17th Sunday after Pentecost Proper 20 Yr B Sept 19 2021

17th Sunday after Pentecost Proper 20 Yr B Sept 19 2021

Proverbs 31:10-31, Psalm 1, James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a, Mark 9:30-37

 

What does it mean to follow Jesus, for those who were Jesus’ friends in this story, and for us today?

 

We are in the heart of Mark’s gospel; Jesus and the disciples are on a journey that will end in Jerusalem, the place where Jesus is killed. Jesus has told the disciples once already, this is the second time Jesus tells them he will be killed, and the third time Jesus tells them they are further along the path to Jerusalem. Every time Jesus and those who were following him pass through Galilee, we are reminded that Jesus is trying to teach them something, and us as well. They are on a journey of discovery, and as they journey Jesus tries very hard to keep them away from the crowds who are beginning to amass, so that Jesus can care for them.

 

So, let’s take a look at a couple of important details in these few verses. First, Jesus is to be betrayed. The gospel writer Mark, as we already know, is a man of few words, and gets straight to the point. Mark writes that Jesus is betrayed into human hands, and that Jesus suffers at the hands of the Jewish elders, those who were powerful, and maybe even considered great. And secondly, further along the road, Jesus hears his friends bickering, and finds out they are arguing about who of them is the greatest. As way of illustration, Jesus picks up the child and teaches them about greatness, about welcoming, about what it means to be a follower. Now you all know that these are crazy words. Children had no power, no greatness. Children were of no account. Oh, of course, their parents loved them, but they had no rights, no influence, no standing. They were utterly dependent, utterly vulnerable, utterly powerless. So how could caring for a child count as greatness? That is crazy talk.

 

It seems we haven’t changed much in all these years. We’re still wondering about what constitutes greatness. Is greatness measured by power and wealth? Is greatness measured by the ability to control people? Is greatness about being first so that others may be last? We hear this definition of greatness pretty consistently by some leadership in government and business. Is greatness measured by where one sits at the table? Is greatness measured by winning and losing? Is greatness measured by fame? Is greatness a competition? Is the person who wins the game, the football game, the tennis game, the basketball game, great? Is the person who wins the bachelor’s heart, or the amazing race, or American Idol, great?

 

What if we stop defining greatness like all of that, and start measuring greatness like Jesus shows us? What if we imagined that greatness wasn’t about power and wealth and fame and all the rest, but instead we measured greatness by how we share with others, how we take care of others, how we love others, how we serve others. What kind of world would we live in? Can you imagine if people were regularly trying to out-do each other in their deeds of kindness and service? Or if there were nationally broadcast competitions to see who was willing to be last so that others could go first? Or if there were reality TV shows that followed people around as they tried to help as many people as possible? Not for the fame or celebrity, but because it’s the right thing to do, it’s the way of following Jesus. What kind of world would we live in? I don’t know about you, but I think it would be a pretty great world.

 

The definition of greatness Jesus offers seems crazy because it is so completely, utterly counter-cultural and boundary breaking. Jesus calls us to imagine that true greatness lies in service and taking care of those who are most vulnerable – those with little influence or power, those the culture is most likely to ignore. And this is what it means to follow Jesus. True greatness is vulnerability. True greatness is foolishness. True greatness looks to the world like loss. Jesus looks to the world like loss. Jesus says he will be betrayed, and killed, and rise again. And in doing that, Jesus transforms the world; Jesus transforms us. Jesus shows us that in God’s kingdom, letting go is freedom, and greatness is in service to the ones God loves. Jesus shows us that those whom society throws away, are brought to the center of God’s love and life.

 

Those who welcome a child, welcome me. Jesus does not say, those who welcome those in power, welcome me. Jesus does not say, those who welcome the wealthy, welcome me. Jesus does not say, those who welcome only those who look like me, welcome me. Jesus says, greatness is measured by welcoming the one who has no power, serving the one who is on the fringes, healing the one who is hurt and crossing boundaries to serve the other, the alien, the outcast.

 

What if this became the measure of greatness in not only our church lives, but also our social lives and our community lives? What if this became the measure of greatness in our government? What if we share the love that wins so that the rules change and those on the margins are brought into the fullness of the community. What if we share the love that wins in service to the broken hearted? What if we share the love that wins in service to those who have been kicked out, not listened to, or shamed for their truth.

 

What if we took Jesus seriously? “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” What if we approached our neighbors with kindness and generosity, trusting that each and every life, each and every story is precious in God’s sight? I believe greatness is in vulnerability, greatness is in giving, greatness is in gratitude.

 

In the larger cotext in this part of Mark’s gospel, Jesus teaches about prayer. The disciples learn about staying close to God through prayer and drawing strength from God and one another through service. In fact, the way of the cross is the way of servanthood. Prayer and service are hand in hand, there is not one without the other. Following Jesus is about what we do each day, each hour, each moment. 

