Look at Proper 21 Year C

I was able to dodge the bullet of talking about the "Shrewd Steward" last week, but I have to say that looking at the parable of "Poor Lazarus" feels overly safe. I'm left a bit uninspired is my meaning.

Where I have the most trouble is that this parable feels like one that we are too familiar with, and I worry that anything new or insightful could be offered at this point. My fear is that I'll wind myself up with discussing the perspectives of life after death that Jesus would have been working with in the First Century CE and never really get at any real "take home" lesson for people.

Truth to tell, I'm not all that thrilled about the other readings either. There isn't the kind of spark I like to get that leads me to getting my 'bite' and building a reasonable sermon. And that, I suppose, is why I'm here now. I'm hoping that this process will be something of a free-writing exercise to get me primed for developing a sermon that isn't wretched. However, I probably need to get all of the dross out of the system before really committing to developing a decent sermon. So, here I go...

As I intuited earlier, the parable seems to indicate what some of the popular beliefs of afterlife might have been in the First Century. However, I think it infers such belief rather than proscribes any particular belief. I would equate this to how today we tell jokes about post mortem experiences which lead to either eccentricities about the rules of the afterlife, or how profoundly ridiculous one's understanding of the afterlife could be...

I'm reminded of a number of jokes when reading this passage, but one in particular seems to fit best.

Three men die in an accident and stand at the pearly gates. St. Peter, looking at his book, realizes that these men weren't particularly bad, and given the tragic circumstances, Peter decided to give each of them a chance.

Setting the bar relatively low, St. Peter asked each man in turn if they knew the story of Easter. If they could simply tell him the story of Jesus' resurrection, Peter felt that he could get them into Heaven.

The first man said something about the Easter bunny bringing baskets to children, and Peter stopped him short. Shaking his head, Peter moved to the second man.

This man said that he was familiar with the Easter bunny and baskets, but he was pretty sure that there was also something to do with the beginning of summer and fertility. Peter, scratching his head sighed, and moved to the final man.

Crestfallen, Peter didn't allow himself to get to hopeful. However, the man started uncertainly after a pregnant moment. He said, "Oh yeah! I remember this! This is the story of the man Jesus who had been crucified, and died. They didn't have any money to bury him, and so a rich guy gave a tomb for Jesus to be buried..."  Peter became animated, and urged that man to continue, but the man seemed to be stuck, but the man finally continued. "And after three days...let me think...Jesus came back to life!" At this point Peter was elated and jumped up and down, but the man had not finished. The man continued, "so, after Jesus came back to life, he came out of the tomb, saw his shadow and ran back in, and it meant six more weeks of winter."

It's a pretty terrible joke. However, like Jesus' parable about Poor Lazarus, the theology is not meant to be sophisticated as much as a vehicle to make his point. That being said, the parable does refer to what would be a familiar or popular understanding about the afterlife. So, like the above joke, which makes reference to "pearly gates." "St. Peter," a book of names, et cetera; the parable of Jesus is tapping into pop theology rather than a strict form of belief.

But before I follow too many other rabbit trails, it's helpful to put this passage into some context. There is a section omitted in the chapter which connects this parable to the previous lesson about the "Shrewd Steward" (or however you might title that parable). Jesus is calling out the hypocrisy of the pharisees and other religious authorities. Not only does he encourage shrewdness in his disciples, but he says that the religious authorities are only concerned with money and power. He says that there are some (pharisees, Jesus is looking your way) who want to take the Kingdom of God by force. Jesus even goes so far as to say that these very things that the elitists favor, God abhors. He tells them that it's easier for Heaven and earth to pass away than it is for a stroke of a letter in the law to be dropped. This point he concludes by referencing that anyone who divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery--this, given the context appears to be inferring that the religious authorities have all but abandoned God, and are committing adultery with the promises of worldliness...

I happen to really enjoy reggae. The culture which shaped reggae is steeped in Rastafarianism, and an even deeper kind of liberation theology. The temptations of ambition, power, wealth, and fleshly desires are all considered part of the spirit of Babylon. This is a motif that is regularly used in Hebrew Scripture, and comes through reggae as a reminder that our home, for the time being, is far away, and we dwell presently in Exile--an exile like that of Israel in Babylon. In fact, this idea has informed the title of this blog. That and The Fugees.

Anyway, this belief that the way of God's Kingdom is under siege is an old one. In the reformation Jesus was bringing about there was a focus on how dangerous complacency was for religious people. Further, Jesus railed against the idea that legalism gave a pass to religious people to behave unjustly, unfairly, or to live as if they were a higher class of people. This sense of self-importance that the religious elite held gave them the impression that they ought to be judge of other people, and used their influence and prestige to control and rule over people as arbiters of God's Law and God's people. Jesus gainsaid this by pointing out that what happened in the hearts of these people, and many of their behaviors denied their claim of authority by purity.

This brings me finally to the parable of Poor Lazarus. Lazarus is a guy who is poor, and he sits outside the house of a rich man. The rich man, as culture understands, has 'got his own' and owes no one anything. He must be blessed by God. Lazarus on the other hand is poor and diseased. No one pities him except the dogs who come by and do what little they can to try to comfort Lazarus. The rich man, who has the means to help simply doesn't.

It's in the afterlife that we get the clearest view of these two men. Lazarus who is justified rests with Abraham, whereas the rich man is left in eternal torment. In this situation the religious pietism of the rich man comes through. He begs Abraham to command Lazarus to bring him a drop of water... Once again, Lazarus is not someone to be noticed, he is an entity without worth or agency of his own. Abraham denies the request, and after the rich man begs for Lazarus to be sent back (again Lazarus is never addressed) to warn his brothers, Abraham settles the issue. He states, they have Moses and the Prophets, if their words are not enough to convince them, even the resurrected dead couldn't have a chance.

