3 Lent, 2025-C: Eternally shared relationship

Lectionary: Exodus 3:1-15, Psalm 63:1-8; 1 Corinthians 10:1-13; Luke 13:1-9

En el nombre del Dios: creador, redentor, y santificador. 

In the name of God: Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. Amen.

Duncan Gray, III, retired bishop of the Diocese of Mississippi, once said: "Change is doing something differently. Transformation is becoming something more… Transformation takes place (he says) when we offer ourselves, our souls, our bodies – our dreams, our visions, our plans – to Almighty God. And as we make our offering we say, not, ‘here are our plans, bless them;’ but, rather, ‘here are our lives, use them.’”

What a beautiful way to approach Lent - offering God our lives. Since we were created by God to be in perfect communion with God and with all God created, to live in a harmony that resonates throughout eternity, when we are not experiencing this harmony, we know we need to repent, individually and collectively. 

Relationships require vulnerability, a willingness to open ourselves to another. Being open we can be hurt. We can also be transformed. We might do well to remember that in our relationship with God, there is mutual vulnerability. God opens Themself to us too, establishing a mutually vulnerable harmony of being, an eternally shared relationship.

Love is like that. When we love, we suffer when the ones we love suffer. When we love, we risk losing that love to death, and a piece of ourselves with it when that happens. God shares the same with us in this relationship of divine-human communion.

In the story from Exodus God demonstrates that we do not suffer alone. Moses is assured that God notices our suffering, and promises presence and redemption.

This is in direct contrast to the way leaders of the world, like Pilate, behave. Pilate was ruthless and despicable. He did horrible, shocking things, like mixing the blood of murdered Galileans with the blood of their temple sacrifice. That would be akin to someone murdering a person at our altar and mixing their blood with our sacramental wine.

In this gospel story, Jesus issues a warning to repent. This is not a threat, it’s counsel. Jesus reminds us over and over that there is only one source of life, and one path of life for us during our time on earth - the path of relationship with God: loving God with all our hearts, minds, souls, and strength, and our neighbors as ourselves. If we take any other path, we will not have life.

The poetry of Psalm 63 beautifully depicts the human experience of our harmoniously vulnerable relationship with God: “you are my God; eagerly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my flesh faints for you…” Likewise, God is steadfastly desirous in Their relationship with us.

In our humanness, we tend to either underestimate the powerful love of God for us and for all God has created, or we underestimate what God’s love can do in and through us. Either way, we sin.

Theologian Paul Tillich describes sin as a three-fold separation: from God, from each other, and from ourselves. I would add to Tillich’s description: separation from Creation. These separations distort all of our relationships. It is only by God’s grace and our willingness to repent, to return to God, that our relationships are restored and made right again.

As you often hear me say, sin isn’t what we do, it’s what’s behind what we do. The behaviors we see, what most people point to when they talk about sin, are simply the visible outcomes of our disrupted, distorted relationships.

So, when we repent, as we are called to do during the season of Lent, we intentionally notice these visible outcomes because they point us to the source of what has become distorted within us. Once we notice it, we can choose to address it; inviting God to redeem us, to transform us by Their love.

Jesus speaks plainly to us in the gospel on the issue of repentance, retelling a popular near-Eastern story from his time, the parable of the fig tree. In this parable, the owner of the vineyard sees a fig tree that hasn’t been producing fruit, judges it as useless, and orders it cut down.

We often hear this as a story of punishment - the poor fig tree couldn’t produce so it was condemned - but that isn’t what this parable is about. In this story, the gardener responds by asking for mercy, asking the owner to give him and the tree one more chance. The gardener changes the status quo and works to bring about fruitfulness. In order to live, this tree and the tree’s community (the gardener) must change how they’re living together… because the way they are currently living isn’t fruitful - isn't life-giving.

A fig tree is meant to produce figs. If there are no figs, cut it down.

Who can tell me what happens to a tree when you cut it down (if you don’t remove the stump)? It sprouts new life. In other words, when the way you’re living isn’t fruitful, stop it - “cut it down.” That death will lead to new life. Death always leads to new life for us - that’s the promise.

Our world has become a place where harmoniously vulnerable relationships are in short supply. The way we are living together is killing us –literally. And when I say us, I include the global human family.

Ruthless, despicable government leaders doing horrible, shocking things to the poor and vulnerable among us is not new - as our gospel shows us. Neither are racism, differences in beliefs and spiritual practices, inadequate access to healthcare, clean water, food, or education, and changes in climate which, by the way, disproportionately affect the poor. The world has a long history of disruptions to harmonious relationships.

Yet, Jesus loved this world and everyone in it. Everyone. And Jesus gave his life for this world, taking our sins to the cross and giving his life for us, for all of us, for all time - “once for all,” as St. Paul said. Then he told us to love one another as he loved us.

Looking around at the state of the world today, it appears we have some repenting to do. The way we’re living together currently is killing us and creation and we must repent. We must identify where the disruptions are in our relationships, then allow God to make the needed fundamental changes in us and our understanding to restore us to the harmonious relationships God intends.

How do we do that in the midst of so much chaos and disruption? One small step at a time. One relationship at a time.

