First Sunday after Christmas Dec 29 2024 Grace Episcopal Church

First Sunday after Christmas Dec 29 2024 Grace Episcopal Church

Isaiah 61:10-62:3, Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7, John 1:1-18, Psalm 147 or 147:13-21
 
John begins at the beginning; in the beginning was the Word. And so John, very intentionally, 
places us at the beginning, Calling to mind the first words of the first book of the Holy Scripture that John had on his heart, From Genesis, in the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth. And so John very intentionally introduces us to one of the themes that for him shapes all of faith, the light that has come into the world.
 
I know sometimes the translation in The Message seems odd, but in this case I really like it, in John 1 we hear, “The Word was first, the Word present to God, God present to the Word. The Word was God, in readiness for God from day one. Everything was created through him; nothing—not one thing!—came into being without him. What came into existence was Life, and the Life was Light to live by. The Life-Light blazed out of the darkness; the darkness couldn’t put it out.”
 
And as we know, John’s beginning parallels the very first words of our sacred story in Genesis 1. Again, from the Message we hear “God spoke: “Light!” And light appeared. God saw that light was good and separated light from dark. God named the light Day, God named the dark Night. 
It was evening, it was morning—Day One.” 

So it isn’t just seasonal, though at this time of the year we are very conscious of the lack of light,
for John light and dark, life and death are the same thing. The light bursts into the world, God with us, it is wondrous.

I wonder how you imagine this wondrous thing that God does? Creation, incarnation, resurrection. I think many of you know that I have been a swimmer my whole life. So I imagine swimming, maybe you can too. Maybe snorkeling or even SCUBA diving in a beautiful, sun filled ocean. You dive. You dive deep. You dive to the depths of the ocean. It is cold, and dark, and beautiful. You see fish and plants you’ve never seen before, but always through the darkness of that ocean water. You see only what is in front of your face. Your breath is shallow, not deep and complete. Not only are there beautiful fish, but there are fish that look like monsters. You return to the surface. You very slowly return to the sun and warmth and light, because you must having dived so deep. At your return to the surface you see more clearly, breathe more deeply.
 
And you may see the world a little differently, in ways you may not have imagined feeling the warmth of the sunshine all over your body. I think this is what incarnation is like, this is what resurrection is like, this is what new life is like. God dives down deep into our dimly lit lives, 
Like in the depths of the ocean. And Jesus swims around us and enlightens our underwater vision so we can see and care for all of the teeming creation. And Jesus picks us up off the bottom of the ocean and carries us into that sunshine, into that new life that we inhabit.
 
Incarnation and resurrection, 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 always hope 
that the smallest source of light might create the possibility of love and belief and connection.
 
And for John, darkness represents the lack of relationship and connection. 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 pointing the way to the Light.
 
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 sense, it is about God’s 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. Incarnation is about showing up, and showing forth the light that shines in darkness, and the love that wins. Love is born into human flesh. 

I leave you with a poem today. 
Because Madeleine L’engle can always say it better than me.

God did not wait till the world was ready,
till men and nations were at peace.
God came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.
God did not wait for the perfect time.
God came when the need was deep and great.
Jesus dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine.
He did not wait till hearts were pure.
In joy Jesus came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
he came, and his Light would not go out.
Jesus came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.
We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
God came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!

Madeleine L’Engle, First Coming, from A Cry Like a Bell

Fourth Sunday of Advent Yr C Dec 22 2024 St. Martha and Mary, Eagan

Fourth Sunday of Advent Yr C Dec 22 2024 St. Martha and Mary, Eagan

Micah 5:2-5a, Hebrews 10:5-10, Luke 1:39-45, (46-55), Canticle 15

When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leapt in her womb. Imagine these two women - Elizabeth, barren and too old to conceive, Mary, unmarried and too young to have a baby - both of these women have been favored by God. Elizabeth exclaims, “This is what the lord has done for me when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.” Being barren in Elizabeth’s world was shameful. Shame means unworthy, and yet in this story Elizabeth is far from shamed, far from unworthy, she is favored by God. And Elizabeth recognizes Mary also as a favored one. I wondered about what that means, so I did a little digging, and learned that favor here means being seen, being regarded. 

Elizabeth’s and Mary’s stories are woven together, not only are they relatives, they are both favored by God. They are both seen by God, they are both regarded by God. Elizabeth stands up and claims God’s regard for herself, and then proclaims God’s regard for her young cousin Mary. Elizabeth knows the blessedness of Mary because she has experienced it herself. Elizabeth calls Mary “mother of my Lord.” And Elizabeth feels a leap of joy in her womb. These are indeed inconceivable conceptions. 

