5 Epiphany Yr A February 5 2023

5 Epiphany Yr A February 5 2023

Isaiah 58:1-9a, [9b-12], 1 Corinthians 2:1-12, [13-16], Matthew 5:13-20, Psalm 112:1-9, (10)

 

Y’all know I went to seminary in Texas. I had to learn a whole new language and way of pronouncing words. Reading scripture story… laughing at the way I pronounced Lord – just after Fargo had come out….

 

So, in this passage, which is the continuation of the sermon on the mount that we began last week, you is y’all, or all y’all, it means all of you. The important difference this makes is that this is not just about you as an individual person, this is about all of you, all of us. This is a communal call; it is a communal claim to action. We do not do this alone. For the sake of community, for the sake of the world. 

 

So what is the this that we do not do alone? Concerning the beatitudes, or the blessings, it means that those blessings are not for any one individual, but for the community of disciples that follow Jesus. That’s all of us. It means that what we read today is for all of us. This is Jesus’ version of an “I have a dream speech.” Martin Luther King Jr. laid out an aspirational vision for society. That is what Jesus is doing; Jesus is laying out a vision for society, an alternate reality. Additionally, Jesus is identifying our role in this vision, this alternate reality. 

 

So let’s take a look at what Jesus continues to say to us. The first example is salt. Salt is salt, it’s job is to be salt, it can’t be pepper, for example. The second example is illumination. The purpose of a lamp is to shed light, that it’s job. It could be as simple as, you have a purpose, now get out there and do it. 

 

You are the light of the world. You are the light that shines in the darkness. This is an amazing declaration. Not only is God in our midst, God in the flesh, the light in the world, but that light, God in the flesh, God in our midst, is in us, shines through us, and as we bear that light into the world, darkness cannot overcome. That's not nothing, that's something. God's love, the love that wins, gets communicated to the world through you, through all y’all. Martin Luther King Jr. said "Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." And, something even more amazing, you are the light of the world, that is who you are, that is your job, you are a child of God. This is not about what you must do, it is about who you are, you can't help but be the light and drive out darkness.

 

Well, with that Good News, how does the love of God get communicated in the world through you? You are commissioned to be God's light in the world. As I use communicate in this context, I mean the fullness of that word, not just words. Some of the synonyms of communicate are connect, interface, make known, network, and relate. For me the ultimate meaning of communicate is in communion, "be known to us Lord Jesus, in the breaking of the bread." God's love gets communicated in the world through you, through y’all and the light that you bear. What does that look like?

 

These words lead me to picture God's communication through you as a light in the world like a web of relationship. You shine in your workplace, and God is present. You shine in your school, and God is present. You light up the darkness, and God's love is communicated and all of that is connected. 

 

The question is, what does it look like for you to be God's light in the world? What does it look like for your light to be the only light shining, what does it look like for your light to join with and be joined with others to create a brighter light? Again, it is not what we do, but who we are, God's beloved, that shines. But for others to see the light, sometimes it is what we do. So many of you are lights in the world. Your lights shine when you give a compassionate word at work, your lights shine when you give an encouraging word at the check out counter at the store, your lights shine when you shovel your neighbors walk. These light shining moments are so important and they are compounded in community. 

And your lights, your voices matter in a world that seems to have left compassion and justice behind. You are indeed, a light in the building of the kingdom. But what about when we join our lights in the web of relationship, when we join our lights in a community of light? 

 

When we do that, when lights shine in the darkness of injustice, when lights shine in the darkness of the disregard for human dignity, when lights shine in the darkness of the lack of access to education, we begin to see the building of God's kingdom. During this month that is designated Black History, we are reminded of the witness of this kind of light, in the persons and the web of community of the people who sat on buses and wouldn't give up their seats; the people who sat at lunch counters and endured the indignity of insults and attacks; the people who knocked on doors to register others to vote; the people who worked day in and day out at their jobs, so they might provide education for their children.

 

And why is being God's light in the world so important? It important because God's love is what brings us back together, puts the fragments of our lives back together. It is God's love, borne by your light, that can bring healing and wholeness to our broken world. Indeed, it is God's mission to heal our world, and it is our mission to co-conspire with God in that healing. 

 

Darkness has no power to extinguish even the faintest of lights, but we can fan a single flame into a roaring fire. We can spread this light by embracing it, by becoming lights ourselves: the lights of the world. It is our job, just like being salty is salt’s job, and just like being bright is the light’s job, it is our job as followers of Jesus to reflect and enhance God’s light in the world. It is our job to participate in what God is doing, to get on board with God’s creativity in the world. It is our job to string our lights together and show the way to the love that wins. Amen. 

Fifth Sunday of Easter Yr A May 10 2020

Video

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, 16^th 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.

Third Sunday of Easter Yr A April 26 2020

 Video

Third Sunday of Easter Yr A April 26 2020

Acts 2:14a,36-41, 1 Peter 1:17-23, Luke 24:13-35, Psalm 116:1-3, 10-17

Risen Lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread. From the moment my journey in the Episcopal church began, this is the scripture, the prayer, the action, that made the presence of Jesus Christ real for me. There is nothing about church, about community, about family, about faith, about compassion and justice, about baptismal promises, about a passion for the gospel of Jesus Christ, that is not contained in this little collection of words, if only we can recognize. Risen Lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread.

