Second Sunday after Pentecost Proper 5, June 7 2026, St. Martha and Mary, Eagan MN

Second Sunday after Pentecost Proper 5, June 7 2026, St. Martha and Mary, Eagan MN
Genesis 12:1-9, Psalm 33:1-12, Romans 4:13-25, Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

I was in seminary with a lot of Lutherans. Lutherans are funny people, and I think they think Episcopalians are peculiar people. But I digress. My Lutheran classmates, even by the time they got to seminary, already had it in their DNA, that a sermon is structured thusly - tell a story, followed by a three point sermon, tell another story. Simple. I’ve never knowingly written or preached a sermon following that structure, but today I find my self with the three points. So, if you hear nothing else, hear this

Faith is a risk - Mercy is the cost - Blessing is the work

Faith is a risk. Oh my gosh, this story of Abram. Up to this point in Genesis, the whole first twelve chapters is a crazy sweeping story of creation, and turning away from God, and a flood, and confusion, and the pride and arrogance of Babylon. And then, this major transition at chapter 12 when Abram is introduced, and chosen. The Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you..” You know the rest. 

We are never told how a refugee from Mesopotamia would even know who the Lord, Yahweh, is, or even why Yahweh would bother with him. There is evidence in Joshua that Abraham and his brother and father and family, gasp, served other gods, that means they worshipped idols, remember, there were lots to choose from. Welcome to the Bible, details are rarely given. So once we meet Abram in Genesis 12, the action moves. “Hi Abram; I’m the God Yahweh. Now, follow me to an unknown place so I can make you the father of a new nation and a source of blessing for everyone else.” 

In this story, Yahweh, God, promises that Abram, who will be Abraham, - an aside - notice how names are changed when transformation happens, Abram to Abraham, Saul to Paul, Simon to Peter - fascinating. God promises that Abraham will be the father of a great nation, as numerous as the stars in the sky or the sand on the shore. 

What we may see happening in this story of Abraham is that each stage of Israel's journey is like a new beginning, a reminder that Israel’s story is bound to, and perhaps fulfilling the purposes of the original creation story. And we also see that faith for Abraham is a tremendous risk, separation from his clan, following an unknown God, and yet Abraham moves in a direction of peril and possibility. Abraham’s yes to God’s call brings forth something entirely new in creation. That faith is risky business.

Remember a time when you moved in a direction of peril and possibility, when you leaned into risky faith, and you received a new name, Brave, Courageous.

Mercy is the cost. Jesus is walking along. Not at the seashore this time, where he called the fishers as followers, but at the city gate. And his only words to the tax collector were “follow me.” Not very different from Abraham’s story really, what does Matthew, the tax collector, really know about this itinerant Jew? And, why does Jesus call Matthew? Matthew is a collaborator with the Empire to oppress his neighbors, maybe even caught up in something too big for himself. Jesus calls him out of all of that to a new way of being, a life of discipleship, and Matthew seems willing to pay the price, the cost of discipleship is high, the cost of mercy may be one’s life.

The Pharisees ask, “Why does your teacher, and now Matthew is one of them, eat with tax collectors and sinners? Tax collectors participate in oppression, sinners are outside the circle of power. And Jesus says, “Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.” Jesus is merciful, to follow Jesus means mercy. Sin and mercy are not in opposition. I think in our culture, sacrifice, or self-sacrifice has come to be defined by a kind of righteous martyrdom. But that is not what Jesus is or asks for. Mercy is what the sinner, you and me, offer to one another, oneself, and our neighbor. Mercy is the cost of following Jesus, mercy is the cost of love. Mercy is knowing that every one of us is created in God’s image, and offering to the other that reflection, that knowledge, that reality, of God’s love and grace. Mercy costs our self-righteous smugness, mercy costs our judgement. For some, the cost of mercy is too high, for followers of Jesus, the cost of mercy is priceless.

Blessing is the work. This woman had been suffering from bleeding for twelve years. That would have done all of us in. She’d heard about Jesus, but she knew there were a multitude of reasons  why it would be a bad idea to go into the marketplace and hope against hope that if she could just touch his cloak, she would be healed. She was unclean, not just for a week, not even just after having a baby, but for twelve years. No one would have her in their presence, she should not be near anyone, she should accept her fate and stay isolated and alone, apart from her community. But there she was, in Jesus’ circle of people, and she reached out. She grabs her blessing and then Jesus publicly affirms what she’s done and who she is. Everyone around her also hears that blessing. Everyone in this story is blessed by the presence of Jesus. 

I have been involved in these last few months in so many conversations about how we followers of Jesus make any difference at all in our communities, in our kinship circles, and in our larger civic world. We make a difference by living boldly and courageously. We know that faith is risky business, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Ruth, Naomi, Mary, Elizabeth all show us that faith is risky business, and that God can be trusted. Let us risk boldly for God’s love in our world. 