Being seen, being regarded by God, as both Elizabeth and Mary are, this is no small thing. One of the deepest longings of the human soul is to be seen. You see, this is what is happening in these inconceivable conceptions. God came into Elizabeth’s life when her culture judged her worthless and barren, and God lifted her up among women and she bore John, the preparer of the way. God came into Mary’s life, a young Jewish girl, and told her she would be the mother of God. And yes, Mary did know. God came low, and saw Elizabeth and Mary, regarded Elizabeth and Mary, favored Elizabeth and Mary. God comes into our midst, God comes low. God comes into the mess and the muck of our lives, our stables. God stoops, and looks into our eyes and says, you are worthy, you are favored, you are loved. 

God finds Elizabeth and Mary, in the temple and in the farmyard, around the family table, and God sees them. God sees Mary, young Mary, of no means, and God risks everything, and enters creation in the same way you and I did, as a baby. Before God fed us with bread and wine, body and blood, God was fed by a mother who was exhausted and unsure. 

Have you ever asked yourself why you are a follower of Jesus? I have, and this is why. Right here, in this story. God, the creator of all that is - seen and unseen, comes low, and in the vulnerability of a baby, says to Mary, and Elizabeth, and all the women before them and after them, I see you, you are favored. And not just the women, but men too, and all the others in between. God enters the wilderness and lifts up the lowly and scatters the proud. God sees us, God loves us, God favors us. God wants to know us. 

Even when that is so hard to believe. Remember, faith is not reasonable- because it wasn’t for reason, but for love -that Jesus came. 

It is for love that Jesus came, and maybe we can respond like Mary, like Elizabeth. Maybe we can respond with shouts of joy, with dances of gladness. This Good News changes us forever; it changes our world forever. It is as inconceivable and unreasonable that each of us is a God-bearer as it is that Mary is a Christ-bearer. It is inconceivable that God bursts into our world. And yet, all of Advent we wait in active anticipation of the moment that God bursts into our world as a baby, and that God bursts into our world to bring our history; our lives, to fulfillment. 

Mary takes her place among the messengers of God’s kingdom, from Miriam and Hannah to Isaiah and Malichi, all those who were prompted by the spirit of God to call their people to repent and rejoice. Mary’s song calls us to respond in joy and praise. The gospel of Luke is filled with people singing songs of praise. The Benedictus, known as the song of Zechariah, Luke 1:68-79, page 92, Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel. The Nunc Dimittus, the song of Simeon, Luke 2:29-32, p. 93, Lord, you now have set your servant free, the Magnificat, the song of Mary, Luke 1:46-55, p. 91, My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord. And Luke’s gospel ends in the temple with praise, after the ascension, they returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God. The response to joy is praise - and Luke gives us the words to praise. 

Mary has been seen by God. She has been raised a good Jewish girl. She knows her scripture, she knows her place. Saying yes to God puts her in a very awkward, precarious, and dangerous position, others before her have been stoned when found pregnant and unmarried. She is not perfect, but she is perfectly loved. God comes low to inhabit a most vulnerable creation, a baby, born from a woman of no account, in a most humble place, a barn. And Mary responds, my soul proclaims the goodness of the Lord. 

And she also sings about the justice God brings to God’s people with the birth of love. Mary’s song of praise is also Mary’s song of justice. God is born in a barn, to Mary, and to Joseph, who have very little, but who say yes to this love. Mary knows that this life will be filled with heartache that will give birth to God in our midst. God favors Mary, God sees Mary. Saying yes to God makes this life joyful, but not necessarily easy. 

God sees you too, God loves you too. What is your Magnificat? What is your response to God’s magnificent love? I find my Magnificat contained in a Christmas Hymn,

O Holy Night!

The stars are brightly shining

It is the night of the dear Savior's birth!

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

Till he appear'd and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope the weary soul rejoices

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

May you say yes with Mary, may you trust that you have found favor with God and recognize yourself in the reflection of God’s love, may your soul cry out with a joyful shout that the God of your heart is great.

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 12:38-44

I’ll begin this morning with the great prophet, Gandalf, who says in response to Frodo’s comment, "I wish it need not have happened in my time." Gandalf says, "So do I, and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” 

(JRR Tolkien, The Hobbit, Book 1, chapter 2)

As we sit in these chairs this morning, as we go about our business and our lives, all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us. I acknowledge the emotions swirling about post-election. 

Grief, 

rage, 

happiness, 

satisfaction, 

smugness, 

abandonment. 

What will you do with the time you are given?

In this story from Mark, Jesus shows us what to do with the time we are given. Jesus focuses our attention, and begins with this admonition. “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.” And then Jesus points us to the widow, he focuses all our attention on the widow. Jesus notices her, and lifts up her ordinary and humble faithfulness. Jesus calls attention to her generosity and faithfulness.

