Proper 25 2014

Proper 25, 2014

Jesus said, "`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."

Well, I think that’s probably enough for today—don’t you? I’ll just go have a seat again, shall I? After all, there’s really not much more that can be said, because this is the essence of Christian faith. The trouble is that it’s easier to remember than it is to live.

In fact, the one line from the Leviticus reading about being holy because God is holy, seems somehow a bit more attainable. We can pray, we can stare at our navels, and be all kinds of holy if we want to—it’s just people what make it difficult. Seriously.

Jesus probably could have had a much easier time of things without the Scribes and Pharisees always muckin’ about.

The Apostles might have even built their own cathedrals, if not for the people persecuting them.

And, I’d imagine if I didn’t have to drive anywhere, vote for anyone in government, or eat certain vegetables; I could even be an amazingly faithful Christian. But, again…people.

  

Of course, if not for the Scribes and Pharisees, Jesus wouldn’t have had the opportunities he did to teach about the core matters of faith.

If the religious authorities hadn’t persecuted the Apostles, it’s likely that the faith wouldn’t have spread beyond Judea.

And, it’s probably because of things like driving, politics (not so much vegetables, though) that make me have to see what my material really is…

Because for all the trouble that “people” cause for us, it’s other people who challenge us to live our faith like it makes a difference. Other people have the distinct ability to hold a mirror up to our attitudes, our biases, behaviors, insecurities, and most importantly our hearts. People remind us that we are also people (darn).

But, I suppose it’s because interacting with other people does all of this to us that we find ourselves talking about “people” in less than complimentary ways. And this is actually more reflective of our own hearts—because we’re them and they’re us.

  

Yet, I can’t help but get the impression that this was the whole point of God telling Israel to love their neighbors as themselves in Leviticus—and Jesus repeating the whole thing again when asked which commandment was the greatest. The point is that we can’t know how to love God with all of our heart, soul and mind, if we can’t figure out how to love our neighbors as ourselves…

Now, this isn’t to say that we’ll ever perfect that in this life—but even the act of trying to do it is essential to the work of trying to love God more fully. Besides, we cover all of this stuff in the confession, so (you know) if we sort don’t do it well, it’ll still be cool. We can still try again. (Week, after week, after week, after week…) You get my point.

Anyway, the reason that we need to learn to love others so that we can love God isn’t just about having our compassion stamina tested. But, it’s also because we learn love by people. Which is to say, all of our metaphors for God’s relationship with us are understood in terms of the love of a Mother; a doting Father—even a Lover in some places… And so, it seems to me that even if our experiences with parents weren’t healthy, or loving for some of us; or if the idea of God as a Lover reminds some people of bad relationships—whatever the case may be… I think that God invites us to learn to love and be loved—and even have our experiences of relationship healed through that love, so that we can better begin to understand how God loves us. Then…it seems to me, we begin to learn also to love better—both God and our neighbors.

  

A couple of weeks ago, I talked about this question that the Presiding Bishop asked us at our clergy conference. She asked us when the last time we understood God to be telling us that we were beloved children of God, in whom God took much delight… Like I said then, none of us could do much else than get fidgety, and try to perform impressive theological cartwheels around the question.

But this is to say that it’s hard to answer for any of us, because it’s really the only question for us, isn’t it? We really need to be able to tackle this understanding that we are in fact beloved children of God, and God is pretty delighted in us. Of course, we don’t always know why, because we know ourselves, and we have a hard enough time getting along with ourselves… So, if I don’t always love me...it’s hard to trust that God does. And if that’s the case—we shouldn’t be surprised when we can’t love our neighbors as ourselves…

One of my favorite Christian authors is a guy named Brennan Manning. This guy wrote a ton of books, and has been quoted by a number of different writers and preachers. I don’t know that he ever got wealthy from his work, but I know that there were a lot of people who thought he was dangerous and overly liberal in his theology. But for all of his lectures, books, quotes and all the rest; the only thing he ever wrote about was experiencing the love of God, and what that does to us when it happens.

