21 Pentecost Yr B

We take up with the gospel of Mark again in the shadow of Jerusalem, on the way to the cross. This story of the blind Bartimaeus is the last story of Jesus’ ministry, before the cross and the passion. It is a story of call, healing, and discipleship. I recently suggested that I think Jesus must be an Episcopalian, he keeps telling those he healed not to tell anyone, not much good for evangelism. Well this time, I think the characters in this story must be Episcopalian. There Bartimaeus sits on the side of the road, probably with many other beggars near the gate of the city, where beggars were wont to sit. When Bartimaeus hears that Jesus was in the house, he shouts and says, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” This is where I’m sure there were Episcopalians on that road, many sternly ordered him to be quiet. Bartimaeus’ declaration and claim that Jesus is Son of David may have something to teach us all.

Call him here. A short sentence and a clear command to call the man. And so they do. They tell him that Jesus is calling him. Bartimaeus leaps up and throws off his cloak with which he begged, and came to Jesus. Jesus’ question of Bartimaeus is the same question that Jesus asked James and John only a moment ago. "What do you want me to do for you?" But the contrast between the request of James and John and Bartimaeus is telling. James and John ask for power, Bartimaeus asks for sight. Call, healing, and discipleship. Very unlike the power and status that James and John were all about, and Bartimaeus wasn’t even a so called disciple.

Jesus called the disciples, Jesus said to them, come, follow me, and they did, they left everything to follow Jesus. We do need to give them credit for that. The difference I believe is in what follows. It seems the healing; the transformation of James and John was a bit long in coming, not unlike most, if not many of us. It takes time to be changed by God’s amazing and abundant love. For most of us that doesn’t happen immediately, it happens gradually. I’ve spoken in recent weeks about the importance of examining what it is that makes us fat, what barriers we set up in our relationship with God, with ourselves and with others, what burdens we need to set down so that we may follow God’s love in Jesus Christ. We are much more like James and John than we are like Bartimaeus. For many of us, our blindness is not immediately noticeable to others, unlike Bartimaeus whose blindness was obvious. Our hurts and pains are buried deep and wide, and instead of being healed, like Bartimaeus, we look to taking power and control, like James and John. The call to Jesus is to also open ourselves up, to reduce our baggage, to lay our burdens down, it’s hard to hear the call when we can’t listen, it’s hard to follow when what we carry is so heavy, it’s hard to move when we’ve built our sturdy wall.

Being healed changed Bartimaeus’ life completely. There’s some good and some not so good about being healed. The good part for Bartimaeus was being restored to the community. As a blind man in that culture he was outcast, on the margins, unseen by any who walked by him on that road, his work was begging. As a man restored to society, he had to get a job. There is risk involved in being healed. There is risk involved in transformation. Life will never, can never be the same. Out of what seems like death comes resurrection. We cling so desperately to that which we believe is our identity, that which we have defined ourselves by. Letting go of what we believe defines us to take on our true identity may hurt and is hard. But unless and until we let die what is killing us, we can never be healed, we will never be transformed into the new person in Christ that gives new life. The Good News is that when we do let die what is killing us, there will be new life in ways we can hardly begin to imagine.

Bartimaeus regained his sight and followed Jesus on the way. The way at this point is to the cross, which is where the rest of the story takes place. Call, healing, discipleship. Not easy, no more business as usual, always death before resurrection. Discipleship, following Jesus on the way, to the cross, all the way to resurrection, is not about gaining or wielding power and status, and it is not about pain and suffering for suffering sake, or for the sake of martyrdom, but is about embracing this life with all it entails. It is as much about joy, thanksgiving and gratitude, as it is about pain, suffering and tragedy. It is about our God’s willingness to be with us in the middle of it all, which is very different than the gods the 1st century Mediterranean people told each other about, those were gods who were trying to get out of this life, who were trying to be immortal and powerful, not to be in the mess and the joy with humanity.