At a small church I served in Western North Carolina, we held what we called, Abraham’s Table: a family reunion. We gathered with our Jewish and Muslim neighbors to learn and share what our faiths have in common. By our prayers, we intentionally invited God to restore us to harmonious relationship with each other. It was a transforming experience for all of us and friendships were built where none had been, friendships that could withstand the prejudice and violence happening at that time in the form of multiple hate-driven attacks on Muslims and Jews.

When we sin (and we will sin throughout our lives) we are invited by a merciful, loving God to repent, to be changed in our very being, which will result in real change in what we’re doing. We’re invited to trust that God loves us, knows our sufferings, and desires to restore us to the fullness of harmonious relationships - with God, one another, ourselves, and creation.

When we choose to repent, we will find ourselves transformed, and we become more than we had been - more open, more vulnerable, more harmonious, more loving, and more able to bring that to the world in which we live. It is by love that God's plan of love is fulfilled - a plan of transformation for the whole world. Amen.

Ash Wednesday, 2025: Tending to the soil of our souls

Lectionary: Ps 51; Joel 2:1-2,12-17; Ps 103:8-14; 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10; Luke 18:9-14

Note: To see this sermon delivered live, click HERE. The sermon is at 31 minutes, 30 seconds.

En el nombre de Dios, que nos ama eternamente, nos guía a vivir con compasión y espera pacientemente mientras hacemos espacio en nuestro corazón, mente y alma para Su presencia...

In the name of God who loves us eternally, leads us to live compassionately, and waits patiently while we make space in our hearts, minds, and souls for Their presence. 

Ash Wednesday marks the first day of Lent, which, as you know, is my favorite season! On this day, we gather in solemn assembly in response to God's continuing call to us to repent - to return to God, opening our hearts, minds, souls, and strength to Them.

We fast if we can today and mark the sign of our salvation - the cross of Christ – on our foreheads with the dust of ashes. These traditional symbols represent our repentance and humility - two things we will focus on during these next five weeks of Lent.

Lent is not a time for us to wallow in the misery of our wretchedness as hopeless sinners. Psalm 51 simply recognizes that we sometimes feel wrethched - and act wretchedly - but God does not hold us as wretched. 

And 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 trust God and open our spiritual eyes as the God of all mercy raises up our faces toward Their loving countenance. Then we see and perceive God who is full of compassion, slow to anger, forgives our sins, and cares for us deeply, intimately, with a sacrificial love that knows no bounds.

Lent is also the time we get honest about ourselves and the walls we have put between God’s love and ourselves. We remember that we are all wonderfully made by our Creator, who does not hate any of us, who remains faithfully in love with all of us.

During Lent, we own that we do sin, and since the church focuses on sin and repentance during this season, let’s talk for a minute about what sin is and isn’t. Theologian Karl Barth talks about sin as a state of separation from God and from one another. It’s a state we can choose to hold onto or let go of according to our free will.

In that state of separation, we objectify God, our neighbor, and even creation, enabling us to erect walls in our relationships - walls of judgment, discrimination, disrespect, abuse, and exploitation. From behind those walls, sin happens easily, and justifications for those sins abound and catch on like a plague of moral irresponsibility.

In that state of separation, from behind those walls of sin, we do harm: telling a lie, pulling the trigger of an automatic weapon aimed at people, raping our land of minerals for profit, cheating on our spouse or partner, worshipping at the altar of money, beauty, youth, or power, or using God’s name for anything other than praise or worship.

Sin is not what we do. It’s what’s behind what we do.

Our sins result from a disrupted relationship with God. In the state of sin, we become the center of our universe. What we need or want takes precedence over what God or our neighbors need or want.

Every one of us will find ourselves, at times, lacking the will to be attentive to or compassionate about the needs of someone else, especially if it means we have to make some amount of sacrifice for them. There are times when we are not slow to anger, but we are slow to forgive or reconnect.

Our preoccupation with ourselves leads us to addictive behaviors, and we can be addicted to many things: being the center of attention, food, alcohol or drugs, work, the news, self-criticism, or power. We can even be addicted to “good” things like excessively exercising or taking vitamins, or serving others in order to affirm for ourselves that we are good or smart or important.

Lent is when we stop to notice what has captivated our attention lately, what has let us off our proverbial moral hooks, or allowed us to push others into the oblivion of our intentional blindness. Whatever that is and whatever has become the source of our comfort or truth in place of God is an idol, a stumbling block from which we need to repent.

The word "Lent" means “lengthening of days,” in other words, spring, and like the season of Spring, Lent is when we tend to the soil of our souls. Our Lenten practices are meant to soften and nourish the soil of our souls, inviting God to plant new seeds, new life in us.

The hard work of Lent is emptying ourselves of all that already fills us. As Americans, our most insidious sin is probably the expectation that we always deserve to be full and satisfied. Emptiness scares us. The nothingness of it feels like death, so we tend to avoid it.

That's why Lent matters. 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, our neighbors, or our future.

The traditional Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are reliable ways we can respond to God's call to us to repent, to return to God. As always, we begin with prayer.

Prayer brings us into the presence of God…the same God who created us, knows our humanity, and loves us for it… the same God who gave up his life on the cross for the forgiveness of sin… the same God who dwells in us and invites us to receive the seeds of new life.

Fasting reminds us of our mortality. It also provides a way for us to be in solidarity with those who truly hunger. Fasting enables us to remember how real and compelling hunger is. It connects us to those who actually hunger and moves us to compassion, to “suffer with” them - which is what that word means, so that we can act to relieve their suffering.