As a child, I lived in a community of people. I am five of eight. There were most always people around, and the liveliest times of the day were our dinner meal. We would scrunch around our kitchen table, someone would have to sit on a stool at the counter, actually, the bread board, remember bread boards? in order to get us all in. I wonder if then I recognized the wonder in all that chaos. When my extended family would gather for holidays there were 23 of us grandchildren. We would enjoy a meal together, but not much quiet. Often many of us little ones would end up staying the night wherever we were, eating breakfast and lunch together the next day, and playing of course. I think the seeds of understanding Jesus’ real presence were planted in those gatherings.

In the summer of 2013, Rick and I, and Tom and Amanda, and Willie went on an incredible journey, and among many amazing things we did, we met some of our Norwegian relatives. They were as happy to meet us as we were to meet them. A cousin, Jan, took us to see the land on which our ancestors farmed. We were profoundly moved as we stood on that land, and felt the timeless connection to those who came before us, and those who will follow us. We recognized that connection, that story that joins us all together. At Jan's home, we ate a wonderful meal of Norwegian porridge, and pork, and cheese, and bread, of course. The next day we gathered with my cousins Kjell and MaryAnn, and had heart shaped waffles with cloudberries.

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

It makes so much sense, as we journey together through this life, that breaking bread together is the central activity for us, we come from farmers after all. The most radical activity that Jesus engaged in was to invite people to a meal. And everyone got that invitation. Not only were there religious leaders, there were tax collectors, there were women, single women at that, women who were protected by no one. At table Jesus taught about the kingdom of God. At table Jesus disrupted the social order. At table, Jesus nourished not only the body, but the spirit and the soul as well.

When we gather together at the communion table we come from home and work and school; we come from far away and down the street, we come and we tell our story, and we tell the story of God’s activity in our lives; we tell the story of creation, blessing, turning away, God loving us back into relationship, repentance, reconciliation and restoration. We tell the story of life, death, and resurrection. We tell the truth.

The story that we know and we tell, is about how God saved God's people from the flood waters, and God freed God's people from slavery in Egypt. God brought God's people out of exile back into their land and God came to live and die as one of us, Jesus is in our midst.

We read and we study and tell these stories. We listen and talk about what God did and continues to do in this world. We tell these stories to our children. And we do because they help us remember who we are. We remember who we are and we recognize one another and we are recognized in the breaking of the bread and the prayers. We give thanks for our blessings; we ask for healing for ourselves and others, we eat together.

That is what happened with the two in our story today, who were walking away from Jerusalem, dejected, alone, afraid. Wondering what it was all about, wondering how it all went so very wrong. And the one who told the story of Moses and all the prophets, who told them the story of Jesus, joined them. They invited him to stay, he did, they ate together, and they recognized him.

We recognize Jesus in the people with whom we gather to share and tell our stories, and the stories of our faith; we recognize Jesus in the breaking of the bread, we see Jesus in the hands, and in the eyes, and in the faces of the people who are at our table.

But we also recognize Jesus in the stranger, and the alien, and the immigrant. We see and hear Jesus in those who are out there, those who continue to live in isolation, in loneliness, in hurt, in this broken world. We recognize the freedom, the peace, the community that can be theirs as well.

Risen Lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread. But it's not just in the baking of the bread, or in the breaking of the bread, the bread broken for you and for me. Our wholeness comes from brokenness, our healing rises up out of broken hearts that are mended by God’s love. Humanity is made whole once more by the real presence of Jesus in our midst, in our lives, in our brokenness, the broken bread.

Risen Lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread. Help us to recognize you in word and sacrament, in story and in food, help us to see you in the midst of community. Help us to be agents of your new creation, standing on the ground that you have already won in your resurrection.

And yet, we sit in our homes today, having not broken bread together for weeks. And we ask the question, Risen Lord, when we are not breaking bread together, are you still present? We miss you so much. We miss communion and community so much. But Jesus' gift of love and life is as real now as ever. If we were never to have bread and wine together again, Jesus would continue in our midst, of that I am sure. My heart and soul yearn to break bread together, with all of you. But Jesus in our midst is not dependent on us. Jesus is really present with us, wherever we are, socially distant or socially proximate. Jesus is present in the bread we break around our tables at home. Jesus is present in the ways we break for others, in our time given, in our phone calls made, in the cards written, in the prayers offered. Soon we will gather again, but always remember that Jesus is with us even when we are absent, one from another.

5 Pentecost Yr C Proper 7 June 19 2016

5 Pentecost Yr C Proper 7 June 19 2016 Audio

Again we have a story that shows us, that gives us a clear image of what the new life, this good news that is Jesus, looks like in the world. Just as we have read in the last two weeks, about the women to whom Jesus gave new life by bringing them back into the community and restoring their honor, we read about this man. Jesus commanded the unclean spirit to come out of him, and it did. By doing this, Jesus restores this man to new life.