Bartimaeus is called, healed, and in faith follows Jesus. Had Bartimaeus known what lie ahead for Jesus and for the rest of the followers, they might have bailed, who knows. The journey to and through the cross is as difficult as it is exhilarating, discipleship is not for the feint of heart. It was only a very short period of time between Bartimaeus being healed, being restored to the community, and Jesus’ passion, suffering, death and resurrection. Bartimaeus could easily have it wasn’t worth it, why bother, what happened to the reward, where’s the power and status in all this.

So discipleship as Bartimaeus shows us is not about the reward, it is about the journey. It is about being accompanied by Jesus on the road, it is about accompanying others on the journey, it is about seeing, seeing, the grace, the joy, the wonder, in all that life throws at us, because we know. We know that resurrection happens. We know that life always wins over death. We know that we are part of resurrection. There is hope. There is hope.

Discipleship, following Jesus, is not about having the right answers; it’s not about being perfect. Discipleship is seeing healing right in front of us; discipleship is seeing the divine in one another and joining with one another in the journey. Discipleship is being transformed, being changed; becoming the creation that God calls us to be. Discipleship is answering yes to God’s call to come, even when the road ahead seems treacherous. Discipleship is faith like Bartimaeus’.

Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness, Come let us adore him.

20 Pentecost Yr B

When you go to see a play, usually you watch the whole play at once. It’s not usual to see a bit of it, then come back once each week to see a little bit more. But that’s the odd thing that’s happening as we read the gospel of Mark. It’s really much like a play, and intended to be read or performed all at once, and yet we hear just a very small portion of it each week. If you remember last spring, a group of people gathered on a Saturday to read the whole thing, as it was intended. And Marty tells me the Education for Ministry group will watch a telling of the Gospel of Mark at their Tuesday night meeting.

The challenge as we hear Mark, is to get ourselves back in the action. It’s like setting your novel down and when you come back to it you need to remind yourself of what you’ve already read. The writer of Mark is telling us a story about an event that radically changes the way we look at and experience the world; there is actually excitement in every word. The Good News that Mark is telling is that God is here right now, actively seeking to help us in the way we most need help.

This is Good News indeed, and it is not the experience of those who were the original hearers of the story. Those original hearers were well versed in the gods who fought one another for dominance, gods who were precocious and pernicious, gods who were at various stages of mortal trying to be immortal. This God of the Jews, who now is interested in being the God of everyone, was compassionate, and passionate to be in relationship with each and every one of us and all of creation. This story that Mark tells is told in a milieu of competing stories. A question brought to this gospel; is this story is sufficient to bear the weight of meaning?

We have heard the story of Jesus’ baptism, his sojourn in the wilderness as he was tested by Satan. We have listened to the testimony of Jesus’ public ministry, and the growth of the relationship between him and the disciples. Last week we heard about the rich young man who could not rise to the challenge of reorienting his life to the new kingdom, which brings us to where we find ourselves today, sandwiched between Jesus’ ministry and the passion to come. We are on our way to Jerusalem and the cross with Jesus. As you continue to listen to this story always remember that it is being told, as every story is told, after it has happened, and with the clear purpose of engendering change in the hearer.

James and John, Zebedee’s sons, came up to Jesus. “Teacher, we have something we want you to do for us.” Jesus answers, “What is it? I’ll see what I can do.” And they respond, “Arrange it so that we will be awarded the highest places of honor in your glory—one of us at your right, the other at your left.” What arrogance, Jesus, just give us what we want, we’re better than all the rest anyway. James and John are not only full of themselves; they haven’t a clue what they’re asking. You and I know what’s next because we’ve heard the story before; we know that next Jesus will go to the cross. Jesus is asking James and John to accompany him on that journey, Jesus is asking us to accompany him on that journey. Jesus will suffer and die, again, it’s not about honor and status, it’s about something else entirely.

The question is is that something else sufficient to bear the meaning of our lives? Is that something else that Jesus is all about worth the change, the transformation that is effected in our lives when we give ourselves over to God’s abundant and amazing love, God’s grace. It is right here, “for the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and to live his life as a ransom for many.” This isn’t about morality, it isn’t about being right or being wrong, it isn’t about being favored or not favored. It is about God, it is about God’s grace, it is about God’s abundant and amazing love, it is about God’s compassion and passion that frees us to be lovers and to be loved. Is God’s love, grace, and therefore forgiveness sufficient to bear the meaning of our lives? I say it is.