 

It doesn’t have to be hard. I offer today a prayer and service practice I learned from the author Ann Lamott. Three prayers, Help, Thanks, Wow.

 

Lord, help. 

In our time of desperation, 

in our time of need, help us to follow you, 

to see you, to hear you.

Lord, thank you, 

all that I am, all that I have is not mine, but yours.

Wow, this creation is amazing.

 

Help, thanks, wow. Amen.

7 Easter Yr B May 16 2021

7 Easter Yr B May 16 2021

Acts 1:15-17, 21-26, 1 John 5:9-13, John 17:6-19, Psalm 1

 

We shift just a little bit in John’s gospel today as we prepare for the Day of Pentecost, the coming of the Holy Spirit. Our Sunday readings have guided us as we have seen Jesus after death and resurrection. We heard the story of Ascension this past Thursday, and we will hear the story of the one who continues to abide with the disciples, the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, soon to come. Today we find ourselves with the disciples overhearing Jesus’ prayer to the father. Jesus has said what he needs to say throughout the farewell discourse, he has told all of his stories, and given all of his instructions, and has no more words left, just prayer. 

 

It is very special for us to overhear this prayer with the disciples. It is a prayer filled with joy and courage. In it Jesus prays for himself in what he knows are to be the last hours of his life. Jesus prays for the disciples who remain in the world while he has to go, and Jesus prays for future believers. Jesus gives us a picture that is not necessarily victorious, but instead a picture of love’s persistence and survival.  

 

In this prayer we learn about eternal life. Jesus prays for eternal life for all who have been given to him. It is right here that we know what eternal life is, the eternal life that John keeps writing about, and Jesus keeps talking about, “this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.” You see, eternal life is not about a reward at death, eternal life is about the relationship that God in Jesus yearns to have with each of us. Eternal life is about being in relationship with God who creates us, Jesus who walks with us and shows us the way of love, and Spirit who sustains, protects, and guides us. And yet we know that relationships are never fully expressed. If there is a relationship at all it is always growing, always seeking its fullness and completion. So, both of these are true. Eternal life is being in relationship with the God whose dream for us is love, now and yet to be. In this we have a glimpse of the glory that is, and the glory that will be. 

 

In this prayer Jesus prays that the disciples may be as closely related to God as he is, so they can be one heart and mind as they are one heart and mind. We have heard John over and over with the images that connect us to God, the vine and the branches, that God abides in us and we in God, and that culminates in this prayer, this prayer of unity with God. Jesus prays that the intimacy of his relationship with God is the same for us. 

 

Jesus entrusts the disciples and us to God’s care, God’s protection, and the joy of God’s embrace. Jesus asks that the disciples will not be left alone, and that you and I are not left alone. 

 

And lastly, Jesus prays for those who will believe because of the disciples, that is you and me as well. And Jesus prays a prayer of protection for all of us as we live in the world among all of the world’s chaos and challenge. Jesus prays that that the love with which the father loves him, may be in us. 

 

It’s enough to just overhear Jesus’ prayer. It is powerful, and wonderful. I am so moved that Jesus includes us in this prayer, we are those who believe because of the disciples, we are those who believe because of the witness to the way of love through the centuries. 

 

But I also think there is something more for us in Jesus’ prayer, and that is this. Like Jesus, when all the words are used up, when it seems we have no words left to say what we mean, we pray. That’s what Jesus has done here, used up all his words in instructing the disciples, and now he comes to this point of knowing what is to come, and he falls on his knees to pray. In this prayer, he doesn’t pray to be relieved of the death he is to die, he prays that he may be fully at one with his creator. He prays for those he leaves behind. And he prays for those who will come after him to spread the word of love, he prays for us to touch the world with love. And this is how we shall pray. 

 

Sometimes it seems so difficult to pray. Maybe because we think we have to do it in a particular way, or with a particular set of words, or about particular things. Sometimes it feels like we just can’t pray, when life has gotten the better of us, when the world just seems too painful, when it feels like we’ve lost all faith. 

 

It seems to me that Jesus was in that very same place, trying to teach his friends and followers some very important principles of life and they were incredibly slow to get any of it. Or knowing that pain and tragedy was inevitable. This is the point. Prayer isn’t about having it all together, prayer isn’t about saying the right words, prayer is about the relationship. Prayer is about opening ourselves up to the one who loves us no matter how stupid, or slow, or tired, or wonderful, we feel. Whether we can or can’t pray, whether we try to pray and fall asleep, whether we don’t have words or we have too many words, I believe God just wants us to communicate. 

 

And sometimes, when prayer seems absolutely impossible, we borrow from others. That’s right. We rely on others. That’s what being in this community of faith is all about. We pray for each other. Prayer puts us into relationship with each other. That very last part of Jesus’ prayer, as translated by Eugene Peterson in the message goes like this. 

“But I have known you, and these disciples know
That you sent me on this mission.
I have made your very being known to them—
Who you are and what you do—
And continue to make it known,
So that your love for me
Might be in them
Exactly as I am in them.”

