Sunday, May 31, 2020

Feast of Pentecost Yr A May 31 2020 (Sunday after the murder of George Floyd, riots in Minneapolis)


Feast of Pentecost Yr A May 31 2020 (Sunday after the murder of George Floyd, riots in Minneapolis)
Acts 2:1-21, 1 Corinthians 12:3b-13, John 20:19-23, Psalm 104:25-35, 37

What does one say on the Feast of Pentecost, a joyous celebration? This day when we celebrate Spirit, like the rush of mighty wind and tongues of fire. The Holy Spirit, the gift of God’s continuing presence with God’s beloveds, you and me and every one of us, regardless of the color of our skin, the lilt of our voice, the health of our bank accounts. What does one say about Holy Spirit, when my home, Minneapolis Minnesota, is under siege? (and my son is on the front line)

What can be said? Kyrie Eleison, O Lord have mercy.

Holy Spirt, descend upon us, meet the fire of human pain and want and need,
with your fire of justice. Kyrie Eleison, O Lord have mercy.

Holy Spirit, descend upon us, meet the fire of outrage at not being heard, not being seen, not being believed, with your fire of compassion. Kyrie Eleison, O Lord have mercy.

Holy Spirit, descend upon us, meet the fire of self-righteous privilege,
with your fire of refinement. Kyrie Eleison, O Lord have mercy.

Holy Spirit, descend upon us, meet the fire of destruction and looting,
with your fire of merciful judgement. Kyrie Eleison, O Lord have mercy.

Holy Spirit, descend upon us, meet the fire of hate,
with your fire of love. Kyrie Eleison, O Lord have mercy.

Holy Spirit, descend upon us, ignite the fire that was placed in us at our baptism, the fire to resist evil in all its insidious and racist forms, the fire to proclaim by word and example your Good News; the Good news that not one of God’s creations is outside of God’s love, the good news that Jesus is all in all. The fire that seeks and serves Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor, all our neighbors, and especially those who have been systematically excluded from a path of progress, as ourselves. The fire that strives for justice and peace among all people, the fire that respects the dignity of every human being. Kyrie Eleison.

How does one speak of the Holy Spirit? Very carefully. Like the murmuring of a dove’s song, like the rushing fire of refinement, a burning bush that is not consumed. If we took the Holy Spirit seriously, we’d all be on fire. So, we will stop speaking of the Holy Spirit, and instead, we will let the Holy Spirit have its way with us.

The kingdom of God imagines a very different future from the reality in which we find ourselves. A world in which each person can walk down the street and be safe, a world in which each person can walk into the grocery store and not be stalked. We must be on fire with the proclamation that systems must be just. We must be a part of the change. Holy Spirit set us on fire for justice, peace, and love.

Kyrie Eleison.

Saturday, May 23, 2020

Seventh Sunday of Easter Yr A May 24 2020


Seventh Sunday of Easter Yr A May 24 2020
Acts 1:6-14, 1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11, John 17:1-11, Psalm 68:1-10, 33-36

Us Midwesterners, joke a little about our long goodbyes. You know how it goes, you’ve had a houseful of guests, and everyone has had a great time visiting. It’s getting late and people have to work in the morning. It’s time to say your “goodbyes”. Everyone gets up, and starts heading toward the door, starting a new conversation or continuing one from an hour ago. You escort your guests to the door, and they get their coats and boots on – all the while you’re still maintaining a conversation with them. Usually, about how much you like their choice of winter footwear, or the color of their parka, scarf, or mittens. Your guests are dressed to leave, but someone thought of one more thing to say and the conversation continues. This goes on and on and on and on and on and on. Pretty soon, an hour has passed and your guests are still standing at the door in their coats, their vehicle is still running in your driveway, and the conversation continues. Your guests make it out the door. Now you stand on the front steps and tell them to “drive safe”. This becomes another conversation about the weather and road conditions. After another 15 minutes or more, your guests back down your driveway, and it’s time for the final wave or flashing of lights. We call this the “final goodbye”. Your guests wave back, flash their lights and you continue to wave until they are out of sight before you head back inside.

