Showing posts with label mission. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mission. Show all posts

Saturday, January 14, 2023

2 Epiphany Yr A January 15, 2023




2 Epiphany Yr A January 15, 2023

Isaiah 49:1-7, 1 Corinthians 1:1-9, John 1:29-42, Psalm 40:1-12

 

Come and spend the day with me, Jesus says to Andrew and his friend. Come and see where I am staying, come and see who I am. Come and spend the day with me. Jesus is the one they were waiting for; Jesus is the one they believed the stories they told were all about. Jesus, the Lamb of God, Jesus, the Son of God, Jesus, the one to whom John points. And Jesus says, come and spend the day with me.

 

You know, the meaning of words change over time. For example, hospital was a once a place for the reception and entertainment of travelers and pilgrims, from the Latin, "hospitality." Another, if you invested in someone, you clothed them, from the Latin "to clothe." So, investment once meant "putting clothes on" which were vestments. The place I am going with this is the place we seem to be today with the word "evangelism," a word Episcopalians have had a hard time with for a while now. Even hearing the word strikes fear in the heart of any native Episcopalian, and even those of us who have come later in life to the light. We think of soap box yellers, we cringe at the thought of the question, "Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your lord and savior?" We are polite people and know that this does not make for good dinner table or cocktail party conversation. Besides, what can stop conversation faster than, "Do you know where you're going when you die?" Or the one I like the very best, "Have you found Jesus?" I am always tempted to answer with, "I didn't know Jesus was lost!" Or "yes, he's been behind the couch the whole time!" The point is, that the word evangelist means "bringer of good news," therefore evangelism is to "bring good news."

 

Come and spend the day with me and I will bring you good news. Not such a bad way to evangelize, is it? Today I would like us to take back evangelism, to not be afraid of the word or of the activity. Today I would like us to respond to Jesus' invitation to spend the day, and listen to who Jesus calls us to be, and how Jesus calls us to be evangelists, how Jesus calls us to bring good news.

 

Another related word that elicits fear in many Episcopalians these days is mission. Historically mission has been related to the violent act of colonizing a people with the result that those people look and act and talk like the dominant culture. Our church, and others, have been guilty of this kind of mission in our history. And yet that is not what mission is all about. Mission is about building bridges and forming relationships and partnerships that may result in mutual growth and learning and compassion and healing.

 

Come and spend the day with me, and I will teach you about the good news, I will teach you about forgiveness and reconciliation, and you can bring that into the world and show others how to follow me. We claim to be followers of Jesus. Our baptismal identity is grounded in that claim. We reiterate that claim when we renew our baptismal promises, and we live out that claim every time we gather together to break bread. In the story we hear today, Andrew brings the good news to his brother and his friends, and together they follow Jesus.

 

Evangelism and mission are nothing more, and nothing less, than the invitation to come and spend the day with Jesus; to notice the amazing creation, to see where God is in your life, and to invite those you encounter into the Love, Freedom, and Truth that Jesus is. As with anything and everything, this takes practice. And it takes practice to tell your story. God is at work, and we need to practice noticing that and describing that. So, the first part of evangelism is to notice what God is up to.

 

The second part of evangelism is to share what is important about your faith or your church. Why do you come here to Trinity every Sunday? Why do you seek Jesus? Is it because here you can be your broken, messy, confident, joyful, self in front of God and the rest of us? Is it because you are not perfect, but you want to find out what it is to be perfectly loved? Is it because you miss the mark, just like the rest of us, and in some way, you know the freedom of forgiveness? Is it because you always have come here? Is it because you have been wounded elsewhere, and here you find peace and acceptance? Is it because you have a place here, you belong here? Is it because you help with GIFTS, or you deliver meals, or you give food and clothes to those who have none, and on some level, you bring Jesus' incarnation to people who just need to eat?

 

The third part of evangelism is the inviting, and sometimes we think the hardest part is the inviting. Like Andrew, who goes to get his brother, we too can invite those we work with, those we go to school with, those who we see in pain, to come and see. It may seem hard, but you invite people all the time, you invite them to your home, or to a movie, or to the concert, or to take a walk with you. It's no different. Come and see what God is doing. Come and see what God is doing at Trinity. Come and see the Love that wins. Come and see how your life matters. Come and see the good news of Jesus in the word and music, in the bread and the wine, in prayer and silence, in who we are and what we do. Jesus says, come and spend the day with me. Come, and see who I am. Come and find healing, forgiveness, and love. Come.

 

And then go. Follow Jesus out into the world. Bring the Good News into your families and your work, bring the Good News into the marketplace and the community. Bring the Good News of God's healing love. Our voice matters. Our actions matter. We are the people who can make a difference. We are the people who know the true freedom of God's love. We are the people who know that no matter what we've done, how broken we truly are, that God loves us anyway. Preach this Good News with your life and your love. Proclaim this Good News with your heart and your soul. We are all related in God, show with your life the ways God's love is in the world. Amen.

Monday, January 24, 2022

Third Sunday after Epiphany Jan 23 2022






Third Sunday after Epiphany Jan 23 2022

Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10, 1 Corinthians 12:12-31a, Luke 4:14-21, Psalm 19

 

After having just spent forty days in the wilderness, on the heels of his own baptism, Jesus returns to his hometown of Galilee in Nazareth. He attends his neighborhood synagogue. Here everyone watched him grow up and knows his family well. As an honored guest who is already gathering a reputation as a great teacher, Jesus is invited to read the Scriptures and to offer an interpretation. Jesus stands up and reads from the scroll of Isaiah the prophet, and says to the people, today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing. No wonder they want to hurl him off a cliff, we’ll read all about that next week. 

 

We have read through the first three chapters of Luke during advent and Christmas, and today we turn to the fourth chapter of Luke. So let’s just take a moment to remind ourselves of where we have been. Jesus was born in a place no king would ever be caught, in stables out behind a nondescript house. The announcement was made to people who would never be invited to the palace, the shepherds. The mother was a young girl, too young really, who ran to her elderly cousin, who recognizes just who it is that Mary carries within her. Jesus was anointed by the Spirit and baptized in the river, and immediately finds himself in the wilderness being tempted by the devil. 

