Pentecost 10, 2021

The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost - Proper 13

Exodus 16:2-4,9-15 Psalm 78:23-29 Ephesians 4:1-16 John 6:24-35

“Jesus answered the crowd,’Do not work for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.’” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen

As a kid I took piano lessons from our very accomplished church organist. While I wasn’t the most disciplined of his students, I nonetheless looked forward to each Saturday morning session because I enjoyed learning how to play and we spent a lot of time on the classics. My love of hymns clearly stemmed from my years of training from Dr. Ralph. But I also think I had another reason for looking forward to Saturday mornings: the post-lesson stop at New Roma Bakery for danish and baguettes of freshly baked French bread. The smell alone was worth all the practicing of the scales and music assigned for each week. Knowing that we’d stop after my lesson was motivation enough to keep me working on my burgeoning musical skills. Thankfully, it’s still in operation at the same location in which it began in 1934.

There appears historical evidence to indicate that bread has been some sort of staple in cultures throughout the world going back some 30,000 years. It’s estimated that roughly 60% of the world’s population eats bread on a daily basis and that each American consumes approximately 55-60 pounds of bread per year. Before Julie and I started our new eating regime, bread in all its forms was a staple in our home and I think I speak for both of us, we do miss it.

In today’s Gospel reading from John, we’re reminded that Jesus has just finished the miraculous feeding of the 5,000+ with the meagor rations of a young boy that consisted of 5 barley loaves and 2 fish. The crowds were still clamoring for him, seeking another meal to satisfy their physical needs whereas this should have been a sign to them of Jesus’ divine nature and identity as the true Messiah. It’s obvious that they don’t have any appreciation for the miracle that happened just the previous day nor are we told they offered any thanks to God for the miraculous appearance of more than enough for all to eat. Jesus tells them to work “for the food that endures to eternal life” but the crowd misunderstood his statement and asked about works required by God. Jesus replies that the work God requires is that people believe in the Messiah. The food Jesus is speaking about, the “true bread from heaven,” is something that nourishes people’s souls spiritually for all eternity. This is obviously far superior to the manna offered to their ancestors in the wilderness which was temporal and intended to meet their daily physical needs or the bread and fish from 24 hours ago.

There’s an old saying that “you are what you eat.” As I mentioned earlier, 60% of the world’s population partakes of bread each and every day. But we all know that not every kind of bread is good for us. Not all bread is nutritious nor is all bread affordable. To know whether what we are eating is good for us, we need to take a look at the ingredients. I’m reminded of the tag line for Wonder Bread from my youth: “Builds Strong Bodies 12 Different Ways.” I assumed this to be a good thing and so I made sure I ate lots of it, much to my chagrin as a young teenager. Wonder Bread really wasn’t great for me and it’s ability to satisfy my hunger didn’t last very long. Shelves at grocery stores and craft bakeries now offer lots of varieties of bread that do provide some healthful attributes to our diet. But what about a different kind of bread that many ingest on a regular basis? How many of us eat from the loaf of anger and frustration? What about the bread of suspicion and anxiousness? What about those who partake of the bread that sustains them in the form of guilt and depression, or the bread of power, pride, and greed. The bread so many in our world consume today is riddled with mold and too dry even for croutons.

Another aspect of this earthly bread is that any satisfaction we derive from it soon fades away. Many in our culture are enticed by the bread of fame and fortune, drugs, booze, and sex, or the next new car, house, or latest “must-have” trinket. Our culture is forever showing us the bread of this world as something we must crave and enjoy until the next new, shiny brand or flavor comes along. We live in a world that is always seeking the next new something or other: the next new president of the country, the next new congressperson, the next new set of laws that revoke the previous set. Even when we consider the positive aspect of our secular and temporal bread options, we must remember that they too are but a passing memory, even those of our dearest remembrances. They are like fireworks that are bright and beautiful but last only for the moment and many around us are still looking for those “fireworks moments” every day. Yes, they are fun and exciting. but they do not fulfill one’s heart’s desire.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus is talking about a different kind of bread, the “true bread from heaven,” “.....the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” The bread Jesus speaks of brings “life” and sustains us for all eternity. This bread satisfies our heart’s desires, not just our need to have full stomachs of new and exciting experiences. The bread of Jesus empowers us through this life and the next. This bread reaps harvests of joy, hope, peace, patience, compassion, and love. This is the bread that supplies our health and wellbeing while deeply nourishing our souls.

