Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Our Transforming Journey with God - Last Sunday of Epiphany

This sermon was preached at my field education site on 22 Feb 2009 on Transfiguration Sunday. I preached on the text of 2 Kings 2:1-12 and hoped I could grab the attention of the kids and keep the adults thinking about the grace found in the unfamiliar, using the story of Elijah, Elisha, and Shrek!

This morning, on this last Sunday after Epiphany, we gather as a community drawing close to the end of our seasonal journey through the light and joy of Epiphany. And as one season ends, so another begins this week as we mark the start of our Lenten journey on Ash Wednesday. As Christians, we are a pilgrim people, baptized in Christ and sent out with a mission; we are people on a journey. Each of our lives, individually and collectively, is marked with a series of journeys that begin and end and begin again. And if we are able to attentively engage our journeys through life with an open mind and a discerning heart, we will discover the transforming power of Christ present in our lives.

One of my favorite stories is about the transforming journey of a cantankerous and curmudgeonly character seeking a life of simple solitude. The character’s name is Shrek and perhaps many of us are familiar with the story of this lonely Ogre. Shrek is quite content in the swamp he calls home until he is disturbed by the unwanted invasion of displaced fairy tale creatures. Unable to scare his uninvited guests away, Shrek is forced to confront the local prince that sent these creatures into his swamp. We soon discover that the prince is on a journey of his own; an earthly journey of transforming his princely power into that of a king, but first, he must have a bride. And so, Shrek and the prince strike a bargain: Shrek will journey into lands unknown and bring back the fair maiden and the prince will grant Shrek a quiet and peaceful swamp. Once the bargain is made, the story’s focus turns to a familiar journey…a journey that we have all likely heard many times. The beautiful princess is trapped in a castle and is cursed to live a lonely life until she is saved by the handsome knight in shining armor. Shrek’s journey follows this very common formula and, with a few exceptions we might be tricked in to thinking that there is not much more to the story than the familiar tale we have heard many times. But this journey has many odd twists to it: Shrek is obviously not a handsome prince: he is the ugly and fearsome Ogre…the “other” that the townspeople despise; and the beautiful princess is beautiful during the day but she has a terrible secret: when the sun goes down, she becomes an ugly Ogre herself…and she is told that her odd curse will remain until she finds her true love. Shrek and the Princess are cast in roles very well known to us, but with their oddly unique characteristics, we are confronted with the tension of the familiar against the unfamiliar; things known to us against things unknown; and if we, like Shrek and the Princess, dare to live in to this tension, we might just be transformed along the journey.

Our first scripture lesson this morning is also a transforming journey story of two prophets well known to us: Elijah and Elisha. This story is surrounded by endings and new beginnings: the previous chapter of 2 Kings tells of the death of King Ahaziuh and the following chapter begins the story of King Jehoram; and within the scripture lesson, we hear of the end of the prophetic mission of Elijah and the commissioning of Elisha. The story also contains an abundance of familiar places and themes in the life of the Jewish people. Elijah leads us on a journey through the familiar cities of Bethel and Jericho and dramatically crosses the River Jordan on dry ground, separating the waters with his mantle. The geography and actions of Elijah’s journey recall the actions of Moses and Joshua and hold great significance in Jewish religious events celebrated throughout the year. However, Elijah’s journey also contains some curious details that should make us scratch our heads and think a bit. Throughout the journey, Elijah continues to tell Elisha to stay behind as he ventures forward to the next city, even though he is fully aware that Elisha is his committed and devout disciple. The prophets along the journey continue to tell Elisha that his master will soon depart, implying that the prophet Elisha just might not know; and Elisha oddly responds, “Yes, I know; be silent.” And finally, the story climaxes with Elisha’s request for a “double share of Elijah’s spirit;” a request that would be familiar because the eldest son always inherited a double share of his father’s estate according to Jewish law. Elijah responds, “You have asked a hard thing; yet, if you see me as I am being taken from you, it will be granted you; if not, it will not.” Elijah’s reply is curious because we hear the Lord speak to Elijah earlier in 1 Kings, the Lord says to Elijah: “You shall anoint Elisha son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place.” (1 Kings 19:16) The scripture lesson goes on to say that Elijah and Elisha continued “walking and talking.” They continued onward: one journey ending, one journey beginning. They continued onward in the tension of the familiar and unfamiliar. And even though Elisha knew that he had been anointed as prophet in place of Elijah, he kept watching and crying out as Elijah was taken up to be with his Lord. When Elijah was no longer visible, Elisha mourned and then began his mission of prophecy to the Jewish people.

This morning we also heard Mark’s account of the Transfiguration of Christ; the dazzling white transformation of the Son of Man – a lesson we always hear on this Sunday of the church year. The Transfiguration, which is the in-breaking of the transforming glory of Christ, and Elisha’s story both point to the transforming action of God in our midst. Elisha’s story is important to us on this last Sunday of Epiphany because the lesson highlights the significance of paying attention to the unfamiliar in the midst of the familiar. Elisha’s journey provides us with a wonderful example of a faithful servant of God who is patient and attentive to the very end. Although Elisha had already been anointed to inherit Elijah’s place of prophetic leadership, he does not abandon the journey, but instead embraces the mystery of the unfamiliar. Elisha’s example serves as a model to us as we journey together in Christ.

The story of Shrek and the beautiful princess nearly concludes exactly as we might imagine: Shrek returns to the quiet and loneliness of his swamp and the power hungry prince and the princess hold a grand wedding at the palace. But if that was simply the end, I suppose I wouldn’t be telling you the story this morning. As the journey is nearly over, Shrek is prompted to further reflection by his humorous and talkative travelling companion. Shrek has been aware of many unfamiliar aspects of his journey, but has convinced himself that the familiar and convenient actions of the past are simply the best course of action for the future. His reflections change his mind and, no longer stuck in the patterns of his past; he bursts out of his swamp (quite literally – on the back of a dragon) and transforms his life and the princess’ life forever.

