Easter 2, 2016: Faithful witnessing

Preached at St. Thomas Episcopal Church, Burnsville, NC.
Lectionary: Acts 5:27-32; Psalm 118:14-29; Revelation 1:4-8; John 20:19-31



En el nombre del Padre, y el Hijo, y el Espiritu Santo. Amen. Please be seated.

I’m Valori. I’m a friend of Beth’s. I’ve been in the diocese for 6.5 years… and I’m really glad to be here today with this branch of our family tree. I thank Beth for inviting me to worship at St. Thomas and preach today. I have some friends here at St. Thomas from Executive Council and the CRM trainings, but I don’t think we’ve ever shared Holy Eucharist, have we. Well, that’s about to change. Isn’t it lovely that I get to be here on the day the Gospel talks about St. Thomas, your patron saint?

I’ll begin talking about one of my favorite saints. As you may have noticed, I’m Latina. I’m half Spanish, and one of my favorite saints is Theresa of Avila, 16th century Spanish mystic. And I’ll begin with her prayer that I think is familiar to most of you:

“Christ has no body now on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which to look out Christ's compassion to the world. Yours are the feet with which he is to go about doing good. Yours are the hands with which he is to bless [people] now.”

St. Theresa’s prayer speaks to us about how we witness our faith. This kind of witness requires that we make ourselves sacrificially available to God; and that we be part of a faith community, because the faith community keeps us grounded and fed and sends us out to serve. Every Sunday we are sent out to serve.

In today’s story about doubting Thomas, who unfortunately is known as doubting Thomas, because he was faithful. In fact tradition tells us he was known to be very faithful , and even impetuous in his fervor.

The story of Thomas is important because through this shows Jesus demonstrated three very important lessons for us about our work as witnesses of the Good News:

1) that God accepts us where we are and leads us to where we need to be;
2) that there are many ways to come to faith and many ways to live faithfully;
3) that God is present in the gathered community.

Thomas was a believer but he couldn’t believe that his rabbi, who was dead, was now alive again and talking with folks. Who could believe that? Would you believe that if someone said it to you today. So, it’s not so much that he doubted but that it didn’t make any sense. How could it be?

Notice that Jesus didn’t get mad at Thomas for doubting. Instead, he came back and he invited Thomas to come into his presence and confront his doubt - to go fully into it – not to deny it or avoid it or be ashamed of it. Come close, Jesus said. Touch me. Be with me.

And no one kicked Thomas out of the disciples club for not believing right. They preserved their friendship with him, they invited him back, they kept him part of the community, and let God do the rest. The story of Thomas shows us that there are many ways to come to faith and many ways of being faithful and it’s that diversity that makes us such strong witnesses.

Whether or not we ever “see” Jesus will depend upon how accessible we make ourselves to God throughout our lives, in our whole journey of faith, and how God wishes to work in us. Some will know about Jesus from their earliest childhood – a deep abiding faith. You can witness it in children.

Others will have resurrection experiences, like Theresa of Avila who saw visions of Christ in his bodily form, or John Wesley whose heart was strangely warmed when he encountered the presence of Jesus in prayer – much like those disciples on the road to Damascus. Others will say they never experience the presence of God. They don’t “see” Jesus. To them, Jesus said, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

In writings discovered after her death, Mother Theresa of Calcutta, of my favorite saints, confessed living most of her life in a dark night – a state of feeling totally absent of the presence of God. She struggled to believe, yet never stopped serving because it’s what her faith demanded of her. And how well did she serve?!? Her service changed the world. It changed the way the world looked at the poor. She touched them. She drew close, just like Thomas did to Jesus.

In our Collect today, we asked God to help us “show forth in our lives what we profess in our faith.” So we must ask ourselves: what do we believe?... and do we truly believe what we profess in our faith? …and if we can’t believe it, do we live it?... at work, at school, at home, …in church?

There used to be a TV show hosted by John Quiñones, called: “What would you do?” The show secretly filmed people witnessing such things as abuse, theft, fraud or cheating. The idea was, would this person intervene and make right the wrong being done, or would they sit there and ignore it?

People did both. What would we do? Hopefully, we’d show forth in our lives what we profess in our faith. Now, I think we all like to think we do the right thing. I don’t know… sometimes I think I would; sometimes I think I’d ignore it.

We have opportunities all the time. For example, what do we say when people ask us about the presidential election, or HB-2 (the bathroom law just passed by the General Assembly)? I’m not going to talk politics, but I am going to ask: Do we witness to our Baptismal Covenant in response?

What about – when we’re out in the world and we’re with someone who says they don’t believe in God. What do they learn about God by being with you… by watching you live your life? That’s a witness.

What is our witness when we are at a gathering of friends and one of them, who is a follower of Christ, spouts off insults and condemnations against someone because of how they look, or their race, or their gender, or their sexuality or sexual identity? How do we respond? What do we do?