Continuing with the theme on the importance of what we eat, I offer this rather popular legend of unknown origin titled “The Two Wolves” sometimes attributed to the Cherokee or Lenape people:

One evening, an elderly Cherokee brave told his grandson About a battle that goes on inside people.
He said, my son, the battle is between
Two wolves inside us all. One is evil.
It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, Arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority,

Lies, false-pride, superiority, and ego.
The other is good. It is peace, love, hope, serenity, Humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, Generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.

The grandson thought about it for a moment and Then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf wins?” The old Cherokee simply replied,
“The one that you feed.”

In a few moments we will all feed on the “true bread of heaven.” We will gather symbolically around this altar to receive the bread of life and the cup of salvation. We will feed on the life-giving body of our Savior. We will be nourished by his ever-satisfying and sustaining body and blood. This gift of life is freely offered and available for all, a gift that ensures that we will never be hungry or thirsty again. Jesus is offering his very self for each of us here today and for the whole world. These wafers and wine that will be sanctified by the Holy Spirit will become for us the food and drink of unending life in him. Jesus, the bread of life, is all we need and he delights in our desire for him.

Dear friends, the bread of this world that demands something from us, that saps our strength and vitality for life, that makes us dull and slow, that taps into our worst emotions and behaviors, is all around us for the taking. But the bread that keeps us filled and nourished with the love of God, that empowers us to live lives of abundance and joy, that breaks the chains of oppression of all kinds, is available, right here, right now in the form of the bread of life, our risen Lord. These sacraments of bread and wine will guide and lead us into the world that is filled with the bread of lies and deception.

Jesus’ eternal bread will strengthen us with love and courage to serve God with gladness and singleness of heart. It will fulfill all that we need and desire. But let us be mindful of the words from Eucharistic Prayer C, that we not come to this table for solace only, but for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal. The psalmist puts it this way: “Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him. Welcome to the table of the bread of life. Amen

Pentecost 9, 2021

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost

2 Kings 4:42-44 Psalm 145:10-19 Ephesians 3:14-21 John 6:1-21

“There is a boy here who has 5 barley loaves and 2 fish. But what are they among so many people?” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

It was October of 1967. I was 11 years old and I was helping with the preparations for the church’s annual meeting luncheon. I remember it vividly because the 1967 World Series was in full swing and it was the first year of my life where sports became an all-consuming emphasis for me. I was in the church’s kitchen which was in the basement. As I was getting silverware and cups ready to put on the tables, I remember the conversation of two women (whose faces I can see in my mind’s eye but whose names I can’t recall) were fretting about having sufficient food for the meeting. They rattled off the names of families that had signed up to bring various dishes and wondered what they’d do if non-registered people came to the meeting or if any of the folks who signed up to bring something inadvertently forgot. I’ll never forget one aspect of the conversation: A third woman in the group offered a glimmer of hope that they would indeed have sufficient food. She said that even if all the food brought had been eaten, there would ALWAYS be some of Helen’s green jello with carrots and a dollop of Miracle Whip mold left....NO ONE ever ate that so technically there would be enough for all to eat. I was glad my mom wasn’t “Helen” and every time I hear today’s reading found in all of the synoptic gospels of the feeding of the 5,000 I just have to chuckle.

From today’s Collect through the assigned readings for this Sunday we find the theme of trust and abundance. The emphasis on food and provisions, I believe, is an aspect of life to which we all can relate. At some point we’ve all been hungry, maybe not famished or missing meals because of a lack of

resources, but in need of nourishment nonetheless. I think it’s safe to say that the huge crowds that followed Jesus throughout his travels near the Sea of Galilee were not only hungry, but desperate for a new way of living that didn’t include the Romans. Many were ill both in body and spirit. The emphasis on feeding their physical hunger, seems to me, helped to set the stage for the deeper feeding they needed. I believe these readings also speak to a much deeper reality of how we choose to live our lives; either grounded in abundance or scarcity. These readings take us beyond our need for provisions for our physical bodies to nourishment for our emotional and spiritual needs as well.

Today’s Collect opens with words that set the tone for the balance of our liturgy; “O God, the protector of all who trust in you.....” In part, “trust” is defined as having a firm belief in the character, strength, or truth of someone or something. Another similar meaning includes having confidence, faith, or hope in someone or something.

