Being CHURCH

Silence and Sunsets

2009-02-08T02:31:00.000-06:00

Silence.

It’s a word that stirs up many different and conflicting emotions when a person considers its effect.

For a preschool teacher after a long day of teaching three and four year olds, silence might be significantly attractive.

For an elderly widow, silence can be a haunting reminder of the fact that she is alone.

For a child suffering from frequent abuse, silence can be a toxic ingredient of his or her innocent life.

At the Troy Wesley Foundation, which is my “church away from church”, we are studying Revelation on Wednesday nights at our weekly worship service.

This past week in our study, we read in chapter eight about heaven being silent for half an hour.

I had to really think about and soak in that concept for a while.

Silence in heaven. What did that really mean? Can we even imagine what that must be like?

I’m pretty sure there’s no way we can possibly grasp true silence like the silence John of Patmos talks about in Revelation.

At the end of our study, we received a challenge for the coming week. We were to find two twenty minute periods of time throughout the week to be silent. Several people asked questions like…”Does that mean no computer?” “Does that mean just being quiet, or does it mean not listening to music or anything??” “Can I do yoga during my silent time?”

But the point was to spend the time doing absolutely nothing, and get as close to the heavenly silence we read about in Revelation. I have to be honest, at first I kind of balked at the idea of finding 40 minutes in my own hectic schedule to simply “sit and do nothing…” It’s very much against my nature to not be doing something! As a matter of fact, I was a little bit afraid of what being silent could mean for me. I love noise, both literally and figuratively. By being alone and quiet, I am forced to deal with things in my mind that the busyness of my life helps me be distracted from for the most part! Things like the stress of schoolwork and its toll on my life, both spiritually and mentally. Or perhaps I might be forced to focus on the strained relationship that I have with my sister.
Those are definitely things I’d rather “ostrich”, or stick my head in the sand and pretend don’t exist!
So, needless to say, we received quite the challenge. Especially in this technological society that is chock full of I-pods, televisions, computers, and radios.

I’m here to tell you, there’s not a whole lot of opportunity to find a quiet space in a college atmosphere! A person would have to be extremely deliberate about finding a place to be in “silence” around Troy, Alabama.

As I began to prepare for this sermon, I read about a man who went into a “soundproof” music room at his university to experience silence.

He said that when he entered the room, there was no noise, but that the longer he was in the room, he began to hear a high pitched noise which he attributed to his breathing, and another thumping noise which he recognized as the sound of his own heart beating. This man had gone to a place where he expected total silence, and yet he still heard sound.

In 1952, this same man by the name of John Cage composed a three movement composition entitled 4 minutes and 33 seconds. It was composed for any instrument (or combination of instruments), and the score instructs the performer not to play the instrument during the entire duration of the piece. Although commonly perceived as "four minutes thirty-three seconds of silence", the piece actually consists of the sounds of the environment that the listeners hear while it is performed.

I watched a video of a performance of this piece, and the orchestra sat there with their instruments in their laps, the conductor with his hands in the air, and the “music” that was heard was not actual notes being played by instruments, but instead the “music” was the occasional cough or sneeze in the audience, the flipping of the musicians pages, and the scraping of chairs along the floor as the musicians adjusted or fidgeted in their seats.
It was those sounds, unpredictable and unintentional, that were to be regarded as constituting the music in this piece.

From the text today, in verse 35, it says, “In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.”

My guess is that Jesus was seeking a little “silence”. Jesus knew the importance of finding a time that he could go and be alone in a deserted place where he could gather his thoughts and find a little time to just “chill” with his father, God.

As I drove home from Troy this weekend, I contemplated my task for the week to find silence and what it really means to find “silence” in this lifetime. I decided that this could be the perfect opportunity to be “silent” for me, because the closest I could come to silence while driving down the road was to turn off my radio and put my phone on vibrate. So I did just that. I felt kind of like a cheater, but I figured this was at least a baby step towards total silence. I have to be quite honest; it was one of the most awkward experiences of my life. I realized that I don’t even know how to turn my radio off completely, so I just turned the volume down enough that I couldn’t hear it.
As I drove, I caught myself constantly reaching for the volume knob on my radio and stopping myself midway when I remembered there was a reason I wasn’t hearing the music.

Slowly, on my trip home, something strange started to happen. The further I drove in “silence”, I, like John Cage, realized that the music was not the noise my radio perpetually emits, but that the music consists of the sounds of life that I rarely take the time to notice.

I began to hear every little noise my little Geo car made as it rattled and bumped along the road.

I began to look at houses and really notice them for the first time, after having driven by them hundreds and hundreds of times on my way to and from Troy.

I began to think about the people that live in those different houses and what they might be like.

I looked at the sunset that lay before me and embraced its beauty and grandeur.

I believe God made sunsets for everyone to enjoy, but I was particularly impressed with this one because of all the brilliant colors of pink it contained! Pink is my favorite color, and I was amazed at the vividness of the different shades of pink, orange, and purple this sunset had.

I knew at that moment that for me, silence was more than an absence of noise or talking, it was a state of being aware of the overwhelming presence of God.

As I gazed at the sunset and the trees that I passed and noticed the creatures along the side of the road I was sensitive to the incredible creativity of our Creator God.

As I continued to drive, I found myself feeling lost in the sense of community I was experiencing with nature and with God.

I imagine that feeling of intimacy with God was similar to what Jesus was seeking as he went out in the early morning hours to spend some time in prayer; I believe he was seeking an intentional state of being aware of God’s presence.

My question for us today is how often do we deliberately seek the opportunity in our busy lives to find a quiet moment to spend alone with God?

We have lots of “noise” in our lives with our families, our jobs, our friendships, and even our work with the church.

But I believe, by evidence of Jesus’ example to us in this text, that we are called to seek a little “silence” every once in a while to just “be”… in the presence of God.
What does it mean for us to simply be?

It means coming…baggage and all…straight to the presence of God and allowing God to envelop us in God’s presence to let us have an opportunity to “recharge” after a metaphorical “long day”.

I encourage you over the course of the next week or so to find some time to do that.

I challenge you to spend time enjoying and basking in the presence of the God that created you and me.

Whether that means turning your radio off, or turning the news off during your morning cup of coffee, or taking a long walk without your I-pod, I urge you to find some way to find God in your everyday, mundane “drive home”.

In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

the Gospel of the second chance, of a third chance, of the hundredth chance

2009-01-25T20:23:00.001-06:00

In Chapter one of Jonah, Jonah is instructed by God to go to Nineveh and tell them that God is displeased with their wickedness.

As most of us know, Jonah decides to do exactly the opposite of that, and instead buys a ticket on the first boat out of Joppa to get as far away from God’s directions as he can.

Why did he do that? Maybe he was afraid? Or it may have been for some more nationalistic reason. Nineveh was an important city in the Assyrian Empire, possibly its capital, and at the time of Jeroboam the second Israel was prospering and the only real threat was the Assyrian Empire.

Jonah may have thought that by not preaching to Nineveh, God would be forced to seek justice for Israel and destroy the city, thus lessening the Assyrian threat to his people.

Whatever Jonah’s reason was, he ran. But when a prophetic call comes to a person, it involves a commission which cannot be avoided.

As most of us know, Jonah was on a boat, which was caught in a very bad storm, and his shipmates threw him into the sea to calm the storm. Once Jonah was thrown overboard, he is swallowed up by a big fish. After spending several days in the belly of the fish, stubborn ole Jonah decides it might be a good time to seek God. Jonah prays to God and promises that if God will deliver him from the belly of the fish, Jonah in turn will do what God has asked him to do.

God responded to Jonah's prayer of repentance, and the Bible tells us that he was vomited up onto dry land. Jonah was delivered from the mouth of the fish, brought up out of the water in an almost baptismal-like experience. We aren't told exactly where Jonah was vomited up, but what we do know is that he started off in Jerusalem. Jerusalem is about 500 miles from Nineveh. That would be a substantial journey today, but when he would have been traveling on foot or on an animal it would have taken a very long time. Certainly weeks.

So, God tries again with Jonah. What a word of grace and challenge all rolled into one! "Then the word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time, 'Arise, go to Nineveh . . .'"

Were there ever any kinder words written anywhere? "And the word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time."

Notice that God never lets up and never gives up on Jonah. Grace and challenge, forgiveness and responsibility are intertwined.

Jonah gets the message, and he does as he is told this time. He sets out on the three day journey to Nineveh.
Wait a minute, three day journey? It's a bit closer than 500 miles away isn't it?
So even though he was trying to run from Nineveh, Jonah ended up closer to Nineveh than he had been when he started. God wanted Jonah to go to Nineveh, and when he resisted he ended up closer than when he started. God worked with the disobedient Jonah, and Jonah's call to preach in Nineveh was as much for Jonah's sake as for the people of Nineveh.

For the first time on his journey, Jonah is willingly on his way to Nineveh.
Jonah walked into the city as far as he could go in one day. Then he preached a five word sermon. Forty--days--more--Nineveh--destroyed.

Now, let’s take a look back at chapter one of Jonah and read again the message that God gave to Jonah to deliver to Nineveh. Chapter one, verse 2 says “Go at once to Nineveh, that great city, and cry out against it; for their wickedness has come up before me.”

I don’t read anything there about God destroying Nineveh in forty days if they didn’t repent from their wickedness…It sounds to me like Jonah took God’s words and twisted them around a little bit in his own wishful thinking.

Jonah had an incredible response to his preaching. The entire city repented. Everyone, including the King of Nineveh responded and a fast was declared. The king declared a fast across the land, which included every person and animal. No one could eat or drink, but they were to be covered in sackcloth and ordered to cry mightily unto God, and “…who knows? God may decide to spare them and let them not perish…”

But I'll tell you who knew...Jonah knew. Jonah knew that if God was merciful enough to give him, a sinner, a second chance, that God would indeed spare this sinful nation. Jonah knew that the God of his people, the God that had spared Israel on multiple occasions, was big enough, and gracious enough to spare even the city of his enemies…Nineveh.

On New Year's Day, 1929, Georgia Tech played the University of California in the Rose Bowl. During the first half of the game a player by the name of Roy Riegels recovered a fumble for California on his own thirty-five yard line. In evading some of the Georgia Tech tacklers, Riegels became confused. He started running sixty-five yards in the wrong direction. One of his teammates, Benny Lom, outran him and tackled him on the one yard line just before Riegels was about to score for Georgia Tech. Then, on the next play, when California attempted to punt out of its end zone, Tech blocked the kick and scored a safety, which was the ultimate margin of victory.
That strange play came near the end of the first half. Everyone watching the game was asking the same question: "What will coach Nibbs Price do with Roy Riegels in the second half?" The players filed off the field and trudged into the dressing room. They sat down on the benches and on the floor. All but Riegels. He pulled his blanket around his shoulders, and sat down in a corner, put his face in his hands, and wept like a baby.

A coach usually has a great deal to say to his team during half-time. That afternoon coach Price was quiet. No doubt he was trying to decide what to do with Riegels. Then the timekeeper came in and announced that there were three minutes before playing time. Coach Price looked at the team and said simply, "Men, the same team that started the first half will start the second."
The players got up and started out. All but Roy Riegels. He didn't budge. The coach looked back and called to him again. Still Riegels didn't move. Coach Price walked over to Riegels and said, "Roy, didn't you hear me? The same team that started the first half will start the second." Roy Riegels looked up and his cheeks were wet with tears.
"Coach," he said, "I can't do it. I've disgraced you. I've disgraced the University of California. I've disgraced myself. I couldn't face that crowd to save my life."
Then Coach Nibbs Price put his hand on Riegels shoulder and said, "Roy, get up and go on back. The game is only half over."
Roy Riegels did go back, and those Tech players testified that they had seldom seen a man play as Roy Riegels did in that second half.