All of us walk this very messy path of faith, all of us fall on the floor and meet Jesus in the person who helps us up. No matter who we are, or what we have. In the rising up, we are made a new creation, in God’s image, and that alone gives us everything we need to risk mercy for God’s sake, for your sake, for the kindom’s sake. 

Remember God’s blessing, carry God’s blessing with you. Be God’s blessing in your conversations with family, with friends, with those you love and with those you may someday learn to love. That is your work. 

Amen. 

Blessing

May God give you grace not to sell yourself short; grace to risk something big for something good; and grace to remember the world is now too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love. And the blessing of God Almighty, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, be upon you and remain with you for ever. Amen.

 

Sixth Sunday of Easter Yr A May 10 2026 St. Marth and Mary, Eagan MN

Sixth Sunday of Easter Yr A May 10 2026 St. Marth and Mary, Eagan MN
Acts 17:22-31, 1 Peter 3:13-22, John 14:15-21, Psalm 66:7-18

My husband Rick and I were married 36 years when he died. We met through YMCA camp, I was the waterfront director and he was a camp counselor. But the point of this story is baseball. When Rick and I met and were dating, we went to the Metrodome for Twins baseball. Now, in those days, I rolled my eyes at baseball, boring! And actually fell asleep during baseball games. But I went, because he seemed to enjoy it and I loved him so I went. We got married, and had kids, and brought our kids to the Metrodome for Twins baseball. As long as the kids could walk under the turnstile, they were free. We packed our own hotdogs in our picnic basket, and got to the dome early so we could sit way down in front, or on the third base line to watch batting practice. Before the game began, we'd move up into the nosebleed section into our own seats. I actually grew to love baseball, our kids love Twins baseball. It's crazy what we'll do for love. 

In the fifteenth chapter of John, following what we read today is, "This is my commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you." And what we have from John this week is a follow up to what we heard last week. John reminds us, you know how to do this, love is hard, and you can do hard things. John reminds us that love is about a relationship, love God, love yourself, love others. And in John, Jesus reminds us that we will not be left alone, love is a hard thing after all, and so Jesus does not leave us alone, Jesus leaves us with the Advocate. Advocate is one way to translate the Greek word, Paraclete. Paraclete can function relationally by designating one who brings help, consolation, comfort, and encouragement. All of these meanings however, derive from the most basic meaning of the word to “come alongside another.” 

There was a time in our history when a person who was standing for trial in a courtroom literally stood in the box the entire time. A Paraclete is the one who stands with, the one who holds up, and the Paraclete was the one to come alongside to help the person stand throughout the trial, and if needed, to stand in for that person. This is the image that John evokes in this passage, this is the truth of what Jesus does in this passage. Jesus shows us what God's love for God's people looks like, we are not left alone, we are not left to our own devices. 

One thing that is hard about love, among many things, is that our society has led us to believe that love is about a feeling. Love is the same as romance, or passion, or sex. Love comes and goes. You can fall into and out of love. But that is not the love that God commands, that is not the love that this story shows us. A real love story is a story that shows a relationship that endures, a relationship in which the lovers treat each other well, respectfully, compassionately, lovingly, even when they don't feel like it, even when they don't want to. There are some wonderful love stories out there. How about  a real love story in which a father pushes his son's wheel chair for the whole race, so that the son will know what it is like to run. Or another love story when one friend, who is blind, puts his friend who has no legs, on his back and they go about living life together. A real love story is when a couple watches baseball together, because they've grown to love baseball together. 

Love is holding another person up, when all we want to do is fall down. Love is holding another person up when it seems impossible to stand another moment. Love is standing there for another person, speaking on behalf of the other, being the voice for the voiceless, love is showing up. And it is hard, so Jesus leaves this Spirit, this Advocate, this Paraclete, with us, so that we are not left alone. 

Love is hard, and you can do hard things. Have you ever known that Spirit, that Advocate, that Paraclete coming alongside of you? This Spirit is sometimes hard to identify. But it lives somewhere in the wind and the flame of compassion, of grace, courage, faith, peace, laughter, music, strength, and joy.  

Love is hard, and you can do hard things. When is a time when you have wanted to just lie down and not get up again, but someone came by your side and held you up? When have you been broken and spent, and someone came by your side and gave you words of encouragement? When have you been ready to throw in the towel, when have you been ready to call it quits, and someone came by your side and said, that's why a baseball game is nine innings, you’ve got plenty more chances. When have you stood by the side of one you love, when doing so may have seemed doomed. 