We too have an opportunity to reflect on this passing season of Epiphany and search for the unfamiliar in the midst of the familiar. We have nearly 72 hours of “Alleluia’s” left to reflect and to keep watching until this season of Epiphany is out of sight. And then on Wednesday, may we begin our Lenten journeys and follow Christ; and may we be mindful that in the midst of our Lenten journey, we are called to seek not only what is familiar but what is unfamiliar; we are called to seek not only those things that are known to us, but also those things that are unknown. On the very edge of the familiar sits the wonder and mystery of the unfamiliar and it is in the tension between the familiar and unfamiliar that we are transformed by the power of Christ. As we end this season of Epiphany and prepare to walk with Christ on a Lenten journey that leads to the cross and the resurrection of Easter, may we have the courage to seek out the unfamiliar things and be transformed forever. Amen.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

"The Presence of God" - Proper 24A

The text of Exodus 33:12-24, my first attempt on preaching from OT scripture. I think I survived the experience and hope I gave the congregation something to think about, particularly in these tough times when it would be so easy to focus on worldly concerns and forget about God and neighbor.

For as many years as I can remember, baseball has been one of my favorite sports. Beyond the joy of simply watching the game, I enjoy the “sport” of engaging others in the exciting debate of naming the greatest players of all time. Growing up in Connecticut as an avid Red Sox fan, names like Ted Williams, Carl Yastrzemski, and Carlton Fisk fill my list of the game’s greatest players…although I will concede that there might be room for a few other names on that list, including a spot or two for that team that plays in the Bronx. What I remember most about those baseball debates was the need to identify the essence of the player’s greatest quality. Often these central characteristics became common nicknames: Ted Williams was “The Splendid Splinter” and Reggie Jackson was “Mr. October.” We commonly identify and remember the key points of songs, movies and stories in the same manner. The story of the Exodus is undoubtedly one of the greatest stories in the Bible and in today’s scripture reading I think we hear Moses articulate the story’s key point: the necessity of the presence of God. The presence of God is central to the life of the Israelite people and because the Exodus story is our story, the presence of God is central to us as well.
Throughout the past several weeks we have re-lived many of the key elements of the Exodus story: the high points (the birth of Moses and the parting of the sea) and the low points (the Israelites’ grumbling for food and water and their questioning of God’s faithfulness to the promise He made to them). Last week we heard the well-known story of the “golden calf,” I believe one of the lowest points of the entire Exodus story. The Israelite people, impatiently waiting for Moses to return from the mountain top, take matters into their own hands and create the golden calf. God is angered, but Moses is able to plea with God and protects the Israelites from God’s full wrath. Our reading last week ended here, but the story continues with Moses’ anger against the people, smashing the Commandment tablets to the ground; showing not only his anger, but the destruction the people have inflicted on their covenant with God, which the tablets symbolize. After taking action against the people, Moses again hears from God and the news is not good. God will send an angel to direct the Israelites on their journey to the Promised Land, but God will not be present among them because they are a stiff-necked people (Ex 33:2-3). Moses realizes that without the presence of God, the Israelite people are not the Israelite people. This morning, our reading begins with Moses again pleading with God to reconsider his action to withhold His presence from the people. God grants Moses his request, saying “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest” (Ex 33:14). Even after hearing this good news, Moses reiterates the importance of God’s presence by responding, “If your presence will not go, do not carry us up from here” (Ex 33:15). Moses successfully intercedes on behalf of the Israelite people, who have transgressed against God in two important ways: in their impatience for Moses’ return from the mountain, they pursue their own timeline and not God’s; and by creating the golden calf (an untimely creation of human means), they subvert God’s will and satisfy their own desires. Both actions remove them from the presence of God.