When I read that story, deep inside I said, "What a coach!" When I read the stories of Peter and Jonah and the stories of a thousand men and women like them, I say, "What a God!"

We take the ball and we run in the wrong direction. We stumble and fall. We're so ashamed of ourselves that we never want to try again. And God comes and in the person of Jesus Christ puts a nail-printed hand on our shoulder and says, "Get up; go on back. The game is only half over."

That's the good news of the grace of God. That's the good news of the forgiveness of sins. That's the Gospel of the second chance, of a third chance, of the hundredth chance.

I’d like to challenge you with a quote from Rabbi David Saperstein:

“If God does not love everybody, then there can be no love for anybody. If God is not gracious toward all, there can be grace for none.”

Amen.

Hear this benediction:

Go, secure in the steadfast love of God
rejoicing in the call of Jesus Christ
strong in the power of the Holy Spirit.

Matthew 21:23-32

2008-09-28T16:57:00.000-05:00

so, today at 4 i preached this sermon at CHURCH. i figured i would post it. as a disclaimer, i'd like to mention that throughout the week i had a few ideas that i wanted to express in my sermon today (though thankfully i had not written it out) and many of those thoughts were in father jeff's sermon at st. mark's episcopal church. due to this, i shifted gears and wrote something rather different in regards to the text. i don't know if many would interpret it from this perspective, so be forewarned that it may seem a little strange.

----

After looking at today's gospel text, I think plenty of people have the tendency to use this to attack the chief priests and elders. While I think this exchange between them and Jesus does leave a sting, or maybe warrants someone saying "BURN" at the end of it, we have to remember that in reading it, we should humble ourselves so as not to believe we are above the chief priests and elders in our understanding of God. (Note: "Burn" in the "you just got told" way, not as a way of saying "burn in hell." The inflection of my voice made this obvious, but to a reader, it may not be.)

Jesus asks the chief priests and elders a stumper, a question that leaves them arguing for an answer. The question Jesus asks is, "Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?" They argue, noting, "If we say 'from heaven' he will say to us, 'why then did you not believe him?' but if we say 'of human origin' we are afraid of the crowd; for they all regard John as a prophet." So, they answered Jesus, "We do not know."

This exchange is important. When put in a tricky situation, the chief priests and elders don't want to be wrong, so they argue. They try their best to come up with an answer that proves everyone wrong and themselves right, but see flaws in all of their arguments. Finally, in what had to be incredibly humbling to the chief priests and elders, they answer: "We do not know."

I think we can learn a lot from the chief priests and elders, a lesson in reminding us of how we often handle problems ourselves. We disagree with other people in the Body of Christ and so we argue. We try to come up with a way to be right, and prove others wrong. Sometimes we find flaws in our arguments, so maybe we proof-text to make our opinions more "right." Or, maybe we want to say something, but are afraid of the crowd. Maybe the crowd regards one view correctly, so in fear, we hold our tongue. We may even hold our tongue when it comes to something serious. Maybe when we have the opportunity to fight against social injustice, we look to the crowd and see that they have a different agenda. So we stay silent.

But then, we have to come to one realization. After all of our banter, our arguing, our searching, and our fighting for our huge desire to be right, one thing hits us -- "We do not know." We have to say it. We do not know. There are plenty of times we are asked spiritual questions that are a mystery. We even proclaim and celebrate the mystery of faith. Why then to we often push mystery away in search of answers? We seek to be above others in our understanding of things, creating our own sort of intellectual hierarchy. I believe we are all guilty of that.

Though it probably isn't the most preached message on this text, I would encourage you to think of how often you are a chief priest or elder. I've certainly relaized how often I play that role and arrogantly put myself into theological exchanges that I pray result in me being right and my adversary being wrong. It is a sad state that humanity is in, with it's dislike for humility. It was present in the attitudes of the chief priests and elders, and still exists today in myself and others.

And how does Jesus respond to this attitude? He reminds us that the tax collectors and prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of those with that attitude. Maybe we are not rewarded for the theological debates we win, but the times in which we humble ourselves before God and finally, and plainly say, "We do not know."

Matthew 20.1-16

2008-09-21T17:47:00.002-05:00

The Rev. Ashley Davis
Pentecost 19+, A
21 September 2008
Matthew 20.1-16

Ok kids, its story time with Jesus again. Not those nice little stories your parents told you before bed. Nope these are parables, they all have some deeply disturbing element to them. I mean they aren’t like camp fire stories that scare the crap out of you. But…they all make you think really hard about yourself and about God with the hopes of turning the world upside-down, but they don’t always illustrate some “logical” point. Maybe that’s why Jesus is my homeboy, screw logic.

So…our parable starts out with a nice simile…the kingdom of heaven is like a land owner. The kingdom of heaven here does not mean “going to heaven.” The kingdom of heaven is the kingdom of God. We see, as in many other place in Matthew, a head on collision of collider proportion with God’s world and our world, and a time to chose which world you live in here and now. So again, the kingdom of heaven is compared to a landowner. How the heck do you compare a sort of place or kind of living with a person?

Moving on, this landowner goes out early in the morning in the traditional way to find workers for the vineyard. He selects a few of the best looking workers. We would assume the strongest looking people with the most experience and skills. They make an oral agreement to work for him for a days wage or a denarius. This denarius a day would barely sustain a family. The landowner goes out again at 9 o’clock and gets more workers. He says simply that he will pay them, “whatever is right.” The question what is right is raised, but no answer is given. Amazingly, they trust his sense of justice and work for him without really knowing what they will get paid. This all happened again at 12 and 3 and 5. In the closing scenes, all the middle groups mysteriously vanish, and we are left to deal with only the first and the last. The foremen is told to pay the last ones first and then pay the rest. Apparently, it was intended that those chosen first would see what the others were paid? Of course, those who were hired first assume that fairness demands that they will receive more.

To Jesus’s original audience, as this scene began they could definitely identify with what was going on. Jesus didn’t say the kingdom of heaven is like a meeting of the Sanhedrin, he said the kingdom of heaven is like something that takes place every day as people try to get paid for working in a grape field. Everywhere people looked, there were freaking grape fields, not that I was there. He had them hooked, but as the story went on I am assuming his original audience became disconcerted. Why did the rich landowner go out again and again to the market place? Some translations call this guy a farmer. I don’t care what the Greek says, he is not a farmer, no farmer spends that much time not at the farm. He’s more add than sams with a paint brush. He isn’t picking anything but people. Why didn’t he send his manager to the market place? Why didn’t he get enough workers in the first couple of trips? The people who slept in still got a full days pay. I thought the early bird got the worm. The original audience had to have been outraged alongside those picked first, they too would have seen that equal pay for equal work was only fair.

What do we do with all this? How can we relate to this story? For some of us who stood by day workers in Gaithersburg, Maryland, as they tried to find jobs to feed their families, there is a definitely way in which we can relate to this story. Maybe you think back to playing kickball in school (ok I know I’m really old) and being chosen for teams. For any job or graduate school, we all stand in metaphorical lines waiting to be chosen. While some of us have had the experience of being around most of the day without being chosen, many more people in this room have been chosen first most of their lives. Whether it is because we have good genes, come from the right family, look the part, whatever. We can relate to wanting things to be fair too. We are taught from a very young age to play fair.

Will Willimon, bishop of the North Alabama conference, retold this parable in a way similar to this that maybe you all will be able to relate to even more. Let’s say each of you is in a difficult math class, but the teacher says she wants all of you to receive an a and your are like ha. You are given a particularly hard problem that you are supposed to work on all semester for you final grade. Half way through the semester, a few students, have been working this whole time pretty diligently on the problem. In saga one day, another student in the class walks up to you and says hey do you have that question I need to start on it. You are like, omg, I’ve been working on that for like two months now he will never make it. You give him the question anyway and are like good luck. You continue to work through the rest of the semester. The night before the test, another classmate calls you and asks for the questions, you just laugh at this poor girl and give her the question anyway. The next day you turn in your problem, and the teacher says great job, you get an a. You wait around to see what happens, the person who started in the middle of the semester gets an a too and then thanks the teacher for all the times she stayed after class to help him. The person who called you the night before the test comes up, and to your surprise gets an a as well and apologizes to the teacher for her roommate cursing her out in the middle of the night when she showed up at the dorm because they had never had a teacher come to their dorm room before to help with homework. Of course you are enraged, and tell the teacher that isn’t fair, I didn’t get any help. She says I told you I wanted everyone to get a’s, you didn’t need the help.

So now that you can relate, what are you supposed to get out of the enigma?

The Kingdom of heaven is like a landowner…If it can possible be and it must be Jesus says so, then the kingdom of heaven must be about bringing everyone into the vineyard. I know you are shocked but this parable is about inclusivity. Everyone gets to come in. Those who get up early and work hard, those who party hard and sleep through the alarm clock, those who seem to have no skills, who others would call lazy when maybe it is just that no one has hired them, who are still hanging around at 5 o’clock smoking cigarettes they can’t afford only because they don’t want to go home to explain to their significant other that they didn’t get work again today. The kingdom of heaven is a place where everyone is given what they need, not what they want, not what they think is fair in comparison to the person beside them, but what they need.

We talk a lot about helping to bring in the kingdom of heaven. We talk a lot about inclusivity. We still have a ways to go. We ought to be out of this building so much seeking other people to bring into the kingdom that people don’t think we are members of the Wesley at all. In bringing in the kingdom, we have to work to alleviate the needs of those in our community. Sure we attempt to build wheelchair ramps, but there are people right here among us who have needs that we have not ministered to. Some need a kind word, a hug, or just someone to listen to them.

So that we don’t get too down on ourselves, we are not God, we are merely participants in helping to bring about God’s kingdom. In the end, it really makes the most sense to see this landowner as God. This picture of God is one of a very hands on God, not sending someone else out, but God going out to find us. Each and everyone one of us (I mean there is still free will, some could have not come to the market place, some could have gone home). God is merciful and full of grace, making sure that each of us have not what we deserve but what we need.

Often times we are the first chosen, we work long and hard, and are resentful of the grace given to those who have not worked as hard as us. Was our being chosen first fair in the first place? Wasn’t there grace in that? More times than not we need to realize that we are all really more like the last chosen stragglers. We don’t really have the skills or the body type that people are looking for, maybe we have a ridiculous amount of hope. Or maybe we are just hanging out for all the wrong reasons. God still chooses us to be workers and sees to our daily needs.

The story of the good employer gives us a good picture of the resentment of grace given to others by those who have worked long and hard themselves. We need to begin to realize that our whole lives are a gracious gift from God. Our work is our thankful response to our creator’s wonderful love. It is our sideways competitive glance that is killing us. We reject grace as we try to justify ourselves. Let us remember God’s gracious acts in this time of communion and beyond. With thankful hearts let us work for God’s kingdom, making sure that all are without need. Amen.

Matthew 18.21-35

2008-09-15T10:15:00.002-05:00

Anna Tew
Pentecost 18+, A
14 September 2008
Matthew 18.21-35

Apparently, we are supposed to forgive each other.

It often seems to me that we are vindictive from childhood. Now, I want to say that it is a learned behavior to always want retribution. When I was a child, for example, I’d often complain to my dad that my brother hit me, and the response would come quickly: “Well, don’t be a wuss, hit him back.” Still, these behaviors are not always learned in children either. I doubt that most of us were taught to hit the other children on the playground back, or to go and tattle immediately when someone stole our cookie. It seems almost inherent in us: we want justice when we are wronged.