It’s been that way for a while now in John’s gospel, we take up today in the middle of Jesus’ “final goodbye”. The fancy word for it is “farewell discourse”, but it’s much the same. In this goodbye Jesus has been telling his friends about many things. How to love each other and their enemies. That relationship looks like abiding and dwelling similar to a vine and branches, or a shepherd and sheep, or washing feet even when you’ve been betrayed and denied. And Jesus tells them about what will happen after he leaves, and that he will not leave them alone or unprotected. In and among all these final words, and the poignancy of love, and betrayal, and denial, is this prayer, Jesus’s prayer.

Here in John, unlike the other gospels, Jesus doesn’t actually say anything about prayer, Jesus doesn’t teach anyone how to pray, in fact, the word prayer never even comes up in John. Jesus prays. Jesus embodies prayer. In this prayer, Jesus prays for himself, and then he prays for his friends, and then Jesus prays for believers yet to be.

When Jesus prays for himself, he prays that God may glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you. In John’s gospel, Jesus is the visible presence of God. I don’t want to pass by that too quickly, because it is so important. Jesus is incarnation, Jesus is God in the flesh, when you look at Jesus you see God. In this part of the long goodbye, Jesus’ followers are just beginning to come to terms with the fact that Jesus will die, as all that is created will die, and they are rightly frightened, what will they do without Jesus? Jesus has just promised that they will not be left alone, that there will be another Advocate, the accompanist, the Spirit, with them when he leaves. In our liturgical year we just observed that event on the 40th day after the resurrection, the Ascension.

So now Jesus prays. And what he prays first is that in his body, in his life, and his death, God is visible. You see, Jesus is the embodiment of prayer, Jesus doesn’t talk about prayer, Jesus is prayer. Jesus is the relationship that makes God’s presence visible. And that’s what is meant by eternal life in this gospel. Chapter 17 verse 3 says, And that is eternal life, that they may know you. The relationship, the knowing, the intimacy. Do you see it, and hear it? John describes this relationship, as shepherd and sheep, vine and branches, washing feet. Eternal life is relationship in the here and now, not later, not after death, Eternal life is life that is now, life in relationship, life that is love. This is what Jesus prays for, that he is capable of showing forth that love, that life, that intimacy.

And Jesus prays that this relationship of love is with those first followers, and that they are protected, again like a shepherd protects the sheep, so that not one should be lost. Jesus asks that those first followers be sanctified in the truth. In this context sanctify means protect. Jesus is asking for protection. And then Jesus prays for those who will believe because of the testimony of the first followers. Those are you and me. Jesus prays for us. That we may be one. That we may also be in that abiding, dwelling, loving relationship.

What is prayer? Jesus doesn’t answer that for us, but Jesus shows us. Prayer is being present wholly and completely in the now. Prayer is responding to whatever life throws at us not by running away from God, but by putting ourselves fully in God’s presence, even when we haven’t a clue what that means, even when that seems really hard to do. Prayer is not filled with words, but with the Word, God present.

In these difficult times, prayer is not pleading for a different life, a different reality, prayer is responding to the presence of God in Jesus. The Jewish scholar, Abraham Heschel has written, Prayer is our humble answer to the inconceivable surprise of living. It is all we can offer in return for the mystery by which we live, amidst the meditation of mountains and the humility of flowers.

Prayer is not what we do but who we are. We are God’s beloveds, in whom and for whom the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the accompanist is present. We are God’s beloveds, giving thanks for the inconceivable surprise of living. We are God’s beloveds; our hearts break when the ones we love or are sick or are no longer with us. We are God’s beloveds, protecting the most vulnerable, caring for the least, the lost, and the lonely. We are God’s beloveds, doing our very best to get up when we’ve fallen in the muck and the mess. We are God’s beloveds, deserving nothing, and yet receiving the love that wins.

We are God’s beloveds, and our lives are God’s prayer. Amen.

Saturday, May 16, 2020

Sixth Sunday of Easter Yr A May 17 2020



Sixth Sunday of Easter Yr A May 17 2020
Acts 17:22-31, 1 Peter 3:13-22, John 14:15-21, Psalm 66:7-18

Today in John’s gospel we hear about Jesus’ promise of another Advocate. This is not the only time Jesus speaks of another Advocate, or Holy Spirit, there are a few more times as the story moves closer to Jesus arriving in Jerusalem, in this farewell part of John’s story. Let’s remember again what is happening here. This scene with the disciples takes place after Judas’ betrayal, and the foreshadowing of Peter’s denial. We just recently heard from Jesus “do not let your hearts be troubled.” This is really hard for the disciples; they know Jesus is leaving them. They really just got used to the incarnation, God in their midst, and now, he’s preparing them for his departure. They must be scared, they are coming to terms, just like we must come to terms, with the truth that anyone who is incarnate, anyone and anything in the flesh, and that is every one of us, will die. That is the truth, it’s the nature of incarnation.