It's a pretty tough lesson to learn for the rich man. What's more, when I read the parable, I'm almost inclined to want mercy for the rich man and his brothers. There is even part of me that feels like if Lazarus did show up, resurrected, the rich man's brothers would respond and change their ways. I mean, how could they ignore an undead guy? And yet...I wouldn't doubt they would ignore it. More than likely, they would rationalize it away like Scrooge tried to do in "A Christmas Carol". Sure, we're told that all of Nineveh (capitol city of Israel's oppressors) repented when Jonah finally told them to... Absolutely, Israel made a covenant with God which promised terrible recompense if they mistreated people, or were unjust in their dealings. And yet, it would seem the story of Israel's dysfunctional marriage to God is rife with exactly this type of unjust behavior. In fact, the sad reality is that we have had a messenger who has returned from the dead, and he has reiterated the imperative of doing justly, loving mercy and walking humbly before our God...and still. Still, within the Church we find this same kind of dangerous, poisonous, destructive complacency in people of faith. Truthfully, it's the secret we all know, but do we see it, and allow for it because we can't find our way to speak the truth? Do we feel the freedom--or even conviction--to speak out against the complacency, and the self-allowances that we know are rampant within the Church? Well...I don't know. But, I hope that for the sake of the Church we can find the courage to do it.  

"I'm a lazy sod..."

I'm quoting the Sex Pistols on this post to make the empty commitment that I will try to get my archived sermons up. The truth is I think I've become a better preacher since I wrote many of these. The trouble is that I no longer write my sermons down. There is part of me that feels that it's more appropriate to send out the words into the Universe, and allow them to permeate where they will, and then cease to plug up the world with more words.
Yeah...I'm trying to sound Zen.
Anyway, if I have my way and suddenly become more disciplined, I will even start writing some proper musings and thoughts.
Here's to hoping.

Proper 6 2015


Proper 6 2015
At my house we get a kick out of documentaries about animals, space, science—and a bunch of others. That’s probably no surprise to you, being that I’m such a big nerd…
Anyway, we watched a series from the BBC called “How to Grow a Planet,” and it explored how plants and plant life were not only responsible for directing the evolution of many animals (including humans), but were also essential for the development of an oxygen rich atmosphere—allowing for the diversity of life we experience now.
As Iain Stewart (the host of the series) explains; it’s because of their ability to produce multiple generations over a short time, in a number of environments, which allows them to adapt so quickly. But, it is this very same need for generation (and reproduction) that directs their adaptability.
So, while many plants developed ways of reproduction that make use of things like wind and water to carry the elements of reproduction (even a variety of types of seeds)—there are still other plants which developed ways to make use of other means: effectively animals.
Now, of course, we’re familiar with bees, and other insects carrying pollen from flower to flower—but, what we may not realize is that plants developed things like flowers and nectar and pollen to attract such insects to aid in their reproduction. Some plants have even developed specific flower shapes, colors, and aromas to either draw or discourage certain insects.
Still others, however, even developed fruits or vegetables which could be eaten by different animal species—and, in turn, the plant seeds (which are housed in these fruits and vegetables) are then “deposited (shall we say)” to start a new generation of the parent plant.
But, of course, it’s not only the plants that make adjustments—but the animal life around them change as well. Birds develop special beaks and tongues to extract nectar. Bees develop fur on their bodies which can hold both nectar and pollen. Some animals develop strong jaws to break the shells of tree nuts…and, of course everything from bananas and monkeys; trees and giraffes; plants and animals have developed to complement one another for their mutual survival. In other words, life develops a symbiotic relationship, and many plant species have affected a variety of changes in animal life through this on-going relationship.
However, this is to say that while these plant species need “workers” or “helpers” to aid in their reproduction—obviously, this isn’t a completely thankless relationship. After all, animals get food (or the raw ingredients to make food, like bees for honey). And, what’s more, we find that some animal species even develop culture and societies around plants and food, partly because these fruits and vegetables have even become essential to a healthy diet. We see it with bees—but we also know that farming and agriculture marked a complete shift in human society.
Plants need us to continue life, and we need plants to sustain ours.

Now, I’m not sure that all of this was what Jesus had in mind with his parable in our Gospel reading today. But, I do think such considerations can add a number of dimensions to this parable.
He says that the Kingdom of God is like someone scattering seed, and over time the seed sprouts and grows—and it’s a mystery, we don’t know how it happens. First the stalk grows, then the head, and then the full grain in the head. When this is ripe, the grain is harvested.
Jesus continues by saying that the Kingdom of God can be compared to a mustard seed, which he says is the smallest of the seeds on the earth. When it is planted, it grows into a shrub with large branches, which become the home of birds.
When we consider the first parable about the grain, we can assume that the ground is cultivated, because we know that the seeds are planted by someone. And, day after day, the miracle and mystery of growth occurs—whether we understand how that happens or not, it’s still impressive. What is also impressive is that in this process we see the miracle of regeneration through seeds; and how humanity cultivates and grows such things for a purpose beyond simply continuing the life cycle of this particular species of plant. It’s literally a matter of life and livelihood for both the plan and humanity.
The produce then is not only the grain and the seed, but it is also sustenance for us, and a way of continuing the life cycle of the plant.

