Pentecost 24, Yr. B, November 15, 2009
+So where will you be on Dec 23, 2012? If you believe all the hype associated with the just released movie “2012,” you’ll be witnessing the destruction of the earth—The Earth’s crust collapsing through earthquakes and tidal waves flooding the continents. The apocalypse. The end ,which has been anticipated by humanity for millennia, will be here. Of course the movie is a fictional, fantastical dramatization of the end times. But, regardless of how it’s depicted, the apocalypse brings an end to all things familiar ushering in something altogether new. .Apocalyptic predictions tend to cause panic in some, indifference in others. Dec 2012 is just another in a long line of drop dead dates given for end times. Remember Y2K? Water bottles, canned goods? Kerosene lanterns? People seem drawn to Armageddon. All sorts of books movies and tv are full of such imagery. Even the Bible.
Both Hebrew and New Testament scripture have apocalyptic portions…. Isaiah Jeremiah, Micah, Ezra, Revelation and, as we’ve heard today, the Book of Daniel, the Epistle to the Hebrews and the 13th chapter of Mark’s Gospel (commonly called the “little apocalypse”) all allude to a dark time when a final battle between the evil of this world and the paradise of the heavenly world will occur. Taken in their cultural context, these writings make sense. The Jewish world at that time—mainly the two centuries before and after Christ’s birth—was under siege, with various invaders marauding about. It was a time ripe for writing about the pervasive power of evil. However, to only hear these writings as a response to a particular historical moment in time is, in the opinion of most scholars, a mistake. Descriptions of the end times, pop up in the literature of all cultures throughout all eras, suggesting we should consider what it says not only about people then, but people now.
In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus, wasn’t just speaking to Peter, James, John and Andrew, he was speaking to us as well.
According to Jesuit professor and author John Kavanaugh , apocalyptic imagery works for every generation because, indeed, each generation experiences its own end of times.
Whenever what we hold as dear—whenever what we experience as fundamental to our way of life is threatened, it feels awful, it is scary and it can seem as if it is the end of the world. And in a way, well it is the end of the world. In every generation and for every people, life as trusted and known is threatened and in some cases destroyed. In our own 20th century history this has happened time and again—the Great Depression, the Holocaust, World War 2, the civil rights fight, the AIDS epidemic have all taken the world to the brink. In these and many other instances, all that those affected held dear, trusted, was torn away, turned upside down.
9/11/2001 was an apocalypse of sorts, as was the financial collapse of last year. To the folks in Ft Hood, Texas last week was an apocalypse.
Today there are people all over the world, in this country throughout this state, within this city and here at this Cathedral whose lives are turned upside down, who are experiencing there own private and personal apocalypse.
Indeed, when all that we consider fundamental—foundational-- to our lives collapses, it can feel like Armageddon, it can feel like the end.
Because when all that we hold dear collapses, it’s an end.
But, and I think this is the point, with each end comes a beginning. Now it’s not always apparent just where and how that beginning will manifest, that’s what makes it so scary, but scripture seems clear---to get to the new we must get rid of the old. The trouble is the old, no matter how flawed, is comfortable—familiar-- and we don’t want to let go of it.
Jesus, throughout his ministry, kept saying, all that you know, all that you think is important, isn’t. You must lose the old way so you are free to embrace the new.
But this transformation, this transfiguration is not easy…it gets messy and is almost always terrifying.
So, what are we to take from all of this? Should we just give up on all that we hold familiar, figuring it will all end in apocalyptic terror anyway? What should we do with all this talk of the end of time? How do we remain open to change, to a new way?
By loosening our grip.
It isn’t about giving up all that we know and all that we hold dear. It’s about keeping it all in perspective. This text is not so much a warning about our own deaths or about the end of the world as it is a commentary on fully living in this world, with an eye to the next . It is easy to get caught up in the deadlines and demands of this life, of rushing from this meeting to the next, of working toward one goal after another. To do that is to give into this world, a world that is destined for destruction, a world which will turn on itself, be it nation upon nation, or the destruction of this planet through our own abuse and neglect. Regardless of how it comes about all the earthly temporal things we work for will, one day, cease. But when all is said and done, and the last smoldering coal of earth’s demise is extinguished-- we will revel in the next world, in the company of the angels, filled and sustained by Love, that unending, never dying, always growing Love of God as known to us through Jesus Christ.
So when we read these apocalyptic stories of death and destruction should we despair in what may be the inevitable or should we celebrate the gift of love given to us through Christ?
When Jesus sits atop the Mount of Olives-- detailing the destruction of the temple—the one in Jerusalem and those each of us erect in our lives—he isn’t lamenting the inevitable of this life, he is proclaiming the Good News of eternal life. He is saying, don’t be afraid to let go, don’t hold onto the past, go boldly into the future, whatever it may bring, loving ourselves, loving our neighbors and loving the source of all Love, God.
So where will we be on Dec 23, 2012? Hopefully wherever we are we’ll be surrounded by, infused with and evoking that Love which is available to us in the birth life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. +
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
“Faith Trumps Fear, Love Trumps Doubt” Proper 23 Yr B
+Jesus, looking at him, loved him.
This is one of the most beautiful lines in all of scripture. Jesus looks deep into the soul of the rich man and through his unwavering abiding love, tells him the very thing the man fears: his wealth is standing in his way. His wealth is a barrier to the everlasting life he so earnestly desires.
The rich man hears this and then walks away, shocked and grieving.
I think many of us probably assume that’s the end of the story. A rich man asks for the key to everlasting life but not getting the answer he wants, walks away scheming on how to find a loophole, determined to hold onto his riches. But we’re not told the rest of this story, the gospel just reads that he walks away “shocked and grieving.”
He’s grieving. To grieve is to be fully aware of what just happened, but needing time to process it, to let it sink in. So the rich man may just need some time to adjust. He’s also shocked. Perhaps because a poor itinerant preacher had the audacity to tell a man of his wealth and stature to give it all up ----but I don’t think that’s it. I think he’s shocked that Jesus’ deep gaze saw through to the truth: that even though he claimed to be a faithful man, following the laws of Moses since childhood, he was faithless when it came to his wealth. Instead of taking his wealth and sharing it with others, caring for the least among him, he was hoarding it for himself, not trusting that by doing justice, by caring for the sick the hungry and the oppressed, he would be awarded with riches beyond all measure.
