16 Pentecost, 2023-A: Co-creators of heaven on earth

 Lectionary (Proper 19): Exodus 14:19-31; Psalm 114; Romans 14:1-12; Matthew 18:21-35 

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

Our Scripture today is all about relationship: God’s relationship with us (the way of heaven) and our relationships with one another (the way of earth). As Christians, it is our mission to make the way of heaven and the way of earth the same reality, the only reality – “on earth as it is in heaven.”

Our Scripture stories teach us that the way of heaven is characterized by mercy and forgiveness while the way of earth is too often unmerciful and unforgiving. While the words of our stories today may be jarring and difficult to hear, the overriding message is such good news! The ultimate plan of God is for the redemption of the whole world, the reclamation of all back into the love from which we were created.

Forgiveness is complicated. We often have to offer it in the absence of satisfaction. It’s only natural to want to be satisfied that someone knows we’ve been wronged and makes it right again, but often, what we seek as justice is really retribution or revenge.

In addition, the one who sinned against us may never acknowledge their sin or accept our forgiveness. That doesn’t matter because when we offer forgiveness, it isn’t to fix a problem or heal a wound. It’s to let it go, to release it, to loose it, and trust God to do the rest.

Ultimately, forgiveness is a gift of freedom. It frees our thoughts from the tyrannical presence of the sinner and the sin. It frees our bodies from the stresses of the hurt and pain. And it frees our souls from the bleeding of the ruptured relationship.

I share a poem from Mpho Tutu, Desmond Tutu’s daughter. It’s called “I will forgive” 

“I will forgive you. 

The words are so small, but there’s a universe hidden in them. 

When I forgive you, all those cords of resentment, pain, and sadness 

that had wrapped themselves around my heart 

will be gone. 

When I forgive you, you will no longer define me.

You measured me, and assessed me,

and decided that you could hurt me,

that I didn’t count. 

But I will forgive you because I do count.

I do matter.

I am bigger than the image you have of me.

I am stronger. I am more beautiful.

I am infinitely more precious than you thought me.

I will forgive you.

My forgiveness is not a gift that I am giving to you.

When I forgive you,

my forgiveness will be a gift that gives itself to me.”

When I was a teenager, I was on a swim team with my younger sister. We used to practice in roped-off lanes between the docks on our lake. During one swim practice, my sister got a cramp and began to go under. When I jumped in to help her, she, like many other people who fear they are drowning, began to fight me.

I was trained as a lifeguard and she was an experienced swimmer, but the problem wasn’t about swimming. I knew my sister could die if I didn’t connect with her just then; and surprising even myself, I called out to her: “Sissy, do you trust me?”

The question caught her attention, and she stopped flailing - just for a moment. I used that pause in her panic to grab her into the save hold. Once in the save hold, her head was near mine, so I could speak assurances to her as we headed for shore.

Sometimes God’s save hold feels like that.

In our story from Exodus God tells Moses to stretch out his hand. God is asking Moses, do you trust me? Will you go where I lead you, even if it’s into the sea where you might drown? I have promised to lead my people to the Promised Land, God says. Do you trust me? Take my people with you. Some are going to fight you. They’re just afraid. Hold onto them anyway.

The part of this story that jars us is the end of it. What about those Egyptians who lay dead on the shore? How can God destroy people like that? Aren’t they also children of God?

The answer is yes! There is a traditional Jewish midrash (commentary) that says, “on seeing the drowning Egyptians the angels were about to break into song when God silenced them declaring, “How dare you sing for joy when” my children lay dead on the ground? (Talmud, Megillah 10b and Sanhedrin 39b).

God’s plan is for the reconciliation of the whole world. Therefore, it always includes reclaiming the least, the lost, the hated, and the hateful. Reconciliation re-establishes relationship with them which restores the family of God to wholeness.

By our Baptism, we have been made co-creators with God. As we heard last week, what we hold bound on earth, is held bound in heaven and what we loose on earth is loosed in heaven. This is how we co-create the reality in which we live. We choose it.

The sin, the hurt, the wound we cling to remain in us. The rupture in relationship caused by the sin takes up space in our thoughts and eventually affects our bodies. Anger, resentment, and tension become stomach aches, headaches, high blood pressure, and lots of other somatic symptoms. Is this the reality we want?

Our other choice is to forgive. When we forgive, we set the sin and the sinner loose. We release it from ourselves, our bodies and souls, and trust God to bring about justice and reconciliation – remembering that God’s plan includes the reclamation of all – even the one who sinned.

It may take a moment, or it may take years. Sometimes justice and reconciliation may not be something we get to see happen in our lifetime, but it will happen. That’s the promise.

Most of us talk about sin as those things we do that are wrong or harmful. That’s partly right. Theologian Karl Barth talks about sin as a state of separation from God and one another. It is when we are in that state of separation that we do those things that are wrong and harmful.

It’s kind of like the disease versus the symptoms. We know there is a disease by the presence of the symptoms. We can treat the symptoms, but unless we cure the disease, we are not healed. That’s why Jesus brought us redemption by the forgiveness of sin, bringing down all barriers that separate us from God and from one another.

In his most miserable, painful, humiliating moment as a human, as he was dying on the cross, Jesus’ prayer takes our breath away: “Father, forgive them…” At our most miserable moments, when we have been unfairly treated or wronged, is this our prayer?

Years ago I visited a place in England called the Cathedral at Coventry. The city of Coventry was bombed into near oblivion during WWII and the cathedral was destroyed. When you go to the cathedral now, you will see that they didn’t clear away the rubble from the bombing. They simply built the new cathedral adjacent and attached it to the bombed-out shell with a walkway.