As the Israelite people impatiently wait at the base of the mountain and finally choose to pursue their own agenda (and absent themselves from the presence of God), we can be certain that they were not busy surfing the internet; they were not driving in commuter traffic while talking on their cell phones; and they were not rushing through the grocery store in order to get home on time. Please don’t misunderstand me, the Israelite people certainly had their challenges, but so do we. Our world has become hyper-sensitive to time and the rapid delivery of information. Presidential debates have barely concluded before a scientifically selected subgroup provides us with feedback; the economic crisis swings back and forth as real-time global stock information is relayed across the wires; and iPhones and Blackberries ensure that no one is ever too far from being connected with the world. But how connected are we with things that are not “of this world?” How able are we to slow down and become present to the presence of God if we are not even able to patiently live in this world?
We are creatures of this world, but we are more than just that. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, in his discussion of the “Essence of Man” writes, “Man is more than what he is to himself. In his reason he may be limited, in his will he may be wicked, yet he stands in a relationship to God which he may betray but not sever and which constitutes the essential meaning of his life. He is the knot in which heaven and earth are interlaced.”
[i] The knot in which heaven and earth are interlaced. Rabbi Heschel’s metaphorical knot is fascinating and provides powerful insight to our relationship with God and the meaning of our lives. A knot, by its very nature, is held together by the interaction and tension of two things. The more closely the two objects draw together, the greater the tension, but the knot becomes stronger and more effective. Part of our nature resists this tension (a tight knot might be binding and constraining – threatening to our freedom), but another part of our nature welcomes this closer relationship (especially if we consider the knot to be the tight embrace of a loved one). There are also difficult times in our lives (perhaps even now, with so many domestic and foreign challenges in our world), that we tend to focus primarily on the earthly strand of the knot. Our focus slips and the knot becomes loose. As the knot begins to come apart, the heavenly strand seems so far away; the counter-balance, the close relationship, the tension that makes a knot a knot seems to be lost. But Rabbi Heschel reminds us that we stand in relationship to God and we may never sever the line that brings us into the presence of God. During these difficult times, instead of trying to create our own outcome with a single earthly strand, we need to pull close to the presence of God and allow God to pull the knot tight again.
To be in the presence of God and allow God to pull the knot tight again is exactly what Moses understood as he pleaded for God’s presence. God finds favor with Moses and places him in the “cleft of the rock” so that he may be present as God’s glory passes by. However, Moses is still limited in his humanity and cannot see God’s face and live, so God protects and cares for Moses as He passes by. Both “presence” and “face” are translated from the Hebrew root word “paniym” [paw-neem’], which I think shows the delicate nuance of being in God’s presence and the loving-kindness that God gives to each of us: God’s presence is necessary for us; God’s face is too much for us, but God will take care of us. God is in charge; God “will be gracious to whom He will be gracious and will show mercy to whom He will show mercy.” God will not only take care of us, but He expects that we will take care of each other. We know this to be true because Christ, the Incarnate Word of God, tells us so. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” (Mt 22:37-40) Jesus refers to the teaching of the Shema and adds the love of neighbor to be clear of His expectations for us.
I remember when those lively “greatest baseball player, EVER” debates were over; we did not limit our energy to simply admiring those players and their qualities. We wanted to be just like those players: we wanted to hit like them, to pitch like them, to be on the greatest team, like them. God is calling us to be on His team and He has sent His only Son to be our Redeemer and to be present to us so that we may be present to God. And God is calling us, in the midst of our hectic and busy lives to be present to each other, so that we may become a tapestry of knots, in communion with each other.
Evelyn Underhill captures the power and the promise of presence in her prayer, “To be Refreshed by Christ’s Presence.” Let us pray:
“O blessed Jesus Christ, who didst bid all who carry heavy burdens to come to Thee, refresh us with Thy Presence and Thy Power. Quiet our understandings and give ease to our hearts, by bringing us close to things Infinite and Eternal. Open to us the mind of God that in His light we may see light. And crown Thy choice of us to be Thy servants by making us springs of strength and joy to all whom we serve.”
[ii] Amen.
[i] Abraham Joshua Heschel, Man is Not Alone: A Philosophy of Religion, (New York: Farrar, Straus & Young, Inc., 1951), 211.
[ii] Evelyn Underhill, Love’s Redeeming Work: The Anglican Quest for Holiness, compiled by Geoffrey Rowell, Kenneth Stevenson, and Rowan Williams, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 574. [from Underhill, The Mount of Purification, (London, 1960) 93.]