  

Ironically, it isn’t all puppies, kittens and rainbows. The reality is that that heart of God is at the same time both a place of immense acceptance and peace; and yet a kind of crucible where we’re shown just what it is that that is being purified out of us… So maybe it isn’t Brennan Manning who is dangerous—but the love of God that is dangerous. Because the experience of God’s love is tremendously humbling and we find we can’t believe how all-consuming God’s love is, and how anemic our own…

But this isn’t to say that our love is futile, either. Because, as it turns out, in God’s economy; we are called to love God with our whole selves; which is the most important thing. But just as important is that we love others and love ourselves, right? We can’t love others as ourselves if we can’t love ourselves… So, in God’s economy, the only thing that we can sufficiently give back to God in the way of reciprocating so great a love, is by giving love to others as well as to God.    

Now, just so we don’t start thinking all of this is just some exercise in self-realization; we need to talk about what it means to love others as ourselves. It’s no secret that it’s more than committing to not pulling your sister’s pigtails on the playground; or doing your best not to flip people off when they cut you off on the interstate (even though these are both good things).

However, what loving others does ask of us is to first consider that our love and our lives have value. And, like anything of value, we ought to really think about the best way to make good use of it.

Quite literally, I’m saying that we need to be good stewards of our love, and find the places in which we can best invest ourselves so that the compassion that compels us to be better lovers of God; lovers of self and lovers of others can flourish and grow.

But, I’m not so sure that we think of it in these terms—our love as an asset. I also don’t think we ever really have the opportunity to discern the best ways in which we can be used in God’s greater economy…and I think this is why we’re sometimes a little flummoxed about using our gifts. This may be the reason we find ourselves trying to do things that really are good things, but find ourselves being burnt-out by them, all the same… I think it’s perhaps because we’re not finding the best places to invest. 

So, here’s where all of this becomes a little more concrete—in a week or so, you’ll be receiving your annual stewardship appeal letter. Enclosed with this letter is a short questionnaire that asks you, first, what you believe the Church, and St. John’s should be about. What do you believe we should be doing? And then, just so the vestry isn’t inundated with suggestions; we’re asking you to consider what little or big part you could play in making the vision you see for this church a reality…

What I think this does for us is not only ask us to consider an important question about who and what the Church ought to be—it also asks us to consider whether or not such a vision is important enough, even imperative enough, for us to do whatever it is that we can to make it realized.

Jesus bids us to love God and love our neighbors as ourselves. I’m glad that our neighbors happen to be people, just as we are, so that we can learn from one another how to love better. It’s also my hope that we’ll even learn to trust that we’re loved by God—loved even better than we know how to love God back. Somewhere, then, in this strange, but lovely economy of love; I hope we’ll learn to invest our love and our lives, so that others may also know and experience the full, and healing love of God. Because no matter what else we do as the Church or as individuals, loving God and loving our neighbors as ourselves—these two things are the most important commands.

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.

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 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 23^rd, 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 5 2015 (I think this worked out well. Adam and Eve!)

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…     

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 7 2015 (I appreciated how this turned out)

Proper 7 2015

Friends, I have a problem… It seems that whatever I do, or wherever I go; I am straight, white and male.

I know, some of you are thinking it’s a little late in the game to suddenly realize this fact. But that’s to say, it isn’t that I’m suddenly surprised by these things about myself—and it’s not that being white, straight, or male are themselves the issue.

Instead, my problem (as I see it) is that these three factors are things that insulate me from any number of realities, and experiences that I’m sheltered from simply because of these things. In fact, without really trying, my race; my gender; and my orientation offer me advantage and privilege in almost any situation in the world. And, if they don’t…well, I still get to go back home to the place and culture where they are advantageous.

Here’s what I mean…

So, as a man; I’m less likely to wonder whether or not someone doing the same job as I am, with all of the same qualifications with equal time with the employer, is making more money than I am… My body structure means that I never have to know what it’s like to wonder if breast feeding my baby in a public place might be considered “indecency.” And, regardless of how awkward adolescence might have been—I’m not held to the same social expectations of fashion, and the illusion of some idealized body type…

  

With regard to being straight, well, this means that no one scrutinizes my relationship with my spouse. Regardless of where we might travel in the U.S., my marriage is considered ‘legal.’ If I watch television, I’m not affected by the way that heterosexual relationships are portrayed. Whether people are promiscuous, unfaithful, or anything else besides; no one is going to project that stuff on me. No one will wonder about my sincerity, or my reasons for being married because of something that’s seen on TV. And, because of our family make-up, no one is really worried about how stable our home life is; and my ability to parent is simply taken for granted as a given…

As to being white, I’m finding more and more that I inhabit a world that has a different set of anxieties. I’m rarely in a position where I have to check my vocabulary, or even how deep my voice is when I speak. As the parent of three boys, I’m not worried about how people will treat them—or how people will perceive them as they become teenagers. I never have to wonder whether or not I’ll get pulled over for no apparent reason—and if I do get stopped by police; I’m not bothered by the suspicion or question that it might have been an issue of race.