As some of you know, I did my senior thesis last year on the subject of hell. Now, whatever your theological opinions on the reality (or nonreality) of hell, I found that most peoples throughout history started with a view of the afterlife that did not include punishments for the wicked or rewards for the good. Remember the Disney cartoon, Hercules? In that cartoon there is a depiction of Hades’ underworld realm. Everyone goes there – good and bad alike – to spin in a little pool of souls. The Hebrew sheol, or grave, is much the same way. Everyone goes there when they die. After awhile, however, views of the afterlife begin to change. People can’t seem to take the notion that everyone will end up in the same place, especially when bad people on earth are not always punished. So, slowly, our philosophies about what happens after death evolve to form punishments and rewards.

In short, we want justice. People need to learn a lesson or two.

I’m kind of the same way. I mean, I don’t really want people to go to hell in any sense. But I can be pretty vindictive. I spend most mornings in Atlanta on a shuttle that runs from North Dekalb mall, near my apartment, to Emory University, where I attend seminary. There are mornings when it’s far far too early and I have a headache for whatever reason and my hair is doing all kinds of fun things and I’m being bounced mercilessly around this bus, trying to keep my coffee from spilling because if it spills I will surely die. Inevitably, there is some person standing close to me who is either, A) being really loud, B) has a huge bag and is hitting me with it, C) is stepping on my toes, or D) all of the above. And I’m usually sitting there trying to find a way to shove them out at the next stop without anyone noticing that they did not want to get off there.

Yes. There are times when we will get highly irritated with people, both those we know and those we don’t know. Sometimes, your roommate will have loud people over really late at night when you have a test the next day. Sometimes people will step on my toes on the bus. Sometimes the campus police will deem it necessary to block off a pretty important road on game day and create a huge… mess … that you have to help clean up. You want to go off on somebody. We want to yell at the next cop we see. I want to shove people off buses. You want to put ex-lax in your roommate’s soup when she leaves it on the stove.

And you know, it’s not all that hard to control most of those urges. You might speak your mind, but you’re not actually going to alter the chemical makeup of anyone’s soup so that it will have adverse effects on his or her digestive tract.

Sometimes offenses are more serious. Sometimes you are hurt, betrayed, or manipulated emotionally. Sometimes it’s a combination of all of those things. There are times when someone you trusted – a friend, a romantic partner, a parent – causes you immense pain that it takes years to erase. And it is perfectly natural to react in a number of ways. It’s natural to go through a cycle of reactions. Sometimes you’re just broken. Other times you deny that it happened. And sometimes you’re incredibly angry and you want justice.

But Jesus is smarter than that. Jesus has a better way.

Jesus knows that revenge only causes more pain. Jesus knows that to carry a grudge is to always be hurt. Jesus knows that you can give more to your immediate community and to the world if you can just let go.

And you know, Jesus also knows about your debt. It seems that Jesus knows that forgiveness is a difficult issue for us. So he breaks it down. He tells a story. In the story, there is a servant who owes a lot of money. Okay, a lot is an understatement. Basically, dude has borrowed money from his master for something like a few fleets of BMWs. Or twenty or so large condos in Los Angeles. Or both. I mean, Jesus uses an outrageous amount of money. Anyway, his master is ready to do away with the guy and sell him and his family into slavery because there is no way any of them is going to live long enough to see this debt paid off. But the servant begs and pleads with his master. Give me time! I’ll pay everything. Now, the master knows that that is impossible. But Jesus says that the master took pity on him. He lets him go. Jesus simply says that he canceled the debt.

Now, I’m going to use my supreme sense of allegory to say that this first servant is, you know, us. None of us can even begin to pay back God for all that God has done for us. Nor can we make it up to God for all the stupid things we’ve done in God’s sight. Nor can we do enough to make up for everything left undone because of opportunities we’ve lost. Jesus knows that. But he canceled the debt.

In the same way, we’ve all been forgiven by people for doing dumb things. We’ve hurt and betrayed and manipulated people, too. But many of those debts have also been canceled. So the good news about this forgiveness thing is that it’s a two way street. Jesus didn’t simply say “forgive” without reminding us that we too have been forgiven. Jesus says to forgive because we’ve been forgiven.

On Tuesday, I attended chapel at Candler, and the man who preached on this text there brought up an important point besides these obvious ones that I have mentioned. What are we supposed to tell those people in our churches and communities who are repeatedly hurt by someone? What re you supposed to tell the child that is repeatedly sexually abused by a family member? What are you to tell the guy or girl in your class who keeps going back to an emotionally manipulative romantic partner? What are you supposed to tell the battered spouse to do about his or her abusive partner? What do you tell those who are constantly asked to give more and more pain? Simply to forgive as you have been forgiven?

This is where the “extras” in Jesus’ story come in. After the servant had been forgiven his great debt, he later sees another servant and violently demands that he be repaid a few dollars. He has him thrown in prison. This is where, Jesus says, the community responds. He says, “When the other servants saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed and told their master everything…” This is where, when someone or some institution creates such an injustice to another person or group, it is the responsibility of the community to stand up and say NO. Whether it is a battered spouse, an abused child, those who are pushed off the city streets with nowhere else to go, or an entire group of people who has been labeled in a certain way and pronounced unordainable, it is the church’s responsibility to see injustices and to do something about them. We must act in a way that makes it possible to live in a community where everyone is loved, accepted, and forgiven.

We, apparently, are to love and forgive each other. We are also to act in such a way that facilitates a community of forgiveness and love and acceptance. We are to forgive petty offenses. We are to forgive huge hurts. We are to accept forgiveness. And we are also to know when it is time to stand up and say NO to injustices done to our brothers and sisters. And we are always to remember, first – that our debt has been canceled

Amen.

Hear what the Spirit is saying to God's people.

2008-09-10T10:21:00.003-05:00

Borrowed from Susan Russell

Check out the lesson from Romans appointed (in the RCL) for this coming Sunday ... here from The Message.

Romans 14:1-12

Welcome with open arms fellow believers who don't see things the way you do. And don't jump all over them every time they do or say something you don't agree with—even when it seems that they are strong on opinions but weak in the faith department. Remember, they have their own history to deal with. Treat them gently.

For instance, a person who has been around for a while might well be convinced that he can eat anything on the table, while another, with a different background, might assume he should only be a vegetarian and eat accordingly. But since both are guests at Christ's table, wouldn't it be terribly rude if they fell to criticizing what the other ate or didn't eat? God, after all, invited them both to the table. Do you have any business crossing people off the guest list or interfering with God's welcome? If there are corrections to be made or manners to be learned, God can handle that without your help.
Or, say, one person thinks that some days should be set aside as holy and another thinks that each day is pretty much like any other. There are good reasons either way. So, each person is free to follow the convictions of conscience.
What's important in all this is that if you keep a holy day, keep it for God's sake; if you eat meat, eat it to the glory of God and thank God for prime rib; if you're a vegetarian, eat vegetables to the glory of God and thank God for broccoli. None of us are permitted to insist on our own way in these matters. It's God we are answerable to—all the way from life to death and everything in between—not each other. That's why Jesus lived and died and then lived again: so that he could be our Master across the entire range of life and death, and free us from the petty tyrannies of each other.
So where does that leave you when you criticize a brother? And where does that leave you when you condescend to a sister? I'd say it leaves you looking pretty silly—or worse. Eventually, we're all going to end up kneeling side by side in the place of judgment, facing God. Your critical and condescending ways aren't going to improve your position there one bit. Read it for yourself in Scripture:
"As I live and breathe," God says,
"every knee will bow before me;
Every tongue will tell the honest truth
that I and only I am God."
So tend to your knitting. You've got your hands full just taking care of your own life before God.

This is the Word of God for the People of God.Thanks be to God

7 September 2008

2008-09-07T17:00:00.000-05:00

Joseph P. Mathews, OSL
Pentecost 17+, A
7 September 2008
Mt. 18.15-20 (Rom. 13.8-14)

In the name of the God in whom we live, and move, and have our being. Amen.

Many of you are familiar with the button that I usually wear on my shirts and jackets on the right side. It says, “Peace is the church’s business” with a peace cross under it. While I’m not wearing it today – it seems to have been misplaced in the shuffle of wedding clothing and location changes with my wallet – I did have it on Friday afternoon at my brother’s wedding rehearsal. My cousin Seth, after I explained my reasons for wearing it said jokingly that he was offended. My simple response was that the Gospel is offensive.

And, beloved, within our context of this gathered community I think that there are some things in this Gospel text that are offensive to some hears, or might be if applied directly as Jesus speaks to those around him then and now. I considered talking about this passage as a series of three points the way my mother expects all good sermons to be constructed, but upon furthered and continued reflection I know that those are not words that are to be spoken today, although I really wrestled with exactly what those words were.

In our Gospel text today, Jesus gives us a three-point plan for handling disagreements in the community known as church. Hear my phrasing there again while think about the horrid song “We Are the Church”: Jesus gives us a three-point plan for handling disagreements in the community known as church. This emphasis on community – and not individuality – is hammered home by the conclusion of the Gospel text today, “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”

The post-resurrection writer of this Gospel ascribed to St. Matthew would have known about the various and sundry issues causing strife in the Matthian church – the church over which Matthew would’ve been leader. This manual for maintaining community standards was a way to keep the people of the community in harmony, and in addition to the levels of trying to reprove a sibling, these three steps dealt with the seriousness of issues – major schism making offenses would’ve almost certainly wound up before the whole of the community.

This is instructions for, in plainest terms, church discipline – the maintenance of community standards for the good of the Church, and it doesn’t end very nicely, “If the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.” Matthew – the most Jewish of the Gospels – uses this language to say that when someone is in clear violation of the will, standards, and principles of the community the church community is to wash their hands and kick the dust of their feet. It’s harsh words that are meant to be harsh: the Church hearing this originally was young and schism was breaking various churches apart from the moment of the resurrection. The only way to preserve this new group of Jews and Gentiles following Jesus as Messiah was to keep the community together without personal petty conflicts – or heretical, schismatic ideas – was to have a form of discipline and way to expel people from the body.

It is important to note, however, that it’s not a single member that calls for the expulsion of a member or two members or three members from the body. Before that step was taken, an individual, two additional individuals, and finally the whole church community must have first spoken to them. Before moving to the end of this text, I implore you not to hear that God is a vending machine whose buttons can be pressed if two people (or more) are pushing them. This requirement of more people is part and parcel of what is really the crux of this text: community. Jesus again underscores that in the conclusion of this selection from the Gospel, “For where two or tree are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” Christ – and the early church mothers and fathers – didn’t intend for Christianity to be practiced in solitude. Full stop. Whether someone “believes in organized religion” or not, being together with others for the work and worship of Christ is part of this religion, and in the first century, it took the will of the community – bound together in tension of being human beings trying to do their best in the world – to expel members.

The New Revised Standard Version is what talks about treating those who will not bend to the will of the Church as “gentiles and tax collectors,” two groups that the thoroughly Jewish Matthian church would’ve despised in the first century. Despite it’s taking great liberties with the original text – by great I mean ignoring in favor of something more Easter friendly – I really prefer how The Message puts that verse: “If [that person] won’t listen, you’ll have to start over from scratch, confront [him or her] with the need for repentance, and offer God’s forgiving love.” Those two versions offer drastically different statements, but I think that while doing violence to the Greek The Message does not do violence to the meta-narrative of God’s relating God’s love to God’s creation.

Perhaps the gurus of the lectionary knew the abuses or failures of this three-tiered program of church disciplined applied out of its original historical context when they chose our Romans text for this selection from the Gospel. Hear again the words from Romans, “Owe no one anything, except to love one another for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law. The commandments…are summed up in this word, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.