Do we witness our faith when someone tells a dumb blonde joke, which perpetuates the degradation of women? Finally, what is our witness when we are afraid, or in doubt? How do witness the Good News when we’re worried about the transitions in our parish, The Episcopal Church, or the global Christian family?

I hope whenever we are challenged to show forth in our lives what we profess in our faith, we remember what Peter said to his listeners in Jerusalem: that we are witnesses of the redeeming work of God in Jesus Christ. We are not the ones who do the redeeming work – God is. Our role is to be faithful - to gather in community, to pray, to listen, to be fed by Word and Sacrament, to act when we’re called to do so… and sometimes, to wait – to wait in faith while God is working things out in ways we can’t see or imagine.

As witnesses, we are not called to coerce or threaten or frighten or cajole anyone into believing or into coming to church. That wasn’t Jesus’ way and it isn’t ours.

We are called upon to be the presence of Christ in the world today – a presence that accepts people where they are. Remember, Jesus breathed his Holy Spirit onto these disciples, and it happens again at Pentecost to the larger church. Breath. Life. Jesus breathes his own spirit into us. This presence that we carry as temples of the Holy Spirit, this presence allows us to accept people where they are, and gently we place them in the presence of God – right here in this sanctuary, right here among this gathered community, and we let God guide them into all truth.

That’s why your priests and rectors keep reminding you to ‘Invite your friends to church.” I promise you, it’s not about the Average Sunday Attendance numbers. It’s about the reconciliation of the world to God. That’s in our catechism. That’s our ministry. Invite people to come into the presence of God on Sundays and whenever you gather as a community of faith.

Do you know why your priests and rectors keep telling you to invite your friends – and not just your friends – everybody you have conversation with who needs to be in the presence of God (which is everybody), because this is the calling of the membership, not the rector. You are the gathered community. Bring them into the presence of God so that we can be one family, one spirit.

We know whenever we worship together, or study the Bible together, whenever we eat and party together, that God is present among us. Jesus promised. God is present, not just being there, but transforming us, growing us and forming us into a body – the body of Christ in the world.

We are Christ’s hands in the world today – hands that reach out to catch someone who is falling,
even when that means sacrificing our own comfort for their sake.

We are Christ’s feet in the world today – feet that will go to those places where hope needs to be spoken and compassion needs to be given. Feet that will walk willingly into the darkness of someone’s nightmare, confident that we are bearers of the light of Christ.

We are the body of Christ in the world today, members of the communion of saints, members of one another.

So let us pray today, right now, that as we gather today to worship God and nourishment by Word and Sacrament, we will recognize and accept the grace God is offering us and allow God to make us one body, one spirit, a living sacrifice in Christ, for the glory of God and the welfare of God’s people. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Lent: Making space for something new

For many of us, on Ash Wednesday, which is the first day of Lent, we gathered in solemn assembly and marked the sign of our salvation - the cross of Christ - on our foreheads with the dust of ashes. By doing so, we also marked these next 5 weeks of Lent as different – sacred time set aside for a purpose.

The word “Lent” means “spring” and it refers to a time when new life is being formed, and the one forming that new life is the same one who forms all life: God. We’re mistaken when we think we need to choose what to DO or STOP DOING for Lent. We don’t DO Lent. We simply choose to let Lent (new life) be formed in us – and we do that by faith.

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus, filled with the Holy Spirit, is led by the Spirit in the wilderness.(4:1) The Greek word translated here as ‘wilderness’ and in other versions of the Bible as ‘desert’ can also be understood to mean ‘a place that is uncultivated.’ So, the Spirit takes Jesus from his baptism to a place that is uncultivated and prepares him for his purpose. Luke tells us that throughout this time of cultivation, Jesus is tempted.

Jesus, in the fullness of his humanity, really is tempted, and in the fullness of his divinity, Jesus could have responded very differently. I think we let ourselves off the hook about our own responses to temptation by supposing that in his divinity, Jesus could simply out-power the devil and stand firm against temptation – something we, who are not divine, can’t do. But if we do that, we’re forgetting the truth of the Incarnation and we’re missing the gift of this gospel story – how to cultivate faithfulness to God in a world of temptations.

Luke tells us that Jesus went from his baptism into a season of cultivation… a season of 40 days. Forty days was a colloquial term for ‘many’ and meant ‘a period of time that was long enough,’ that is, enough time for God to act. He fasted, allowing himself to physically know the emptiness he was entering, trusting in God alone to sustain his life.

That is what Lent is for us. Time we set aside to go willingly into the emptiness and allow God to cultivate us, to prepare us for our purpose. Lent is not a time for us to wallow in the misery of our wretchedness as hopeless sinners. We don’t fast in order to suffer, or as punishment for sin. We fast to allow ourselves to experience emptiness. In the deep, dark center of ourselves, we willingly choose to make space for something new, something nourishing and life-giving that God will supply.