The very first thing you see as you walk into the narthex of the new cathedral, written in the tile on the floor, are the words: “Father forgive” and every day they offer Noonday Prayer in the bombed-out shell. They do not forget, but they continually forgive.

We all must continually forgive every time the hurt or anger rises up in us again. It’s a process.

Since we all sin, we all need to be forgiven, and we all need to be forgiving. Jesus makes this very plain in the story of the wicked slave in the gospel. The slave-owner (God) forgives the slave who begs for mercy on the debt he can’t repay. Then that same slave goes out and cruelly and violently punishes those who owe him. When the slave owner learns about this, he becomes enraged: You wicked slave! he says. Shouldn’t you have forgiven them as I forgave you? By not forgiving, you have held that sin bound and condemned yourself to an eternity of torture by your choice.

When we refuse to forgive, we are the ones who suffer. Whether we refuse to forgive another, or ourselves, or even when we refuse to forgive God, we suffer because our relationship has been disrupted. We, who are one, become fractured. If you’ve ever broken a bone, you know how painful a fracture is. The same is true of a fractured relationship.

To forgive is to trust that God will bring about divine justice, reconciliation, and wholeness from every experience of brokenness on earth. When we try to do this ourselves, it’s like trying to save ourselves from drowning. We can’t.

Each of us will need to be forgiven at some point in our lives, and each of us will need to forgive someone else. Forgiveness is a spiritual muscle we must develop and practice and church is where we do that. Offering our prayers and praise to God and sharing in God’s holy food of Communion strengthens and unites us. We need to eat together, pray together, and play together. We even need to disagree together.

Church is where we co-create the way of heaven on earth. It’s where we learn and practice forgiveness so that we can take it out into the world because as you know, our world remains sorely divided and held bound by sin.

Each one of us is created by God, treasured of God, gifted and sent by God to co-create the way heaven on earth. Our church equips and supports us to accomplish this. After our worship today we will enjoy time together at our Homecoming Picnic with Community Matters & Ministry Fair, connecting the dots, that is, listening for how God is gifting us in this moment of our Christian journey, then finding the ministries of the church that enable us to use those gifts as we work together to make the way of heaven and the way of earth the same reality, the only reality. Amen. 

11 Pentecost, 2023-A: In every joy and every storm

Lectionary: Lectionary (Proper 14): Genesis 37:1-4, 12-28; Psalm 105:1-6, 16-22, 45b; Romans 10:5-15; Matthew 14:22-33 

En el nombre del Dios, que es Trinidad en unidad. Amen.

Look up. What do you see?

Most churches are intentionally constructed to be an ark, like Noah’s ark, a vessel that protects God’s people, keeping them from harm and destruction. This building is our ark, our boat, and we are the disciples in it.

Storms will happen. They are not our fault or of our own making. It’s the reality of a world that is in the “almost but not yet” time, the New Age, the New Covenant inaugurated by Jesus.

We will be tossed by storms, but when that happens and we are afraid, we remain together in the boat and watch for Jesus who will walk towards us, hand outstretched, ready to save, because Jesus is coming. Jesus is always coming.

It is our nature as humans to seek stasis. We like things to be comfortable and predictable, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Our worship rituals are an expression of this.

The challenge comes when the world doesn’t cooperate, when storms arise out there, or even in here. Storms toss us into deep water and like a child learning to swim, we turn and grab for the side of the pool, thrashing if we have to, to get ourselves to safety.

That’s what I picture when I hear this story and think of Peter out there on the water – sinking. Peter… thank God for Peter! He’s so us!

The story goes like this: Jesus has just finished feeding the 5,000. Imagine the spiritual high an experience like that would create in the disciples. When the crowds are gone, Jesus compels the disciples to get on the boat without him and set out. Jesus goes off by himself to a mountain to pray.

When it was evening, Jesus returns from his prayer and sees that the boat has been carried far from land and is being battered by a storm. Aware of his disciples’ predicament, Jesus waits until morning to act. They must endure this storm through the darkness of night.

Do you hear this symbolism? Matthew is a genius writer.

Most of us have experienced nights like that. Whether it’s an earthly circumstance that we must suffer through or a dark night of the soul that envelops us, those nights can be terrifying and seem endless.

When I divorced my first husband who was terribly abusive, we had to establish a visitation schedule as all divorcing parents must. My ex used the exchange time as an opportunity to threaten me, so the court established that our child must be exchanged at my aunt’s home and someone had to be present to protect me and witness the exchange.

On one occasion, I was waiting at my aunt’s house for my child to be returned. The deadline time came and went with no word. This was before cell phones so figuring he was en route, I waited, getting more and more distressed as the time ticked on.

Finally, my ex called my aunt’s house to tell me that he was not going to return our child. He said he decided I needed a break and was doing this for my own good. I reminded him that the order required him to return her and his violation would be considered kidnapping – a stipulation of our agreement since he had previously threatened to kidnap her.

It was a Friday afternoon at 4:30 so he knew I couldn’t reach the court to enforce our agreement. There was nothing I could do until Monday morning, so I went upstairs, knelt down on the blue-black, indoor-outdoor carpeting of my cousin’s bedroom, and prayed.

I hadn’t prayed in a long time and wasn’t sure God would hear me, or that God was even there. I was completely broken, helpless, and had no clue what to do. I had no words to pray with either. I just stayed there on my knees, hoping God would show up and guide me - and God did.