So this story is like the others, it is a story about restoration to the community of the one who is on the margins, a story of transformation. This time though, it is a man, whose dis-ease puts him on the outside, makes him uncles. Let’s take a closer look at this man who is presented to us in Luke’s gospel today, where he is and why he is important.

First, we learn that this story takes place in Gentile territory, already we are not at “home,” we are in the country of the Gerasenes, opposite Galilee. Another marker that we are not at home, that we are on the margins, is the large herd of swine feeding. According to Jewish dietary regulations, pigs are unclean, so we know we are not in Jewish territory. This man did not live in a house, but in the tombs, which are also unclean, and which also makes him homeless. He had no clothes on, and he was possessed by demons. The setting of this story, and the description of the man, alerts us so that we know this is a story that puts Jesus into a non-Jewish setting, it puts Jesus into a place to encounter someone who is just not like the others. This man did not have a chance in Jewish or Greek society. He was tossed out, he didn’t have a chance for any honor or status, he may as well have been dead. In this way he is not unlike the widows we’ve recently read about.

Jesus restores this man, Jesus transforms this man, Jesus brings this man into the community. This is a very clear picture of what the kingdom of God looks like in the life of this one man, and what it looks like in our lives as well. Because of this man’s encounter with Jesus, he is clothed, he is in his right mind, and he can go home. Because of this man’s encounter with Jesus, he is brought into the community; he is no longer cast off. Because of this man’s encounter with Jesus, he is made whole, he has new life, he is transformed.

This is a story about God’s abundant grace and God’s unfailing love that calls us into relationship, and transforms us. This is a story about when we encounter Jesus; we will never be the same.

This man didn’t seek Jesus out. Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem when he happened upon this man. But in the encounter, Jesus truly recognized this man, and knew he was not himself. Jesus brought him to himself. The truth of God’s love and grace and abundance called the real man forth, and that expelled all that was not real, all that was keeping this man a prisoner in his own body.

Our encounter with Jesus does the same. Sometimes we seek Jesus out; more often than not our encounters with Jesus are accidental, coincidental, or providential, depending on what you want to call it. But, when we do encounter Jesus, we can not be the same. We are clothed anew, our mind is set right, and we find our home.

When we are baptized we are often clothed in a white garment. For some, that garment is the same one many infants before us have also worn for the occasion, for others we get a new set of clothes just for the occasion. The language and symbolism of baptism evokes this. We enter the waters of baptism with Jesus, and are robed in our new garments.

In baptism we pray for each child, we ask for an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love God, and the gift of joy and wonder in all God’s works. I think that is a description of being in our right mind. We spend much effort in our lives to be right minded. We spend much time trying to be right, we have a need to convince others of our rightness. We even get angry and fearful when our rightness is threatened. When we encounter Jesus our mind is right. When we encounter Jesus we become clearheaded, we are filled with right thinking. Remember last week I described being made right, being justified, like justifying the margins on your page. That illustration still works in this story.

In baptism we find our home. Our home for now is the community of faith, the gathering of people who love and worship God, the assembly in which we share the reality of Jesus in the bread and the wine. Home is the people who patiently wait for us to realize that we are not alone in our faith journey. Home is where we can be fully alive, where we go to find ourselves. Home is where we find ourselves fully alive in Christ. Home is being in relationship with God and with one another.

The very hard part of encountering Jesus, is that we must open our eyes to living the transformed life that Jesus calls us to live. And the very hard part of living this transformed life that Jesus called the man with the demons into, and that Jesus calls us into, this life of being clothed in Jesus’ new clothes, being right-minded, and in coming home, is that our culture would have us believe a very different story. Transformation turns us away from ourselves, turns us away from being full of ourselves. Rather than looking out for ourselves, we look out for the other, we look out for our neighbor. We are in our right mind when we spend time in prayer, when we listen through prayer and scripture study, and when we listen to others to what God would call us to, to what God would have us do, to whom God would have us be. Rather than convincing others that we are right, that our way is right, we listen to other peoples stories, we encounter Jesus in the story telling, we are filled with the real presence of Christ.

This encounter with Jesus brings us home, when we are transformed we no longer turn away from God, but are bathed in the hospitality that Jesus offers. Home is the fullness of our relationship with God, and with our neighbors. Home is not acquiring stuff, home is not even the place we live. Home is living fully in the unfailing love of God, home is the abundant life God has for us. Home is being a wonderful and beautiful creature in God’s eye’s, no matter what, each and every one of us, not just some of us.

Like the man in our story today, who by his encounter with Jesus is restored and made whole, who is clothed in a new garment, who is right minded, who is brought home, God loves us abundantly and unfailingly so we too are clothed with a new garment, made whole, restored to fullness in God’s amazing kingdom. Today, we are invited to live the abundant life that God has for us.

So much of what we see in our culture in these days, people put out on the margins because of who they are, people killed because of who they are, call us to listen to this story and the stories that precede it with hearts of compassion. These stories show us what life in God's kingdom look like, what new life in Jesus look like. Everyone, everyone, has a place in God's kingdom, because love wins.

Thanks be to God. Amen, Alleluia.