 

Prayer makes God’s very being known to us, prayer makes us known to each other and the world. And that is knowing in the biblical sense. Intimate, relational, loving. Amen.

Seventh Sunday of Easter Yr A May 24 2020

Video

Seventh Sunday of Easter Yr A May 24 2020

Acts 1:6-14, 1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11, John 17:1-11, Psalm 68:1-10, 33-36

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

5 Epiphany Yr B Feb 4 2018

5 Epiphany Yr B Feb 4 2018 Audio

My mother-in-law, Rick’s mom, is an amazing woman. She has enough love in her heart for the whole world. She’s worked hard her entire adult life, often working overnights in restaurants as a waitress or a manager. She has been a caterer, and has been known to bake Christmas cookies and cakes for the people in her building. Food has not only been her bread and butter, but food is also the means by which she shows her love and finds her worth. And we love her dearly. We never expect her to prepare a meal for us, but, well you know, she does anyway. She’s made garlic toast and roast beef hash, and a dish only a son could like, Cedric’s casserole. Butterfinger bars, pink squirrels, Russian teacakes…. You try to say, no, you know you really don’t have to, and it rings hollow, because really, she has to, it’s who she is. She is whole and complete; she is whom she truly was created to be when she is in her kitchen. 

Jesus heals Simon’s mother-in-law. And the first thing she does is to get up and serve them. This is a story that has always made me mad. No rest, no recovery, no getting back at things slowly, the fever left her, and she began to serve them. On the surface it seems like the perpetuation of stereotypes. And then I am reminded of my mother-in-law, and I remember that what they share is that their wholeness, their health, their being fully who they are, is tied directly to their love of serving. When my mother in law is sick and cannot putz around her kitchen baking this and that, she is not herself. What Jesus did here was more than just heal her, if that isn’t enough, he put things right, he restores the order of things, he makes whole what is broken, he brings her to herself, he gives her a new life. The radical nature of this story is not necessarily that Simon’s mother-in-law was healed, and not necessarily that she served, the radical nature of this story is Jesus’ capacity to restore her wholeness, to restore her value and worth, to actually give her new life. 

That’s what casting out demons and healing is about with Jesus. Jesus heals a leper, Jesus heals a paralytic, Jesus heals a man with a withered hand. Jesus heals a woman who has been bleeding for twelve years, and a child who has died. It is not just removing disease, as if that isn’t enough, but these are stories about Jesus’ power to bring people into a new relationship, to bring people into right relationship with himself and with others. These are stories about making whole what is broken, these are stories about bringing healing into a fragmented world, these are stories about this absolutely new thing that God is up to. These are stories about making the dead alive.

The Good News is that in a broken and fragmented world, you can live a life that is whole. That is not to say that the life you live will be perfect, whole and perfect are nothing alike. Perfect is what we see set before us as a standard by those who can sell us something to make us seem perfect. Perfect is what we will be if we buy the right skin lotion, perfect is what we will be if we buy the right house, perfect is what we will be if we marry the right person, or play the right game or have the right bank account or life insurance or whatever. The harder we work for perfect, the more frustrated, depressed, angry, and resentful we become.

The Good News is that in a broken and fragmented world, you can live a life that is whole. When Rick and I were married, we were given the chalice that was used for Holy Communion that day. On our 10th anniversary, we brought the chalice to church with us to use at communion in celebration of our anniversary. As I was getting out of the car that day, I dropped the chalice. We picked up the pieces, and I set about putting the cup back together. It is whole, but surely not perfect. It is now filled with 33 years of growth, of pain, of happiness, of heartache, of joy and of sorrow. We have lived together through pain and suffering, death and resurrection. We are not perfect, but in Jesus’ love we are whole. 

It is this Good News that we must proclaim to the world. Perfect people have no time for church, broken and hurting people, you and I, come to be made whole, come to be restored to fullness of life, come to be made new in the waters of baptism, come to be nourished by the bread and wine of communion, come to see Jesus in one another, come to be made wholly who we are created to be. 

Jesus is a good Jew, he goes to synagogue on the Sabbath, but then he goes and breaks the law by healing on the Sabbath. What Mark is trying to show us is that the Word of God, God in the flesh, is active and growing. Jesus knows that there is a danger in people knowing that he is the Word of God, God in the flesh. Jesus knows that it is also dangerous for him to neglect his own relationship with the one who gives him life, so he goes to pray. Wholeness involves prayer, into our brokenness comes the Word, alive and active, quiet and contemplative. 

Jesus was fully who he was created to be as he went about healing, casting out demons, turning over tables in the temple, eating with sinners, welcoming the children. It was all in a days work for him, albeit hard work. And he too needed to regain his balance, find his center, kneel before his creator, and pray. 