No matter what is swirling around us, Jesus calls us to generosity and faithfulness. No matter what crumbles and collapses in front of us, Jesus calls us to generosity and faithfulness. No matter who is leading, Jesus calls us to generosity and faithfulness.

Our marching orders remain the same no matter what, like the widow who shows us generosity and faithfulness, we go out into the world bearing witness to God’s love, we bear witness to generosity and faithfulness. St. Francis of Assisi has been quoted wrongly, “Preach the gospel at all times; when necessary, use words.” When actually what St. Francis really said, “It is no use walking anywhere to preach unless our walking is our preaching.” This makes so much more sense to me. Our walking is our preaching. What we say and do must be the Good News. What will you do with the time you are given? What does your walking say to those around you? How does your life embody the Gospel of love, generosity, faithfulness, inclusion, wherever you are walking?

When the earth shakes around us, what does your life say about the God who stoops and pulls you off the floor and says, I am with you? When there are wars and rumors of wars, what does your life say about the God who says you are strong and capable of doing hard things? When you are feeling alone and alien, what does your life say about the God who goes to the ends of the earth to include all creation in God’s body? When you feel like you cannot go on, what does your life say about the God who brings life out of death?

What will you do with the time you are given? 

How will you bear witness to God’s light and God’s love? 

Jesus points us to the widow, Jesus raises her up, Jesus calls attention to her poverty, and to her generosity. She begs these questions. Where will you focus your attention? With whom will you stand? And I can’t answer any of these questions for you. But I don’t need to, you need to. I believe the arc of God’s love answers these questions. Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the imprisoned, love those who are alien. Be an advocate for health and healing, for justice and mercy, for honesty and truth.

None of this is easy, but God doesn’t call us to easy, God calls us to generosity and faithfulness. 

God calls us to be alert and present in the time that is given to us. And there is always something else we must remember. Jesus calls the disciples, ill-equipped as they are, a rag tag bunch of fishermen, women and men who long for something more. Women and men who are just like us, full of pride, full of anger, full of indignation, full of joy, full of ourselves. Jesus has stooped and picked us out of the bottom of the fishy boat, picked us up off the street, picked us up off the bathroom floor, picked us up out of the muck and the mess, and incorporates us into his body. We are made whole in the body of Christ, we are connected to God, to Jesus, to Spirit and to one another. We are not alone. This is our superpower. We live out this life in relationship with God, Jesus, Spirit and one another. We are not alone.

And it is in the middle of all of this where the light burns. No matter who you are or where you stand, 

let your light shine, it joins with all the others whom God loves, and God loves all of creation, to make one incredibly bright light. Together we will shine the light of God’s love. We will show our families, friends, neighbors, and those with whom we radically disagree, what love looks like. 

May we be like this woman in our story who knew no other than generosity and faithfulness.

Make it so. Thanks be to God.

  

“Life is short, my friends,

and we do not have too much time

to gladden the hearts of others.

So be quick to love,

and make haste to be kind.

And the blessing of God Almighty,

who created you in love,

who walks with you in love,

and who will bring you home in love,

be upon you and all whom you love,

this day forth and forever more. Amen.”

Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 24 Yr B Oct 20 2024, Grace Mpls

Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 24 Yr B Oct 20 2024, Grace Mpls

Job 38:1-7, Psalm 104:1-9, 25, 37b, Hebrews 5:1-10, Mark 10:33-45

Teacher, we have something we want you to do for us, James and John ask Jesus. Arrange it, they say, so that we will be awarded the highest places of honor in your glory - one of us at your right, the other at your left. James and John ask Jesus for something Jesus has shown no desire to give, placing some above others. Or giving some more or better attention. But James and John are not ill-informed or ignorant. They’ve witnessed Jesus’ miracles and listened to his teachings. James and John are doing what humans do best, hoping and praying that the world has not and will not change as much as it already has and as much as they know it will. But there is no return for James and John to what once was, to the power structures that used to be, not after Jesus turned the tables, not after the heavens were ripped apart. There is no going back. 

This misunderstanding follows the third time in Mark’s story Jesus tells the disciples the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes and will be condemned to death. The disciples, even though this is the third time they’ve heard Jesus say this, continue to  find this news astounding, alarming, and frightening. And equally as astounding, I think it causes James and John especially, and the others as well, to be confused about their own calling, and about who Jesus is. James and John seem to think this is about seating order at a party, not life in God's kingdom. They don’t seem to remember that Jesus has just taught them about laying down their life, or about what greatness looks like, or the words about being last of all and servant of all. And so Jesus has to tell them again. Jesus says, “I know this is hard, are you willing to accept that? Are you willing to drink the cup I will drink? Are you willing to be in this all the way to the end? Are you willing to participate in this earth shaking change? Are you willing to receive my love, my gift, for your freedom?” Because, Jesus’ love for us, God’s beloveds, washes over all of us no matter what.

