I found myself carrying my phone around and checking it for the time (isn’t that a statement of our times!?)… I found myself curious about where we were in time, how much longer.
And yes, that was on All Saints’ Sunday.
As people of faith, we mark time.
We live in a liturgical year. Seasons are marked by liturgical events. Some correspond with Calendar dates, some correspond with the Lunar Calendar (Ah, Easter/Passover). Biblically time is marked by 40’s (days for Jesus in the wilderness and Noah on the ark, and 40 years in the wilderness for Moses). We can think of the 7 days of creation and even the number 12. We mark the three days after Good Friday, the 50 days after Easter, the four weeks of advent, the 12 days of Christmas.
We are constantly marking time. Last week in particular my time was marked as a bible study that started the first week we closed the church completed a 31 chapter book. One week at a time, we marked our weeks with a small gathering to talk about the message of hope even in trying times.
We are marking time differently in these pandemic days, perhaps no one other than Dr Fauci knew we were going to be counting time like this for so long.
With hope and lament we realize the differences from now and March.
We recognize with sadness that we cannot do everything that we might want to do and when we might want to do it.
Reflecting back in our bible study, we realized we have had some rough times. We have lost members of our community and we have also had new beginnings, births, weddings, baptisms. New little Joys that we savor and treasure.
We know that we are never alone.
As we enter the month of November we journey towards an American holiday of Thanksgiving and our culture emphasizes gratitude.
We are also living in an election season. A time of waiting and process and potential dispute.
The Days are shorter and the nights longer here in the Northern hemisphere, it’s easy to only see the darkness.
In the christian faith tradition, we light candles as we prepare for Christmas. Our Jewish brothers and sisters light candles for Chanukah, celebrating triumph in trying times. In the season of Advent we hear a lot about light shining in the darkness, reminding us we are never alone we are never without help.
In this season, remember to reach out. You are never alone. We are here for each day each other.
Update on my watch: My watch needed to be turned off and rebooted and re-sync-ed with my phone. I had to manually shut it down and then wait while it reacquainted itself with my Phone. It took time, patience and letting go- the re-syncing takes time to do it right.
Where can you see the seasons right now?
Where can you see the need for light in our anxiety?
Where can you re-sync yourself? Re-Boot? Re-connect?
You are not alone, you are enough, you are connected. Remember to take time to let that “sync” in.
O God, whose glory it is always to have mercy: Be gracious to all who have gone astray from your ways, and bring them again with penitent hearts and steadfast faith to embrace and hold fast the unchangeable truth of your Word, Jesus Christ your Son; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Do you remember the children’s game, “Simon Says?”
The game where one person tells you exactly what to do.
The game is designed around listening to instruction and who has told you what to do.
How many of you were tricked after commands of “Simon Says touch your nose, Simon Says Jump Up and down, Simon says sit down, Stand up” and you stood up.
We got into the habit of following command after command and then….
We forget how specifically we are to do what we are doing!
As a camp counselor, I will admit, this exercise was often used to fill time, spend some energy, and to see who was listening.
Sometimes the wrong thing was done because the camper just wanted to move on.
In this exercise, though, you are always given the way forward to progress.
By listening and obeying.
It’s also very clear about what the direction is.
This game did not promote strategy
nor deliberation.
There were no questions or dialogue permitted
The game is simple, Simon says it or Simon did not.
While the game has several purposes (as I have mentioned),
it is very concrete, black and white. Easy to do.
Follow in this way (End POINT) or you are out.
The game is straightforward until we have questions,
Who was Simon?
Why does Simon get to be the authority?
Why do we all willingly play this game? What sort of community are we building if the game is all about our own success and not building each other’s listening capabilities?
Did you know that the first time the game Simon Says was mentioned in print was in 1842 in the Boston Morning Post? April 25th to be exact! The paper mentions: Simon is a great talker; sometimes he says “up,” sometimes he says “down,” and sometimes he says “wiggle waggle.” It is always cheapest to do as Simon says.[i]
Chasing this rabbit trail a little further, other sources say the game goes back to Roman times to Circero (1st century BC). “Statesman Marcus Tullius Cicero said to do something, you did it.”[ii]
Curious, right?!
Well, we are no longer subjects of Cicero and we don’t wiggle waggle much any more… and yet we play along and follow this Simon and what he says.
In this spirit of questioning, we find in our Gospel reading today, a fellow seeker of the “why” of all things, Nicodemus.
Nicodemus, as a pharisee and faithful Jew, has been following the teachings of the Torah all of his life. He has followed and obeyed. In short, he has been faithful.
Unlike the disciples, we do not know who Nicodemus’ people were or what they did. We do not know when Nicodemus first heard Jesus speak.
Curiously, Nicodemus also only appears in the Gospel of John.
Today’s reference is the first of his two appearances.
The fact that he is named in this Gospel means that he was known in the community.
Nicodemus comes to visit at night.
I have a friend that says, “Nothing good happens after 9pm” – which is often true in this day and age. So, it is easy for us to think that Nicodemus was visiting with a not so genuine intent. In Jesus’ time, though, to arrive at night allowed for conversation, deep listening and teaching. The sort of teaching where you had time to hear the familiar stories shared in a new way.
The tv channel, Nickelodeon, called their nighttime programming Nick at Night- the time when the classics came out.
Today, our “Nick (Nicodemus) at Night” comes to discover more about the why is “Jesus saying these things and doing these things” and unpack these teachings.
Nicodemus comes to Jesus and asks “What do you mean” by this being born again?
Nicodemus engages Jesus with respect as a fellow teacher. He engages in the Jewish banter of rabbis asking questions to learn more and to dig deeper, to discover, to find the way forward.
What should he, Nicodemus, do next?
In what manner should his life be shaped?
Has all that he has learned in his life up to this point meant nothing?
Nicodemus comes with wonder, curiosity, and tenacity.
Unlike Cicero or Simon, Jesus speaks in the gray.
Now don’t get me wrong, throughout the Gospel, Jesus speaks directly about how to love each other, giving direction concretely to his disciples.
To Nicodemus, Jesus knows that this is a moment to breathe in and invite this wise and learned teacher into a new space.
Into a new way.
Instead of mapping out the path to salvation with a series of decisions, Jesus invites Nicodemus to think beyond the brain’s knowledge and to be transformed in heart and soul by water and the Holy Spirit. To be born again, to remember again, being one with God. To reconnect with the one who loved you from the beginning, even as the breath of God hovered over the water, even as the Israelites wandered in the wilderness grumbling and doubting.
To reconnect with the God who is present here in our midst- just as much as we know the wind exists because it is felt within the rustle of the trees and seen in the bending of limbs.
The way to go forward, Jesus says, is to let go and be loved in the manner that God is showing the world through Jesus’ life, teachings, death, and resurrection.
In this manner, God loved the world, that ALL might come within god’s embrace.
And what manner is that?
A life of love.
A life that met the curious like Nicodemus at night and answered his questions,
A love that met the socially excluded like the Samaritan woman that we will hear about next week,
A love that met the antagonistic scribes with grace and humor,
and those who were threatened by Jesus (even Pilate and Herod) a manner of life that includes rather than excludes.
A manner of life that invites rather than casts out. A manner of life that hears the brokenness in the midst of angry words and looks beyond those angry words to seek new beginnings and transformation rather than destroying community.
A way of life that engages not just our minds but our hearts and hands.
In this manner, Nicodemus, God loves us and we are to live.