I don’t think the 1st century world in which Jesus lived is much different than the world in which we live. People are broken, disheartened, there is greed and there is idolatry. Through Jesus, God offers us healing and wholeness, through Jesus, God offers us the opportunity to be ourselves. Putting ourselves, like Jesus did, in the posture of prayer brings us to a place where we can hear the call to be ourselves, to be whole. Prayer is a place in which we find our relationship with God, prayer is a place in which we find ourselves. 

Come and be healed, come and be who you are called to be, come, and find yourself. 

10 Pentecost Yr C Proper 12 July 24 2016

10 Pentecost Yr C Proper 12 July 24 2016 Audio

Jesus was praying, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, Lord, teach us to pray. Jesus responded in three ways. First, Jesus gave the disciples words to pray with. Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial.

Then, the gospel writer Luke shows the disciples what that prayer looks like. Luke has Jesus tell a story of a relationship. There is a person who needs some food for a visitor, even though the visitor arrives in the middle of the night. That person goes to the door of his friend, maybe his neighbor, and knocks on the door in the middle of the night and asks for some bread. The friend sounds mightily irritated to be awoken in the middle of the night, but the story suggests that he did in fact after a little convincing, give over the bread. Prayer is about relationship, and prayer is about sharing bread. Sometimes those who practice a life of prayer are accused of doing nothing. But prayer is not doing nothing, indeed, prayer is doing what needs to be done.

And then what we hear from Luke this morning is about boldness. What we have before us is not just the so familiar words we pray as the Lord’s Prayer, but we have those words in the context of relationship and bread and boldness. Ask, search, knock. Jesus' instruction invites trust and boldness, ask, search, knock, confident that you will receive what you ask. There is no one among us listening who would give a snake or a scorpion to a beseeching child, so how then, Jesus implies, can we not trust that God as divine parent will give us all that we need, including and especially the Holy Spirit?

Jesus seems most interested, at this point, in an invitation to a relationship rather than an explanation about the technique of prayer. Prayer is not a list, but a relationship. In this passage Jesus invites us into relationship with God through prayer, offering us the opportunity to approach the God whose name is too holy to speak and whose countenance too terrible to behold with the familiarity, boldness, and trust of a young child running to her parent for both provision and protection.

I do think that we tend to get caught up in all sorts of questions about prayer. How do we pray? What do we pray for? And the big ones, does God answer prayer and does prayer change God? Just as Jesus gave the disciples words to pray with, we Episcopalians have all sorts of beautiful prayers that have been handed to us through generations of the faithful in our Book of Common Prayer, and we have wonderful new prayers that broaden our imaginations. However we are a little bit challenged by extemporaneous prayer. We tend to be formed as people of well thought out and constructed prayer. We tend to rely on the beautiful words of those who came before us. When we are wordless, when the feeling we have is so awesome, so fearful, so sad, so joyful that we are left wordless, speechless, these prayers of our people can lift us up and carry us along.

And there are times, like Anne Lamott writes in a book called Traveling Mercies, that our two best prayers are, "help me, help me, help me" and "thank you, thank you, thank you." Like Anne Lamott suggests, spontaneous prayer comes without thinking. We pray like that all the time.

The point of all of this is that prayer is the work we do in building our end of the relationship we have with God. That relationship is both personal and corporate. Each of us engages the relationship in a very personal way, and need to discover a personal prayer life that is intentional, spirit filled and nurturing. There are myriad ways to grow our personal prayer; one size does not fit all. Personal prayer even changes over time, depending on where and when life takes us.

It’s only in the last few years I have been able to sit in quiet prayer. With young children, trying to find quiet time was near impossible, and if I tried to be quiet to begin my day, before anyone else was awake, I just fell asleep again. I also needed to exercise, so I did that early in the morning while everyone else was still asleep, and I learned that I could combine prayer and exercise. That is a discipline I continue even though small children have become large. But I have also found that I can spend some time now in quiet prayer, without fidgeting and without falling asleep, most of the time.

We also engage our relationship with God in a corporate way. We gather together in prayer, in fact that is who we are as Episcopalians, people who share common prayer. We sing together, we have silence together, we say our prayers together, we read and hear scripture together, we eat together, and together we are sent out into the world to continue the work God has given us to do.

Bottom line though, is that prayer is a relationship, and a relationship must be worked at, it can’t be taken for granted or set aside, or it will fail. This relationship with God has at its foundation good faith and reciprocal love. It is a relationship that is transformative. "I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time- waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God- it changes me," writes C.S. Lewis. Prayer is really much more about us than about God. Prayer is about our overflowing need to know our creator, and to be known by our creator.

And yet I speak of boldness in prayer. How do we speak of boldness in this relationship with God? Especially when in our ears we hear, blessed are the meek for they will inherit the earth. How do we speak of asking for what we want, when it seems like God should already know that. Ask, search, knock. I think being bold and courageous in our prayer makes us clearer about what we are asking. I think being bold and courageous in prayer makes us discern what it is we really need. As we are bold in prayer, who we need to be, what we need to do, whom we need to serve, begins to dawn on us like a beautiful mountain sunrise. A sunrise that illuminates all else.