We are more like James and John than we care to admit. We fall back on what we know—what’s comfortable; how the world always worked. The “used to be’s”. For James and John, that meant glory in hierarchy and power as prestige. Sounds a little too familiar, doesn’t it?

But the world changed for James and John, and all of Jesus’ followers. Jesus goes to the cross. The world has changed for us. What once was, is not working anymore. We know that. Deep in our hearts and souls. And we’re just beginning to learn how to fix it.

We are so like James and John. If Jesus were anything like me, and thank goodness he’s not, Jesus would say to James and John, since when did you think this was about you? Since when did you think this is about your power, your prestige, your privilege? 

You see, it’s about Jesus’ love for us, we are God’s beloveds. It’s about Jesus’ call to us to love our neighbor. Like James and John and the others, we get frightened or confused about our calling as citizens of God’s kingdom, and we forget who Jesus is. What we must remember is that Jesus’ love for us, God’s beloveds, washes over all of us no matter what.

Jesus’ love for us, God’s beloveds, washes over all of us no matter what. The call that James and John seem to be missing is right there in front of them, and is really good news, whoever wants to be great must become a servant. In the household of God, no one can claim privilege of place; we are all God’s children, and we are reminded of that in our baptism. Jesus asks James and John if they are willing to dive into the water with him. "The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized." Jesus’ journey in the gospel of Mark’s gospel  began in the waters of the Jordan, in baptism, and that journey goes to the cross and resurrection. The grace in this story is that Jesus is the one who comes and shows the way of love, Jesus shows the way of vulnerability, Jesus shows the way of service,  all the way to the cross. You see, speaking and acting in terms of who deserves what, who deserves health care or housing or hospitality, who deserves eternal life, who deserves to be on Jesus’ right hand, are embedded in Jesus’ life of service. The grace in this story is that Jesus, with his very life, death, and resurrection, puts himself in our place, in your place, and in my place, and says, everyone of you is worth my love. Jesus’ love for us, God’s beloveds, washes over all of us no matter what.

You are God’s beloved. You are baptized into Jesus' life, suffering, death, and resurrection. Taking Jesus' cup is about diving into the waters of our own baptism, waters that bring the dead to life, waters that fill an empty soul, waters that give a heart the only thing worth living, and worth dying for. We get completely wet in these holy waters. There is grace in diving into the waters of baptism, and receiving the unconditional, undeserved, underrated love that is God’s love. When we take the cup that Jesus drinks, when we are washed with the waters of baptism, we, God’s beloveds, are called to respond to Jesus’ love, with love. We are called not to the seat of power, but to the posture of service. And our lives are made new, our lives are transformed, our lives become the wave of change. The wave of change, the wave of love, the wave of mercy, the wave of kindness. 

For the early followers of Jesus, the world has changed forever, there is no going back to life before the storm. Remember that when the heavens were ripped apart, the Spirit was let loose into the world, descending from firmament’s fissure and into Jesus. It would be that same Spirit who would be present with Jesus in the wilderness, on the cross, and in that cold, dark, and seemingly hopeless tomb. It would be that same Spirit who would stir the hearts of Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome to go back to that grave and look death in the eye once again. And it is that same Spirit who is in and among us, with us and beside us, calling us to change our perspective, to see what can be, to trust that the kingdom of God has come near and still is. It is that same Spirit who is inspiring God’s church once again to lead from the gospel, and to preach with our actions and sometimes our words,  the gospel we know to be true: our God is here. Believe in the good news. Amen. 

14 Pentecost, Yr B, Proper 16, Aug 25 2024, Grace Church, Minneapolis

14 Pentecost, Yr B, Proper 16, Aug 25 2024, Grace Church, Minneapolis

1 Kings 8:[1, 6, 10-11], 22-30, 41-43, Psalm 84, Ephesians 6:10-20, John 6:56-69

 

So we come to our last Sunday reading this sixth chapter of John. Jesus is the bread of life. Jesus is eternal life. And we hear some of Jesus’ disciples say, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?”

 

Are we some of those people? Do we ever say, following Jesus is just too hard? Do we ever say, this teaching is difficult; this one I’ll just pretend isn’t there? Some of it is really hard, following Jesus is hard, but we can do hard things. So today let’s take a look at what Jesus asks of us. Let’s take a look at how Jesus empowers us to be followers. And most especially, let’s take a look at how Jesus fills us with food, nourishment, and life, so that we may have new life. Let’s take a look at how Jesus abides in us.