During Lent, we get honest about God. In Psalm 91, we are reminded that God is our refuge and stronghold, the One in whom we put our trust. But if we choose to make God into a big judge who is waiting to smite us for every failing we know we have, then we feel justified in keeping our distance and we have fallen prey to the second temptation Jesus faced: idolatry; making for ourselves an image of God to worship and serve (or not to worship and serve), rather than being in relationship with the one, true God.

During Lent, we also get honest about ourselves. We are all marvelously and wonderfully made by our Creator, who hates us not. But we often forget to live as if that’s true about us and our neighbors. There are times that every one of us will find ourselves lacking the will to be compassionate toward someone else when it involves some amount of sacrifice from us. There are (or will be) times in our lives when our anger erupts quickly, while forgiveness comes slowly, if at all.

We tend toward being so preoccupied with ourselves and our own, that we become blind to the fact that all around us, others of God’s kin are suffering, lacking food, friendship, or hope. Sometimes, our preoccupation with ourselves takes the form of addiction and we can be addicted to many things: being the center of attention, food, alcohol or drugs, or work. Other times, our preoccupation with ourselves takes the opposite form: subtraction - diminishing ourselves as if we don’t matter at all through things like: anorexia and bulimia, abusive relationships, and constant self-censure.

It is in these forms of self-preoccupation that we confront the third temptation Jesus faced: testing God. It sounds something like this: ‘If I work to destroy myself, will I matter enough that God will save me?’ The truth is, we do matter to God. God has already saved us, giving up everything, including his own life, for our salvation. What else do we need? Testing God is a deception. What we’re actually doing is denying God.

So, Lent offers us the opportunity to get honest about God and ourselves, and the hard work of Lent is emptying ourselves of all that already fills us, including the need to be full and satisfied. But emptiness scares us. The nothingness of it feels kind of like death, so we tend to avoid it. That’s why Lent is different. Knowing that by our baptism we have entered into Jesus’ death and resurrection we have no fear of death, not even the little ones like the death of a habit, or the death of an idea we hold about God, ourselves, or our neighbors.

The traditional Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are tested and reliable ways we can use to respond to God’s call to us to return with our whole hearts. Prayer brings us into the presence of God who created us, gave up his life on the cross for us, and calls us to a season of cultivation to prepare us for our purpose. Fasting reminds us of our mortality and our real limitations as humans, and it provides a way for us to experience solidarity with those who truly hunger. When we remember how real and compelling hunger is, we are moved by compassion to do something to relieve it – even if it means making a bit of a sacrifice. And alsmgiving is the way we can do that: giving of ourselves: our money, time or gifts to serve those children of God who suffer from any lack: food, friendship, hope, or faith.

Our Lenten practices aren’t about success or failure. If you are diabetic, on medication, or for some other reason you can’t fast from food –don’t. We can fast from lots of other things: criticizing, complaining, or estrangement.

We don’t score points for praying, fasting or giving alms, and we don’t get demerits for not doing those things because we don’t DO Lent. We choose it. During Lent we choose to make space in our lives for God to cultivate new life in us.

Re-enter the womb of God this Lent

If I could reduce the purpose and practice of Lent into a single idea, I would use this quote from a poem by St. Theresa of Avila:“[God] desired me, so I came close.” 

It’s very sad to me that the most pervasive notion about Lent (my favorite season) is that it is a dark and difficult season, to be approached with avoidance, guilt, and self-loathing; that we have to “tame” our desires by giving something up, then use all the self-control we can muster to keep our Lenten promises. Doesn’t it occur to those people that exerting our self-will is exactly what we are called NOT to do during Lent?

Lent isn’t a time of practicing self control. It’s a time of relinquishing it. During Lent we practice discipline and penitence. It’s a mistake to confuse discipline with self-control and penitence with wallowing. In fact, it’s sin: the sin of hubris – the very thing that got Adam and Eve in trouble in the garden.

Our discipline and repentance are the means by which we re-enter the womb of God where we can rest, be restored, renewed, and prepared. In his book, “Praying Shapes Believing,”  theologian Lee Mitchell reminds us that: “Joy, love, and renewal are as much Lenten themes as are penitence, fasting, and self-denial; and we need to remember that it is within the context of preparation for our participation in the Feast of feasts that [our] Lenten penitence is expressed.” (29). 

Or - as St. Theresa said, “[God] desired me so I came close.”

Temptation is that which leads us into sin – and sin is that which causes us to forget who we are, whose we are, and why we’re here. St. Luke tells us that Jesus, the Incarnate One, the manifest reality of the unity of humanity and divinity, was tempted to separate himself into a dichotomy of body and spirit; to focus on his humanity (he was famished) and forget about his divinity.

Next, though he knew his purpose on earth (the reason he came), Jesus was tempted to walk away from God’s plan for his life and live out a different plan – one in which he, rather than God, would get the glory.

Finally, Jesus was tempted to throw his life away, daring God to prove that he mattered.

Each of these temptations teaches us something about our relationship with God. The first temptation, separation from the spark of the divine that is within us, goes to our very identity. We are body and spirit. In the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus the Christ, humanity and divinity were reconciled. Each of us is, therefore, a living testimony to that harmonious co-existence. To separate ourselves, even in our thoughts, is to undo the gift Christ died to give us.