Almsgiving enables us who have enough to do what we can, even sacrifically, to relieve the suffering of those who don’t have enough. This year our Lenten alms will go to the Food Pantry to relieve the suffering of our hungry neighbors.

Our Lenten practices are embodied soul exercises, but if you are diabetic, on medication, or for some other reason you can't fast from food – don't. Fasting from food isn’t the only way to experience the emptiness that connects us compassionately to the suffering.

There is so much we can fast from besides food. We can fast from criticizing ourselves or others. We can fast from complaining, judging others, or harsh words. We can fast from over-exposure to the endless news cycles on tv and from addictively checking out updates on social media. If an activity that is habitual for you distracts you from your Lenten self-emptying, fast from that.

We also have the option of taking up a new practice. We might be led to find a saint to companion us on our Lenten journey, or take up a new ministry, or cultivate a new attitude. We might practice being a voice of good news in the midst of uncertainty, or using our voices in letters or on social media to speak in support of those who are suffering or afraid.

Self-emptying. Taking up. Choosing the new life being offered by God. This is our Lenten journey.

Let us pray… Almighty God, you love all you have made. Show us how to empty ourselves of all that isn’t loving. We turn to you and open our hearts, minds, and souls to you. Plant your seeds of new life in us, for we desire to love as you have loved us in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Last Epiphany, 2025-C: From glory to glory 

Lectionary: Exodus 34:29-35; Psalm 99; 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2; Luke 9:28-36

En el nombre de Dios que es nuestra fuente, nuestra luz, y nuestro sustento. Amén. In the name of God, who is our source, our light, and our sustenance. Amen.

The story of the Transfiguration of Jesus is one of those stories that seems so beyond our everyday experience of life and faith, but when we think about it, it really isn’t. It’s the first account of something we all experience in our faith journeys - if we’re awake to it.

This is a story of the revelation of Jesus as divine to his very human followers. It’s also the story of how we, like those first disciples, can open ourselves to this transforming experience and be changed by it into his likeness from glory to glory, as our Collect says.

Let’s break down the elements of this story to see how this works. 

The whole thing begins with prayer. Jesus takes Peter, John, and James up the mountain (Bible-speak for where God is encountered) to pray. During this shared prayer, Peter, John, and James become aware that Jesus’ face is changing and his clothes are becoming a dazzling white, which when we look to the original language, means: emitting light, brilliant, shining, glittering, radiant. Jesus - in his body - was emanating a dazzling light.

This kind of dazzling light traditionally refers to divine light, the light of the presence of God, in an earthly body. We see it in the story of Moses who didn’t know his face was shining with this light until Aaron told him. In response, Moses veiled his face since the people, even the leaders among them, were afraid to come near him because of it. It makes sense… how could Moses share the guidance of God given to him for the people in their exile if the people are afraid to come near him?

Next, we are told that Peter, John, and James see Moses and Elijah with Jesus in the midst of this dazzling light, and they’re talking about Jesus’ decease, his departure from his life on earth, which he was about to accomplish in Jerusalem. By witnessing this, Peter, John, and James can ground this experience in the strong foundation of their faith. I wonder if later, when they witnessed Jesus’ actual death in Jerusalem, they remembered this prophetic moment and took comfort in it.

Then the disciples reach the limit of their strength and physical endurance, or as Luke says it, they were weighed down with sleep. But since they stayed awake, they saw this amazing revelation.

Isn’t that always the case with us? It’s when we are emptied of everything: strength, thoughts, hubris; when we are at the very limit of our humanity, that God leads us beyond ourselves and into the divine mystery, into the experience of divine-human unity.

The revelation witnessed by Peter, John, and James, isn’t a one-time thing. It’s a first-time thing and the revelation continues for them as we see from Luke’s written accounts about the remainder of their earthly journeys.

Mountain-top experiences are not (I repeat not) unusual. They are part of our Christian journey and we all have them. Many of us simply aren’t awake enough to recognize them for what they are.

One of my mountain-top experiences happened when I was a teenager visiting the Grand Canyon. I was so overwhelmed by the splendor and awed by the size of it. My heart prayerfully poured out unbound gratitude at the beauty I was witnessing.

Another happened when I served a church in northern Michigan and saw the sky - unimpeded by city lights - so full of stars it literally took my breath away. In both of those instances, I was physically, emotionally, and spiritually overwhelmed by the majesty, magnificence, and beneficence of God.

A Bible Study member shared their story of a mountain-top experience while inside the Grand Canyon. Their experience moved from the magnificence of God’s creation to an intimate moment with God resulting in the release of some long-held grief. They came out of this experience feeling cleansed and set free.

We all have stories of mountain-top experiences, experiences where we become one with God while still in our bodies - our feet firmly planted on the earth. The divine and the human living as one. It happened first in Jesus. Now it happens in us, and it has a purpose.

Every mountain-top experience is an amazing gift from God that deepens and broadens our everyday experience in life and faith, drawing us closer in relationship with God and with one another. Each mountain-top experience we have brings down another barrier to love in those relationships. Each one also frees us up to walk the path God is setting before us, a path that will require us to take up our cross and love as Jesus did - which is the purpose - to transfigure us from glory to glory until we love as Jesus loved.