 

And to get there, we need to remember what John asks us to recall. John assumes that we know our bible, and the story of Moses and the Hebrew people wandering in the wilderness for 40 years. They did a bit of whining while they were wandering, wouldn’t we all, and yet they were fed manna. They were sustained in the wilderness, but John is making a point that even that food was not the bread of life, the living bread. The trouble in this text is that people don’t believe Jesus is who he is. The trouble is that people don’t believe Jesus is God in the flesh.

 

It’s important for us to remember that John’s story is told many years after Jesus lived, suffered, died, resurrected, and ascended. John finds it very hard to understand that anyone who has an encounter 

with the story of Jesus would not believe that Jesus is indeed God in the flesh, the incarnate one. John shows us the truth of who Jesus is by showing us the signs that Jesus did, turning water into wine, healing the woman who bled for years, healing the man who was ill for 38 years, feeding 5000 people, healing the man blind from birth, and raising Lazarus from the dead. So the disciples make the statement we are thinking in our heads. This is hard, not only to wrap our minds around, but to open our hearts, and to follow.

 

What makes it so hard? Maybe because we didn’t see it ourselves or hear it ourselves. The trouble in our world is that talk about being faithful rather than successful is all foolishness. You all know this. You all have experienced this. Talking about things not seen makes your sanity suspect. Commitment to gathering in Jesus’ name, prayer and study makes your priorities questionable in some circles. And abiding in Jesus’ real presence in bread and wine, body and blood, is foolish.

 

So this good news is hard because it calls us away from a narrative of rugged individualism into community and interdependence, it calls us to accountability, it calls us to lay down our own desire for power. That’s why the Jewish and Roman authorities of Jesus day tried to trip him up, why tried to snare him. Their power was being threatened. And it is not so different today.

So in this last story of John’s gospel about the bread of life, the living bread, let’s see what may be going on. Remember the word John uses for the deep relationship Jesus has with us, to abide, or dwell. John is very interested in showing Jesus’ followers that is you and me, what incarnation looks like. Incarnation, God stooping to be born in a barn, God coming into this world as one of us, God taking on flesh. Incarnation means God dwells with us, God in our midst, God in the flesh. This relationship between God in the flesh, who is Jesus, and God’s creation, you and me, is cellular, it is so deep and so broad and so wide, it is so intimate, that Jesus’ presence is nourishment, sustenance, life, it is bread for our souls.

 

John uses this verb, abide, throughout the gospel, and it means the mutual indwelling of God, Jesus, and the disciples. Jesus says, “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his Love.” There is a sense of divine presence and companionship, and friendship.

 

Could this also be what is so hard? And maybe even scary. That God, who is creator of all that is, seen and unseen, creator of the cosmos, sees fit to walk this journey of life with us. That Jesus is so very present with us. Really present, present when we are so broken, we have no hope that the bits and pieces could ever be made whole again. Really present, present when our joy is so intense that we feel it throughout our bodies. Really present even in our worries, and in our mistakes that deep down inside we believe cannot be forgiven. Really present when we are filled with bread that is body 

and wine that is blood. Really present, and that presence fills us with fear, fear that is awe.

 

We have lost the sense of awe. Everything is awesome, but what about awe - full? Jesus, really present in the bread and the wine, the body and the blood, fills us with fear, with awe. How can this be? This is really hard, and somewhat scary. Jesus abides in us, Jesus calls us into relationship, Jesus nourishes us. Because when we are filled with Jesus, filled with bread and wine, body and blood, we are changed, we are transformed, and we are deepened, we are made into who God means for us to be. It is this abiding presence that empowers us to let go of and to lay down our burdens, our addictions, our worries, and be made into the new creation of God’s dream. And letting go is hard, giving up power, and the illusion of control is hard, but you can do hard things.

 

God’s dream for us is to be people who love. Because, if it’s not about love, it’s not about God. We are people who follow Jesus, who each day face the realities of our lives, our joys and our sorrows, our anxieties and our loveliness. We are people who get out of bed each day to face ourselves with integrity and honesty, with the heart knowledge that Jesus abides in us. We step out into the world in love. We leave this place filled with the real presence of Jesus. We love, we follow Jesus, because God first loved us.

 

Risen lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread. 

Lord Jesus, abide in us, as we love one another. 

Amen.

“Life is short, my friends,

and we do not have too much time

to gladden the hearts of others.

So be quick to love,

and make haste to be kind.

And the blessing of God Almighty,

who created you in love,

who walks with you in love,

and who will bring you home in love,

be upon you and all whom you love,

this day forth and forever more. Amen.”