 

The story really is all wrong, isn’t it? The Messiah, the savior of the world, should be born to a Queen, in a beautiful palace, attended by servants day and night, raised to be King. But that is not the story. The stage is set when we hear Mary’s song, My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. Mary knows who Jesus is, Elizabeth knows who Jesus is, and even before that, Hannah knows who Jesus is, and in this story we have before us today, Jesus knows who Jesus is. And the powers and principalities have spent the last 2022 years trying to deny it. 

 

Last week we read the story about the wedding at Cana, in which Jesus, pushed into it by his mother, turned water into wine. In John’s gospel, that was the inauguration of Jesus’ ministry, the first of the signs, and the demonstration that Jesus’ ministry is grace upon grace. 

 

This story is the inauguration of Jesus’ ministry in Luke, and that ministry is a direct result of all that came before it. And that is important. Right here, at the beginning of his ministry, Jesus tells us clearly what his mission is about. Jesus boldly claims to fulfill the words of Isaiah, who speaks of the Spirit anointing him, sending him, compelling him to bring good news to every one of God’s children who is bound up, pressed down, broken in spirit, impoverished, imprisoned, and desperately hungry for good news. 

 

Wow, again, no wonder they wanted to hurl Jesus off the cliff, anyone who fears the loss of their privileged position might want to. But do you hear this? This good news is for every one of God’s children. So often people mistakenly believe that this, what we do here in church and the proclamation of the good news is for the already put back together people, or for the better not show anyone I’m falling apart people, or the look at me I’m perfect people. But that’s not what this says. Given Jesus’ rather questionable background and the circumstances of his birth, the people who came to visit when he was born, his association with the devil in the wilderness, and especially his mother’s song about what’s going on, it’s pretty clear that Jesus is here for me, and you, for all of us who are bound up, pressed down, broken, and desperately hungry for good news.

 

We could sure use some good news. Your worth is not dependent on your status, or your earning power, or the degree to which you have your act together, or your gender, or your grades, or your attraction to others, or how hard you work. The good news, as Jesus proclaims in his hometown synagogue, is that you are released from all that binds you.

 

And then we take the next step. Because there is an implicit invitation that we are to be part of God’s fulfillment of God’s promises. Today. Tomorrow. And the next day. What we do in response to God’s promise, in response to Jesus’ invitation to be a part of healing and reconciliation, matters. Even when the problems seem so big, so insurmountable. We can make a difference. Even small things matter. 

 

Many of you know of Howard Thurman’s wonderfully challenging and equally empowering poem “The Work of Christmas”. And, a month beyond our celebration of Jesus’ birth, as we continue in this season to understand the implications of God’s invasion of humanity through the Word made flesh, the 3rd Sunday after the Epiphany seems like just the right time to hear it again. Thurman’s poem, definitely challenging, as it calls us to something that, if taken seriously, is daunting. But it is simultaneously empowering, calling us to something worthwhile and simultaneously also giving us the confidence that we can do it. Which is the way, when you think about it, the Gospel pretty much always works. It’s exactly what Jesus is doing as he inaugurates his own ministry. These words invite us to see God at work in Jesus and through us today. Each day. Every day. For good. Because it matters.

 

“The Work of Christmas” by Howard Thurman

When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the people,
to make music in the heart.

Amen.

Second Sunday after the Epiphany Yr C Jan 16 2022




Second Sunday after the Epiphany Yr C Jan 16 2022

Isaiah 62:1-5, 1 Corinthians 12:1-11, John 2:1-11, Psalm 36:5-10

 

I want you parents, or grandparents, to think back to the day you sent your babies off to school. They had their brand-new backpacks stuffed with everything they needed for the day. You checked the list, you made sure. You put them on the bus, or you sent them out the door to walk to school like I did, not without a little trepidation, anxiousness, and excitement. And you said to them, “you can do it! You’re going to have a great day! I love you.” We do all we can to make sure that they know we trust them, we have confidence in them, and this is the beginning of a new part of their lives. 

 

Now imagine that’s what is happening in this story. This is the first time Jesus is out there, the very beginning of the work he is called to do, and his mother is there saying to him, “go on, I know you can do this.” She sees something in her son, and it takes her initiative to move Jesus into his ministry. She trusts him and knows this is a new part of his life. 

 

Running out of wine at weddings, and in ancient Palestine weddings went on for a week, is a major hospitality blunder. And with all that trust in him, Jesus’ mother approaches him to tell him the hosts ran out of wine. What did she see in that moment, what had she seen in her life with him thus far, what had Jesus revealed to her that would cause her to believe such a miracle was possible? How did she know that this was the time for revelation? Clearly this was a time when Mary knew. We can’t look past the humor in this story as well. His response to her, “well mom, that’s not my problem, they should have hired a better wedding planner,” or words to that effect. 

 

What is happening in this story that follows closely after John’s beginning, the Word became flesh, the light shines, and the identification of Jesus as the Lamb of God, is this: God is revealing God’s whole self, God becoming flesh, the fullness of God into humanity. And when God gets revealed, sometimes we hear joy, delight, surprise. What you see is not always what you get. The full glory of God continues to be revealed. And we might ask, what is God going to do next?

 

So what does this story show to us about this first sign in John’s gospel? John doesn’t call these miracles, very intentionally they are signs that John uses to point us to something about Jesus, a critical revelation of Jesus. There are seven of them, this, the Wedding at Cana, Healing of the Official’s Son, Healing of a Man Ill for Thirty-eight Years, Feeding of the Five Thousand, Walking on Water, Healing of the Man Blind from Birth, and Raising of Lazarus. Numbers 2-6 are followed by a dialogue in which observers try to make sense of what happened and ending with Jesus’ own interpretation of the sign. However, this first sign, and the Raising of Lazarus are just a bit different. Instead of waiting until after the sign, Jesus talks to them before the sign happens, so that they will not misconstrue the meaning. 