Jesus isn’t saying: wealth is bad. That having nice things is evil. The problem isn’t having wealth, the problem is hoarding it to the detriment of others.
Jesus knew what the rich man didn’t: that his wealth was a gift from God. A gift, which, like all of God’s gifts are not ours to hoard or to hide, but to share. The rich man wasn’t holding onto his wealth because he was evil. The rich man was holding onto his wealth because he was afraid. Although a self proclaimed devout man, adhering to the letter of the laws of faith, the man, like so many of us, is missing the spirit of the law. The spirit of the law, the spirit of our faith demands that we not just proclaim our faith, but that we live it: not letting our fear and our doubt hold us back.
Wealth doesn’t keep us from everlasting life. Fear does.
As far as I can tell, from Abraham and Sarah, [Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob Rachel and Leah] to Moses, Miriam and Aaron, through Elizabeth and Zechariah, Mary and Joseph to the Jesus of the manger, the cross and the empty tomb, we have been taught that doubt and fear render us lost and alone while faith and hope offer us a joy and peace beyond our wildest dreams.
But even with all these examples of faith trumping doubt, of hope over fear, we still doubt and we still fear.
We have a choice. We can doubt and fear or we can hope and dream. But we can’t do both. With every doubt we whittle away at hope and with every fear we squelch a dream. If the rich man really had faith in the laws of Moses he was following why did he seek out Jesus? Would a man of wealth and stature track down an itinerant preacher from the backwater if he was full of hope? I think his own fear and his own doubt had whittled away at his faith….I think the rich man was, in spite of all the material goods and social stature he had attained, empty. And he looked to Jesus to fill him--to adjust a ritual, to explain some law—so he could go on his way, happy and content. But as is usual with Jesus, the man didn’t get what he was looking for, he got what he needed. Jesus didn’t tell him how to better profess his faith, Jesus told him to live it.
The Gospel demands more than professing a faith once a week at church. The Gospel challenges us to live it. Jesus wasn’t just talking to the Rich Man, Jesus was talking to us.
The challenge of living out our faith requires us to ask: what helps us spread the good news and what hinders us? What’s important to us, what’s our heart’s desire for St Paul’s Cathedral?
Is it our building our music and our liturgies? Or is it to feed the hungry, clothe the naked and free the oppressed?
Hopefully it is both.
You see, our building, our liturgies our music don’t keep us from living the Gospel message but neither are they the Gospel message.
We don’t have all this stuff [the building the choirs…] because it’s nice, we have all this because it feeds us, strengthening us to do the work God has given us to do. We don’t ask you to pledge so we can keep this building, these choirs and these liturgies going for the sake of entertainment or aesthetic pleasure, we ask you to give money so we, as a community of faith, enriched, emboldened and empowered through our worship in here can do the work of God out there. We ask for pledges so that we can make St. Paul’s Cathedral more than a stop on an architectural tour, more than a nice venue to hear a concert, we need your pledges so we can continue to be a beacon of light for the people of Buffalo, so we can continue to offer hospitality healing and hope to all those we encounter—those who walk through our doors and those we encounter when we walk out of them.
We’ve been given all of this as a sacred trust, not an evil indulgence. Our job isn’t to fear losing it, but to rejoice in what it is-a loving testament of thanks to God, designed to strengthen us to go out, living the good news of Christ in the world.
As we enter into this stewardship season at St. Paul’s Cathedral we aren’t asking you to pledge out of fear, we’re asking you to pledge--commit your time, your talent and your treasure --out of hope. Hope that together we, as a community of faith, will be faithful live-rs of the Word for generations to come. AMEN.
This is one of the most beautiful lines in all of scripture. Jesus looks deep into the soul of the rich man and through his unwavering abiding love, tells him the very thing the man fears: his wealth is standing in his way. His wealth is a barrier to the everlasting life he so earnestly desires.
The rich man hears this and then walks away, shocked and grieving.
I think many of us probably assume that’s the end of the story. A rich man asks for the key to everlasting life but not getting the answer he wants, walks away scheming on how to find a loophole, determined to hold onto his riches. But we’re not told the rest of this story, the gospel just reads that he walks away “shocked and grieving.”
He’s grieving. To grieve is to be fully aware of what just happened, but needing time to process it, to let it sink in. So the rich man may just need some time to adjust. He’s also shocked. Perhaps because a poor itinerant preacher had the audacity to tell a man of his wealth and stature to give it all up ----but I don’t think that’s it. I think he’s shocked that Jesus’ deep gaze saw through to the truth: that even though he claimed to be a faithful man, following the laws of Moses since childhood, he was faithless when it came to his wealth. Instead of taking his wealth and sharing it with others, caring for the least among him, he was hoarding it for himself, not trusting that by doing justice, by caring for the sick the hungry and the oppressed, he would be awarded with riches beyond all measure.
Jesus isn’t saying: wealth is bad. That having nice things is evil. The problem isn’t having wealth, the problem is hoarding it to the detriment of others.
Jesus knew what the rich man didn’t: that his wealth was a gift from God. A gift, which, like all of God’s gifts are not ours to hoard or to hide, but to share. The rich man wasn’t holding onto his wealth because he was evil. The rich man was holding onto his wealth because he was afraid. Although a self proclaimed devout man, adhering to the letter of the laws of faith, the man, like so many of us, is missing the spirit of the law. The spirit of the law, the spirit of our faith demands that we not just proclaim our faith, but that we live it: not letting our fear and our doubt hold us back.
Wealth doesn’t keep us from everlasting life. Fear does.
As far as I can tell, from Abraham and Sarah, [Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob Rachel and Leah] to Moses, Miriam and Aaron, through Elizabeth and Zechariah, Mary and Joseph to the Jesus of the manger, the cross and the empty tomb, we have been taught that doubt and fear render us lost and alone while faith and hope offer us a joy and peace beyond our wildest dreams.