Trinity Yr B May 31 2015

Trinity Yr B May 31 2015 Audio

If you remember back to ten reasons to do church, that I talked about last week, you'll remember that I began with eating. Much of our gathering together is around eating a meal, eating bread and drinking wine. In the book called People of the Way, Renewing Episcopal Identity, by Dwight Zscheile (Shylie), he writes

"Every Sunday at ordinary Episcopal churches, something extraordinary takes place. In a society in which tables of hospitality are mostly closed off to strangers, a public feast is held. You don't need to buy a ticket to this meal. Not everyone necessarily knows each other; not everyone gets along perfectly, but they come together nonetheless. The food is simple stuff - bread and wine - about to become something more than itself. As the story is told and songs are sung, a change takes place. Hearts are lifted. The brokenness in the lives of each of the participants, and the brokenness of the world, is brought into focus. Healing begins to pour through it. Lives turned inward are opened outward. In the midst of the messiness and richness of this meal is the presence of Jesus, felt and known through the Spirit, tasted in the bread and wine, inviting us and the whole of the world into community with God." (p.44)

This is exactly what we did on Friday, celebrating the life of Bette Hauk. So many people showed up, many more than expected, all were fed, both with Holy Communion, and with a delicious Loaves and Fishes lunch.

I think this description of what we do when we gather together has everything to do with Trinity, which we recognize today. I've told you before about the time when I was in high school at my regular Sunday evening youth group meeting. The young priest came to teach us all about the Trinity. I figured I'd have all my questions answered that night, but no, I left more confused than I was when I arrived. But it's really not that hard. Theologians and systematicians make it more confusing than it has to be. You know, in many churches that have multiple priests on staff, it's always the new guy that preaches on Trinity Sunday because no one else wants to. 

Trinity is not to be explained, but to be experienced. Trinity is a way of talking about the richness of God's communal life. Trinity is community with God, it is relationship. It is God's nature to create others to share in God's life. As followers of Jesus in the first few centuries sought to make sense out of the relationship among the Jesus they had known as Lord, the Spirit they experienced in community, and the God of Israel to whom the scriptures gave witness, they developed the doctrine of the Trinity.

The reading we have before us today from Isaiah shows us the God who is creator of all, of all that is seen and unseen, holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts. And from Romans we see the Spirit that bears witness that we are all children of God. In John, we see Jesus, who comes into this world and lives and loves and suffers and dies and absorbs all the pain and suffering and violence on the cross. Jesus speaks to Nicodemus about what new life is all about. This is Trinity. It is how God presents Godself, it is how we humans imagine God in relationship. It is a model of how we may live this life in community with others on the way.

I bind unto myself today, the strong name of the trinity, by invocation of the same, the three in one and one in three. Creative, compassionate, merciful. Father, son, spirit. Mother, daughter, servant. Composer, musicians, music. Author, story, reader. Swimmer, water, breath. Steam, liquid, ice. Light, wave, particle. 

Essentially, the Trinity says what our sacred text says at its opening creation story: that it is not good for humans — or God for that matter — to be alone; that meaning is created in community and through relationships; that we do better as creatures when we join hands rather than raise fists. Trinity is God experienced in community, Trinity is God's abundant and amazing love spilling out creatively as it includes all of God's creation. Trinity is much less a doctrine, and much more a dance. A dance in which everyone participates.

So what does Trinity mean for us today? So many people believe the story that dominates American life today, you indeed may be one of them. That you are what you earn or achieve, that identity must be cobbled together from a wide array of shifting possibilities, that you must work incessantly at securing meaning and community because these things are not given. Amidst competition, consumerism, anxiety, and opportunity, life is what you make of it, largely on your own. Underneath these swirling waters of struggle lay the deep currents of isolation, fragmentation, and despair. 

The story that we tell, the truth that we tell, is one in which every human life is precious beyond measure, created for loving relationship with the source of all life. In this story, your worth is given, not earned. You are welcomed into a community in which no one goes hungry, differences need not be a cause of division, but a gift to be celebrated, you are offered forgiveness and are released to forgive others. You are claimed by a love and power beyond your own. You are held in arms of grace, you are part of a community in which Love wins. And in that, you are freed to participate in the restoration of human community and all creation.

Trinity calls us to wholeness, to relationship, to community. Trinity calls us away from isolation, and frees us to call each other neighbor. Our response to that is to participate in what God is already doing in the world. If our God is a God of relationship, of community, of co-creativity, maybe that's what our mission is in the world. Maybe participating in what God is already doing in the world is about building bridges, reaching out, inviting others into the Love that wins, the love that embraces every one no matter what. 

Maybe participating in what God is already doing is about accompanying people, walking with people who are hurting, and offering partnership in that. It isn't always about relieving suffering, sometimes it is walking the path with others, like Jesus does. Maybe participating in what God is already doing is about responding to those who would crucify us, with love and not revenge, therefore absorbing hate like Jesus does, instead of inflaming hate. Maybe participating in what God is already doing is showing that Love wins, like Jesus does, instead of spewing words of judgement. 

Trinity, Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer, is about participating in a web of relationship, eating with a community of people, dancing with others to the music of the seraphim. It is proclaiming with Isaiah, Here I am, send me! It is proclaiming with Jesus, Love wins. Amen.