The truth about what it means to be human is not just being born to die as if that’s not hard enough, but all of the other stuff that makes it hard. Just like Judas and Peter, we’re sinners and saints all at the same time. For the disciples here in John, it’s betrayal and denial. I think that is true for us as well. We can add on isolation and alienation. To be human is to trip and fall in the muck and the mess of life. To be human is to believe that we can live our own way, on our own terms, erecting walls and barriers around us, forgetting that it is in relationship, relationship with Jesus, and relationship with one another that our true passions and purposes are called forth. Maybe that’s what we are discovering in this particular time of isolation, we are meant for relationship, we are meant to be connected.

So in the midst of betrayal and denial and fear and disconnection, Jesus promises, “I will not leave you alone.” What is in the flesh must die, but Jesus did not leave the disciples alone, and Jesus does not leave us alone. Can you hear it, can you see it, right here is the promise, “I will give you another Advocate.”

That word, Advocate, is translated in a number of ways, helper, comforter, aider, assistant, intercessor, companion, guide, accompanist. One who accompanies. I want you to hear two important things now. First, Jesus says God will give you another Advocate, do you hear that? Another Advocate, you see, Jesus is the first Advocate, the first accompanist. Second, Jesus does not leave humanity without another accompanist. Holy Spirit, accompanist, the one who abides.

Let’s talk about the word I’ve chosen to describe Advocate, or Holy Spirit. I’ve played 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 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. A great 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 with 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. The music can be played or sung, but 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.

With accompanist in mind, we hear Jesus’ words, about another Advocate. We tend to pass over the word, another. I think it’s important that we don’t because it shows us who Jesus – God in our midst – the incarnate one is. Jesus is the first Advocate, or Accompanist. Jesus is the one who accompanies us, plays the music by our side, Jesus is the one who calls the best out of us, Jesus is the one who is forgiving in our mistakes and even raises us up when we think we cannot go on, Jesus is the one who makes the music of our lives beautiful.

And as Jesus leaves, as all incarnation must, Jesus does not leave us alone. Jesus gives us another Advocate, the Holy Spirit, the Accompanist, to be our partner in making beautiful music, to lift us up when we fall in the muck and the mess, to inspire us when it feels like the music has died, to accompany us on the way of love. The Holy Spirit is our accompanist.

You see, all these words that John uses to describe Jesus, Holy Spirt, point us to the deeply intimate relationship of Jesus and humanity. To abide, to dwell. They describe Jesus’ relationship with us, they describe the Spirit’s relationship with us, deeply intimate, deeply knowing. Jesus is with us, Spirit accompanies us and is present with us, we are never left alone.

This is always good news. Do not fear, do not let your hearts be troubled, in the midst of isolation we are not alone. In the midst of the pain of separation we are not alone. In the midst of betrayal and denial we are not alone. In the midst of despair, we are not alone. When we are apart, one from another, we are not alone. We are accompanied on this way of love. We go forth on this way of love. This is Holy Spirit, raising us up, making us better, making the music with us.

Saturday, May 9, 2020

Fifth Sunday of Easter Yr A May 10 2020


Fifth Sunday of Easter Yr A May 10 2020
Acts 7:55-60, 1 Peter 2:2-10, John 14:1-14, Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16

These have been some hard days. On one level, being healthy and happy at home is a great thing. We’ve gotten some things done, cleaned some drawers, thrown some stuff out, gotten a good start on yard work, finished the Doctoral Thesis -- but, we all know that we are beginning to fray, our edges are beginning to show, our patience is thinning, our hair is getting wild, we want to get back at our lives. And in and among all of that is grief, sadness, and loss. Our hearts break for the doctors, nurses, and front-line workers who put their lives on the line each day. Our hearts break for the service industry workers who have lost so much income but are afraid to go back to work. Our hearts break for missed rites of passage, graduations, 16th birthday parties, getting a driver’s license. Our hearts break for loved ones whose people have died in this time, those who have died from COVID-19, and those who have died from something else, we can’t have funerals that are so very important as a place to put our grief. I have a great nephew to be baptized, we’re actually considering doing it on Zoom.