Most of us grow up drenched in images of divine light emanating from a human body, but we often don’t connect the dots to the potentiality of this for all of us. Our religious art is replete with images of God’s light emanating from the bodies of exemplars in our faith.

What comes to mind as I say that? Right - a HALO! A halo is an artistic representation of Emmanuel - of divine light emanating from the human body in which God dwells. That’s all of us, not just those listed in the books about saints.

As Episcopalians, we honor the saints who went before, the ones we call “the communion of saints.” These saints love us, continually pray for us, and offer to be our companions at any point on our path of life in faith.

All we have to do is invite them to join us. It’s as simple as that. 

The saints stand ready to share with us the gifts they were given during their time on earth, gifts that might serve us at different moments in our lives. For example, during my process to ordination, Julian of Norwich was my companion. Knowing this, my first church, where I served my curacy, had this icon commissioned as a gift for my ordination. (Iconographer: Anne Davidson, Diocese of Western Michigan)

Later, as I was discerning a change in my path, St. Faustina, whom I’d never even heard of, came to me in a dream. I asked my then Spiritual Director, who was a Roman Catholic nun, if she’d ever heard of Faustina, and she said one of the nuns in her community was reading Faustina’s diary. She had a diary?! I immediately got the diary and before I finished the first chapter, I knew why Faustina offered to companion me in that part of my journey.

We all will have many mountain-top experiences of varying degrees of intensity throughout our lives, each one transforming us a little more, changing us from glory to glory, until we, like the saints before us, among us, and yet to come, emanate the radiance of the light of God.

We know that God has chosen us, has chosen to dwell in us, which means… God’s light emanates from us, whether we know it or not. We often exclude ourselves from the company of those lofty exemplars of our faith - but that’s a mistake.

We all have halos. Each of us is chosen by God and God dwells in us and emanates from us, just as God dwelled in and emanated from them.

Our journey through this earthly life is full of haloed companions on earth and in heaven. None of us travels alone.

Today, our Christian Formation is called Select-A-Saint Sunday - companions for the journey. Together, we will discuss saints who are or were, and we will learn how we can wake up to their presence with us now,and receive the gift of their companionship in our lives… and maybe even claim our own halos.

We have work to do bearing Christ’s love into our world. We’ll need our halos shining brightly. Amen.

6 Epiphany, 2025-C: With God's help

Lectionary: Jeremiah 17:5-10; Psalm 1; 1 Corinthians 15:12-20; Luke 6:17-26

 

En el nombre de Dios que es nuestra fuente, nuestra luz, y nuestro sustento. Amén. In the name of God who is our source, our light, and our sustenance. Amen.

Our Collect today talks about putting our trust in God. It also acknowledges that we are weak and can’t do anything good, that is, pleasing to God, without God’s help.

We tend to resist the idea that we are weak or helpless or that we can be misled, yet we know we are, and we can – not often, but it’s possible, especially if someone is willing to lie, manipulate, or threaten us and those we love.

In our Baptismal vows we repeat this phrase over and over, “I will with God’s help.” 

We are asked, will you continue in the apostles' teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of the bread, and in the prayers… will you persevere in resisting evil… will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ… will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself… and will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?  We reply: I will with God’s help. 

It isn’t easy though, is it? And it seems to be getting harder.

I spent quite a few hours these last couple of weeks in conversation with people burdened by pain, fear, betrayal, and a sense of helplessness. My counsel was for them to remember that we are God’s beloved, our hearts are united to God’s heart, so when we feel pain, we are sharing what God is feeling.

God knows the pain of a child being abused by its parent who should be loving and caring for them. God knows the grief of a black mother whose unarmed son was killed because he reached for a pack of Skittles. God knows the fear of a refugee being terrorized, mistreated, and degraded as “aliens.”

God also knows our frustration and grief at our own helplessness to stop someone from continuing to do harm to others. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Lutheran pastor who attempted to assassinate Hitler and was exterminated in a concentration camp for his crime, comes to mind here.

God knows all this because God is with us, within us. Emmanuel. 

Our Scripture readings today help clarify what we’re up against and illuminate our path forward in faith. Reading the gospel in the context of the other lessons is important, as I hope you will see.

The first word in today’s reading from the prophet Jeremiah is “Cursed.” Many of us read that as if God is punishing someone. But that’s wrong. Jeremiah isn’t talking about what God is doing, but what we are doing.

In the original Hebrew, this word means “ill-speaking” and “devoted to destruction.” I’ll restate the first verse using original language translations. Please follow along in the bulletin to see where the original language deepens our understanding. 

“Ill-speaking” are those who trust in mere human beings. Their words are hostile and do harm. “Devoted to destruction” are those who depart from God and instead look to political or military force for their strength.

Our psalm clarifies this even further. I’ll restate just the first verse using original language translations. Again, please read along to see how the original language deepens the message for us. “Blessed are those who have not acted according to the advice of the criminal, nor stood with those who don’t keep their promises, nor made their home with the pernicious criminal, the dishonest mocker.

I have to admit, when I researched these texts in their original languages, as I always do, I found the idea of preparing this sermon daunting. I know I can do nothing good without God’s help.

Then I remembered Jesus and his beautiful teaching from Luke in which Jesus shows us what the path of God looks like and does. In the end, we are the ones making the choice of which path we will follow: the path of God or the path of the false prophet.