An understanding of Advocate is "to speak on behalf of another." In John, this is a manifestation of the third person of the trinity that is different from the more familiar Spirit, wind or fire. The Advocate will stick up for you, and you will stick up for others. You will bear witness, you speak on behalf of love, you will stand by the side of the other or the beloved, you will hold one another up, because you can do hard things, because God loves you, and because Love wins even when the Twins don't.

Another story about Advocate - or Holy Spirit. I’ve played the flute now for a long time. I was very fortunate, my parents encouraged me, I was in band and able to take private music lessons. Once in high school, there was an expectation that all of the band students would prepare a piece of music and participate in a music competition. Again, I was fortunate in that the person from whom I had private flute lessons was a piano player as well, and therefore, an accompanist. Since then, I’ve had some opportunities to play and be accompanied by some pretty wonderful pianists. An accompanist is a partner in the music. The job of the accompanist is to get the best out of the soloist; to help the soloist to do their very best. When the soloist is nervous, like a high school flute player would be, the accompanist encourages her playing, and even occasionally covers mistakes. There is a sense of joy in making music by oneself, but I think my greatest musical joy is in making music with others. 

There is a new creation, a spirit if you will, that lives in the particular time and place that music is made. The picture of the accompanist for me is one of partner, and even co-creator, without whom music is less. Music can be played or sung, and with the accompanist, it is more beautiful, and more fun. It is this image I encourage you to hold on to as we continue to read through John in the next few weeks as we hear more about this Advocate, the Holy Spirit, the Accompanist, who teaches us to love in hard ways, and in joyful ways.

Alleluia, Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed, Alleluia.

A Prayer for Mother’s Day…for all of us.

 For women being celebrated by their children and grandchildren today…
       may your joy be complete.

For women separated from their children today, due to physical or emotional distance -and for those with difficult relationships with their mothers…
       may your joy be in what was and what yet may be.

For women whose child – born or unborn – has died – and for those whose Mother has died…
       may joy be present in the midst of your grief.

For women who lost a child in abortion…
       may the joy of peace be yours.

For women who have given a child in adoption…
       may you be bathed in the overflow of joy you provided to another.

For women who are expecting or dreaming of a child someday – and for women who are struggling to conceive or adopt…
       may your hope lead to joy.

For women who are not called to have children of their own…
       may you find joy in community.

For women who raise or love the children of other women as their own – and for women who adopt or foster children…
       may your love bring you joy.

For women one and all…
       may you find joy in the truth that you are wonderfully made.

For the miracle of life, we give thanks to the Lord. Amen.

Blessing

May God give you grace not to sell yourself short; 

grace to risk something big for something good; 

and grace to remember the world is now too dangerous 

for anything but truth and too small for anything but love.

And the blessing of God Almighty, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, be upon you and remain with you for ever. 

Amen! Alleluia!

 

 

 

Easter Vigil - Grace Episcopal Church, April 4, 2026

Easter Vigil - Grace Episcopal Church, April 4, 2026

This is the night, when you brought our forebears, the children of Israel, out of bondage in Egypt, and led them through the Red Sea on dry land. This is the night, when all who believe in Christ are delivered from the gloom of sin, and are restored to grace and holiness of life. This is the night, when Christ broke the bonds of death and hell, and rose victorious from the grave, we heard Huldah sing all of this. 

We’ve just rehearsed the stories of our faith, the stories of God’s activity in the life of God’s people, the story of reconciliation, restoration, resurrection, in the midst of wandering, whining, and wailing. We’ve seen bones that join together and wind and spirit to give them new life. We’ve had our hands in water that cleanses, water that hydrates, water that is poured over us.

On this night, death does not have the final word. This week we have kept vigil, we have listened to litanies and prayers, we have sat in the silence and wept, we have been to the cross with Jesus, we have recognized our complicity in the whole mess, we have held one another’s hand, we have wondered whether we are worth all this pain and trouble, we have told the stories of who we are and whose we are, and we, like Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women who go to the tomb to see Jesus, are afraid, afraid that it may not be true, given all that we’ve seen and experienced in the recent months.

But we, here in this room, know the ending of the story. And we know at the two pivotal times of the church year, Incarnation and Resurrection, the angel says, “Do not be afraid.” And tonight we hear, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here but has risen” Indeed this is good news, received with fear and great joy. What are we to do with this Good News, that death does not have the final word? Can we believe it? The women go away unsure. And Peter, wonderful Peter, ran home amazed at what happened. God has raised Jesus to new life, Love prevails, rising again out of the grave. 

On this night, we are surprised by joy, we are surprised by hope, Love prevails. God acts decisively on behalf of all creation, on behalf of the Peters, who deny Jesus, and the Judas’, who betray Jesus, the Roman soldiers and the apathetic bystanders, the Mary’s and the Martha’s, you and me. 

