Lectionary: Isaiah 61:10-62:3; Psalm 147:13-21; Galatians 3:23-25;4:4-7; John 1:1-18
Preacher: The Very Rev Dr Valori Mulvey Sherer, Rector
Happy Christmastide! Still working on the dead computer issue, so the sermon is available in audio only again this week. Enjoy!
I'm cruising on the river of life, happy to trust the flow, enjoying the ride as I live into life as the Rector at Emmanuel Episcopal Church in Webster Groves, MO. I am also co-founder of the Partnership for Renewal, a church vitality nonprofit. You are most welcome to visit my blog anytime and enjoy the ride with me. Peace.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Friday, December 27, 2013
Christmas Eve, 2013: Midnight Mass sermon: A Christmas challenge
We enjoyed a glorious celebration of the Feast of the Incarnation. Mother Valori's sermon is available in audio only (due to a dead computer).
Lectionary: Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14(15-20)
Lectionary: Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14(15-20)
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Advent 4A, 2013: Freedom as big as God
Lectionary: Isaiah 7:10-16; Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18; Romans 1:1-7; Matthew 1:18-25
Preacher: The Very Rev Dr Valori Mulvey Sherer, Rector
En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.
Last week Deacon Pam talked about the Advent task we all have: recognizing and letting go our expectations of God so that we can be in relationship with the God who is, not the God we create. This is no small task, but it is a very important one. Remember the second Commandment given to Moses: “You shall not make for yourself any idol.”
When we create a concept of God for ourselves, we create an idol. Our Scripture stories tell us of idols that are carved statues or statues cast in gold. Our idols today aren’t like that. Instead, we create idols of ourexpectations about God, which are as false as those statues, even though we know that God acts in ways we can’t ask or imagine.
In last week’s lectionary, we heard Mary say “for nothing will be impossible with God,” yet we continue to limit the work of God in ourselves and in the world according to our small expectations of God. We aren’t alone though. This has been the way of human relationship with God all along. Our forebears were expecting another King David who would deliver them from Roman occupation. They wanted freedom, but the freedom they wanted was so small – it was political freedom from a particular enemy, in a particular time in history.
What they got, what we all got, was God’s freedom and it was much bigger than anyone expected. We got Jesus. Jesus is our Savior. It’s a basic truth for us. In fact, it’s THE basic truth. We confess that in Jesus we have been reconciled to God, made one again with the Creator of all that was and is and is to come. That was Jesus’ purpose and he fulfilled it, once for all. There is nothing more we need to or can do to accomplish what has already been accomplished by him.
Over and over again Jesus told us that he was delivering us from the power of sin and death. He told us that that in him we have eternal life in God (because remember he is God). And as St. Paul said a little later in his letter to the Romans, nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ.
Nothing. Not sin. Not death. Not even our idols or our small expectations.
Neither can we be tricked or distracted away from the salvation Jesus gave us. That is the freedom Jesus brought – sin has no power anymore. We are free and this freedom is big as only God can do.
Look at what Matthew tells us in his gospel account of Jesus’ birth – the only gospel, by the way, that tells the story from Joseph’s point of view. Notice that the story of the coming of the Messiah is so big
it took multiple writers offering multiple perspectives to provide the story even some of the dimensionality it contains.
So, Matthew’s gospel begins with Jesus’ genealogy showing Joseph to be a descendant of David. By claiming Jesus as his son and naming him, Joseph establishes Jesus as a descendant of David.
This was important because Matthew wrote his gospel to a Jewish audience who knew the words of the prophets and the law of Moses. They knew the many stories of God’s deliverance as told in Scripture. They knew that the promised Messiah of God would come from the line of David and would deliver God’s people from their sins.
But they couldn’t have known how very big this deliverance would be. No one could have.
Matthew’s gospel tells us that Mary is pregnant, and Joseph knew it couldn’t be his child. The Jewish audience hearing this story knew that Mary’s betrothal to Joseph was legally binding. Betrothals could only be ended by divorce, that’s why they called Joseph her husband.
Under the circumstances, Joseph would have certainly been justified in seeking a divorce, but he also could have publicly accused Mary of adultery which would have guaranteed her being stoned to death
according to their law.
We can imagine how hurt and disappointed Joseph must have been. Many of us know how it feels to be cheated on by our partner in love. Matthew describes Joseph as a righteous man a man in right relationship with God, and Joseph moves pretty quickly from hurt and disappointment to mercy, deciding to divorce Mary without public accusation so that she will not be stoned to death. She will, however, be destined to a life of shame because the reason for Joseph’s divorce would be evident before long.
I wonder how many people today, given the power Joseph had over the one who hurt him, would make a similar choice? People today seem to go straight from “you hurt me” to “I’ll hurt you worse” or even “I’ll kill you.”
Matthew tells us that just as Joseph had decided to divorce Mary, God spoke to him in a dream, through an angel. Let’s stop here for a moment and ponder this. God spoke to Joseph in a dream. Really? Do we believe that?
Does the God you worship speak to you in your dreams? Are you sure? The reason I ask is, it’s one of the most common ways God has related to God’s people – according to our Scripture. Oh yeah, we believe that.
Unfortunately, the allowable concept of God we have created for our time doesn’t speak to us in dreams much anymore – really at all. We have shrunk God down according to our concepts about God and limited what we will allow God to do in our time, and that’s a sin: the sin of idolatry.
So God spoke to Joseph in his dream and what God said was pretty impossible: ‘Oh yeah, she has a baby, but don’t worry – it’s mine.’
And yet, Joseph knew it was God, and did as God asked him to do, even though, it meant living in dishonor. Gossip was the same then as it is now. Mary was pregnant, they weren’t married yet, and the baby wasn’t Joseph’s. Joseph had been humiliated. Even taking Mary and her baby in wouldn’t quell the gossip, which probably lingered around them their whole lives.
But Joseph knew his purpose. He had heard it from the voice of God in his dream, and he fulfilled it. Joseph obeyed the word of God. He even named his son as God directed. The name, Jesus, "is the Greek form of the Hebrew Yehosua, which means 'YHWH is salvation' " (Bergant, 27). As the gospel writer says, this is his name because "…it is he who shall save his people from their sins." (21b). (Source: lectionary.org)
The expectation, however, was that the Messiah would save them from their oppressors. As one commentator says, “Jesus would [have been] far more popular if [he’d focused] on relieving the people of Roman oppression instead of delivering them from their sins.” (Source: lectionary.org)
I think the same is true today. Our view of God and God’s deliverance remains very small. Thankfully, God is not limited by our consistently small expectations. God is God. Thanks be to God.