But even with all these examples of faith trumping doubt, of hope over fear, we still doubt and we still fear.
We have a choice. We can doubt and fear or we can hope and dream. But we can’t do both. With every doubt we whittle away at hope and with every fear we squelch a dream. If the rich man really had faith in the laws of Moses he was following why did he seek out Jesus? Would a man of wealth and stature track down an itinerant preacher from the backwater if he was full of hope? I think his own fear and his own doubt had whittled away at his faith….I think the rich man was, in spite of all the material goods and social stature he had attained, empty. And he looked to Jesus to fill him--to adjust a ritual, to explain some law—so he could go on his way, happy and content. But as is usual with Jesus, the man didn’t get what he was looking for, he got what he needed. Jesus didn’t tell him how to better profess his faith, Jesus told him to live it.
The Gospel demands more than professing a faith once a week at church. The Gospel challenges us to live it. Jesus wasn’t just talking to the Rich Man, Jesus was talking to us.
The challenge of living out our faith requires us to ask: what helps us spread the good news and what hinders us? What’s important to us, what’s our heart’s desire for St Paul’s Cathedral?
Is it our building our music and our liturgies? Or is it to feed the hungry, clothe the naked and free the oppressed?
Hopefully it is both.
You see, our building, our liturgies our music don’t keep us from living the Gospel message but neither are they the Gospel message.
We don’t have all this stuff [the building the choirs…] because it’s nice, we have all this because it feeds us, strengthening us to do the work God has given us to do. We don’t ask you to pledge so we can keep this building, these choirs and these liturgies going for the sake of entertainment or aesthetic pleasure, we ask you to give money so we, as a community of faith, enriched, emboldened and empowered through our worship in here can do the work of God out there. We ask for pledges so that we can make St. Paul’s Cathedral more than a stop on an architectural tour, more than a nice venue to hear a concert, we need your pledges so we can continue to be a beacon of light for the people of Buffalo, so we can continue to offer hospitality healing and hope to all those we encounter—those who walk through our doors and those we encounter when we walk out of them.
We’ve been given all of this as a sacred trust, not an evil indulgence. Our job isn’t to fear losing it, but to rejoice in what it is-a loving testament of thanks to God, designed to strengthen us to go out, living the good news of Christ in the world.
As we enter into this stewardship season at St. Paul’s Cathedral we aren’t asking you to pledge out of fear, we’re asking you to pledge--commit your time, your talent and your treasure --out of hope. Hope that together we, as a community of faith, will be faithful live-rs of the Word for generations to come. AMEN.
Monday, September 21, 2009
The Courage of Letting Others be First
Proper 20, Year B. Sermon preached at St. Paul's Cathedral, Buffalo New York, 20 September 2009
I must be getting old. As I drive around the city I find myself rolling up my windows so I don’t hear the rude and disrespectful language being tossed about on the street. Young people, middle aged people, older people…there doesn’t seem to be an age limit.
Sometimes I wonder what’s happening in the world. Politicians, entertainers, sports figures and regular people seem to have reached new lows when it comes to respecting the dignity of every human being. Never before have we seen such disrespect on public view, whether it be on the stage at music awards, the tennis courts of the US Open or the floor of a joint session of congress. These past few weeks have caused me to question the decorum of our culture.
But then, just when I wondered where civility had gone, where respect lost its way and where dignity became something to avoid instead of embrace, I am buoyed by flashes of grace.
After the debacle, which was Serena Williams’ tirade at the US Open, there was still a final match to be played. After Kim Clijsters won, we saw her 18 month old daughter Jada, delighting in seeing herself displayed on the gigantic video board at the tennis center. She really couldn’t get enough of it….it wasn’t some self serving look at me, it was simple joy at being able to see her mommy and herself up on the screen. There was something so innocent and sweet about the scene. Through the genuine joy displayed by this child the distasteful tirade of the previous day melted away and I was transported to a simpler place, transported to a fundamental truth of faith: that our life is a miraculous gift from God intended for our joy. God wants us to embrace life as innocently and joyously as a child.
In Jesus’ time a child was not necessarily embraced as an exemplar of innocence. Children really had no status, and when he tells his disciples to receive the kingdom as a little child, he is being tremendously counter cultural. To assume the position of a child was to lower oneself to a status no one would voluntarily ascribe to. Children fell in the same category as all the other near-do-wells he hung out with: women, tax collectors, Gentiles. But the point Jesus is trying to make is not that we should give up our dignity willy nilly, but that we should, out of our dignity, offer dignity to everyone else. Not just those who we feel have earned it,, but everyone. People we love, people we don’t love, people who are like us, and people who aren’t. Everyone. No Exceptions.
Sgt 1st Class Jared Monti understood this, he lived it and died it. Sgt Monti was posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Honor this past week, for valor displayed on a battlefield in Afghanistan. Sgt. Monti not once, not twice but three times ran directly into enemy fire attempting to rescue one of his men. Many soldiers would have sent an underling to do the job, but when another soldier said he would go attempt the rescue, Monti stopped him saying, “no he is my guy and I will get him.” He didn’t get him, but he died trying, and as he lay mortally wounded this Sgt. First Class from Massachusetts first recited the Lord’s Prayer and then said :
“I’ve made peace with God. Tell my family I love them.” Then he died. His final earthly act was to offer praise and thanksgiving to God and his family. Monti’s actions were selfless and brave.
Jared Monti lived Jesus’ message as heard in today’s Gospel: "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all." For Jared, the last must be first and the first will be last. Jared Monti was selfless.
Today we recognize Sgt Monti as a hero and we grieve for his family…the image of his heroics help counteract the boorish behavior we’ve witnessed elsewhere. The reality is that the actions of Serena Williams, congress-people, church leaders get far more press than the actions of Sgt. Monti and the thousands of other people who follow the lessons of our faith every day. Why?
Because our culture seems to embrace another gospel, the gospel of me first. Of fleeting glory, of striving to be number one no matter whom we may step on to get there. A culture of denigrating the next guy for our own gain.
This human tendency to focus on earthly things is noted in today’s reading from the Letter of James: “For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind….conflicts and disputes come from our cravings, cravings which are at war within us.”