The point is that I’m not necessarily stereotyped in any detrimental ways, and as I said before; if I’m ever faced with opposition to my status as straight, white or male—I can always return to a world where I can ignore such opposition. What’s more, I have the ability to isolate myself and ignore the disparities in the world that my privilege shields me from…and, let’s face it, we have a culture that will continue to enable me in this.

Now, again I want to be very clear that I’m claiming this as my problem—and the reason for this is because these subjects are highly emotional ones. These are not easy things to discuss, and it’s my experience that when things like race, orientation and gender are brought up; we’re each of us going through the checklist in our heads about whether or not what we’re hearing fits with our own beliefs. This is when the tapes of what we’ve rehearsed to say to people who have a different opinion than ours, begin to play in our heads… And this is when we stop listening, and begin planning a snappy response to a conversation that isn’t happening.

Facebook and social media do this to us all the time—we feel like we can say whatever we want, but are free from the accountability that comes with being face-to-face with another person…

Well…anyway, this is the reason that I’m making this about me—the problem is deeply, and dangerously my own, and I admit it, and I claim it; and I hope that by confessing it here that something in my own heart will begin to change. Because, God knows I cannot do this work on my own—I can’t stop isolating myself in my race, gender and orientation, so long as it perpetuates inequity in the world…not with any sense of integrity in my faith, at least.

Here’s where all of this is coming from—even though this has been something I’ve been thinking about for some time, and even discussing with close friends—where this particular sermon is coming from is mostly in response to yet another mass shooting.

As many of you know, on Wednesday a young man went into an African Methodist Episcopal Church in South Carolina, and after sitting through a Bible study with some of the people. He then began shooting people, and 9 people are dead because of it.

Once again, of course, whether it’s news media, or social media our failure to have rational discourse about it is striking.

What I think bothers me most about this situation, however, is that I can come to church today, and not worry about anyone planning any harm. And even if there were, such a person’s motivation (once people began speculating about it), probably wouldn’t be a subject of debate. And yet, while I’ve read articles from the BBC, which talk about racial motivation—there are still a number of voices which tempt me to question that. I know it sounds absurd, but I catch myself combing through posts and articles with such a critical lens that I find myself in a fog about all of it. Perhaps what’s really absurd, though, is that I feel that I have any right or authority to make any kind of value judgment. The fact remains that a young white man with apparent leanings to white supremacy, used a legally purchased gun to shoot and kill 9 people in their church, where they had welcomed him…

  

It seems that rather than learning some lesson from this tragedy, however, I still find myself digging at the reports to try and find some deeper meaning that would connect this to every other senseless killing. Was this a matter of gun control? Maybe, and maybe not—but I know it’s not a rallying opportunity for anti-gun groups, nor for the NRA…both, in their way, would be vulgar attempts to exploit the murder of these people.

Was this simply a matter of mental illness turning into an act of terror? Perhaps…but that only makes mental illness more of a stigma in our country, and still doesn’t explain why this sort of thing seems so much more common in our country than in the rest of the world? What this racially motivated? It sure seems that way to me—but rather than taking that as a cue for some deep soul-searching, I instead have to fight my urge to pick fights about racial inequality. It’s as if by somehow becoming the loudest voice for racial equality, I somehow shield myself from the implications that I may have some issues about race, myself…

If I’m honest, I know that this matter of race, and any matters regarding gender, and matters of sexual orientation could be equally things that I need to continue to work through. And perhaps rather than seeing this tragedy in South Carolina as validation for any of my pet convictions—maybe I would do well to see it as an opportunity for some introspection. Maybe I need to see this situation as a mirror which more clearly reflects my heart than anything else could—and the question will be whether or not I can face what is reflected there…

In our Gospel reading today, we have this story of Jesus calming a storm. Mark’s Gospel is a little intense anyway, but this particular story is unnerving because Jesus literally commands the elements to obey him… And, I think we’re helped in understanding the immensity of this act by the reading from Job, and from the Psalm—the elements are things that God controls. So, for Jesus to suddenly rearrange the elements—to reshape reality, really—with a word of command is just as terrifying as the Gospel Writer describes it. The point is that Jesus is powerful in a way that only God is powerful…

But, y’know, here’s the thing: Jesus rebukes this storm, and the water calms, and the boats all get to shore safely. The thing is that this moment didn’t mark the end of all storms from then on… Just last night we had storms; we have lots of storms. Not only that, but there are storms that are destructive and even deadly. So, why didn’t Jesus fix storms at that point?