We aren’t to be in community looking for reasons to expel people. Although this three-tiered system of church discipline was intended for use in the 1st C, it might well have some relevance as a system of governance now. If there is an issue with someone, maybe the person offended should take it up with that person. If there is no gain, maybe it should be taken to two others – here is the catch though: If two other stout brothers or sisters in the communal faith of Christianity won’t approach the person who has done “wrong,” the person who feels offended should let it go. Same for if two neutral people go with and the community as a whole doesn’t address it. Rather than continuing on with complaining or being passive aggressive or threatening to not boycott, the person who feels offended should take a deep breath and think…

Following the rabbi from Nazareth requires a tension in loving community. The nature of the religion requires community, despite whatever individualism Protestantism and Americanism have instilled into our beings. At the ultimate head of that community, though is that rabbi we’re all following. Crediumus in unum Dominum Jesum Christum – we believe in one Lord Jesus Christ, who is present with us when we – a group – gather in community. When we learn to acknowledge this belief in the Lordship of Christ for what it is we may more easily “start over from scratch, confront [him or her] with the need for repentance, and offer God’s forgiving love.”

Being in community requires putting ourselves aside – and our passions and factions aside. Hear the words we’ll be singing in just a few minutes but think about them in their relationship to being in community the Gospel requires and living in love as Saint Paul directs, “I come with Chistians far and near to find, as all are fed, the new community of love in Christ’s communion bread. As Christ breaks bread and bids us share, each proud division ends. The love that made us makes us one, and strangers now are friends…Together met, together bound, we’ll go our different ways, and as his people in the world, we’ll live and speak his praise.”

As we gather around this table – we practice an act of community in sharing a meal together. As we gather around this Altar we affirm our belief in Christ as Lord, who breaks bread with us and causes proud divisions to end. As we gather around this table we meet with one another to share in this feast. When we leave from this table, though, we remain bound, tied inexplicably with the entire body of the baptized. Whether we like them or not, we have to live in a community of love with them…or at least try. And as we go our separate ways – with those we like and don’t – we must do the work and the worship of the Holy and Triune God.

One who has ears – especially this preacher – let him or her hear. Amen.

this i believe.

2008-09-01T01:14:00.001-05:00

i believe in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
i believe God loves those who are created by God unconditionally.
i believe that all are given the opportunity to be adopted into righteousness.
i believe in an all inclusive Church.

i am a heterosexual gay rights activist.
i am not ashamed of that.

i will love unconditionally, in the Christ-like agape way.
i will fight for justice on behalf of those who are oppressed.
i will embrace the notion that ALL means ALL.
i will extend my love past those that are like me.
i will love all races, genders, and sexualities.
i will not oppress those that are the "other."
i will not use the Bible to do violence to others.
i will love the unloved.
i will do everything in my power to do the work of the First and Second commandments.

... with God's help.

i have the tendency to fail.
i have the ability to pick myself up and fight again.

if i am silent when someone needs to speak,
if i sit down when i need to stand up,
if i am fearful when i need to be courageous --

forgive me, Lord.

this i believe.

--erin jean warde.

Sermon

2008-08-21T09:48:00.002-05:00

Check out this sermon that I heard my one day at home after CTD. I thought it was appropriate to conversations I'd been having with Wesley people earlier in the week.

St. Stephen's Episcopal Church

Embracing Powers Higher Than Ourselves

2008-08-20T16:34:00.001-05:00

Embracing Powers Higher Than Ourselves

I look forward to this year more than any previous. Certainly, I am excited about graduation from college and all that that entails, but there is more held within this calendar year than whatever I have in my planner. And believe me, I have that planner with all the pockets, and sticky notes attached to it. Yes, I’m that girl. Apparently there was a sermon about not putting too much on your plate in college, and I slept through it. Furthermore, I must have missed the sermon that told me not to worry about things so much that you have ulcers, not to stay up until 3 am playing board games when you have a test the next day, and DEFINITELY not to go to Panama City Beach and back that same night the day before having your FIRST final ever in college. In retrospect, I probably should have slept less and listened more. As a graduating senior in college, I have been for AT LEAST three years trying to figure out who I am, not only as a person but as a person moving towards perfection in Christ.

Yes, for this calendar year I have planned a trip to Washington, DC.. a trip to New York City.. and a trip to Juarez, Mexico. Within these trips, in New York City I will visit potential grad schools that may shape me theologically in the coming years, as well as learn more about the health care crisis at forums in Washington, DC. I will even help build homes in Juarez, Mexico. OH, and how could I forget, I will probably spend entirely too much money on clothing in New York City as I’ve heard they have more than just a GAP and Target, try to stay alive in Washington DC, and avoid anything water based in Mexico. Yes, I believe these excursions will be life changing and full of experience that will season my faith with a deeper understanding of how people work, and how I work. Yes, I believe that through these experiences and all others I will learn how to better serve God and do the work of the Church. But, I see a bigger picture unfolding just the same.

As Christians we consistently ask, or should consistently ask, “how am I to do something that revolutionizes society through faith?” I believe we can accomplish this through embracing powers higher than ourselves. I believe we can accomplish this through attitudes seasoned with humility (and equally with reason) that touch and transform the conversations we have, the people we love, and the world we inhabit. To have an attitude seasoned with humility and reason we must cling to community, ever holding fast to those to the left and right of us, in front of us and behind us. Throwing aside differences and likenesses, we must realize how important we are to one other. We must be unafraid to love, and to love without prejudice, so that we may embody humility, and with that, leave an indelible mark on the world around us. After all, we are called to be Jesus in the world today, are we not?

Of course, with everything said on the topic of faith I say this -- easier said than done. And that is why we have the Church. That is why you have your community. That is why you can look around the room and see others listening, reading, marking, learning, and inwardly digesting beside you. We have the Church so that when what is said is easy, and what is being done is lacking, we have the encouragement to push through and have lives worthy of our calling. In this, we have lives that move towards perfection in such a way that leaves a trail, allowing others to revolutionize the world we have loved ourselves.

So, what advice do I give you? Listen. Sleep through nothing. With the people around you, the potential exists for change that is beyond what you can imagine, so listen to what they have to say. In community, we are given the opportunity to view the world through a new perspective, a bright new lens that could easily change the world we know through acts of compassion and humility. This brings me to my next piece of advice. LOVE. Love in such a way that is beautifully unafraid. Setting aside differences, live out the first and second commandments – Love God and Love People. If God is love, what reason could there possibly be to not do so? In listening to community and loving all that breathes, the work of the Church is being done. In doing these things, we are able to find our identity in the light of the great I AM.

What it means to be a Christian AND a teenager

2008-08-19T22:18:00.004-05:00

If you were to pick up a dictionary and needed to define the word success...here are a couple definitions you might find:

a favorable result.
the attainment of wealth, favor, eminence, or power.

That's what success is, but what does it really mean to be successful?

One might say that a successful person is someone that sets a lot of goals and continually achieves them.

If a person is considered successful, that person is probably at the top of their career.

Right now, one person that comes to my mind is a name that we have all heard a lot lately...Michael Phelps. Most of us would consider Michael Phelps a success. He has worked very, very hard to become one of the best athletes of our time. He is an incredible swimmer, and I doubt anyone would deny that he is a successful competitor.

At this point in your lives, you probably haven't narrowed down exactly what you want to do or be "when you grow up". However, if you land at the top of your career and you are rich and look totally fabulous...will you be successful?

According to BARNA research online:

51% of Christians and 54% of non-Christians believe that money is the main symbol of success in life.
19% of Christians and 20% of non-Christians feel that you can tell how successful someone is by what they own.

It is important for us to understand that God measures success far differently than the world measures success. God doesn't look at how many magazine covers a person is on, or how much money a person brings home from commercial endorsements. God doesn't care what kind of car a person drives, how big their house is, or even if they own a platinum credit card with no spending limit! All the money, power, and fame in the world don't impress God in the least.

So how does God define success?

God's measure of success is really quite simple: FAITH=SUCCESS. When we look back on our lives, do we see faith (that we have trusted and had confidence in God) in our actions, or do we only see fear and doubt? God loves to see faith in people. God is pleased with faith, and God rewards faith.

God has called each and every person here to a deep, committed relationship with Jesus. The cool thing is, God equips us all with very unique gifts, and each one of us is created in God's image.

Being a success in God's eyes means acknowledging God's presence in our everyday lives. Being a Christian becomes a part of who you are and your own identity in Christ. It's about learning to love others and choosing to serve God in every moment.

You all have a choice. When you're sitting at the lunch table and your friends are all laughing at a crude joke that is either hurtful or demeaning to someone else...you have a choice. You can sit there and play along by laughing, even though you know it's wrong...OR you can choose to stand up for what you know is right and put your faith into practice. When you're out on the football field and your friends are talking about partying and drinking on the weekends....you have an opportunity to make a choice to stand up and tell your friends that you may not agree with what they are doing.

Sometimes it's hard to notice the opportunities before us when we are doing the SAME thing every single day. You have the same classes, the same routine, and it's easy to get into a rut. But part of being successful as a Christian is finding God in the mundane, everyday things, and acknowledging God's presence in that moment. When you get to school and get out of the car...you have a choice. You can take a moment right there where you are and ask God to show you ways to be Christ-like throughout your day...or you can choose to try and do it completely on your own.

I can tell you from my experience that it's always easier when you can trust God and allow God to be at work through you.

2008-08-18T11:00:00.001-05:00

I speak to you under the influence of God: Creator, Christ, and Holy Spirit. As I typed that yesterday I was humbled and reminded of how audacious a claim that is to make. That’s something I’ve learned over the course of my three years as a Christian in college. I’ve also learned that that claim should only be made after lots of prayer, thought, reflection, discernment, and listening to the voice of the Spirit.

That being said, I have a question for you. Are any of you familiar with the webpage “I Can Has Cheezburger?” For those of you who aren’t, it is a collection of images of cats in funny positions with captions that are misspelled and often without proper grammar. They are some of the funniest things I’ve seen, and I give a lot of credit to the people who caption the pictures that make me laugh.

This summer I found out that there is a webpage of people who are spending their time translating the Bible into lolcat, the language that the cats speak. Lol at the beginning stands for “laugh out loud.” While some might see this translation as sacrilege or merely silly, having looked through it online I’ve really liked the way that some of the things are phrased. Here is an example, using the Matthew text that Tate just read for us. Before hearing it, you should know that “cheezburgers” are blessings and “Ceiling Cat” is God.

Wen teh Jebus comez in hiz awesumness, n al teh angels wit 'im, he wil sit on 'is couch of teh ceilings awesumness. All teh nashuns will be gatherd before him, an he will separate teh peeps wan frum anothr as sheferd separatez teh sheep frum teh goats. he will put teh sheep on his rite an teh goats on his left. "den teh king will say to dose on his rite, coem, yu hoo haz cheezburgrz from ceiling cat; taek ur kitteh toyz, teh kingdom prepard for yu since teh creashun ov teh urfs. 4 i wuz hungry an u openz canz and not drai fuds, i wuz thirsty an u gaev me some bowlz, i wuz strangr an yu were liek, "o hai," i had dirty furz an yu gaev me licks, i wuz sick an u rap pillz in ham, i scratch bathrum door an yu openz. "den teh riteshus will say, Jebus, when did we c u hungry an gaev yu gushy fud, or thirsty an gaev yu milks? when did we see yu strangr an says "o hai," or durty furz and lick yu?" when did we know yu sick or stuck in bathroom and help yu? "teh king will says, srsly, whatevr yu did teh other kittehs, evn lame kittehs, yu liek did to me.