The second temptation, putting ourselves and our wills ahead of our obedience to the will of God, goes to how, or even whether, we will live into our purpose. If Jesus’ life is any example,

living into our purpose won’t be all blessing and honor, but it will be redemptive – for us and for those whom God puts in our lives. When we’re honest, it seems ridiculous that we think we can devise a plan for happiness and fulfillment by chasing after that perfect life partner, or that perfect job, or that perfect body. Our hubris is, at times, astonishing.

The third temptation, trying to prove we matter by throwing away the very gift God gave us in the first place, goes to our core understanding of ourselves as beloved. It’s true that many people don’t feel very beloved, their earthly experiences have taught them to believe otherwise. But faith assures us that we are truly beloved of God.

The temptations Jesus faced in our gospel story aren’t the only temptations out there. Discovering what our temptations are and repenting of them is our goal during Lent.

Some of us eat to comfort ourselves. For these, repentance means honest self reflection along with substituting prayer or prayerful activity for cookies or chips.

Others among us work too much in order to win approval or to feel like we matter. For these, repentance means committing to a schedule that balances time devoted to work, family, leisure, and real time with God.

Some of us habitually deny ourselves anything good out of self-loathing. For these repentance means fasting from self-criticism or keeping a prayer journal which acknowledges the daily gifts and blessings God is constantly giving.

For all of us, Lent is a good time to commit to regular attendance at Sunday worship or Morning Prayer, remembering that we live out our purpose in community as the body of Christ in the world. Lent is also a good time for all of us to fast from complaining, self-criticism, foods or eating habits that will harm us, combativeness at work, in school, or in church – whatever leads us away from the love of God, self, and other. 

The disciplines we practice are meant to help us enter humbly into the presence of God, where we surrender ourselves to God’s unfathomable love and unfailing care for us. The emptiness in us that continually seeks satisfaction comes from our sense of separation from that love. We know this deep down but often don’t  pay it real attention.

It’s helpful to remember that God desires communion with us. Doing so quiets those voices of temptation that play like a tape-recording in our heads, saying: you’re not worthy, you’re not beautiful, you’re not gifted, you’re not loved. We are. We’re also unfinished… continually growing, maturing in body and in spirit.

Our brokenness is not something to be ashamed of or to avoid. It is as much a gift as any talent we possess because it is the place in us where God dwells most assuredly, most compassionately.

Our brokenness is the cross we bear; the place where salvation is victorious in us; the place where we witness the reconciling power of God still at work in the world.  When others see this growth and maturation in us they are empowered to stop being ashamed of their brokenness, to pick up their cross and walk into redemption.

Draw close to God this Lent. God desires it. We hunger for it. There’s nothing to fear.

The poem that I quoted from St. Theresa of Avila (which is a handout in your bulletin)

concludes like this:

A thousand souls hear [God’s] call every second,

but most every one then looks into their life’s mirror and

says, “I am not worthy to leave this

sadness.

When I first heard his courting song, I too

looked at all I had done in my life

and said,

“How can I gaze into his omnipresent eyes?”

I spoke those words with all my heart,

but then He sang again, a song even sweeter,

and when I tried to shame myself once more from His presence

God showed me His compassion and spoke a divine truth,

“I made you, dear, and all I made is perfect.

Please come close, for I

desire

you.”

Amen.

Farewell from your rector

During my time serving with you at Redeemer a couple of themes have risen up in my prayers, sermons, articles, and conversations. These will probably sound familiar to you, and I offer them as my farewell reflection.

1) We are temples of the Holy Spirit, and so, we have nothing to fear. The truth of this is alternately joyful and terrifying. The power of God’s love, the presence of Jesus’ own spirit dwells in us constantly transforming us and the world in which we live, move, and have our being. Most often it isn’t our circumstances or helplessness we fear but the power of God that lives in us, individually and corporately, ready to transform. As a result we often minimize that power in us, limit it, or outright deny it, choosing instead to rely on our own knowledge, experience, influence, etc. The good news is, since nothing is impossible for God (Lk 1:37), neither is anything impossible for us in whom God dwells. Not by our own efforts, of course, but by our… (see #2)

2) Surrender (or as Deacon Pam says it, “Welcome, welcome, welcome!”). Everything is a gift, even the hard and difficult things we face (Ro 5:3-5), AND redemption is guaranteed – in God’s time and in God’s way. In his meditation this morning, Brother David Vryhof, SSJE tells us we are called to let go, to relinquish our need to control and define, to manipulate and possess. Self-fulfillment comes through laying down our lives in obedience to God’s deepest yearnings for us.”

3) And God’s yearning for us is that we abide in love (Jn15:9) which is eternal life – life in the eternal presence of God. The ‘football passage’ (Jn 3:16), reminds us: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son so that EVERYONE (emphasis mine) who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.” And I always remind people to keep reading through verse 17 which says: “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” God’s judgement of us, God’s promise to us is salvation, which means redemption is guaranteed. God will see to it.