I “heard” in my soul that I should wait; that my daughter would be returned to me and all would be well. A peace fell over me and though I was still terrified, I obeyed. It was the longest two days of my life. I felt like Peter sinking on the water.

I called my parents to let them know what happened. My father wanted to jump into action, hire a private investigator to find my child, contact my lawyer to get an emergency hearing, and other things I couldn’t hear because I tuned him out. I couldn’t manage his storm while I was being tossed about in my own.

I told my father that we would wait until Monday and ask the court to enforce the order. He responded by shouting that I was crazy; that by Monday they would be long gone never to be found again. My fear exactly.

I stood firm trusting in the peace that still wrapped my soul. On Monday morning, I called my lawyer and told him what happened. He called for an emergency hearing, for which my ex was late, and I had my daughter back in my arms by lunchtime.

There is no terror, no storm, no dark night of the soul that we ever go through alone. Jesus is there so we need not be afraid, his hand outstretched ready to save.

To “save” is not to direct our soul to eternal bliss and away from eternal damnation, despite what some Christians have said for so long. To be saved is literally: to make sound, to preserve safe from danger, loss, or destruction. That’s what Jesus did for Peter then and it’s what Jesus does for all of us now.

When God is acting, it will often defy our ability to understand or explain. The laws we’ve discovered or developed to calm the chaos of our world are helpful, but incomplete, and easily overcome by the love of God in action. What shouldn’t be able to happen does happen.

Once a man came to me for prayer. They found a mass on his esophagus, and he wanted me to offer prayer and a blessing ahead of his surgery the next day. He said he was terrified because he was now the same age his father was when he died of esophageal cancer.

We met and I offered healing prayer, anointing with holy oil, and a blessing ahead of his surgery. As always, we asked God to remove the mass, knowing that God’s plan may or may not be to remove that mass, but Jesus said to ask for what we needed, and that’s what he needed.

The next day, I met him and his wife at the surgery center to pray before they took him back. They told us it would take about four hours, so I went back to work. His wife assured me she would let me know when he got out of surgery so we could pray and give thanks.

An hour later, the wife called me to tell me they were bringing him to recovery. I rushed to the surgery center to find the man and his wife happily chatting. Seeing my surprise, they told me that the doctors opened him up and found no mass at all, so they closed him up and sent him to recovery. They were both on a spiritual high having received a truly miraculous answer to their prayer.

Sometimes the love of God in action can’t be explained, only accepted with thanks. This man and I continue to share this story – to confess the Good News we know, not so that we will be saved (Paul got that wrong), but because we are saved, we have been made sound, preserved from danger, loss, and destruction by Jesus. All of us have.

There is nothing we can do to save ourselves or anyone else. Only God can save and Jesus, who is God, already did it – once for all (Paul got that one right).

So, let’s be brave and share the many ways God’s love has acted in our lives and in our world, to remind people that we are already saved and that we are loved beyond our comprehension by God in Christ who is always with us, in every joy and in every storm. Amen.

7 Pentecost, 2023-A: The prodigal church of a prodigal God

Lectionary: Genesis 25:19-34; Psalm 119:105-112; Romans 8:1-11; Matthew 13:1-9,18-23 

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

If there is a creature to whom my soul is attached, my prayer connected, it’s a turkey vulture. That’s right… I said a turkey vulture. The turkey vulture connected with me most powerfully in 2016 while I was on spiritual retreat.

For most people the turkey vulture is ugly with that wrinkly red skin on their heads; and gross because they eat dead, rotting road kill. It’s true, they aren’t beautiful like an eagle, or elegant like a hawk – until you see them in flight. The wingspan of this raptor is 5 ½ feet long with finger-like feathers that spread out and touch the wind as they ride the thermals and updrafts with effortless grace and wisdom.

The turkey vulture has one great weakness, though: it’s feet and talons are weak, so it can’t swoop down to grab and kill prey like hawks and owls do. That’s why it feeds on dead animals, which seems like a disgusting way to have to go and makes one wonder what eternal sin they are being punished for (seriously, I don’t believe in that…).

In reality, turkey vultures serve an immensely important role in the big picture of creation. Their powerful digestive juices allow them to eat dead animals without getting sick, thereby saving other animals from the spread of dangerous infections and harmful bacteria. Their featherless heads, while not classically beautiful, allow them to eat their food without picking up harmful bacteria or infection.

Sunlight helps disinfect their heads and feathers, so in the mornings, turkey vultures gather in great numbers, raise their heads and lift their wings, and allow the sun to cleanse them. It’s an amazingly beautiful sight – these magnificent birds doing a prayerful sun salutation.

The scientific name for turkey vulture is cathartes aura, which means ‘golden purifier.’ Ancient Greeks considered them symbols of heaven and earth, spirit and matter, good and evil – all in one physical body.

I see them as the perfect illustration of St. Paul’s discussion in today’s portion of the letter to the Romans. Life and death, flesh and spirit – all transformed in us because of our relationship to Jesus, who is the Christ. Since, as Paul says, “the Spirit of God dwells in” us, we are spirit and matter, good and evil, death and life – all in one physical body.

From the turkey vulture, we also learn that what we might consider to be waste is actually a valuable part of God’s life-giving plan and evidence of the interconnectedness of all creation. We may judge road-kill as waste, but the turkey vulture sees it as sustenance!

There is no such thing as waste in God’s economy. 

By being itself, and doing what God created it to do, the turkey vulture contributes to the health and well-being of the earth and the creatures of God who live on it. Everyone has a divine purpose, even those we might judge as worthless, gross, useless, or bad - a point made plain in the Parable of the Sower.