We could even ask the same question about healing. Why is it that we read that Jesus heals some people, but doesn’t just spend all of his time healing everyone?

Well, it seems to me it’s the same reason that Jesus hasn’t interceded to stop all mass shootings, or gun violence, or even racism, or any other injustice in the world besides… I think it’s because the rest of us have to learn from these things, and overcome them by becoming better people. So, the miraculous change, and healing that we’re looking for Jesus to do, is something that we have to do in our hearts and lives…

In other words, if everyone were healed of their infirmities, we would not learn how to be compassionate human beings—we wouldn’t have to… If we didn’t have to deal with things like storms, we wouldn’t learn about weather patterns, strong building materials, or even offering relief to victims of weather related disaster.

And if we weren’t faced with racism, gender inequality, discrimination about orientation, or even gun violence; I suppose we would never have to learn the value of being God’s Children, and being made in the Image of God (the Imago Dei). We would never be challenged to understand the meanings of human relationship, and we may never be forced to face our fear of one another, and our default response of violence.      

For myself, especially in light of this tragedy in South Carolina; I hope that I can begin to examine my heart with a bit more honesty. Hopefully, I can take to heart some of these lessons that could be learned from such events, so that somehow I can more honestly participate in this work of redemption that I talk about all the time, that Jesus calls us to in the world… More importantly, I hope that I rise to the challenge to not hide from this situation, and others like it. I pray that I won’t use the privilege that comes with my gender, race and orientation to insulate myself from the pain of the world—or even make excuses for it—but instead would try my best to shoulder it, and ask Christ to help me with it when it becomes too heavy. And it’s my hope that others would join me in doing the same.    As St. Paul says, this is the Day of Salvation. But each of us is responsible to respond…

Proper 10 2015

Proper 10 2015

I spent a year one summer, while I was in college, laboring for a company that did masonry work. As a laborer, it didn’t mean that I was laying block—I would have to work with them for quite a while before they would teach me that. Instead, I got to do things like run a mixer, walk a wheel barrow along planks of wood like an acrobat—I was even told to toss a big masonry saw to my boss a couple of times.

Anyway, for all of the nifty power tools and machines that they used, these masons also used something as simple as a plumb line. This is simply a weight attached to a string, which is used as a reference line to keep a wall straight as it’s being built, row after row, block after block.

The importance of a straight wall is more than a matter of aesthetics, though. The weight of the whole structure, and its soundness relies upon the walls being able to support everything. And because maintaining the vertical line isn’t easy, the plumb line is used to keep each row aligned with all of its previous ones.

The plumb line, then (as anyone might well assume), is an ancient tool. It’s relatively simple, and we see it mentioned in today’s Old Testament reading. The Prophet Amos is given a vision of God holding a plumb line next to a wall—an analogy that would have been easily understood by the people of this time. And God explains that the injustices that had been committed by Israel (and a number of other nations besides) weren’t going to be overlooked anymore. The people (God’s People included) were about to be held to the standard that God had set. And they needed to get themselves ready…because God promised the judgment would be the destruction of Israel and Judah, and that many of the people would be taken into exile.

As you can imagine, Amos didn’t get invited to many parties after this…

But the great thing about Amos, is that he’s essentially a nobody—this is a guy who is not formally trained, and instead comes charging into Israel straight outta the backwaters of Tekoa, a nowhere settlement outside of Judea. He’s a shepherd by trade, and apparently pretty good at caring for sycamore trees, but definitely not prophet stuff.