What I like about the lolcat bible is that it takes phrases that may be quite familiar to us and gives them a different spin that has caught my attention. The verse that has shaped what my college life as a Christian is Micah 6.8, which in lolcat is, “An wut doez teh lord want from yuz? 2 be nais, 2 luv givin 2nd chansez An 2 walk humbly wif ur ceilin cat, srsly.” In the New Revised Standard Version that’s “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.”

I first encountered this verse at my first trip to the General Board of Church and Society’s seminar program my freshman year. It has become a cornerstone of what being a Christian in college means to me. Charity and justice have to go together. This exposure to another side of Christianity led to a paradigm shift from my old version of faith. It means that in addition to doing acts of charity in Juarez, Mexico or building wheelchair ramps in Greenville I have to work to change systems that are oppressive, and that, I believe links my Micah text, the Psalm Melissa read, and our Gospel tonight. Time and again I have taken a vow, in United Methodist settings to “resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves.” In Episcopal settings I have promised to “strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being.” All means all.

It’s not enough for me to build a house for the impoverished in Mexico. To build the Kin-dom here and now I have to look at the ways our economy affects others’ and seek to change negative aspects. It’s not enough for me to give food or money to the homeless, I have to be willing to see how national and state governments allocate funds and lobby my congressperson and senators to be more equitable and compassionate. It’s not enough for me to tell lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgendered friends “all are welcome in this place.” In April I went to General Conference and stood in witness with the Reconciling Ministries Network and it’s young adult division, Methodist Students for an All-Inclusive Church to work for the full inclusion of all of societies marginalized into the full life of Christ’s one, holy church.

The way I have come to live out my faith in college is drastically different from the way I lived it in high school. I feel as though I’ve become more knowledgeable about Jesus, what Jesus said, and open to applying that to my life – even when I don’t think it makes sense. Being a Christian in college, I don’t think, is really all that hard, particularly in a culture saturated with “Christianity.” I think, however, that following Christ and Christ’s radical messages of love, forgiveness, and inclusion is hard, not just in college but throughout all of life.

The Gospel of Inclusion

2008-08-16T19:11:00.001-05:00

This morning I was flipping through TV stations trying to find something to watch and I stopped on MSNBC ( I was really looking for the Olympics) and Dateline was on. It is the story of Bishop Carlton Pearson. The entire piece is in two videos, please watch.

Over the past year or so, I have had almost the exact same revelation. It wasn't as sudden as Carlton's but we both got to the same conclusion. How could a loving, forgiving God, who always gives you a second chance, eternally punish you. It kills me to see people preaching that Jesus would exclude anyone. Jesus lived on the margins. He was radical and broke the rules. If we could only follow the two commandments Jesus gave us then the world would be a much better place.

Tate Hinkle

Hmmm.

2008-08-04T18:31:00.000-05:00

more cat pictures

being CHURCH -- an exercise in embracing powers higher than ourselves.

2008-08-04T11:56:00.002-05:00

i look forward to this year more than any previous. certainly, i am excited about graduation and all that that entails, but there is more held within this calendar year than whatever i have written in my planner.

yes, i have planned a trip a washington, dc down.. a trip to new york city.. a trip to juarez mexico. do i believe these will be life changing and full of experience that will season my faith with a deeper understanding of how people work, and how i work? do i believe that through these experiences i will learn how to better serve God and do the work of the Church? yes. but, i see a bigger picture unfolding.

the title of the blog is "being CHURCH." i believe we can accomplish this through embracing powers higher than ourselves. i believe we can accomplish this through attitudes seasoned with humility (and equally with reason) that touch and transform the conversations we have, the people we love, and the world we inhabit. after all, we are called to be Jesus in the world today, are we not?

of course, with everything said on the topic of faith -- easier said than done. and that is why we have the Church. we have the Church so that when what is said is easy, and what is being done is lacking, we have the encouragement to push through and have lives worthy of our calling.

just a thought. :)

Getting Excited

2008-08-01T00:11:00.003-05:00

I'm in Chicago and I'm ready to be back in Troy. I miss people and I miss the Wesley. I'm ready to be back, and I'm getting excited about next year. I think that we have a lot of clear divisions of labor that aren't meant to stifle but rather actually play to people's strengths and callings.

I'm excited about planning CHURCH in committee rather than alone. I'm looking forward to seeing how we do with the time and location change. I really want us to explore the SLICE (Sacramental,Liturgical, Indigenous, Connected, and Embodied) model of worship and work together to not just plan worship, but lead the community in implementing that which we plan...even if that means giving up Word and Table IV during Lent, but that's something we'll discuss in a group. I'm looking forward to some more responsive Great Thanksgivings and musical settings for responses.

I'm looking forward to continue working with Erin on Social Justice stuff. We've already been planning some via text, and some of it might not be well received. My excitement for DC is growing, and that's not just because I love the city. It will be my last seminar with the Wesley...I'll've gone through two US2s at GBCS. A little anxious about Mexico, but mostly anxious about fundraising for the two.

I need to go to bed. Looking forward to more stuff from others in the next week. Abide in peace, and pray for me, a sinner.

Untitled

2008-04-27T22:00:00.001-05:00

Erin Warde
6 Easter, A
27 April 2008
John 14.15-21

In “Sailing to Byzantium” by William Butler Yeats, Yeats makes a poetic plea when he writes, “Consume my heart away; sick with desire and fastened to a dying animal it knows not what it is; and gather me into the artifice of eternity.” The message of the plea is simple – Help me, my soul is trapped in this body, this dying animal, and it knows not what it is. Take me away to a place of life.

Looking at last week’s gospel reading, the church spoke of Jesus as the way, the truth, and the life. Rather than using this verse as a way to pick a “my Dad is better than your dad” fight with people that aren’t Christians, I see this as an opportunity to simply see the beauty of the Trinity – God, the creator, only can create a WAY to Himself, Jesus Christ came to the world to speak TRUTH of who God is, and now the Holy Spirit has come in today’s gospel reading so that you, and even I, may have LIFE… and in that, a counselor, intercessor, helper, strengthener, advocate, and standby (as the Amplified Bible eloquently states.) The response to this way, truth, and life should not be spiritual arrogance, but humble thankfulness. In verse 18 Jesus says “I will not leave you as orphans, I will come back to you.” Our way, truth, and life has promised to never abandon us.

But how does God do this? How does God make this promise? He makes a promise that he fulfills in the tangible, beautiful, eternal Eucharist. The way? God allows all people renewed by blessed water a way to feast at a Heavenly banquet that spans the fullness of time. The truth? The truth of the mystery of faith – Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. The life? The life is the CHURCH that feasts as one, at one loaf, to celebrate the reason for the hope that they have.

Outside of the Eucharist, God promises to never abandon His people through faith that the Church will do as He’s commanded – that in loving God, they will love others also. He will never abandon His children because the Church will be clothing the unclothed, quenching the thirst of the thirsty, loving the unloved. As the Church, while we feast on one loaf together, breaking bread as a community, we must never forget in eating Heavenly food that our heart must yearn to meet the literal hunger of those around us. We must never believe that bread’s sustenance is limited to those washed in the waters of Baptism. We must love our neighbor, whether believing or not, as ourselves. As much as we feed our own spiritual hunger, we must feed the literal hunger of those around us. In this way, his children are never abandoned, never hungry.

Yeats writes in “Sailing to Byzantium” “An aged man is but a paltry thing, a tattered coat upon a stick, unless soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing, for ever tatter in its mortal dress.” Through the imparting of the Holy Spirit we are given the ability to not be just a tattered coat upon a stick, but a people renewed – people in communion with the great “I AM” and full of love. No, God will never abandon us, just as we are called to never abandon others. In celebration of the Eucharist, we are certainly given a reason for our souls to clap their hands and sing, and louder sing, regardless of every tatter in our mortal dress.

Untitled

2007-11-01T20:00:00.000-05:00

Joseph P. Mathews, OSL
All Saints, C
1 November 2007
Luke 6.20-31

Those who have been attending CHURCH on a regular basis might have noticed a few changes tonight from the way some things have been happening this year. I’ll get to the text shortly, but first a few comments about tonight’s service. As the year started I thought about the hospitality of changing certain things every week. In the beginning, today was the switching point of the first semester. How we respond to the first lesson with the Psalm has changed and will stay the same through the end of the calendar year. Our creeds and prayers of the people have been relatively consistent; each has had one change over the course of the semester.

The biggest change – how we respond to the second lesson in preparation for the Gospel lesson - is a direct result of this day. We’ve come together tonight to remember all God’s saints and those close to us who have died in the last year. We’ve changed from a gradual hymn – one that sandwiches the Gospel lesson, often to give room for a Gospel procession into the people – to an alleluia as the Gospel acclamation. In the burial rite of the Book of Common Prayer¬ – the service book of The Episcopal Church – after communion the priest says, “You only are immortal, the creator and maker of mankind;  and we are mortal, formed of the earth, and to earth shall we  return. For so did you ordain when you created me, saying, ‘You are dust, and to dust you shall return.’ All of us go down to the dust; yet even at the grave we make our song: Alleluia,  alleluia, alleluia.”
As we’ve gathered here tonight having come from various graves our song continues to be the joyful song of the resurrection – alleluia, alleluia, alleluia – and our Gospel text for this day lends itself to that song and calls to mind the Saints of God who surround us now in a great cloud of witnesses and those souls who have passed from our lives in recent times. And now to address the Gospel before us.

Today’s Gospel text contains the Lukan Beatitudes, which as I read them you may have noticed are not the ones that we usually see on bookmarks or lists or ever discussed really. Luke’s version of the Sermon on the Mount, or as Dallas Willard likes to put it “Discourse on the Hill” was recorded before Matthew’s and the words Luke has for us are sharper and – like how I think the Gospel should be read and lived – scarier. In addition to having Beatitudes – blessings, this text contains Woes and the beginning of the Lukan account of Jesus’s speech about loving one’s enemies. All three parts can be applied to our lives in some way or another, regardless of how the text directly speaks to us.
The first part of the text is a section of blessings. Blessings are for the poor, the hungry, and the weeping. Something that did not escape my eye the first time I read this passage (while I had Matthew in my head) was that these blessings are not for those who lack in a spiritual sense, but rather for those who merely lack. The poor were at the bottom of the heap in the First Century CE. As such not only would the first line have spoken to them, but the second and third parts too. If you are poor you may not be able to feed yourself – or more scary to some, your family. If you are doing your best to pay rent and get food on the table, but feel like nothing is working, you might break down into tears. Frequently. Jesus talks to these people in these parts.

The blessings Jesus gives the poor, the hungry, and the weeping is a role-reversal that has is a common theme in the Lukan narrative. Although the Sunday readings have us in Luke 18 now, for the last many chapters Jesus has been flipping things upside down. Rabbinic teaching of the day was that those who were wealthy were blessed of God. The people with tables full every meal had done what they were supposed to do and God was rewarding them. Here Jesus takes that and completely rejects it.

Rather than saying the rich and the full are blessed, he offers them woe. Those who are rich have received their due. Those who are full will be hungry. Those who laugh will weep. This is a message of hope for some but not for others. The Mathian version of the Beatitudes we are used to hearing not only spiritualizes huger and poverty, but also omits Jesus’s woes that Luke records. How, then is this Gospel text good news for those of us not utterly oppressed? Though we may be weeping at the losses of our loved ones, how can those of us who are neither deeply impoverished nor starving see what Jesus has to say as good news? Do the woes apply to…us?

I would say that depends. The Good News of this text for many of us comes in the way Christ spoke to the disciples. The langue here in the Greek is active and performative – think back to how the Christian creation story is recorded. God speaks and it is. In saying these things and speaking these words, Christ not only verbally rejects the rabbinic teaching of the day, but through the Word of the Almighty makes it so. The poor are blessed. The hungry are filled. The weeping do laugh.