Envy and self ambition breed disorder…..when we covet that which is not from above….when we covet earthly glory , we become disordered, angry and bitter, and these negative feelings block us, they cloud our judgment leaving us ranting on tennis courts, in the halls of congress on the street corner, in our churches and living rooms. When we become focused on the glory of the world instead of the glory of God, our thinking becomes distorted, our minds jumbled. It is the task of each of us to clear our minds to stop railing at one another, to stop jockeying for position and stop trying to out do the other guy. It’s time for us to reject the projected behavior of our culture and embrace the behavior of the innocent, the brave, the dignified of our world.
Now we needn’t beat ourselves up for being more of this life than the next…even the disciples were caught up in the status and prestige of this world, more concerned with who was the greatest among them instead of listening to the greatest of all. Jesus was saying to them and to us : do as I do, be servant to all, for in that servant-hood you’ll find the key to everlasting life.
The unbridled joy of a child, the unwavering loyalty of a friend and comrade, the grieving hearts of mourning parents remind us that to be first in the kingdom of God we must respect each other, cherish each other and delight in each other. Perhaps our final hymn today, “Tell Out My Soul,” a hymn of the Virgin Mary, no doubt the most selfless person of all, puts it best: “put proud hearts and stubborn wills to flight so the hungry can be fed and the humble lifted high.”
Amen.
I must be getting old. As I drive around the city I find myself rolling up my windows so I don’t hear the rude and disrespectful language being tossed about on the street. Young people, middle aged people, older people…there doesn’t seem to be an age limit.
Sometimes I wonder what’s happening in the world. Politicians, entertainers, sports figures and regular people seem to have reached new lows when it comes to respecting the dignity of every human being. Never before have we seen such disrespect on public view, whether it be on the stage at music awards, the tennis courts of the US Open or the floor of a joint session of congress. These past few weeks have caused me to question the decorum of our culture.
But then, just when I wondered where civility had gone, where respect lost its way and where dignity became something to avoid instead of embrace, I am buoyed by flashes of grace.
After the debacle, which was Serena Williams’ tirade at the US Open, there was still a final match to be played. After Kim Clijsters won, we saw her 18 month old daughter Jada, delighting in seeing herself displayed on the gigantic video board at the tennis center. She really couldn’t get enough of it….it wasn’t some self serving look at me, it was simple joy at being able to see her mommy and herself up on the screen. There was something so innocent and sweet about the scene. Through the genuine joy displayed by this child the distasteful tirade of the previous day melted away and I was transported to a simpler place, transported to a fundamental truth of faith: that our life is a miraculous gift from God intended for our joy. God wants us to embrace life as innocently and joyously as a child.
In Jesus’ time a child was not necessarily embraced as an exemplar of innocence. Children really had no status, and when he tells his disciples to receive the kingdom as a little child, he is being tremendously counter cultural. To assume the position of a child was to lower oneself to a status no one would voluntarily ascribe to. Children fell in the same category as all the other near-do-wells he hung out with: women, tax collectors, Gentiles. But the point Jesus is trying to make is not that we should give up our dignity willy nilly, but that we should, out of our dignity, offer dignity to everyone else. Not just those who we feel have earned it,, but everyone. People we love, people we don’t love, people who are like us, and people who aren’t. Everyone. No Exceptions.
Sgt 1st Class Jared Monti understood this, he lived it and died it. Sgt Monti was posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Honor this past week, for valor displayed on a battlefield in Afghanistan. Sgt. Monti not once, not twice but three times ran directly into enemy fire attempting to rescue one of his men. Many soldiers would have sent an underling to do the job, but when another soldier said he would go attempt the rescue, Monti stopped him saying, “no he is my guy and I will get him.” He didn’t get him, but he died trying, and as he lay mortally wounded this Sgt. First Class from Massachusetts first recited the Lord’s Prayer and then said :
“I’ve made peace with God. Tell my family I love them.” Then he died. His final earthly act was to offer praise and thanksgiving to God and his family. Monti’s actions were selfless and brave.
Jared Monti lived Jesus’ message as heard in today’s Gospel: "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all." For Jared, the last must be first and the first will be last. Jared Monti was selfless.
Today we recognize Sgt Monti as a hero and we grieve for his family…the image of his heroics help counteract the boorish behavior we’ve witnessed elsewhere. The reality is that the actions of Serena Williams, congress-people, church leaders get far more press than the actions of Sgt. Monti and the thousands of other people who follow the lessons of our faith every day. Why?
Because our culture seems to embrace another gospel, the gospel of me first. Of fleeting glory, of striving to be number one no matter whom we may step on to get there. A culture of denigrating the next guy for our own gain.
This human tendency to focus on earthly things is noted in today’s reading from the Letter of James: “For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind….conflicts and disputes come from our cravings, cravings which are at war within us.”
Envy and self ambition breed disorder…..when we covet that which is not from above….when we covet earthly glory , we become disordered, angry and bitter, and these negative feelings block us, they cloud our judgment leaving us ranting on tennis courts, in the halls of congress on the street corner, in our churches and living rooms. When we become focused on the glory of the world instead of the glory of God, our thinking becomes distorted, our minds jumbled. It is the task of each of us to clear our minds to stop railing at one another, to stop jockeying for position and stop trying to out do the other guy. It’s time for us to reject the projected behavior of our culture and embrace the behavior of the innocent, the brave, the dignified of our world.
Now we needn’t beat ourselves up for being more of this life than the next…even the disciples were caught up in the status and prestige of this world, more concerned with who was the greatest among them instead of listening to the greatest of all. Jesus was saying to them and to us : do as I do, be servant to all, for in that servant-hood you’ll find the key to everlasting life.
The unbridled joy of a child, the unwavering loyalty of a friend and comrade, the grieving hearts of mourning parents remind us that to be first in the kingdom of God we must respect each other, cherish each other and delight in each other. Perhaps our final hymn today, “Tell Out My Soul,” a hymn of the Virgin Mary, no doubt the most selfless person of all, puts it best: “put proud hearts and stubborn wills to flight so the hungry can be fed and the humble lifted high.”