In the same way, the parable of the mustard seed is also interesting. Jesus explains that it is a very small seed—almost insignificant; and yet, it grows into a shrub that can become home to birds. This particular seed, then, not only grows into an important herb—but, as Jesus says, it becomes a home for birds. So, here again, we can see the relationship to the plants and animals—people cultivate mustard seeds, but I’d imagine that birds are also responsible for carrying and depositing these seeds, as well. And while sustenance is certainly a factor with regard to the mustard seed—it would seem that Jesus sees more importance in its ability to offer shelter.
So, if we were to pull all of this stuff together to get a picture of the connection and comparison between grain and mustard seeds to the Kingdom of God; I suppose we could say that the Kingdom of God is a place where we find shelter and sustenance…
But, I don’t think we have to stop there, either; because, we really don’t fully understand how the Kingdom of God can be both already at hand—and, at the same time, ‘not yet here.’ It’s a little difficult to understand how this Kingdom grows… Growth, in this case, is not necessarily about numbers in churches. It’s not about popularity, exposure, image, or even programs that attract a certain demographic. If anything, the Kingdom of God seems to resist such things.



However, what the Kingdom does offer is sustenance. We’re given the promises of new and eternal life…resurrection. We’re offered forgiveness of sins, reconciliation, and an alternative to the destructive rat race of the world. We’re even given hope that things won’t always be as difficult as they seem right now—that life for us, or others in the world doesn’t have to be about pain or suffering or fear. Instead, we’re offered a vision of what humanity, and the rest of the world will be in God’s redemptive time.
The Kingdom of God, likewise promises shelter. In this life we’re offered community; purpose for our lives; even a vision for a fuller, more healthy and integrated life. More importantly, we’re offered love—the love of a faith community, and the opportunity to realize and experience the love of God.
Beyond this, we’re offered a home in the next life. In this we’re given the promise that life doesn’t end by our death, but is instead our transition to a place of rest and truer life.
And yet, while all of that stuff about plants and their effect on the evolution of animal species wasn’t likely part of what Jesus was getting at in his parables…I still believe that all of it brings an important dimension to light about the Kingdom of God. Because, it seems to me that while the Kingdom of God grows and produces mysteriously… While we may even say that the Kingdom of God offers both sustenance and shelter… What we also have to consider is that the Kingdom of God also relies upon all of us to continue its growth and cultivation.

In other words, our lives of faith are not simply about how we are fed, or how we are sheltered. In fact, we know from another parable that the shepherd will leave the 99 sheep to recover the one which is lost… So, I think it’s vitally important that we understand that all of the benefits of our faith, and our citizenship in the Kingdom of God is not something to be miserly about. Instead, we’re called to be extravagant in sharing the fruits of this Kingdom through our lives, through our interactions with others. And we’re not to behave as if we want our faith to be some well-kept secret, either…this shelter that we’ve been given (this promise of home) is not something exclusive. We’re supposed to be about inviting others to experience it, and find a home for their hearts, right along with us, in the Kingdom.
The point is, the miracle of all of this is not so much the growth from a seed; the produce that sustains us; or even the immensity of the shelter that can be birthed from such a humble seed… The miracle is that God entrusts us with the responsibility to cultivate the Kingdom—to continue to receive and be sustained by the life-giving food from the Kingdom of God, but then to go out, and plant the seeds that will allow the Kingdom of God to flourish, and continue to be the sustenance and shelter for generations to come…

Proper 5 2015


Proper 5 2015
It may be just me, but I don’t feel like I hear nearly enough sermons based on the Old Testament. Maybe that’s a relief to some of you, I don’t know. But my guess is that because it requires a lot of contextualizing, and explanation—sermons based on the Old Testament have the potential to be dreadfully boring. There are, after all things like culture, historical context and things to be considered…but, also the Old Testament can just be a little weird sometimes.
Our reading from Genesis might fall into this category if it weren’t such a familiar story. However, this isn’t the lovely litany of Creation from previous chapters—instead, this is the story of how these humans that God has created are eventually exiled for their disobedience. Which is really a bit of a downer, when you think of it…
But before we all put on our self-effacing, Sunday School hats—it might be helpful to explore the story a bit before we make any assumptions. Besides, as Walter Brueggemann, the incredibly popular, cool and devilishly handsome Old Testament scholar has pointed out: this narrative cannot be oversimplified as simply being about origins of evil/ the fall/sin/death or sex; and to make it only about that stuff oversimplifies the meaning, and overstates the importance of such things that are really very minor points in the story... It also distracts us from the fact that the story is rich in graciousness, mercy, and love. Instead, as Brueggemann says, it is a story about “God’s powerful resolve to overcome [humanity’s] alienation [from God] (pg 44),” It’s also about the purposes of God, and the trust of humankind (pg 43).

So, if you still haven’t lost interest, here we go…
Oh! I would like to first point out that this story was not written as historical fact. For one, the writers of Scripture were less interested in historical reporting (as we understand it today), and were instead very concerned with communicating “Truth.”
That’s to say whether you take the creation account in Genesis as literal, or don’t believe it at all—the point is that the writers were trying to communicate deeper truth. So, arguments about infallibility, literal interpretation, or even discounting this work as pure, primitive nonsense is pretty much irrelevant to the point of it.
Right, so, on to the story…
Well, we’re told about this Garden that is planted by God—and this planting, like everything else that God has done in Creation is purely graciousness. Previously we’ve heard about God calling into existence light, and out of chaos the variety of elements—earth, the stars and other heavenly bodies. The boundaries of the sea are marked, and plants and animals spring forth to inhabit this newly birthed world.