This is life with all the feels amplified, we cry tears of joy when people say thank you, we cry tears of grief when we see the faces of the nurses, we cry tears of gratitude when we can see the people we love, we cry at all the montages on tv inspiring us to stay connected in all this – well at least I do.

And yet, into this very peculiar time we are living, we hear these words of Jesus, do not let your hearts be troubled. Jesus’ assurance to the disciples is an assurance to us as well. John reports this exchange in the midst of the grief the first followers of Jesus are feeling as it is become real to them that Jesus will be leaving them. Let’s remember some things about John’s gospel.

The central event of John’s gospel is foot washing. There is no Lord’s supper or last supper. We wash feet here, at Trinity, on Maundy Thursday of Holy Week. We bring our dirty, smelly, funny looking feet forward for someone we may or may not know, to wash, and dry. It is an amazingly vulnerable act. This is what Jesus does. Jesus gets down on his knees and washes the mud, dirt, the dust, the crap, off of the feet of his friends. I’m not sure we can understand the intimacy of this act, this is the service of a true friend, a relationship that has been built as Jesus and the disciples have shared everything together for the last three years.

Do you have a friend like that? A friend you have known since childhood. A friend for whom you would give your life. A friend who tells you the truth. A friend who knows all your secrets. This relationship, this friendship, Jesus and those who followed him them, and those who follow him now, is a deep and abiding relationship.

Jesus washes his friends’ feet, and the whole time he knows that Judas has already sold him out, and that Peter will deny his own friendship with Jesus. We must picture this foot washing with this in mind, we must feel the poignancy of the moment, in order to understand the depth of betrayal, denial, and the shattering of relationship.

But despite all of that, Jesus says, do not let your hearts be troubled. They are having an awful time accepting the fact of their separation, accepting the fact that Jesus is going away, and accepting Jesus’ promise that they will always be with him. Thomas voices their confusion; how do we know where you’re going Jesus? Thomas wants a map, he wants geography, but what Jesus has for them is not a map, but a relationship. A deep, abiding relationship where there is room for all of them. A deep, abiding, expansive relationship that is wide enough for all to enter.

Early in John’s gospel Jesus has said, I AM, which means your God is present. Jesus also says, I am the bread, I am the light, I am the door, I am the resurrection and the life, I am the good shepherd, I am the vine you are the branches, indicating a deeply intimate relationship. And here Jesus says, I am the way, I am the truth, and I am the life. These are words of comfort and description; they are not conditional. These are words that help the disciples know about relationship, Jesus and God, Jesus and them, Jesus and us. These are words that assure us of a relationship, they are particular in that way. This is a relationship that is deep, abiding, and intimate. These words invite, they do not exclude.

The disciples were living in a very troubling time, and they were afraid to let go of Jesus. Jesus assures them that he is already preparing a place for them, already preparing to be with them in a new way, a way of comfort and spirit.

At the core of John’s gospel is relationship, deep, abiding, ongoing. Everything in John’s gospel shows Jesus pursuing that relationship, and it shows the very much human disciples betraying, denying, and bungling. And in our time of uncertainty, our time of disconnection, our time of grief, our time when we cannot do anything that we have always believed to be at the center of connection, Jesus does not ever stop calling to us, being with us, holding us up and holding us together.

Community and relationship look different today, they look like love from a distance. But relationships are no less strong, and community no less resilient. In fact, we are being called to a new way of love today, a way that demands more from us, not less. More commitment to love one another from a distance, more commitment to be connected. Jesus invites us to follow the way, be the truth, and live as if everyone is related. Amen.

Sunday, May 3, 2020

Fourth Sunday of Easter Yr A May 3 2020


Youtube video  Fourth Sunday of Easter Yr A May 3 2020
Acts 2:42-47, 1 Peter 2:19-25, John 10:1-10, Psalm 23

On hot summer nights, when every kid in the entire neighborhood was out playing kick the can, my mom would yell out the back door, Kathy! and I’d come running. I heard my mother’s voice, and recognized that I wanted to come running into her wide and wonderful and protective embrace. Jesus is like that in this passage we have from John. Jesus calls our names, and we come a runnin. And Jesus is not just holding the door open wide for all of us, but Jesus is the door through which we find love and life.