Our gospel story begins with Jesus coming down from the mountain. Remember, “mountain” is Bible-speak for the place where God is encountered. Jesus spent the night on the mountain in prayer. With him were all of his followers. In the morning, Jesus chose 12 from among all his followers to be his apostles. He chose them all at once, apparently having been guided in prayer on whom to choose.

Side note: an apostle is one who is sent. We are the ones sent now.

Back to the story… Together, Jesus and the newly chosen 12 went down to a level place and stood in front of a multitude of Jewish people from Jerusalem and Judea, and Gentile people from Tyre and Sidon. The “level place” is Bible-speak for how Jesus approached the crowd, treating no one as above or better than the other. Jesus approached them with equity, which the dictionary says is “being fair and just, in a way that takes account of and seeks to address existing inequalities.”

Again, we hear that the crowds were pressing in to hear Jesus, for as we heard last week, the word of God came from him. They pressed in trying to touch Jesus and have him touch them because they knew power came out from him power that could heal them; and Jesus did heal them - all of them - Jewish and Gentile - physically and spiritually. What a brilliant description of the inclusive love and care God has for all of us.

Then Jesus looked up at his disciples and taught them. This teaching, in Luke anyway, wasn’t for the gathered crowd. It was for his newly chosen 12. Again, I will restate this with original language translation. Please read along from the bulletin.

Blessed the poor (meaning them) because yours (meaning the 12) is the kingdom of God. Blessed the hungry now because you will satisfy them. Blessed the weeping now because you will laugh them. Blessed are you (meaning the 12) when men hate you and separate you, revile you, cast you out, and name you evil for the sake of the Son of Man. Rejoice this day and leap for joy. Then your reward in heaven is abundant, then they do to you as their fathers did against the prophets.

Nevertheless, grief and public condemnation, you (meaning the 12) the rich because you are receiving your encouragement.  Grief and public condemnation you who have been filled now because you will be hungry. Grief and public condemnation you the laughing now because you will mourn and weep. Grief and public condemnation you when all men speak well of you then they do to you as their fathers did to the false prophets.

Jesus is teaching a lesson for us all on how to be his apostles. We are the ones making the choice of which path we will follow: the path of God as Jesus taught it, or the path of the false prophet.

When we follow Jesus’ teaching, we do not seek wealth or a wealthy lifestyle, we are not haughty, and we don’t seek public adulation for proclaiming the Good News of God in Christ. Those who do are false prophets.

We do connect with the poor and share the good news we know with them, remembering to feed them first when their bodies are hungry, so they can receive our spiritual gift. We do sit with those who weep for whatever reason and embody the joy of the Lord for them, knowing it isn’t for us to fix the problems others have but to be available to God to hear and act in the ways God asks us to in the moment.

We do take criticism of our compassion as an honor knowing the world hates it, but God loves it. In fact, God requires it (remember the Great Commandment). We do love and care for all of God’s beloved ones who suffer. We are those presently standing in a long line of faithful folks who were denounced and censured for embodying God’s abundant, inclusive love in the world.

When people ask me, what can I do in the face of so much pain and fear, I say: love and pray. Love God and love your neighbor as yourself. Love as Jesus loved. Love so that the haters criticize you. Love until the hungry are satisfied and the weeping are laughing. 

Pray for our enemies and bless those who persecute us. Our prayer opens a path of grace into their souls.

When we love and pray like this, then we’ll know we’re on the right path. Then we’ll know we’ve chosen the path of God over the path of the false prophet. 

 We aren’t left helpless and we don’t have to fix the problems of the world. We are a people chosen, empowered, and sent by God to bear the kingdom of God onto the earth. Every step we take on this path of God we take with God’s help. Amen.

5 Epiphany, 2025-C: The great encounter

 Lectionary: Isaiah 6:1-8, [9-13]; Psalm 138; 1 Corinthians 15:1-11; Luke 5:1-11 

En el nombre de Dios que es nuestra fuente, nuestra luz, y nuestro sustento. Amén. In the name of God who is our source, our light, and our sustenance. Amen. 

Dutch priest and theologian, Henri Nouwen, once said, "It is a mystery that the heart, which is the center of our being, is transformed by God into God's own heart, a heart large enough to embrace the entire universe. Through prayer, we can carry in our heart all human pain and sorrow, all conflicts and agonies, all torture and war, all hunger, loneliness and misery, not because of some great psychological or emotional capacity, but because God's heart has become one with ours."

Today’s readings offer us the opportunity to consider the process of our own spiritual development from obedience to a transformed heart, a heart that is in unity with the heart of God. This process moves us from thinking up our own solutions and plans to hearing the call of God upon us, within us, and responding to that. This process works in us both as a faith community and individually since we are the body of Christ, and individually members of it.

Here's how it usually works: God calls to us and says, I want you to do this… Who me? No, I can’t do that, as Moses said. Or… no thanks, God, I don’t want to do that, as Jonah said. Or… that’s impossible God, as Mary the Mother of God said. Or… as we heard Isaiah say, Not me God, for I’ve strayed from your path of righteousness. Like others around me, I say and do unloving things.

We have lots of very rational “not me” responses when God calls to us: I/we don’t have enough time, talent, or treasure to do what you ask, God. It’s pretty much our knee-jerk response, isn’t it?