Like Joseph, we’re called to hear the voice of God which still speaks our purpose to us: individually and as a community. Like Joseph, we’re called to obey and follow where God leads the way no matter how impossible it seems. Doing so is likely to lead us to bear dishonor, as it did Joseph, but it’s a small sacrifice to make, considering how big is the work we’re called to share: reconciling the whole world to God.
I close with an adaptation of our wreath-lighting prayer. Let us pray:
Loving God, set us free from the constriction of our small imaginations and light our lives with your imagination. Show us the creative power our hope in you unleashes on the world. Teach us trust that you are God and you will lead us only by love and in love, and magnify your love within us. Fill us with your joy which is so big it cannot be contained, but must be shared. Prepare our hearts, on this last Sunday in Advent, to be transformed by you at Christmas that we may always walk shining the light of Christ in our world. Amen.
Preacher: The Very Rev Dr Valori Mulvey Sherer, Rector
En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.
Last week Deacon Pam talked about the Advent task we all have: recognizing and letting go our expectations of God so that we can be in relationship with the God who is, not the God we create. This is no small task, but it is a very important one. Remember the second Commandment given to Moses: “You shall not make for yourself any idol.”
When we create a concept of God for ourselves, we create an idol. Our Scripture stories tell us of idols that are carved statues or statues cast in gold. Our idols today aren’t like that. Instead, we create idols of ourexpectations about God, which are as false as those statues, even though we know that God acts in ways we can’t ask or imagine.
In last week’s lectionary, we heard Mary say “for nothing will be impossible with God,” yet we continue to limit the work of God in ourselves and in the world according to our small expectations of God. We aren’t alone though. This has been the way of human relationship with God all along. Our forebears were expecting another King David who would deliver them from Roman occupation. They wanted freedom, but the freedom they wanted was so small – it was political freedom from a particular enemy, in a particular time in history.
What they got, what we all got, was God’s freedom and it was much bigger than anyone expected. We got Jesus. Jesus is our Savior. It’s a basic truth for us. In fact, it’s THE basic truth. We confess that in Jesus we have been reconciled to God, made one again with the Creator of all that was and is and is to come. That was Jesus’ purpose and he fulfilled it, once for all. There is nothing more we need to or can do to accomplish what has already been accomplished by him.
Over and over again Jesus told us that he was delivering us from the power of sin and death. He told us that that in him we have eternal life in God (because remember he is God). And as St. Paul said a little later in his letter to the Romans, nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ.
Nothing. Not sin. Not death. Not even our idols or our small expectations.
Neither can we be tricked or distracted away from the salvation Jesus gave us. That is the freedom Jesus brought – sin has no power anymore. We are free and this freedom is big as only God can do.
Look at what Matthew tells us in his gospel account of Jesus’ birth – the only gospel, by the way, that tells the story from Joseph’s point of view. Notice that the story of the coming of the Messiah is so big
it took multiple writers offering multiple perspectives to provide the story even some of the dimensionality it contains.
So, Matthew’s gospel begins with Jesus’ genealogy showing Joseph to be a descendant of David. By claiming Jesus as his son and naming him, Joseph establishes Jesus as a descendant of David.
This was important because Matthew wrote his gospel to a Jewish audience who knew the words of the prophets and the law of Moses. They knew the many stories of God’s deliverance as told in Scripture. They knew that the promised Messiah of God would come from the line of David and would deliver God’s people from their sins.
But they couldn’t have known how very big this deliverance would be. No one could have.
Matthew’s gospel tells us that Mary is pregnant, and Joseph knew it couldn’t be his child. The Jewish audience hearing this story knew that Mary’s betrothal to Joseph was legally binding. Betrothals could only be ended by divorce, that’s why they called Joseph her husband.
Under the circumstances, Joseph would have certainly been justified in seeking a divorce, but he also could have publicly accused Mary of adultery which would have guaranteed her being stoned to death
according to their law.
We can imagine how hurt and disappointed Joseph must have been. Many of us know how it feels to be cheated on by our partner in love. Matthew describes Joseph as a righteous man a man in right relationship with God, and Joseph moves pretty quickly from hurt and disappointment to mercy, deciding to divorce Mary without public accusation so that she will not be stoned to death. She will, however, be destined to a life of shame because the reason for Joseph’s divorce would be evident before long.
I wonder how many people today, given the power Joseph had over the one who hurt him, would make a similar choice? People today seem to go straight from “you hurt me” to “I’ll hurt you worse” or even “I’ll kill you.”
Matthew tells us that just as Joseph had decided to divorce Mary, God spoke to him in a dream, through an angel. Let’s stop here for a moment and ponder this. God spoke to Joseph in a dream. Really? Do we believe that?
Does the God you worship speak to you in your dreams? Are you sure? The reason I ask is, it’s one of the most common ways God has related to God’s people – according to our Scripture. Oh yeah, we believe that.
Unfortunately, the allowable concept of God we have created for our time doesn’t speak to us in dreams much anymore – really at all. We have shrunk God down according to our concepts about God and limited what we will allow God to do in our time, and that’s a sin: the sin of idolatry.
So God spoke to Joseph in his dream and what God said was pretty impossible: ‘Oh yeah, she has a baby, but don’t worry – it’s mine.’
And yet, Joseph knew it was God, and did as God asked him to do, even though, it meant living in dishonor. Gossip was the same then as it is now. Mary was pregnant, they weren’t married yet, and the baby wasn’t Joseph’s. Joseph had been humiliated. Even taking Mary and her baby in wouldn’t quell the gossip, which probably lingered around them their whole lives.
But Joseph knew his purpose. He had heard it from the voice of God in his dream, and he fulfilled it. Joseph obeyed the word of God. He even named his son as God directed. The name, Jesus, "is the Greek form of the Hebrew Yehosua, which means 'YHWH is salvation' " (Bergant, 27). As the gospel writer says, this is his name because "…it is he who shall save his people from their sins." (21b). (Source: lectionary.org)
The expectation, however, was that the Messiah would save them from their oppressors. As one commentator says, “Jesus would [have been] far more popular if [he’d focused] on relieving the people of Roman oppression instead of delivering them from their sins.” (Source: lectionary.org)
I think the same is true today. Our view of God and God’s deliverance remains very small. Thankfully, God is not limited by our consistently small expectations. God is God. Thanks be to God.
Like Joseph, we’re called to hear the voice of God which still speaks our purpose to us: individually and as a community. Like Joseph, we’re called to obey and follow where God leads the way no matter how impossible it seems. Doing so is likely to lead us to bear dishonor, as it did Joseph, but it’s a small sacrifice to make, considering how big is the work we’re called to share: reconciling the whole world to God.