4) In the meantime, we who have received Christ Jesus, must choose to continue to live in him. (Col 2:6) By his own life, Jesus showed us what that would look like: a life full of friendship and betrayal, joy and hardship, miraculous ministry and rejected ministry, truth-telling that leads to conflict, earthly injustice and divine redemption. As it was for him, so will it be for us.

The Good News is that redemption has already been accomplished by our Savior and the outcome of that – reconciliation of the world to God in Christ - is our mission as followers of Jesus: “to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ.” (BCP, 855). Christians are part of a Jesus Movement, as our Presiding Bishop Michael Curry calls it. We are agents of Christ, gifted specifically to carry on Christ’s work of reconciliation of the world. It is our duty as Episcopalians to take our place in the life, worship, and governance of the church which is the means by which our mission is accomplished. (BCP, 855) It is also where we are strengthened to serve by the nourishment we receive in Word and Sacrament.

God bless you all as you live into the fullness of life God has given you and gifted you to do. Steve and I will hold you in continuing prayer as you continue to grow in your love of God and your service to God’s people; all for the glory of God. Please come say good-bye at the service of leave-taking Tuesday evening (1/26) at 6:30. There’ll be food afterwards! Peace out.

Epiphany 2, 2016: Do whatever he tells you

Lectionary: Isaiah 62:1-5; Psalm 36:5-10; 1 Corinthians 12:1-11; John 2:1-11
Preacher: The Rev. Dr. Valori Mulvey Sherer, Rector

En el nombre del Dios: Padre, Hijo, y Espiritu Santo. Amen.

The big picture behind our lectionary readings today can be summed up in this quote from Mother Theresa: “When you know how much God loves you, you can’t help but radiate that love.”

The reading from Isaiah has the prophet clarifying in no uncertain terms the identity and destiny of the people of God. Isaiah tells them how much God loves them and that God’s purpose for them will be fulfilled in and through them despite how impossible that seems in the difficult circumstances they are experiencing.

Let’s listen again to what we read from Isaiah: ‘For you, God’s people, I will not keep silent… I will not rest, until you are freed from all blame and your freedom shines like the dawn, until your deliverance from the consequences of sin shines like a burning torch. Everyone will witness this and the powerful in the world will see your glory. You will have a new identity which God will give you and you will be a crown of beauty, a royal diadem in the hand of your God. No one will call you forsaken or desolate. Instead, you will be known as the one who delights God and you will be fruitful because you will be one with your God and your oneness will be a source of joy for God who rejoices over you.’

People of Redeemer, you are - right now -being given a new name, a new identity, and in this newness of life, you are a crown of beauty, a royal diadem: beautiful, valuable, and precious in the hand of God. Your new identity is grounded in a union with God, an intimate and permanent union, one that is a source of joy for God and, by your very presence in the world, a witness to the world of God’s love for the world.

And not just you, but all of Christianity – all people who are followers of Jesus. Look out at the world. It’s the same out there as it is in here.

Today’s psalm sings of the ridiculous abundance of the love of God which reaches to the heavens, is strong, just, given for the whole world, priceless and a place of refuge in times of trouble.

Then the letter to the church in Corinth describes how the love of God is expressed through the people of God as gifts given to individuals who live in a community of faith – and why. As Paul says, “To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” The light of God’s love radiates into the world through the church. Each community of faith is given gifts as the Spirit chooses so that they are able to address the needs of the world in their time and place.

It has always been this way, as the gospel shows us. An ordinary event, a village wedding, becomes the setting for an extraordinary event: the first manifest sign of the marriage (that is, the intimate union) of the human and the divine in Jesus and what that means for the world.

Mary, Jesus’ mother, notices that the wine has run out - something that would cause shame for the host family - and mentions it to her son. Jesus’ response, as rude as it sounds, was typical response for an adult male of that time, firmly supported in the cultural position of gender superiority: Madam, he says to his mother, what business is that of mine? “My hour has not yet come.”

That phrase, ‘My hour has not yet come’ can also be translated as: ‘The time of my blossoming, the moment of my reckoning, has not yet come.’ Well, that’s what Jesus thought anyway, but apparently, his mother knew better.

Undaunted by Jesus’ public display of arrogance and immaturity, Mary told the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” And Jesus obeyed her, telling the servants to fill the water jars with water, then bring a taste of it to the master of the feast - kind of the Mr. Carson (from Downton Abbey) of the party. The water had been turned into wine – a wine of the finest quality and it was in ridiculous abundance – which is how the love of God looks when manifest in the world.

In addition, Jesus’ mother, who was just a woman, initiated this sign by saying something extremely profound: “They have no wine.” Was she talking about the drink made from fermented grapes? Yes. But this is Scripture, so there’s always something more, something spiritual. For example, our perspective allows us to connect this with the events of the Last Supper where our Savior shares a cup of wine which he declares to be his blood of the new covenant, shed for all for the redemption of sins.