We rehearse this pattern year after year, day after day, not to impose it onto reality, but rather to remind ourselves and each other that this pattern is at the very heart of reality: that love does prevail, that no matter how grim the night becomes, joy will come in the morning. Every story we tell points us to God who loves creation so very much, that God is willing to take extreme measures to show us that Love prevails, that death does not triumph.

We see Jesus. Jesus who was born into this world, our world, born in a barn, to parents of questionable status. Jesus, who taught in the temple when he was twelve. Jesus who ate with tax collectors and sinners, who hung around with women and children. Jesus who fed the hungry, five thousand at a time. Jesus, who spoke with the woman at the well, who healed the blind man, who raised his friend Lazarus from the dead. Jesus, who went to the margins, Jesus, who literally gave new life where there was no life at all. 

Incarnation, the embodiment of God’s love, shows us that God stoops into our time, our lives,and walks this road with us. Jesus’ life, and love, pain and sorrow, death and resurrection, show us that it is not God’s purpose to remove the hardness from this life, or to remove brokenness from the world, but to show us a new way to live. Resurrection shows us that God actively works in human history because God never gives up on the creation God loves so very much.

This Easter story, this story that Love prevails, that death does not triumph, matters. 

Sometimes we get impatient - 

sometimes we want to give up - 

sometimes the darkness seems so thick - 

sometimes joy seems so far away. 

But we continue to tell these stories, to live these stories, in order to strengthen our skills as we walk through the pattern in our own lives; joy, struggle, suffering, resurrection. We fill up with courage, and hope, so that we may be the carriers of joy into the world. 

Jesus calls disciples, the ones who followed while he walked this journey on earth, and you and me, Jesus’ disciples today, to teach us who we are, to teach us about being citizens of the new kingdom. On Tuesday, your clergy took time out of their Holy Week, to gather and renew our ordination vows. Our bishop spoke to us about how, in an age marked by anger, scorn, and division, joy is an act of revolution. The purpose of the church is to cultivate an alternative economy that trades in joy and love. While happiness, or feeling good, depends on our circumstances, joy grows from keeping our eyes fixed on the promises of God, and soaking ourselves daily in God’s goodness. 

And on this most holy night, we witnessed Nicole’s baptism, and renewed our own baptismal promises 

to continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, 

in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers, 

to persevere in resisting evil, 

to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ, 

to seek and serve Christ in all persons, 

loving your neighbor as yourself, 

to strive for justice and peace among all people, 

and respect the dignity of every human being. 

We are Easter people. We live with hope and with joy in the reality that death does not have the final word, but that Love prevails. Alleluia, alleluia. 

 

The Church of St. Paul in the Desert, Palm Springs CA, Candlemas (transferred) Feb4 2023

Darkness can not drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate can not drive out hate; only love can do that. Martin Luther King Jr

By now you have seen images and heard words coming not only from Minneapolis, but Maine and Ohio, and you have seen images of resistance from all over the county. It may look mighty dark right now, it may feel like Good Friday, but Sunday is coming. That’s what we’ve taken to reminding ourselves as we embrace hope. 

The reality is that we in Minnesota are living under occupation. We have witnessed Immigration and Customs Enforcement removing people from homes, work, and school based on door-knocking in random neighborhoods and swarming schools, health care facilities, Mexican restaurants, child care centers or gas station parking lots all in hopes of finding someone, anyone, to detain. And murdering protectors and kidnapping observers in the midst of it. We are witnessing a spectacle of cruelty and brutality. Again, this is our reality. 

As people of faith, we must step into the breach with faith, love, and most of all hope, to do what the gospel compels us to do - welcome the stranger, feed the hungry, protect those who are at risk. I don’t have to convince any of you of that. This past Sunday’s Old Testament reading was from Micah, a passage with which you are so very familiar. “What the Lord really needs of us is to do justice, and to love kindness and mercy, and to walk humbly with our God.” In the midst of the chaos I am observing, I have also witnessed incredible acts of justice, kindness and mercy, walking humbly with God.

Friday morning a week ago my clergy colleague Susan, and I, with a wonderful handful of people from Grace Episcopal Church, were at the airport to raise our voices demanding that Delta and Signature stop being complicit in removing people from our state to detention centers God knows where. That action was about disrupting the flow of money and commerce. We cheered, and we prayed, and sang as 100 of our colleagues were bused off to jail after kneeling in the cold for at least an hour. 