And I know that God always responds to prayer. Often that response is, no Kathy, not now, not ever. Sometimes that response is a surprise to me. I, in my infinite wisdom, would not do it the same way God does it. C.S. Lewis has also written, “There are two kinds of people: those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, "All right, then, have it your way."”

Does prayer really work? I turn to Barbara Brown Taylor, a wonderful preacher and writer, in her collection Home by another way. She says about prayer, "It keeps our hearts chasing after God’s heart. It’s how we bother God, and it’s how God bothers us back. There’s nothing that works any better than that.”

Be bold, be courageous in your prayer and your relationship with God. And then do, do the thing, love, forgive, heal, feed, do the thing your prayer asks. You are the change you ask for.

Amen.

1 Lent Yr C Feb 14 2016

1 Lent Yr C Feb 14 2016 Audio

So he stands by the refrigerator, with the door open, looking inside, and says, I'm starving, there's nothing to eat. Then he goes to the kitchen cupboard, opens the door, and declares again, I'm starving, there's nothing to eat. I go to the grocery store, stock up on everything I think he likes to eat, get it all home, and there's still nothing to eat. He eats a delicious meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and an hour later says, I'm starving, what is there to eat. Some of you have been there done that, for others, if you don't know what that's like yet, you will. 

And then there's that late afternoon grumbling in your tummy, and if you go too long you get a little light headed and maybe even ornery. What luxury we live in, every one of us is pretty sure we won't go for more than a few hours before our next meal. What a bunch of first world problems.

In this story, Jesus has been in the wilderness for a very long time, and I would imagine he is hungry, tired, stinky, and snarky. Forty days is significant as it is a signal to us of the forty years that the Israelites wandered in the wilderness. Remember that story? Moses led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, and in the wilderness they began to distrust Moses, they began to distrust God, they began to whine about the food, the living conditions, the weather. But who wouldn't, right? After forty years and another generation, who wouldn't lose hope? After years of oppression, who wouldn't lose hope? After years of being mistreated, who wouldn't lose hope? 

That's what The Devil is counting on in this story from Luke. The Devil is counting on Jesus having lost hope and trust in God. The Devil is counting on Jesus believing that God just does not care. Each one of the suggestions The Devil has for Jesus names the temptation to give up on God, to come to believe that God is not sufficient to meet one's needs. It's not really about right and wrong, Jesus' decisions are not really black and white. So while Jesus is incredibly hungry, even if he had some survival skills, eating bugs for forty days, one would think he's ready to deal. The Devil says to Jesus, just have something to eat, you know how hungry you are. Which one of us wouldn't want a good loaf of bread? Then The Devil says to Jesus, you can have all the power and authority in the world, just think what you could do with that. This could all be yours. Just think what good you could do with it. And lastly, after The Devil may be getting somewhat frustrated, he says to Jesus, just test that God of yours now, just see if he'll whisk you out of death if you throw yourself off this cliff. 

You see, The Devil's proposals are just like the promises of the world, and they look so attractive. You will be filled and fulfilled, you will have power and prestige, you will have immortality. It is so seductive. It is so tempting. We don't even know it's happening. But when the pills, or the promiscuity, or the power, don't deliver the goods, we tend to continue to look further for fulfillment by increasing the frenetic pace of finding something that will make us happy. It is that inferno into which our hope, our happiness, our joy, get sucked. Thus, the expression, it sucks. The Devil counts on us giving up too, the Devil counts on us losing hope. and we may be so caught in the cycle of trying to make ourselves happy, that we give up without ever knowing we've given up.

But, even when we give up hope, even when we give up on God, even when we give in to the glitter and glitz the world offers us, God never gives up on us. Love does indeed win. That's what so amazing about God. No matter what, God does not give up on us. That is what this story is about, that is what this story we hear all the way through Lent tells us. It's not an easy story to hear, there's heartbreak and death, but there's also healing and new life. 

Jesus experiences his relationship with God through the stories in sacred scripture. Jesus knows those sacred stories well, and in them hears God's love, he hears hope and healing and health. You see, this thing we do with God is not transactional. Though we do want it to be that way. God, if you pull me out of this mess I've gotten myself into, I will be a better person, I will go to church every Sunday. But isn't that the very same thing The Devil is doing? 

This thing God does with creation is not transactional, it is relational. The Devil wants us to think it's transactional, that it's about bargaining with God. That's where those temptations from The Devil come from. The Devil says to Jesus, if you turn these stones into bread, if you take this power and authority, if you jump off this cliff, then I will give this all to you. With The Devil it is transactional, with God it is relational, and at the center of that relationship is the Love that wins. 

  

The relationship calls us to turn away from or set aside or leave behind all that is killing us and turn back to God. As we hear that call, and as we set aside the stuff that gets in our way, as we lay down our own heartbreak, and as we fall to our knees, we realize we are already forgiven. We realize Love and Hope and Joy have never been absent from us, we've just had our backs turned, we've had our hearts hardened. We realize that we are washed in the reality and love of God.