“They have no wine” Mary said, and she was right – and Jesus knew it, so he humbled himself for the first time, and gave them their first taste of the New Covenant – and it was delicious and abundant.

To most who were there, and most who read this story in Scripture, it looked a simple event. There’s a wedding, the wine runs out, Jesus is there, so he makes more miraculously. But, as the evangelist tells us, only his disciples came to believe in him as a result of this sign. Most everyone at the wedding had no clue what was going on – except for the servants who also obeyed Mary when she told them: “Do whatever he tells you to do.”

The deeper meaning is this: Jesus, who is the firstborn of the marriage, that is, the real and intimate union of human and divine, is letting the fullness of himself be revealed for the first time in this moment. This story of the wedding in Cana marks the beginning of the disciples believing in him as the Messiah of God.

It’s also the beginning of the revelation of how Jesus does things and how that will transform the world. Stepping down from his lofty position of male privilege, Jesus humbly – and publicly - obeys his mother. This violates his cultural gender norms.

Serving the best wine last at the wedding also violates cultural norms, but that’s how Jesus rolls – over and over again – and this the first indication of a pattern Jesus will repeat and calls us to repeat in his name. It’s the one the prophet Isaiah describes like this: “Every valley shall be lifted up and every mountain… made low,[and] the uneven ground shall become level...” (Isa 40:4)

Another important part of this story is the direction the action takes. When Jesus was at the wedding he wasn’t aware of the moment presenting itself. When his Mother pointed it out, he thinking was about himself (My hour has not yet come), until Mary re-directed him to think of others (They have no wine). This is the direction we who are followers of Jesus must notice and practice.

Mary’s voice is echoed in the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., whose holiday we celebrate tomorrow, who once said, “Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, ‘What are you doing for others?’” (Source)

This is the direction, it seems to me, our primates in the Anglican Communion lost sight of this week as they gathered in Canterbury, England. Their concern seemed to focus almost exclusively on themselves: how the issue of sexuality affected them, their culture, and how they live out their Anglican identity. The Archbishop of Nigeria commented that this issue is a one of cultural difference – African culture being very different from American and European culture. (Episcopalcafe.com) I guess he forgot how many times Jesus violated cultural norms for the purpose of manifesting the kingdom of God in the world.

I didn’t hear a single primate, besides our own (God bless ++Michael Curry), speak of how all of this was affecting believers, especially LGBTQ believers around the world. I also didn’t hear much from our primates about how we Anglicans, in all our diversity, could serve the needs of the poor, the hungry, the oppressed, or the needy around the world. So many in the world have no wine. What are we doing for them?

One of the most precious memories I will take from my time at Redeemer is our ministry partnership with Living Waters and the witness that gave to our local community. We didn’t agree on practically anything theological, but we served the hungry together, and that was enough to form lasting bonds of friendship as we manifested the kingdom of God here in Shelby.

There are people right now in our neighborhoods who have no wine. There are people right here in this church who have no wine. This is why, in the words of Isaiah, I can’t keep silent; why I haven’t been able to rest - and why you can’t either.

People of God at Redeemer, you have been chosen by God and gifted for a purpose. You are a crown of beauty, a royal diadem in the hand of God. Let no one – not even you - call you desolate.

Your hour, your time of blossoming, has come. I pray you allow the fullness of God’s love which dwells in you to radiate with the brightness of Christ’s glory as you serve in his holy name. I pray you recognize, nurture, and use your many gifts because so many out there have no wine and you have it in abundance.

I know some of you don’t feel ready, but have faith, which as Dr. King says, “is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.” You are followers of Jesus who has promised to be with you always, leading you, loving you. Do whatever he tells you. Amen.

Exciting true hope

The big news the last couple of weeks has been the record-breaking $1.5 billion Powerball lottery. The news frenzy has been astonishing and disturbing. There were reports of poor and working-class people spending huge amounts of money buying lottery tickets despite the staggering odds against winning: 1 in 292.2 million. (Source) The fact that buying multiple tickets, even thousands of them, does not increase the odds of winning, seemed irrelevant to many purchasers.

Even people who typically don’t play the lottery bought tickets for this prize. Lottery officials said they were selling 131,000 tickets a minute. (Source)

Why?

People continue to buy into the hope that winning a lottery will solve their financial problems, or at least ease their financial burdens. Yet, according to a study “by researchers at Vanderbilt University, the University of Kentucky and the University of Pittsburgh, the more money you win in the lottery, the more likely you are to end up bankrupt.” (Source) About 70% of all lottery winners end up going broke and filing for bankruptcy. (Source)

Contrary to popular opinion, most lottery winners also aren’t happier for having won. In 1980, for example, Evelyn Adams won the lottery twice, but quickly gambled away her $5.4 million winnings and lives in a trailer park, financially ruined. Billy Bob Harrell Jr. was a Pentecostal preacher and stock boy who won $31 million. “The stress of winning so overwhelmed him that he divorced his wife and committed suicide.” Jack Whitaker won $315-million, but said, “he wished he never won after his teenage granddaughter became addicted to drugs and then was found dead in 2007 of… an overdose. His daughter died in 2009 in another apparent overdose.” (Source)

The yearning the lottery taps into is deep and ubiquitous among humans, but it can’t be satisfied by money, not even lots of it. The hope is for happiness – but that’s where we go astray.