You see, you and I have a choice. There are many stories that compete to order our lives. And we live ordered by many stories. As Americans, one story that orders us is capitalism, goods and services are traded and some make a profit, some don’t. There is the story that says, this is MY planet, and I can use it up in any way I like. And another one, I work hard for what I've got; I deserve it. There is the story of rugged individualism. There are stories that order us depending on gender, race, socio-economic status, family make up, and all these stories cooperate and compete for meaning in our lives, they are not necessarily good or bad stories, that’s not the question, the question is are any of these stories capable of bearing the weight of love, sin, sadness, tragedy, compassion and forgiveness.

This story that we have before us today, the Good News of Jesus Christ, can bear that weight. Jesus says, it’s not about you, it’s not about what you have, it’s not about your honor or status, it’s not about rulers or power; it’s not about any of that. It is about the reality of pain and suffering and tragedy. All of those other stories crumble under the weight of the reality of our lives. It is about a God who loves us, and is willing to be with us in the midst of the pain and suffering and tragedy. It is about reorienting our lives so that we no longer live as slaves to our hurts, our anger and resentment and pain, but instead we live in freedom to love as we have been loved. It is about a God by whom our pain and suffering can be transformed into compassion and love. It is about a God of healing and grace. It is about a God of joy and compassion.

This is a story that is about all of us. It is a story in which any one of us can and does participate.

When we live our lives according to this story, two things happen. We are transformed, and we become agents of transformation, one is not before the other, these things live in us at the same time. The reality of love, grace, and forgiveness transforms us and we become people of love, grace and forgiveness. As we are this people of love, grace, and forgiveness, others hear the story of our lives and the story of the Good News, as we become agents of God’s love in the world.

So what does it look like to live a transformed life and a transforming life, one that is empowered by this story of Jesus’ life, suffering and death, and resurrection, one that is empowered by this story of freedom to serve? It means that you are the one to look for healing and reconciliation in a family dissolved by each members need to be right instead of loving. It means that you are the one to look for respect and dignity in a work place that undervalues and disempowers the workers. It means that in a community that judges because of race or status, you are the one to look beyond hatefulness to healing and reconciliation. It means that in a church that professes love for God and for others, you are the one who actively seeks out your neighbor to say I’m sorry and make amends. It means that in a church that professes love for God and for others, you are the one who puts aside your need to be right, so that everyone can have a place at the table. The life of transformation looks like you.

Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness: Come let us adore him.

19 Pentecost Yr B

Being that the Twins are in the playoffs, I thought I’d begin with a baseball joke. Hank and Frank were baseball buddies. They were the biggest fans in the whole U.S. Both were stars on the St. Swithins Episcopal Church team, the Faith Lutheran team, just in case, and coached the little boys T-ball for the elementary school team. The guys made an agreement between them that whoever died first would try to come back and report on whether or not there was baseball in heaven. Hank died first, and as he promised, came to Frank as in a dream. “Frank, Frank,” Hank whispered into his buddy’s ear, “I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news. The good news is that there is baseball in heaven.” “And the bad news?” Frank asked. “You’re pitching tomorrow night!”

We make a mistake when we think this gospel story in Mark is about the reward at the end of life. What must I do to inherit eternal life seems like a question about what happens next. But life is not about the reward at the end; life is about now. The Kingdom is now, Jesus inaugurated the kingdom, Jesus is the first-born of the kingdom, we are citizens of the kingdom, now. That’s what the whole life, death and resurrection story is about. The question is not about what happens after life; the question is about participating in God’s kingdom now. The question is about who we are and how we behave as those who God loves abundantly and absolutely. The answer is difficult, as the young man discovers, so difficult that he turns away from it. The answer is about being lean and thin. You gotta to be pretty darn thin to get through the eye of a needle.