In this manner God has loved God’s people into community, from wandering in the wilderness to the heart of the city of Boston.
Each day inviting us to find a way to re-imagine how to love in the manner that God has first loved us into who we are.
“What is the way?” Thomas will ask this later in the Gospel of John. Again, Jesus says- my life here shows you the way, the how, the root of each day.
Love.
This manner of love is a different way, different from simply taking a job and getting promoted, achieving success in society’s eyes.
This manner of love invites you at the end of the day to sit with Jesus and look at the loving embrace that God has given both to you and to those around you.
You, too, are invited into conversation in the midst of the stillness and quiet of the night to ask your deepest questions of “why” and “for how long” and “what do you mean?”
Jesus says to you, as he said to Nicodemus, “You already know.”
In the wind, in the air, in the midst- you have seen my love for you present and deeply WITH you.
God loved the world so much that God is always in the process of restoring us in relationship, All of us, in the most imaginative and sometimes invisible way.
Nicodemus appears for a second time in the gospel of John, at the time of Jesus’ death. Nicodemus is one of the men who, in John’s Gospel, prepares the body of Jesus for burial- bringing the spices to care for the dead, as one would for a beloved family member. Nicodemus wasn’t told to do this action. Rather, out of love, he came to care for this teacher who met him where he was and in turn Nicodemus acted in love for this beloved companion.
As we continue in our journey of Lent, how will you, too, live in this manner of love? Inviting others to walk with you?
Inviting others to know the embrace of Jesus’ loving arms?
Set us free, O God, from the bondage of our sins, and give us the liberty of that abundant life which you have made known to us in your Son our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
You are the Salt of the Earth.
You are the light of the World.
For some of you, when you hear these words…..immediately the tune begins within you.
It’s inescapable.
Stephen Schwarz’s melody begins to rise within you and your toes start tapping to the tune that 1971 off Broadway musical “Godspell” sings to you.
YOU ARE THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD.
You immediately remember the red record album with this Leonardo da Vinci-esque head of Jesus on the front cover: black, white and red.
You can recite this entire piece of gospel because it was sung to you with conviction, determination, and instruction.
YOU are the salt of the Earth- BUT….
YOU are the Light of the world AND…..
Even now, when one of my days seems to be going completely wrong- it is the chorus to Godspell’s “all for the best” comes into my head.
More specifically, I don’t remember that the title/chorus was “you guessed it’s all for the best,” instead, I remember the litany that is sung out in that same song, offered up. The humanity and brokenness of relationships and to top it all off the song says “AND my olive tree is dying.”
Growing up, music was always a part of our household, singing a song to clean up things, singing in choir, to singing to cassette tapes in the car.
I remember the Godspell record playing loudly, while my mother ironed shirts.
Music with words of hope and humanity amidst the ordinary- the ironing and child raising.
She sang along and, after a while, I sang along too… sometimes with the correct words, sometimes filling the gaps with my own…… the tune and the words stuck with me.
The melodies found me in the midst of my need for comfort, wisdom, inspiration.
In many ways, these tunes have lit my path of faith.
Music, sung to or by us, carries the message with humanity, emotion, invitation. Invitation in this “new” way to hear the Gospel, the good news amidst our own ordinary.
We are invited to hear this message of Hope that Jesus gives us,
YOU are the salt,
YOU are the Light.
Now, I don’t know about you but when you bake, you need to measure the amount of salt in your baking otherwise it will not turn out well. And Confusing salt with Sugar is just a horrible mistake.
AND I am now at that age where the flashlight on my phone has made reading a dinner menu so much easier. Light means so much to our lives.
The Gospel of Matthew is written as in instruction manual to the early church.
The nacent gathering of followers of this new way of living wanted to know how then to BE church, to be a gathering, to be with each other. After Matthew has told us who Jesus is, Matthew settles into instructing us how then we are to live.
For those who are type A’s, Jesus is giving you a manual on how to live. Like a great recipe, Matthew is saying do exactly this and you will be a community. Follow these directions.
Isn’t that amazing? You can highlight it in pink highlighter, if you want to- it’s easy- do this, don’t do that.
For those of you who are not Type A’s—take a breath- the gospel of course is not that easy…… like humidty in baking bread, there are uncontrollable factors that make things complicated. Life in community is complex and try as we make it, life doesn’t always follow a formula. You know that already and you, too, can rejoice in this gospel and gospel writer.
Like the rich young ruler who will come to Jesus in Matthew’s Chapter 19, living out our faith is not just do’s and don’ts, faith-filled living is not just keeping commandments…..it’s involving our hearts and being the light- in mind, body, and spirit.
We have been given lights upon our path and we are to be the light.
From the words of proverbs (and the praise song)- Thy word is a light unto our path.
Simeon, the faithful priest, who speaks to those gathered when Jesus (not a groundhog) is presented 40 days after his birth and speaks about Jesus’ being a light to enlighten the nations.
You are the Light of the world.
To today, YOU (not the person beside you) YOU are the light of the world.
Jesus is talking to you.
And this message from Jesus is
Hope
A New Way
Light in the darkness
Guiding us
Turning our world upside down
And yet calling,
Calling us by name
YOU, yes YOU, are the light, too.
In January, I was given the incredible opportunity to travel with The Very Rev. Dr. Battle to Capetown, South Africa. As a part of the Tutu Travel seminar, we listened to the stories of those who were personally involved with the anti-apartheid movement. We listened to the stories of faith leaders and laity who shared the light of love for each and every child of God, regardless of if they were brown, black or white. With the institutional abolishment of apartheid in 1994, their country’s story of freedom is still a young one and yet the light of hope, the shine of joy, the gift of deep grounded hope shown on each face as they shared their part of the story AND where the journey has led them now.
As a group of 12 curious individuals in a minivan (none of us fisherpeople, but very much following along asking, like the disciples, a GAZILLION questions) we were nourished not only with the abundance of the earth but the overflowing love shared with us, grounded in faith and hope that god’s beloved community could come together, make change and endure.
One person who shone exceptionally with joy, was a woman named Renee August. She exuded joy. Remember the scripture about Moses encountering God and when he came down from the mountain, how his face was sooooo shiny and full of God’s light that he had to wear a veil? Renee’s face reminded me of what that sort of joy might look like on a person. She radiated gladness, giddiness, and choosing to hear love beyond adversity. She spent several years with Arch Bishop Tutu as a part of his staff and as a family friend.
She shared with us the story of Arch Bishop’s leadership and also her experience of the ArchBishop as a mentor, friend, and pastor. She invited us into her story, to walk alongside of her in deep moments of frustration, struggle and also joy. She invited us to be a companion with her despite our differences.
Renee spoke of ArchBishop Tutu’s testament to loving each person and calling others to do so likewise. Despite differences, ArchBishop Tutu called you to the light, right where you were. If you have seen ArchBishop Tutu in videos, you saw this same delight and light. That deep joy was not ignoring the pain of life in your midst, it wasn’t an act for show. Rather, the deep joy ArchBishop Tutu reminded us of is that deep hope that god’s kingdom is at work in the most mysterious of ways and will continue to unfold within and with each of us.
The light of love carries us forward, with hope, with endurance, with desire for change—the light of love calls us to share that light with others. Always quick to love and remind you that the light of love is the candle with which we are called to carry and light the path for others.
Like the childhood song sings, This little light of mine, I am going to let it shine.