Amen.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Reading the Bible Again for the First Time
Our Bible study for the fall is using the book mentioned above, by Marcus Borg, as our guide. Last night was the first meeting and our discussion was, as usual, wide ranging, animated and great fun.
We will skip next week as it is Chicken BBQ day and a couple of us can't make it through that and the study....;-) so our next meeting will be WED. SEPT. 30 7PM- 8:30 PM at MY HOUSE. (note change in location). See you then!
We will skip next week as it is Chicken BBQ day and a couple of us can't make it through that and the study....;-) so our next meeting will be WED. SEPT. 30 7PM- 8:30 PM at MY HOUSE. (note change in location). See you then!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
The Pharisees Weren't Such Bad Guys
The Pharisees weren’t such bad guys. It’s easy to ridicule them, to laugh at them. After all, they are often the targets of Jesus’ harshest retorts and we, having 20/20 hindsight can snicker and say, “How could they have been so blind?”
But you know we often wear the same blinders as the Pharisees. They were appalled that Jesus ate with sinners, unclean people, and tax collectors! Don’t we all have that friend—that person your other friends just don’t ‘get” that person who maybe doesn’t quite fit in? Others may never understand her, but you do, you see something they don’t and so you continue to hang out with the outsider. You see them differently than others. You see beyond what may appear on the surface. For whatever reason you’ve taken a closer look-- you’ve opened your heart to theirs and they’ve open their heart to you. Out of that trust comes friendship. A friendship you wouldn’t have if you hadn’t taken the time to listen, to look and to fully see.
But to those who haven’t taken the time, your friendship with this person remains incomprehensible and hard to take. It seems wrong.
To the Pharisees, Jesus’ actions—his choice of friends, his teachings and his apparent disregard for the rituals of the Jewish faith—were incomprehensible, hard to take and wrong. Jesus was taking everything they loved, everything the held dear, everything they knew and messing with it. When all that you hold dear, all that is familiar and comfortable is threatened, its really easy to become hopping mad.
We in the Anglican tradition, in the Episcopal church are all too familiar with such feelings. The ordination of women, the “new” prayer book, the consecration of Bishop Gene Robinson. People walked out the doors of this Cathedral because of such changes. Every denomination has these upheavals, every religion, every organization. Changes move us out of our comfort zones, and in this fast paced always changing world, comfort zones are important…comfort zones can be, dare I say, sacred.
Sacred cows. We all have them. Families, societies, religions, and parish churches in downtown Buffalo have them. The Pharisees had them too. A sacred cow is simply something which a group has determined to be untouchable, tamper proof, free from editing. Sacred cows generally develop over time and when asked to explain the origin of the sacred cow, we often just shrug and say “well we’ve always done it this way.” Because what matters isn’t how or why it started, what matters is that the action, whatever it is, has been sanctified through tradition.
Our liturgies are full of such traditions. Regardless of the original purpose, our liturgical actions, so familiar to us, have taken on the aura of sanctity.
A great deal of what we do here on a Sunday morning was at one point functional. Processions became a way to move large groups of people from one place to another in an orderly fashion, Sanctus bells helped mark actions happening just out of the congregation’s view, candles provided light before electricity, etc. Over time, though, these actions moved from functionality to sanctity.
But you see, many of these things are enhancements .Our worship is enhanced by candles, music, beautiful vestments and this glorious building. Enhanced. Not validated. Not necessary. Enhanced.
We set aside this place this time and these ceremonies—these instruments of our faith-- to be nourished in our faith, strengthened to do the work God has given us to do.
We get into trouble when our special clothing and music, our candles and bells, our incense and chanting becomes the end instead of the means. We get into trouble when we confuse our rituals with our faith.
And that is exactly what Jesus was saying to the Pharisees in today’s Gospel. Washing of hands is a way to respect God, to consume the gifts of God with reverence and humility. But washing of hands is not what makes something holy. What makes something holy is our full and complete faith in God and the trust that all we need is available through God. To be truly holy we must open ourselves up to that trust, we must release the stranglehold we have on our hearts and allow the Love of God to take up sole residence deep within us. If, after doing that, we engage in rituals to keep us focused, to place us in a holy state of mind, fine….but we must begin with our faith written on our hearts, for if we don’t begin there then our chanting, our kneeling, our processing, our vestments, our vessels and our glorious surroundings become, to use the words of our patron, St Paul, “a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal,” not signifying much of anything.
Jesus wasn’t against ritual, Jesus was against rituals that miss the point, rituals that usurp instead of enhance the Holy.
As I wrote this sermon Friday morning, the services for both Lt. Charles Mc Carthy and FF Jonathon Croom were being held around the corner at St. Joe’s. What I witnessed as each funeral cortège carried their bodies to the cathedral was a ritual which was steeped in the Holy, much pomp and circumstance, signifying something. A ritual which displayed the brother and sisterhood of firefighters the world over, a ritual which helped me remember that nothing is as holy as a person who will run into a burning building to save his brother or sister. Those firefighters who lined the streets in downtown Buffalo on Friday know what is sacred, they know what is Holy-- the rituals they employed to honor the lives of their comrades, helped us all to see the Holy. No doubt Jesus, heartbroken with the rest of us was also pleased, for these men and women clearly get what ritual is all about.
Jesus was telling the Pharisees then and is telling us now---don’t lose sight of the forest of faith for the trees of ritual. For it is the act of meeting the holy, it is the act of opening ourselves fully to the presence of God, which is sacred.
AMEN.
But you know we often wear the same blinders as the Pharisees. They were appalled that Jesus ate with sinners, unclean people, and tax collectors! Don’t we all have that friend—that person your other friends just don’t ‘get” that person who maybe doesn’t quite fit in? Others may never understand her, but you do, you see something they don’t and so you continue to hang out with the outsider. You see them differently than others. You see beyond what may appear on the surface. For whatever reason you’ve taken a closer look-- you’ve opened your heart to theirs and they’ve open their heart to you. Out of that trust comes friendship. A friendship you wouldn’t have if you hadn’t taken the time to listen, to look and to fully see.
But to those who haven’t taken the time, your friendship with this person remains incomprehensible and hard to take. It seems wrong.