Then, with at least 50,000 of our closest friends, in -20 cold, we gathered downtown Minneapolis, we watched out for each other, we shared hand and foot warmers, we sang, and were kind to one another as we became Minnesota fierce. My colleague Susan, and her partner Brian, went to US Bank downtown, one of the leading financial institutions in Minnesota, to be part of a sit-in, to ask that they lead the way in standing up to injustice.

This past Friday morning we gathered at the BIshop Whipple Federal Building, where those who are kidnapped off the streets are first taken. We again stood in the cold and spoke out for those who have been taken because they were witnessing - taking video, blowing their whistles. And just that morning two journalists were detained. People stand outside the Whipple building so that when they let someone go, there is someone waiting and prepared with warm clothes and a ride home. Last Saturday I delivered food to families who no longer leave their homes to go to work, or to go to the grocery store or the gas station for fear of being grabbed by ICE. That food ministry has over the last two weeks has tripled the number of people that still come to the church and to whom groceries are delivered. You can help with that, Rev. Jessie has that information for you

A statistic I discovered this week, and a reflection for you to consider.  90% of the community activation in Minneapolis is neighbor care.  Not protest. Not legal observation. But community response work: feeding the hungry, protecting schools, getting medicines to people who need them. Singing in the neighborhood so people stuck indoors, fearful of authorities, will know they are not alone. When what is happening in Minneapolis, and soon in Maine, in Ohio, and all over is called protest, you flatten the level and diversity of the response. You play into the framing of a violent regime.  

We are resisting, and there is something else happening here that’s not just resistance. It's a paradigm shift.  Minnesota has been abandoned by the federal government, so the people have taken over, and it is incredible. 

We are the hands and feet of Jesus in the way of embodied, fierce, resilient, defiant, love. We show up with compassion and resolve. The grief is palpable. And what do we see? People, neighbors, clergy, gathering together in neighborhoods and breweries and being community, increasing the light, rising up, with hope. There are candlelight vigils in every neighborhood. This occupation is nowhere near over, I just read that eight more observers were arrested at gunpoint yesterday morning, but we will continue to love fiercely, and walk the way of Jesus, together. 

Five year old Liam Ramos and his father were finally released. There is reason to hope, light in the darkness is dispelled in and through neighbors and community. We show up for each other, Jesus shows up in flesh and blood, we show up for our neighbors, God in our midst, the one who stoops to pick us up off the ground. This is where hope lives. 

Friends, we follow Jesus because we are convinced of God’s love for us, God’s love for all of creation. We follow Jesus because we are convinced that Love wins. We follow Jesus because we are convinced that embodied, resilient, defiant love is what God offers, and we in turn offer to our neighbors. 

We come here, to this place and we offer our own brokenness to be forgiven and healed, we are filled with bread and wine that are Jesus’ body and blood. In the mystery that is God’s love for us, we recognize blessing, we receive mercy, and we enact justice. And together we are emboldened, we can be brave and courageous as we witness to God’s amazing love for all God’s people. 

And therein is hope. We build hope in ourselves and in our community as we intentionally walk with Jesus. We build hope as we do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God. We build hope as we recognize the blessedness that is all around us. Everytime you carry God’s light and love you conspire with God to hope. Everytime you carry this light out into your community you participate in God’s beloved community.

 

4 Epiphany Yr A February 1 2026 St. Martha and Mary Episcopal Church Eagan MN

4 Epiphany Yr A February 1 2026 St. Martha and Mary Episcopal Church Eagan MN
Micah 6:1-8, 1 Corinthians 1:18-31, Matthew 5:1-12, Psalm 15

I am convinced the prophetic voices we hear in today’s readings can guide our walk with Jesus, and can guide us in the work of resistance in which we find ourselves as Minnesotans today. We must listen to them. In Matthew’s gospel is Jesus’ sermon on the mount. This is the opening proclamation of Jesus’ ministry to follow, and in it Jesus shows us what the kingdom of God looks like. And in Micah we hear words that many of us are most familiar with. The voice of the Lord calls us to remember, we are to remember what has happened and to remember the saving acts of the Lord. And how shall we come before the Lord? Shall we bring burnt-offerings, rivers of oil, our first-born child? And then there it is, what the Lord really needs of us is to do justice, and to love kindness and mercy, and to walk humbly with our God. 

Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God. This is what God’s kingdom looks like, and this is also what it means to follow Jesus. Humbly isn’t quite an accurate translation, it should be more like walk intentionally, walk deliberately, with your God. Do justice, love kindness, and walk intentionally with God.

In Matthew we learn how to recognize blessing. We’ve heard these beatitudes so many times, haven’t we? You know, for a long time I taught children using Godly Play story telling. Godly Play is a way to tell the sacred bible stories. So, I’d tell this story about Jesus teaching his friends when the children were in first grade, and then they’d hear it again in second grade, and by third grade they’d say, we’ve heard that one before! And I’d respond with, of course you have, but what’s different about it this time? Because you see, each time we hear these stories, we are in a different place and a different time, so we hear something different from them. Friends, we are in a different place and a different time, we must hear these beatitudes differently.