Shine so that our faces too, radiate the close encounters of the divine. The close encounters with those who experience and delight in God’s love for us and for all of creation.
Shine so that light is where love is so desperately needed.
The tune in our heart, mind, and soul should be the repeating chorus that the love of God is one that lights our path, is a lantern of sorts, clarifying the smallest of print to keep us moving forward even when we might not know how to take the next step forward.
Jesus’ words of comfort console, embrace all of our humanity and answers our litany of grievances and why we can’t possibly do the next thing with an invitation, the word AND enters into our vocabulary, our capability to respond and show compassion.
AND
Let that light shine.
The light of love, the light of hope, the light of change in this world.
What a gift it is to be here today with you, to listen to the word of God, to share just a little bit of who we are and to share a meal together in this space.
My name is Abi Moon and on most Sundays, you can find me and my friends in Boston, Massachusetts at Trinity Church.
Thank you for your warm welcome and sharing your space with us.
We arrived last Tuesday and we will head back to our various families on this Thursday.
I wonder, have you ever had the chance to watch the sunrise or sunset?
In Boston, we are at that time of year where the sun rises at about 7:30am, our days are still short. I will admit, it has taken some effort for me to see the sunrise here…with your days so full of sunshine!
If you have watched a sunrise you know that the sun comes up over the horizon slowly and it is not instantaneous…..rather bit by bit the effects of the sun are felt, seen and the entire experience transforms the landscape.
What was once impossible to see becomes illuminated and continues to be transformed as the rays of the sun peek over the horizon….and then if you are lucky, the clouds continue to transform….bit by bit, pinks, yellows, amber, if you have the time, you can see all sorts of different things……. if you are watching.
As my friends and I have walked and ridden around Cape Town and Hermanus, we have been given the gift of being still and listening to the light of God’s story unfolding in your lives, in the struggles of South Africa, the living stones that each of you are shedding light to those you encounter, showing a space where hope and struggle exist.
Today’s gospel reading reminds us of two things.
Belonging and becoming.
John baptizes Jesus.
Jesus invites his first disciples to follow him.
In Jesus’ baptism, Jesus is publicly showing he and all of us belong as family together.
We are family through baptism, through the love and grace and forgiveness that only God can give.
We rejoice with each baptized child of God at their baptism and walk along side of them as they discover God for the first time.
And much like a sunrise, that one moment is not the conclusion, rather it is just a part of the beautiful unfolding of sunlight, of god’s love.
Because the next thing that Jesus does is say these words “ Don’t just sit there—–Come and see” “Walk with me, listen to the story unfold. BE a part of the story.”
Each of you ‘came to see’ today by coming to church.
You were curious,
you might have needed the strength and joy of this community,
you came to see…..
AND
You know that in community, we see love in action.
We see strength in companionship,
We see hope in even the most complex situations because we are reminded that we are not alone.
We too, are called by name to belong to this community, to listen to each other’s story, to be with each other.
And to be transformed.
In listening on this pilgrimage my friends and I have seen landscapes transform from pages in books to human faces and story.
We have been invited to pray and learn.
Like the sunrise, each moment seems to transform with new imagery and illuminations along the way.
And that is what John the Baptist and Jesus are all about today.
They are:
Inviting each of us to know that we belong.
THAT
We belong with all of our failures.
We belong with all of our joys
We belong right here, right now
AND we are to continue on this path of faith together….
Come and see
Keep walking
Keep being transformed by the unexpected
Keep looking up to see the landscape being transformed by God’s love and light and invitation.
This is the season of Epiphany, the time of the church year where we are reminded that The wisemen who visited the baby Jesus went home by a different way… transformed by their experience of God.
Each of us, too, will leave this space and no matter how far we go in the next part of our travels home, my hope is that your path is transformed knowing that you, too, are called by name.
You, too, are invited to come and see.
You, too, are invited see where God’s love and light intersect on your path.
With each and every sunrise, know the light of God’s love in your life and the invitation to be transformed.
To find the lost, To heal the broken, To feed the hungry, To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations, To bring peace among others, To make music in the heart.
Howard Thurman
Happy New Year Trinity Church!
I pray your holidays were good ones!
Every year, the week between Christmas Day and New Year’s day has this mysterious timeslessness to it? Doesn’t it?
During this week, we take time to eat all of the foods, open all of the presents, play with (and potentially break) all of the presents, and in the midst of all of the swirling travels (planned, unplanned, and changed) we find ourselves looking backward and forward at the same time.
I love to look back and marvel at things that happened in the past year, moves, new adventures, things that stayed the same and things that changed that no one could have imagined.
We pausing to take note and listen to where the rhythm of joys, sorrows, deep learnings existed in the midst of all 365 days of last year.
And it takes community to remember.
There are things we have completely forgot that that happened this past year or remember differently than others!
I also love to look ahead and wonder.
Wonder what will change in the new year.
Wonder what adventures might lie ahead (planned and unplanned)
Now, in wondering, We am not planning, instead-
We sit with curiosity- where will God guide us this year?
How can I make myself open to the path that is made clear, chosen or unchosen by me….
Pausing to listen, to absorb and make space for more than the daily routine and to do list.
Our reading from Isaiah today is a beautiful reminder of looking backward. Listen those words again, “I will recount the gracious deeds of the Lord….
Because of all that the Lord has done for us.. (note not to us)
According to his mercy,
According to his steadfast love.
This recalling is no small statement, we should not sweep it away as platitudes or kindness. Rather, Isaiah ????, is reminding God’s people that despite the challenges,
God HAS been there in their midst-
“Look back and see God has provided a path through the challenges, the means to endure, the love with which to not only survive but to thrive.” It may not have been the path you planned or hoped for, but still the path was there.
Recalling and retelling allows for the light to shine through even in the darkest times.
Just like that Christmas morning when the light shown in the heavens, the shepherds arrived and followed, the angels sang and later, even the kings arrived by light.
Guidance interrupting in the midst of their routine and ordinary lives.
Steadfast love and mercy appears in the unplanned adventure called the Holy Family in Bethlehem. A baby called Emmanuel. God with us.
Which brings us to today.
8 days after Christmas Day.
As the words of Howard Thurman ring out-
“After the stars have faded, the shepherds have left, (and just before our gospel reading today) the magi have visited and departed, the holy family have settled into home life, the ordinary, the mundane.
Now the work begins.
And another angel appeared.
An angel appears to Joseph.
In Matthew’s Gospel account, Joseph is to whom all the angels appear. We hear nothing of Mary’s personal encounter with Gabriel- that is Luke. You will remember two weeks ago we heard of the first appearance of an angel to Joseph in a dream.
The Angel appears and allays Joseph’s fears. In Matthew’s gospel we do not even hear of shepherds or angels in the fields with their Glory to God choruses. No, in Matthew’s gospel, Joseph receives word from an angel that Mary is pregnant, he is to still marry her and to name that baby Emmanuel. God with us.
Can you imagine Joseph looking back at that year and saying, “Well, I never could have planned that any of this would happen.”
Yet, Joseph is obedient, he is kind, he follows his instructions, Jesus is born, they travel home, the Magi arrive visiting with gifts.
Perhaps after the visit of the Magi, Joseph and Mary took surprises in stride, nothing could shock them anymore.
Because then, a second Angel of the Lord appears to Joseph.
Appears and commands again.
Go, Joseph, go to Egypt for safety.
Go and take your wife and child and find safety there until I visit again.