I close with an adaptation of our wreath-lighting prayer. Let us pray:
Loving God, set us free from the constriction of our small imaginations and light our lives with your imagination. Show us the creative power our hope in you unleashes on the world. Teach us trust that you are God and you will lead us only by love and in love, and magnify your love within us. Fill us with your joy which is so big it cannot be contained, but must be shared. Prepare our hearts, on this last Sunday in Advent, to be transformed by you at Christmas that we may always walk shining the light of Christ in our world. Amen.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Advent 1A, 2013: Advent "nesting"
Lectionary: Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 122; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:36-44
Preacher: The Very Rev Dr Valori Mulvey Sherer, Rector
En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.
Happy New Year! Happy new liturgical year! Advent 1 marks the beginning of our liturgical year and we begin it by lighting the candle of hope. As we move into a new year, we are called to prepare ourselves for the new thing about to happen in us individually, in our community, and through us in the world.
The Scripture for today speaks about hope and renewal of life, not the end of life as many would have us think. When Jesus used apocalyptic language, as he does in today’s gospel teaching, he’s talks about a new beginning, one he himself is inaugurating.
The topic of “the rapture” has come up in conversations I’ve been having on several occasions lately, so I thought it might be time again to share again a teaching I did a few years ago on this. How many of you have heard of “the rapture”? How many of you have read the “Left Behind” book series?
Let me be clear: the rapture is a modern doctrine that is NOT supported by the Episcopal Church or the Anglican Communion. “The rapture” was a teaching developed by John Nelson Darby, a 19th century Irish lawyer who became an Anglican preacher, then later left the Anglican Church and started the Plymouth Brethren. Darby is considered the founder of dispensationalism, a theological approach described as “an oddity of Church history.”
This approach breaks Scripture down into compartments or "dispensations” which mark the end of the world. The dispensations begin, according to Darby, with the rapture, the moment when all faithful believers are taken up to heaven all at once. This will happen so suddenly, they say, that in a flash, all that will be left of those ‘raptured up into heaven’ will be a pile of their empty clothes and the shocked looks on the faces of those who watched it happen.
The unfaithful and believers who lived in sin will be left behind to suffer unspeakable horrors during the next dispensation called the Great Tribulation, a period of seven years of chaos and persecution. Next will be the dispensation called the battle of Armageddon. After that will be a thousand years (a millennium) of justice and righteousness on the earth.
Following that will be the final dispensation: the Last Judgment, when Christ will send anyone who has ever lived either to eternal bliss or eternal damnation. This, they believe, will bring to a close the story of human history begun in the Garden of Eden.
Another famous dispensationalist was Cyrus I. Scofied, who authored the Scofied Bible, often called the handbook of fundamentalism. Published in 1909, Scofield’s Bible is still much used in the church today. It was published just before the start of WWI, and became popular as people tried to cope with what looked to them like the end of the world happening all around them.
Although dispsensational millenialists tend to focus primarily on the Book of Revelation, today’s Gospel from Matthew is a favorite because they believe that in it Jesus prophesies the rapture.
So let’s look at our Gospel reading and see. It begins with a statement by Jesus that no one, not even Jesus himself, knows when the Day of the Lord will be. So the Scofield Bible and all of those supermarket tabloids that predict a date for the end of the world, find no support in Scripture.
Next Jesus references the story of Noah found in the book of Genesis saying, “For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. People were doing what they usually did, eating, drinking, and marrying, until the day Noah entered the ark, …they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too [Jesus said]will be the coming of the Son of Man.” According to Jesus, those left behind after the flood were Noah and his family who were chosen by God to stay on the earth in order to restore it.
So Scripture shows us that the doctrine of the rapture has it backwards. Those left behind in the story of Noah, did not suffer tribulation. They lived in a covenanted relationship with God – a covenant promising mercy, forgiveness, and salvation.
Let’s continue…
Jesus continues, “Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left.” Please note that the word ‘behind’ in is not in the Scriptural text – not in the Greek and not in the English.
The text also does not indicate which one might be a bad outcome and which one might be the good. But Jesus does by connecting his teaching to the story of Noah. Remember that in that story, the ones taken off the face of the earth were not the faithful ones. The faithful ones were “left behind” (as it were).
The understanding that is faithful to our Scripture, then, is that being left on the earth is not a punishment, but a call from God to be partners in the work of the reconciliation and the restoration of the world.
Let’s continue… Jesus says, “Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.” It isn’t clear whether Jesus is referring to our personal end (our death) or our collective end (the end of the world as we know it).
And that’s the point - it doesn’t matter. Our focus as Christians isn’t on the end of the world but on its renewal. Like the family of Noah, we have been chosen BY God to be partners WITH God in the reconciliation of the world TO God.
There are people suffering right in front of us, here in Shelby, and around the world. People who are hungry for food, for friendship, and for hope. During his earthly ministry, Jesus healed the sick, connected with the excluded, and loved even those who executed him. In our ministries, we are to do likewise, and this is something which takes preparation – intentional, prayerful, continuing preparation – which is what we are called to do during the season of Advent.
All around us the cultural Christmas is already in high gear. Holiday decorations are up, Christmas carols are playing everywhere we turn, and the much-needed shot in our economic arm is being carefully measured by those people who measure those things.
For Christians, however, it isn’t Christmas. It’s Advent.
In the same way that we can’t skip the third trimester of a pregnancy and jump straight to the baby, we can’t skip over Advent and run right to Christmas. But why would we? What fun is that?
During the last trimester of a pregnancy, the mother begins to “nest,” that is, to make ready the home that will welcome the new life within her. The parents decorate the nursery and gather up all the necessary accoutrements: the layette, diapers, car seats, strollers, itty bitty socks.
Then… they wait. And anyone who has waited for a baby that came past its due date, knows how very hard it is to wait, especially for the mother.
During Advent, we are all pregnant with new life. So we wait. And we nest, preparing ourselves for the new life we know is growing within us, the new life that is coming. The new life who is, for us, the light of the world because we have been chosen BY God to be partners WITH God in the reconciliation of the world TO God.
Amen.
Preacher: The Very Rev Dr Valori Mulvey Sherer, Rector
En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.
Happy New Year! Happy new liturgical year! Advent 1 marks the beginning of our liturgical year and we begin it by lighting the candle of hope. As we move into a new year, we are called to prepare ourselves for the new thing about to happen in us individually, in our community, and through us in the world.
The Scripture for today speaks about hope and renewal of life, not the end of life as many would have us think. When Jesus used apocalyptic language, as he does in today’s gospel teaching, he’s talks about a new beginning, one he himself is inaugurating.