Monday, September 22, 2008

"God’s Abundant Justice – A Challenge to Our American Dream" - Proper 20A

Preached at my field ed site on 21 September 2008. Preached on the Gospel text of Mt 20:1-16 (The laborers in the vineyard - the last will be first and the first will be last).

American statesman and publisher Benjamin Franklin wrote the following advice in his 1757 edition of Poor Richard’s Almanac; “Diligence is the mother of good luck…and God gives all things to industry. Then plow deep while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and to keep.”[i] Franklin’s humorous, yet insightful bits of wisdom profoundly shaped the growing English colonies that would one day become the United States of America. These pithy proverbs would form the backbone of what we would today describe as “the American Dream.” Work hard, save your money and then spend your money wisely so that you and your family may enjoy the fruits of your labor. There appears to be an obvious justice at work here: those who work hard get something in return. Those who work harder get more than those who work less. This simple formula for the “American Dream” appears to be shared by those early morning laborers in our Gospel lesson this morning, but Jesus’ parable story highlights a very different form of justice. Jesus presents us with a justice of abundance; a justice of love; a justice full of God’s grace. Like my son’s calculus homework, Jesus’ formula appears to be more complicated for us to imagine.
Several years ago I accepted a job promotion that made it necessary for my family to move from our familiar (and familial) home in New England to the unknown suburbs of Chicago. After careful research and thoughtful consideration, we finally moved to a town that is well known, well respected and highly rated for its schools and services. The town is highly rated because many industrious and successful people live there…and they have worked very hard to achieve this success. Shortly after moving to the town, an interesting experience revealed the diligence of those in our new community. Carol and I were planning to attend our first parade and we had heard in advance of the popularity of these parades. “Arrive early,” we were advised by many of our friends. The night before the parade we happened to be driving through the downtown area and were surprised to see that people had already set out lawn chairs on the side of the road…some 12 hours in advance. The next morning we arrived about 30 minutes prior to the start of the parade, hoping to find some spare patch of land to claim as our own. We slowly made our way down Main Street and finally found an acceptable spot in front of one of the Main Street shops. We would need to stand throughout the parade, but the sidewalk was wide enough to accommodate several rows of people…of which we formed the back row. The parade began to pass by with Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts and marching bands and antique cars. As the various groups marched by, Carol and I moved left and moved right in an effort to peer through the crowd. After several minutes of moving left and moving right in an effort to see the parade, I became more aware of the people in front of me: the comfort of their seats, the ease of their unobstructed view, the apparent value of their early morning arrival on Main Street. And just at that moment, the rain began to fall! Even though the weather forecast had predicted rain; even though the charcoal clouds had threatened rain; even though we were in Chicago in the springtime…the rain was unwanted, unexpected and unfair to the good order and discipline of the neatly arranged crowd.
Unwanted, unexpected and unfair: words that likely resonate with the early morning vineyard laborers in our Gospel lesson this morning. The early morning laborers are industrious folks and are at the right place at the right time for the early arrival of the landowner. For their “hard work” of proper planning, those early morning laborers start their grueling day at 6am and are promised a full day’s pay: one denarius. The laborers who start at 9am, noonday, and 3pm are offered compensation as well, but they are promised to earn only “whatever is right.” The last group work for a mere hour and no talk of compensation is made to these laborers. As the day in the vineyard draws to a close, the laborers are gathered for their pay: “beginning with the last and then going to the first.” As the last laborers and those who have joined throughout the day receive their “full day’s pay,” we might imagine the building excitement of the laborers who have been hired first. Surely, they will receive more than these last ones. We should remember that Matthew’s Gospel account presents lessons where faithful and industrious servants are richly rewarded. The parable continues, “Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage. And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner.” (Mt 20:10-11a) Jesus’ story begins to turn upside-down, as a parable should. This once “happy” story of laborers receiving much needed daily wages turns into a group of unhappy people grumbling against the landowner because they “thought they would receive more.” We hear “thought they would receive more” in our text this morning. Some translations say “they supposed” or more strongly “they expected” to receive more. The Greek word “nomi,zw” (nom-id'-zo) can be translated to mean any of these English words and means to assume or suppose a certain outcome is likely based on the customs of the day. Like us, the laborers develop their thoughts, their expectations from their surrounding society. Their simple formula of justice based on hard work is a justice that certainly can be fair, but their understanding is also a justice that can be limiting and narrow in its scope. Jesus tells this parable from his understanding of the abundant and gracious love of his Father. Jesus reveals that God’s justice knows no limits and is anything but narrow in scope.
“So the last will be first, and the first will be last.” (Mt 20:16) Stanley Hauerwas, in his commentary on this parable, addresses the interesting process of paying the laborers at the end of the day. Hauerwas writes, “If [the landowner] had begun paying those hired first they would not have known that all were being paid at the same rate. God’s grace is the grace of truth refusing to hide from us the character of our envy of those whom we think undeserving.”
[ii] Hauerwas’ insight of “God’s grace of truth” reveals a critical element of Jesus’ parable story. The truth is revealed as the early morning laborers see that everyone is paid the same. The truth is revealed as the landowner faithfully responds to their grumbling, speaking to one laborer from the crowd, “Friend, I am doing you no wrong.” (Mt 20:13a) The truth is revealed as the simple justice of the hard work of the vineyard is transformed by the grace-filled justice of abundance. God’s grace of truth; God’s grace of truth and love is extended to each of us everyday as we live through the tension between the justice of hard work and the justice of abundant love. God is with us as we struggle between the sometimes narrow justice of the “American Dream” and the wide-open justice of the “Heavenly Dream.”
Unwanted, unexpected and unfair: the rain continued to fall on the parade that morning, but Carol and I never did get wet. Although we were in the last row of parade spectators, we were in the first row of people covered by the store-front awning above. The parade continued; the rain continued; and all the early morning parade watchers got out of their seats and took their position behind us, under the cover of the awning. Before the rain fell, every person sat or stood in accordance to their “first-come-first-serve” position. The crowd was orderly, but stranger did not talk to stranger. However, after the chaotic rain was released on this well ordered crowd; conversations spilled across social boundaries, laughter filled the air as folding chairs dripped with rain water, and strangers took turns standing in the front row as their children proudly marched down the street. The simple justice of hard work had been transformed by the grace-filled justice of abundance. “Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure.” (Collect for Proper 20) Amen.