Only, well…God’s called him to be a prophet because once again God had gotten a belly full of the callousness; the greed; and the complacency of the People of God. What’s more, Amos is made all the more indignant by the fact that these “People of God” have taken for granted their identity as a Chosen People. They seem to take for granted that everything will just blow over, like it always does…they feel entitled to it, in fact—angry prophets and divine judgement not withstanding… So, no big thing…

After all, they’d heard all of this before: don’t cheat, don’t steal, don’t exploit the poor… It’s the same old song and dance, and I’m sure that like a lot of us, these people who were hearing Amos were thinking to themselves—“Well, that isn’t me, and, besides, I’m not trying to hurt anyone. I’m a nice person who’s just minding my own business, and taking care of mine…”

So, what’s the big deal, do you think?

Rabbi Abraham Heschel points out in his book The Prophets, “The things that horrified the prophets are even now daily occurrences all over the world. There is no society to which Amos’ words would not apply (3).” But he adds ironically, “[The prophets] speak as if the sky were about to collapse because Israel has become unfaithful to God (5).”

Rabbi Heschel even muses about whether or not God’s anger and the prophets’ indignation isn’t a bit out of proportion to the cause. He continues by asking, doesn’t it seem “incongruous and absurd that because of some minor acts of injustice inflicted on the insignificant, powerless poor, the glorious city of Jerusalem should be destroyed…” and the people sent into exile (5)? He even goes so far as to call the outbursts of these prophets hysterical, and their judgements bitterly harsh…

However, to be fair, I should probably mention that Rabbi Heschel was very active in the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s, and was a fierce opponent of the war in Vietnam. So, it should be no surprise that he answers these questions by saying: “…[I]f such deep sensitivity to evil is to be called hysterical, what name should be given to the abysmal indifference to evil which the prophet bewails (5)?”

In other words, if speaking out against injustices (as God demands) is considered irrational or crazy…what can we say for being calloused, apathetic, or even enabling the injustices in the world? Y’see, the problem isn’t just the people who are perpetrators of evil and injustice. Like Israel, we’re all rubbing our hands together waiting for them to ‘get their payback.’ But just as incriminating, the problem is also that there are so many of us who have allowed ourselves to become unaffected by such injustices and evil. What’s more, we’re not really interested in responding to it, and becomes a guilt of a different sort.

Now to be fair, I suppose we could claim that things like injustice, and evil are really big and amorphous—how does one even really dig-in, and try to take on such things? What would it mean to challenge the systemic issues in our world like poverty, human trafficking, war, whatever?

But, really, there are some practical ways to respond if we’re paying attention. Groups like Episcopal Relief and Development are great places to start if you’re looking for a multitude of ways to support, or even engage the church’s work in responding to any number of these things… So, while we can’t do it all, we’re certainly not powerless to do something, and there are resources to help us, which means it’s not perhaps as difficult as we might imagine.

Of course, there would still be some who would ask (and fairly I think), why we should focus all of our efforts on people who are far away when we have so many problems right here at home? And as long as we don’t use it as an excuse to do nothing, I would say that because we are such a wealthy nation, and because of the many amazing organizations that work to address need and systemic change, it requires much less effort to help and support their work.

But that’s to say we don’t have to make it an either/or decision, and can offer our support in a number of areas. And, like most things, if more people even contributed a little, a whole lot more good can be done.

  

 So, maybe some of us are thinking, “Well, I’ve given to Episcopal Relief and Development, I’ve given to the food pantry over the years…why do I need to hear about this stuff.” Well, we need to hear about this stuff because giving once in a while doesn’t mean that we’ve committed to the work—it means we’ve reacted to what’s right in front of us. Giving to the food pantry once in a while, when we remember, doesn’t mean we’re actively addressing poverty and hunger in our area… And I know, we’re all busy, and we’re all over-scheduled, and life happens—all of which is fair, and true.

However, it’s because we’ve allowed things like busyness, distraction, inconvenience, and all of these other things to become a rationale for our comfortable consciences… So, while we may feel justified by giving of our time or money at some point—we’re not considering that the problems we’re trying to help address are on-going. My 5 bucks that went to help end human trafficking, and my box of Mac and Cheese that I gave some time, a couple of months ago, have both long since found their use, and the problems still persist in spite of it. My conscience is satiated for a little while, I get my altruism fix, but this is not the same thing as responding to, or taking responsibility for the call of God to the People of God.