And the family went and they stayed.
Mary and Joseph and sweet baby Jesus went to a country where their people had once been enslaved, a space with history that they never wanted to go back to, a place that Moses had led them from to freedom and yet at this moment that very space was a harbor of safety for this young family.
Into the unknown, into the in between,
Mary and Joseph went into the land of Egypt waiting and surviving.
I wonder how they felt having escaped the senseless violence that King Herod ineffectively used in an attempt to squash the threat of this newborn king.
Were they afraid of being found out? How their hearts must have broken for those children who died
How they must have wondered to themselves, “how long will we be here, what is next?”
And yet the steadfast love of God endured.
According to god’s mercy.
And a third Angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and told them to return to their homeland. And Mary and Joseph went and settled into Nazareth.
Listening and seeing the divine in their midst.
They, like the Magi, home by a new route to survive, to thrive, to live in hope and to see this baby grow into the man that will rebuild the nations, bring peace and music to the heart in such a unique way.
The next appearance of the divine affirming the path of God …is our gospel next week, as Jesus is baptized, the dove will descend, voices will be heard by all who are present and Jesus will begin his ministry. But that is for next week.
Listening to the call of God in our lives takes a certain willingness to listen and to respond.
Joseph and Mary did not let reflecting back on their path inhibit them from moving forward on God’s path for them.
They listened, they trusted, had faith and took one step at a time. From going to Bethlehem to Nazareth to Egypt to Nazareth again.
They received the strangers with gifts
and were received as strangers without any gifts to give in return.
They wondered and wandered but never strayed from the knowledge that God was there with them on this topsy turvy path that was a gift to the world.
I wonder how often Mary said, “Joseph go take a nap- perhaps tonight is the night the angel will appear and we can go home already.”
I wonder if Joseph was afraid or found comfort in those dreams when the angel of the Lord gave him direction?
The work of the Holy Family is at work today, they let the music of the blessed birth of Jesus carry their hearts into and beyond the challenges.
They used each day to respond whole heartedly to the call.
Just as we, too are called to do.
Where might you find yourself in this story?
Joseph with dreams?
Mary who also responded with love and care?
Magi, from afar encountering a new beginning in a new way?
Arriving like the holy family in a new space with no plan, needing hospitality and care?
Welcoming, like the Egyptians, a new family in their need?
Wherever you might be on your spiritual journey, let the words of Isaiah ring through- know the abundance of God’s steadfast love and keep listening to those angels who appear on the path to guide you along.
Amen.
A Blessing for Epiphany
If you could see the journey whole, you might never undertake it, might never dare the first step that propels you from the place you have known toward the place you know not.
Call it one of the mercies of the road: that we see it only by stages as it opens before us, as it comes into our keeping, step by single step.
There is nothing for it but to go, and by our going take the vows the pilgrim takes:
to be faithful to the next step; to rely on more than the map; to heed the signposts of intuition and dream; to follow the star that only you will recognize;
to keep an open eye for the wonders that attend the path; to press on beyond distractions, beyond fatigue, beyond what would tempt you from the way.
There are vows that only you will know: the secret promises for your particular path and the new ones you will need to make when the road is revealed by turns you could not have foreseen.
Keep them, break them, make them again; each promise becomes part of the path, each choice creates the road that will take you to the place where at last you will kneel
to offer the gift most needed— the gift that only you can give— before turning to go home by another way.
Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which your Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the living and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
I will light Candles this Christmas; Candles of joy despite all sadness, Candles of hope where despair keeps watch, Candles of courage for fears ever present,
Candles of peace for tempest-tossed days, Candles of grace to ease heavy burdens, Candles of love to inspire all my living, Candles that will burn all the year long.[i]
What ARE YOU WAITING FOR?
It’s a question I received a lot growing up.
Why aren’t you in the car? Why aren’t you ready? What are you waiting for????
And the reasonings got very creative:
Are you waiting on a written invitation?
Are you waiting for the stars to align?
Are you waiting for the right group of people to sign up first?
Are you waiting for your name to be called?
Are you waiting for ticketmaster to let you in out of the waiting room? (Too soon, Taylor Swift fans?)
Let’s be honest,
We do a lot of waiting.
We wait in traffic,
We wait in lines,
We wait for the turkey to be done,
We wait for our teams to win, sometimes in double overtime, too!
And in our digital world, we have managed to avoid a lot of waiting….
We can now order online in advance, we can pay for it to be shipped directly to us rather than picking it up in person, We can pay for it to be ready— so we can do something else in the in-between time.
And I wonder….
What should we be doing in our waiting?
Some of the digital options allow us to multi-task, I am in no way condemning this concept.
What are we multi-tasking with though?
I am just wondering are we just filling the time we receive with other non- important busy things?
What might we be avoiding?
What might we be burying deep down and “hiding from” in the fullness of our worlds?
When we wait for results…. Are we filling our time and hiding our anxiety and fear of death?
When we “are waiting” for sadness to pass, are we ignoring the need for our own hearts to grieve and be broken open?
They say “Iceburgs you only see 10% of what is going on… 90% is below the surface.”[ii]
Just like the ways we fill out time,
We show what we want to show, don’t we?
We dress in certain ways, we share joys and selected sorrows on Social Media.
Think about it, we can even blur our backgrounds on zoom meetings.
Where might we take the time to unblur the things that our hearts might need us to be still to hear?
Where might we need to wait and know that we are not alone.
Where might we need to be still and know that we are enough?
Where are you taking a moment to plunging deeper?
To share your story?
Where have you found that you have been Waiting and Growing at the same time?
Our Gospel reading today is from the Gospel of Matthew. Jesus is speaking about what is to come and how then we, as disciples, should wait. He reminds the disciples that waiting and change is nothing new in their story. Neither is change that comes with suffering.
Jesus reminds them of how then we should wait. He invites the disciples, and in turn us, to use our time of waiting to be productive. Be ready for the divine to interrupt you. Be waiting and also digging deep to be ready for the birth of Jesus on Christmas Day and also the second coming, when we know not the time nor place.
We wait with hope and expectation.
Trinity Church in the City of Boston is an amazing mass of a building.
And yet, it represents something much greater than what you can see…..
It’s roots go deeper, story runs deeper, it’s identity is (DO I SAY IT out loud?) more than this building.
We gather here each week to worship God, See each other, AND to go deeper in our faith.
In our waiting we gather, seizing each moment to seek a God who loves us and invites us to know that love more deeply.
Each week, we are invited to share a bit of our story, in all its unseemliness, it’s messiness, it’s incarnation (word made flesh)…. And in our waiting, go deeper.
After services on Sunday, we give you the invitation to come downstairs, to gather underneath to go deeper. Sometimes, this invitation is through coffee and conversation. Sometimes, with a lecture. This week we invite you to go downstairs and create. Down below, you will find all the ‘fixins’ to create the traditional Advent wreath that marks time as we wait and prepare for Christmas.
The tradition of Advent Wreaths come from Germany. The story goes that “in 1839, Johann Hinrich Wichern (1808-81), a pastor in Germany, built a wreath out of an old cartwheel to help the children in his mission school count the days until Christmas. He added small candles to be lit every weekday and Saturday during Advent, and on Sundays, a large white candle was lit. Although it wasn’t widely popular until the 19th century, German immigrants then brought the tradition with them to America in the 20th century.”[iii]
We continue to light these candles in the darkest time of our year in the northeastern corner of the northern hemisphere, when there is less and less physical light- our desire as Christians to see the great light in this world IS even more desperate.