 

So for this sign, Jesus’ mother calling Jesus to change water into wine, John has already told us about the importance of grace, and shows us grace upon grace. This is a miracle of abundance, and it signals resurrection, and new and abundant life. And in the gospel of John, grace upon grace, abundance, new life, is about abiding in the relationship that bears fruit. Jesus’ mother abides with Jesus, witnessing Jesus’ life and death, and we are to do the same. 

 

Also, as the mother of Jesus calls out to Jesus to do something about this breach of hospitality, she pushes Jesus out into public, into his public ministry. In so doing, she pushes him out into the course of events that will end in Jesus’ crucifixion. Imagine what that costs her. We see the pain of parenting right here. She could have kept him at home, wrapped him in bubble wrap and denied a hostile world. But she didn’t. Her heart would break over and over again, and now we see the cost of following Jesus, right here. Following Jesus is filled with joy, grace, abundance, pain, heartache… these are the risks of love, this is the cost of love. Love in the flesh. Relationship is revealed in the flesh, lived out in the flesh. The next time we see Jesus’ mother in John’s gospel is at the foot of the cross. 

 

This is the kind of God we have. Once God starts doing something wonderful, God doesn’t know when to stop. Providing enough wine not for just one toast, but enough to fill six thirty-gallon jars. Enough wine to get everybody in serious trouble. In Mark the first thing Jesus does is to cast out a demon, something rather useful. But here in John, there is nothing useful about this. It is purely and simply grace, joy, and abundance. And this abundance is available to everyone, and it just keeps on getting better. That’s what John has to show us, each story shows God’s grace available to all, each story shows us God’s love and joy, available to all, and that continues on.

 

Tomorrow we turn to the celebration of Martin Luther King Jr., a faithful witness who points us to the arc of God’s kingdom. Dr. King believed that the justice, equality and freedom of the kingdom was yet to come when he said, “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”

 

You see, John’s gospel shows us that God’s grace just keeps going, and with Jesus, the best is yet to come. God’s kingdom would become real when God’s people participate with Jesus and do their part. For the justice of God comes when God’s people notice and speak up when there is a crisis, like Jesus’s mother did at this wedding. The equality of God comes when God’s people who know Jesus speak up that there’s another way, like Jesus’s mother did at this wedding. The freedom of God comes when God’s people get to work and gather their resources. The abundance of God comes when God’s people do what Jesus says—love your neighbor as yourself, bind up the broken-hearted, free the captive, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and set at liberty those who are oppressed. This is what being a faithful witness looks like. 

 

With Jesus the best is yet to come—it was true at the Wedding at Cana, it was true during the Civil Rights movement, and it’s true today as we participate in bringing about God’s reign of peace and love. God calls us to pay attention to the underlying issues of justice in our community and the world, to listen to the lowly rather than powerful, and to trust in God’s abundance for all, knowing that with Jesus the best is yet to come. and that God is not done with us yet, that God still has surprises in store for us, and that God is still empowering us to know and learn and develop and create all manner of things to make this life better. God still wants joy and abundance for us. 

 

Let us go forth as faithful witness to this sign of grace, abundance, and joy, as partners in the kingdom that is, and the kingdom that is to come. Amen.

 

Sunday, September 9, 2018

16 Pentecost Proper 18 Yr B Sept 9 2018




Mark 7:24-37

Just close your eyes and imagine this story. Jesus went away to a region in Tyre to get away from everyone. Maybe he’d been walking all day, his feet were dirty and sore, his back was killing him, all he wanted to do was find a comfortable bed and take it easy for a while. While he was imagining the wonderful foot wash and nap he was going to have, a woman approaches him. Not a Jewish woman, who knows her place, who would have known better than to talk to a Jewish man in public, but a Gentile woman, a Syrophoenician at that, a woman so very far outside of Jesus' neighborhood. This story shows us a Jesus that we may not want to like, but this encounter that we read this morning between Jesus and this particular woman is an encounter that changes Jesus’ ministry.

Now this woman who in her time and place had no right to speak to Jesus, or any man, just by opening her mouth and speaking, makes a claim on Jesus’ time and power. Jesus recognized her, she’d approached him before about healing her daughter, and I think he wished she’d just go away and let him rest. So as soon as she said something to him, he barked back at her. We've all done that ourselves, I know I’ve done it. So hot and tired, so sore and thirsty, or even just at the end of your patience, anybody bothers you and you're quick with a curse. But just by responding to her, even in the cruel way he did, Jesus affirms that she is there, he affirms her presence. This is a profoundly counter-cultural encounter. But Jesus, tired as he may have been comes up with the worst insult imaginable at the time.

“I’ll feed the children before I feed you,” and then he called her a dog. Now the reason this was so awful was that Jewish home would never have a domestic dog in it. Remember last week we talked about things impure and unclean? Dogs were unclean, impure. He insulted her and everyone she was related to with that one. Her comeback was quick. She gets right in his face and reminds him that even the dogs eat the children’s crumbs. This is quite a show of verbal sparring, not unlike some we've heard recently. But with that, Jesus has been bested. Jesus heals her daughter, and eventually went on to heal the deaf man. Jesus doesn’t get the rest he's been seeking however.

What we have here is a classic literary tool filled with wordplay and juxtaposition. The writer of the gospel sets this up so that there is opposition between the “children”, who in this story are the Jews, and the “dogs,” who are the Gentiles. The woman in this story showcases not only her debating skills, but her faith. She dares to take his metaphor and turn it back on him. “Children get fed before the dogs? You’ve got that right. But even the dogs get to eat the children’s crumbs; even the pets get the scraps that fall from their master’s table!” She is arguing that even on his own terms, there should be something from him, some scrap of grace, for someone like her who comes to him in faith. She challenges Jesus.