But what of the second part of the sermon here? Where Jesus talks about loving our enemies, turning the other cheek, giving to anyone who begs?… I quote verse 31 in summary, “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” Here Jesus is saying more scary things. Roles were reversed at the beginning of this lesson, and now Jesus is calling us out of the safety that we may have found in our faith. We are not called to return evil for evil. Or to hate those who hate us. We are not called to grudingly give our coats and keep our shirts. We are not called to question the motives or usages of those who beg or are in need. We’re to return a slap for a slap, give more than is asked of us, and give to whomever asks of us. This is not safe in the world in which we live, where we might be kidnapped or physically harmed or where we ourselves might be starving or cold. These people, though are the people we remember today. The legend of Saint Martin of Tours, patron of the local Catholic parish is that he took the cloak off his back and gave it to a beggar.

As I think about those I’ve lost in my life in the last year I think about my grandmother, who on many occasions told me to turn the other cheek. She died early in the spring, and I remember the tears that I wept from the Honors Cottage to the Wesley. While writing this today I teared up thinking about those tears. I remember how stoic I was during the entire burial and how much I laughed with my family at her house. I also remember that it really hit me not during the service of Death and Resurrection, but during the remembering of the dead at St. Mark’s. Elizabeth Mathews was a saint of God. In showing her love for other people she became active in the performative language of Christ.

Loving one another in the radical way that Christ loved us is dangerous indeed. Christ addresses it when he says, “Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man.” Here he tells us that our radical, world-changing love is to include all people as people. All means all, and people means recognizing that every human being is a creation of the divine. Labeling others in terms of one aspect of their life devalues them as human beings and objectifies them as items to be tossed about. Conversely, those who maintain established norms so well that no one speaks badly of them are warned that they’re not doing something right and should reevaluate all that they’re doing.

On this All Saints Day think about the communion of saints – those who have come before us, those with us now, and those who are yet to come. Think about those we remember tonight – individually and corporately – who loved everyone, especially their neighbors and in doing so joined in the active, performative language of Christ in blessing the poor, the hungry, and the weeping. Think about saints today - those from all walks of life beside you, those you know, and you yourselves evaluate how you are loving your enemy, giving to all who beg, and blessing the poor.

I leave you with the words of a hymn that I adore, number 712 in the United Methodist Hymnal, written by Lesbia Scott. It’s a hymn entitled “I Sing a Song of the Saints of God” and was originally written as an Anglican hymn but has been made more specific to the American church. It addresses the love we are to show to God and to our neighbor and illustrates that our living into Christ’s words is not dependent on our job or station in life.

I sing a song of the saints of God,
patient and brave and true,
who toiled and fought and lived and died
for the Lord they loved and knew.
And one was a doctor, and one was a queen,
and one was a shepherdess on the green;
they were all of them saints of God, and I mean,
God helping, to be one too.

They loved their Lord so dear, so dear,
and his love made them strong;
and they followed the right for Jesus' sake
the whole of their good lives long.
And one was a soldier, and one was a priest,
and one was slain by a fierce wild beast;
and there's not any reason, no, not the least,
why I shouldn't be one too.

They lived not only in ages past;
there are hundreds of thousands still.
The world is bright with the joyous saints
who love to do Jesus' will.
You can meet them in school, on the street, in the store,
in church, by the sea, in the house next door;
they are saints of God, whether rich or poor,
and I mean to be one too.

In the name of the Alpha and the Omega: the God who was, the God who is, and the God who is to come. Amen.

Untitled

2007-10-28T22:00:00.000-05:00

Ashley Davis
28 October 2007
22+ Pentecost, C
Luke 18.9-14

So, on our way back from Park Memorial this afternoon, Paul, and Jeana, and I were listening to this song and it struck me that there was some syncronicity to this song and our Gospel text for the day. It is a dialogue song. Gary Coleman’s part of the opening dialogue goes like this:

GARY COLEMAN: Right now you are down and out and feeling really crappy
NICKY: I'll say.
GARY COLEMAN: And when I see how sad you are/ It sort of makes me...Happy!
NICKY: Happy?!
GARY COLEMAN: Sorry, Nicky, human nature-/ Nothing I can do!/ It's...
Schadenfreude! Making me feel glad that I'm not you.
NICKY: Well that's not very nice, Gary!
GARY COLEMAN: I didn't say it was nice! But everybody does it!

Yes, I just quoted “Shadenfreude” (which is German for happiness at the misfortune of others) from Avenue Q in a sermon. The song ends with the lyrics, “Shadenfreude: making the world a better place to be.”

Meanwhile, back at the text…Verse 9 tells us that this parable was written to “some who were confident in their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else.”

I think the first question we should ask is, “Who you talkin’ ‘bout, Jesus?”

Luke says Jesus speaks to “some,” but we want names, don’t we. Traditionally, we have assumed that Jesus is talking to the Pharisees, all Pharisees are proud and self-righteous now aren’t they, talk about stereotyping, but notice that the text does not say that Jesus addressed the Pharisees.

Drop down to the closing line of our passage, “all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.” This is a direct quote from Luke 14:11, when Jesus talked to the guests who chose a places of honor at a banquet. The last verse keeps us from limiting who Jesus is talking about to just one group.

I think maybe at this point, since you are all intelligent people, you realize that this is just as easily about the disciples and certainly just as easily about each of us. We read this parable and immediately and ironically think, gosh, that Pharisee was wrong, glad I’m not like him, and whoops you are.

Let’s dig into the body of this passage a little more. Both people go up to the temple. Regardless of which direction you come from the temple was at the highest point in Jerusalem so you had to go up. Prayer has been a theme from the beginning of this chapter, which told us through the widow to “pray persistently” and here to beware of the “perils of presumptuous prayer.” We get both the position and the prayer of both individuals. Both people start out with the word “God” and that is about as much as they have in common. The Pharisee stands up front and offers God a prayer of thanksgiving and reminds God of all he has done for God. The tax collector stood at a distance and said,” God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” The tax collector’s words mirror the beginning of Psalm 51, except that he adds the words “a sinner.” The Psalm goes on to say, I know my transgressions and my sin is ever before me…create in me a clean heart and put a new and right spirit within me.”

Let’s hold up before we give the tax collector some metal of honor and make the Pharisee out to be a certified stinker. This parable neglects the fact that this tax collector, once he has wiped his eyes and blown his nose, will head home and probably continue his shady job. Sure it sucks, it is a nasty business, but he is stuck in it. To care for his family and what not, tomorrow he will take from his neighbors, turn money over to the empire, and keep some for himself. How many of us get the prayer right in church and fail to live it out in our daily lives?

On to the Pharisee, the parable doesn’t tell us that he sang “The Summons” all the way to the temple that day, or that he had tears in his eyes as he prayed, or that he was awash with emotion, and really meant all that he said. What preacher wouldn’t love a church full of people as committed as the Pharisee: he titles regularly, teaches Sunday School, visits the sick and feeds the hungry.

His prayer wasn’t that bad, it is very similar to many classic prayers of the time, look at the Psalms. The thing that separates him from the Jewish form is that he doesn’t say thank you from sparing me from being a thief or a rogue, but thank you that I am not like “this” tax collector. Here, he changes from a grammar of gratitude to a grammar of elitism. Here, he stopped praying and started speaking. With one sideways glance, he measures himself against his neighbor and is quite pleased with the distance he finds.

So in a sense this parable is a warning against pride, and self-sufficiency, and of relying on one’s own good works. It is also about being aware of who you are, both as a sinner and as a child of God, without having to compare yourself to your neighbor. As it so happens, we having been studying just this same thing in Tuesday lunch Bible study, Henri Nouwen in his book Compassion says, “Through union with God, we are lifted out of our competitiveness with each other into divine wholeness. By sharing in the wholeness of the one in whom no competition exists, we can enter into new compassionate relationships with each other. By accepting our identities from the one who is the giver of life, we can be with each other without distance or fear. This new identity, free from greed and desire for power, allows us to enter so fully and unconditionally into the sufferings of others that it becomes possible for us to heal the sick and call the dead to life.”

The group that the Pharisee belonged to did not make this easy for him, to be a Pharisee meant that you separated yourself from others so as to maintain purity before God. If you drew cartoon balloons over each of our heads I imagine some of them would say, “ Thank God I’m not like those fundamentalists.” Or “Thank God I’m not like those liberals.” Or “thank God I’m above all this.” Is there anymore of a sign that we have no idea who we are? Isn’t it so much easier and more comforting to look at others than to try to make sense of our own paradoxical selves? As our opening lyrics of the sermon said, does it really make the world a better place in any way for me to feel glad that I’m not you? Who you talkin’ to Jesus? Me and you and you and all of you.

In the name of our creator who invites us all to remember our true identity as children of God, an identity that doesn’t come from comparing ourselves to others or separating ourselves from them, amen.

Fall Break Part 2

2007-10-14T22:00:00.000-05:00

No gathering.

Fall Break Part 1

2007-10-07T22:00:00.000-05:00

No Gathering

Fifth Sunday

2007-09-30T22:00:00.000-05:00

Gathering of song and scripture. No sermon.

Untitled

2007-09-23T22:00:00.000-05:00

Andrew Garner
23 September 2007
17+ Pentecost, C
Untitled
Luke 16.1-13

Let us pray.

Holy and most gracious Father, you have been made known to us through your Son. Thank you for sending Him so that we may have eternal life. Bring your spirit here in this place this evening and speak through me so that what I speak may be heard. Thank you for this day. In Christ’s holy name, Amen.

I just want to start out by saying thank you for allowing me to come before you again on the tail end of a stormy weekend. I am going to have to be honest with you today, I have been reading and studying the gospel reading for the week and I wasn’t comfortable with it. It just didn’t sink in very well with me. Yes, I got the general picture and I even finished typing my original sermon for this evening yesterday. But even after I got done with it, I still wasn’t happy.

So, I got up this morning thinking that I needed to write it again, and how correct I was. I went to church hoping that I would get some inspiration and thankfully, I got it. At St. Mary’s in Andalusia, we are searching for a priest and interim priests come every Sunday to fill in. I was anxious to hear the priest’s sermon today to get what she had to say about the gospel reading. It wasn’t as if I was cheating by all means, but picking up pointers.

Let us now turn to the gospel reading for this evening. Jesus, and I love how he does it, gives us another parable to help explain a complex and hard message for a lot of us to follow. It is of the dishonest manager and as I read just a few moments ago was the manager’s response to getting caught for accounting his master’s money the wrong way. That in itself is just a simple telling of the message, but like Jesus, he loves to make it cryptic so we have to think on it and digest the true meaning. I ask all of you this. How do you use your material possessions?

When I ask myself this, I think, well… I am very selfish. And I think everybody here can say that as well. Yes I know that many of you are on a budget while in college and cannot spend the huge amounts of money that we want to, believe me, I was there. Jesus in the gospel lesson makes it very clear that we are to use what we have for His glory and His glory alone. If your material wealth is in money, than why not give most to charities or more importantly to the church? In materials, donating them to the poor or giving stuff away that you never use. I can think of a few things in my possession that I can give away at the drop of a hat because I have no use for them.

This reading reminds me of and I am paraphrasing the wealthy man asks Jesus, “How does one inherit eternal life?” Jesus says simply, “Give everything to the poor.” If in our current world that we live in today Jesus asks us to do that, would we?

I honestly don’t know what my answer to his summon would be, but I think I would say, “Lord, If I were to give you all of my possessions, than how am I to serve your Father in heaven to His glory?”