Jesus is speaking directly to his disciples with this teaching. You and I are really just eavesdropping. Jesus is teaching his disciples about how to recognize blessing. This isn’t about who is blessed, it is about how to recognize who and what God has already blessed. God has already blessed the poor in spirit, and theirs is the kingdom of heaven. God has already blessed those who mourn, and they will be comforted. God has already blessed the meek, and they will inherit the earth. God has already blessed those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, and they will be filled. God has already blessed the merciful, and they will receive mercy. God has already blessed the pure in heart, and they will see God. God has already blessed the peacemakers, and they will be called children of God. God has already blessed those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, and theirs is the kingdom of heaven. And God has already blessed those who are reviled and persecuted.

You see, our job, as followers of Jesus is to get with the program, God is already doing great things, our job is to see that and join forces, to be a co-conspirator with God to be a blessing. And one of the things that makes it so hard is that God has already blessed those whom some would not think are blessed. Sometimes, when people talk about someone who is blessed that might be someone who is wealthy or powerful or famous or successful or beautiful or enviable. Blessing, at least according to the standards of this world, is most often of the material kind. Blessing is missing the close call, or getting something someone else doesn’t get. But that’s not what is revealed in Matthew’s story about Jesus teaching the disciples. God blesses in ways that the world rejects. 

Following Jesus is about doing justice, loving kindness, and walking intentionally with God. Following Jesus is to recognize blessing when it is staring us in the face. I think recognizing blessedness is about walking with God. I think recognizing blessedness has something to do with living in a community, a church of hospitality, a place where people of all stripes can come and find justice, and kindness and mercy. It is about standing with our neighbors when they are hungry and in need. 

I was one of the clergy who stood in the freezing cold a week ago, standing up for justice, kindness, and mercy. Now, some of you may not agree with me that what is happening in our city, in our state, and in our country is outright intimidation and occupation. You may make the argument that the federal government is justified in arresting those who have broken the law. And as far as adhering to the law of this land I would agree with you. However, that is not what we are witnessing in our cities and on our streets. We are witnessing the round up of people who don’t look like us or talk like us, and those who are standing up for their neighbors. If you listen to what these scriptures say, if you listen to what Jesus says, you can no longer abide this spectacle of cruelty and brutality.

Friends, we follow Jesus because we are convinced of God’s love for us, God’s love for all of creation. We follow Jesus because we are convinced that Love wins. We follow Jesus because we are convinced that embodied, resilient, defiant love is what God offers, and we in turn offer to our neighbors. 

We come here, to this place and we offer our own brokenness to be forgiven and healed, we are filled with bread and wine that are Jesus’ body and blood. In the mystery that is God’s love for us, we recognize blessing, we receive mercy, and we enact justice. And together we are emboldened, we can be brave and courageous as we witness to God’s amazing love for all God’s people. 

And therein is hope. We build hope in ourselves and in our community as we intentionally walk with Jesus. We build hope as we do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God. We build hope as we recognize the blessedness that is all around us. Everytime you stand up for your neighbor by witnessing to the injustice. Everytime you stand up for your neighbor by donating money and food and clothing to all the places you do. Everytime you stand up for your neighbor by delivering groceries to those who cannot get out of their homes. Everytime you bring God’s light and love you conspire with God to hope. 

You are loved, go out into the world to do the work you are called to do, to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God. Amen. 

Blessing

May God give you grace never to sell yourself short; grace to risk something big for something good; and grace to remember the world is now too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love. And may the blessing of God, Creator, Christ, and Holy Spirit be upon you now and remain with you forever, Amen

Second Sunday of Christmas Jan 4 2026 St. Martha and Mary Eagan

Second Sunday of Christmas Jan 4 2026 St. Martha and Mary Eagan
Isaiah 60:1-6, Ephesians 3:1-12, Matthew 2:1-12, Psalm 72:1-7,10-14

A New Year dawns, and with it hope and promise, light and love. Even in the midst of this present darkness, more light has already begun to shine, I can see it and I can feel it. And yet life continues to feel hard, sometimes even scary. We live in a world now in which we expect violence, no longer is cruelty a thing to be vanquished, its spectacle is forever before us. The gospel story we have today took place in a time not unlike our own, as it opens we are placed in the middle of King Herod’s Judea. 