We light candles to remind us that even on the darkest night, there is hope in our world.
We light candles to remind us that our loved ones are still with us even if they are no longer at the table this year, that their presence is still very near in our hearts.
We light candles amidst violence and senseless destruction, to remind us that we can be different, we can make change in this world and those lost will not be forgotten.
We light candles as we wait, together, for something more, a love deeper for us that we have yet to fully understand.
The miracle birth in Bethlehem which brought light into the world in the simplest of ways, a baby who threatened Kings and all of the political systems. Hope given to a world in need of healing.
The truth of the matter is, when you dig down deep, we are always waiting.
We are waiting for our name to be called, we are waiting to be fed, we are waiting because we simply aren’t “there” yet.
We are waiting for this world to know and experience the deep love of God that transcends the outer packaging, the social media shininess, the uncertainty and the brokenness.
And as we wait in lines, with grace and impatience alike, we are not meant to be passive.
Rather, in each moment of waiting we have the opportunity to discover and delight in God’s creation, delve into relationships that challenge us and are different.
Waiting is an adventure and while we might fail at doing this with love every moment of the day, the invitation is still there to delve below, to dig deeper and see the Divine….. as we try, try, try again to love God, Love our neighbors, and love ourselves.
What are we waiting for? Our journey continues today, let’s wait with hope and expectation and dare I say it- joy. Knowing that we have work to do.
O Come O Come Emmanuel, God-with-us, in the depths of our lives, give light in this world and help us to wait with grace and patience.
Almighty and everlasting God, increase in us the gifts of faith, hope, and charity; and, that we may obtain what you promise, make us love what you command; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Tell me a story.
We hear this plea hear from children.
It’s why we crack open a new book of the NYT bestseller list.
It’s what we ask of movie theaters (or Netflix these days). Tell me a story: a beautiful, wonderful story.
A story with a message that gives us hope.
A story that teaches.
A story that surprises us, has twists and turns, engages us.
What was your most beloved story growing up?
What is the story you have memorized from repetitive reading to your own children?
What was the first story you read, all by yourself?
I remember reading my first Nancy Drew mystery book
and my mother reading Anne of Green Gables to me.
Then came The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings
Each of these stories, even re-read now, speak volumes to our desire for hope, belonging, resolution, instruction in the midst of struggle, and a bit of escape from reality.
As Christians, we have plenty of stories in our scriptures.
And while they might not be as concise as Dr Seuss or amusing as David Sedaris, they do offer hope, they give guidance, they remind us that we are not uniquely new in this journey of questions and searching for meaning.
Today we hear a parable, a story, from Jesus.
This is nothing new in the disciples’ time with Jesus.
Jesus is constantly teaching – engaging in dialogue or telling stories. Stories to give direction, hope, guidance through the struggle of every day faithful life.
Today’s parable follows directly after last week’s gospel of the persistent widow and the unjust judge.
And much like any children’s story there appears to be a dichotomy.
Polarity.
Wrong and Right.
The bible is full of these:
A baby born to threaten a seated King (Think: Moses and Jesus)
In Luke we hear of polarity over and over again, outcasts at the table with Jesus, Lepers receiving healing, parables that juxtapose a widow and a judge, one without social standing and power with the powerful.
Banqueting tables that invite all to participate.
Today- a pharisee and a tax collector.
Polar opposites in the vocational field and popularity.
One esteemed in the faithful community and one who was detested.
It is easy to quickly come to the decision that one is better than the other.
Just like the pharisee.
“At least I am not like”……
Jesus sets this dichotomy up to draw our attention to both the individuals and their understanding of the other.
The Pharisee and his understanding that he has fulfilled his duty.
All that he does reflects this faithful action.
The Tax collector and his understanding that he stands there in need of mercy,
so unworthy to even look up.
I think we can easily look to the two and decide where we fall at this moment. We can judge the other, too. If we are being honest we have been both of these characters at some point. Puffed up with accomplishments or depleted by guilt and shame.
If we rest our souls there, I think we might have missed the point.
The bigger storyline has been lost.
In this parable story we have two individuals who have both come to the faith community.
Both are in need of love and mercy
and both are seeking God– using language that they feel allows them to be heard.
The first believes that he is worthy by duty and doing.
The second by being.
What is left out is any sense of connection or community of the two people who are in the same physical space.
What is absent and missed is that God loved them first, before they did anything.
God was there and invited them to be in community.
The Pharisee, eyes cast upward, was not going to sit anywhere near the tax collector.
The Tax collector was attempting to fade into the corner, eyes downcast.
A chasm existed between the two.
I wonder where the common ground was for these two socially diverse people and how the story of their identity became so disconnected.
The common ground of this story is that they both faithfully came to pray, to receive, in a space of divine.
The tax collector is celebrated by Jesus because he was open to receiving while the Pharisee was stuck in duty instead of delight AND the devotion of the tax collector.
When we reside in competition or “better than” mode of life we lose the opportunity to receive, to collaborate and see that without each other we are actually less than being the full family of God.
In hearing of someone else’s pain or misfortune our response should be from the compassionate heart, not the heady space of comparative lack of fortune.
If we pray that we might be one with gladness and singleness of heart, our hearts should hurt when we hear of the misfortune other members of the family, regardless of how proximate or distant they might be.
In our eucharistic service we hold up the one bread and break it into pieces and give it out evenly to all those who receive the body and blood of Christ.
Shoulder to shoulder we gather around the altar rail or you receive in the pew right where you are.
Your educational status does not matter, the accolades you received are not itemized nor do they prioritize our distribution.
What matters is your open hands to receive, your open heart to be embraced.
There is no “At least” in the Kingdom of God, absolutely no competition.
There is instead, absolutely an invitation to each of you to be loved, receive mercy, receive hope, guidance, gladness, and unification despite division.
Each of us is given a chance to reframe the story, to be part of the narrative where repetition and engagement are essential and give life.
I love reading the Bible because there is always a story that fits our situation. Each time I re-read the scripture I hear something new and am given a fresh take on an old familiar and a new way emerges, a way where God is manifested in our midst.
In listening to scripture, we are given space to hear dichotomy and also invitation in the midst our lives, an invitation to find the middle way– the way of deepest relationship.
A way where God is center to each of our encounters.
The Pharisee looked at the tax collector and did not see him as his brother or companion, he saw him as less than. He saw his status only and not his relationship as a brother in faith.
Where can we take a moment to pause and remember our relationship with one another?
How can we make space to listen to the pain of this world in the midst of duty.
How can we, with holy curiosity, delight in the misadventures and mistakes that we did not plan yet found God there in our midst?
Where can we find gladness of heart even in the darkest moments of our lives without resorting to starting a sentence with “at least”…..
Jesus invites us to reshape the easy story of I am right and you are wrong into “let’s get this right together.”
We have to come together, be in relationship, be with one another and delight with compassion for one another.
Even in the midst of this parable, there is the story of hope and engagement that the Bible holds for us. Jesus continued to teach and live that life for us- full of twists and turns for his disciples and in turn, us.
We receive an open invitation to meet in the middle and join our hearts together to love like the God who created us and delights in us so much that his sacrificial love reaches to us in the midst of our duty or our deprecation.
This is the story of which we are all a part.
Tell me a story, share your own story and realize we are all in this together.