The kingdom is about being exactly who you were created to be, no more, no less. You were created to be a lover, and you were created to be loved. Not a lot of extra weight on that, and I know a thing or two about extra weight. This is about being lean. Sometimes we’ve looked at this passage and decided it was all about divesting ourselves of our wealth, a rich man cannot get in but a poor man can. There is an issue of wealth here, but I don’t think it’s just about wealth. I don’t think it’s about sacrifice or how much you give. I think it’s about being found by God, and about living right now as a grace filled child of God. I think it is about the power God gives us to live fully alive. And some in our tradition call that salvation.

Jesus was talking about being lean when he said to this young man it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God. God loves you, abundantly and absolutely. But you need to be thin; you need to be lean. You need to put yourself in God’s presence, you need to divest yourself of all that which makes you fat. And you need to give up trying to buy the kingdom, or eternal life, or whatever people want to call it, and you need to place yourself squarely in God’s presence.

The kingdom can’t be bought, it can’t be bought with your time, it can’t be bought with your money, it can’t be bought with your life. That’s already happened, that’s already been done for you, Jesus already did that on your behalf. In response, your job is twofold. Your job is to divest yourself of all that makes you fat, all that puts extra barriers around you to keep you from being fully in God’s presence and abundant and absolute love. After that, you need to turn to the question of the relationship of worship and ethics.

What barriers do you set up that keep you from being fully receptive to God, to God’s grace and abundant and absolute love? What keeps you from being lean? For the young man in the story today, it was power and status. The young man followed the commandments, but Jesus asked more of him. Jesus loved him, and asked him to divest himself of power and status, the wealth that defined him. The young man could not do it. In 1st century Mediterranean culture, power and status were a hot commodity. His very being was defined by his power and status, not unlike our present culture. To divest himself of that was to reorient himself to the kingdom, and he was not willing. This young man was missing out on living the new life that Jesus offered him.

What are your barriers? What gives you false security? What role do your possessions play in your life? What provides false confidence in your life? What hurts do you live out of and hang on to that are barriers to you being fully receptive to God? What resentments do you hang on to, what revenge do you seek? All of these are barriers to being fully receptive to God’s love and grace, to salvation.

Secondly, how are worship and ethics connected in your life? I love all this we do together on Sunday mornings, and I get to do it all again on Wednesday mornings and sometimes even on Wednesday nights. I love the music that takes me to places just the words cannot. I love the words that connect me to saints past and saints yet to come. I love the actions of breaking bread, gathering shoulder to shoulder to love and support each other as we eat the bread, the mystery that contains the unexplainable, all pointing to the God who loves us, and comes into our lives, the God who feeds us, cares for us, the God who is known and unknowable. But none of that matters without the leanness, without the divestment, without the removal of the barriers and reorientation to the Kingdom. That’s what the first will be last and the last will be first is about; it is about being reoriented to the Kingdom. What we do matters, what we do in community matters, what we do at work matters. Worship needs to reorient us to the kingdom, worship needs to point us out into the world, what we do in the world matters, what we do here together in church matters. Loving one another matters.

I think for many in our culture today the fat is layers of pride and ego. Many are so concerned with being right and marginalizing those who disagree with them, or who are different from them, that they put on layers and layers of fat. I believe it’s better to be loving than right. Compassion and empathy prepare us for that journey through the needle, pride and ego and the need to be right make us fat and prevent us from making it through that small space.

Anne Lamott, author of Traveling Mercies, and Plan “B” said in a recent interview, "I think joy and sweetness and affection are a spiritual path. We're here to know God, to love and serve God, and to be blown away by the beauty and miracle of nature. You just have to get rid of so much baggage to be light enough to dance, to sing, to play. You don't have time to carry grudges; you don't have time to cling to the need to be right.”

Being light enough to dance, to sing, to play, slipping through that needle’s eye, you don’t have to be right, just thin. Live your life as if every moment matters, as if each person is loved by God just as you are. You are a part of the kingdom.

Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness: Come let us adore him.

16 Pentecost Yr B

Joan Conroy stepped in for Mother Kathy this morning. (Kathy is at the Episcopal Seminary of the Southwest this week.)

Pastor Joan shared some thoughts based on today's lessons:

• How can you bless the ordinary?
  
• What kind of things can we do to be like salt?
  
• Look around.... Who around you are "salty people?"
  When you see someone who is, say a quick "Thank you, God!"
  