[i] Benjamin Franklin, The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard’s Almanac and Other Papers (New York: A.L. Burt Company Publishers, 1900), 222.
[ii] Stanley Hauerwas, Matthew (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2006), 177.

Monday, June 23, 2008

"Christian Discipleship in Community – The Way of the Cross" - Proper 7A

Preached at Calvary Episcopal Church, Stonington, CT, while I was serving a summer internship. I have learned much at Calvary Church and it was great to have the opportunity to preach there.

Throughout this past week I have been reading and reflecting on the scripture lessons as I prepared to preach today. These particular lessons have some difficult words to hear, I think, but words that enlighten us to an understanding of discipleship. Not just any discipleship, but Christian discipleship. And not just any Christian discipleship, either, but Christian discipleship in community. For me, these words are timely indeed, as I have recently joined the community of Calvary Church, the community of Stonington and its surrounding area. I think, perhaps, these words are timely for all of us as we enter the summer season on the CT shore and we experience a time when our habits can change, our community can change, and our focus on living together as Christian disciples can change.
Today is June 22 and if it were any other day of the week than a Sunday, we would be celebrating the feast of Saint Alban. Saint Alban is remembered as the first martyr of the British Isles, living some 1700 or 1800 years ago. A Roman soldier, living in a small town about 20 miles north of London, Alban heard a knock on his door one evening. After opening the door, he discovered a Christian priest standing at his doorstep. The priest was running away from the local Roman authorities who hoped to make an example of him by executing him for not pledging allegiance to the Emperor. Although a Roman soldier, Alban took pity on the priest and allowed him to hide in his house. During the few days that the priest stayed with Alban, the two had long discussions about the Christian faith and Alban became a Christian follower. During these days, the two unlikely roommates formed a new Christian community because every time we gather we are in community. The Roman authorities finally showed up at Alban’s house and Alban put on the priest’s cloak to trick the authorities and protect the priest. Alban was taken away, prosecuted, and when he refused to deny his Christian faith, was sentenced to death. Alban’s final confession to his executioner was so powerful that he converted the man, and so both were put to death when the executioner refused to kill Alban. Both men in this story showed incredible courage and fortitude and made decisions that, fortunately, very few of us will ever have to make. But the words of Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel account still speak to us and still challenge us in our journey of discipleship to Christ.
I mentioned earlier that some of the words of this morning’s Gospel lesson are difficult to hear. I think some proof of this is captured in the fact that Jesus cautions his disciples 3 times: “Have no fear of them;” “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul;” and “Even the hairs of your head are all counted, so do not be afraid.” I can remember times as a young boy or even times in the Navy when I wasn’t really afraid until someone in authority kept telling me to not be afraid…maybe I had something to be afraid about, but I was just too naïve to notice or to understand. Jesus fully understands the difficulties inherent in the life of Christian discipleship and he also understands the temptation to back away from those challenges and take the easy, well traveled road. Of this road, Jesus says, “Whoever denies me before others, I also will deny before my Father in heaven.” Difficult words for us to hear, but again, “do not be afraid,” says Jesus. The Gospel lesson continues with more disconcerting news about family relationships and a caution about the priorities of one’s focus of love. “Whoever loves father or mother, son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.” More difficult words to hear, but again, “do not be afraid,” says Jesus. Finally, we are told that “whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.” “Do not be afraid,” says Jesus. Do not be afraid because we are Christian disciples in community. Do not be afraid because although the words of Jesus may challenge our understanding of a loving family and community, the truth of His words only deepen and strengthen the love of family and community. Do not be afraid because Jesus’ challenge to us is the very heart and soul of what it means to be Christian disciples in community.
Thomas Jefferson, a man of incredible intellect and ability, whose accomplishments throughout his life include President of the United States, founder of the University of Virginia, and author of the Declaration of Independence, was also author of a book entitled, “The Life and Morals of Jesus of Nazareth.” Jefferson, a self-proclaimed Christian, but a man also deeply rooted in the scientific and reasoned thinking of the Enlightenment, authored this book as his reasoned understanding of the life of Jesus. The book became known as “The Jefferson Bible” and is a compilation of the four Gospel accounts, but without miracles, without “superstitions” (as Jefferson would call them), and without any hint that Jesus was anything more than simply the most moral man that ever walked the face of the earth. Although there is much to admire in a collected work of Jesus’ morals and system of ethics, Jefferson’s account presents us with soothing words of moral piety and strips clean the rocky road that is the way of the cross. This morning, we worship before the cross and remember that the cross is not only the sign of the Risen Christ, but serves to remind us of our lives as Christian disciples; Christian disciples in community.
William Temple, former Archbishop of Canterbury and Anglican theologian, describes the life of discipleship with a wonderful analogy. Temple creates an image of an oval with two foci, or two points of focus. One point is our personal desires and the other point of focus is God’s will for us. We continue to live our lives from our own point of focus (because we are sinners), but the life of Christian discipleship is a prayerful journey that hopefully moves us closer to the point of focus that is God’s will. As our point of focus draws closer to God’s point of focus, the oval slowly becomes a circle. Temple acknowledges that the two points will likely never completely overlap in our imperfect, human existence, but that certainly is the goal for all Christian disciples. I think Temple’s image is exactly what Jesus is telling his disciples at the close of our Gospel reading today, “Those who find their lives will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Those who live their lives from their own perspective, from their own point of focus (without any desire to search for and move towards the focus that is God’s will), will never discover the joy that comes from approaching the unity of focus and the perfect circle of Christ. However, those disciples that take up their cross and search for the focus that is God’s will for them will find the joy of Christ’s love; they will discover the love of father and mother, of son and daughter, of neighbor and community, but they will discover this love in the context of and from the focus of Christ.
The story of Saint Alban concludes with the journey of the priest, who was so upset about the news of Alban’s death he journeyed out in to the community to discover if the news was true. The news was true and the authorities found the priest and he suffered the same end that Alban met. The journey of Christian discipleship is not always the easiest journey; not always the smoothest road to travel, but do not be afraid. We travel the road with Christ; we travel the road together, in community. The words from our Gospel lesson, which may seem so hard to hear, are words that teach us, strengthen us and unite us in community. If we neglect these challenging lessons, we risk turning discipleship into personal piety; we risk leading our lives from our focus and not Christ’s focus, and we risk living lives that do not consider the cross of Christ. As our collect for Guidance in the Prayer Book says: “We humbly pray you so to guide and govern us by your Holy Spirit, that in all the cares and occupations of our life we may not forget you, but remember that we are ever walking in your sight.”

Amen

"Preparation for the a life of Discipleship" - 7th Sunday of Pentecost

This sermon was preached on 4 May 2008 (at Immanuel Church-on-the-Hill), on the 7th Sunday of Pentecost, Year A.