The topic of “the rapture” has come up in conversations I’ve been having on several occasions lately, so I thought it might be time again to share again a teaching I did a few years ago on this. How many of you have heard of “the rapture”? How many of you have read the “Left Behind” book series?
Let me be clear: the rapture is a modern doctrine that is NOT supported by the Episcopal Church or the Anglican Communion. “The rapture” was a teaching developed by John Nelson Darby, a 19th century Irish lawyer who became an Anglican preacher, then later left the Anglican Church and started the Plymouth Brethren. Darby is considered the founder of dispensationalism, a theological approach described as “an oddity of Church history.”
This approach breaks Scripture down into compartments or "dispensations” which mark the end of the world. The dispensations begin, according to Darby, with the rapture, the moment when all faithful believers are taken up to heaven all at once. This will happen so suddenly, they say, that in a flash, all that will be left of those ‘raptured up into heaven’ will be a pile of their empty clothes and the shocked looks on the faces of those who watched it happen.
The unfaithful and believers who lived in sin will be left behind to suffer unspeakable horrors during the next dispensation called the Great Tribulation, a period of seven years of chaos and persecution. Next will be the dispensation called the battle of Armageddon. After that will be a thousand years (a millennium) of justice and righteousness on the earth.
Following that will be the final dispensation: the Last Judgment, when Christ will send anyone who has ever lived either to eternal bliss or eternal damnation. This, they believe, will bring to a close the story of human history begun in the Garden of Eden.
Another famous dispensationalist was Cyrus I. Scofied, who authored the Scofied Bible, often called the handbook of fundamentalism. Published in 1909, Scofield’s Bible is still much used in the church today. It was published just before the start of WWI, and became popular as people tried to cope with what looked to them like the end of the world happening all around them.
Although dispsensational millenialists tend to focus primarily on the Book of Revelation, today’s Gospel from Matthew is a favorite because they believe that in it Jesus prophesies the rapture.
So let’s look at our Gospel reading and see. It begins with a statement by Jesus that no one, not even Jesus himself, knows when the Day of the Lord will be. So the Scofield Bible and all of those supermarket tabloids that predict a date for the end of the world, find no support in Scripture.
Next Jesus references the story of Noah found in the book of Genesis saying, “For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. People were doing what they usually did, eating, drinking, and marrying, until the day Noah entered the ark, …they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too [Jesus said]will be the coming of the Son of Man.” According to Jesus, those left behind after the flood were Noah and his family who were chosen by God to stay on the earth in order to restore it.
So Scripture shows us that the doctrine of the rapture has it backwards. Those left behind in the story of Noah, did not suffer tribulation. They lived in a covenanted relationship with God – a covenant promising mercy, forgiveness, and salvation.
Let’s continue…
Jesus continues, “Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left.” Please note that the word ‘behind’ in is not in the Scriptural text – not in the Greek and not in the English.
The text also does not indicate which one might be a bad outcome and which one might be the good. But Jesus does by connecting his teaching to the story of Noah. Remember that in that story, the ones taken off the face of the earth were not the faithful ones. The faithful ones were “left behind” (as it were).
The understanding that is faithful to our Scripture, then, is that being left on the earth is not a punishment, but a call from God to be partners in the work of the reconciliation and the restoration of the world.
Let’s continue… Jesus says, “Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.” It isn’t clear whether Jesus is referring to our personal end (our death) or our collective end (the end of the world as we know it).
And that’s the point - it doesn’t matter. Our focus as Christians isn’t on the end of the world but on its renewal. Like the family of Noah, we have been chosen BY God to be partners WITH God in the reconciliation of the world TO God.
There are people suffering right in front of us, here in Shelby, and around the world. People who are hungry for food, for friendship, and for hope. During his earthly ministry, Jesus healed the sick, connected with the excluded, and loved even those who executed him. In our ministries, we are to do likewise, and this is something which takes preparation – intentional, prayerful, continuing preparation – which is what we are called to do during the season of Advent.
All around us the cultural Christmas is already in high gear. Holiday decorations are up, Christmas carols are playing everywhere we turn, and the much-needed shot in our economic arm is being carefully measured by those people who measure those things.
For Christians, however, it isn’t Christmas. It’s Advent.
In the same way that we can’t skip the third trimester of a pregnancy and jump straight to the baby, we can’t skip over Advent and run right to Christmas. But why would we? What fun is that?
During the last trimester of a pregnancy, the mother begins to “nest,” that is, to make ready the home that will welcome the new life within her. The parents decorate the nursery and gather up all the necessary accoutrements: the layette, diapers, car seats, strollers, itty bitty socks.
Then… they wait. And anyone who has waited for a baby that came past its due date, knows how very hard it is to wait, especially for the mother.
During Advent, we are all pregnant with new life. So we wait. And we nest, preparing ourselves for the new life we know is growing within us, the new life that is coming. The new life who is, for us, the light of the world because we have been chosen BY God to be partners WITH God in the reconciliation of the world TO God.
Amen.
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Christ the King, 2013: Re-member
Lectionary: Jeremiah 23:1-6; Canticle 16; Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43
Preacher: The Very Rev Dr Valori Mulvey Sherer, Rector
En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.
On this our patronal feast day, the day we remember in whose name we live and move and have our being, we have the blessing of these words from our Psalm: “Be still then, and know that I am God.” (Ps 46:11)
As many of you know, Deacon Pam and I went on a silent retreat at Valle Crucis last week. We stayed in thewonderful hermitages they have there. Pam stayed in the Julian of Norwich hermitage, and I stayed in the G. Porter Taylor hermitage. We didn’t choose them – they chose us.
In each hermitage are books and information about the one for whom the hermitage is named. During my time in that hermitage I held +Porter in particular prayer. I read his books (I hadn’t even known he’d written two books) and found myself blessed by his grace and wisdom in a whole new way.
That’s the thing about prayer: it connects us to one another in an intimate and powerful way. Most of us count on the truth of that, especially when someone we love is sick or uncertain or going off in a risky direction.
When we pray, we remember. We remember the name or situation of a prayer request we were given. We remember that the redeeming love of God is always ready to touch and heal whatever prayer request we offer up.
When we pray we are also remembered. We, who are dismembered from the wholeness of God by our sin, are re-membered by our prayer.
This is what we see in today’s gospel reading. Knowing he is with the Redeemer, the criminal asks not for rescue as does the other criminal, nor for forgiveness, acknowledging that he is guilty of his offense. Instead, he asks to be remembered: made one again with that from which he had been separated. He seeks wholeness, holiness.
In prayer, we come to know God intimately, honestly, overwhelmingly. The Psalmist’s prayer confirms that, reflecting the voice of God which speaks gently to us saying: “Be still…” Listen and you will learn how to hear me.