Trinity June 15 2014

Audio 6.15.2014

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. In the name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer; Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver. These are all ways for us to imagine Trinity. These words are attributed to St. Patrick, who in the face of the forces of darkness bound himself to the trinity. “I bind unto myself the Name, the strong name of the trinity; by invocation of the same, the three in one, and one in three, of whom all nature hath creation; eternal father, spirit, word; praise to the lord of my salvation, salvation is of Christ the Lord.” We may struggle to understand the doctrine of the trinity, but there is no struggle in the experience of the relationship of God, Jesus and spirit.

It is this relationship, this community, that our images try to convey and our words try to describe. The story of creation sets the stage. Humanity is created by God, and created in God’s image, the reflection of love and wholeness, which God does intend for creation. In God’s own image God created humankind, God’s own image includes amazing diversity. Human beings are the expression of God’s fullness, of God’s love, of God’s wholeness. And God’s creation is about the interrelatedness of all the created order: every living creature, all of the animals, the waters and the land, the stars in the sky, the planets in their courses.

Trinity is about this relationship in and through and among the created order. Trinity is the real world in which we live, the real world of God’s love for humanity, for God’s deepest desire to not be alone and outside of creation, but to be in, among, and through creation. The reality of God’s deepest desire to love humanity is incarnated, is in the flesh, in Jesus. Jesus, who lived, loved, suffered and died. Jesus, in whom God began the new creation on that first Easter morning. Jesus who was raised from the dead and who ascended to take his place with God. And who is present with creation, with us, as Holy Spirit, present in the water, the flame and the oil of baptism, present in the bread and the wine, present in the coming together at this table in this place, and present in the sending out into the world to do justice, to appreciate beauty, and to be about the mission of bringing God's love into the world.

Trinity is about a reality of community over against individualism. Trinity encourages participation and welcomes diversity. Community, participation, and diversity look a lot like the church we strive to be. Each person is interdependent with the others, there is no room for any one to be self-aggrandizing and in the system each person empties oneself to be filled by the others, just as Jesus emptied himself to the love of humanity. Participation by all is essential to the matrix; the entity, the body of christ cannot live without the participation of each of the parts. Diversity presupposes inclusion, and inclusion is the acceptance of others. We join together, while honoring the diversity among the many, in a unity that does not seek uniformity.

But, Trinity is not a thing to be studied, it is a reality to be lived. 

Like resurrection, trinity bears itself out in a sort of natural circle; Caterpillar - cocoon - butterfly; 

Mother - daughter - wife; 

wheel - spoke - hub; 

Doctor Who - TARDIS - ?

composer - musician - music;

Three in one and one in three.

Jesus had taught the disciples to pray that God’s kingdom would come on earth as in heaven, and at the end of Matthew’s gospel, Jesus claims the authority that has been given to him, to send the disciples to go and make that happen; to work as agents of that authority that has been granted as a result of the resurrection and in the name of the father, the son, and the Holy Spirit. Claiming the authority of the trinity to baptize, the disciples, and that includes you and me, are to make disciples of all nations. What would the world look like if we really claimed the authority of the Trinity?

NT Wright, the author of a book called, Surprised by Hope, describes the world that takes Jesus’ resurrection seriously and that baptizes in the name of the father and the son and the holy spirit as a world of justice, beauty, and evangelism, another trinity, a Trinity of mission.

Justice is the first aspect of NT Wright's trinity of mission. It is God’s intention, as expressed from Genesis to Revelation, to set the whole world right. A plan gloriously fulfilled in Jesus Christ, supremely in Jesus’ resurrection, and now to be implemented in the world. What this means is that since Jesus has already begun the new creation in the resurrection, that you and I are part of the solution, we are part of the web that can speak about and make real what Jesus pointed us to, that the lowly are to be lifted up, the mighty brought down, that all are to included at the table.

Beauty is the second aspect of NT Wright’s trinity of mission. I find this refreshing and fascinating. I think being created in God’s image means that we are ourselves creators, and to make sense of and celebrate a beautiful world through music and art is part of the call to be stewards of creation. I have been thinking a lot about this recently, and being an educator first and foremost, I began to realize why I think an argument about public education that does not include arts, music, and physical education is lacking. Our lives are lessened; our lives become distorted, when we do not reflect the entirety of God’s image of beauty. The reality is that the wholeness of God’s image is in both beauty and woundedness, and when we come to terms with both we may be on our way to doing the new thing that discipleship calls us to do.

Lastly, NT Wright’s trinity of mission is evangelism. Not the frightening and bullying harangues or tactless and offensive behavior of some, or embarrassing and naïve presentations of the gospel. Evangelism is the powerful announcement that God is God, that Jesus is lord, that the powers of evil have been defeated, that Love wins and that God’s new world has begun. What this means is that we allow our lives to be reshaped by God, knowing that it is painful at times, but that it is the way to genuine human life in the present, and a glorious resurrection in the future.

I bind unto myself this day, the strong name of the trinity. I bind unto myself this day, the strong name of the trinity; by invocation of the same, the three in one, and one in three, of whom all nature hath creation; eternal father, spirit, word; praise to the lord of my salvation, salvation is of Christ the Lord.