This morning, we gather together on the 43rd day of this Easter season. Why state the day so precisely you might wonder…the 43rd day of the 50 days of Easter. I begin in this way because this past Thursday was the 40th day of Eastertide: the day we celebrate the Ascension of Jesus Christ; and this coming Sunday is the celebration of Pentecost: the culmination of the Easter season and the celebration of the Holy Spirit descending upon the disciples. As we stand in between these two important days and draw close to the end of this Easter season, we can be easily drawn toward the exciting events of Pentecost. But today; today we hear the equally exciting story of the Ascension of Jesus Christ. Today we reflect on the work accomplished by Christ as he prepared his disciples in those first 40 days; the work He works in us even today; the work that prepares us for a life of discipleship in Christ.
Throughout the Easter season our first reading has been a scripture lesson from Acts. This morning, our lesson is selected from the beginning of Acts and, not surprisingly, we hear the account of the Ascension of Christ. The lectionary begins the lesson with verse 6, but we gain additional insight by reading verse 3: “After Jesus’ suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God.” (Acts 1:3) In this verse, we learn that Jesus was resurrected and returned to teach and prepare his disciples for 40 days. The author of Acts wants us to understand the patient and intentional teaching Jesus provided to his disciples: 40 days holds great meaning in the Bible. Moses spent 40 days on Mount Sinai as he received the 10 Commandments and Jesus spent 40 days in the desert prior to beginning his earthly ministry. We, too, have spent the last 40 days of this Easter season hearing the stories of the early Church: Peter’s confident proclamation of Christ and the conversion of thousands of believers; marvelous and miraculous works by the Apostles; the tragic stoning of Stephen; and Paul’s inspiring speech to the Athenians regarding Christ’s reconciling work in the world. So, is that all we need? 40 days of careful study and we’re ready to graduate; ready for the fulfillment of Christ’s mission on earth?
If we ask this question, we are in good company. 40 days after the resurrection of Christ, we find the disciples asking Jesus, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” Interesting question. As many biblical commentaries point out, the disciples’ question does reveal that they understood the restorative nature of Christ’s mission. However, their emphasis on the time of the restoration and their failure to even wonder what role they might play prove that their understanding of discipleship was still growing. In other words, their question to Jesus was the age-old classic, “Are we there yet?”
Jesus responds to both elements of the disciples’ question: “is this the time” and “will you, Jesus, restore the kingdom.” Regarding the time, “it is not for you to know the times or the periods,” says Jesus. The English might appear to mean time, as measured by the clock or the calendar; and the periods, as measured by the changing times of the year or perhaps the passing of generations. But the Greek holds far greater meaning than the English might imply. Time or “chronos” in Greek is the chronological time of human history; and the periods, or “kairos” in Greek, is God’s time, God’s rightly ordered periods set in God’s time. These two words, taken together, mean that Jesus’ response is the ultimate, “don’t worry about it…discipleship is not measured by time.” Regarding the second element of the disciples’ question, (will you, Jesus, restore the kingdom) Jesus does not directly answer the disciples. He responds by pointing toward the empowering action of the Holy Spirit on that first day of Pentecost. Jesus tells the disciples they will be His witnesses and foretells of the great mission field that will spread to all ends of the earth. Jesus’ followers are identified by many names in scripture: disciples, apostles, and friends. But here, Jesus prophetically calls them witnesses, which is “martus” in Greek and has a range of meanings: a witness in a legal manner; a witness in an ethical manner; or a witness serving as a follower of a way of life – one who displays a genuine commitment, even to death. From the Greek “martus” we derive the English word martyr, meaning “to die for one’s cause.” Jesus called his followers witnesses because he understood the courageous and faithful life they had been called to lead. Discipleship may not be measured by time, but discipleship does require the faithful actions of a witness. Discipleship requires the power of the Holy Spirit and the strength and courage of Christian witness.
On September 11, 2001, Archbishop Rowan Williams was visiting Trinity Church, Wall Street, NY. In his short book, “Writing in the Dust,” Archbishop Williams presents some personal reflections about the fateful events of that day and the days that followed. In one particular section, the Archbishop reflects on the risks and honor that society gives to its heroes: those willing to risk everything for the success of the cause, whatever “that cause” might be. He continues his reflection with a description of the simple, yet courageous actions of the NYC police officers, firefighters, and security members throughout that frantic day; calmly providing direction to those around them, pointing people toward safety. Archbishop Williams writes, “It puts a different perspective on heroism for a moment. It tells us that heroism is not always bound up with drama, the sense of a Great Cause, but is something about doing what is necessary for a community’s health and security. For most of the time, this will be invisible.”
[1] Archbishop Williams continues, “Some people, in other words, practice living in the presence of death; not courting dramatic immortality through a cause, but as part of what will or may be necessary to serve the social body.”[2] Archbishop Williams’ thoughts capture much of what we need to understand about Christian discipleship. Although there are certainly some folks who will serve in far-off places and perform difficult tasks for the benefit of others; all of us are invited to serve each other; invited to serve the community; invited to serve the world in the simple, yet courageous actions of the ordinary, which often may appear to be invisible, but are, in fact, so powerful. Williams also implies what Jesus tells his disciples explicitly: the times and periods are not for you to know…discipleship doesn’t work by the clock. In other words, take action today because action is part of your Christian witness. Take action today, because people are in need, today. Take action today because we do not know the times or the periods of God’s plan for us.
Finally, our reading from Acts closes with the entire group of Jesus’ family and followers devoting themselves in prayer. Prayer provides dialogue with Christ. Prayer forms us and shapes us and opens our hearts to others. Evelyn Underhill, the early 20th century author and mystic, reflects on the words of Christ in one of her retreats, “‘For this came I into the world: to do the will of Him who sent me.’ That is the stated purpose of Christ, His saints, and His followers. It means courage, generosity, and patience if the job is to be done.”
[3] Underhill provides us insight that a prayerful life leads to continued relationship with Christ and grants the disciple what they need: courage, generosity, and patience; the practical tools for any Christian witness. Corporate and individual prayer is the practice that allows us to grow in our understanding of how to serve Christ and others. Prayer is the method of learning that takes us beyond the 40 days of initial preparation.
Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom of God? Lord, are we there yet? Today, we live in the tension that we are both here and not here. We live in the now, but not yet. We live in the now because Christ has been resurrected, the first fruits of those who have died (1Cor 15:20). But we also wait, and until Christ returns, coming in the same way as he ascended to his Father in heaven, we are his witnesses. As witnesses of Christ Jesus, may we devote ourselves to prayer, be empowered by the Holy Spirit and serve God, loving and serving others as Christ has prepared us during these 40 days of Easter.

Amen.

[1] Rowan Williams, “Writing in the Dust: After September 11,” Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2002, 43.
[2] Williams, “Writing in the Dust,” 43-44.
[3] Evelyn Underhill, “The Ways of the Spirit,” New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1990, 156.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

"Open your eyes and Journey with Christ" - 4th Sunday of Lent, Year A

This sermon, preached on the Gospel According to John, Chapter 9, was delivered at my field education site. All went well and I received great feedback, continuing to learn and improve my preaching skills...a never ending journey itself.