But into this Garden, which God planted, there is a surprise creature—this one which is not simply called into being by the existence-giving word of God. Instead, this creature is formed, from the earth, and life is breathed into it. And, because this creature is made from the soil, it is called Adamah (“Adam”).
What’s more, this creature is somehow made in the Image of God, and therefore can find no equal in all of creation. This was the first time in the whole liturgy of Creation that God says that something is “not good.” Adam is alone…
But, God is not supposed to be Adam’s helper. It’s one thing for God to be the help of the Creation—but, not a helper. So, to solve this matter, it would require another new and surprising and creative action. And God creates the woman from the side of the man—and they are equal, and they are one in their community in this Garden that God has planted for them.
Now, Walter Brueggemann says that from this development of the plot so far that humanity and this Garden tell us something about the purpose of God in humanity. Humans are given certain characteristics which both define their identity as this special type of creature, but also identify the purpose for humanity’s relationship to this Garden, and to God.




First of all, the human is given into this Garden to work. It is Adam’s created vocation to work in this Garden, and from its bounty to be sustained, like the rest of the Creation. However, because humanity is made in this likeness of the Creator—the nature to be creative is part of that image. And so, Adam is placed into this Garden not only to work, care for, and cultivate it—but, by this creative nature, to enhance it!
What’s more, Adam is placed into this world and is told that he ought to go and enjoy the Creation. God gives Adam permission to be utterly free—this is a freedom that we often forget because, of course, there is the one prohibition that God gives to Adam and Eve. God explains that they are free to explore and enjoy the creation—but for this one tree.
“You’re forbidden this one thing”, God says. “Do not eat of this tree…it’s the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and eating of this tree will bring you death…”
This is the part that we normally focus on… We may wonder, what’s the point in allowing the man and the woman unlimited access to everything else—but then to place a tree in the Garden that could easily be the cause of death for these creatures?
But, here again, the point is not why God would prohibit this one thing—the point is that not only is this one tree not relevant to the purposes of God, the more important point is that humanity misses the immensity of freedom that has been bestowed upon them.

The truth is, we’re not given a lot of information about this tree—it doesn’t play any particular role in Scripture until a few conversations by St. Paul in the New Testament. However, it wouldn’t be much of a story if the tree wasn’t so interesting…
Enter: the serpent. Inevitably, it’s the serpent who will become the catalyst for what we can easily guess will happen.
Apparently, the serpent is the only creature who has considered philosophically this prohibition about the tree. That’s not to say that this serpent is the embodiment of evil or of Satan—in fact, we don’t see the serpent as any particular symbol of evil anywhere else in the Old Testament, really. If anything, in a couple of places, we see that serpents were symbols of healing. And as to this prefiguring Satan; well, this serpent is more like a philosopher, or theologian than a prosecuting attorney (as the name Satan implies).
This serpent, then, offers this theological question to the woman. Did God really say that you weren’t allowed to eat from the tree? Do you really think that death really means death? So, like a theologian, the serpent begins having a conversation about God—without involving God. God is instead objectified.
The serpent encourages the woman to make a value judgment about God. Suddenly, this clear prohibition of God’s gets somehow rationally reframed, and in no time both the woman and the man have eaten from the one tree that was forbidden to them.   

What happens then, and where our reading begins today, is incredibly nuanced—and it’s because of this nuance that I think this story is so beautiful…
God shows up, as we would expect. The man and the woman, we’re told, have hidden themselves away—not that this would matter, or would somehow keep God from finding them. But in spite of God’s apparent omniscience, and even omnipotence—God asks the first recorded question to any of his creatures. God cries out, “Ayeka?!” “Where are you?”
This isn’t a question of physical location—it’s not as if God is fooled by the man and woman hiding. This is a question of the heart. It’s a question of spiritual presence. “Where is your heart?”
Vicki Garvey (from our diocesan staff, and formerly Old Testament professor at Seabury) has pointed out, there is fear and abandonment in this question. God is utterly broken-hearted, and it’s somehow God who is lost.
All of a sudden these beautiful, amazing creatures that had so much potential were now unrecognizable. Where were these cleverly creative children who were supposed to enhance the beauty of an already beautiful Creation? Where were these wide-eyed, and curious people who were compelled to learn about their world, learn about themselves, and learn about God?
Now, who were these pitiful, frightened shadows who not only couldn’t hide, but couldn’t even dress themselves?

When the man emerges, he’s quick to explain that when he heard God in the Garden, he was afraid. He hid because he was naked. Nakedness was never a condition before—not until the man made it one. Suddenly something that was simply part of being human had become a reason for fear and shame.
Who told you that you were naked, God asks him… Have you eaten from the tree?
The man then explains that it was this woman that God gave him. She was responsible for giving him the fruit. The woman, in her turn, likewise explains that it was the serpent who tricked her, and then she ate the fruit… And so, we see that the man and the woman—for all of the guilt we know they feel—can’t admit any fault of their own. It wasn’t apparently their own choices, but was instead God’s fault, and the woman’s fault and the serpent’s fault…not to mention everything is “I, I, I; me, me, me…”
Well, we know how the story ends—the man and woman are exiled from the Garden, and they are cursed to toil and pain on the earth… But here is what we probably don’t consider in this story: God’s grace is still very much evident, and is even given in their sentencing to exile.
God made it perfectly clear that while everything was permissible to them, there was this one thing—this one tree that, if they ate of its fruit would lead to death. But, the man and the woman did eat the fruit of this tree—but, they didn’t die. And so, while we would expect some punishment for their actions from God—there is still a clear injustice in the very judgment that God gives…