And as we begin to live the new life that is gift, it dawns on us that we must respond to God's love. It dawns on us that there is pain and suffering and injustice in our world, and the new life that is God's gift really isn't about any one of us anyway. 

We can respond to God's love with prayer, we listen to God and God's movement in our lives. That's what relationship is all about. We can respond to God's love by fasting from that which keeps the relationship from flourishing. We can respond to God's love by giving our love, our wealth, our time. Prayer, fasting, almsgiving are ancient practices that give life to our relationship with God. Prayer, fasting, almsgiving are ancient practices that enact God's love, God's justice, in our world. Prayer, fasting, almsgiving are ancient practices that remind us that God always has hope and faith in us. Prayer, fasting, almsgiving are ancient practices that show that Love wins.

22 Sunday after Pentecost Yr C Proper 24 Oct 20 2013

Here's another parable, and they sure don't get any easier. Every time we hear a parable, we ask ourselves again, what is this really about? What is the kingdom of God like? What does this show us about God? And, there never is just one answer to any of these questions when we hear a parable, there are multiple answers and multiple levels. In this parable today, I want to consider one possibility.  I think this parable is not about God being like the judge, but much more like God being like the persistent widow. I think this parable is about God's hearts' desire to be in relationship with you and me. 

At the center of the relationship with God is prayer. That is what this parable is about. Jesus is telling the people who have gathered to listen to him, to pray always and not to loose heart. Prayer is one way God communicates with us. Sometimes people wonder about prayer and what good it does. Sometimes people are frustrated because God doesn't seem to answer prayer, or the answer is not the one we want. When the answer isn't the one we want, we decide God isn't listening, or God isn't even there. The problem is that somehow we've gotten it into our heads that God is transactional instead of relational. God, if you rescue me out of this situation, then I'll go to church every Sunday. God, if you get me this great job, then I'll give all this money to those less fortunate than I. God, if you do this, then I'll do that. Transactional, it's a deal God, I'll hold up my end of the bargain if you hold up yours. Who wants a God who's only interested in a transaction and deal making? No wonder there are so many atheists, so many "spiritual but not religious." If that was the God I had to believe in, I'd turn and run too. God's hearts' desire is to be in relationship with you and me, not to be the back end of a bargain.

Prayer involves words, prayer involves silence, prayer involves posture, prayer really involves our entire being. And prayer involves relationship. There are times when you think you pray on your own. When I am out walking and getting my exercise in the mornings, I incorporate my personal prayer. And there are times we pray in a group. Sometimes we all say the same words together, sometimes we make space to deposit our own words, sometimes we make silence so that we may just listen. Sometimes we sing our words, some may even dance their prayers. But all of this prayer is born of relationship. Even when I think I make my prayer alone, it is born of the place and the time and the creation in which I find myself. Prayer is one way that makes it possible for God to get ahold of us. And God's hearts desire is to be involved in our lives, and our loves, and our sadness and our grief. 

And yet, there are times we cannot pray, it is at those times we trust that someone is praying on our behalf, carrying God's hearts desire to be with us to us. You do that all the time when you pray for someone else. My favorite author, Madeleine L'engle tells a story about a near fatal car accident in which she was involved. She lay in the hospital for days and weeks afterward, and she says she could no longer pray, the only thing that kept her alive was the knowledge and trust that others prayed on her behalf, and in there somewhere, the seed of hope bloomed, and she remembered God's love for her, and was re-membered in God's relationship.

So this story may be a story about praying always, and about persistence and hope, but I think it is a story about God's persistence and hope. I think it is about a God who just will not let us alone no matter how much noise and movement and busy-ness we create in our lives to drown out God's voice. Maybe it is us who, even though we fail to fear God or care about people, are finally worn down by the persistence of a God who longs for justice, a God who yearns to love us completely and absolutely. 

It is this that makes it so hard for me to hear about those who call themselves "spiritual but not religious." The relationship that God yearns for is not a solitary relationship. Individualism is not a value in the sacred story. Being successful all by yourself is unheard of in the stories in scripture. The very essence of God is relational. God's relationship with us and all of creation is God's very being. And God persists, God keeps coming to us, God never gives up on us, God's love wins. 

And as we pray, we become more connected to God, and we become more connected to one another. We become connected to God and to one another in our joys and in our sufferings. And sometimes that is hard, and sometimes that hurts. But the more you see suffering and injustice around you, the more you pray, and the more you pray the more connected you are to that suffering, and the more connected you are to that suffering the more connected you are to the crucified and risen Christ. You can't very well look into the eyes of those around you who are in great need and do nothing. We create connections among us, prayer connections that link us together forever and always. These are the connections that begin to put us back together and make us whole. These are the connections that begin to result in healing, and forgiveness. And isn't that often what it is we pray for? 