13 Pentecost Yr B Proper 15 Aug 18 2024

13 Pentecost Yr B Proper 15 Aug 18 2024 St. Martha and Mary, Eagan

Proverbs 9:1-6, Psalm 34:9-14, Ephesians 5:15-20, John 6:51-58

When my mom died, we spent some time going through her things of course, and I went through her recipe box. I looked at and read many of her recipes, some I remembered with fondness, others were forgettable. I took pictures of some, the ones in her handwriting, and places where she had taken notes about changes to the recipe. I have her pie crust recipe, with the corners and the edges of the paper all folded and ripped. It's a little like talking to her about it. Kathy, if the air is dry you need a little more flour, or for the lefse recipe, if the potatoes are a little moist, just throw in a little extra flour. A recipe is not just a recipe, it's a story, a story of how it used to be, or a story of scarcity that proves to be abundance. My mom was the queen at being able to make a pound of ground beef feed a family of ten. Isn’t that the way it usually happens, you go looking for a good recipe, and in return you get wisdom, maybe it also happens the other way around too, you share a good recipe, and you share a bit of wisdom as well. 

We have the same pairing in our readings today, wisdom and good food; maybe there is not one without the other. Wisdom in scripture is not just about being wise, as opposed to being foolish; God has built wisdom into the fabric of the cosmos. And we learn from wisdom that there are certain ways of living in which people thrive, and other ways of living which lead people to death. Ordering your life to wisdom is what we read about in these scripture passages today. Wisdom and food. “Eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight.” In Ephesians we hear about wisdom as right living, “be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise. Do not be foolish, but understand what the will,” which also may be translated desire, “understand what the desire of the Lord is. Sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, giving thanks to God the father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” 

One of the marks of following Jesus is intentionality and spiritual practice. A mistake is made when people, Christians and others, think morality is the marker. It is not. I believe that intentionality, spiritual practice and our prayer together, or common prayer, forms us into the people who God desires us to be, who God dreams we can be. Not a perfect people, but a wise people, a people who can love one another, learn from one another. Paul’s words for the Ephesians are about wisdom as right living, and that God’s desire for us, God’s people, is to live wisely.

In John’s gospel, the wisdom tradition is applied to Jesus; Jesus now is the embodiment of wisdom. We continue to hear about the living bread, the bread that is Jesus. John is making a claim about the radical presence of God in Jesus, essentially John is saying that in Jesus, God provides everything; God’s abundance is made real in Jesus. We are invited to be present in God’s bounty. We are invited to feast on wisdom; we are invited to eternal life, all contained in this loaf of bread. 

God has built wisdom into the fabric of the cosmos. Ordering our lives to wisdom brings abundant and bountiful life. Jesus is the embodiment of wisdom, and therefore not only do we feast on wisdom we feast on Jesus. Ordinary bread and our ordinary lives are made extraordinary by God’s abundant love.

I am reminded of the movie Chocolat. The story is about a young mother who with her young daughter blows into a rural French village on the first Sunday of Lent. She opens a chocolate shop and prepares amazing confections that seem to transform those who eat them. She is opposed however by those in the town who live by a certain set of rules, a morality, that doesn’t allow for the ordinary pleasure of chocolate, most especially during Lent. 

Our main character in the movie dispenses wisdom along with chocolate and other confections. Entering her chocolate shop through the ordinary front door results in extraordinary nourishment. And yet, there remain those who will not cross the threshold for fear of what may happen and how they may be changed. 

We are changed by ordinary bread, into an extraordinary community. We are changed by the wisdom feast into the body of Christ teeming with extraordinary life. We are changed as we abide in the flesh and blood of Jesus. This is as clear as Jesus can possibly get, whoever eats me will live. Wise or foolish, that is the reality. And that reality is scary to some, some will not cross the threshold into love because it changes them. 

The call to follow Jesus is a call to a foolish life of love. To follow Jesus is to believe that ordinary bread is made extraordinary, that it can fill you up and heal your heart. To follow Jesus is to practice the intentionality of love, even when you don't feel like it. To follow Jesus is to buck the conventional wisdom that the first will be first and the last will be last, it is to be fools for Christ and witness that the first will be last, and the last will be first. To follow Jesus is to let the truth that loves wins, take hold of your heart and your mind.

Following Jesus takes practice, it takes foolishness and wisdom, it takes brokenness and healing, it takes listening to our mistakes, and it takes forgiveness. Following Jesus is hard in this world where money and power seem to matter more than wisdom and love. Following Jesus means walking the road together, and sharing some bread along the way, oh, and some chocolate too. 