There are many approaches to understanding this story. Some see us, God’s people, as the seed which has been sown. Some of us grow shallow roots that fail to sustain us in times of trouble. Some of us are distracted and choked by wealth and worry. Some of us grow in good soil and produce abundant fruit.

Then there are those who see us as the soil – footworn hardened paths that can’t receive a seed; or rocky ground too shallow to sustain life; or so crowded with fear and burdens that anything that takes root chokes and dies; or ground that is nourished, tended, and ready to receive seed.

All of those interpretations are fine with me, but the one that compels me today is the one that focuses on the sower as God. If the Sower is God, then God scatters the seeds of love extravagantly, freely, on hard, rocky, thorny, and fertile ground alike. If the sower is God, then the fruit of these seeds is relationship, recalling Jesus’ command to love God with all our heart, mind, strength, and soul, and love our neighbor as ourselves.

Theologian Dick Donovan spoke of this parable as, “a story of God's prodigality [because] (‘prodigal’ has to do with lavish or wasteful expenditure).” In God’s economy, there is no waste, and in God’s abundance, there is no end to the seeds of love to be scattered.

The fruit of the plants that grow, which is relationship, is valuable, for however long they live. Do we judge relationship with a baby who dies a wasted effort? Of course not!

When I was in seminary, one among us was diagnosed with cancer just months before we graduated. He walked with us but died a few months later. His bishop ordained him on his deathbed. When my friend asked why, the bishop responded: Some ministries are short, and some are long. I’m here to ordain those who are thus called by God.

What if we suspend our typical judgments of the soil and the plants before us and open our eyes to see and understand God’s purpose in them?

A young woman I know was born in rocky soil. Her parents were drug addicted and her family was the
picture of abusive dysfunction. This young woman left home as a young teenager hoping to find a better life. But she was unprepared. She had never learned the basic things so many of us take for granted, like how to read, how to brush her teeth, even how to use a chest of drawers to store clothes. She never learned or saw modeled how to earn money legally or how to be in a relationship that wasn’t abusive or exploitive.

But this young woman, as abrasive and repulsive in appearance and behavior as she was, is a child of God with a divine purpose. So is the homeless person begging at the street corner, or the addict panhandling on the sidewalks downtown, or the person obsessed with money, power, and prestige.

How, then, does a follower of Christ respond?

Well, for one thing, we don’t condemn. St. Paul writes “there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus,” which to me, means everyone, since Jesus, as the second person of the Trinity, is the one “through whom all things are made.” Who, then, can exist apart from him?

Each of us responds to God’s call to us according to God’s plan for us. God called me to be a priest, Jerre to be a deacon, and you to be a teacher, artist, musician, farmer, writer, or whatever!

The same goes for each church, each body of Christ in the world. Each church must continually discern its unique call from God and respond to that call.

So, whether person or church, we respond by setting our minds on the Spirit of God who dwells in us, and letting our weakness be the place God connects us one to another. This is the principle behind AA – alcoholics helping other alcoholics to find healing and wholeness.

This is also what connected me to the young woman I mentioned. I knew the abuse she lived because I had lived some of it too. This enabled us to connect in a real way and begin a journey of healing from which both of us benefitted.

When we connect with one another, weakness to weakness, the power of God’s healing love works through the faithful to transform death to life. Guaranteed.

Perhaps we might respond by sharing from the abundance of our riches, bringing our fertile soil, along with some water and fertilizer to their plot. Or maybe, with their permission, we pluck them up and transplant them somewhere in more fertile soil.

Not everyone is privileged to have been sown into fertile soil, but everyone is beloved of God and has a divine purpose. And the beauty of life in the Spirit is that everyone can be made whole, reconciled by the power of Jesus Christ and his glorious resurrection from the dead.

That is the Spirit who dwells in us, therefore, we are one means by which God accomplishes this in the world today. It is our responsibility as individuals and as the church, the body of Christ in the world, to know and own our weaknesses; to know and own our divine purpose.

We gather together each Sunday to worship God in community, to partake of holy food as God’s holy people, being made one body, one spirit in Christ. Together we discover how the unique gifts God has brought together in this community are meant to be used to bring God’s transforming love to all, but especially to those beloved ones sown in hard, rocky, or thorny soil.

We do this like God does it – extravagantly. Not only is ours a Prodigal God, but ours is a Prodigal Church. We sow the seeds of God’s love lavishly, even wastefully, trusting that there is no such thing as waste in God’s economy.

Let us pray. 

Creator of all, that is give us the courage to be like you: lavish, even wasteful sowers of your seeds of love in the world. Give us ears to hear and understand, and by your Spirit give us grace to see with your divine eyes, that we may recognize the goodness you proclaimed is in all you have created. You have chosen and empowered us by your Holy Spirit. May our fruit acknowledge the truth that we and all creation are in a continual process of sanctification and reconciliation within your abundant, steadfast, and everlasting love. In Jesus’ name we pray this. Amen.

4 Pentecost, 2023-A: Congruent with Jesus

Lectionary (Proper 7): Genesis 21:8-21; Psalm 86:1-10, 16-17; Romans 6:1b-11; Matthew 10:24-39 

En el nombre del Dios: que es Trinity en unidad. Amen. 

Many of you know I began my career as an artist. Artistic vision is so much a part of how I see the world, God, and life. Growing up, I loved making animated flipbooks. Remember those? Each page in the book had the same picture with a slight change that created movement as you flipped the pages.