This is all to say that her role in Jesus’ mission is utterly important. It is her willingness to engage Jesus, to challenge and question him that causes him to see that it is not just the Jews that he has come for, but the Gentiles as well, for all people. She calls him to the mission of inclusivity. Where the traditions of the elders and the religious law could see only an outcast, Jesus finally sees the woman’s heart of faith. He heals her child. From this point on Jesus does not hold his saving power in reserve but expands the circle of God’s mercy to include those once considered outsiders. Jesus opens himself to the whole world in mission. He welcomes all who put their faith in him. It is at this very point that Love wins.

This is a story of Jesus' change of mind. Previously Jesus thought his work was only with the Jews. She challenged Jesus and he changed his mind. I think this portrait helps us to see Jesus’ full humanity. I think this shows us that Jesus is moved to mercy, Jesus is in fact affected by the affairs of our lives, this story reveals Jesus’ compassion and true humanity.

The result of this encounter is that there are no outsiders. Jesus opens himself to the whole world in mission. The woman in this story encountered Jesus and challenged him to include all people in his mission. Therefore, God’s love and mercy are available to each and every person. There is no one outside of the circle of God’s love and mercy. These are powerful words. But do we take them seriously? Do we even believe them? First and foremost this means that you are not outside of God’s love and mercy. In a world where you have to be good enough, fast enough, slender enough, rich enough, to share in the rewards of our culture, it is nearly impossible to believe that you already receive God’s love and mercy without having enough of anything. In a world where you can change anything about yourself, a nip and tuck here and there, a new wardrobe, an extreme makeover, there is nothing you can do to make yourself any more desirable to God. In a world where you can be an American Idol, you can dance with the stars, you can show yourself off in America’s got talent, or even be a Super hero, right here in God’s midst, who you are is just right, just enough for God’s love and mercy.

The woman in our story today challenged Jesus to expand God’s mission to you and to me, but it is up to you and to me to respond to God’s love and mercy in ways that will bear fruit. Our response to God’s love and mercy will bear fruit when we act in the same way Jesus acts in this story. When we make room in our lives for those who are not ordinarily a part of our circle of friends, like the woman Jesus encountered, we do bring to the center those who are on the margins, we do encounter differently those we don’t like very much, we bear the fruit of the Kingdom of God, and we participate in bringing that Kingdom closer.

I think that's what we hear in the reading from James. It is a combination of faith and works that is our response to God's love. It is not just faith, it is not just works, it is the balance of both that is our response to God's love. Do not ever be mistaken that there is a particular amount of faith gets you closer to God, in into heaven, or whatever reward it is you want. Do not ever be mistaken that serving others without regard for yourself gets you a seat next to Jesus. It is entirely the other way around. God loves you, no matter what. God loves you, absolutely and abundantly. God has faith in you. God is working on your behalf. That is what the Syrophoenician woman shows us.

That is why we are who we are, that is why we do what we do, we respond to God's call, God's call of love, God's call of mercy, God's call of compassion.

All are loved, all are welcome, in this place, at this table, we must remember that whether we think we are worthy or not, all are welcome, we must remember that whether we agree or disagree all are welcome, we must remember that whether we think others are right or wrong, we are all welcome. Love wins.

Saturday, January 14, 2017

2 Epiphany Yr A Jan 15 2017



2 Epiphany Yr A Jan 15 2017 Audio

Come and spend the day with me, Jesus says to Andrew and his friend. Come and see where I am staying, come and see who I am. Come and spend the day with me. Jesus is the one they were waiting for, Jesus is the one they believed the stories they told were all about. Jesus, the Lamb of God, Jesus, the Son of God, Jesus, the one to whom John points. Come and spend the day with me.

You know, the meaning of words change over time. For example, hospital was a once a place for the reception and entertainment of travelers and pilgrims, from the Latin, "hospitality." Another, if you invested in someone, you clothed them, from the Latin "to clothe." So investment once meant "putting clothes on" which were vestments. The place I am going with this is the place we seem to be today with the word "evangelism," a word Episcopalians have had a hard time with for a while now. Even hearing the word strikes fear in the heart of any native Episcopalian, and even those of us who have come later in life to the light. We think of soap box yellers, we cringe at the thought of the question, "Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your lord and savior?" We are polite people, and know that this does not make for good dinner table or cocktail party conversation. Besides, what can stop conversation faster than, "Do you know where you're going when you die?" Or the one I like the very best, "Have you found Jesus?" I am always tempted to answer with, "I didn't know he was lost!" Or, "yes, he's been behind the couch the whole time!" The point is, that the word evangelist means "bringer of good news," therefore evangelism is to "bring good news."

Come and spend the day with me and I will bring you good news. Not such a bad way to evangelize, is it? Today I would like us to take back evangelism, to not be afraid of the word or of the activity. Today I would like us to respond to Jesus' invitation to spend the day, and listen to who Jesus calls us to be, and how Jesus calls us to be evangelists, how Jesus calls us to bring good news.

Another related word that elicits fear in many Episcopalians these days is mission. Mission has been related to the violent act of colonizing a people so that those people look and act and talk like the dominant culture. Our church, and others, have been guilty of this kind of mission in our history. And yet that is not what mission is all about. Mission is about building bridges and forming relationships and partnerships that may result in mutual growth and learning and compassion and healing.

Come and spend the day with me, and I will teach you about the good news, I will teach you about forgiveness and reconciliation, and you can bring that into the world and show others how to follow me. We claim to be followers of Jesus. Our baptismal identity is grounded in that claim. We reiterated that claim when we were confirmed, and we live out that claim every time we gather together to break bread. In the story we hear today, Andrew brings the good news to his brother and his friends, and together they follow Jesus.

Evangelism and mission are nothing more, and nothing less, than the invitation to come and spend the day with Jesus. To notice the amazing creation, to see where God is in your life, and to invite those you encounter into the Love, Freedom, and Truth that Jesus is. As with anything and everything, this takes practice. Your vestry practices evangelism, they may not know they are, but they do. Each time your vestry gathers, we begin in prayer and with stories about how we see God at work in our congregation and in our community. We call them Good News stories. God is at work, and we practice noticing that and describing that. You could practice that too. So the first part is to notice what God is up to.