Being still is a prayer discipline that takes practice. Our attention wanders, our legs get itchy to move.
In the quiet we first hear the voice of our own conscience which has been speaking to us all along but has been drowned out by our busy-ness. Then we learn to hear the voice of God.
There is no distraction in the quietness which is what makes it uncomfortable, and we end up sounding much like the first criminal who asked Jesus for rescue. But that’s OK. Jesus didn’t rebuke that criminal, did he? Jesus also didn’t rebuke the soldiers who crucified him, the religious leaders who mocked him, or the people who stood by watching…. just watching…
In his most miserable moment as a human, Jesus prayed, and his prayer takes our breath away: “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”
I’ll bet if anyone had asked, the soldiers they would have said they knew exactly what they were doing. I’ll bet the religious leadership were sure they knew what they were doing by getting Jesus crucified. The people… I don’t know. Maybe some thought they knew.
We often read this text forgetting that it is the distance of time that enables us to know they were killing the Messiah of God. Our sense of spiritual superiority wanes, however, when we remember that we, as a modern culture, are doing the same thing whenever we do it to the least in the kingdom of God.
If we were to open our eyes and truly see, we would be flooded with images of this: people around the globe and right here in Shelby, living in poverty and disease, with few options and even less respect. They cry out for rescue and are often rebuked, or mocked, or ignored by people who seem to know what they’re doing. But Jesus’ prayer: “Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing…” is eternally re-membering us and setting us free from the tyranny of our own hubris.
We don’t know what we are doing. We can’t – because our vision is so small, so finite. Thankfully, we aren’t asked to know. We’re asked to follow.
If we follow our Redeemer, we will remember. We will remember that although “the human family remains divided and enslaved by sin,” the redeeming love of God in Christ has set us on a course that will bring all of us together again under God’s gracious rule. (Collect of the Day)
Following means gathering together for Holy Eucharist and remembering. Following means going wherever God leads us and trusting, whatever the circumstance, that God’s grace is all we need.
Redeemer knows the truth of this first-hand. We have been to the cross and the tomb together. And today, we live the truth of the resurrection together, and it is glorious.
On this, our patronal feast day, and in the name of Jesus Christ our Redeemer, I bless this family of God who serve and follow so faithfully. With eyes wide open, you have seen the suffering of our sisters and brothers around us and in response, you opened your hearts, your hands, and your buildings to serve them while others rebuke, mock, and ignore them. I am honored to serve with you as your rector.
I close with an adaptation of the blessing St. Paul offered the Colossians: “May you [continue to] be made strong with all the strength that comes from God’s glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to God, our Redeemer, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light.”
Amen.
Preacher: The Very Rev Dr Valori Mulvey Sherer, Rector
En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.
On this our patronal feast day, the day we remember in whose name we live and move and have our being, we have the blessing of these words from our Psalm: “Be still then, and know that I am God.” (Ps 46:11)
As many of you know, Deacon Pam and I went on a silent retreat at Valle Crucis last week. We stayed in thewonderful hermitages they have there. Pam stayed in the Julian of Norwich hermitage, and I stayed in the G. Porter Taylor hermitage. We didn’t choose them – they chose us.
In each hermitage are books and information about the one for whom the hermitage is named. During my time in that hermitage I held +Porter in particular prayer. I read his books (I hadn’t even known he’d written two books) and found myself blessed by his grace and wisdom in a whole new way.
That’s the thing about prayer: it connects us to one another in an intimate and powerful way. Most of us count on the truth of that, especially when someone we love is sick or uncertain or going off in a risky direction.
When we pray, we remember. We remember the name or situation of a prayer request we were given. We remember that the redeeming love of God is always ready to touch and heal whatever prayer request we offer up.
When we pray we are also remembered. We, who are dismembered from the wholeness of God by our sin, are re-membered by our prayer.
This is what we see in today’s gospel reading. Knowing he is with the Redeemer, the criminal asks not for rescue as does the other criminal, nor for forgiveness, acknowledging that he is guilty of his offense. Instead, he asks to be remembered: made one again with that from which he had been separated. He seeks wholeness, holiness.
In prayer, we come to know God intimately, honestly, overwhelmingly. The Psalmist’s prayer confirms that, reflecting the voice of God which speaks gently to us saying: “Be still…” Listen and you will learn how to hear me.
Being still is a prayer discipline that takes practice. Our attention wanders, our legs get itchy to move.
In the quiet we first hear the voice of our own conscience which has been speaking to us all along but has been drowned out by our busy-ness. Then we learn to hear the voice of God.
There is no distraction in the quietness which is what makes it uncomfortable, and we end up sounding much like the first criminal who asked Jesus for rescue. But that’s OK. Jesus didn’t rebuke that criminal, did he? Jesus also didn’t rebuke the soldiers who crucified him, the religious leaders who mocked him, or the people who stood by watching…. just watching…
In his most miserable moment as a human, Jesus prayed, and his prayer takes our breath away: “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”
I’ll bet if anyone had asked, the soldiers they would have said they knew exactly what they were doing. I’ll bet the religious leadership were sure they knew what they were doing by getting Jesus crucified. The people… I don’t know. Maybe some thought they knew.
We often read this text forgetting that it is the distance of time that enables us to know they were killing the Messiah of God. Our sense of spiritual superiority wanes, however, when we remember that we, as a modern culture, are doing the same thing whenever we do it to the least in the kingdom of God.
If we were to open our eyes and truly see, we would be flooded with images of this: people around the globe and right here in Shelby, living in poverty and disease, with few options and even less respect. They cry out for rescue and are often rebuked, or mocked, or ignored by people who seem to know what they’re doing. But Jesus’ prayer: “Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing…” is eternally re-membering us and setting us free from the tyranny of our own hubris.
We don’t know what we are doing. We can’t – because our vision is so small, so finite. Thankfully, we aren’t asked to know. We’re asked to follow.
If we follow our Redeemer, we will remember. We will remember that although “the human family remains divided and enslaved by sin,” the redeeming love of God in Christ has set us on a course that will bring all of us together again under God’s gracious rule. (Collect of the Day)
Following means gathering together for Holy Eucharist and remembering. Following means going wherever God leads us and trusting, whatever the circumstance, that God’s grace is all we need.
Redeemer knows the truth of this first-hand. We have been to the cross and the tomb together. And today, we live the truth of the resurrection together, and it is glorious.
On this, our patronal feast day, and in the name of Jesus Christ our Redeemer, I bless this family of God who serve and follow so faithfully. With eyes wide open, you have seen the suffering of our sisters and brothers around us and in response, you opened your hearts, your hands, and your buildings to serve them while others rebuke, mock, and ignore them. I am honored to serve with you as your rector.