What’s more, this shame and guilt that the man and woman cannot bear, Brueggemann adds, God can bear it, and even goes so far as to do what they cannot—God clothes them. And as we know from the New Testament, to be clothed is to have life.
Again, as I quoted earlier, this isn’t a hopeless story—“it’s a story about God’s powerful resolve to overcome alienation…” And the deep truth that this narrative speaks to us is quite an important one. Because, as we see this beautiful, hope-filled vision of humanity in the creation—we hold to the faith that in Jesus we are made a new creation. The Church, then is to strive to reflect a renewed vision of that original, beautiful state of humanity that we see in the Creation story.
As the Imago Dei, then, it is our very nature to be about the vocation of enhancing and making our world. This means through our talents, and our creativity, we have the responsibility to work for the benefit of all of this Creation of which we are a part. More importantly, because we are also called Christ’s own forever by our baptism—we’re called to continue the work of salvation that was set in motion by Jesus—but, has also been in motion from the very beginning. This is our vocation.
We also live in a time and culture where communication, technology and scientific discovery have made it easier to experience, explore and understand our Universe. With every connection we make with other cultures, we come to understand our own a little more. With each scientific discovery, we find a multitude of questions to spark our curiosity to understand even more…and this is also part of who we are as humans.
We are given incredible freedom to learn about this life, about one another, ourselves—and, certainly about God. The limits for us in this regard, then, are really pretty insignificant compared to the freedom we’re permitted.
But with regard to limits, we do have prohibitions… not a mysterious tree that we’re not allowed to go near. But this is to say, that the prohibition for us is simply not to do those things which lead to death.
This may sound overly simple, but with regard to the other two—our vocation and our freedom—our abuse or neglect of such gifts would certainly be dangerous. For instance we already see in the world where technology which could help to provide necessary resources for the life of others, is instead used to monopolize and exploit resources. We’ve seen how our freedom to seek and to know have been turned to fear and control of others…
There were some articles a couple years back with studies that surprised advertising agencies, and churches right along with them. They found that the Millennial generation—those born between the 1980s through the 2000s—apparently didn’t really care a whole lot about such things as social consciousness; the environment; or a number of other things that had been major issues in previous generations. Some researchers have gone so far as to say that Millennials are identified as having a sense of entitlement and narcissism. Of course this is the generation that both advertisers and the Church has been trying to court for the past few years.

The irony, I suppose, is that we’ve also spent decades asking not only children in this particular generation what “they value,” “what is important to them,” “what do they see as necessary or valuable to them and their lives.” In other words, we’ve trained our culture to make value judgments on just about everything. And so, we’re surprised when we can’t get people to be engaged in working toward a common sense of good; or committing to transformative work in the world; or even to being vital members of our churches, when we’ve already restructured our society to give people whatever they want—encouraged people to only take whatever they feel they need, and leave the rest… In other words, we’ve encouraged self-entitlement and narcissism in a generation—but we’ve also made it the new normal for the rest of us.
So here’s the punchline… When our response to the world’s need no longer evokes our creativity, and our vocation to work and respond; we’ve lost part of what it is to be human. When we’re no longer awestruck, or gob-smacked by the utter grandeur, mystery and largesse of the Creation, because we just can’t see much value in it for us right now…well, we’ve squandered our God-given gift of freedom for what appears convenient for us in the moment. And when the pain of the world due to human greed or negligence—even our own—challenges us to take a hard look at ourselves—who’s fault will it be? God’s? other people? the serpent?



More importantly, who will God see? Will it be the creative, free, life-affirming person created by God, or will it be the frightened shadow, hiding in fear? As the Church, we’re supposed to renew this Imago Dei that we’re given. We called to join God, in Christ, as co-creators, and we’re also to work to overcome alienation among all of humanity, and between ourselves and God. If we ignore this (or make excuses), we diminish our nature. So, the question God continues to ask humanity is, “Ayeka? Where are you?” And I would imagine it is asked with just as much fear and anxiety as when God asked the man and the woman…     

Trinity Sunday 2014


Trinity Sunday 2014
All of us know how important it is to have a solid, foundational understanding of the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, right?
I mean, who of us hasn’t found ourselves harassed upon all sides by Gnostics, Arians, Valentinians and the like, only to be saved through a clear and thorough articulation of Trinitarian Doctrine… If only you had a nickel for every time that’s happened, am I right?
Well, in case you aren’t from the 4th Century, and you only find your understanding of the Trinity challenged by precocious seminarians and Jehovah’s Witnesses—then it’s likely that you don’t have a ‘pet’ explanation of Trinitarian Doctrine, and it’s also likely that you’ve gotten on with your faith just fine so far…
Now, so as not to make light of all of this; I will say that in earlier ages in the Church, the articulation of the Nature of God and why Three Persons in a Trinity of Being still made sense for a monotheistic faith system was a bit more important—there really was a bit more at stake.
After all, rival theological statements—some of them more popular than others—posed an understanding of God (Father, Son and Holy Spirit) sometimes in ways that disconnected our historical roots to the same God of Israel.