The goal of life isn’t happiness. Jesus didn’t come among us and send us out to spread happiness. Jesus sends us out to the share the Good News that the whole world is being reconciled to God in Christ right now; that God created, loves, sustains, and sanctifies us – all of us – not because of what we do but because of who we are: God’s own people, the apple of God’s eye. (Source, p 132)

Happiness happens, but so does pain, misfortune, blessing, and injustice. That’s called fullness of life. Followers of Jesus know that we must take up our cross and follow him – to the cross, the grave, and finally into resurrection life. Happiness isn’t our goal; faithfulness is.

The Good News we bear assures us that God is with us, within us, working out a perfect plan of salvation for us and for the whole world. It assures us that whatever we face in life and the world, we face as a community. No one is alone. We are one body, one spirit in Christ – the church – and we are assured that “nothing can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord.” (Source, p 862)

If the Church could motivate people to participate in the work of reconciliation the way the lottery motivates people to buy tickets, think of how the world might be blessed and transformed! It staggers the mind and excites hope – true hope – which is: “to live with confidence in newness and fullness of life, and to await the coming of Christ in glory, and the completion of God’s purpose for the world.” (Source,p 861)

Xmas 1: Power to choose to be children of God

Lectionary: Isaiah 61:10-62:3; Psalm 147:13-21; Galations 3:23-25, 4:4-7; John 1:1-18



I want to begin, I do this often on this first Sunday after Christmas because I think it's really important, so I want to begin with the Prologue of John, that most beautiful and familiar scripture, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." And I want to read to you a translation that I've done directly from the Greek, taking out some of the cultural influence of what Scripture has given us. It's very true to the word, it's not different from what we read in Scripture. It will sound a little bit different and go a little bit deeper because I will add in (as you know, in Greek there are some layers of meaning) and so where the Scripture chooses a single word, I'll give a couple of words that are implied by the Greek word. So let's begin with that and then we'll talk about what this text is offering us.

1. In the state of beginning, a living voice (a conception/an idea) happens and this living voice (this conception/idea) is God; and the living voice (the conception/idea) exists for the advantage of God.

2. This existence was in the beginning with regard to God.

3. Everyone individually and all things begin to be, to appear in history through him (on account of him) and without him not even one thing begins to be or comes to pass.

4. Every living soul who begins to be and all that comes to pass through him is the absolute fullness of life and apart from him no one comes into being and not one thing comes to pass.

5. Indeed, this truth shed light on the darkness (which was due to an ignorance of divine things) and the darkness (the ignorance) did not take possession of it.

6. A human being came into existence, sent from God, and his name was John.

7. He came to tell people about future events; and he knows these things because he was taught by divine revelation about the true and sincere light in order that those who hear him, each one individually and everyone might be persuaded and have confidence in him.

8. He is not the true and sincere light, but he exists in order to be a witness, to implore people on account of the true and sincere light.

9. The true and sincere light is present among human beings and is the one who makes saving knowledge clear to each one, to everyone, and to all things. This true and sincere one comes into the harmonious order (the world) for human beings.

10. He is present in the harmonious order (the world), and through him the world happens but the world did not learn to know or understand him.

11. He arrives to what belongs to him, and what belongs to him does not accept him (it does not allow him to join them to himself).

12. But as for those who take hold of his hand, who are persuaded about his true name and everything that that means, to them he gives the gift of the power of choice, the freedom to begin being children of God;

13. children who are born of his blood (his seat of life) not from human action; children who are brought over to his way of life by God.

14. And the living voice (conception/idea) began to be flesh and lived for a while among us; and we look upon him with attention, we contemplate and admire him.

15. John affirms what he knows by divine revelation and cries out in a loud voice saying, “This one exists, and his existence affirms what was said: that the one who comes after me is the one who is first in time and place and rank.”

16. Because he himself is the fulfillment, we (each one individually, and everyone as a whole) take a hold of goodwill and carry loving-kindness because of his grace…

We didn't read the part about Moses, so I'll skip that.

Do you hear how deep and beautiful and broad this word is, the word, the Prologue from John? Our tradition gives us the strength to be firmly rooted in the truth this gives us, because when we are firmly rooted in this truth, we can fly with freedom wherever God asks us to go.

But when we don't, when we choose to live in ignorance of divine things, we create for ourselves a prison. We create for God a prison. We build walls. And sometimes we call those walls ‘law’ or ‘custom’ or ‘tradition’… “we've always done it that way," and it becomes a dark prison which shuts out the true light.