5th Sunday after the Epiphany Yr A Feb 9 2014

Audio 2.9.2014

You are the light of the world. You are the light that shines in the darkness. This is an amazing declaration. Not only is God in our midst, God in the flesh, the light in the world, but that light, God in the flesh, God in our midst, is in us, shines through us, and as we bear that light into the world, darkness cannot overcome. That's not nothing, that's something. God's love, the love that wins, gets communicated to the world through you. Martin Luther King Jr. said "Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."  And, something more, you are the light of the world, that is who you are, you are a child of God. This is not about what you must do, it is about who you are, you can't help but be the light and drive out darkness.

Well, with that Good News, how does the love of God get communicated in the world through you? You are commissioned to be God's light in the world. As I use communicate in this context, I mean the fullness of that word, not just words. Some of the synonyms of communicate are connect, interface, make known, network, and relate. For me the ultimate meaning of communicate is in communion, "be known to us Lord Jesus, in the breaking of the bread." God's love gets communicated in the world through you and the light that you bear. What does that look like?

These words lead me to picture God's communication through you as a light in the world like a web of relationship. You shine in your workplace, and God is present. You shine in your school, and God is present. You light up the darkness, and God's love is communicated. But that seems all rather ethereal, right? What does it really look like? 

The theme of light shining in the darkness is a universal human theme, we all know that from scripture, from Genesis and from John and from Isaiah. And we may get some direction from popular culture. The epic stories of our time show us how light shines in the darkness, and the best of those show us how that light is multiplied in community. 

In Madeleine L'engle's book, A Wrinkle in Time, our main characters travel through a wrinkle in time to the dark planet of Camazotz which is entirely dominated by the Black Thing. The father of our main character, Meg, is trapped on this planet, after a time Meg is able to free her father, but only after finding her own strengths, her own giftedness, her own light, and engaging in the web of relationship that is community. In the Harry Potter stories, the power of light in the darkness is a dominant theme. Dumbledore even says, “Dark times lie ahead of us and there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right.” And then he goes on to say, “Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light." Again, the light in these stories is found in the web of relationships among Harry and his friends. I could go on and on and bore you completely with these references, stories I hold dear, but instead I'd love to hear about your own understanding of the light shining in the darkness in the places you go for meaning.

The question is, what does it look like for you to be God's light in the world? What does it look like for your light to be the only light shining, what does it look like for your light to join with and be joined with others to create a brighter light? Again, it is not what we do, but who we are, God's beloved, that shines. But for others to see the light, sometimes it is what we do. So many of you are lights in the world. Your light shines when you give a compassionate word at work, your light shines when you give an encouraging word at the check out counter at the store, your light shines when you shovel your neighbors walk. These light shining moments are so important. And your light, your voice matters in a world that has seems to have left compassion and justice behind. You are indeed, a light in the building of the kingdom. But what about when we join our lights in the web of relationship, when we join our lights in a community of light? 

When we do that, when lights shine on the darkness of the injustice of racism, when lights shine on the darkness of the disregard for human dignity, when lights shine on the darkness of the lack of access to education, we begin to see the building of God's kingdom. During this month that is designated Black History, we are reminded of the witness of this kind of light, in the persons and the web of community of the people who sat on buses and wouldn't give up their seats; the people who sat at lunch counters and endured the indignity of insults and attacks; the people who knocked on doors to register others to vote; the people who worked day in and day out at their jobs, so they might provide education for their children.

And why is being God's light in the world so important? It important because God's love is what brings us back together, puts the fragments of our lives back together. It is God's love, borne by your light, that can bring healing and wholeness to our broken world. Indeed, it is God's mission to heal our world, and it is our mission to be a part of that healing. 

At our annual meeting we proposed an idea that arose out of the conversations on scripture during the Sunday morning adult formation time between services. Again, I invite you to come and be a part of that. Explicitly or implicitly we ask the questions, What is Jesus saying to you in the Gospel? What is Jesus calling you to do? And it seems one answer that is appearing is about a Community Garden, right here in our yard. And because we believe that it is in the web of relationship that our lights shine bright, we have made some phone calls and made some contacts with West Middle School and Stevens High School, and they are thrilled to partner with us in this project. The purpose of this community garden is to foster community involvement, to feed the hungry and to involve our neighbors on a variety of levels. The goals of our community garden are  to actually grow something, to engage the neighborhood, and to be thoughtful stewards of God’s abundance. We will also invite our neighbors, our physical neighbors, those across and down the street from us.

You know that there are a couple families that we regularly help with food and gas and spiritual support. Friday, as I was talking to one of the moms about this idea and asked her to be a part of it, she offered to get some tomato and pepper plants for us, and some seeds. I believe we are headed in the direction of shining our lights in our neighborhood. I believe we already are part of the web that brings God's healing and wholeness into the world. Amen.  Audio 2.9.2014

11 Pentecost Yr B

The people of the world have been planting the seed, growing the grain, harvesting the grain, grinding the grain, making the flour, adding the yeast, letting the dough rise, punching it down to rise again, forming the loaves, laying the fire, and baking the bread, for as long as stories have been told around those fires.