So church, pray without ceasing and do not lose heart. For God has work to do through you and among you. Amen

1 Lent Yr C Feb 17 2013

So he stands by the refrigerator, with the door open, looking inside, and says, I'm starving, there's nothing to eat. Then he goes to the kitchen cupboard, opens the door, and declares again, I'm starving, there's nothing to eat. I go to the grocery store, stock up on everything I think he likes to eat, get it all home, and there's still nothing to eat. He eats a delicious meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and an hour later says, I'm starving, what is there to eat. Some of you have been there done that, for others, if you don't know what that's like yet, you will.

And then there's that late afternoon grumbling in your tummy, and if you go too long you get a little light headed and maybe even ornery. What luxury we live in, every one of us is pretty sure we won't go for more than a few hours before our next meal. What a bunch of first world problems.

In this story, Jesus has been in the wilderness for a very long time, and I would imagine he is hungry, tired, and stinky. Forty days is significant as it is a signal to us of the forty years that the Israelites wandered in the wilderness. Remember that story? Moses led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, and in the wilderness they began to distrust Moses, they began to distrust God, they began to whine about the food, the living conditions, the weather. But who wouldn't, right? After forty years and another generation, who wouldn't lose hope? After years of oppression, who wouldn't lose hope? After years of being mistreated, who wouldn't lose hope?

That's what The Devil is counting on in this story from Luke. The Devil is counting on Jesus having lost hope and trust in God. The Devil is counting on Jesus believing that God just does not care. Each one of the suggestions The Devil has for Jesus, names the temptation to give up on God, to come to believe that God is not sufficient to meet one's needs. It's not really about right and wrong, Jesus' decisions are not really black and white. So while Jesus is incredibly hungry, even if he had some survival skills, eating bugs for forty days, one would think he's ready to deal. The Devil says to Jesus, just have something to eat, you know how hungry you are. Which one of us wouldn't want a good loaf of bread? Then The Devil says to Jesus, you can have all the power and authority in the world, just think what you could do with that. This could all be yours. And lastly, after The Devil may be getting somewhat frustrated, he says to Jesus, just test that God of yours now, just see if he'll whisk you out of death if you throw yourself off this cliff.

You see, The Devil's proposals are just like the promises of the world, and they look so attractive. You will be filled and fulfilled, you will have power and prestige, you will have immortality. It is so seductive. It is so tempting. We don't even know it's happening. But when the pills, or the promiscuity, or the power, don't deliver the goods, we tend to continue to look further for fulfillment by increasing the frenetic pace of finding something that will make us happy. It is that inferno into which our hope, our happiness, our joy, get sucked. Thus, the expression, it sucks. And, we may give up, or we may be so caught in the cycle of trying to make ourselves happy, that we give up without ever knowing we've given up.

But, even when we give up hope, even when we give up on God, even when we give in to the glitter and glitz the world offers us, God never gives up on us. Love does indeed win. That's what so amazing about God. No matter what, God does not give up on us. That is what this story is about, that is what this story we hear all the way through Lent tells us. It's not an easy story to hear, there's heartbreak and death, but there's also healing and new life.

Jesus experiences his relationship with God through the stories in sacred scripture. Jesus knows those sacred stories well, and in them hears God's love, he hears hope and healing and health. You see, this thing we do with God is not transactional. Though we do want it to be that way. God, if you pull me out of this mess I've gotten myself into, I will go to church every Sunday. But isn't that the very same thing The Devil is doing? This thing God does with creation is not transactional, it is relational. The Devil wants us to think it's transactional, that it's about bargaining with God. That's where those temptations from The Devil come from. The Devil says to Jesus, if you turn these stones into bread, if you take this power and authority, if you jump off this cliff, then I will give this all to you. With The Devil it is transactional, with God it is relational, and at the center of that relationship is the Love that wins.

The relationship call's us to turn away from all that is killing us and turn back to God. As we hear that call, and as we lay down our burdens, as we lay down our own heartbreak, and as we fall to our knees, we realize we are already forgiven. We realize Love and Hope and Joy have never been absent from us, we've just had our backs turned, we've had our hearts hardened.

And as we begin to live the new life that is gift, it dawns on us that we must respond to God's love. It dawns on us that there is pain and suffering and injustice in our world, and the new life that is God's gift really isn't about any one of us anyway. We can respond to God's love with prayer, we listen to God and God's movement in our lives. That's what relationship is all about. We can respond to God's love by fasting from that which keeps the relationship from flourishing. We can respond to God's love by giving our love, our wealth, our time. Prayer, fasting, almsgiving are ancient practices that give life to our relationship with God. Prayer, fasting, almsgiving are ancient practices that enact God's love, God's justice, in our world. Prayer, fasting, almsgiving are ancient practices that remind us that God is always has hope and faith in us. Prayer, fasting, almsgiving are ancient practices that show that Love wins.