But we have been given, according to this Word, we have been given power, and the power that we have is to choose to begin being children of God, not people who earn our goodness by our actions, but who are by our very being, good children of God. The movement from slave, someone who does something out of fear, or because you have to in order to eat or to survive, into being people who do it because that's who we are, children of the loving God.

As most of you know, I grew up Roman Catholic, and in most Roman Catholic churches, and even some Anglican churches, though not this one, there's something called a "tabernacle." Have you ever seen one? They're usually very ornate, big boxes, gold or brass or carved wood, beautiful boxes, and it's where the reserved sacrament is stored in a church. The consecrated bread and wine are put into a tabernacle. And there's a reason that we have those in some of our churches, because this very Gospel tells us that the Word of God, the true light, ‘tabernacled’ among us. In the ancient Hebrew, it meant "he pitched his tent." He lived among us. The tabernacle in the church is the manifest form of that theological concept. There is a place where Jesus lived, the consecrated body and blood of Christ is kept in this tabernacle. That's step one. I think the problem is the Church forgot to take step two.

The tabernacle doesn't live in the church anymore than God lived in the ark of the covenant in ancient times. God chose to dwell among us, to tabernacle among us. We, in our very embodied, human, imperfect state, we are the tabernacle of Christ. Isaiah talks about this in his reading saying we are clothed in the garments of salvation, and then describes something very beautiful and jeweled, which is where the idea for making a box for the consecrated elements came from in the Church. It's beautiful. It's decked with garlands and jewels. We are the crown of beauty in the hand of God (the hand in Biblical terms means "the action.") We are the crowned beauty of the action of God, and the Christ, God himself, chose to live, to tabernacle in us. We have become the beautiful garland, bejeweled tabernacle of God here on the earth.

And there's a reason that we have done that. The light of Christ, which was brought to us by Christ himself when he came and lived for a while among us, brought us, God gave us that spirit and brought us the very thing Christ came to bring: life. The light was the life of all people. The blood of Christ is the life that fills us, life given to us from God.

My stomach is still in knots over a conversation I had with Deacon Pam right before we came out. Deacon Pam is my interpreter of all things Baptist and Protestant. And I had never heard of the concept of the blood, washed in the Blood of the Lamb, the way Pam presented it to me today. And it hurts my stomach to think about that. So let me tell you she said, see how many of you have heard this: you're washed in the Blood of the Lamb, the Christ is crucified, and his blood as his body dies drips out from him and covers you, and then God can't see anything but the blood of Christ because you are so bad that you can't be seen, but the blood of Christ will cover you and therefore you're going to be okay, isn't that right? Oh my God!

Because the truth is the light came into the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it! And the light was the life of all people! We're not bad. We don't need to be ashamed. We need to be who God made us to be, and that includes making mistakes, having sins, things that separate us from God and each other, because in every single one of those circumstances, redemption can happen. And redemption is what Christ came to bring, isn't it?

So, when we come into conflict with someone, or when we screw something up royally ourselves, we're being given the opportunity to be the tabernacle of Christ, the place where the life blood of all people exists and redeems the moment, redeems the event. We don't do it; we carry that in us and God does it through us. We don't need to be washed in anything but the waters of baptism. See, as a Catholic that's how I heard that. We were washed in the blood of Christ meant we were washed in the waters of baptism. Christ's blood is the life of the world. So, I don't know, maybe my stomach will stop hurting later. But here's the reason. Who tells people "you're horrible" when God said in Genesis, "everything is good, no indeed, it is very good."

So the Church made those beautiful boxes, took the first step of showing in a real way how Christ dwells among us, but forgot to take the second step: there's no church that exists outside of us, we are the church. There's no box to go to get God. We carry that in us. And if we are willing to use the power we've been given to choose to be children of God and stop thinking of ourselves as slaves, to choose to stop being ignorant of divine things, then what can stop the transformation of the world through us?

The Light of Christ, the life that is the light of the world is in us. We have no darkness to fear because the light was not overcome by the darkness. Nothing can go wrong. "It's all good" as they say.

It is a great power we have - to choose. We can choose to be slaves, or we can choose to be children. And I know that not all earthly parents are perfect, in fact no earthly parents are perfect, but I know I have witnessed, I have experienced, and some of us, even if we didn't see it ourselves, have seen it in others, how powerful the love of a parent for their child is. Most non-messed up parents would lay down their lives for their child, no matter what that child has done. We would give up everything, including our very breath, to see our child live and thrive. And if we can do that as imperfectly as we can do that, imagine what it means to say "I am a child of God."

Then there's that last step we have to take, that third step. If I am a child of God, so are you. So is everyone else out there, no matter what they've done. Christ laid down his life for us and calls us to do the same for one another. And we have nothing to fear, because the Light of Christ, the light that is the life of all people, is in us.

We are the tabernacles of Christ in the world today, and God has plans for us. And that plan is to participate in the redemption of the whole world to God in Christ. How amazing is that! So, I pray we choose not ignorance of divine things anymore, not fear, but life, the life of Christ. Amen.