She also gave us this verse from Edwin Markham:

He drew a circle that shut me out --
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout
But love and I had the wit to win
We drew a circle that took him in

16 Pentecost Yr B

I’ve seen this wonderful card in a few different places, it’s a picture of a 50’s wife opening her oven door, you can almost smell the amazing baked goods that you can see in the oven, it’s an idyllic sight. However, the caption on the picture reads, I don’t know what she’s doing either. Must be some kind of ancient housewife ritual. This is the image the reading from Proverbs stirs up in me today. I actually am not going to take much time talking about Proverbs, but after hearing it read, I want to talk a little about Wisdom in general, rather than this passage in particular.

Remember, we’ve been hearing from wisdom literature for some weeks now, and I did talk about it a few weeks back. I commented then that Wisdom in scripture is not just about being wise as opposed to being foolish. But that God has built wisdom into the fabric of the cosmos. And we learn from wisdom that there are certain ways of living in which people thrive, and other ways of living which lead people to death. Ordering your life to Wisdom is what we read about in these scripture passages, in Proverbs as well as in James. In James, Wisdom is that which connects us to the divine, and that connection presents humanity with a different kind of community, the kind of community that is ordered to Wisdom, but it is Wisdom that cannot be possessed, Wisdom that is not pursued. This is the kind of wisdom our culture does not value, the wisdom born out of the possibility of being wrong. This is the kind of wisdom that requires fear and trembling before God, the kind of wisdom that allows us to fall on our knees and ask forgiveness when we are wrong.

This is Wisdom that is peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. According to James, this is the community God imagines, and this community is very different from what the first hearers of James imagined as possible. The Greeks had been worshipping Gods that were pretty full of themselves. Recall your Greek mythology, the pantheon of gods who intervened in human history were fickle and always immortal, or trying to be so. And the social world of the 1st century was clearly based on honor, status, and class. The community imagined in James was based on gentleness, mercy and forgiveness that bears fruit.

And it is now we turn to Mark, and the second time Jesus tells the disciples that he would be killed. It seems to me that the disciples in Mark are as far from wise as anyone can get. Jesus tells them that he will be killed, they don’t quite understand, and yet they too afraid to ask him, and, then, instead of offering any sort sympathy, they argue about which one of them is best.

Jesus then describes what this whole servant thing may look like. Jesus says whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me. We often assign sentimentality to this passage, recall the paintings of Jesus and the children, but this passage really isn’t as much sentimental as it is subversive. Remember that children as well as women in 1st century culture and political structure have no status, they are of no account. Jesus is showing us the image of invisible people in society, people who did not have rights, the one’s who are overlooked, the ones used as a commodity, and Jesus is showing us that these are the people that look like him. To be a servant, is to welcome those who look like Jesus, the marginalized, the outsiders, the ones with no power. In the face of Jesus’ death, the disciples are concerned about who is first, and Jesus is concerned about showing the disciples what being a servant looks like.

What does all of this have to do with us? Our society suffers from a debilitating addiction to greatness, not unlike the disciples. Which one is the best is a question that is asked and answered with the unending number of competition reality shows and award shows on television. Seldom is one's popularity based on servanthood. Seldom is honor and status awarded when we order our lives to wisdom, to gentleness. Seldom do we win any awards when we yield to others, when we approach one another with humility.

The Wisdom that is embodied in these stories is that in the midst of all that the world deals us, we are to order our lives to gentleness, to humility, to mercy. We are to welcome those who are like children, the invisible and the overlooked, as if they are the very embodiment of Jesus. We are to be participants in this new community that God imagines.

We debate and we argue while the invisible and the overlooked are starving to death, while the invisible and overlooked are dieing from diseases that could have cures, while the invisible and overlooked are cast away like so much trash. We debate and we argue about who is first and who is last. We debate and we argue about who is right and who is wrong. It doesn’t’ matter. It just doesn’t matter.