When I hear our Collect for today, I imagine our request for perpetual love as a flip book of our lives – each page showing how we lived love into being and action, each page slightly different than the page before, creating a visual of the movement of love through the course of our life. What holds our pages together is the lovingkindness of God.

I believe that God is the source and structure of our love for one another, for ourselves, for the world, and even for God, and our readings today give us a few ways to understand that structure, as well as the character of God, so let’s take a look…

Our Genesis story of Abraham and Sarah shows us how God moves to restore love when it has been lost to human foibles. Abraham and Sarah, desperate for an heir, move outside of God’s plan for them. As a result, Sarah’s slave, Hagar, is sexually assaulted - taken against her will and impregnated by Abraham. The tradition that justified this was nothing less than acceptance of patriarchal oppression.

A modern-day depiction of the evil of this tradition is found in “The Handmaid’s Tale” by Margaret Atwood. In that story, the Handmaids of Gilead are impregnated against their will in order to provide children to the ruling class of men (Commanders). The barren wives of the Commanders then take the child as their own.

I can’t imagine anyone watching this series or reading the books being satisfied with the fairness or faithfulness of such a system. Neither can I imagine it being any different in Old Testament times. No matter how culturally or religiously justified, we know when systems are evil, oppressive, and wrong.

As often happens, one wrong leads to more wrongs. Power does that. After bearing Abraham’s son and only heir, Ishmael, Hagar recognizes her power and lords it over, Sarah, who is shamed and disgraced by her childlessness, until she bears a son, Isaac, and takes back her power. In her privilege, Sarah banishes Hagar and Ishmael to die in the wilderness.

Throughout this story, Abraham, the only character with any real power stands by impotently. Everyone in this story fails in the faithfulness category – except God – which is the point. God goes to Hagar and Ishmael in the wilderness, delivers them from the certain death of their bodies and souls, providing water and a promise to make of Ishmael a great nation. Like Sarah, Hagar also will be the matriarch of a great nation.

When we focus on our own desires, our power, our privilege, or when we stand by not acting to right an apparent wrong, we make a mess of things. Only God, whose loving-kindness is steadfast, is able to redeem us from the messes we make. In order, to do that, however, we must remember Paul’s wise words from the letter to the Romans: that we are dead to sin and alive in Christ Jesus. Our life is in him and nothing can separate us from this life-giving love for we are marked as Christ’s own forever by our Baptism.

In our gospel reading, Jesus is getting real with his followers. It always makes us uncomfortable when our soft, fluffy, loving Jesus reveals his sharper edges, but he does that here.

You may remember that last week, Jesus gave the disciples authority to proclaim that in the reign of God, which is overarching, all-embracing, and includes everything that is, heaven and earth have been joined into one divine, cosmic reality. The disciples were being sent out into this new reality to restore the helpless and harassed to wholeness of life, wholeness of spirit, and wholeness of purpose, in Jesus’ name. They were being sent as co-creators of God’s redemption for the world.

Today’s gospel story picks up with Jesus finishing this teaching. Every truth that humans have covered up and every evil we have justified will be uncovered, exposed, and ultimately redeemed by God’s love.

When Jesus says, I am come not to bring peace, but conflict, he’s making it clear that following him and his way won’t be easy. The keepers of the status quo will hate you and fight against you as their exploitive, oppressive systems are exposed. Even those closest to you. Your father, your mother, members of your church and community will become like enemies to you, but stand firm in your faith and fear not, for God is already acting to redeem.

Then Jesus offers the most beautiful assurance. You are so valuable to God, who knows you so intimately, that even the hairs on your heads are counted! Think about that: every single aspect of who we are, even those aspects we don’t know about ourselves, are known to God, who values us and cares for us, which is why we can stand firm on the foundation of God’s loving-kindness.

One would think that sharing the good news of God’s redeeming love would bring honor and praise, but if human systems are to be transformed, they must first be dismantled, and that rarely happens without a fight – even in the church. Those with power, wealth, and influence, those benefitting from the status quo don’t let go of it easily – even when it’s the right thing to do.

Human history shows us that it often takes violent conflict to bring about change. Think about the start of our own nation 250 years ago, the Civil Rights movement 60 years ago, or the LGBTQIA+ movement happening now. In the end, everyone benefits when human dignity and freedom are won. Everyone, even those who clung to the status quo with clenched fists.

Jesus concludes this teaching with a straightforward statement, once we get the translation clear. The word we translate as “worthy” is better translated as “congruent.” It’s a long-standing habit of the church to motivate us by undermining our sense of worthiness, and for that, I apologize on behalf of the church. Didn’t Jesus just finish clarifying our worthiness in his story about the sparrows?

We are worthy. The question is: are we congruent with Jesus? Are we in harmony with him?

Whoever seeks earthly sources of protection and community rather than finding those in Jesus, is not congruent with him. Whoever does not bear the burdens of the world with loving kindness and forgiveness, as he did from the cross, is not congruent with him. Anyone who seeks to direct their own lives apart from Jesus will find themselves in a mess of their own making. Anyone who loves in Jesus’ name despite the very real pushback the world will inflict upon them, will discover that Jesus is pleased to dwell in them and redeem them, and through them, the world.

Now that’s good news!

I’ve talked to many folks around here who are asking what’s taking God so long? Where is God in Ukraine? Where is God in the attacks against women and our LGBTQIA+ siblings? Being resourceful, we’re tempted to resolve these problems on our own, like Abraham and Sarah did. So, I’m here to tell you, whenever this temptation rises up, hear the wise words of my former spiritual director, Sr. Elizabeth: Don’t feed it. Don’t fight it. Don’t fix it. 