So, I ask a very simple, but complex question, “What can you do with your possessions for Him?” I hope that you take that with you back to your dorms, apartments or houses and look around to see what you can donate or just do without. Remember, there are more people that need it more than you do in most cases. And most importantly, what can we do for His glory?

Let us pray.

Thank you Lord for allowing us again to come before you this evening on this day of rest. I humbly ask that you be with us in our daily lives and that all will be well in this week that lies ahead. And, as we partake in the Eucharist in a few moments, please help to remind us of the sacrifice of your Son on the cross. It is in the most precious and holy name that I pray, Amen.

Rivers of Love

2007-09-16T22:05:00.000-05:00

Steven Doss

16 September 2007

16+ Pentecost, C

"Better Than Paige's" or "Rivers of Love"

When a river begins at the top of the mountain, it has only one purpose, to get to the ocean. Many different things try to impede the process of that river as it makes it’s natural journey towards that ocean. Trees fall into the river, creating a natural dam that disrupts the natural flow in a vicious struggle between two opposing natural forces. Not only does the river have to deal with nature attempting to block its passage to where it needs to go, but mankind also places barriers to keep the river from it’s place. Though the river has all these barriers, it ultimately will reach its goal. The flow of the river will push the trees that block its path away. It will find the holes that are placed in the man made dam, so that it can get to where it needs to be in the quickest time possible.

The gospel lesson for this evening is one we have heard ever since Sunday School. It is the story of a woman who has 10 coins and loses one. Rather than be content with the 9 she already has, she struggles to find the coin that she has lost. Being poor college students, struggling so that we can pay our bills and needing all the money that we can get, this story relates to us in a better way than the story that comes later. A shepherd has 100 sheep and again, he loses one. He spends as much time as needed so that he can find the one he lost. In both these cases, we are given a glimpse into the love of God. Even when we are “lost,” God will try and find you. This is further exemplified in the parable that follows: The Story of the Prodigal Son. We all know the story, a young man wants to leave his father with his inheritance to go to the big city and live it up. He blows all his money on the pleasures of life, but ends up living destitute. He returns to his father a humble and broken man. The father comes to his son with open arms and an open home. Again, the moral of this story is that God’s love is all encompassing. No matter how “lost” you are, God will always look for you, and when you return, God will take you in no matter what. It’s nice to know that God’s love is always there, and that is a good lesson to take home from these texts. However, one thing that many people overlook is the reasons that people get “lost” from God’s love. We love looking at the ocean that the river flows into, but we fail to understand the what the trees that lay across the path that the river flows through.

To begin with, we have the natural blockades that slow us realizing that God loves us. The human condition is one of our greatest assets. It allows us to do wonderful things. It allows us to have wonderful feelings of love, compassion, and hospitality. But, with that we also have the not so wonderful things. Grief, fear, despair: all those human emotions that can cause us to become lost. In my life, I’ve had many opportunities to show both aspects of our natural condition. For instance, as many of you know, I had to hear about the death of a close friend via instant messenger while I was in Korea. I remember how it felt as I was riding to work that day. I thought that I could handle it…I thought that I could just “play through the pain” as my high school soccer coach would put it. I broke down many times that day. It was the first time I had ever really drank either. I told my friends there that I was in no condition to go out with them for the weekend, but I did anyway, thinking that would help. 80,000 Won later, I did not feel any better. Through all this, I had in the back of my mind that God was not there anymore. I thought God had sent me to this place where I was completely alone, and did this to me as a cruel test, a test that I did not want to take at all. I knew all my friends were hurting as well, but for the first time I did not want to put them first. I felt a different aspect of the “personal relationship with God” that I heard so much about…I felt that God had a vendetta against me. God sent me to Korea just to turn around a kick me in the butt. This is an extreme situation, but it tells us of a universal truth. God’s love towards me had “hit a snag” in my mind. It was my own humanity that caused a blockage in God’s love getting to me. I had reached a pit of despair. My own psyche had told me that God had left me. I was the lost sheep. I was the lost coin.

We also have worldly barriers that prevent God’s love from reaching us as quickly as it should. We live in a capitalistic society. Many of the people in this world require only one thing to be, in their minds, happy. Money. The almighty dollar. While it is nice to have enough to get by, many of us take it to the extreme. We feel that getting money is the only way to fill the voids in our life. We have to have the newest electronics, the flashiest car, and the nicest clothes. Without it, we feel like less of a person in the grand scheme of life. We shun friends, family, and God as we strive to make a little more in our pay check than the next person. We become lost when we place the love of our worldly above all else.

Now, we’ve talked a good bit about why we become lost, but there is good news. Even though we place barriers, God’s love will always try to reach us. What we need to realize that even though it hits some snags along the way, God’s love will constantly flow from God’s self to us here in the world. It will try to reach us, but we do have to try and meet it half way. Even though it is hard, we must realize that the end of a part of our life is not the end of all of it. Also, we must realize that this world is fleeting. We cannot shun our responsibility to our world and all it’s peoples because we wish to have it a little better than the next person. If we constantly look to keep up with the Jones’, we miss what is passing us buy, which is the essence of God’s love. The world’s barriers will get in the way, but God’s love will try and get by them. If we help it out a bit, then it will get there faster.

When a river begins at the top of a mountain, it has one purpose, to reach the ocean at the bottom. Along the way, it gets slowed by the trees and rocks that block its path. But, the river’s flow will smooth and erode the rocks to dust. It will push the trees that cross the path out of the way. The natural barriers will all succumb to the flow of God’s love. The dams that we put up in our quest for worldly significance will fall, just as long as we leave some pathways in our hearts for that river to flow. In the end, God’s love will prevail…it will never stop trying to get to us. We will all have many times where we are the lost coin. We will see many days that we are the lost sheep. We will always be searched for by God, no matter what. The river will reach us, and it’s up to us to try and make the flow come to us as easily as possible.

Labor Day Weekend

2007-09-02T22:00:00.000-05:00

No gathering

Untitled Sermon

2007-08-26T22:00:00.000-05:00

Paige Swaim

26 August 2007

Pentecost 13+, C

Untitled

I’m at this point in my life where I find myself suddenly redefining who I am. And I have to tell you that I feel a little bit ashamed of that. I mean, I’m 24—little for that game, right? Shouldn’t I know who I am by now? And shouldn’t I have the confidence to just be that person, and not be so afraid of what other people think about me? But the truth is, I’m realizing just how much of my former confidence I drew from the people around me, and an environment where I was comfortable. I spent this summer coming to terms with the fact that I am deeply afraid of confrontation, and deeply afraid of failure. So now I enter my bright new future as a graduate student feeling less excited and more uncertain that I expected—uncertain about my abilities in a lot of areas, but most of all in my ability to be who I believe I am.

I remember vividly a good friend of mine calling me early last fall and telling me, with great frustration, that going to law school was a lot like going back to high school—cliques, drugs, in-crowd and all. Much to my surprise and disappointment, I’m starting to fear that divinity school may not be so different. Sure, the people here are much “nicer”—they are polite, even friendly—on the surface. But is that the same thing as true Christian community? And do I have the courage to call it like I see it, to face rejection and labeling to be friends with the people the “in-crowd” consider (however “nicely” they put it) weird, boring, or just plain unworthy? I feel like a fourteen-year-old again, and God is having to re-teach me disciplines I thought I had mastered long ago. It doesn’t help that some of these people might someday hold my job in their hands! I’m realizing now, as I’ve been realizing all spring and summer, that this life of love God calls us to really is totally radical—even to the very people who are trying to devote their lives to it. Following the example Christ sets for us in this passage from Luke will be far more difficult than we think, but it is also desperately important for our Christian community and the world at large.

We find our gospel passage this Sunday towards the middle of what scholars call Luke’s Journey narrative, a time when Jesus and his followers are traveling towards Jerusalem and the Passion. Luke couches many of the “great teachings” of Jesus in this narrative, including the Luke-an version of the Sermon on the Mount. Along the way, Jesus speaks, by turns, to his disciples, the crowds of followers, and his opponents. This construction of Luke’s text makes beautiful sense: As they travel towards the heart of his mission, Jesus is preparing his followers for the tests they will soon face in—and after—Jerusalem. And as we as readers follow Jesus’s journey, we also learn about the kingdom of God and the actions of true disciples. Throughout this journey narrative, we are being prepared for what is to follow in Jerusalem—and because the author of Luke-Acts is uniquely concerned with the life of the post-resurrection church, we are also being prepared to carry on the ministry of Christ in the world around us.

One question, then, is this: What is this message God empowers us to live? What might this gospel passage, in particular, teach us about the ministry to which we are called? Let’s take a closer look at this text, and see what we can find out. We enter the story to find Jesus teaching in a synagogue on the Sabbath. He sees a woman come into the synagogue who is “bent over,” and immediately he calls her to him and restores her. Although Jesus tells the synagogue leader and worshippers that the woman has been bound by Satan, the story doesn’t read like a typical exorcism. Instead, Luke continually uses the language of Jesus’s metaphor: Jesus sets free—unties—the woman, just as most Jews would untie their valuable ox or donkey to lead the animal a few feet to water.

The synagogue leader is distressed. Jesus has just really upset the status quo—which is usually a difficult thing for people, especially powerful people, to accept. But let’s not give in to the temptation to completely villainize this man: the problem was really much deeper than a threat to his comfort zone, or even to his power. For the Jewish people in this story, the interpretation of what is Sabbath would have been a question of deepest identity—as it remains for many in the Jewish faith today. How Sabbath is interpreted reflects an understanding of God, of God’s chosen people, and, as one of those chosen people, a spiritual understanding of self. By healing this bent woman, Jesus has usurped the leader’s supposedly God-given authority to interpret the Sabbath and its worship. He has also threatened the understood Jewish identity in a number of ways.

Jesus has called attention during a sacred time to someone—and a woman, no less—whose disability would have been seen as a mark of God’s displeasure; he has risked ritual uncleanliness by touching her; and he has violated the interpretation of Sabbath rest and worship that defines his people and their understanding of God. It’s no wonder Jesus’s actions cause such a controversy—and, judging by his similar Sabbath healings earlier in Luke’s gospel, a controversy that Jesus probably expected from the second he began teaching that day. Jesus purposefully caused a major identity crisis for an entire community!

Earlier, I suggested that we examine this passage in light of Christ’s message and mission in the world. Here, Christ makes it clear that God values the well-being of Creation—and particularly she who is downtrodden, “bent over,” and overlooked—far more than unbending “religious” obedience. We are all of value both to God and to one another. We are a people called to receive liberating healing, and, as the body of Christ, we are also called to dispense it. Sabbath should be a time of restoration to that mythical pre-fallen state, a place of rest, peace, and joy in God’s presence; and as Jesus lived it, everyone is to be invited into Sabbath as an act of Sabbath. And that does mean everyone.

You see, in this passage Jesus reaches out to a person despised or forgotten by her people, and restores a bent woman to her dignity, healing her and honoring her with the title “daughter of Abraham.” She is an example to us all: she came to worship, and was healed. She was an outcast, and yet beloved of God. We can relate to her, and we should also reach out to those in circumstances like hers. Luke’s narrative also does this Daughter of Abraham considerable injustice, however. Although she speaks, praising God in fact, the gospel of Luke does not give us her words. She, like so many women then and now, is silenced for us; and as we speak the liberating message of Christ, we need to be careful that we don’t also become someone else’s “muffler.”

Yes, we are empowered to bring hope and freedom to those on the margins of our success-and-power-driven society. That is one of our missions. But we have to be cautious when we do this not to let the mission become our mission alone rather than God’s, and we surely must take care not to silence the many voices longing to tell their stories. And we all do some silencing, even when we may have good intentions in other areas of our lives. We become passionate about proving ourselves, making our case, even fulfilling our Godly missions—but it’s so easy to forget, or even not to realize, how we are part of the problem.