Every ethnicity has a bread that arose from its particular place, the particular grain grown in its region, baked in the fire. From Mexico there are corn and flour tortillas, from the Middle East there is pita, from Italy there is foccacia, from Scandinavia there is flatbread and lefse. In all of these places people gather and break bread together. Breaking bread together is a powerful symbol of our commonality, our humanity, our unity.

Breaking bread together is one way we experience the presence of Jesus Christ in our midst. We gather here at this table and share a loaf of bread; we share a cup of wine. And something in us changes. We are transformed into the new creation that Jesus promises for us by eating this bread and drinking this wine, we are transformed into the beloved community. I think in this particular case, you are what you eat.

My earliest memory of communion was my first communion, probably when I was around six. I remember kneeling at the altar rail in my white dress and my white veil. I was a little scared, and I remembered that the nuns had told me to look straight ahead, it wasn’t polite to look around, and that I must not chew the host, that would be like crunching on Jesus bones.

As I got older, I attended the mass that was held in the church basement, it was the guitar mass of the liturgical emergence of the sixties and the seventies. It was there that I began to really experience community, I worshipped with those people every Sunday morning, I sang and played my flute in the music group. Our surroundings were part gymnasium, part cafeteria, by no means beautiful, and it is there where I knew I was part of the body of Christ. It was there where I learned that you know we are Christians by our love, it is there that mystical body of Christ became real to me in the breaking of the bread. I knew those people who gathered together, and they knew me. They knew the family I belonged to; they knew my brothers and sisters.

I have spoken about my years as a volunteer on the staff of the Minneapolis Catholic youth center. Whenever we gathered together for retreats, for trainings, for community time as we called it, we celebrated Holy Communion together. We sat on the floor around the altar, we sang together, we stood around the altar and held hands during the Lord’s Prayer, and we fed one another around our circle. We prayed for one another’s concerns, for the families that we were growing up in and leaving to make life on our own. We were nourished to go out and do the work we were called to do.

When Rick and I were married, we began our life together with communion. Our families and our friends gathered together in the rectory, we sat together in the living room in front of the fire, and we read the sacred stories and prayed together, and by then it was actual bread that we broke together. In that bread and in that place, in the power of the life that bread gives, we pledged to live our lives together for all time, no matter what. So far….. so good.

In our home church, St. Luke’s in Minneapolis, we had Tom and Willie, they were baptized in the midst of the community of faith that nurtured us, that held us up, and to which we contributed our time and talent as Sunday school teachers, Rick as a vestry member, and me as the Christian Education coordinator. The bread and the wine were central to what we did together. Our loaf of bread was delicious, it came from a local bakery, there were always leftovers, and the children clamored to get the leftovers from the deacon after we were sent out to do the work we were called to do. It was there that we really experienced what Jesus’ companions on the road to Emmaus said, “Risen lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread.”

The bread and the wine that we share together are bread and wine and so much more. We gather together here in this place, we look each other in the eyes, especially in this wonderful sanctuary where we can really see one another, and Christ is made real to us. Christ is in us and through us around us and over us. We sing together the beautiful hymns of our tradition, and we sing together songs that are new to us, and Christ is made real. We pray the beautiful words of our tradition, and we pray the words that are on our heart alone, and Christ is made real. We share one bread, one cup, bread baked by the loving hands of our brother Ray Bulllinger, and Christ is made real. We are sent out into the world to do the work that God gives us to do, and Christ is made real.

You satisfy the hungry heart, with gift of finest wheat. Come, give to us O saving Lord, the bread of life to eat.

In John’s gospel, 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 eternal life, all contained in this loaf of bread.

We are changed by the ordinary bread, into an extraordinary community. Through the practice of Eucharist, through the practice of Thanksgiving, through the practice of eating together around the table, we become the community God desires for us to be, filled with the Spirit, singing and making melody to the Lord and giving thanks at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus.

What was comfort food becomes radical presence. And we are filled with God’s soul food, rather than the fast food that only satisfies us briefly. We are filled with God’s radical presence in Jesus, and we are sent out into the world to practice God’s wisdom, we are sent into the world to show forth the Good News, we are sent into the world to live intentionally, sacramentally, as agents of resurrection and reconciliation. We are sent into the world to bear the good news, Love wins.

Amen

3 Epiphany Yr C

I remember the days when we had one telephone line in our house; maybe we had two telephones, one on the kitchen wall and one in my parents’ room. I also remember being yelled at to get off the phone, because my dad, being a self-employed block layer and cement man as we called him, depended on receiving phone calls at home regarding work. I didn’t really spend that much time on the phone myself, but there were eight of us, I imagine it was hard for dad to get his calls.

I would watch my kids, talking to two and three friends at a time while listening to music and allegedly doing homework while sitting at the computer. If I need to make or receive a phone call I can do it from my cell phone, or even from the landline that gets very little use. From our computer we can keep in touch with friends that have been dispersed all over the country and all over the globe. Away from the computer we can facebook from our blackberry’s and iphones. Doctors can take pictures of our insides and send them anywhere instantly for another doctor to take a look at on their computer screen, and tell us what’s up almost instantly. It’s an amazing world. It is a world I lament and a world I rejoice in all at the same time.