 God has promised redemption of the whole world in Jesus Christ. Trust that promise. When the inevitable conflict happens, we must continue to trust while God redeems even those fighting against us, for all are children of the one God who reconciles the whole world back into love.

We are congruent with Jesus when the flipbooks of our lives contain page after page of truth-telling in response to oppressive, harmful, exclusive systems in the world today; when our loving kindness is repeated so frequently as to seem seamless, uninterrupted when we watch it played back. There will be glitches in there – we are, after all, human. But God redeems those too because such is the character of God.

Let’s pray: Thank you, most gracious God, for the foundation of your loving kindness. We pray that we may be as reverent of one another and of you as you are of us. Give us grace to reflect your love and make it as real on earth as it is in heaven. We pray this in the name of the Trinity, who is Unity. Amen.

Trinity Sunday & Baptism, 2023-A: In the image of God

Lectionary: Genesis 1:1-2:4a; Canticle 2 (Rite I) and Canticle 13 (Rite II); 2 Corinthians 13:11-13; Matthew 28:16-20 

En el nombre del Dios que es Trinidad en unidad. Amen.

It’s a wonderfully complicated day today. We gather to celebrate the baptism of Maeve Nash, welcoming

her into the Christian family. It’s Trinity Sunday, the day we ponder the mystery of God who is Trinity in Unity. It’s #wearorgange Sunday, complete with a march at noon to end gun violence as we remember those who lost their lives to it. And it’s the first Sunday in PRIDE Month.

As only God can do, our lectionary today is perfect. We begin with the story of creation from Genesis 1. God created and created and created like a mad artist; each creation leading to another burst of creative love revealing yet another dimension of the nature and character of God.

The creation story culminates with God’s creation of humankind… “in the image of God” they were created, male and female. While all of creation is infused with the breath of God’s creative love, only humans are created in God’s own image, and more than that, we are given responsibility to care for the rest of creation.

Please don’t let the phrase “have dominion over” trip you up. It can and does mean rule over, but it also means “noble.” God made humans noble in relation to all other creation. To be noble is to have higher moral principles and ideals.

Dominion is not the same as dominance. Dominion is relational. Dominance is hierarchical. Dominion is other-centered. Dominance is self-centered.

God did not make us the most important or powerful among the created. They made us the most trusted. God chooses us to care for creation in the image of God who created, sustains, and blesses all of creation out of love.

While we’re at it, there are two more phrases in our gospel text to clarify. The first is: “Go, therefore, and make disciples.” We had a lively discussion about this at our Bible study this past week. It’s the word translated as “make” that has led to so much coercive action by churches that may or may not have been trying to do the right thing. The problem is the word isn’t “make” – it’s “teach” (literally). Teach others to be disciples.

That’s exactly what we are going to promise to do for Maeve as we baptize her. We’ll promise to teach her – as her community of faith – to be a disciple of Jesus.

The second is the word translated as “obey.” Baptize them, Jesus says, in the name of the Trinity, and teach them to obey everything that I have commanded you. The word “obey” has also led many in the church to focus on enforcing compliance with rules, which is sad, because what Jesus actually said here is better translated as “observe, keep, maintain.”

So, the question is, observe, keep, maintain what? What did Jesus command? The answer is simple and is becoming about the only thing in my sermons lately – Jesus commanded us to love.

Love God with all our hearts, minds, and souls. Love our neighbor as ourselves. Love one another as heloved us. Love our enemies. Love - in all its many, complicated forms. When we gather to worship and share Holy Communion, we reconnect ourselves to God and to one another, because answering Jesus’ command to love isn’t easy. In fact, it often seems impossible.

Every day we hear of another shooting somewhere in our country. Every day.

Gun violence is now the leading cause of death for our children. Our culture has politicized this so much that it’s become nearly impossible to have reasonable discussions about it – but we must, and church is where those difficult discussions have to happen, because church is where the love of God has dominion in our hearts.

Church is where the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ unites us into one body, one spirit. It’s where we recognize that the only true power is the power of God and that power is the power of love. Church is where we greet one another with a holy kiss – something only family did in St. Paul’s time.

We are the family of God in Christ in this time and place in the world. We baptize people and teach them how to love as Jesus commanded us to do, remembering that no matter how impossible or horrible the world seems at any moment of our experience, it is a beloved creation born of God’s love and it is our responsibility to care for it, to restore it to peace and unity, and to teach others to do the same.

I once served a church that held the first PRIDE event in that deep southern town – about 15 years ago. It was a picnic, a PRIDE picnic. We invited the local gay community as well as supportive groups like PFLAG to come and share information on how to be supportive allies. We grilled food, painted faces, and played games.

You can see why this was so threatening. Yet apparently it was. Protestors from Westboro Baptist Church and some other local church groups showed up to scream condemnation at us using foul language – in front of the children. Horrible words were graffitied onto our church doors and walls with black paint. They tried to disrupt our worship the next morning with a bullhorn screaming derogatory names and accusations at our faith community.

Is this how they interpret Jesus’ command to love? It didn’t feel a bit like love. It felt very much like hate.

Our LGBTQIA+ siblings in Christ are currently under attack. They are not being loved as Christ commanded, and tragically, it is most often by those who identify themselves as followers of Jesus, as holders of higher moral principles and ideals. They delude themselves.

We are witnesses of their terrorizing and dehumanizing of God’s beloved children, and as witnesses, we must call out what we see as hate, not love. We, the church, have a responsibility to love – and to teach others to do the same - in the name of God who created us all, in the name of Jesus who redeemed us all,and in the name of the Spirit who sanctifies us all.