No name, no face, no brain. When I entered the US Naval Academy, one of the very first challenges I encountered was learning everyone’s name in a matter of just a few days. As difficult as this challenge might seem, the process of learning names was assisted by the requirement to wear name badges on your uniform…that is, of course, unless you forget to put your name badge on your uniform, in which case, you now had a new challenge. This new problem generally attracted immediate attention and disapproval. I know this to be true because one day I forgot to put on my name badge and was instructed to spend the following day yelling, “no name, no face, no brain” as I traveled through the hallways. As you might imagine, this instruction is not good for one’s general well-being. I was stopped several times and questioned about my bizarre chanting. On one occasion, after several questions my inquisitor leaned in close to my face and asked, “Why are you here?” I quickly responded, “To become a Naval Officer, sir.” “Really?” he continued, “what exactly does a Naval Officer do…I mean specifically, every day; do you even know?” That’s when the reality of my situation hit me. I was 18 years old; had just signed up for 9 years of Naval service (of which I had proudly served 72 hours); and I really had no idea what a Naval Officer did, but I was on that journey anyway. This morning’s Gospel lesson is a story about journeys: the journey of the blind man; the journey of his parents, the journey of the Pharisees, and our journey with Christ.
As we all have just heard, John’s account of the healing of the blind man is significantly longer than similar versions found in the Gospel accounts of Matthew, Mark or Luke. I am, however, especially fascinated by John’s account of the healing of the blind man because he differs from the healing stories found in the three synoptic Gospel accounts in two significant ways: first, Jesus initiates the healing without the blind man’s request; and second, John invites us to join the journey after the miracle of healing. If we take a closer look at these aspects of the story and reflect on their meaning, John presents us with some insightful lessons.
The Gospel lesson begins with the disciples asking Jesus why this man has been born blind…and the form of their question, “who sinned, the man or his parents,” reveals the apparent “blindness” of the disciples themselves. Jesus’ response both corrects the disciples’ misconception of the reason behind the man’s blindness and teaches them about the nature of God’s work. Here, we should stop and remember that this story is about both physical and spiritual blindness. The story then continues with Jesus saying, “As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world,” and then he proceeds to place a healing solution of mud on the man’s eyes, instructing the blind man to “go and wash in the pool of Siloam.” Imagine this scene: the blind beggar, perhaps asking for alms of some type and suddenly he experiences a healing mud pack spread across his dead eyes…and his eyes are still blind, even with the healing solution applied. He is told to go forth and wash in a pool of water. John’s account of this story has particular power, because the blind man must now choose: go forth and wash – or – take the edge of his garment and wipe away Jesus’ invitation to see; to be healed; to be a follower of Christ. Jesus has acted first, offering healing through his grace, but now the blind man must choose before he is able to see. The choice the blind man must consider is described by Dietrich Bonhoeffer when he says: “the first step places the disciple in the situation where faith is possible. If he refuses to follow and stays behind, he does not learn how to believe.”
[i] The blind man does take this first step and returns with the ability to see; he returns with the ability to believe; he returns to begin a life long journey, in Christ. The blind man’s life will forever be changed and, again, the power of John’s gospel account is that we are allowed to follow the blind man as he starts his courageous journey.
The man begins a journey with which he has absolutely no understanding or experience because he has been blind since birth. But the man’s journey does start with enough faith in Jesus to walk to the pool and return to testify to this miracle. C.S. Lewis, in his book Mere Christianity, highlights the type of faith and understanding that the man begins his journey with, as he writes, “After the first few steps in the Christian life we realize that everything which really needs to be done in our souls can be done only by God.”
[ii] The remainder of the Gospel lesson is an intriguing comparison of the blind man’s journey and his growing awareness of Jesus; contrasted against the journey of the Pharisees and their growing blindness of Jesus. The man, no longer blind, begins an enlightening journey of spiritual growth: progressing from not knowing where Jesus had gone to finally worshiping Jesus as the Son of Man. Throughout the story we can see the man’s vision becoming clearer and his belief in Jesus becoming stronger. What can we learn from his journey and how can it help us as we travel through our Lenten journey?
First, we notice that throughout the story, the man grows in understanding and draws closer to Jesus by asking and answering questions about his experience. We can also grow in understanding and develop a closer relationship with Jesus through the practice of prayer. Prayer is an opportunity to both express our desires to God and to examine our relationships with God and others. Our Lenten series of Benedictine spirituality is one example of how we might develop a new discipline of prayer and draw closer to God.

We also notice as we listen to the Gospel story, that the man’s faith provides him with increasing strength and courage. Frank Wade’s advice to us at Sam’s Installation service, “do not be afraid to offend or to fail,”[iii] seemed to resonate with me as I reflected on this Gospel passage. The man is courageously taking risks as he travels on his new journey and is not afraid to engage the Pharisees in open and honest conversation. In this way, the man has successfully lived his Christian witness, as compared to his parents, who hide in fear. We, too, can grow in strength by boldly stretching ourselves in new ways, gaining new experiences and bearing witness to our Christian faith. Our Mission team to the Dominican Republic and Barney’s trip to distant parts of the Anglican Communion are examples of new experiences that we may all learn from as they share their insights with us and help us to expand our understanding of the body of Christ.
No name; no face; no brain. If our eyes are open as we travel along our Lenten journey on the road to Easter morning, we realize these words are false. Each of us has a name; a name given to us in Baptism. Each of us has a face; a face known by God and marked as Christ’s own for ever. Each of us has a brain; a mind given to us by God so that we may know that in Him, we live and move and have our being; and we may remember that we are ever walking in his sight.
Amen

[i] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship, translated by R.H. Fuller, (New York: Touchstone Publishing, 1959), p. 62.
[ii] C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1952). P. 165.
[iii] The Rev. Dr. Frank Wade, from his sermon delivered at the installation of The Rev. Dr. M.A. Faeth, Rector, Immanuel Church-on-the-Hill, Alexandria, VA, 02-17-2008.

Thursday, February 7, 2008

“Stop, listen, and be transformed by the glory of Christ” - Last Sunday of Epiphany

Delivered at my home parish in the Chicago Diocese on the Sunday before Lent, 2008. It was great to be home and even more exciting to be given the opportunity to preach at both Sunday services.