This gospel story, unique to Matthew, is a story with peculiar characters, with wisdom from outside of the mainstream, gentiles, powerful, politically savvy people. And King Herod who looms large as a despot, for whom power, instead of love, wins, and who is afraid of this baby, a threat to his empire. God’s presence in Jesus is going to upend the powers that be, and thwart Herod’s plans. And yet we are reminded of God’s activity – God’s intervention; these wise ones from the east were warned in a dream to go home by another way. 

How does this story, the story of God in the flesh, the manifestation of Christ in the world, change things, change us? And how do we make Christ known in the world? You see, there is so much hope, so much promise, so much light, so much love. God bursts into our world, stoops into our lives, and continues to break into our world, and walk with us in the flesh. What does that mean?

The story we have before us today, this story of the wise ones from the east who follow the Light to the child born in a barn, helps us to see the cosmic importance of this birth. This birth happened in a particular place at a particular time in the context of a particular tribe, but the arrival of these wise ones from the east shows us that it wasn't just for a particular people at a particular time in a particular tribe. Matthew's intent in telling this story in this way with these characters is to show us that this birth changes the world, this birth confronts empire, the wise ones from the east know that.

God does whatever it takes to reach out to and embrace all people. God announces the birth of the Messiah to shepherds through angels on Christmas, to Magi via a star on Epiphany, and to the political and religious authorities of God’s own people through visitors from the East. From a manger, where a child lies wrapped in bands of cloth, God’s reach, God’s embrace in Jesus, gets bigger and bigger and bigger. Jesus eats with outcasts and sinners. Jesus touches people who are sick and people who live with pain and suffering. Jesus even calls the dead back to life. Ultimately, Jesus draws all people to himself as he is lifted up on the cross. In Jesus, no one is beyond God’s embrace.

God’s radical grace is wondrously frightening. The Light that shines in the darkness is wondrously frightening. That is also what this story is about. God comes to us in wondrously surprising ways. Ways we do not expect. Ways which we would never choose for ourselves. We are changed, we are transformed, the world is turned, and we must go home by another way, a different way, the way of Love. 

Or not, the alternative, of course, is to join Herod in not seeing God’s ever-expanding embrace, or feel threatened by it, and instead giving way to just plain fear: “When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him”. Herod jealously reached out himself, far enough to violently protect his place and preserve his power.

But I would suggest not being like Herod, and instead of living in fear of what is next, what is new, what could happen, we live in God's embrace, we live in God's light, we live in confidence that Love prevails. Instead of living in fear of what the future may bring to us, we live in God's abundant and amazing grace. Instead of holding fast to that which someday we will lose, we get on board with God's mission in the world of healing and reconciliation.

Taking the way of the wise ones from the east, going home by another way, going home by Jesus' way, surely provides a life of adventure, of risk, of surprise. Jesus leads us in a radical route. It takes us through green pastures, and more dangerous waters, it is a route that is filled with wolves and sheep. This is a route that calls us through transformation to wholeness; it is a route on which the adventure is not about you, but about whom we are together, the people on the adventure with us, and it is about how we are related to God. On this route home we are called to be Light bearers. We are called to be Love bearers. We are called to bring God’s Love to dark corners, to mountaintops, to raging waters.

My most recent viewing obsession is Stranger Things. I got on the roller coaster late in the ride, and the drop to the finish is thrilling. A major motif in Stranger Things is darkness and light. But, as it is with the best of storytelling, sometimes it takes some work to find the cracks of light that will bring healing and hope. I think Stranger Things is a great story, not only because of the landscape of dark and light, there’s so much more to be said about community and communion, friendship and love, looking beyond oneself and into oneself to find belovedness, and - much of that must wait for another day. Today’s story, the story in Matthew’s gospel, shows us the light breaking through, it calls us to follow that light, to find the path that brings us home. 

We are called to bring God’s Love to a dark and broken world, to a culture that is pulled apart by greed and fear. We are called to bring God’s Love to a fearful world. 

You see, God’s Love, God’s Power, is the most powerful integrating force in creation. God’s Love moves us from brokenness, from fragmentation, to wholeness, to healing and it is the only way.

How do you bring God’s Love and God’s Light into the world, how do you bring God’s wholeness into your work or your school? It is our call to bring God’s transforming love to those who have not yet seen or felt or known that love. It is our call to bear the Love that wins into the world. What glory will you manifest?

And, it is God's dream that we do this together. After all, it was three wise ones, not just one, who came to see Jesus. We don't go this life on our own, we journey together, we go home by another way, together. 

Amen

Epiphany blessing

May Almighty God, who led the Wise Ones from the east by the shining of a star to find the Christ, the Light from Light, lead you also, in your pilgrimage, to find the light and love. And the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, be upon you and remain with you for ever. Amen.