Following Jesus is to take into ourselves the very foolishness of flesh and blood, following Jesus is to practice loving our neighbor with intentionality and wisdom, following Jesus means that we will be changed. 

Thanks be to God.

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost Proper 11 Yr B July 21 2024, St. Martha and Mary, Eagan

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost Proper 11 Yr B July 21 2024, St. Martha and Mary, Eagan

Jeremiah 23:1-6, Psalm 23, Ephesians 2:11-22, Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

So there’s been some Taylor Swift mania going on these days. I really didn’t know who she was until recently, when there was some hullabaloo around football and her, and I have some interest in football. So, in order to educate myself, I watched some videos of both football and Taylor Swift. And you know what blows me away? She is an impressive entertainer, she puts on quite a show, but what really blows me away are the people, the tens of thousands of people who gather in massive stadiums, usually meant for football, who come out to watch her. Thousands of people singing the lyrics to her songs in unison. Listening to her preach a gospel of empowerment, self-love, beauty, worthiness, and success. I get it now. In this age of social media, with sound bites of 280 characters or less, filled with venom, misunderstanding, hatred, cowardice, she sings for 5 to 10 minutes with the whole arena singing with her, a message of female ambition. Whether that makes you cringe, or it makes you pump your fist in victory, she commands a crowd. I’m not judging good or bad, right or wrong here, just observing, for Taylor Swift, whether you like it or not, it’s all about her.

But what I’m also observing is the rock star Jesus and his band in Mark’s gospel. Who by the time we get this far into it, is commanding huge crowds. I’m not trying to set this up as a contrast in values, but I am trying to set this up in a context of clarity. Jesus isn’t a great entertainer, as some would wish their preachers to be. He’s not even a great preacher, he probably wouldn’t have been selected by the call committee who states, “not only do we want a great administrator, and someone who can attract young families with children, we also want someone who can preach exciting sermons.” Jesus, as we know, did not run a successful show, to all the world, Jesus looked like a failure. 

Jesus attracted crowds by incarnating a new way, a way of love that crossed boundaries and demanded compassion. A way of love that was concerned with feeding and providing for everyone, including widows, orphans, Greeks, and Jews. A way of love that healed the sin sick soul of all who encountered the beloved community that was rising up to empower not themselves, but the least of them, the lost, the broken in body and in heart. 

Let’s take a look at where we find ourselves in Mark’s gospel. The lectionary reading we have today, from the 6th chapter of Mark, is broken up. As chapter 6 opens, Jesus leaves his hometown due to a lack of faith there, he takes the apostles with him, and commissions them to go out 2 x2 into the neighboring towns and villages to minister in his name, trusting in the hospitality that the villagers may offer. Then, inserted into this narrative, we heard it last week, is the grisly story of the beheading of John the Baptist. Today we catch up with the feeding story. This is where Jesus crosses boundaries and encounters the great crowds that have been building around him. We skip over the debate about who should feed that crowd, definitely a sermon for another day. We skip over the story about walking on water, again, a sermon for another day, and we finish with the story about Jesus being recognized and people begging Jesus to heal them, even if it was just to touch the fringe of his cloak. From here on out, for much of Mark’s gospel, we follow Jesus and his posse, crossing boundaries and healing people. 

Jesus intended to rest with the apostles for a leisurely retreat, but Jesus was recognized and was filled with compassion for those who found him. 

So let us rest here, even if Jesus and his companions could not. Compassion, what does that look like? Compassion seems to be in short supply these days. Compassion, used in this context is that gut reaction that makes your insides need to move. Compassion here identifies a profoundly intense emotional response that viscerally propels the one feeling compassion into action on behalf of others. 

Friends, this is what it means to build the kingdom, compassion. Talk about taking the bible seriously, talk about following Jesus, talk about the beloved community… all of it arcs toward the kind of compassion that is action on behalf of others. Story after story shows us Jesus acting on behalf of others, healing, tending, feeding, putting back together broken hearts and broken lives.

What are we to do? How are we called to be in our own lives as people who follow Jesus? In a present reality that seems so cynical, so critical, so cruel, what does it look like to cross boundaries of comfort into the discomfort of compassion? In the feeding of the five thousand story, even Jesus' disciples were all bent out of shape over who was responsible for feeding everyone. They asked Jesus, who’s gonna feed all these people gathered on this hillside. Jesus did not say, well, they should pull themselves up by their own bootstraps and feed themselves. Jesus' response to the disciples was, you are. You guys go figure it out, these people are hungry and you need to figure out a way to feed them. 

Feeding people is compassionate. Clothing people is compassionate. Housing people is compassionate. Healing people is compassionate. Caring about people is compassionate. Jesus’ mission, therefore our mission, is not about success, entertainment, or putting on a good show, our mission is about contributing to the beloved community by being compassionate. 