The second part is to share what is important to you about your faith or your church. Why do you come here to Trinity every Sunday? Why do you seek Jesus? Is it because here you can be your broken, messy, confident, joyful, self in front of God and the rest of us? Is it because you are not perfect, but you want to find out what it is to be perfectly loved? Is it because you miss the mark, just like the rest of us, and in some way you know the freedom of forgiveness? Is it because you always have come here? Is it because you have a place here, you belong here? Is it because you help with GIFTS, or you deliver meals, or you give food and clothes to those who have none, and on some level you bring Jesus' incarnation to people who just need to eat?

The third part is the inviting, and we think the hardest part is the inviting. Like Andrew, who goes to get his brother, we too can invite those we work with, those we go to school with, those who we see in pain, to come and see. It may seem hard, but you invite people all the time, you invite them to your home, or to a movie, or to the concert, or to take a walk with you. It's no different. Come and see, what Trinity has for you. Come and see the Love that wins. Come and see how your life matters. Come and see the good news of Jesus in the word and music, in the bread and the wine, in prayer and silence, in who we are and what we do. Jesus says, come and spend the day with me. Come, and see who I am. Come and find healing, forgiveness, and love. Come.

And then go. Follow Jesus out into the world. Bring the Good News into your families and your work, bring the Good News into the marketplace and the community. Bring the Good News of God's healing love. Our voice matters. Our actions matter. We are the people who can make a difference. We are the people who know the true freedom of God's love. We are the people who know that no matter what we've done, how broken we truly are, that God loves us anyway. Preach this Good News with your life and your love. Proclaim this Good News with your heart and your soul. We are all related in God, show with your life the ways God's love in the world. Amen.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

4 Easter Yr B April 26 2015



4 Easter Yr B Ap 26 2015 Audio

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 the 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. 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. Jesus is the bread, the light, a path, a gate, a vine. There are many. 

Each one of the images that is presented to us about who Jesus is, 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 as 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, or 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! 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 by green pastures and still waters, I will guide 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. 

Each of us are called by name, often lovingly, sometimes urgently, like the sheep, we seek that voice that calls. Sometimes, we wander far and get caught in the brambles, we get hurt, we break our leg. 

But, the radical nature of Jesus the Good Shepherd is that this shepherd gives his life for the sheep. That is the good news of this shepherd. In our passage we hear about the hired hand, the hired shepherd, who leaves the sheep and runs away when danger comes. The gospel writer John, shows us that is not who Jesus is. But you and I are called by name, and this particular shepherd is not like the others. This shepherd says and does something truly radical. “I lay down my life for my sheep." No shepherd does that. 

We are loved absolutely and abundantly. Jesus laid down his life; he suffered and was killed, and was resurrected from the dead. So we follow this shepherd, who shows us and gives us absolutely new life, in laying down our lives as a response to that amazing love. And we are transformed and created new on that journey. The journey is not about the endgame, but about being the body of Christ while we journey together. It is about the love and care we have for each other and the rest of creation. Resurrection is a way of life. We think Easter is a day, but it is not, Easter resurrection is a way of life.

Because of our limited human imagination, we think death is an ending. Jesus, the shepherd, shows us that death is just the beginning. It is the beginning of the new creation. It is the beginning of transformation. It is the beginning of being created in God’s image. Death is painful, death is hard, but the promise is that Jesus takes up our life again; Jesus shows us how to do it. 

If we are to live this life fully alive, fully aware, fully engaged; if we are to live this life called by our baptism, called by name, marked as Christ’s own forever, we must follow the shepherd to the green pasture, beside the still waters, through the valley of the shadow of death. We must follow the example of the shepherd to die to that which keeps us from ourselves, we must die to that which gets in our way of helping our brother or sister, we must tear down the walls that we build around us that prevent us from seeking and serving Christ in all persons. 

This time as I was reading this passage which is so familiar, I was struck by the line "I have other sheep that don't belong to this sheep pen. I must lead them too. They will listen to my voice and there will be one flock, with one shepherd." This has caused me to wonder again about this image of this shepherd. It is so expansive. In addition to this particular flock of sheep that the Good Shepherd protects and calls by name, Jesus calls others we don't even know about yet, by name. That is truly exciting. So I wonder if that is where we might want to focus our energies and our thoughts at this time. Jesus calls not only us by name, but those we don't even know yet. Jesus knows them. Maybe that's what this image of Good Shepherd, and the sheepfold has to do with us today. There is this whole other population of people that Jesus also calls by name, that Jesus also loves dearly and desperately, that are also a part of God's mission of healing and reconciliation in the world. I think the question, or maybe even the call that Jesus has for us today is, how do we go into the world and see and experience all of those whom Jesus calls and we do not yet know? How do we go into the world and find Jesus' presence, Jesus' resurrection, in all of those whom Jesus calls and we do not yet know? How are we a part of God's mission, how are we a part of the work that Jesus is doing in the world, how are we a part of the whole of group of sheep that Jesus calls and loves and includes with God's mission of healing and reconciliation in the world? How might we get on board with God's mission in the world? How are we living as Easter people?

Saturday, August 16, 2014

10 Pentecost Proper 15 Yr A Aug 17 2014

Audio 8.17.2014

It's been a hard year. There has been fighting and conflicts all over the globe, do we send troops or do we not? There is senseless violence in our own country. People are behaving badly all over the place. We've been stretched to breaking with the demands on our patience and on compassion. People we know and people we hardly know dieing senselessly. There is disease that we don't understand. We have experienced so very closely the broken world in which we live. There is goodness all around us, in so many places and in so many people, but it is a broken world, and we have seen much of the brokenness in these days. 

And we have before us a hard lesson from Matthew and this continuing story in Genesis of Joseph and his brothers, brothers who sold him into slavery because they didn't like that he was a dreamer. What are we to make of it all? What are we to make of the readings and what are we to make of the reality? 