To the Pharisees, Jesus’ actions—his choice of friends, his teachings and his apparent disregard for the rituals of the Jewish faith—were incomprehensible, hard to take and wrong. Jesus was taking everything they loved, everything the held dear, everything they knew and messing with it. When all that you hold dear, all that is familiar and comfortable is threatened, its really easy to become hopping mad.
We in the Anglican tradition, in the Episcopal church are all too familiar with such feelings. The ordination of women, the “new” prayer book, the consecration of Bishop Gene Robinson. People walked out the doors of this Cathedral because of such changes. Every denomination has these upheavals, every religion, every organization. Changes move us out of our comfort zones, and in this fast paced always changing world, comfort zones are important…comfort zones can be, dare I say, sacred.
Sacred cows. We all have them. Families, societies, religions, and parish churches in downtown Buffalo have them. The Pharisees had them too. A sacred cow is simply something which a group has determined to be untouchable, tamper proof, free from editing. Sacred cows generally develop over time and when asked to explain the origin of the sacred cow, we often just shrug and say “well we’ve always done it this way.” Because what matters isn’t how or why it started, what matters is that the action, whatever it is, has been sanctified through tradition.
Our liturgies are full of such traditions. Regardless of the original purpose, our liturgical actions, so familiar to us, have taken on the aura of sanctity.
A great deal of what we do here on a Sunday morning was at one point functional. Processions became a way to move large groups of people from one place to another in an orderly fashion, Sanctus bells helped mark actions happening just out of the congregation’s view, candles provided light before electricity, etc. Over time, though, these actions moved from functionality to sanctity.
But you see, many of these things are enhancements .Our worship is enhanced by candles, music, beautiful vestments and this glorious building. Enhanced. Not validated. Not necessary. Enhanced.
We set aside this place this time and these ceremonies—these instruments of our faith-- to be nourished in our faith, strengthened to do the work God has given us to do.
We get into trouble when our special clothing and music, our candles and bells, our incense and chanting becomes the end instead of the means. We get into trouble when we confuse our rituals with our faith.
And that is exactly what Jesus was saying to the Pharisees in today’s Gospel. Washing of hands is a way to respect God, to consume the gifts of God with reverence and humility. But washing of hands is not what makes something holy. What makes something holy is our full and complete faith in God and the trust that all we need is available through God. To be truly holy we must open ourselves up to that trust, we must release the stranglehold we have on our hearts and allow the Love of God to take up sole residence deep within us. If, after doing that, we engage in rituals to keep us focused, to place us in a holy state of mind, fine….but we must begin with our faith written on our hearts, for if we don’t begin there then our chanting, our kneeling, our processing, our vestments, our vessels and our glorious surroundings become, to use the words of our patron, St Paul, “a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal,” not signifying much of anything.
Jesus wasn’t against ritual, Jesus was against rituals that miss the point, rituals that usurp instead of enhance the Holy.
As I wrote this sermon Friday morning, the services for both Lt. Charles Mc Carthy and FF Jonathon Croom were being held around the corner at St. Joe’s. What I witnessed as each funeral cortège carried their bodies to the cathedral was a ritual which was steeped in the Holy, much pomp and circumstance, signifying something. A ritual which displayed the brother and sisterhood of firefighters the world over, a ritual which helped me remember that nothing is as holy as a person who will run into a burning building to save his brother or sister. Those firefighters who lined the streets in downtown Buffalo on Friday know what is sacred, they know what is Holy-- the rituals they employed to honor the lives of their comrades, helped us all to see the Holy. No doubt Jesus, heartbroken with the rest of us was also pleased, for these men and women clearly get what ritual is all about.
Jesus was telling the Pharisees then and is telling us now---don’t lose sight of the forest of faith for the trees of ritual. For it is the act of meeting the holy, it is the act of opening ourselves fully to the presence of God, which is sacred.
AMEN.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Are You Going to Eat That?
Sermon for Pentecost X
Last Sunday I was having brunch with old friends. Our table bustled with the joyful noise of family: Cousins poking each other, sisters laughing, a mom and dad overseeing the whole display, brimming with glee. I was privileged to be part of this gathering, not being related in any technical way with the group. But there I was, invited into this family, through love. At the end of the meal, my friend Mark reaches over and, with a piece of toast, sops up my leftover egg. In some circles this may be considered crass or rude, but it wasn’t. No this was an act of love. An intimate act of familiarity between good friends. No worries about social mores, of what others may think---just one person being drawn to something the other has. This wasn’t a hostile acquisition. This man, whom I love like a brother, reached across in the familiarity of old friends and absorbed what I had left. It was one of the most intimate and loving acts I have ever witnessed. We laughed about it remarking, “he just couldn’t stand seeing that leftover yolk sitting there, he had to eat it.” Mark was drawn to what I had and, in our mutual love, he felt comfortable enough to take it. And I felt comfortable enough to give it.
While much grander than any egg yolk on a breakfast plate, God’s love also pulls, beckoning us to partake.
The German theologian, Karl Rahner describes this attraction, this pull, this being drawn toward as fundamental to our human nature. As Rahner sees it, the Holy Mystery which is God, indescribable, unidentifiable, difficult to grasp, is so attractive to us that if we just stop trying to explain, quantify and tame it allowing ourselves to be taken in to be drawn, we will find rest in the loving embrace of God.
The problem is, according to Rahner, while this draw toward the Holy Mystery is part of our human nature, within our DNA, so is our desire for definition, prescription and certainty. We may feel a tug toward God but before giving into that pull we want to dissect, inspect and diagnose it.
That’s what was happening in today’s Gospel , smack dab in the middle of what is known as John’s “Bread of Life Discourse.” Jesus is explaining that he isn’t just some itinerant preacher from the backwater of Galilee, son of Mary and Joseph….no he is God’s Son, God in the flesh sent to us by our creator who is so drawn to us, so wants to reach us that he came to walk among us, to bring us home.