As our psalmist reminds us, God has a purpose for each of us and all of us, and God will strengthen and empower us to accomplish that purpose. God’s enduring love and presence with us assure us of Their divine protection, guidance, and provision, every step of the way.

This is exactly what Jesus is demonstrating in our gospel story. As we ponder this story, I ask you to listen prayerfully, with your hearts as well as with your heads, because this story is full of symbolic imagery and action.

The setting is the northern portion of the Sea of Galilee near Gennesaret. The timeline, in this gospel anyway, begins with Jesus claiming his identity as the Messiah having read from the scroll of Isaiah in his homeetown synagogue in Nazareth, angering some who heard him. From there Jesus goes to Galilee where he drives an unclean spirit out of a man in the that synagogue. Then he goes to Simon’s house where he heals Simon’s mother-in-law of a debilitating fever. As a result, people came to Simon’s house from all around, seeking spiritual and physical healing. Jesus layed hands on them and healed them all. Then he went throughout Judea to teach in the synagogues and the people heard the word of God come from him. Jesus’ reputation for wisdom and healing spread like wildfire in the region.

This explains why the crowds were pressing in on Jesus in today’s gospel story. To serve them well, Rabbi Jesus plans to use the geography of the area to amplify his voice by going out a little way into the lake to teach.

Jesus goes to Simon, whom he wouldn’t have known yet, and asks Simon to take him out in his boat so he can teach the gathering crowd. Simon, who has just returned from an unsuccessful night of fishing and cleaned his nets, is tired and probably ready to go home to sleep.

Poor Simon Peter. He’s tired, frustrated, and has no food to bring home to his family or to sell after a long night of practicing his trade. Yet, he takes this rabbi on his boat so he can teach the gathering crowd. This puts Simon Peter up close to Jesus as he teaches. I can’t even imagine how transforming that would be!

When he had finished teaching, the rabbi, who is not an experienced fisherman, told Simon (notice he didn’t ask this time) to go out farther and let down his nets to catch fish. We’ve just got back, Simon says, there are no fish out there. But if you say so, I will let down the nets. I will obey.

The fish are so plentiful that the nets begin to break. Another boat is called in to help haul in this incredible abundance of fish. Both boats are so loaded up they begin to sink. What a vivid illustration of the abundance of God!

Luke says that when Simon Peter saw this, he fell to his knees before Jesus confessing his sinfulness. Whenever we become aware that we are in the presence of God, we also become keenly aware of how weak, insignificant, and broken we are by comparison.

Jesus comforts Simon Peter saying those words that always come from heaven right before a call is issued: “Do not be afraid.” Then Jesus issues Simon his divine purpose: “from now on,” he says, “you will be catching people.”

I need to point out that in Jesus’ time, that phrase was used to talk about teachers gathering students. Jesus is anointing Peter to become a teacher of so many people that his proverbial nets will break and boats will sink from the numbers of them. Turns out, Jesus was right!

The story ends with Simon - and others – devoting their lives to this newly revealed purpose. Luke says they left everything else behind to follow Jesus. And there it is… the movement from obedience to a transformed heart, a heart in unity with the very heart of God.

As I often say: thank God for Simon Peter! He’s so like us. He doesn’t get it, then he gets it, then he doesn’t again. Yet, God stays with Simon Peter, forming him, guiding him, and making him ready to serve. Simon Peter wasn’t successful because he was so smart or skilled. Clearly he wasn’t. But as Brother Andrew once said, “God does not choose people because of their ability, but because of their availability.”

Simon Peter’s availability to God transformed him and his mission, and the outcome was an abundance of transformed hearts in numbers so large no one could have imagined it. This, my beloved family of God at Emmanuel, is our call too: to be available to God knowing that if we answer this call, we and our mission will be transformed.

The world is now and always has been, as Henri Nouwen said, filled with pain, sorrow, conflicts andagonies, torture, war, hunger, loneliness, and misery – but we believe that our hearts are united to the heart of God, and through prayer, we can not only survive the pain and misery, but serve as lights of Christ in it. Without prayer, I don’t know how we’d even survive.

Nouwen also said this about prayer: “Prayer is standing in the presence of God with the mind in theheart… where there are no divisions or distinctions and where we [and God] are totally one. There God's Spirit dwells and there the great encounter takes place. There heart speaks to heart...” ("The Way of the Heart: The Spirituality of the Desert Fathers and Mothers")

Our prayer, whether alone at home, or together in our worship, keeps us aware that we are always living, walking, and serving in the real and powerful presence of God who protects us, guides us, and provides for us in every step we take. And when we stray from the path of righteousness, as Isaiah did, God acts to restore us. And when we humbly surrender, as Peter did, we are empowered to serve in unity with the very heart of God. Amen.

3 Epiphany & Annual Parish Meeting 2025-C: Our identity and our anointing

Lectionary: Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10; Psalm 19; 1 Corinthians 12:12-31a; Luke 4:14-21 

En el nombre de Dios que es nuestra fuente, nuestra luz, y nuestro sustento. Amén. 

In the name of God who is our source, our light, and our sustenance. Amen.

The Annual Parish Meeting, which we will have following this service, is an opportunity for us to gather as a parish family, strengthen the bonds of our unity, and dream our path forward together for the next year. As God usually does, God has provided us guidance on this path through our Scripture.