In the verses from Matthew we have before us today, Jesus really seems mad. He's been spending all of his time teaching the disciples and other followers, parable after parable, story after story, trying to impart everything he can about humanity's relationship with God, and God's relationship with God's people. Jesus experienced the tragic death of his relative, John. Jesus has fed thousands of people, and all he wants is to get away by himself for a little R and R. He's got to walk on the water out to the boat to save those hapless disciples, and after all that, the Pharisees come all the way from Jerusalem to entrap him. I imagine that the telling of this story has quite of bit of censoring and editing, I imagine Jesus' language may have been much more harsh than we hear today. 

Jesus says that what comes out of our mouths and from our hearts can be disastrous when we don't speak with love and truth. Jesus says, our words matter. Our words have the power to create a compassionate reality, and our words can challenge the darkness, our words can even be the light in the darkness. Our words and our actions even have the power to dispel the darkness. One of my favorite books by my favorite author is A Wrinkle in Time, it is a story that is all about about using our gifts, following in the footsteps of the saints who came before us, about daring to be different, it's about foolishness, faith and free will, and the greatest call and commandment, loving one another. That story shows us, like scripture tells us today, what we say to one another matters, our words matter. 

The words that dispel the darkness are words that come from a heart that is filled with mercy and compassion, a heart filled with love for each and every gift of God's creation. Even in the midst of sadness, even in the midst of tragedy, we are called to speak words of mercy and compassion, words of God's love for all of God's creation. We are called to speak words of mercy and compassion into every darkness. If we don't do it, if we don't speak words of love, words of mercy and compassion, the darkness will not be dispelled. That is what Jesus is trying to show us in this gospel today, and that is the truth of what God in Jesus has done and continues to do. Darkness does not win. Love wins. Our words can create a compassionate reality. And we are desperate for a compassionate reality. 

The second half of the story from Matthew paints a picture of Jesus that may be even harder for us to understand. He is angry, and mean, and in this particular story, Jesus claims an exclusive mission. He says he is sent only to the lost sheep of Israel. What is amazing in this story is that the Canaanite woman challenges Jesus, and her challenge creates a new compassionate reality. She challenges Jesus to include not just the lost sheep of Israel, but everyone in the known world. 

In this story, the Canaanite woman is absolutely and completely the other, the foreigner, she doesn't look like us or talk like us. But she's also a mother. Jesus is speaking to a mother whose daughter's life is at risk. Many of you know that when your child's life is at stake, you will do most anything, go to any lengths, you'll stay by their bedside, you'll take them to the hospital in the middle of the night, you'll pray and ask everyone you know to pray, you'll even bargain with God. This is that mother. She's not an insider, she's not an Israelite, she's a foreigner, and even Jesus, this Jesus who I have always believed includes everyone, says no. Maybe he's just too tired, maybe he's had a hard day, maybe he's fed so many people he's just spent. I've felt that way. 

But then, when you don't think you can do one more thing, help one more person, listen to one more story, something happens. Something shows forth the light, the love, the healing, the hope. Lord, help me she prays. And he does. Something breaks through. And the break through expands the love, she challenges Jesus, and the result is not just her baby being healed, but it is healing for everyone, for all of us. The light shows forth, mercy and compassion are possible. 

We are desperate for this compassionate reality. Our words matter. Love wins. What we do and what we say in the midst of sadness and tragedy, are capable of healing. Remember, what Jesus does on the cross is to take evil out of the world with him. He does not look for revenge, and surely he is the one who would have the right to. Instead he loves. Instead he forgives. Instead he heals.

It is our job to bear Jesus' love, forgiveness and healing into the world, it is our job to speak words of compassion into the world. This is our mission. To build bridges of love and compassion, to build bridges of healing and hope. Today, we will send a missionary into the world to build those bridges. And we will do that centered in our baptismal covenant, because all of us are called to be missionaries, all of us are called to be bridge builders, all of us are called to be love bearers, all of us are called to build a compassionate reality. This is our mission, the one we send bears our mission, our love, our words. Because, love wins. 

Saturday, March 1, 2014

The Transfiguration Yr A March 2 2014

Audio 3.2.2014

We hear this story of Jesus' changing appearance each year at the conclusion of the Sundays after the Epiphany and as we launch into Lent. As I hear the story of Jesus' changing appearance this time, I see in my mind's eye a trailer for a new movie. This is the stuff of pyrotechnic extravaganza. Our main character calls his friends to gather around him, and all of a sudden he dazzles before our eyes. Blazing and shooting and appearing with him are Moses and Elijah. There is so much happening in this trailer we hope it is not all the best stuff of the movie itself. The computer generated affects are big and loud and wild. The significance of the ancestors appearing is not lost on those in the audience watching. The appearance of Moses and Elijah bring us soaring in on that place where time is transcended, and those who came before us are side by side with us in the present and our attention is pointed to the future, but what kind of future will that be. If this is the trailer, what's the rest of the movie like? Oh, the stuff of movies that I love.

Oh, but wait. This trailer in my mind's eye is much like a story already told, at the conclusion of Star Wars, The Return of the Jedi. Anakin Skywalker, Yoda, and Obi-Wan appear amid the fireworks of celebration as Luke Skywalker looks on and wonders, hmm, this is important, this means something. 

Well, this is important. This does mean something, but what is it, I wonder. What does this story of transfiguration have to say to us 21st century people. In the midst of this pyrotechnic extravaganza, with Moses and Elijah in attendance, I think it means that freeing people from slavery and wandering in the wilderness, is still God's mission. Healing and reconciliation, wholeness and forgiveness, is still God's mission. God's victory over death doesn't mean we don't die, Moses and Elijah indeed have died, Anakin and Obi-Wan indeed have died, but God does something more. God's love wins. God picks up the fragments of our lives and makes us whole. God loves our dark side and our light side, and puts us back together. 