Beyond this, and other matters, these rival theologies were also a bid for power—but in the end, Trinitarian theology prevailed, and the Nicene Faith affirmed, after hundreds of years of trying to figure out what to make of Jesus and the Holy Spirit—both of Whom the Church venerates and worships. But how to do that without creating two more separate gods was the question.
So, for people like Gregory of Nazianzus, his brother Basil the Great, Athanasius, and a host of others; articulating a faith statement that made sense of this was more than a matter of street cred—it was an attempt at explaining what Christianity meant for the world in a time of immense upheaval and transition.
   The statement that they adopted then, in 325 at the Council of Nicaea, was what we now know as the Nicene Creed (a clever name). And is the Creed that we recite every Sunday (unless we don’t). Yet, even though in its original Greek it is a loaded, complex and elegant statement of the faith, it’s about as clear as mud.
What this leaves us with today, especially regarding the Doctrine of the Trinity, is a belief that (while it is considered foundational) is all the same difficult to understand, hard to articulate, and really only important to persnickety catechism teachers. At least that’s how it seems.
But rather than throwing the whole Doctrine of the Trinity out, or trying to over-simplify it with bad analogies—perhaps we need to start by trying to understand what the Nature of the Trinity speaks to our own time and culture—which, like the 4th Century, is also very much in transition…

First off, let’s just get some basic handle on what it is that is articulated in the Nicene Creed. Effectively, the Creed affirms that God is One, and that the Son and the Holy Spirit are of one and the same substance with the Father. God is before all things, through the Son (Jesus), all things were created; and the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father.
Somehow, because the Three Persons of the Trinity are so perfectly in communion, they are of One Substance, yet because God is Love—and we understand that Love by nature has to have some kind of economy, and is therefore shared—in this way, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit share perfectly in one substance because they are perfectly in love, and therefore God is Love.
Now, we’ve been through this already a couple of times before, and I even had a few people dancing here in the front to better demonstrate that the Co-existent Nature of the Trinity is often described as a kind of dance—each Person of the Trinity is in perfect inter-procession with and among one another. Again, like the Nicene Creed, clear as mud. But, once again we find our language less than equal to the task of speaking of such things.
Anyway, what all of this seems to speak to, for us, and perhaps generations before us, is that God (the Holy Trinity, and the perfect image of loving and whole community) calls us not only to be in community (with God and others), but calls us to healthy and whole community.


This, I think is particularly important—healthy, whole community—because, of course whole and holy have the same root, and as we know, God calls us to holiness, which in turn is wholeness. And, I would imagine if a community of faith were about creating and cultivating such a community—we would be less worried about programs and advertising, because we would honestly have no trouble drawing people to be part of such a community.
But what would this kind of community look like? How do we even work toward living into such a vision?
Well, first, I think we need to work at the integration of our faith and our lives. So, this means taking our faith seriously. This doesn’t mean living into some rigorous, or complex holiness code. But it does mean beginning with the very basics: Love God, love our neighbors—and live and love as if it really mattered.
We need to believe that people are worth something because God says so, and by God’s grace, we do our best to see it. What this means is keeping in mind how we treat one another; how we talk about one another; and how we value one another. Because as long as we continue to give ourselves passes on these whenever it suits us, we’ll never really be changed, and neither will our world.



Along with taking our faith seriously, we also need to get past childish faith. Notice I didn’t say “Childlike faith,” I said childish faith. Childish faith is the idea that everything you learned about God and faith when you were six is still enough to get you by as an adult. The fact is that I’m not really comfortable teaching anyone, of any age easy answers to faith questions—but, I am interested in age appropriate conversations about faith. However, the sad truth is that for many of us, our faith has been formed by naïve, easy answers when we all know full well that the world is asking tough questions. And easy answers are just insufficient, and irresponsible. So, I think we do a disservice to ourselves, and others when we don’t try to grow more mature in our faith.
Finally, we need to learn to not judge—whether that be people, or even situations. We need to be able to step back, take a breath, and check to see that we’re seeing the bigger picture. Because, more often than not, communities of faith have the exact same patterns as family systems. So, like families, there is a kind of homeostasis that is kept—and this can be healthy or unhealthy, constructive or destructive—but, unless the people in the family system, or even the community system try to step back and see matters more clearly, often the system remains in negative cycles. What’s more, because some of these systems are so used to being unhealthy, and that feels more normal to them—the system will resist change, even healthy change…

 So as people of faith, it’s up to us to check out our notions, or even our understanding of situations—otherwise we might find that we’re perpetuating negativity, and most likely resisting possible healthy change.
So, getting back to the Nature of the Trinity; remember that I said that God, as Three Persons existing as One God, in Perfect Community, invites each of us into Divine Union with God’s Self—to be in community, even communion with God. However, as is the nature of being in community, we don’t do it alone—God doesn’t call us to a one-to-one relationship (personal, yes, but not isolated). What this means then is that there will be other people who are called together with us, to be in communion with God. But if we’re not willing to strive to be healthy and whole as a community, we can never pretend to be holy, either. We likewise can’t hope to be agents of healing, if we’re not, ourselves, trying our best to be healthy. And we’re if not a holy community of faith, or workers for healing in the world, then what is the purpose of the Church? Because there are plenty of country clubs, and organizations who can make individuals feel like they belong—but it’s the Church’s work to be an agent for positive change in the world. But that positive change has to begin with each one of us in this community, so that we can carry that same work out into the world in the name of Christ. “And we will with God’s help.”  