I close with an adaptation of the blessing St. Paul offered the Colossians: “May you [continue to] be made strong with all the strength that comes from God’s glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to God, our Redeemer, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light.”
Amen.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Pentecost 26, 2013: "God is in charge"
Lectionary: Malachi 4:1-2a; Psalm 98; 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13; Luke 21:5-19
Preacher: The Very Rev Dr Valori Mulvey Sherer, Rector
En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.
I’m not much of a TV watcher, but I have noticed a couple of things I find to be interesting commentary on current culture. The rise of reality TV – shows about people with no discernible gifts or talents simply living their lives on camera; and a current fascination with a zombie apocalypse.
One genre which combines these two and enjoys great popularity is the doomsday prepper show. Preppers are people who devise elaborate plans for surviving a variety of apocalyptic events: total economic collapse, natural disaster, war, or politically motivated doomsdays of various descriptions. These TV shows follow preppers who build bunkers in caves or castles in the woods, who create hidden storehouses of food, water, and weapons for their own use after the disaster.
One online prepper published this cautionary advice: “Don’t talk about your preparedness supplies unless it is with trusted people with whom you will be working if a worst case scenario comes to pass. Otherwise, if the world around you collapses and your neighbors and acquaintances know you have supplies, guess who they will turn to for help.” (Source: http://www.infowars.com/doomsday-prepper-sentenced-to-21-months-in-prison-for-stockpiling-destructive-devices-after-insider-rats-him-out/)
God forbid! This isn’t a new phenomenon, though.
Archeological evidence shows that there were some people in the ancient city of Pompeii, which was destroyed in 79 A.D., who tried to hoard food and survival supplies in an attempt to survive the impending volcanic eruption, but their preparations were no match for the power of Mount Vesuvius.
Pandemics, disasters, and apocalyptic events of varying kinds have been present in every era of human history. And I think I read somewhere important that someone important once said, “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.” Oh yeah – that was Jesus in the gospel of Luke (9:24).
Our goal as Christians is not to escape the world, but to stay in it and bring relief to the suffering, food to the hungry, shelter to the homeless, and comfort to the frightened, lonely, orphaned, or those left behind during times of trial.
Has there ever been a time in history when there were no plagues or famines, natural disasters or wars? No. Neither, it seems, has there been a time in history when people weren’t trying to figure out how to survive an apocalypse.
In today’s readings, both Jesus and Paul address this. Jesus says, when you see these dreadful events, “Do not be terrified... the end will not follow immediately.” And Paul urges the church in Thessalonica, who had been waiting for the second coming that never happened, not to be idle – not to sit back and just wait for the end to come. Do your work, Paul says, “do not weary in doing what is right.”
The end, you see, isn’t our concern. The only thing we have is now.
Is there peace on earth? Has starvation ended? Has poverty ended? Does everyone recognize the face of God in themselves and in others and treat everyone as such?
No. Then our work as partners in the reconciliation of the world to God isn’t finished yet.
In his address to our convention, Bishop Porter Taylor said his wife Jo suggested this to be the entirety of his sermon: “I love being your bishop. You’re doing a great job. God is in charge.” He didn’t heed her advice - it wasn’t the entirety of his sermon, but it was the backbone of it, and it was my take-away wisdom from him which I share with you.
At convention, we spent a good deal of time discussing the time of transition the church is currently experiencing. Our speaker, Bp. Sean Rowe of NW PA, also discussed this, and gratefully, focused us on our interdependence, a reminder that we, as Christians, take a radically different approach from the doomsday preppers.
The Episcopal Church as a whole is currently working to discern if our institutional structure is serving our purpose as church in the world today and if not, how we might change it so that it will. The Mission & Structure committee of our diocese, on which Deacon Pam and I serve, is doing the same thing for us locally.
This is also a hot topic among authors and bloggers. Some are calling the present time "The End" of the church as we know it. That could be true… but it wouldn’t be the first time. It would only be this time.
The Jews in the first century saw their temple destroyed and church as they knew it ended – but the Jewish faith continued (h/t to Rev. Rob Field for this comment). The disciples saw their long-awaited Redeemer executed, and what seemed to them like the end was in fact, only the beginning. It was the divine plan in action, the redeeming love of God at work in the world.
God is in charge and our faith continues.
When Jesus handed the “keys of the kingdom” to Peter, he said, “... you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. (Mt, 16:18) Not long after that Peter was executed, the church was being persecuted, and yet, and our faith continues.
So what are we worried about?
What if what we are witnessing, what we are living as the church today, is the redeeming love of God at work in the world about us? It may feel like an end, but isn’t it possible, given our history and our tradition, that it’s actually a beginning?
Faith is a risky business. To have faith is to surrender to our loving God - who is in charge.
To be faithful is to let go of our desired outcomes, to be undistracted by our feared outcomes, and instead choose to be awake and aware and alive in The Now; to walk on in faith in every circumstance, especially the dreadful ones because we walk by faith and not by sight.
As you often hear me say, everything is gift. Everything, no matter how dreadful it seems in the moment, is in the embrace of the divine plan which is, our faith assures us, a plan of salvation.
God’s love can and will redeem.
If we believe that, if we truly believe that, then we can’t abandon the world Jesus died to save, and we can’t worry only about ourselves and our survival. We must be fully engaged in the world as it is right now, faithfully caring for it, loving it and all who are in it – just as Jesus did.
The end of the world is not a thing to dread. It is for us, the culmination of the divine plan of salvation –
the reconciliation of the whole world to God in Christ.
God is in charge. We can walk on in faith. Amen.
Preacher: The Very Rev Dr Valori Mulvey Sherer, Rector
En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.
I’m not much of a TV watcher, but I have noticed a couple of things I find to be interesting commentary on current culture. The rise of reality TV – shows about people with no discernible gifts or talents simply living their lives on camera; and a current fascination with a zombie apocalypse.
One genre which combines these two and enjoys great popularity is the doomsday prepper show. Preppers are people who devise elaborate plans for surviving a variety of apocalyptic events: total economic collapse, natural disaster, war, or politically motivated doomsdays of various descriptions. These TV shows follow preppers who build bunkers in caves or castles in the woods, who create hidden storehouses of food, water, and weapons for their own use after the disaster.
One online prepper published this cautionary advice: “Don’t talk about your preparedness supplies unless it is with trusted people with whom you will be working if a worst case scenario comes to pass. Otherwise, if the world around you collapses and your neighbors and acquaintances know you have supplies, guess who they will turn to for help.” (Source: http://www.infowars.com/doomsday-prepper-sentenced-to-21-months-in-prison-for-stockpiling-destructive-devices-after-insider-rats-him-out/)
God forbid! This isn’t a new phenomenon, though.