This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased. These are the very words we heard at Jesus' baptism, these are the words we hear on this mountaintop. Jesus has gathered his friends, Peter and James and John, and they hear these words, they are witnesses to this statement, this claim, that God's love is transforming, that God's love is transfiguring. So beside being an amazing story, we hear it on this last Sunday before Lent, because it points us in the right direction. Lent is really a baptismal journey. We begin on Ash Wednesday with the ashes that highlight the cross that has been traced on our forehead at baptism, when we were marked as Christ's own forever. The journey of Lent calls us to the wilderness, the journey of Lent calls us to die to that which is killing us, so that we may be raised to new life with Jesus, so that we may be transformed and transfigured by God's amazing and abundant love and grace. So that we may live fully and completely the life we are given as God's delight.  

A part of this story I love, is that Peter wants to make the experience last forever by erecting three tents. Peter is one of my favorite people, probably because I am so much like him. When something wonderful happens, don't we want it to last longer? Don't we want the next time to be as wonderful as the first time? Don't we want to pack it all up so that we can do it exactly the same way the next time? I think this is where the expression "mountaintop experience" first came from. But you and I know that's not the way of life. You and I know that you can't stay in that place of pyrotechnic extravaganza, and in the end, Peter realizes it too. And that's where God meets us, in the midst of our humanity, in the midst of who we really are, where we believe we cannot be loved, but are loved, because God's love wins.

And maybe that's what is so important about this story. In the midst of the fullness of our humanity, on the mountaintop, as well as in the depth of our pain, and when we miss the mark, and in all the places in between, God comes to us and claims us. God's claim on us, God's love for us, sets us free. God's claim on us, God's love for us, transforms us, not into perfect people, but into people whose imperfections make us compassionate. God's love remembers our brokenness and makes us merciful. God's love seeps into the cracks of our hearts and we are forgiven. 

Jesus touched them saying, "get up and do not be afraid." God's love for us transforms us and makes us fearless, so that we can go out and be about God's mission. Continuing in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers; persevering in resisting evil, and, whenever falling into sin, repenting and returning to the Lord; proclaiming by word and example the Good News of God in Christ; seeking and serving Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves; and striving for justice and peace among all people, and respecting the dignity of every human being. 

On that mountaintop, in that pyrotechnic extravaganza, our ancestors Moses and Elijah remind us that we are a part of the timelessness of God's amazing and abundant love for us in particular as well as for all of humanity. Peter and James and John show us the truth of our humanity, both our desire to possess the glitz and glitter of a mountaintop experience, as well as our tendency to be afraid of the vulnerability of being known by God. Jesus shows us that we are beloved, God's delight. Get up and do not be afraid.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

15 Pentecost Yr B

Just close your eyes and imagine this story. Jesus went away to a region in Tyre to get away from everyone. Maybe he’d been walking all day, his feet were dirty and sore, his back was killing him, all he wanted to do was find a comfortable bed and take it easy for a while. While he was imagining the wonderful foot wash and nap he was going to have, a woman approaches him. Not a Jewish woman, who knows her place, who would have known better not to talk to a Jewish man in public, but a Gentile woman, a Syrophoenician at that, a woman so very far outside of Jesus' immediate neighborhood. This encounter that we read this morning between Jesus and this particular woman is an encounter that changes Jesus’ ministry, but at the same time it is an encounter that just seems and sounds bizarre.

Now this woman who had no right to speak to Jesus, or any man, just by opening her mouth and speaking, claims Jesus’ time and power. The worst part about it was that he recognized her, she’d approached him before about healing her daughter, he wished she’d just go away and let him rest. So as soon as she said something to him, he barked back at her. We've all done that ourselves. So hot and tired, so sore and thirsty, anybody bothers you and you're quick with curse. But just by responding to her, even in the cruel way he did, Jesus affirms that she has status in his eyes. This is a profoundly counter-cultural encounter. But even at that, Jesus comes up with the worst insult he could imagine at the time.

“I’ll feed the children before I feed you, you dog.” A good Jewish home would never have a domestic dog in it. Dogs were unclean, impure. He insulted her and everyone she was related to with that one. Her comeback was quick. She gets right in his face and reminds him that even the dogs eat the children’s crumbs. This is quite a show of verbal sparring, better than any we've seen recently. With that, Jesus has been bested, and he heals her daughter, and eventually he went on to heal the deaf man. He doesn’t get the rest he's been seeking however.

What we have here is a classic literary tool filled with wordplay and juxtaposition. The writer of the gospel sets this up so that there is opposition between the “children”, who in this story are the Jews, and the “dogs,” who are the Gentiles. The woman in this story showcases not only her debating skills, but her faith. She dares to take his metaphor and turn it back on him. “Children get fed before the dogs? You’ve got that right. But even the dogs get to eat the children’s crumbs; even the pets get the scraps that fall from their master’s table!” She is arguing that even on his own terms, there should be something from him, some scrap of grace, for someone like her who comes to him in faith. She is challenging him.

Her role in Jesus’ mission is utterly important. It is her willingness to engage Jesus, to challenge and question him that causes him to see that it is not just the Jews that he has come for, but the Gentiles as well. It is this mission of inclusiveness that she calls him to. This becomes the day that Jesus’ gospel goes to the dogs. Where the traditions of the elders and the religious law could see only an outcast, Jesus finally sees the woman’s heart of faith. He heals her child. From this point on Jesus does not hold his saving power in reserve but expands the circle of God’s mercy to include those once considered outsiders. Jesus opens himself to the whole world in mission. He welcomes all who put their faith in him. It is at this very point that Love wins.

This is a story of Jesus' change of mind. Previously he thought his work was only with the Jews. She challenged him and he changed his mind. I think this portrait helps us to see Jesus’ full humanity. I think this shows us that Jesus is moved to mercy, Jesus is in fact affected by the affairs of our lives, this story reveals Jesus’ compassion and true humanity.

The result of this encounter is that there are no outsiders. Jesus opens himself to the whole world in mission. The woman in this story encountered Jesus and challenged him to include all people in his mission. Therefore, God’s love and mercy are available to each and every person. There is no one outside of the circle of God’s love and mercy. These are powerful words. But do we take them seriously? Do we even believe them? First and foremost this means that you are not outside of God’s love and mercy. In a world where you have to be good enough, fast enough, slender enough, rich enough, to share in the rewards of our culture, it is nearly impossible to believe that you already receive God’s love and mercy without having enough of anything. In a world where you can change anything about yourself, a nip and tuck here and there, a new wardrobe, an extreme makeover, there is nothing you can do to make yourself any more desirable to God. In a world where you can be an American Idol, you can dance with the stars, you can show yourself off in America’s got talent, or even be a Super hero, right here in God’s midst, who you are is just right, just enough for God’s love and mercy.