Today, as we sacramentally welcome the newest member of the Christian family, we will also renew our own Baptismal vows – vows that call us to worship together, to seek Christ in ALL others, to love and respect their dignity as fellow nobles, all of us caring for God’s creation.

These are not vows we take lightly. They are our signposts, our guides on how to live as Christians, how to love as Christians in the world as it is.

It won’t be easy. Hate is strong, but love is stronger, and Jesus promised to be with us always – to the end of the “breathing of breath,” the end of human life. While we have life, we have Jesus; and having Jesus means having the wholeness of the Trinity.

Let us pray… Spirit of the Living God, who dwells in our noble human bodies, fill us to overflowing with your divine love, so that the world in which we stand is continually nourished by your living water. Open our hearts and minds, that we may keep your command to us to love. Give us courage to call out hate and restore relationship as we go, teach, and baptize in your name, that your peace may heal our troubled and broken world. Keep us connected to you and to one another, now and always. Amen.

Ascension, 2023-A: Shedding our spiritual training wheels

Lectionary: Acts 1:1-11; Psalm 47; Ephesians 1:15-23; Luke 24:44-53

Note: The sermon acutally delivered was a little different. It can be viewed on the Emmanuel Episcopal Church Webster Goves YouTube channel at 39 mins 20 seconds.

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

Today we are celebrating the Feast of the Ascension, which falls on the 40th day after Easter, and so it’s on a Thursday every year. We have transferred it to Sunday because it’s a principal feast, so it takes precedence over Sunday. It’s a principal feast because this is the moment Jesus hands over to the church the continuing ministry of reconciliation in His name.

Reflecting on how to live in this state of reconciliation, the author of the letter to the church in Ephesus: says “I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe…”

Let’s take those things one at a time… 

What is the hope to which Jesus has called us?  That there is no one, no thing, no event, no circumstance, that falls outside the reach of God’s redeeming love. That God’s plan has been fulfilled in Jesus the Christ, in whom we have been reconciled by the forgiveness of our sins. That every one of us will, at some point in our lives, be counted among those who are lost or gone astray, but because of our reconciliation to God in Jesus, no matter how lost we get, no matter how far we stray, we can never go beyond the reach of God’s redeeming love.

Our hope is grounded in the assurance that “nothing, not even death, shall separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (BCP, 862) I don’t know about you, but it’s a comfort for me to remember that even when I sin, I will not be cast out of the community of God’s love for it.

Nothing can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ. When we come into the presence of someone who doesn’t know that or has forgotten it, it’s up to us, as witnesses of Christ, to help them remember. When my kids were little our prayer before bed always ended with me saying, “There is nothing you could ever say or do that could make me stop loving you.” Imagine how joyful I was to learn recently that my daughter is saying the same thing to her children before bed! God’s love is like that – only better! …More faithful… More perfect… More merciful than any love we can offer.

Next question - What are the riches of God’s glorious inheritance among the saints? The “saints” are
all who believe. Think about how many people that is and how many riches they represent.

We have abundant riches right here at Emmanuel. In one person there is abounding generosity, in another – innocence and purity of heart, in another – a contagious joy. One brings poverty, another wealth. One is gay, another is straight, another trans or nonbinary. One is the teller of truths (even the hard ones), another is a source of gentleness and comfort. The gifts present among the body of Christ are brought together into a synergistic whole by God for the benefit of God’s people.

What is the purpose of these riches? To unite us one to another and to God – in love.

Finally, what is the immeasurable greatness of God’s power – and why is it just for us who believe? The funny thing about God is that God gives lavishly, without regard to what we deserve. The greatness of God’s power is love and it dwells in each of us, and in all of us as a faith community, but it will go unrecognized, unobserved until seen with the eyes of an enlightened heart.

The ability to see and understand in this way comes from God. As we heard in the gospel, Jesus opened the minds of the apostles to understand the scriptures so that they could go out and proclaim the Good News to all nations, all people.

The same is true for us. The eyes of our hearts are enlightened by Jesus. The spirit of wisdom and revelation in us is the Holy Spirit of God which dwells in us that we have been reconciled by the forgiveness of sin.

When Jesus ascended, and the apostles were standing there gazing up at the sky, the messengers from heaven asked them, ‘Men of Galilee, why do you stand there looking toward heaven?’ What you seek isn’t up there – it’s right here – in you.

To be fair, for the disciples, it wasn't yet, but it was about to be in them. Jesus told them to wait until they had been clothed with the power, that is, the love of God, from on high – which happened for them at that first Pentecost.

We, on the other hand, have already been clothed with this power. It happened for us at our Baptism. Some of us recommitted to it at our Confirmation. And all of us remember it each time we gather for Holy Eucharist.

Once upon a time, I visited a young church member named Lila at her home. This precious 4-year-old brought me outside to show me her new Princess bike. She showed me how she could ride it and how the training wheels would keep her from falling. She was quick to point out that she didn’t always need the training wheels – only sometimes - and one day, she wouldn’t need them at all.

I walked alongside Lila as she rode her Princess bike, leading me on a tour of the grounds of their home. She pointed out all the things I should notice as we went along, including her favorite purple flowers just coming into bloom.

As we journeyed together, the experience felt to me like an illustration of the path of Christian maturity. Lila knew she needed training wheels, not all the time, but sometimes. Lila also knew that one day she would learn to ride this Princess bike with no training wheels.

Walking alongside Lila and her Princess bike, I understood that if Jesus had not let us witness his ascension, we’d all still be riding around on our training wheels.