What does compassion look like? Compassion says, “I’m with you.“ Compassion says, “I am here to help.“ Compassion says, “Cast your burden on me.“ So here’s a very simple story about compassion. I live by myself, I wake up early in the morning and go to the YMCA for my daily swim. The first person that speaks to me is the woman who sits at the desk at the Y. Every morning she looks at me, greets me with a smile and says “good morning.” I’m hardly awake yet, but I smile back. After my swim, when I am awake, she sends me out the door with “have a great day.” It might not seem like much, but because she has shown up for me in that little way, she sets me on a course of compassion and I am sent into the world to show up for others with compassion.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

 

4 Easter Yr B April 21 2024, Christ the King (Sturgeon Bay, WI) - Holy Nativity (Jacksonport, WI)

4 Easter Yr B April 21 2024, Christ the King (Sturgeon Bay, WI) - Holy Nativity (Jacksonport, WI)

Acts 4:5-12, 1 John 3:16-24, John 10:11-18, Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me beside still waters. The words of this 23rd Psalm may be the most familiar words in the bible. The image of Jesus the Good Shepherd may be the most familiar image in the bible. It is depicted in artwork and in music and in beloved stained glass. We describe congregations as flocks, we describe pastors as shepherds. It isn't the only image of Jesus, but it may be the most comfortable. However, Jesus is also the bread, the light, a path, a gate, a vine. No matter how beloved, the Good Shepherd image is one among many that John presents to us.

Each one of the images that is presented to us about who Jesus is, the shepherd, the bread, the light, a path, a gate, a vine reveals something about the fullness and the wholeness and the extent of Jesus' invitation into the reality of the gift of God's love, the gift of God in our midst. Each of these images invites us in a different sort of way into how we might be related, how we might be in relationship, and what that trust is like and what it is about. This image we have before us today, this image of the Good Shepherd, helps us to see the fullness of God's investment in God's project of calling all people to God's self. We have in this story comfort and trust and guidance and we are called by name.

Hear the sound of your name as the one you love speaks it. Hear the sound of your name when your best friend in all the world is on the other end of the phone. Remember the sound of your name when your mom called you for dinner, or maybe used your entire name when you did something you shouldn’t have done, KATHLEEN ANN MONSON, or when she sang you to sleep at night. Even remember the sound of your name when used in anger, or in fear, KATHY, get out of the street! Or when your beloved calls out to you. When you hear your name like this, you know the one who is speaking it knows who you are. They’ve known you forever, they knew you before you were born, they’ve expected your homecoming, they named you, they love you. 

Hear the sound of your name as this one who loves you speaks it. You were called into being before you were born. Your name was spoken at your baptism. You are called to be the person you were created to be, the minister you were created to be. Kathy, follow me, you’ll be fed at green pastures and by still waters, I will guide you along right pathways, and be by your side through the valley of the shadow of death. I will feed you and fill you. You have been anointed for the work I call you to do. 

Who is this Good Shepherd that we follow? What makes the Good Shepherd good? For that we need to look at another story, the one that precedes this Good Shepherd story in John. Remember, location, location, location. It is what precedes the Good Shepherd story that tells us who this Good Shepherd is. In the story of the man born blind we have the sign that points us to the Good Shepherd. Jesus heals the man born blind. It’s an unprecedented miracle. And if that’s not enough, it is also an invitation to the possibilities of abundant life, as are all the signs in John. You have heard me speak of the themes in the gospel of John, and here is another one, grace upon grace. The granting of sight sign is grace, and what it signifies is grace upon grace. This man born blind has literally been in the dark, and now is in the light. The man born blind has moved from unbelief to belief. The blind man listens to Jesus’ voice and follows Jesus’ direction. The blind man first hears Jesus, just as Jesus’ sheep hear the shepherd’s voice.

And what happens to the man born blind once he is no longer blind? He is thrown to the curb, cast aside, marginalized, and Jesus, the Good Shepherd, calls to him, just as he calls to us, just as he calls to each and every one of God’s beloveds. That’s what makes the Good Shepherd good, no one is outside the Good Shepherd’s embrace. 

Jesus is the shepherd, calling my name, calling your name. 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 this door, 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 not even 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. 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!

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 being. 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 because Jesus lays down his life for us, 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. 

Jesus is the gate. And every sheep, everyone, is welcome. There is no priority of worth in God’s kingdom. All of us, those who are in pain, grief; those who are just messed up; those whose lives are just fine; those who need more and those who have all they need; those who just can’t believe. You, you are welcome, Jesus is the gate, Jesus is the shepherd, Jesus is the love that wins.