The woman in our story today challenged Jesus to expand God’s mission to you and to me, but it is up to you and to me to respond to God’s love and mercy in ways that will bear fruit. Our response to God’s love and mercy will bear fruit when we act in the same way Jesus acts in this story. When we make room in our lives for those who are not ordinarily a part of our circle of friends, like the woman Jesus encountered, we do bring to the center those who are on the margins, we do encounter differently those we don’t like very much, we bear the fruit of the Kingdom of God, and we participate in bringing that Kingdom closer.

I think that's what we hear in the reading from James. It is a combination of faith and works that is our response to God's love. It is not just faith, it is not just works, it is the balance of both that is our response to God's love. Do not ever be mistaken that there is a particular amount of faith gets you closer to God, in into heaven, or whatever reward it is you want. Do not ever be mistaken that serving others without regard for yourself gets you a seat next to Jesus. It is entirely the other way around. God loves you, no matter what. God loves you, absolutely and abundantly. God has faith in you. God is working on your behalf. That is what the Syrophoenician woman shows us.

That is why we are whom we are, that is why we do what we do, we respond to God's call, God's call of love, God's call of mercy, God's call of compassion.

All are loved, all are welcome, in this place, at this table, we must remember that whether we think we are worthy or not, all are welcome, we must remember that whether we agree or disagree all are welcome, we must remember that whether we think others are right or wrong, we are all welcome. Love wins.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

10 Pentecost Yr B

I begin today with a story from Dwight Zscheile's book, People of the Way. Melissa had left the church long ago, in her early twenties. After her daughter was born, Melissa struggled with depression, during which time she also suffered a few miscarriages. At an utter loss, she sensed a leading one day to seek a Protestant church where communion was offered every week. She simply wanted to pray and receive the comfort of the Eucharist. Melissa found an Episcopal church advertising a healing Eucharist and showed up. She remembers thinking, I am defective. I don't know how to mother my child or do anything successfully. Please heal me. I haven't prayed much for the last twenty years, but please help me anyway. The lectionary readings that day happened to be all about bread: manna from heaven feeding the starving Israelites, Jesus as the bread of heaven. What she heard whispered in the liturgy was this: You aren't defective. You're hungry. Eat. (page 43)

We are not different from Melissa. We wander around feeling not quite right, not quite whole. We wander around trying to fill up on that which cannot fill us, that which cannot sustain us, that which cannot seep into the cracks of our broken hearts. We look for something that we believe will make us happy and successful. And we come here, looking for something, just like those in our story today, not quite sure what it is. What we get is Jesus. Jesus is the food that fills us, Jesus is the blood that seeps into the cracks of our hearts and souls and makes us whole. Come and I will feed you. Come, and you will never be hungry or thirsty again. When you eat this bread and drink this wine, you will be healed, you are a new creation, your hunger will be satisfied. That is what the gospel writer John means when he refers to eternal life.

Last week I said that the feeding of the five thousand was a massive picnic in the wilderness. Today we hear Jesus say to them, I am the bread of life, whoever comes to me will never be hungry and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. Not only is the bread Jesus' body, but it is manna from heaven, the bread of angels. The wine is not just Jesus' blood, but the free-flowing drink at the messianic feast, the substance of joy. It will fill you up, like nothing else can.

A loaf of bread is as practical as it is mysterious. It will fill our hunger in so many ways. And as we partake of the bread we become the body, the body of Christ. We become a new creation, we are made whole. We become a community of faith. We are healed, we are put back together, we are re-membered.

As we take the bread into our bodies, and as we are healed, we are formed as followers of Jesus. We come here, week after week, and week after week we take into our bodies the bread of life, we ingest the Word over and over again. Jesus seeps into our very being and fills the cracks and fissures. In this practice, we become the people of God, we become who God creates us to be. Part of the mystery is that the loaf of bread teaches us who we are as well as transforms us into whom we may be. Our practice and prayer surround the loaf of bread with word and action.

As we take the bread into our bodies we become followers of Jesus, and as followers of Jesus we embody God's promise and reconciliation in the world. That is our mission. What does God call us to do? God calls us to embody healing and reconciliation in the world. We are a holy community, sanctified by the presence and Spirit of God, sharing the Lord's meal, and as a holy community, God works through us ordinary people, to do extraordinary things.

We are a witness to the world of an alternate way of living. In the world, the strongest wins, in Jesus' community, Love wins. In the world, the one who has the most wins, in Jesus' community, Love wins. In the world the powerful, the well known, the stars, get the attention, in Jesus' community, the first will be last, and the last will be first. Our identity as followers of Jesus is found in participating in God's life and love for the world, in creating Jesus' community wherever we find ourselves. We care for our own members, and we love our neighbors the same way God loves us in Jesus. We go into the world bearing a spirit of humility, compassion, and mercy, and we bring Jesus' healing wherever we go.

We also receive Jesus' healing from others, we receive Jesus' hospitality from others, and Jesus' body is completed by others, because we don't have all the answers, we don't know it all, we don't have the right way or the only way. There is so much we have yet to learn, so many ways we can be Jesus' body that we do not know yet.

It is I, do not be afraid. You will eat and be filled, you eat and be healed, you will eat and be sent into the world to be Jesus' hands and feet. Our mission is to show others that they too, can feed and touch and heal and love, without fear, without needing to get it right, like Melissa, you don't need to be perfect, because you are perfectly loved.

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost Proper 9 July 5 2026, St. Martha and Mary, Eagan MN

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost Proper 9 July 5 2026, St. Martha and Mary, Eagan MN Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67, Psalm 45: 11-18, or Song of...