Jesus knew the disciples were ready. The disciples may not have realized it until they found themselves doing it – like when Peter shared his testimony with the household of Cornelius the Roman Centurion, or when he raised Dorcas from the dead in Joppa. Yes, Peter raised a woman from the dead!

Filled with excitement, fear, and confidence, the disciples went out and shared their Good News and amazing things happened. Now it’s our turn - and we're ready to shed our training wheels.

Let us pray: Give us grace, O God of love, to trust you. Give us confidence to pump our legs and ride out into your world, carrying your light in our eyes, your love in our hearts, and your gentleness in our actions. May our lives reflect the joy of being in relationship with you, and may our witness be one of justice, mercy, and peace toward all you created, in your Holy Name. Amen.

6 Easter, 2023-A: The wormhole of spiritual understanding

Lectionary: Lectionary: Acts 17:22-31; Psalm 66:7-18; 1 Peter 3:13-22; John 14:15-21

(Note: there is no pre-recorded video of this sermon since I was out of town at my father's funeral this week. The sermon can be watched on the Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Webster Groves YouTube channel)

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

Our gospel today is part of Jesus’ farewell discourse given at the Last Supper, and it begins with “If you love me you will keep my commandments.” He goes on to say that those, “ who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me; and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them.”

Is Jesus telling us that his love of us is conditional on our obedience? It sounds like it since it says, if this then that. But the word we translate as “if” isn’t a conditional in the original Greek. It’s a word that points to a future possibility that experience determines.

Also, this teaching has nothing to do with obedience. That’s a whole different word in Greek and it isn’t present here.

So, Jesus is saying: When you love me, you will discover that you will maintain and continue what I have commanded you to do. So the real question is: what did Jesus command us to do?

The answer is: love. Love one another as I have loved you. (Jn 13:34) Love your enemies. (Mt 5: 44) Love God with all your hearts, minds, strength, and souls (Deut 6:5), and love your neighbors as yourselves. (Lev 19:18) Love. 

Jesus is about to enter the most difficult moment of his human experience and the disciples are terrified and confused. They don’t understand what he is saying to them - again. But honestly, how could they? It sounds like riddles or circular logic: God is in Jesus, who is in us, and we are in him, and through him, we are in God… and because he lives we also will live.

Perceiving the fear and confusion among his disciples Jesus speaks directly to it saying to them (and to us), I will not leave you comfortless or alone. I am coming to you in another way - to comfort you and support you forever.

One day, he says, you’ll know the truth of this co-abiding with the Divine Spirit through me. It’s a truth that is beyond human logic, as much today as it was then, and can only be known by the experience of it again and again in our lives. Sometimes, it’s a series of light bulbs going off in sudden realization. Other times it’s a slow turn of the dimmer switch until, one day, the light comes on fully.

I remember about 3 weeks into our Greek class in seminary and we were all feeling so overwhelmed by how vastly different Greek was, from the alphabet to the layers of meanings, and the many conjugations and tenses. Our professor assured us that one day, we’d just get it, and he snapped his fingers.

Oh sure, we thought. Easy for him to say! But he was right. One day, it suddenly all fell into place and the learning began to happen at lightning speed like a wormhole had been opened.

That was Jesus’ promise. On that day, you’ll get it! You’ll know that “I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you.” When that happens, you will have spiritual understanding, and my commandments will be within you, and you will be able to preserve them for all time and continue to live in them now and always.

On that day, you will know union with divine love. You will know that you are cherished by God who will be eternally faithful and loyal to you, and I will be revealed to you in ways you couldn’t have understood before, and it will change everything!

Our beloved Dame Julian of Norwich speaks of this experience so simply yet eloquently. Here are her words: 

“I desired in many ways to know what was our Lord's meaning. And fifteen years after and more, I was answered in spiritual understanding, and it was said: What, do you wish to know your Lord's meaning in this thing? Know it well, love was his meaning. Who reveals it to you? Love. What did he reveal to you? Love. Why does he reveal it to you? For love. Remain in this, and you will know more of the same.” 

This is the love in which “we live and move and have our being” as Paul quoted from the poets of his time… the love who “holds our souls in life and will not allow our feet to slip” as the psalmist says. It all boils down to love: divine, eternal, sacrificial, joyful, mutual love.

This doesn’t change the fact that we will know suffering, doubt, and darkness throughout the course of our lives. In addition, we may get it, as Jesus said we would, then lose it again, and get it again, over and over throughout the course of our lives.

Knowing this love with spiritual understanding means that we will never be alone in any of the “changes and chances of this life.” (BCP, 133) We will never be comfortless. We will always be, as Dame Julian says, clothed in the love of God, which “wraps and holds us… enfolds us for love and will never let us go.”

We also have each other. Prayer not only “fastens us to God” as Julian says, it also fastens us to one another, connecting the love of God in you to the love of God in me, as it were. Those connections are real and through them God can change the world, working in and through us.

I pray this truth a lot because it was a life-changing revelation for me. I begin most of our Sunday services by inviting us to go deeply within, to our divine centers, where we acknowledge God’s connection to us and invite God to connect us to one another, making us all one as we celebrate our thanks together.

Since Julian of Norwich has been so present in this reflection on the Word, let’s close with the prayer assigned to her feast day, which was just last week: May 8. 

Let us pray: Lord God, who in your compassion granted to the Lady Julian many revelations of your nurturing and sustaining love: Move our hearts, like hers, to seek you above all things, for in giving us yourself you give us all; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Icon written by Anne Davidson, Diocese of Western Michigan. Used with permission.