It’s easy as we hear these gospel excerpts to get caught up in the earthly image the words depict: Jesus’ flesh is the Bread of Life, a bread we must partake of to enter into eternal life with God. Not an easy image—it never has been. The early church was often accused of cannibalism—I think it’s easy to understand why. To this day it’s a popular way for detractors to condemn Christianity in general and our own Anglican belief in the Real Presence at Eucharist in particular, but to get caught up in that minutiae is to miss the point.
As Biblical Scholar Ray Brown states: The Jesus of John used language of this world to refer to the realities of the world from which he came.” (pg378 Intro to New Testament).
Jesus is using language we are familiar with to try and explain God. To try and explain a mystery so incomprehensible, so impossible to describe that whenever humans have tried to put words to it, we’ve failed. Speak to anyone who has had a near death experience----they try to explain a bright light, a peacefulness beyond anything they’ve ever known…but in the end they admit--words fail them. The ancient Jews knew the inexplicableness of God so well so they would never attempt to speak the name of God... They knew then, as we know now, that comprehending God’s full nature is beyond us. God’s love is so immense and so all encompassing we cannot tame it, we cannot hold it and we cannot describe it.
And therein lies the tension so clearly described in today’s Gospel reading.
Jesus is talking about all things heavenly, but he is heard with ears firmly encased in all things earthly. Jesus states that he is the Bread of Life. Not the bread of Moses, not the bread of bakers, or the bread of grocery aisles, but the bread of God, the bread of eternal light, the bread of a love so great, so immense, so massive it defies description, breaking free of the constraints of language, it knows no bounds.
Yes, Jesus is the Bread of Life but to receive this bread, to eat of it always we must embrace God in the person of Jesus Christ, allowing ourselves to be caught up in God’s mutual draw: our draw toward God and God’s reaching out toward us. To be caught up in this love means we must empty ourselves of our inhibitions, our worries, our doubts and come to the altar of God to be fed--fed with a love which we don’t earn, a love we needn’t understand and a love we can’t define….a love which, when we let go, will wash over us, a love we can sop up with the toast of our souls, a love which. when we’re open to receiving it, is a never ending meal of sacrifice and thanksgiving nourishing us as nothing else can.
In a few moments we’ll break bread together, presenting ourselves at this altar full of failings, full of questions and full of fear. Leave those here and walk away filled with the Bread of Life. A Bread which, while incomprehensible to each and every one of us, nourishes us in ways we cannot imagine yet so desperately crave.
Amen+
Last Sunday I was having brunch with old friends. Our table bustled with the joyful noise of family: Cousins poking each other, sisters laughing, a mom and dad overseeing the whole display, brimming with glee. I was privileged to be part of this gathering, not being related in any technical way with the group. But there I was, invited into this family, through love. At the end of the meal, my friend Mark reaches over and, with a piece of toast, sops up my leftover egg. In some circles this may be considered crass or rude, but it wasn’t. No this was an act of love. An intimate act of familiarity between good friends. No worries about social mores, of what others may think---just one person being drawn to something the other has. This wasn’t a hostile acquisition. This man, whom I love like a brother, reached across in the familiarity of old friends and absorbed what I had left. It was one of the most intimate and loving acts I have ever witnessed. We laughed about it remarking, “he just couldn’t stand seeing that leftover yolk sitting there, he had to eat it.” Mark was drawn to what I had and, in our mutual love, he felt comfortable enough to take it. And I felt comfortable enough to give it.
While much grander than any egg yolk on a breakfast plate, God’s love also pulls, beckoning us to partake.
The German theologian, Karl Rahner describes this attraction, this pull, this being drawn toward as fundamental to our human nature. As Rahner sees it, the Holy Mystery which is God, indescribable, unidentifiable, difficult to grasp, is so attractive to us that if we just stop trying to explain, quantify and tame it allowing ourselves to be taken in to be drawn, we will find rest in the loving embrace of God.
The problem is, according to Rahner, while this draw toward the Holy Mystery is part of our human nature, within our DNA, so is our desire for definition, prescription and certainty. We may feel a tug toward God but before giving into that pull we want to dissect, inspect and diagnose it.
That’s what was happening in today’s Gospel , smack dab in the middle of what is known as John’s “Bread of Life Discourse.” Jesus is explaining that he isn’t just some itinerant preacher from the backwater of Galilee, son of Mary and Joseph….no he is God’s Son, God in the flesh sent to us by our creator who is so drawn to us, so wants to reach us that he came to walk among us, to bring us home.
It’s easy as we hear these gospel excerpts to get caught up in the earthly image the words depict: Jesus’ flesh is the Bread of Life, a bread we must partake of to enter into eternal life with God. Not an easy image—it never has been. The early church was often accused of cannibalism—I think it’s easy to understand why. To this day it’s a popular way for detractors to condemn Christianity in general and our own Anglican belief in the Real Presence at Eucharist in particular, but to get caught up in that minutiae is to miss the point.
As Biblical Scholar Ray Brown states: The Jesus of John used language of this world to refer to the realities of the world from which he came.” (pg378 Intro to New Testament).
Jesus is using language we are familiar with to try and explain God. To try and explain a mystery so incomprehensible, so impossible to describe that whenever humans have tried to put words to it, we’ve failed. Speak to anyone who has had a near death experience----they try to explain a bright light, a peacefulness beyond anything they’ve ever known…but in the end they admit--words fail them. The ancient Jews knew the inexplicableness of God so well so they would never attempt to speak the name of God... They knew then, as we know now, that comprehending God’s full nature is beyond us. God’s love is so immense and so all encompassing we cannot tame it, we cannot hold it and we cannot describe it.
And therein lies the tension so clearly described in today’s Gospel reading.
Jesus is talking about all things heavenly, but he is heard with ears firmly encased in all things earthly. Jesus states that he is the Bread of Life. Not the bread of Moses, not the bread of bakers, or the bread of grocery aisles, but the bread of God, the bread of eternal light, the bread of a love so great, so immense, so massive it defies description, breaking free of the constraints of language, it knows no bounds.