Grant us, O Lord, to trust in you with all our hearts; for, as you always resist the proud who confide in their own strength, so you never forsake those who make their boast of your mercy; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
O God of New Beginnings
May we be curious and compassionate
Fill our hearts with the joy of new friends
and our minds with wonder of learning new things.
And the knowledge that you are in each of our moments: joyful and sorrowful.
For the shopping of crayons, markers, the exact sort of paper, that crisp snap of the binders, ready to receive the new year’s knowledge.
We return to a routine, sports, schedules, expectations.
Even, loud boiling test tubes, as our closing hymn sings.
The return of school zones and traffic.
It’s exciting.
Pencils have been bought, school lists completed, first day of school photos taken on doorsteps with new and clean lunch boxes, smiles are big on children’s faces and parents’ too.
Backpacks have been filled with blank sheets of paper, permissions slips signed for the year, excited and anxious children delivered by excited and anxious parents.
A week of excitement, joy and let’s be honest anxiety.
Regardless of if it is your first day of kindergarten or grad school, or teaching as a first-year teacher or veteran.
Everything is new.
Like the pencils that are too big because they have yet to be used and molded by our grip, the first day of school holds so many unknowns and we aren’t quite sure of the space where we fit in.
We hold our breath, parents, teachers, students alike, as we plunge right in- taking that brave first step into the new year, new school, new community.
And we are all in, armed with who we are, a backpack of supplies and a lunch box, the new year begins.
Even if you do not have your own children, you remember those days yourself, don’t you?
The joy of seeing friends after the summer.
The anxiety of where will I sit for lunch and with whom?
The curiosity of do I have the teacher I wanted?
The question of what have we gotten ourselves into?
I imagine Jeremiah today, while called by God as a prophet, might be wondering the same thing.
God said to Jeremiah, “Go to the Potter’s house, I am going to teach you something.”
18 chapters into our time with Jeremiah, this is not the first day of school. Jeremiah has been listening to and sharing God’s message to the people of Israel in exile for quite some time. By now, Jeremiah’s backpack is full of notes, assignments, and projects.
No, today in our reading we are into the first months of school, this is a first field trip of sorts.
And here, at the Potter’s shed, God reminds Jeremiah of the very visual work of the potter shaping the clay. The potter uses clay that is already there.
Taking the clay and re-forming it.
Re-creating, molding it into something new.
External pressure shaping what otherwise would sit there as a lump.
God is reminding Jeremiah that, in the midst of where they are, God is shaping the people of Israel. All that is given to them will mold them, educate them and form them. All that is given to them will transform them, like the potter on the wheel shaping the clay. This is a new day for that clay, a new beginning, a new shape. This message of transformation is what Jeremiah is to share with the people.
This time here will shape you. Like clay amidst the potter’s hands, you will be transformed into something new.
There is a plan, you will be shaped, there will be change.
Ya’ll, shaping clay is not a gentle process, it messy, uncomfortable, not asked for by the clay, and forceful. God is reminding Jeremiah that this transformation will be much like a potter’s work with clay- with great strong guidance and will create something so marvelous that you cannot even imagine the end product.
In our Gospel today, Jesus, too, is speaking to his disciples, his closest followers and they are being taught a new thing. Continuing as a disciple, a follower, a student of Jesus means that there will be messy times, there will be times where the community that the disciples will find themselves will be re-formed. There will be times where all else will push against you.
Life will be hard.
You will have to say NO to some things because of your yes to God.
Both Jeremiah and the disciples are being invited into taking that one marvelous brave step into being fully into the new community that is being formed by God.
Leaving all else behind.
Being shaped by our creator.
Being wholly (holy?) loved for who they are and willing to risk everything else for the knowledge of this love.
You are marvelously and wonderfully made, our psalmist says to us.
(In a short while) We will re-affirm this understanding of our own personhood in our baptisms today.
As a congregation, re-affirming our baptismal covenant with parents and godparents, we begin again with excitement and maybe a little bit of anxiety about starting fresh in the eyes of God’s grace and love.
Each of our baptizand parents are acutely aware of that anxiety and excitement in each of moment of their child’s journey right now. Armed with diaper bags and bottles, they lean into each new day of learning.
In baptism, we leave all else and re-commit our faithfulness to God.
With these promises, we are all in, with our heart and mind and soul. Today’s baptismal moment is also our own new beginning and willingness to start fresh, pencils sharpened, for this new chapter in our own journey of faith.
We know that God knows all of our ins and outs and is on this journey with us and LOVES US.
With Jeremiah, God accompanies the prophet in each of the messages given, the call to transformation and the belief in each person’s ability to be formed anew.
With the disciples, Jesus reminds them that while the journey is not going to be easy, their response to God’s call in their lives and listening to this call (and our call) should guide all of our footsteps.
To all of these calls, we, as disciples, say “I will with God’s help”- just like our baptizands and their parents and godparents starting for the first time on these promises together, we say them together with gladness and singleness of heart, knowing we too will be formed and reformed in this messy and wonderful life of the world to come.
The truth is, those backpacks and diaper bags, while essential tools for our journey, are security blankets like the character Linus carries in the Charles Schultz’ cartoon Peanuts.
What we really need for this journey is right within us, the deep love and beloved-ness of being a child of God. This is what Jesus is asking of his disciples, that is what God is asking of Jeremiah and the Israelites.
To let go of everything else and be shaped by this love.
Friends, you have what you need. Have no fear, take heart and jump in with the deep gladness of this new day to start fresh.
Amen.
[i] Adapted from Kayla Craig’s “A Prayer for the First Day of School” found in her book, To Light Their Way: A Collection of Prayers and Liturgies for Parents
Almighty God, you have given your only Son to be for us a sacrifice for sin, and also a an example of godly life: Give us grace to receive thankfully the fruits of his redeeming work, and to follow daily in the blessed steps of his most holy life; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.
Lord, transform us – not for our benefit, but for the benefit of the world. Do your work in us – molding us, making us, shaping us, changing us, To be the new creation you have called us to be in Jesus Christ. [i]
In the past month, my husband Rob and I have had our lives transformed.
Arriving in the commonwealth of Massachusetts, we have learned how to drive in a rotary, how to successfully survive the RMV (with new license plates and driver’s licenses!), and I am still learning which door leads where here at Trinity Church Boston. A beautiful new space.
One thing that has not changed for us is the heat.
Please do not blame these transplants from Florida for the weather conditions of the past month. We are used to the heat but the heat with centralized air conditioning!
Ya’ll. It has been HOT!
And I don’t know about you, but the heat makes folks cranky.
It’s a real thing.
As Rob and I have settled in we have found salvation in both Jesus and box fans.
Oh that cool breeze in the evening.
AND, we have sought out sanctuary in cool spaces…museums and the movie theaters.
On one of those hottest of hot days a couple of weeks ago we escaped to the divinely cool dark space to watch Top Gun: Maverick in the movie theater and movie did not disappoint.
Growing up in the 80’s in West Berlin, in the midst of the Cold War, Top Gun was a movie that we watched often. For some reason it might have been the only video cassette we owned. The planes, the music, the short quips. The self-assured youthful Tom Cruise, the tragedy of death, and the threat of “the enemy.” We were hooked.
I was intrigued to see how this sequel some 25 plus years later would measure up with my memories. For those who have not seen the most recent movie, spoiler alert, there are a lot of airplanes, A lot of cockpit shots, and decisions that make a difference between life and death.