First Sunday after Christmas Dec 29 2024 Grace Episcopal Church, Mpls

First Sunday after Christmas Dec 29 2024 Grace Episcopal Church, Mpls

Isaiah 61:10-62:3, Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7, John 1:1-18, Psalm 147 or 147:13-21

My most recent viewing obsession is Stranger Things. I got on the roller coaster late in the ride, but I’m all caught up, and the drop to the finish is thrilling. A major motif in Stranger Things is darkness and light. But, as it is with the best of storytelling, sometimes it takes some work to find the cracks of light that will bring healing and hope. I think Stranger Things is a great story, not only because of the landscape of dark and light, there’s so much more to be said about community and communion, friendship and love, looking beyond oneself and into oneself to find belovedness, and - much of that must wait for another day. Today’s story, the story in John’s gospel, is also filled with darkness and light, inviting us to enter into the revelation, the epiphany, the inbreaking of God to our world - in new and wonderful ways. 

Let's begin at the beginning, where John begins. John’s beginning is not like Matthew’s beginning, the genealogy tracing Joseph back to King David - and then an announcement from an angel, the next thing we know is that the baby is born. And John’s beginning is not like Luke’s beginning, the birth announced by an angel, recognized by Elizabeth, consented to by Mary. And Mark, Mark doesn’t even tell that part of the story. 

John begins at the beginning; in the beginning was the Word. This gospel writer very intentionally places us at the beginning, the first words of the first book of the Holy Scripture that John had on his heart, in the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth. And John very intentionally introduces us to one of the themes that for him shapes all of faith, the light that is in the world. John situates Jesus in a truly cosmic landscape. 

John’s beginning prologue parallels very intentionally the first chapter of Genesis - When God began to create the heavens and the earth, the earth was complete chaos, and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. And God saw that the light was good, and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day. 

The gospel writer begins, In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The Word was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through God, and without God not one thing came into being. What has come into being was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it. 

I think it is really important that we understand that these stories we read from sacred scripture are not individual snippets of words, but have everything to do with the stories of our ancestors. These words inform our lives today, and this word is God’s Word. God, who wants to be known to us, and be in relationship with us. 

These are words of Incarnation, Emmanuel, God in the flesh, birthed out of the waters of creation, the waters of baptism, the waters of new life. Bathed in the light that dispels the darkness. For John, there is hope that the smallest source of light might create the possibility of belief. 

God speaks the Word into this world, Jesus dives into our lives for light, for love, for relationship, for connection. John calls us to turn around and face the Light, to fall on our knees and be forgiven. And today John calls us to be partners with him in showing the way to the Light. And for John, the darkness represents a lack of relationship and connection. 

We are yet in the season of incarnation, God in the flesh meeting us in the flesh. God came to be with us in the flesh not to relieve us of the mess and the muck of this life, but in the flesh God stands by our side, takes our hand, sometimes even carries us, and loves us. And that kind of love changes us, we can't help but be changed. God in the flesh reminds us in our flesh that we don't need to be perfect because we are perfectly loved. We don't need to consume and acquire to possess worth; we are enough just the way we are created. God in the flesh reminds us in our flesh that we don't need to gain attention to earn God's love, God has already loved us into ourselves. 

Incarnation is a mystery, and yet it is not so hard. Incarnation, God in the flesh, is about love in a very real and intimate sense, it is about God’s promise and commitment to you and to me to walk this journey with us, and it is about our commitment to love. Christmas is not about the presents; it is about God’s presence with us, and your presence with those whose path you cross.

And that’s where the rubber meets the road, isn’t it? Incarnation is about showing up, and showing forth the light that shines through all darkness. God in the flesh meets us in our flesh, and we must respond to God in the flesh, God’s grace upon grace, with love for our neighbor, love for those we like and for those we cannot abide, love for our immigrant neighbors, and love for the idiots who seem to not understand this basic tenant of God’s beloved people. We cannot disregard the connection we have to God and one another, and to those who are God’s beloveds - all of us. We live in the promise God made at creation and continues to show forth in every moment, when we look for the light through the darkness. 

Love is born into human flesh. God stoops into our lives through the most fragile of body’s, in the most humble surroundings. And, at the very same time, although the place of humans is certainly small; we find ourselves dwarfed by both the creation and the Creator. Yet there’s more to the story. The Creator of the galaxies, eternal and unbegotten, emptied themself and was born as an infant. At the crossroads of time and space, God chose to become fully human, one of us. The light shines throughout the universe, and through the humblest of lives. 

As we celebrate these holy days, may we be reminded that God is above us, below us, surrounding us, and within us. God is alive wherever love is born, wherever justice is pursued, wherever peace is nurtured. The Christ child calls us to see God revealed in those on the argin and in the ordinary, and in one another. Thanks be to God.

Amen.