The gospel according to one of the great folks in our universe, Garrison Keillor, goes like this. Garrison was recently hospitalized for a stroke, and he writes, two weeks ago, you were waltzing around feeling young and attractive, and now you are the object of Get Well cards and recipient of bouquets of carnations. Rich or poor, young or old, we all face the injustice of life -- it ends too soon, and statistical probability is no comfort. We are all in the same boat, you and me and ex-Gov. Sarah Palin and Congressman Joe Wilson, and wealth and social status do not prevail against disease and injury. And now we must reform our health insurance system so that it reflects our common humanity. It is not decent that people avoid seeking help for want of insurance. It is not decent that people go broke trying to get well. You know it and I know it. Time to fix it.

We all live together on this rock, we are all in the same boat; we are all beloved of God. It’s time to treat people as if they were like Jesus. That’s what Wisdom says.

Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness: Come let us adore him.

15 Pentecost Yr B

This particular passage from Mark is the one that convinces me that Jesus was an Episcopalian. Why else would he tell Peter not to tell anyone about him? It really doesn’t do much for evangelism. Especially since Peter gets it right, he does in fact know who Jesus is. You are the messiah, Peter answers. But despite Jesus’ best efforts to keep it quiet, the community begins to know who Jesus is, and the rest of the story in Mark tells us the ramifications of that. Knowing who Jesus is is risky business, living your life as a follower of Jesus, is risky business.

The question that is asked of Peter however is not asked just of Peter. The translation, as it is the case so often, doesn’t let us really know the original intent. The language used here is the second person plural, maybe better translated, who do y’all say that I am. You see, the question is not directed just at Peter, it is directed at the others that were with Peter, it is directed at the hearers of the gospel of Mark, it is directed at you and me. Who do you say that I am?

Who do you say that I am? This question suggests, no demands, an active response. Where and how do you see God active and incarnate, in the flesh, in our lives and in the live of our church? We must ask this question, and then articulate the response. We must not keep the answer to ourselves, but tell the story of God’s activity in our lives, realizing that doing so is risky business. It is risky business because Jesus teaches that following him is about separating ourselves from that which defines us, in fact giving up what is comfortable and known, for this new society that forms around Jesus.

Who do you say that I am? Where and how do you see Jesus active, incarnate, at work in our world? In your relationships? Through friends sustaining you through difficulty, through illness, through job loss. Through the good that you are able to do and to receive. But then comes the risky part, deny yourself and take up your cross and follow, for those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for Jesus sake will save it.

We make a mistake when we reduce these words to suffering in silence, or taking what comes our way, or even taking abuse at the hands of the one who professes to love. The gospel has been used as a weapon to keep people in their place with this kind of interpretation, but this is not what Jesus was talking about. Jesus was talking about the new creation, Jesus was talking about reorienting the culture as they knew it, Jesus is talking about being the change that makes the world just, Jesus is talking about the kingdom that is God’s love for all of each creation, no exceptions, no exclusions.

The reality in which we live is that there is suffering, tragedy and sadness. Each one of us has experienced that. As a community we experience the sadness and tragedy of job loss, of the loss of a home, and of the loss of health with the possible accompanying financial devastation. We just observed for the eighth year the horrible tragedy of the attack on our country and culture. We look for incarnation, Jesus in our midst, as we try to understand these tragedies. I was watching the news on Friday, and I learned that the first responders of September 11, 2001, have been working on a project each year since then that they call New York Says Thank-you. They were in Des Moines Iowa rebuilding the Boy Scout camp that was devastated by a tornado last year. Many work on making September 11th a National day of service. These are good things, really good things, I do believe that these are times and places that we find incarnation.

But there is more. Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection is about even more than that. It is about breaking bread with outcasts and sinners, healing the sick, and proclaiming good news to the poor. It is about changing the structure of this world to be justified with the rule of God’s kingdom. It is about putting the other first, and ourselves second. It is about speaking truth to power. It is indeed risky business.

Today we will take time to reaffirm our baptismal vows. Our baptismal vows form and shape our answer to the question, who do you say I am? Our baptismal vows form and shape our lives as disciples. Our baptismal vows form and shape your ministry. Our baptismal vows call us to be who we are created to be. When we take our baptismal vows seriously, indeed it is risky business. Most of us were infants when we were baptized, so like Peter and the disciples we come to the realization of who Jesus is and what is asked of us as disciples gradually. When we begin to realize what the life of following Jesus, of discipleship is, many decide to bail, it is indeed risky. You see, we do what we do as followers of Jesus not because of the reward, not because there’s something in it for us, not because somehow we will be relieved of suffering, of pain, or even death. We do what we do because Jesus calls us to be agents of resurrection along with him.