Archeological evidence shows that there were some people in the ancient city of Pompeii, which was destroyed in 79 A.D., who tried to hoard food and survival supplies in an attempt to survive the impending volcanic eruption, but their preparations were no match for the power of Mount Vesuvius.
Pandemics, disasters, and apocalyptic events of varying kinds have been present in every era of human history. And I think I read somewhere important that someone important once said, “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.” Oh yeah – that was Jesus in the gospel of Luke (9:24).
Our goal as Christians is not to escape the world, but to stay in it and bring relief to the suffering, food to the hungry, shelter to the homeless, and comfort to the frightened, lonely, orphaned, or those left behind during times of trial.
Has there ever been a time in history when there were no plagues or famines, natural disasters or wars? No. Neither, it seems, has there been a time in history when people weren’t trying to figure out how to survive an apocalypse.
In today’s readings, both Jesus and Paul address this. Jesus says, when you see these dreadful events, “Do not be terrified... the end will not follow immediately.” And Paul urges the church in Thessalonica, who had been waiting for the second coming that never happened, not to be idle – not to sit back and just wait for the end to come. Do your work, Paul says, “do not weary in doing what is right.”
The end, you see, isn’t our concern. The only thing we have is now.
Is there peace on earth? Has starvation ended? Has poverty ended? Does everyone recognize the face of God in themselves and in others and treat everyone as such?
No. Then our work as partners in the reconciliation of the world to God isn’t finished yet.
In his address to our convention, Bishop Porter Taylor said his wife Jo suggested this to be the entirety of his sermon: “I love being your bishop. You’re doing a great job. God is in charge.” He didn’t heed her advice - it wasn’t the entirety of his sermon, but it was the backbone of it, and it was my take-away wisdom from him which I share with you.
At convention, we spent a good deal of time discussing the time of transition the church is currently experiencing. Our speaker, Bp. Sean Rowe of NW PA, also discussed this, and gratefully, focused us on our interdependence, a reminder that we, as Christians, take a radically different approach from the doomsday preppers.
The Episcopal Church as a whole is currently working to discern if our institutional structure is serving our purpose as church in the world today and if not, how we might change it so that it will. The Mission & Structure committee of our diocese, on which Deacon Pam and I serve, is doing the same thing for us locally.
This is also a hot topic among authors and bloggers. Some are calling the present time "The End" of the church as we know it. That could be true… but it wouldn’t be the first time. It would only be this time.
The Jews in the first century saw their temple destroyed and church as they knew it ended – but the Jewish faith continued (h/t to Rev. Rob Field for this comment). The disciples saw their long-awaited Redeemer executed, and what seemed to them like the end was in fact, only the beginning. It was the divine plan in action, the redeeming love of God at work in the world.
God is in charge and our faith continues.
When Jesus handed the “keys of the kingdom” to Peter, he said, “... you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. (Mt, 16:18) Not long after that Peter was executed, the church was being persecuted, and yet, and our faith continues.
So what are we worried about?
What if what we are witnessing, what we are living as the church today, is the redeeming love of God at work in the world about us? It may feel like an end, but isn’t it possible, given our history and our tradition, that it’s actually a beginning?
Faith is a risky business. To have faith is to surrender to our loving God - who is in charge.
To be faithful is to let go of our desired outcomes, to be undistracted by our feared outcomes, and instead choose to be awake and aware and alive in The Now; to walk on in faith in every circumstance, especially the dreadful ones because we walk by faith and not by sight.
As you often hear me say, everything is gift. Everything, no matter how dreadful it seems in the moment, is in the embrace of the divine plan which is, our faith assures us, a plan of salvation.
God’s love can and will redeem.
If we believe that, if we truly believe that, then we can’t abandon the world Jesus died to save, and we can’t worry only about ourselves and our survival. We must be fully engaged in the world as it is right now, faithfully caring for it, loving it and all who are in it – just as Jesus did.
The end of the world is not a thing to dread. It is for us, the culmination of the divine plan of salvation –
the reconciliation of the whole world to God in Christ.
God is in charge. We can walk on in faith. Amen.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
All Saints & Baptism, 2013: Eternally reconciled
Lectionary: Daniel 7:1-3,15-18; Psalm 149; Ephesians 1:11-23; Luke 6:20-31
Preacher: The Very Rev Dr Valori Mulvey Sherer
En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.
I love the feast of All Saints because it reminds us that our experience of reality in this world is only part of a larger picture. The larger picture, for Episcopalians, includes heaven and earth and all that is in them: the vast expanse of interstellar space, galaxies, suns, the planets in their courses, and this fragile earth, our islandhome… along with angels and archangels, and all the company of heaven (BCP, 370-371) who sing their praises with us each time we gather for Holy Eucharist.
Included also are those in the communion of saints, like the ones we remembered in our solemn procession. In that larger picture, the will of God is the only reality, and that will is most simply and most accurately described as love – and all things, all people live united in and by that love.
In our earthly lives, however, we witness and experience a reality that teaches us that the world can’t be trusted to be safe for us, that few if any people can be trusted not to hurt us, and that God can’t really be trusted to care for us (so we have to take care of ourselves). The Good News of salvation in Jesus Christ ends up too often reduced to a set of beliefs or practices that function more like ecclesiastical fire insurance (you know, staying out of hell) rather than as an invitation to live our lives transformed by the truth of our reconciliation to God in Christ and sharing that truth until it becomes that the reality of the world around us.
When we are baptized, we are baptized first into the death of Christ, and everything we think we know about God, the world, even ourselves dies there. We are also baptized into new life in Jesus Christ and we emerge from the baptismal waters (or our renewal of our Baptismal vows) already living a new reality – one that is in unity with God, with one another, and with all creation.
I read a book recently called, “Proof of Heaven.” It was written by neurosurgeon Eben Alexander, M.D., who contracted E.coli and had a near death experience (NDE). Dr. Alexander had been a C&E Episcopalian, and admits he wasn’t particularly spiritual prior to his NDE. He also wasn’t really sure he believed in God. But after his NDE, everything he understood about everything was changed. He was transformed by the Love he encountered in a place he calls heaven while his earthly body lay in a coma in a hospital bed.