How many of us silence the voices around us with our sarcasm, our sideways-glances, our thinly-disguised “jokes”—or simply our inattention? How many of us admit theoretically to the value of all of God’s children, but are only willing to live that out in the ways with which we are comfortable—much like the synagogue leader? For some of us, we reach out to people “in the name of God,” but never in true unashamed friendship under our own names. Sometimes, we work willingly on behalf of the poor or those who don’t know Christ’s love, but can’t handle truly valuing the opinions of a person who disagrees with our perspectives. At times, many of us use what we see as our God-given platforms to criticize the journeys of people who are different from ourselves. How often do we, through our own disdain, silence others’ ability to flourish and minister, while at the same time professing to heal the world in Christ’s name? There is more than one way to be marginalized, and more than one way to be silenced.

I stand here, telling you all that Jesus tells us to love one another. You probably already know this, and it seems like such a “nice” message. I promise you, however, that what I’m up here preaching is not a gospel of “warm fuzzies” and “niceness” and “can’t we all just get along?” Christ demonstrates clearly here that there will be times when we don’t, in fact, get along with the authorities and the crowds around us. Very few people, it’s true, will ever be angry at you for being “nice” and “agreeable” all the time—trust me, I fall into that trap more often than some of you might know. But true, radical love—that’s a different thing altogether.

People will criticize you for loving the care of your neighbor more than your political party, or for believing that the crazy-annoying guy in your class has something vital to offer to your group of friends, or for seeing the sacred worth in a person who leads a lifestyle or holds opinions vastly different from your own. People will fear you because you will care more about doing the will of God than the will of the church, your family, or your employer. You will feel that you risk not being accepted, not being “successful,” that you risk having to confront and disagree with people who have real power in your life—and you will be right. Fortunately, you will also have God’s promise of refuge, and, hopefully, a community who like the crowd rejoiced over the Daughter of Abraham’s restoration, will take joy in God’s work in the world.

Luke follows the story of this liberation with parables about the nature of the kingdom (or kindom, if you will) of God, and I believe we can understand those parables as a kind of a commentary on tonight’s passage. Jesus is showing us what the kingdom of God—the “kingdom that cannot be shaken,” as our passage in Hebrews states—is like: who is included, and who we—as members of that community—are. So then, perhaps this passage is as much about identity—who we all are in the kindom of God—as it is about Sabbath. Maybe the two are more related than we usually care to realize. If Sabbath is a time to recall and recreate God’s intended world, then aren’t we all, as children of God, called to follow the Daughter of Abraham and Christ’s examples? We should come to God for renewal, and we should constantly be inviting others into that renewal as well. Christ calls us to find our identity not by excluding others to define ourselves, but to open our arms to people we see as totally different—economically, socially, intellectually, personally—so that we can define ourselves through community, purpose, and love. God empowers us, as God empowered Jeremiah in our Old Testament passage, to speak and live out this message to the world. Let us do so with discernment, compassion, and humility. Let us be a people who see as Jesus saw a Daughter of Abraham in a bent old woman; let us be a people who restore dignity and voice to everyone who is, as one poet writes, “bent / by unbending ways.”

Jesus Meek and Mild...Not!

2007-08-19T22:00:00.000-05:00

Joseph P. Mathews, OSL
19 August 2007
Pentecost 12+, C

Luke 12.49-56
“Jesus Meek and Mild. Not.”

God of Flame, ignite us, set us on fire, rekindle us, and enflame us in passionate love for you. Draw us out of the confines of our safe and predictable faith and out to the high seas of adventuresome discipleship. May we burn brightly for your love. Amen.

Today’s text is not an easy one to preach. As I looked at the lectionary readings for today I had choices: Isaiah’s first song; a Psalm; a continuation of the discourse on Faith from the letter to the Hebrews; and finally, Jesus meek and mild. Not. “I came to bring fire to the earth!...Do you think I have come to bring peace on the earth? Ha! Division, I say! Dividing houses: fathers from sons and mothers from daughters!” No, this is not Jesus meek and mild, as much of our artwork portrays. Bishop Will Willimon, currently of the North Alabama Annual Conference has this to say about the text, “I confess I always feel a dread when we come to this particular Sunday of the year, this text from Luke, and this Jesus who runs counter to so much that we’ve tried to make him.” This, beloved, is a hard text to preach. But so is most of the Gospel when spoken to be applied to our lives. And it was to this text that I felt lead to speak on.

This week’s lesson is a continuation of pericopes – selections of scripture used to build a sermon around – of Christ’s warnings and exhortations. Two weeks ago Christ told the disciples not to worry because life is more than food and clothing. “Look to the ravens and the lilies,” he tells them, “they neither sow nor reap nor toil, but are fed to fullness and clothed splendidly.” Last week was “fear not little flock.” God wants us to live in the kindom here and now. This week, however, the tone changes. “Fear not little flock,” becomes “be terrified instead!”

By talking about fire, Jesus evokes a long history of imagery from our sacred text: Ecclesiastes lists it as a gift along with water, iron, honey, wine, and other things as gifts from God. But fire can be – and is meant to be – frightening, too. After Old Testament battles, how many cities were burned completely to show their total defeat? Fire is used for purification in Old Covenant religious rites. (What are some other fire references that we have from which to draw?) God lead the wandering Israelites by a pillar of fire at night. I AM appeared to Moses as a burning bush. Fire is a sign for the presence of God as well as being a gift representative of destruction and purification. When Jesus speaks of bringing fire to the earth, we have this imagery.

After the proclamation that fire is coming to the earth – fire of destruction, fire of purification, and/or fire of the presence of the Almighty – Jesus alludes to his coming death: “I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed!” Christ has come to take away the sin of the world. But Jesus has talked elsewhere in the Gospel about his mission on earth: to show we mortals how to live into the Kindom of God here and now. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Can you imagine being Jesus? Not yet to the point of praying “your will not mine” in terms of his death, but knowing that it’s coming? Can you imagine trying to change the world – to shake the foundations of the systems that are in place from the ground up - when you have boneheaded disciples with you who just don’t get it, even after you’ve explained it to them, and told them that they don’t get it? What kind of stress is that?

After telling the disciples – and us – of his stress, Christ throws a card that makes many people uncomfortable, particularly in light of his title Prince of Peace. “I’m not here to settle your arguments! I’m not here to make everything happy times! I’m here to bring about strife and division among you! Your houses will be split between those who follow me and those who do not!” This rejection of bringing peace is not a justification for war. In the first century of the Common Era, Israel was under Roman occupancy. Many expectant Jews planned for Messiah to throw off the Roman oppressors and bring about peace. But, as we know, he didn’t. He brought about a peace that passes human understand, and he tried to share it with us.

Christ tells us here that his message is not one of maintaining the status quo. He taught, acted, and lived as though heaven were already on earth. He expected his followers to do the same. Throughout the Gospel Jesus challenges the powers that be – government bodies, religious leaders, and human nature. He healed on the Sabbath and called the leaders hypocrites. He worked and lived for a Kindom that no one could actually see, even though they were living in one of the greatest empires in Western history. He said last week to “sell all that you have.” What? Sell all that I have? Depend on others who may at the same time be depending on me? That runs counter to our ingrained desires of self-preservation.

Following Christ causes division, particularly if we seek to live as a kindom people, where all are treated justly with fairness, and where God’s grace that we the baptized enjoy be enjoyed by everyone else – especially those we think deserve punishment for their actions. The Rev. Taylor Burton-Edwards observes that those most invested in earthly kingdoms will be most disturbed by talk of the Heavenly Kindom’s presence. I’m not saying to storm the jails and break them down, although this was considered an act of sanctity in the sixth century church. But we do have specific instruction to visit the jailed and show God’s love to them. I don’t suggest we have an anarchist revolution, but do suggest we strive to make a just society within our various forms of government.

If following Christ causes division, what are we doing that’s divisive? What are we doing that we think is divisive but is only maintaining the status quo? Who are we, as Christians, making angry? Who are we as a people called United Methodist stirring up? Who are you, as a body of believers and as individuals making question what they think and do? How are we living into those beautiful vows of our water baptisms – renouncing the spiritual forces of wickedness, rejecting the evil powers of darkness, repenting of our sin, and resisting evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves, putting our whole trust in Christ’s grace and being Christ’s representative to the world – so that we are being baptized with fire?

Our Social Principles can be a good jumping off point. What does this church of which you’re a member believe? Do you agree? Do you disagree? Why? What are you being done to change it? In our democratic system of government they can be changed. But what conclusions have the roughly a thousand members at the general conferences since our church was birthed reached and why? Do those things for which the United Methodist Church already stands for bring division and fire?

Furthermore, how are we not letting ourselves bring about divisions with fire? In her book Teaching that Transforms: Worship as the Heart of Christian Education, author Debra Dean Murphy is critical of worship styles that “dumb down” the faith and take Christ’s dramatic claims - “DIVISION! FIRE!” – and box them into a consumer culture’s limits:

"…the market driven character of much of our worship; the dumbing down of he church’s historic liturgy; the thoughtless capitulation by Christians to consumer capitalism; the extolling of managerial models of ecclesial leadership; the view of the church as a promoter of ‘family values; and defender of (abstract) principles of love, justice, and freedom; the facile identification of Christianity and nationalism; the failure to train the imaginations of the young; the devolving of rigorous Christian discourse into pious sentimentality; and the growing trend across Christian traditions toward a vacuous, generic, benign pop spirituality."[1]

How do we suppress fires in our worship? What songs do we not sing? What passages of scripture do we avoid? What prayers and litanies go unsaid? Which affirmations of faith that are available to us do we not say? How do we shroud the fire of compassion, the flame of mercy, and the Light of the World in our personal lives, thoughts, words, and actions?

After telling the crowd of people listening that following him is not easy and brings division Jesus talks about something they can really understand: the weather. The geographic location of this narrative lends itself to Jesus’s speech: to the south was a desert. As such, when the south wind blew, the heat was coming in. The people of Jesus’s day knew this and understood what was coming. But they, not unlike the disciples, didn’t really get what he was talking about: the Kindom of God. Today it might sound something like this: “You hypocrites! You understand the weather! You have satellites and know when tropical depressions are forming off of Africa. You can monitor storm systems and air pressures and fronts of air, but don’t you see what’s going on here?” As the Evangelical Lutheran Church in American’s General Synod has just disbanded, our General Conference will convene next year, and The Episcopal Church’s General Convention will gather again in 2009, what new things are coming? Will the delegates – who will have The Weather Channel in their hotel rooms – listen to God’s new things? Or will they, like the disciples so many times, listen to only what they know and think is safe? May your fervent prayer be that they catch on fire with enthusiasm, even if as John Wesley suggests, that causes people to come from miles around to watch them burn.

I close with a song from The Faith We Sing that gives us instructions and hope. It tells us what to do now as we wait for what is to come. It reminds us of what we’ve been told to do and what we’ve been told will happen. This is David Haas’s “We Are Called”
Come! live in the light! Shine with the joy and the love of the Lord! We are called to be light for the [kindom], to live in the freedom of the city of God! Come! Open your heart! Show your mercy to all those in fear! We are called to be hope for the hopeless, so all hatred and blindness will be no more! Sing! Sing a new song! Sing of that great day when all will be one! God will reign and we'll walk with each other as sisters and brothers united in love!
And the refrain goes like this: We are called to act with justice. We are called to love tenderly. We are called to serve one another, to walk humbly with God.

In the name of the Holy and Triune God, Creator, Christ, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

1. Brazos, 2004. p. 23