It is risky to step out of this church and be part of the change that reshapes our community. It is risky to be at dinner with your family or friends and to ask, so how have you proclaimed the good news today, or how have you persevered in resisting evil today, or how have you seen Christ today, or how have you respected the dignity of each person you’ve met, today?

Who do you say that I am? We cannot sit by and watch, we must respond. You are Jesus, the one who comes to make the world new, the one who comes to be a voice for the voiceless, the one who comes to turn the tables on the powerful and rich. You are Jesus, the one who comes as God in our midst, mysteriously and unreasonably. You are Jesus, we are your disciples, it is risky business indeed.

Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness: Come let us adore him.

14 Pentecost Yr B Proper 18

Deacon Marty Garwood preaching

Do you ever feel that about the time you get something figured out, things change? That seems to happen to me often and it happened to me again with the homily for this morning. When the Rev. Kathy asked me if I would preach today, I looked over the readings for this morning and immediately got a glimmer of something. Over the next week or so I began to flesh out that idea. The homily was starting to take shape and it was going to be a very good homily. But then I sat down to spend some more time reflecting on the readings and much to my surprise and dismay, the readings appointed for this morning were completely different than I thought they were. I just was getting it all figured out and everything changed.

This particular gospel passage about the Syro-phoenician woman challenging Jesus has a special place in my memory. St. Andrew’s was in the interim time between Father Hibbert’s retirement and calling the Rev. Kathy to be our pastor. One August morning, we were scheduled to have a supply priest and we were also to have a baptism at the 8:00 service. By 7:45 that morning, the supply priest still had not made an appearance. I was newly ordained and not too confident. I made an emergency phone call to Virginia and she probably broke a few speed limits in getting here in a matter of minutes. Her advice to me was that when it came time for the Gospel I should read very slowly and pray very hard that the priest would walk in. If that didn’t work, Virginia said I had three options. I could skip the homily and have silent reflection, we could open it up for discussion, or I could preach off the top of my head with no preparation. Well believe me, I read very slowly and I prayed very hard. No priest! Well I did preach that morning. I don’t remember exactly what I said but I do know that some power other than my own gave me the courage and the words to talk about what the story of this determined mother may mean to us in today’s world. Another case of thinking I was prepared – that I had it figured out. At the last minute everything changed.

One thing that I have learned is that there is a real need for flexibility in our lives. Just as bridges and tall buildings are built intentionally with some sway factor which adds intrinsically to their strength – we too are stronger when we are able to sway with the unexpected. Life will throw us curves and just when we think we have it figured out, something may change. If we do not have that built in strength of flexibility – if we remain rigid and unbending – we run the risk of breaking. Our spiritual, physical or mental health may be adversely affected. And even our relationships with others may suffer.

Now that I’ve told you that we have to be flexible – to be able to give with the changes that life will inevitably bring us – I want to be clear that I don’t mean we are simply to give in and be swayed by every thing that comes along. There is certainly pressure from our culture to do just that. We as Christians are called to stand firm in our belief and faith in a God that loves us and transforms us.

We are called to act out that faith every day of our lives. Many times it happens in ways that are as natural to us as breathing. Or there may be times we feel that our faith has completely left us and we wonder how we will survive. But there are also times that we make a conscious decision to live into the faith that we profess.

A mother whose daughter is ill takes a determined stand. A woman who is a Gentile has such faith in the person of Jesus that she ignores cultural mores that would normally prevent a Jewish man from speaking to a woman in public. This believer was ready with a rebuttal when her request was refused. Her faith – her courage – her love for her child – allowed her to stand firm in the face of uncertainty. We don’t know if she really expected a response to her plea. Perhaps she was so desperate that she felt she just had to try no matter what the outcome. Perhaps she thought there was no hope and yet suddenly everything changed.