Dr. Alexander describes his experience of heaven like this: “Seeing and hearing were not separate in this place… I could hear the visual beauty of the silvery bodies of those scintillating beings above, and I could see the surging, joyful perfection of what they sang. It seemed that you could not look at or listen to anything in this world without becoming part of it – without joining with it in some mysterious way (45) … Everything was distinct, yet everything was also a part of everything else… “ (46)
Dr. Alexander goes on to describe other worlds, higher worlds that “aren’t totally apart from us, because all worlds are part of the same overarching divine Reality. This overarching Divine reality, as Dr. Alexander called it, is what the world witnessed for the first time at Jesus' baptism when the heavens opened and the voice of God declared Jesus the beloved Son. It's also what we continue to witness today at this and every Baptism, in fact, at every Eucharist we celebrate.
Our earthly experience that we are separated from God is replaced by the reality of our eternal reconciliation to God in Christ, and that transforms how we live in the world. In his sermon from the gospel of Luke, Jesus says: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.”
To love in this way means putting the world’s priorities and warnings aside and making room for the love of God to redeem, in fact, being agents of that redeeming love. In the face of an earthly reality that teaches us that the world can’t be trusted to be safe for us, that few if any people can be trusted not to hurt us, and that God can’t be trusted to care for us, living this way will inevitably cause some people to hate, exclude, revile, and defame us – as they did Jesus. When that happens, Jesus says, “Rejoice,…and leap for joy, for …your reward is great in heaven.”
Episcopalians don’t see this reward as something we collect when our earthly lives are over. We understand it to be an eternal reward, one that is part of our lives now forevermore, one that enables us to look beyond the circumstance of the moment and see the working out of the will of God on earth as it is in heaven.
Our Catechism reminds us that when we profess our belief in God, the Creator, it means we believe, despite the apparent earthly reality, that “the universe is good… the work of a… loving God who creates, sustains, and directs it. It means [we believe] that the world belongs to its creator; and that we are called to enjoy it and to care for it in accordance with God's purposes. It means [we believe] that all people are worthy of respect and honor, because all are created in the image of God…” (BCP, 846)
Living this larger, this heavenly reality, in the face of a very different earthly reality isn't something we can do on our own – it's something we must do as members of the church – the mystical body of Christ on earth in communion with the saints in heaven. Today, we have the great joy of baptizing Anna Marion Howell into this body.
If Anna and her sponsor will join me at the Baptismal font, it’s time to invite the heavens to open up as we all declare Anna a beloved daughter in the body of Christ.
Amen.
Preacher: The Very Rev Dr Valori Mulvey Sherer
En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.
I love the feast of All Saints because it reminds us that our experience of reality in this world is only part of a larger picture. The larger picture, for Episcopalians, includes heaven and earth and all that is in them: the vast expanse of interstellar space, galaxies, suns, the planets in their courses, and this fragile earth, our islandhome… along with angels and archangels, and all the company of heaven (BCP, 370-371) who sing their praises with us each time we gather for Holy Eucharist.
Included also are those in the communion of saints, like the ones we remembered in our solemn procession. In that larger picture, the will of God is the only reality, and that will is most simply and most accurately described as love – and all things, all people live united in and by that love.
In our earthly lives, however, we witness and experience a reality that teaches us that the world can’t be trusted to be safe for us, that few if any people can be trusted not to hurt us, and that God can’t really be trusted to care for us (so we have to take care of ourselves). The Good News of salvation in Jesus Christ ends up too often reduced to a set of beliefs or practices that function more like ecclesiastical fire insurance (you know, staying out of hell) rather than as an invitation to live our lives transformed by the truth of our reconciliation to God in Christ and sharing that truth until it becomes that the reality of the world around us.
When we are baptized, we are baptized first into the death of Christ, and everything we think we know about God, the world, even ourselves dies there. We are also baptized into new life in Jesus Christ and we emerge from the baptismal waters (or our renewal of our Baptismal vows) already living a new reality – one that is in unity with God, with one another, and with all creation.
I read a book recently called, “Proof of Heaven.” It was written by neurosurgeon Eben Alexander, M.D., who contracted E.coli and had a near death experience (NDE). Dr. Alexander had been a C&E Episcopalian, and admits he wasn’t particularly spiritual prior to his NDE. He also wasn’t really sure he believed in God. But after his NDE, everything he understood about everything was changed. He was transformed by the Love he encountered in a place he calls heaven while his earthly body lay in a coma in a hospital bed.
Dr. Alexander describes his experience of heaven like this: “Seeing and hearing were not separate in this place… I could hear the visual beauty of the silvery bodies of those scintillating beings above, and I could see the surging, joyful perfection of what they sang. It seemed that you could not look at or listen to anything in this world without becoming part of it – without joining with it in some mysterious way (45) … Everything was distinct, yet everything was also a part of everything else… “ (46)
Dr. Alexander goes on to describe other worlds, higher worlds that “aren’t totally apart from us, because all worlds are part of the same overarching divine Reality. This overarching Divine reality, as Dr. Alexander called it, is what the world witnessed for the first time at Jesus' baptism when the heavens opened and the voice of God declared Jesus the beloved Son. It's also what we continue to witness today at this and every Baptism, in fact, at every Eucharist we celebrate.
Our earthly experience that we are separated from God is replaced by the reality of our eternal reconciliation to God in Christ, and that transforms how we live in the world. In his sermon from the gospel of Luke, Jesus says: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.”
To love in this way means putting the world’s priorities and warnings aside and making room for the love of God to redeem, in fact, being agents of that redeeming love. In the face of an earthly reality that teaches us that the world can’t be trusted to be safe for us, that few if any people can be trusted not to hurt us, and that God can’t be trusted to care for us, living this way will inevitably cause some people to hate, exclude, revile, and defame us – as they did Jesus. When that happens, Jesus says, “Rejoice,…and leap for joy, for …your reward is great in heaven.”
Episcopalians don’t see this reward as something we collect when our earthly lives are over. We understand it to be an eternal reward, one that is part of our lives now forevermore, one that enables us to look beyond the circumstance of the moment and see the working out of the will of God on earth as it is in heaven.
Our Catechism reminds us that when we profess our belief in God, the Creator, it means we believe, despite the apparent earthly reality, that “the universe is good… the work of a… loving God who creates, sustains, and directs it. It means [we believe] that the world belongs to its creator; and that we are called to enjoy it and to care for it in accordance with God's purposes. It means [we believe] that all people are worthy of respect and honor, because all are created in the image of God…” (BCP, 846)
Living this larger, this heavenly reality, in the face of a very different earthly reality isn't something we can do on our own – it's something we must do as members of the church – the mystical body of Christ on earth in communion with the saints in heaven. Today, we have the great joy of baptizing Anna Marion Howell into this body.
If Anna and her sponsor will join me at the Baptismal font, it’s time to invite the heavens to open up as we all declare Anna a beloved daughter in the body of Christ.
Amen.
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