9 Pentecost Yr C

Jesus was praying, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, Lord, teach us to pray. Jesus responded in three ways. First, Jesus gave the disciples words to pray with. Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial. Then, the gospel writer Luke has Jesus tell a story of a relationship. There is a person who needs some food for a visitor, even though the visitor arrives in the middle of the night. That person goes to the door of his friend, maybe his neighbor, and knocks on the door in the middle of the night and asks for some bread. The friend sounds mightily irritated to be awoken in the middle of the night, but the story suggests that he did in fact after a little convincing, give over the bread. And then what we hear from Luke this morning is about boldness. What we have before us is not just the so familiar words we pray as the Lord’s Prayer, but we have those words in the context of relationship and boldness. Ask, search, knock. Jesus' instruction invites trust and boldness, ask, search, knock, confident that you will receive what you ask. There is no one among us listening who would give a snake or a scorpion to a beseeching child, so how then, Jesus implies, can we not trust that God as divine parent will give us all that we need, including and especially the Holy Spirit?

Jesus seems most interested, at this point, in an invitation to a relationship than an explanation about the technique of prayer. Prayer is not a list, but a relationship. In this passage Jesus invites us into relationship with God through prayer, offering us the opportunity to approach the God whose name is too holy to speak and whose countenance too terrible to behold with the familiarity, boldness, and trust of a young child running to her parent for both provision and protection.

I do think that we tend to get caught up in all sorts of questions about prayer. How do we pray? What do we pray for? And the big ones, does God answer prayer and does prayer change God? Just as Jesus gave the disciples words to pray with, we Episcopalians have all sorts of beautiful prayers that have been handed to us through generations of the faithful, and we have wonderful new prayers that broaden our imaginations. However we are a little bit challenged by extemporaneous prayer. We tend to be formed as people of well thought out and constructed prayer. We tend to rely on the beautiful words of those who came before us. When we are wordless, when the feeling we have is so awesome, so fearful, so sad, so joyful that we are left wordless, speechless, these prayers of our people can lift us up and carry us along.

And there are times, like Anne Lamott writes in Traveling Mercies that our two best prayers are, help me, help me, help me and thank you, thank you, thank you. Like Anne Lamott suggests, spontaneous prayer comes without thinking. We pray like that all the time. Articulating those spontaneous prayers is harder for us just because we don’t have much practice doing it.

The point of all of this is that prayer is the work we do in building our end of the relationship we have with God. That relationship is both personal and corporate. Each of us engages the relationship in a very personal way, and need to discover a personal prayer life that is intentional, spirit filled and nurturing. There are myriad ways to grow our personal prayer; one size does not fit all. Personal prayer even changes over time, depending on where and when life takes us. It’s only in the last few years I have been able to sit in quiet prayer. With young children, trying to find quiet time was near impossible, and if I tried to be quiet to begin my day, before anyone else was awake, I just fell asleep again. I also needed to exercise, so I did that early in the morning while everyone else was still asleep, and I learned that I could combine prayer and exercise. That is a discipline I continue even though small children have become large. But I have also found, with some practice that I can spend some time now in quiet prayer, without fidgeting and without falling asleep, most of the time.

We also engage our relationship with God in a corporate way. We gather together in prayer, in fact that is who we are as Episcopalians, people who share common prayer. We sing together, we have silence together, we say our prayers together, we read and hear scripture together, we eat together, and together we are sent out into the world to continue the work God has given us to do.

Bottom line though, is that prayer is a relationship, and a relationship must be worked at, it can’t be taken for granted or set aside, or it will fail. This relationship with God has at its foundation good faith and reciprocal love. It is a relationship that is transformative. "I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time- waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God- it changes me," writes C.S. Lewis. Prayer is really much more about us than about God. Prayer is about our overflowing need to know our creator, and to be known by our creator.

And yet I speak of boldness in prayer. How do we speak of boldness in this relationship with God? Especially when in our ears we hear, blessed are the meek for they will inherit the earth. How do we speak of asking for what we want, when it seems like God should already know that. Ask, search, knock. I think being bold in our prayer makes us clearer about what we are asking. I think being bold in prayer makes us discern what it is we really may want or need. As we are bold in prayer, who we need to be, what we need to do, whom we need to serve, begins to dawn on us like a beautiful mountain sunrise. A sunrise that illuminates all else.

And I know that God always responds to prayer. Often that response is, no Kathy, not now, not ever. Sometimes that response is a surprise to me. I, in my infinite wisdom, would not do it the same way God does it. C.S. Lewis has also written, “There are two kinds of people: those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, "All right, then, have it your way."”

Does prayer really work? I turn to Barbara Brown Taylor, a wonderful preacher and writer, in her collection Home by another way. She says about a young child, “I want her to believe in a God who loves her and listens to her, but in that case I will need some explanation for why it does not always seem that way.” Barbara Brown Taylor continues, “One day, when Madeline asks me outright whether prayer really works, I am going to say, ‘Oh, sweetie, of course it does. It keeps our hearts chasing after God’s heart. It’s how we bother God, and it’s how God bothers us back. There’s nothing that works any better than that.”

Amen.