The storyline struggles with the dilemma of being a rogue hotshot maverick and a team player. Decisions regarding watching out for your family and team and the weight of each decision.
Tom Cruise, as maverick, is still flying planes and his relationship with Val Kilmer, Iceman, has shifted from rivalry to a deep friendship and mentor.
There is a moment in the movie where Tom Cruise and Val Kilmer are talking about the guilt that Tom Cruise’s character has carried with him all of his career and Val Kilmer says sagely, “It is time to let go” the words hang there in silence.
Tom Cruise finally replies, “I don’t know how to do that.”
A rogue maverick who professes that he doesn’t know how to do that radical maneuver of transformation.
In the midst of the comfort of the air conditioning and recliners, my mind finally let go of the discomfort of the heat and wandered from Maverick to the deep truth of this statement.
What is it time to let go of?
Do we know how to let go?
Are we EVEN willing to admit that we do not even know how to let go?
In today’s gospel, I imagine it might have been a little bit hot outside.
We are half way through Luke’s Gospel, Jesus has settled into his walking and preaching and teaching phase and he is just getting warmed up.
Jesus is challenging the disciples and all those listening to be transformed, to not only listen but to let their lives be challenged by the teachings.
Listening to the words of Jesus should indeed challenge us, transform us,
EVEN put us at odds with our family.
Now, some of us may be quite used to being at odds with our family members.
We were born to stir things up, press all the buttons of our loved ones.
All of our lives, we have spoken the hard truth.
AND, Some of us might flee from confrontation like my friend does when he sees a spider, he can move faster than the speed of light.
Today, Jesus has gone from preaching to, as they say in the south, Meddling.
How then do we let go of the things that bind us from living our lives fully?
How do let go of the fear of judgement and criticism that stops us in our tracks? How do we let go of the grief that paralyzes us, hinders our being transformed rather than living in anguish?
How then, Jesus shall we do this?
We don’t always know how.
Jesus, with infinite patience, with infinite compassion, with infinite joy says to each of us, “Follow me, pray with me, watch me, do like me… one step at a time.”
Jesus says,
I am here with you.
I love you.
You are needed just as you are.
You belong here
You are called to do more
Be More
DO More
Right where you are in the midst of the heat or the cool of the evening breeze.
Jesus’ words today remind us that we can be so smart and savy in so many ways. We can predict the weather, we can see the signs.
To this Jesus asks, Why can’t you see the signs that I am here in your midst?
Why do you let the world tell you otherwise?
Have no fear.
This will cause tension in the world, in your family, in your comfort zone.
Speaking truth in love is disruptive.
But lean in……
Here is some reassuring news, ….
Others have lived through times like these before us.
We are indeed surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses who have endured.
To create this historic space, the leadership of Trinity Church had to lean in, there was much division (oh I can only imagine those building committee meetings!!) and yet this amazing structure is testament to the birth of something new founded on the same truth, a desire for the world to be transformed by the Word of God.
Phillips Brooks, Nicolas LeFarge, Shipley—names that were new, leaning in together to create something new and at the same upon the same desire as those who established Trinity in 1733…that all may be welcomed into the loving embrace of God.
Church architecture is an amazing thing. In the space where the transepts meet the center aisle the roof line comes to a point…it is both the weakest and the strongest point of the space.
While here at Trinity we have the beautiful Richardson Romanesque architectural style with arches and domes, other churches do not have the domes like Trinity. Regardless of domes and arches, in this crossing space, all of the weight of the roof falls upon this space. The roof could collapse if it were not for the fact that it leans upon the opposing side (or in our case, supported by the arch and dome). By leaning in ….the force is redirected, what was once weakness and most vulnerable becomes its strongest and most stable point.
In the church, we gather in this space for baptisms, for weddings, for funerals.
It is where we are most vulnerable
and in our vulnerability we lean in and upon each other for strength.
Jesus is inviting his disciples to lean into him, into his teaching, his love, his being. In their angst and fear and division, his friends are invited to lean into the peace that comes —not through easy living but deep living through a life transformed by love.
God’s love is countercultural,
god’s love will cause division and discomfort….
If we lean in, though,
if we lean forward with love instead of running from that division,
I do believe we can continue and be strengthened together.
Leaning in requires patience and prayer, deep listening and grace.
Leaning in requires us to be willing to hold each other’s stories, honoring them, and be transformed.
To let go of Fear, of anxiety, to breathe in
and listen to each other’s hopes and pain and together see the face of God more fully.
The theologian, Henri Nouwen, says this, “As we keep our eyes directed at the One who says, ‘‘Do not be afraid,” we may slowly let go of our fear. We will learn to live in a world without zealously defended borders. We will be free to see the suffering of other people, free to respond not with defensiveness, but with compassion, with peace, with ourselves.”
God loves us just where we are and calls us in to continue to inquire,
wrestle and grow in love and grace.
How will you lean into this love this week?
Gracious God, do your work in our world – Give to us a vision of transformed lives, neighborhoods, and communities and how we can partner with you to see what can happen when people of faith make an eternal difference – living and loving and giving ourselves fully –heart, mind, and strength – to be the very presence of your love in our world. Amen![ii]
Second Sunday After Pentecost Year A 2022 Last Sunday at St. John’s- Abi Moon
1 Kings 19:1-4, (5-7), 8-15a Psalm 43 Luke 8:26-39
O Lord, make us have perpetual love and reverence for your holy Name, for you never fail to help and govern those whom you have set upon the sure foundation of your loving-kindness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Together met, together bound
by all that God has done,
we’ll go with joy, to give the world
the love that makes us one.
We live in a world of invitation.
Think about it.
Every commercial out there is inviting you to have the newest car, the best food, watch the hottest new show on television, see the new movie or buy the best deal.
Each moment we have, we are invited into a choice.
A choice to dig deeper or to escape.
A choice to delight or be disgusted
A choice to savor and to seek
A choice to destroy or build up.
In both our Old Testament readings and in our gospel reading today we hear of those who were on the edges. Elijah running from political adversaries who were after his life and the man possessed by a legion of demons. Both seeking solace, both knowing God’s presence. Both seeking a different way of life.
Both Elijah and the demoniac chose to be fully present and receive.
Both are given protection and new life.
Elijah in the still small voice
The demoniac man with freedom from possession.
A choice to listen, a choice to follow, a choice to receive.
There is a book by Martin Copenhaver and Lilian Daniels called “The Odd and Wonderous Calling” a book I received even before I arrived here in July of 2011… which spoke to the windstorms and the earthquakes of ministry, the moments where only possession could be the explanation for goings on and the still small voice of God that whispers the Holy Spirits’ longing and desire for all to be reconciled, all to be healed, all to be restored and how we are called into working together in the most wonderous and odd ways.
This past few weeks has been challenging. My heart aches for those who are wounded and have lost their lives in the senseless tragedies in our world. The storms of brokenness. In those storms we gather, we gather to seek solace and strength to be built up in order to build others up and to transform and heal the brokenness of this world.
In the past 11 years I have been graced to walk with you and gather with you and see the Holy Spirit at work in our midst. It has been humbling and awe-filled. You each have reminded me of what God looks like walking about here on earth.
And it has been in these holy sacramental moments that we have all been witnesses of God’s presence in our lives together.
We gather around this table each week, kneeling to receive. It’s a choice and one that we take willingly, joyfully, acknowledging that we come in need of God’s grace and God’s love.