When the words of I Corinthians were written, could anyone have imagined this world we live in today? In 200, and 2000 years, will anyone be able to imagine the world we live in today? Just the other day, there was a group of us meeting, and we were talking about language, and how the meaning of words we have taken for granted has changed, because the experience of people today has changed. Some of the words we talked about are community and body of Christ. How do you talk about these things in this world when community can as easily mean a group of people gathered together in a church to rehearse the story of salvation, as a group of people logged into virtual church in second life, miles or even countries away from each other connecting the dots of their own stories?

For some time I have lamented what I have perceived to be the lack of community and connection between people because of the internet and all it offers, good and bad. I have decided no longer to lament but to rejoice in the ability of people to connect not only face to face, but keyboard to keyboard. I am able to keep in touch with classmates by e-mail and facebook, and when we meet face to face it is as if we have never been apart.

I know all of this has not diminished, but in fact expanded how I understand community, how I understand the body of Christ. We are all connected, maybe even now more than ever. What we do here in Rapid City matters to people as far away as Haiti. Maybe if Paul were writing today he would use a metaphor like the one that James Cameron uses in the new movie Avatar. Maybe you’ve heard of it; maybe you’ve seen it. Avatar is a story about the “outsider” coming into a world of “insiders,” becoming one of the “insiders,” and saving them from destruction. The people are hunters and gatherers, and have a great spirituality of connection with the planet, the animals, and the plant life. Each can literally connect with creation through appendages from their heads. They can connect to their ancestors, they can connect to the beasts they ride, and they can even connect to their Creator. Our main character gets separated from his team and taken in by the indigenous people on the planet Pandora, and eventually learns to become one. Through the process, he learns to love them and become one in more than just his appearance. They accept him as one of them until he must go on his own journey of self-exploration to fight for the people and culture he loves. By becoming one of them, he ends up saving them.

There’s another story with the same archetypes, one that we Christians know pretty well. One about a true outsider who comes to our world, becoming like us in order to save us. We know this as the Incarnation. God, in the form of human flesh in Jesus Christ, becomes one of us, in order for us to be connected to God in a way we have never experienced before. Avatar’s story is one of incarnation, one of love for God’s creation, one of transformation in order to understand.

Many would say that the Messianic archetype stretches far beyond the story in which Christians have placed their faith. It’s a story that has been told in many religions pre-dating Christianity. But that’s what makes the story so good. It’s a story that will never end. Humanity will always need its saviors. Movies like Avatar create fantastic parables to help us understand the world around us. That we are in need of something greater than ourselves and how blessed we are to have a God who loves us so much that God wants to become one of us. Avatar may not be a factual story, but it is a true story. The people are connected as a web, to each other, and to the entire environment around them. Much like the body that Paul describes.

Jesus embodies, enfleshes, incarnates, and proclaims God’s love in ways that make a difference for the lives of others. This is what we mean by body of Christ. Transformation is something that doesn’t happen to us like magic, transformation is something that is effected by our participation in the body of Christ, the community of faith, by proclaiming and making a difference for the lives of others on Jesus’ behalf.

And transformation doesn’t happen unless all of the parts of the body participate; all of the parts of the body, even the stinky feet. We tend to place limitations on parts of the body. We tend to think that participation in the body has to be on our terms, and by that I mean on the terms of those of us who are already here, who already claim the salvation of Jesus, but the truth is that there so many who could contribute so much to the body of Christ but don’t, because we look at them like they are stinky feet. These are people who find community through the internet, through texting, and at coffee shops. These are also people like you and me who refuse community because it doesn’t meet their needs. Community is not meant to meet our needs, community is meant to meet the others needs.

But, the body of Christ is not complete, it only limps along when we are all not present, and I mean present in the relationship sense of the word. I can be present with someone even when I am not physically in the same room with me.

We are transformed by the telling of the story, the telling of the story of God’s creation and blessing, of God coming into our world as one of us to show us the way. We tell this story and we hear this story and it becomes our story. It becomes part of us and we become part of it and it makes us different, it transforms us into the people God intends us to be. And God intends us to be people who love and serve one another. Not only do we tell the story of God’s activity in the lives of God’s people when we gather together in whatever way we gather together, we also need to tell our own stories of God’s activity in our own lives. It is when all of us, all parts of the body, contribute our own stories that the body can be complete.

The challenge to us right now is how we build up the body of Christ in this world without walls, in this world without limits it seems, in this world where community no longer necessarily means the gathered people. How do we show forth God’s love and wholeness in the body of Christ, in a broken and fragmented world? How do we invite people into this web of relationship with one another and with God?

We do it by showing God’s love in the world, by being God’s love in the world. We are God’s face, and what we do and what we say matters to the web, to the body of Christ. Let us be the embodiment of Jesus in this world; let us manifest God’s love in ways that make a difference for the lives of other. Let us make visible God’s justice in every part of our lives, in our work, in our schools, and in all our conversations. And let us invite others into the work that God is blessing here at St. Andrew’s.

The Lord has shown forth his glory: Come let us adore him.