“Who says you can’t go home!” Although those words from the Bon Jovi song played at my going away party still seem to be fresh in my mind, I am also aware that many months have passed since that day and I am very glad to be back home with you today. The thought that I am now more than half way through my seminary journey is surprising…and the journey, itself, has been full of surprises. The first year was a time of adjustments: new schools, new careers, new people, and obviously a new place to live. After a challenging first year of academic studies, I was looking forward to my summer of Clinical Pastoral Education in a continuing care retirement community. I was excited to finally get my head out of the books and to spend some time with people. As I started the summer program, I carefully considered key learning areas and developed my personal goals. As the weeks progressed, I realized that although my learning plan was well structured, I had not considered at least one critical element: My schedule did not provide the space to be surprised; the space to be amazed; the space to be transformed. As we hear Matthew’s Gospel account this morning, a small part of me can relate to Peter’s journey to the top of that high mountain. Peter and his friends unexpectedly encounter the glory of Christ, the Transfiguration, and struggle to make meaning of the significance of their experience. Peter, characteristically, does not hesitate to respond to this dramatic event, but what might we learn from Peter’s response? Our Gospel lesson today teaches Peter, and us, a valuable lesson (especially in these days leading up to Lent): stop, listen and be transformed by the glory of Christ. If only I had listened to this lesson before starting my summer program of CPE.
My experience during CPE was consistent with current data studies: women live longer than men. Throughout my summer program, I was assigned to regularly visit more than 20 residents, all of whom were women except for about 3 men. I had several wonderful conversations with the women, both individually and in various group settings, but the men were more difficult to get to know. There was one man in particular that I thought I would approach, but I was cautioned by my supervisor that he was very intelligent and I would first have to “earn my stripes” if I was to be accepted and trusted by him. After a few short “hallway” visits, I asked if I might visit him sometime and he agreed. When the day finally arrived, I left my basement office and climbed up to the “high mountain” of his third floor apartment. After exchanging some simple pleasantries and answering his questions about the rigors of student chaplaincy, he asked me, “Patrick, when did slavery end?” Although I was caught a bit off-guard, I thought: this is the question!...this is my “test.” Wasting no time, I launched in with my best explanation. “Well, I suppose the answer depends on one’s perspective,” I said, trying to cover all my bases. “President Lincoln ended slavery with the Emancipation Proclamation; however, I doubt many Southerners of that time period would agree. So, I guess I would say slavery ended some time during the Civil War.” Rather proud of my answer, I waited for his response. “Approximately, what year do you think slavery ended?” he continued. Without pausing for even a moment, I confidently replied, “Sometime during the mid 1860’s I suppose.” He thought for a moment and replied, “I thought that’s what you might say, and that’s not true.” NOT TRUE! I was stopped short. The Civil War is one of my favorite history subjects. How could my answer not be true? I had been taught that answer many years ago by some pretty reliable teachers…and now the answer had changed? What happens to us when the answers we have been taught no longer apply to the circumstances we face? How do we respond? In our Gospel lesson today, Peter finds himself in just such a dilemma – his response is found lacking.
The reading begins with an introductory note that the trip to the mountain top starts 6 days after Peter acknowledges Jesus as the Christ. Peter’s acknowledgment of Jesus as the Christ is told in Matthew Chapter 16 and Peter’s acknowledgment is followed by Jesus’ first prediction of his passion in Jerusalem. Jesus’ prediction of his suffering and death is met with strong protest by Peter because the prevailing Jewish understanding of the Messiah did not include suffering and death, only glory and might like King David. Jesus rebukes Peter and tells him that his mind is not set on divine things, but on earthly things. Six days before the Transfiguration, everything Peter has been taught doesn’t seem to make sense anymore.
With these thoughts still swirling in his head, Peter joins James and John on a trip led by Jesus up the side of a high mountain. The disciples may not have known why Jesus has brought them to the top of this mountain, but Matthew specifically tells us that this is a “high” mountain. And in the Bible, important events take place at high altitudes: representing that place between heaven and earth. Suddenly, Jesus is transfigured and is seen by the disciples, speaking with Moses and Elijah. As amazing as these events might seem to us, Peter is not yet overcome with fear and he is able to offer to build 3 dwelling places. As strange as Peter’s offer might appear, we again must remember that Peter’s response is grounded in prevailing Jewish thought. During the Exodus, people, priests, and religious articles were housed in tents or dwellings; and before the Temple was built, the Ark of the Covenant was housed in a tent. Peter seeks to provide a reverent memorial to the Transfiguration based on his Jewish formation, based on his previous understanding; but the bright cloud interrupts Peter and the voice stops him short.
The bright cloud envelopes the group and speaks the same words spoken at Jesus’ Baptism, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” The voice stops Peter and commands him to “listen.” Listen to my Son. Listen to the Logos, to the word of God. Only after hearing the voice are the disciples afraid. They are afraid, in the sense of awed reverence, because they have heard the word of God. The disciples are then comforted by Jesus with a touch and with his words. When they rise again, they see no one except for Jesus, but they are no longer the same as they once were. They are no longer the same because they have experienced the glory of Christ, they have been given the word of God and they have been blessed by Jesus. They have been transformed to a new understanding because they have allowed themselves to listen and learn the way of Christ.
If I had allowed myself to listen, I would have known that the question was, “when did slavery end?;” not “when did slavery end in the United States?” The answer is “slavery has never ended”…unfortunately; the practice of slavery is alive and taking its toll on millions of lives. According to some statistics, there are as many as 26 million people held in slavery around the world today.[i]
One of my original learning goals was to experience regular visitations with people who are in assisted living and develop a deeper understanding of how to reconcile them with the outside community and provide pastoral care. After allowing myself to stop and listen to these folks, I realized that many of them were already reaching out to the community and making a difference. The reason this man asked me about slavery is because he is working closely with his son and his son’s church in New York City to raise awareness of global slavery and find ways to eliminate slavery forever. After my conversation with him, I realized my learning goals were deeply rooted in my personal learning biases and, as he was surfing the internet and seeking to eradicate global slavery, I was offering to build 3 dwellings and seeking to achieve my learning objectives. As I descended the mountain of his 3rd floor apartment and returned to my basement office, I realized that I had received a gift from my 90 year old friend – I needed to stop, listen and be transformed by the glory of Christ. I needed to adjust my schedule to allow time to stop and listen; to allow time to be surprised; to allow time to be transformed.
As we enter Lent next week, we are all invited on a 40 day journey that leads to the top of a high place…a hill called Calvary, where Jesus died for us. We are invited to walk with Christ and be transformed by His glory; to be changed forever by his death and resurrection. We are encouraged to stop, listen and be transformed by the glory of Christ. And if, in the midst of our transformation journey, we find ourselves on the ground and overcome with fear, remember: Christ will be with us; Christ will bless us; and Christ will be here to say, “Get up and do not be afraid.” The Transfiguration of Christ reveals His glory and invites us to be transformed to a new life in His kingdom: “Who says you can’t go home!”
Amen


[i] “How many slaves are there?”, Anti-Slavery Society website, accessed 11/30/2007. http://www.anti-slaverysociety.org/slavery.htm