So when we look at this passage about the shepherd, we also need to look at where it sits in John’s discourse. The story right before this one in John is the story of the man born blind. How long was he blind? Blind from birth, a long, long, time. The man, blind from birth, hears the voice of Jesus, recognizes who Jesus is, and is healed. Jesus asks the man who was formerly blind, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” And the no longer blind man answers, “And who is he, sir?” Jesus responds, “You have seen him, and the one speaking to you is he.” The formerly blind man proclaims, “Lord, I believe.”

Lord, I believe. This man, blind from birth, and no longer blind, has a whole new life, he can see, the world before him and around him is opened up, the landscape of his life is completely changed. No longer does he sit on the margins, he can see, no longer does he beg, he can see. His life is completely transformed, this is new life indeed.

And immediately we hear another story, really a continuing story, that the abundant life the no longer blind man received, is available to us as well.

Jesus the shepherd, calling my name, calling your name. What is that like, hearing Jesus, the shepherd calling our names? How do we recognize that voice? Kathy, I love you, come to me, let me embrace you, let me give you all you need, let me fill that hole in your heart with life, with love. Come, come with me, walk with me into this amazing place, run into my arms, into my embrace, this place of love, this place of life.

Jesus says, I am the door, come through me, here is a place of protection, of nurture, of sustenance, this is a place created for you. And when our eyes are opened, when we hear and recognize the voice of the one who creates us, and comes to be with us, and loves us, we run through that door.

And what’s more, is that Jesus does this again, and again, Jesus calls his followers by name, but not just you and me, Lazarus as well. You remember, Lazarus had been dead for four days. Jesus arrived at the tomb of his friend, and Jesus wept, and Jesus called to Lazarus, Lazarus, come out! In hearing his name, Lazarus came out, and was unbound, set free. Lazarus, the one who was dead, is now alive.

But it gets even better! It’s not just you and me and Lazarus, Mary as well. Mary stood weeping at Jesus’ tomb. She bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, sitting where Jesus should have been laying dead. She did not know where Jesus had been taken.

She turned around and Jesus was standing there, but she didn’t know him, she thought he was the gardener. Until he spoke to her, until he called her name, Mary! She turned and saw him, teacher! Mary went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord!” I have seen the Lord!

The abundance of the life Jesus invites us into is shown to us by the healing of the man blind from birth. Being blind from birth is being blind for-ever, and yet this man can see! He recognizes Jesus. This is an abundance that is immense, over the top. The man who was blind, now is saved from darkness. The man who was blind is brought from the margins of the community, into the community.
The man who was blind, has new and abundant life. Lazarus lives! Mary proclaims. We hear Jesus call our name, we recognize Jesus is the door through which we too can see God’s presence with us, making us into a beloved child of God. Giving us sight that enables us to see Jesus in our midst, in ourselves, in one another. Giving us sight that enables us to proclaim, like Mary, I have seen the Lord!

And what’s more, what’s even more over the top, more abundant, more amazing, is that Jesus, the door into God’s embrace, God’s love, is not exclusive or judging. This not about keeping people out, this is Jesus inviting people into new life, abundant life. “I am the door” is to invite people in, to recognize God in the flesh that is Jesus’ new and abundant life. To hear the voice of the shepherd, to walk through the door that is open, is to follow Jesus into Life, abundant life. Life in the here and now and life eternal in the resurrection. Life in the here and now and life even when Jesus leaves us. You are enough, see Jesus, recognize Jesus is God with us, walk through the door, and receive life, abundant life.

As these days of distancing wear on, as we itch to get to a new time of new community, where is the voice of the shepherd, assuring you of abundant love? I hear it in the laughter of my neighbor children playing in the dandelions in the park behind my house. I hear it in the calls and notes and visits from all of you, asking how it's going, encouraging, caring. As our eyes are opened to new ways of being with one another, can we see that we are all hurting, and we are all doing our best. Can we see Jesus among us, in those who don't want to follow the rules, and in those who must be in harms way? We are being called to a new communion, a new way of being, one in which the old barriers are being broken. Our blindness is healed, a new door is opened.
Amen.

Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Yr B, Proper 27, Nov 10 2024, St. M and M, Eagan MN

Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Yr B, Proper 27, Nov 10 2024, St. M and M, Eagan MN 1 Kings 17:8-16, Psalm 146, Hebrews 9:24-28, Mark 1...