We have gathered at baptisms, rejoicing as our newest members receive for the first time. Celebrating their joy.
We have gathered at weddings as a couple receives their first meal as a married couple. Supporting them in prayer and thanksgiving.
We have gathered around at ordinations- mine, Deacon Joe’s, Reverend Kathy’s celebrating calls in individuals’ lives. Walking with them in those vows.
Next week you will gather for confirmations— confirming with others their milestone on their faith journey. Welcoming those who are taking this step.
And, of course, we have gathered at funerals, celebrating the conclusion of loved ones’ lives on this earth. Giving thanks for the legacy of love given to each of us.
In each of these moments we have chosen to (as Psalm 43 states it)
go to the altar of God, to the God of my joy and gladness; * and on the harp I will give thanks to you, O God my God.
5 Why are you so full of heaviness, O my soul? * and why are you so disquieted within me?
6 Put your trust in God; * for I will yet give thanks to him, who is the help of my countenance, and my God.
We gather to accept this odd and wonderful calling of being a disciple, a follower, of a God who loves so deeply that God invites us to lean in and be found, be known, be loved.
Some days we may feel like Elijah, exhausted by those who disagree, persecuted for speaking truth and we might want to run far from the center of things.
Some days we may be like the demoniac suffering for our entire lives and finally running towards Jesus, asking/pleading for healing, for restoration and receive it immediately.
Wherever we are on this spiritual journey- God meets us right there.
And so we continue to answer this call.
Rob and I are going on to a new space.
Lonnie and the Lacy family coming to be here as your rector.
And all will be well.
AS Father Bill said last week, Change is something that is certain. The corollary to this statement is that God’s love is even more sure and certain and you, at St. John’s, knows this full and well.
The gifted leadership of your vestry and YOU serving on commissions is a beautiful example of how the church truly should be.
Being the church is coming together, accepting the invitation to be the hands and feet of Christ in each and every moment, during tornadoes, hurricanes and earthquakes.
You, too, have the invitation each day, to receive God’s love, to be fed by the bread, and to in turn “Go out into the world to love and serve the Lord.”
On our pilgrimage to England several years ago, our group of pilgrims found themselves in a church and as we awaited our tour guide to begin our guided tour, we began to look under our feet. There we found the names of the saints who were a part of the cathedral community, literally paving the way for the generations to come.
Each name beloved and etched in stone. One epitath stood out to us and we stared at it a bit. On the stone marking a former bishop’s burial space his name was stated, his dates given and then underneath the simple phrase, “Alleluia On We Go”- no accolades of merit or service, just this simple statement of joy and gladness, reflecting a call in his life. Alleluia, on we go!
God be praised, here is the path and together we go forward.
Each day we are given a choice, in the words of Mary Oliver, what will we do with this one and wild life?
In the example of Elijah and the demoniac, will we respond and listen and be freed to be restored?
As St. John’s you say “Alleluia on We Go” each time that you say “Thanks be to God” at the end of the service.
And for this I give such thanks and praise. For the moments of grace, the moments of love, the moments of learning from each of you and seeing God’s grace and love in each of you.
So dear friends, we have an odd and wonderous call, we have an amazing invitation each day to choose to follow a God who loves us.
Almighty God, on this day you opened the way of eternal life to every race and nation by the promised gift of your Holy Spirit: Shed abroad this gift throughout the world by the preaching of the Gospel, that it may reach to the ends of the earth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.—Amen.
“You just don’t understand”
These are words uttered by teenagers as they attempt to find their way in this world
Words said by young adults to an older generation
Words said by older generations to the younger ones
You just don’t understand.
We have all said these words and if we have not said them out loud, we have thought them at least once. “You just don’t understand my point of view, my position, my words, my actions, my heart, my desires and hopes… my—-fill in the blank”
For if we understood each other fully, we wouldn’t do half the of things that we do mindlessly.
If we sought to understand each other fully, we would listen with our hearts and hold out hands to each other rather than clenching our fists and digging in our heels.
Today in the book of Acts, we hear a “close encounter of the holy kind.”
Ten days ago, the disciples have just experienced Jesus’ ascension, his leaving them for heaven and fully ascending to his seat at the right hand of the father and I am guessing they have thought these words of “you just don’t understand, Jesus- we need you here, now, more of you. We aren’t done learning yet.”
Much like children anxious and fearful when learning to ride a bike, begging for those training wheels to stay on, the disciples are fearful, anxious, feeling lost, misunderstood and want what they think would make them most comfortable, most welcome.
Jesus, YOU don’t understand, we need you here.
Gathered together trying to understand, the disciples find themselves in Jerusalem with everyone else. Celebrating the festival 50days after Passover. The disciples are trying to give thanks, trying to understand, trying to find those who might listen to them deeply, sit in the mystery, sit in the sorrow, the confusion and be with each other.
And there in their midst, the Holy Spirit descends and a new comprehension occurs. While their questions are not answered, they are given the ability to speak in new languages. You just heard of all the places people came from, places far more exotic than Boston MA or Cairo GA, even more distant like Uvalde Texas, Buffalo NY, Afghanistan, Kyiv Ukraine, … people, like us, who have gathered with the need to hear the reassurance that God indeed understands our sorrow and grief with the senseless violence and pain of this world.
The Disciples gathered there in Jerusalem were able to share the words of hope, of love, of comfort with those who around them. They shared with a fire not only above their head but in their hearts, a flame ignited to embrace those who are broken, who are in need of comfort, shelter, hope.
The disciples shared this message of a God who binds up the broken hearted and brings down the lofty, equalizes the disparities in words that each person could understand.
Words spoken from the heart to the heart.
Words that invited a conversation rather than requiring a translation, words that made each person feel included and directly linked to God.
Living into the words of Catherine of Sienna, “Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire.”
When we do not feel understood a distance is created.
Lord, Help us to understand
Help our unbelief
God understands each and every one of us.
God knit us together in the womb and has made us for marvelous acts.
God’s way of helping the world to understand God was to send his son into the world so that we might more fully understand this love that God has for us. Translating to us what healing and wholeness can look like even in adversity, even in the worst of tragedies, even in— you fill in the blank.
Jesus endured all of it and showed us the way of mercy, sacrifice and justice.
The disciples on this Pentecost day welcomed the Holy Spirit into their midst and in so doing heaven came down to earth again empowering the believers to do more than they could imagine, more than they could understand and in welcoming that Holy Spirit each person was able to be the hands and feet of Christ to another.
On Pentecost Sunday, we have baptisms (as we will today at 10am!), we watch as young children (and adults) are bathed into this holy mystery of being a part of the family of God.
Being family is something we are all striving to understand each moment that we live —as we “grow in grace.”
We hear adults make those promises on those children’s behalf and we, as a congregation, will renew our own baptismal covenant promising to live lives where others might come to understand God more fully through our actions, prayers, and striving for justice and peace.
In a world of brokenness where misunderstanding and division lead too often and too quickly to violence, this Pentecost Sunday we need to listen deeply to the invitation of the holy spirit.
Come holy spirit in our midst, disrupt us in our despair, our brokenness, our paralyzed selves and reignite the fire of the call to each of us to go into this world to give comfort, be instruments of your peace, and seek to understand– extending a hand to your beloved child standing beside us, that we all might be one.
In the words of St. Francis, “Help us to understand rather than to be understood.” Help us to be “who you have meant us to be and set the world on fire with your love.”
"I will with God's Help" 