A deaf man with an impediment in his speech would most likely have endured a number of obstacles in his daily life. Yet this man had family members or friends who cared enough about him to bring him to where Jesus was. Then they made their way through the crowds to beg Jesus to lay his hand on the man. Their determination allowed for a life-altering encounter with Jesus. Deafness and a speech impediment in that day and age would be a far different matter than it is today. Perhaps the man had learned to live his life within that scope of limitations – he thought he had it all figured out and then everything changed.

We are called to have that same sense of determination and faith as we live our lives in the Kingdom of God. There will be times for each of us to be the mother who begs on behalf of the child. There will be times that we are called to be the ones pushing through the crowds on behalf of someone else. Jesus has sent us out into the world to do the work of God.

Sometimes that means we have to step out of our comfort zone – we have to speak out – we have to stand up. We can not – we should not – stand idly by when we are surrounded by the poor, the disenfranchised, the ones discriminated against, the ones who are ignored, the ones with no voice. We must serve as the hands and feet of Jesus Christ in this world to spread the Good News.

Within the letter attributed to James we are reminded that we are to love our neighbors as ourselves. Our faith in – and our love for – Jesus Christ will bear fruit. It isn’t that we have to do works of faith to believe. It is because we believe in a God that loves us that works of faith become a part of who we are. Within that scope we are to honor the poor. We are called to remembering that the poor shall be blessed by God. However, we must always be aware that poverty is not simply a condition of ones’ financial status. Poverty comes in many disguises. It does not necessarily express itself in outward and visible ways. Each and every one of us has the ability – the gift – of being able to relieve or help ease the burden of poverty from some one. The gift of listening, a simple smile, fresh vegetables left on the table in the hallway, school clothes for an unknown child, a telephone call, as well as a monetary gift are just a few of the many ways we each lift or ease the burden of others. We may never know how deeply we touch someone with a simple gift – a gift that we give because we have already been given the greatest gift of all. Perhaps just when someone thinks they have it all figured out – a simple gift changes everything.

There is yet another aspect to today’s Gospel story that I think we should consider. What if you and I are the ones who need to have our ears opened – opened to hear the Word of God in a new and fresh way? The voice of God comes to us in many ways. The healing grace of Jesus Christ changes our lives – change that comes with faith but that also comes unexpectedly.

We may hear something in an old familiar Scripture passage or favorite hymn – something that suddenly sounds so new that our ears and heart are opened to new understandings. Perhaps we are a participant in the adult discussion group on Sunday mornings, the Bible study or EFM class on Tuesdays, or just visiting at coffee hour and suddenly something we hear gives us pause – and we take the time to consider what we have heard in a new way.

This may come as a surprise to you but just because we all attend St. Andrew’s does not mean that we always agree on everything or even that we always like one another. There are times that it feels comfortable to assume that we all think alike – but that is a dangerous assumption to make. When we start to think in that manner – it means that we are not hearing some of the voices – that we are not listening to the message some one else can share.

We have the opportunity for that very thing here at St. Andrew’s. The Rev. Kathy has asked us to reflect upon the question of how homosexuality has affected us personally. There will be opportunities for sharing with one other our thoughts and responses to that question. The question is not judgmental – it does not ask for an answer of right or wrong. It simply asks how we each have been affected. That is only one of the many issues that affect each of us differently. It is only one of the many facets of life itself that we have the opportunity to hear about.

We can listen to one another with the gift of love. Admittedly, it isn’t always easy or comfortable to listen – to really hear – what others have to say. The temptation often is to immediately refute or agree – and yes to even walk away. When we can resist that temptation and sit in silence as others speak, we will be giving one another an enormous gift. We will be honoring the speaker in ways that do not happen often in this noisy world we live in.

We each have our own story – no two exactly alike. Each story is as valuable as the other. To take the time to listen to another’s story will open not only our ears but also our hearts. We will be living into the commandment to love one another as God loves us. We will love as we each want to be loved. We will be living into our Baptismal vow to treat each person with respect and dignity.

Who knows? Perhaps as we listen we may hear the voice of God speaking to us and everything will change.