It’s the year, 538 BC, in the reading from Nehemiah, and the King of Persia, Cyrus, has issued a decree that allows the people of Israel to return from their exile in Babylon and rebuild their temple which had been destroyed. More than 42,000 people returned.

The transition wasn’t easy, though. They lost their unity, breaking into factions. One local group went to the authorities saying that some of those Jewish people were planning a rebellion against King Cyrus. The king immediately halted the temple rebuilding.

Enter the prophet and priest, Ezra, bringing with him the law of God as given to Moses. Ezra went against Jewish tradition, however, reading from the Torah to a crowd of people assembled at the Water Gate, outside the temple precincts - a crowd that included women, children, and others who would have been excluded from temple worship; people who had never been allowed to hear the story of God’s love for them.

After reading the Torah, Ezra said to them, "Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions of them to those for whom nothing is prepared, for this day is holy to our Lord; and do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength."

In our New Testament reading, Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles, is addressing the people in the cosmopolitan city of Corinth. The Corinthians were of so many diverse descriptions that they struggled to find their unity as followers of Christ. Paul, a Pharisee, shared with the Corinthians the strength of the law of Moses coupled with the Good News of salvation in Jesus Christ, using a brilliant metaphor everyone could understand. “Just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized.”

Paul taught that each member of the body, though different, is important, and the body is incomplete and can’t function properly without all of its parts present, respected, and honored, saying “...God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another… Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.”

Both of these stories present unity in diversity as the will of God. In the world, the transition to the fullness of this kind of unity isn’t easy for us to accomplish. We tend to devolve into factions of “us” and “them.” We judge the factions: we are good, they are bad. Then we feel justified when we alienate, oppress, or imprison “them,” withhold lifesaving food, medicine, or community from “them,” and even outright kill “them.”

Thankfully, God has always provided us with presence and guidance enabling us to find our path to harmony. First, the Mosaic law was given to our forebears, the people of Israel. Then God themself became incarnate in Jesus Christ and lived among us showing us how to live in unity and love in all our diversity - breaking bread with women, sinners, and outcasts, healing those culture claimed were obviously cursed by God with illness or poverty, forgiving sin, and calling us to treat everyone with respect and dignity. As Jesus said: We are to love God with all our heart, mind, strength, and soul, and love our neighbor as ourselves.

In the gospel story, Jesus reads from the scroll of Isaiah, claiming his identity and mission as the Messiah, which means, The Anointed One. To be anointed is to have a divine or holy purpose conferred upon you, to be chosen for a special work and filled with the Spirit of God to accomplish that work.

Jesus claims to be anointed “to bring good news to the poor; to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, [and] to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." In his identity as Messiah, Jesus’ focus is on being in loving unity with and caring for everyone, including the poor, the captive, the blind, and the oppressed.

What are we, at Emmanuel Episcopal Church, anointed to do in the name of God in Christ? Where is our focus?

It’s important to acknowledge that we are richly blessed. Our parish family continues to grow in numbers, gifts, diversity, and joy - the joy of the Lord truly is our strength. As we prepare to gather in our Annual Parish Meeting, we re-affirm our identity as members of the body of Christ in the world, and our anointing to serve faithfully in the name of God.

Let us pray: God of all, we love you. We thank you. We trust you. We humbly and intentionally open ourselves to you, God, letting go of our plans and ideas, and making space for you to fill us anew, so that we, the part of the body of Christ chosen for this moment and time, may live as one body and walk together in the will of God. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

1 Epiphany, 2025-C: The cosmic truths in Baptism

Lectionary: Isaiah 43:1-7; Psalm 29, Acts 8:14-17; Luke 3:15-17, 21-22 

Video of this sermon can also be found HERE. The sermon begins at 9 minutes, 15 seconds.

En el nombre de Dios que es nuestra fuente, nuestra luz, y nuestro sustento... In the name of God who is our source, our light, and our sustenance. Amen.

The stories of Jesus’ baptism in our four Gospels vary widely. Let’s take a minute to look at them.

The Gospel of Mark, believed to be written first, begins by introducing John the Baptist (JB), who is baptizing people in the Jordan River. In the 2nd paragraph of this gospel, Jesus arrives and is baptized by John. The Spirit descends upon Jesus and a voice from heaven, speaking directly to Jesus says, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” There is no indication that anyone else was there or heard it.

In the Gospel of Matthew, which drew from the Gospel of Mark, the baptism of Jesus is found at the end of the 3rd chapter. John protests at first but is convinced by Jesus to baptize him. The Spirit descends upon Jesus and when the voice from heaven spoke, it was to John the Baptizer saying, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” There is no indication that anyone else was present, though it is implied.

Near the end of the first chapter of the Gospel of John, JB sees Jesus approaching and proclaims to his disciples who are present, “This is the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” John the Baptizer goes on to claim his own prophesied purpose: to reveal the Messiah. Jesus’ actual baptism is not described in this gospel - only John’s proclamation bearing witness to having seen the Spirit descend upon Jesus, identifying him as the one who baptizes with the Spirit.