Proper 28 2014


Proper 28 2014
Our Gospel reading today is a pretty standard issue reading for stewardship season. It talks about money, investing, slaves and being cast into the outer darkness—everything anyone could want in a stewardship sermon, I’m sure… Certainly threats of being ‘cast out’ are great to secure the “fire insurance” pledges.
But for me, and perhaps most of rational Christendom—I’m a little concerned about the parable in this regard. So rather than using it to leverage financial contributions to the Church; I think we might be better served if we try to work through some of it. If nothing else, we might try to have some idea of how any of this has anything to do with us…
Well, in context of the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus has obviously been talking a lot about the final judgment that’s to come. And so, he’s been telling a number of parables about being prepared, having proper priorities—all of that. Of course, we should also keep in mind that the Gospel of Matthew was written to reflect a Jewish perspective—so, that’s even why some of what Jesus is saying sounds a lot like Old Testament prophets. And in preparation for Advent, all of our lessons today feel a little judgmental—because, well, they are…
See, this is the other context in which we need to read the Gospel lesson—in the context of the other two readings from Scripture. In the letter to the Thessalonians, Paul is warning the Early believers to be prepared—be ready at all times for the return of Christ. His point was that when we become too comfortable, we become complacent. And this can lead to all sorts of concessions and compromises…
 The reading from the prophet Zephaniah, then, warns against the same thing—this idea that bad things happen when we’re too comfortable or complacent.
Anyway, by the time we get to Jesus’ parable, we already have this sense that as things in the world get worse and less hospitable; it will be more difficult to discern the right ways and best actions for our lives. In the case of this particular parable; we’re to understand that in a world where bridesmaids are being locked out of wedding parties because they didn’t have enough oil for their lamps—this is also a world where people will be too nervous to invest what is given to them.
Now, just to be clear, the amount of money that each of these slaves is given is quite a lot. As I’ve said before, Jesus is really pushing the bounds of reality with these parables. All the same, he’s also trying to really express the absurdity of not being prepared, and squandering what we’ve been given.
Well, we know how things shake out in this parable. The master has given the slaves each a certain amount of money, leaves, and comes back. When he returns, he asks for an accounting of the money he had entrusted. Two of the slaves, as we know, invested the talents given them—while the third had buried what he was given, and is subsequently punished.


As a side note, I’m not sure if things might have gone better if this guy had just shut up and let his master be angry with him…I don’t know. But if failing to invest the talent was enough to make the master angry, probably pointing out that the master isn’t a very nice guy, or a very honest businessman is probably not a wise choice in the way of an excuse, either…    
 Whatever the case, the point is clearly made—we ought to be good stewards of what we’re given. On the other hand, a less clearly made point is that there is disparity in the world. It’s not fair, but it will only become more so… I think I prefer the first lesson.
However, in consideration of the lesson about things being unfair—Jesus isn’t condoning this, so much as pointing out that in the End Times (a period of time which has been going since Jesus ascended, by the way) it will simply be expected behavior to take from those who have nothing, and to give more to those who already have an abundance… But, once again, Jesus is being absurd. Besides, we don’t live in a world anything like that.
Then again, if we did live in a world that behaved that way, I suppose it would be important for the people of God to do things differently—and do them without becoming complacent, besides. Not only should we be concerned with doing justly, loving mercy and walking humbly before our God… Not only are we to be shaped by the precepts of loving God and our neighbors as ourselves…But, we’re to be conformed by love—after all, God is Love, and we should therefore be concerned with the things that God is concerned with…

If we have any questions about what things God is concerned with, we need only apply all of those things I’ve listed already.
 And if we still aren’t too sure, we can read throughout Scripture to find that God is concerned with the poor, the oppressed, the widow, the orphan, the foreigner…the sick, the imprisoned…you, me, and everyone else besides.
So, when we consider this parable, and sharing—or better still, investing what we are given; I think we need to begin by recognizing that, like the slaves in the parable, we’re given abundant and generous gifts. Whether it’s the ability to have friendly conversation and make people feel welcome, or the ability to form and run a committee—whatever the case, the things we have to offer may not seem like a big deal in ourselves—but to someone they reach out to, or welcome in; our gifts can be life changing… But we don’t know until we’ve stepped out, and tried to use them.
Okay, so, I already told you that this Gospel reading is a stock reading for stewardship campaigns. And while I think it’s a terrible choice, I still have a pitch—and here it is: Our stewardship appeal letters went out pretty recently. Enclosed with the letter was a short questionnaire that asked things like “what do you think the Church and St. John’s ought to be doing or about.” It also asked what you would be willing to do to help make that vision a reality.

As we look to the pledge ingathering on November 23rd, along with what you’ll hope to be able to contribute financially to the life of St. John’s; I also hope you’ll fill-out the questionnaire. Then, in early December; we’ll invite everyone to a parish retreat where we’ll begin to discuss these questionnaires, and begin to strategize how to live more fully into the ministry and mission that God is calling us to…
Now, because I’m Episcopalian, I can’t threaten everyone with being “cast out into the outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” if you don’t fill out the questionnaire. I can’t even threaten you with ex-communication… But what I will say is that if we don’t start to try to engage these questions and find a way for all of us to take part in the greater ministry of St. John’s, I think we deny the wider Church the opportunity to have a fuller, more complete witness to the Gospel of Jesus Christ—simply because each of us is not doing what might come very simply to us. And while it’s not “being cast into the outer darkness where there will be”…et cetera, et cetera…it is, at least a little unfair. Because we are, all of us, incredibly gifted people in different ways—and we’ve all equally been called to this church for a reason… So, the question left to us is: “how can we wisely invest that reason?”   