Yes, Jesus is the Bread of Life but to receive this bread, to eat of it always we must embrace God in the person of Jesus Christ, allowing ourselves to be caught up in God’s mutual draw: our draw toward God and God’s reaching out toward us. To be caught up in this love means we must empty ourselves of our inhibitions, our worries, our doubts and come to the altar of God to be fed--fed with a love which we don’t earn, a love we needn’t understand and a love we can’t define….a love which, when we let go, will wash over us, a love we can sop up with the toast of our souls, a love which. when we’re open to receiving it, is a never ending meal of sacrifice and thanksgiving nourishing us as nothing else can.
In a few moments we’ll break bread together, presenting ourselves at this altar full of failings, full of questions and full of fear. Leave those here and walk away filled with the Bread of Life. A Bread which, while incomprehensible to each and every one of us, nourishes us in ways we cannot imagine yet so desperately crave.
Amen+
Friday, August 7, 2009
Volunteer Opportunity for Youth
Wing Fest 2009 seeks help for Kids Fun Zone-
Wing Fest is happy to partner this year with WNED on the Kids Fun Zone and a fantastic special event on Sunday of the festival weekend. In keeping with the long-established literacy theme of the Kids Fun Zone, we are looking for help before/during/after the big Electric Company "main event" at noon on Sunday, Sept. 6 (the national circuit tour is the 5th stop on a 20-city launch of the "reinvented" Electric Company); and for all day on Saturday with a Sesame Street theme and many kids' activities in the "zone" tent for Ready-to-Learn, Sesame St. and Electric Company. Contact me here with your availability and contact info (name/address/ph/email); or for questions and/or more info/donations...
We are seeking:
--Volunteers! Mature 16 years or older; or mature 12-15 with a parent/chaperone--please notify if less than 18 yrs of age and provide parent contact info
We are looking for about 10 volunteers per shift for the Kids Fun Zone area (four hours if possible, minimum 2 hours please) and up to 50 volunteers during the "main event" on Sunday on the park stage
There will be a volunteer orientation at WNED Studios (140 Lower Terrace) from 4:30-6:00 on Thursday, August 27.
If you'd like to volunteer, but can't make the orientation, sign up for a slot and we will send you an info "packet"
--WNY Literacy agency info and giveaways (fridge magnets, key chains, DVDs, stickers, etc.--you know: CHOCHKEYS!)
--Books for kids' book give away. We anticipate needing about 1500 books (new or gently used) with a preference (where possible) for (age 0-12) Sesame St./Think Bright themes like all Sesame St., Martha Speaks, Clifford the Big Red Dog, Super Why, Arthur, etc. Also, books through teen age.
Tasks and activity centers will include:
Set-up and tear down for zone and "main event"
Electric Company Tour event registration
Runners (main stage and kids zone for "main event")
Post "show" interactive audience activities and redirection from ballpark to kids fun zone
Craft table/activity assistance (Monster Mural, picture frame decoration, word games/coloring, jump rope/ball bounce with rhyming songs, prize wheel, crown decoration)
Face painting/tattoo application (adhesive!)
Book give away table monitors/supervision
Please send in your numbers/names/contact info and times for sign-ups weekly so we can track our needs and keep filling slots for full coverage! email me at lva.sherry@gmail.com or fax to the studio at 845-7036 to attn: Pat Ragin.
Can you let us know what you might have in the way of chochkeys, books and service lit asap--with quantities?
If you can think of others to who might be a source for volunteers, please fwd this message and let us know who to contact to follow up.
Finally, if you are serving families, can you help us to publicize the Kids Fun Zone? Let us know if you can post a flyer...we'll send to you via e-file. We are hoping for good weather and a great turn-out!
Hoping to see you at Wing Fest 2009!
Wing Fest is happy to partner this year with WNED on the Kids Fun Zone and a fantastic special event on Sunday of the festival weekend. In keeping with the long-established literacy theme of the Kids Fun Zone, we are looking for help before/during/after the big Electric Company "main event" at noon on Sunday, Sept. 6 (the national circuit tour is the 5th stop on a 20-city launch of the "reinvented" Electric Company); and for all day on Saturday with a Sesame Street theme and many kids' activities in the "zone" tent for Ready-to-Learn, Sesame St. and Electric Company. Contact me here with your availability and contact info (name/address/ph/email); or for questions and/or more info/donations...
We are seeking:
--Volunteers! Mature 16 years or older; or mature 12-15 with a parent/chaperone--please notify if less than 18 yrs of age and provide parent contact info
We are looking for about 10 volunteers per shift for the Kids Fun Zone area (four hours if possible, minimum 2 hours please) and up to 50 volunteers during the "main event" on Sunday on the park stage
There will be a volunteer orientation at WNED Studios (140 Lower Terrace) from 4:30-6:00 on Thursday, August 27.
If you'd like to volunteer, but can't make the orientation, sign up for a slot and we will send you an info "packet"
--WNY Literacy agency info and giveaways (fridge magnets, key chains, DVDs, stickers, etc.--you know: CHOCHKEYS!)
--Books for kids' book give away. We anticipate needing about 1500 books (new or gently used) with a preference (where possible) for (age 0-12) Sesame St./Think Bright themes like all Sesame St., Martha Speaks, Clifford the Big Red Dog, Super Why, Arthur, etc. Also, books through teen age.
Tasks and activity centers will include:
Set-up and tear down for zone and "main event"
Electric Company Tour event registration
Runners (main stage and kids zone for "main event")
Post "show" interactive audience activities and redirection from ballpark to kids fun zone
Craft table/activity assistance (Monster Mural, picture frame decoration, word games/coloring, jump rope/ball bounce with rhyming songs, prize wheel, crown decoration)
Face painting/tattoo application (adhesive!)
Book give away table monitors/supervision
Please send in your numbers/names/contact info and times for sign-ups weekly so we can track our needs and keep filling slots for full coverage! email me at lva.sherry@gmail.com or fax to the studio at 845-7036 to attn: Pat Ragin.
Can you let us know what you might have in the way of chochkeys, books and service lit asap--with quantities?
If you can think of others to who might be a source for volunteers, please fwd this message and let us know who to contact to follow up.
Finally, if you are serving families, can you help us to publicize the Kids Fun Zone? Let us know if you can post a flyer...we'll send to you via e-file. We are hoping for good weather and a great turn-out!
Hoping to see you at Wing Fest 2009!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