The Gospel of Luke, which we read today, begins with the story of the birth of John the Baptist, moves through Mary’s Magnificat and the Nativity, to our story today. This gospel also does not describe Jesus’ actual baptism. In this version, JB’s disciples are filled with expectation about John’s proclamation of the coming of the Messiah. John prophesies that the Messiah will baptize with the Spirit, clear away evil (the chaff) in the world, and purify everyone in the unquenchable fire of God’s love.

Luke says that sometime after the people and Jesus had been baptized, Jesus was praying. That’s when the heavens opened and the voice from heaven, speaking to Jesus, says, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” John the Baptizer is not even present. 

For some reason, our lectionary leaves out the verses in the middle of this account – verses that explain why John wasn’t present: he had been locked up in prison for publicly criticizing Herod for marrying his brother’s wife, Herodius. 

So, in Luke’s version, JB isn’t present when the voice of heaven speaks to Jesus. There’s no indication that anyone else was there either.

So, which is the true and correct version? They all are.

Our Holy Scriptures preserve the story of God’s love affair with us. Each of the gospels offers us a perspective on that story. Each one reaches us differently and reaches beyond us to invite others into this love story. All bear witness to the Good News of God in Christ.

In these four versions of the story of Jesus’ baptism, there are four points of complete agreement: 

1. JB, Jesus’ kin, proclaims the coming of the Messiah; 
2. John baptized Jesus; 
3. John baptized with water, but the Messiah will baptize with the Holy Spirit; 
4. the Spirit of God descended upon Jesus. 

Taken as a whole, however, the gospels give us a beautiful picture filled with cosmic truth.

We remember that John leaped in his mother Elizabeth’s womb when Mary, pregnant with Jesus, came near. Not only were JB and Jesus kin, but their relationship began before they were born.

It might help us to remember that we are all kin in the family of God, who created us in all our diversity of style, race, gender, location, and time. Like JB and Jesus, our relationships began before we were born. We all come from and return to the same source: God.

JB baptizing Jesus demonstrates our need for ritual as a means to see and experience, in a manifest way, the union of humanity and divinity as a reality in our earthly experience. The overwhelming, incomprehensible gift of God being in us, with us, in every moment of our lives is so difficult to grasp and even harder to maintain. Our rituals, which we repeat throughout our lives, helps ground us continually in this cosmic truth.

Jesus baptizing with the Holy Spirit assures us that by our ritual, the outward sign, we can share the experience of receiving the grace of the Spirit of God, made manifest in the person of Jesus, and given to us to dwell in us.

The Spirit of God descending on Jesus shows us how that gift is given. Jesus demonstrates how gently and intimately the Spirit of God connects with us and co-exists within our human bodies.

Now we, who continue to practice the outward sign, do so in the blessed assurance that God in Christ is, at the same time, descending upon us. It is a cooperative, symbiotic relationship between humanity and divinity.

In his earthly ministry John the Baptizer (JB) heralded the path to righteousness to us: repentance. Then he explained it as we discussed a few weeks ago on Advent 3. 

JB was urging his followers to repent, to change the way they were living their lives. When they asked JB how they should repent, he said, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise."

JB further proclaimed that all who stray from the path of righteousness, will be thrown into the unquenchable fire. Despite what you may have heard, this isn’t a threat. It’s a promise, and while I preached it only a few weeks ago, it’s worth repeating.

God is love. Fire is a common symbol in Scripture for the presence of God. That this fire is unquenchable should comfort us – God’s love for us can never be snuffed out or used up. When we enter this fire, we enter the presence of God who created us and recreates us continually so that we may grow in wisdom and grace all the days of our lives.

The Baptism of Jesus marks the beginning of Jesus’ earthly ministry. As JB’s followers shifted from following John to following Jesus, their understanding of Messiah was also transformed as they grew in relationship with Jesus.

Isn’t that true for all of us? This is another cosmic truth. Whatever version of Jesus we were first taught, the Spirit of God given to us in our Baptism continues to grow us and transform us – from glory to glory, as the saying goes. Throughout our lives our understanding and experience of Jesus deepens, broadens, and strengthens because his Spirit dwells in us.

We’ll never have it all or know it all, but that isn’t the goal, is it? The goal is to be who God made us to be, that we might accomplish the part of God’s plan entrusted to us. We are created to be living manifestations of God’s love in the world - beloved, honored, treasured of God, and to proclaim the cosmic truth of that to everyone, as often as we can, by our words and our deeds.

This week our nation collectively mourned the loss of President Jimmy Carter. Whatever you thought of his politics, President Carter demonstrated this cosmic truth in his commitment to living as a true follower of Jesus. As just one example, President Carter and his wife, Rosalynn, worked with Habitat for Humanity for over 35 years. He was 95 years old at his last Habitat build. Serving wasn’t what Jimmy Carter did. It was who he was.

He wasn’t perfect. Neither is any one of us. Again, that isn’t the goal.

Our goal is to be just as God created us to be and to use every gift we’re given to be living manifestations of God’s love in the world, letting everyone know that they too are beloved, honored, and treasured of God. We do this in a world where that is mightily resisted, ridiculed as irrelevant, and even punished as offensive.

That’s OK. So did Jesus. He knows what we face and because his Spirit dwells in us, he faces it with us. We are not alone.

Plus, we have each other. Our love and friendship will carry us through the rough times and the joyful times, as we figure out together how to love Jesus and love as Jesus loves us. Amen.