Proper 27 2014


Proper 27 2014
Our Gospel Reading for today is comprised pretty much of this parable about ten bridesmaids who are waiting through the night for the bridegroom to arrive. It’s probably an image with which we’re all familiar—young women hanging around, keeping their lamps lighted so that they can greet the bridegroom when he finally arrives…or maybe not.
This really is a parable which has some cultural overtones to which we can’t really relate. After all, the image in this parable is quite different from what we understand of bridesmaids today—and the idea that a wedding feast would begin after midnight would probably throw the most stalwart of wedding planners into fits. (Something that might be really funny to see).
But all of this aside, I think the point of the story is pretty easily understood—especially because in context it follows a series of other parables and teachings about the End Times, and being prepared. This is, of course, money in the bank for television preachers; and the clincher for hardline, Evangelical crusades… However, judgment is only one dimension of this parable.
Now, just to be clear, it’s not that I don’t like to preach about judgment—in fact, I really like the idea, especially right after campaigns and a vote… The issue, for me, is that when it comes to judgment (especially Divine Judgment),I know exactly who I’d like to see on the receiving end—and I can imagine if all of you were as debased as myself, you would also have some opinions about this.


Of course, in this case, we’d be talking about retribution and revenge, not Justice…which for all of the scary images in Scripture, is really what Divine Judgment is supposed to be about.
Anyway, besides the parable being something about the End Times, it is also appropriately understood as a lesson about waiting—and waiting well.
As I mentioned, this is one parable in a string of teachings about the end of time, and being prepared for that end. So, to help us understand this lesson, we have one set of bridesmaids who have come to wait for the bridegroom with lamps, and extra oil, as well. On the other hand, some of the bridesmaids came to wait, but did not come with extra oil.
When night wore on, then, these ladies fell asleep—having taken off the uncomfortable, yet stylish shoes that went with their dresses. Finally, sometime after midnight, the bridegroom’s taxi arrived from the airport. Upon hearing the car horn honking, and the slamming of car doors, the bridesmaids scramble to greet the bridegroom—but alas, only some of them have extra oil…
Luckily for these other bridesmaids, the nearest oil dealer was a 7-11, so they could go get more oil, and a Slushee, besides. But when they returned with their oil, lighted lamps, and beef jerky for everyone—the doors to the banquet hall were already shut, and no one willing to let them in. In fact, whoever answered the door, even denied knowing them…talk about cold blooded . Obviously this person didn’t know how much their dresses cost, or how much time they had spent at the hairdresser that morning.

Now, again, we have to keep in mind that this is a parable—it’s exaggerated to make a point, and even though it’s not funny, necessarily, parables by nature are more like jokes than a concise exposition of culture and religious life. Jesus is pushing the limits of this story. But, how else could he express the importance of waiting and being prepared, than to tap into all of the cultural fears about failing at hospitality—especially at a wedding. After all, we might remember what happened to Jesus when he and his buddies went to a wedding in Cana. The host of the party ran out of wine, and Jesus’ Mom outted him as Messiah before he’d made it official.
So, if hospitality at a wedding is important enough to force the Savior’s agenda—especially when it’s about having enough wine—we can guess that this parable taps into some real fears for his audience.
I don’t know if there are any things today, in our culture, which would be quite the equivalent to this sensibility. However, I could imagine thoughts of a children’s birthday party, where there aren’t enough party favor bags, might be enough to send some of you into cold sweats.
Maybe for others, anxiety is the prospect of doing a team presentation, and you happen to show up without your thumb drive that has all of the necessary slides.
Or, for the rest of us, it might just be the fear that, the dream where you show up for some important event only in your underwear, isn’t a dream…

Whatever the case, Jesus is trying to underline the importance of being prepared—and he uses urgency and fear as a tactic to get us to understand how necessary it is to be ready, and wait well.
Now, when I say that we need to be prepared—especially in the context of the end times—I’m not talking about buying stock in non-perishables, and building a compound. However, there are any number of websites which have helpful checklists to prepare you…one even lists what size generator you’ll need to power a television, DVD player and computer (you know, only the essentials for the end of the world).
No; what I’m talking about is the need to live in such a way that this world—this life—isn’t our only sense of reality. In other words, our hearts can’t be consumed by getting ahead. Our minds can’t be occupied with selfishness and negativity. Because, as we know, this life is fleeting—and all of the status symbols, and “stuff” that our culture holds onto will inevitably pass away. Our lives are worth too much—the lives of others are worth too much to squander ourselves caught up in the world’s illusions.
Then again, it’s not like we need a spiritual awareness to understand this—the disparity in the world between rich and poor; cultures; religions; and even gender—are just a ‘click’ away. And if we allow our hearts to be moved by this—to be moved by the things that move the heart of God; I think we realize that this can’t be all that there is…there has to be more to what God dreams for this world than what we’re seeing and experiencing.

So, when I talk about being prepared, I think it begins with a state of mind; a condition of heart;  and a perspective about this life that understands that not only is this world not our home, but when begin to live compassionate lives, we find we most certainly don’t belong here. When our hearts are set upon being conformed to the loving heart of God, and our minds are transformed by the Holy Spirit; we find that we want to live more like Jesus. And, while it’s a difficult task, we know that it’s much needed in this world…
The point is, we’re called to live our lives anticipating Jesus’ return, and his Kingdom come—and in spite of what television preachers would like you to believe, this is a very good thing, and hopeful. But we have to take the long view in this, always preparing our hearts and doing those things which make the world ready for the truer life ahead. Within our waiting is the work of holding fast to the hope that, with Christ’s return, true justice will be done, and a Kingdom ruled by love is at hand. And far from buying generators, and stocking-up on canned goods—our preparation will be compassionate works, which give others a vision of that Kingdom, and invites them to join us in our waiting; and our longing for Christ, our friend and Beloved to return.