Our new Presiding Bishop—Elect, Bp. Michael Curry, said in his sermon at the close of General Convention that “we are the Jesus Movement…” He was preaching on the Great Commission from Matthew’s Gospel, and he says the most important part of that command is “Go.” The secret to building the Church is to “go” where the people are…

He also talks about the trailer for the movie Son of God that came out a year or two ago—and how it shows this moment when Jesus tells Simon Peter (who had been fishing all day with no success)…Jesus tells him to cast his net on the other side of the boat.

Bp. Curry makes the point that Peter, like the Church, needs not only to cast the nets where the fish are—but also to quit thinking that the way he’s been doing things is the only way to do it. But, I might even add that this could have been a much shorter story if Peter had simply not responded to Jesus… What if Peter (well within his rights) just decided to ignore Jesus, and drop him off right back on the lake shore where he’d found him?

I’d imagine Peter might have lived a quiet life of desperation just like anyone, and would have faded into obscurity like any number of other people who pass through the Jesus story, untouched…   

And perhaps this is the real danger—not simply evil people doing bad nasty things in the world—but instead, the danger of our own indifference to it: the subtle seduction of settling. The slow death that comes from not wanting to be inconvenienced. I’m being a little ironic, but it’s a real danger, because it’s indifference, and the illusion of comfort and entitlement that tempts us to be insulated in what makes us feel safe. The danger comes, then, when we miss the fact that our inaction begins to scandalize the very faith we claim to be true. In other words, what we preach becomes empty because we have no action to support them as proof. So not only do we fail to respond to Jesus’ call to go and change the world, we become foils for what we claim the Church of God to be.

We read in Revelation that Christ calls believers to be either hot or cold, but the lukewarm he will spit out…and it seems to me that we live in an age of lukewarm. Lukewarm, as we know is not really hot, and not really cold—it’s just enough of one to not be the other—and today it would seem that the Church is about the business of being just enough of some things, but still enough of some other things, that (well) no one can accuse us of being too hot or too cold. And while we may feel like this is some sort of balance or compromise, instead what we’ve done is perpetuated the idea that religion is a heavenly thing which is of no earthly good. What’s perhaps worse is that we’ve failed to acknowledge this as a danger, and somehow still wonder why our pews are getting emptier, and the Church is no longer a sign of hope and help in the world.

But, here again, the message that Amos brought to Israel wasn’t just judgment about committing injustice and evil—it was also about the indifference of the faithful people of God to it.

Wherever that places each of us, I don’t know—but I will say that this image of a plumb line is a good one. As the Church, our lives and work in the name of Jesus are the very materials upon which the Church stands—and likewise become the structure upon which the future Church is continually built. So, it’s not only our responsibility to build well, but also to build in such a way that the Church can be supported. So, what would the plumb line be for us as people of God?

The simple answer, I suppose would be the old chestnuts: the Baptismal Covenant, and love God and love your neighbor… But the less simple answer demands even more from us. How do we begin to really live like any of this actually matters?

Unfortunately, the way to figure this one out requires some real soul searching—and that is something not even Jesus can do for us, but something we have to choose for ourselves. Finally, I would like to leave you with one last thing—this is a poem which was written, actually, by Rumi, a 13^th Century, Muslim, Sufi mystic…

"What Jesus Runs Away From"
The son of Mary, Jesus, hurries up a slope
as though a wild animal were chasing him.
Someone following him asks, "Where are you going?
No one is after you." Jesus keeps on,
saying nothing, across two more fields. "Are you
the one who says words over a dead person,
so that he wakes up?" "I am." "Did you not make
the clay birds fly?" "Yes." "Who then
could possibly cause you to run like this?"
Jesus slows his pace.
"I say the Great Name over the deaf and the blind,
they are healed. Over a stony mountainside,
and it tears its mantle down to the navel.
Over non-existence, it comes into existence.
But when I speak lovingly for hours, for days,
with those who take human warmth
and mock it, when I say the Name to them, nothing
happens. They remain rock, or turn to sand,
where no plants can grow. Other diseases are ways
for mercy to enter, but this non-responding
breeds violence and coldness toward God.
I am fleeing from that.
"As little by little air steals water, so praise
dries up and evaporates with foolish people
who refuse to change Like cold stone you sit on
a cynic steals body heat. He doesn't actually feel
the sun." Jesus wasn't running from actual people.
He was teaching in a new way.
-- Version by Coleman Barks
"The Essential Rumi"
HarperSanFrancisco, 1995