We all know what trust looks like. Trust is built over time and grounded in the establishment of relationships. We trust our spouse and other members of our family. We trust our physicians, our auto mechanics, our dentists, and hopefully our clergy. We rely on their competence and consistent behavior characterized by respect and believing that they are motivated to serve our best interests. We are generally willing to pay a premium to access the services and relationships that have proven beneficial and worthy of our trust and attention. We acknowledge their importance to us in helping us live the lives we enjoy.

In today’s reading from Mark, Jesus sees this mass of humanity and asks Philip where they might be able to buy sufficient bread to feed this crowd. Philip responds the way many, if not all of us would, with the mindset that they have nowhere near enough money to buy what would be needed to feed everyone. Another of the disciples, Andrew, spots a young boy in this crowd that has in his possession 5 barley loaves and two fish and in typical disciple-fashion, questions how this could be of any help given the number of people with them. Here we have two chosen disciples of Jesus who

have witnessed miraculous healings, the casting out of demons, the raising of the dead, and their first response to this problem is understanding it with human faculties, not through the prism of possibility and wonder at what Jesus might do now. Instead of seeing 5 barley loaves and 2 fish as the seeds for something really big and exciting, they see these meager resources as just that, meager resources. I’m thankful for the disciples because they give me hope that as I continue on my journey of discipleship, I too will come to see more clearly the work of Jesus in my life and in the lives of others who claim Jesus as Lord.

I’m going to guess that many of us at one point or another have found ourselves thinking exactly the way that Philip and Andrew did when faced with what appears to be an insurmountable problem. We look to ourselves and maybe some close friends to process and formulate an answer. We look at the problem as something to be solved and not as a possibility for something new to appear. I’ve done it and I’m still working on getting out of my “problem solving” mindset. I think this tendency is exacerbated with those of us who have this insatiable need to “fix things.”

If we pay attention to a few details in Mark’s gospel I think we’ll find two responses to the problems we face in our lives. First off, how about this young boy with the barley loaves and fish? All we read is that this young fellow gave what he had, this meager ration of bread and fish, and willingly handed it to Jesus. Think about that for a moment. I suspect he wasn’t the only person among all the gathered crowd that had some sort of provision and there are some commentaries that speak to this aspect of the miraculous feedings as the sharing of what everyone had with one another. But the text doesn’t say that; it says the boy gave his food to Jesus. The text doesn’t say why the boy did it, but we have to assume at some level it was because Jesus and he connected in some sort of way. It had to entail a level of trust that something good was going to happen. Why else would he give all that he had to someone he didn’t know. All we’re left with is that “he did.”

The second detail to notice is what Jesus did with what was willingly given to him. He gave thanks. He acknowledged what was given to him and offered his thanks to God for it and amazingly “distributed them to those who were seated...as much as they wanted.” Not only was there enough for everyone, as much as they wanted, there were leftovers that filled 12 baskets!!

From meager beginnings that could be held in one’s arms, the crowd was not only fed but there were leftovers. This is the difference between thinking in terms of scarcity, that there’s not enough, to abundance and possibility, where God is involved and options abound.

We have another example of exhibiting trust and calling upon the Lord from the Old Testament reading from 2 Kings. Here the prophet Elisha is offered 20 loaves of barley and fresh ears of grain and he instructs his servant to give it to those gathered to eat. Not surprisingly, the servant looks at the offering and says it’s not sufficient to feed the 100 people. Elisha again instructs the servant to feed the people and with the blessing of God, not only is there sufficient food for the 100, God says there will be some left. So Elisha “set it before them, they ate, and had some left, according to the word of the LORD.”

The psalmist writes that “The LORD upholds all those who fall; he lifts up those who are bowed down. The eyes of all wait upon you , O LORD, and you give them their food in due season. You open wide your hand and satisfy the needs of every living creature.” Once again provision and protection is offered by the God of all Creation for those who wait upon the Lord. We don’t wait in vain, we wait in hope and confidence that the Lord will do what he says he’ll do. We trust him. He will lift us up, he will provide for us when it’s time and he willingly opens his hands and satisfies the needs of every living creature....friends, this includes you and me.

My friends, trust is a precious commodity. We give it to few and hope for it from others. Today’s readings provide us with vivid examples that when we are willing to give what we have to God, he can do wonders beyond belief. By his radical act of trust, the young boy gave Jesus all he had and many were fed with much left over. We too can give all we have, our very selves, to God, with confidence and belief that he will do amazing and wonderful things for us and for the benefit of others. And yet, it seems that many of us still hold onto some part of us from God. Many trust God with certain aspects of their lives, but not all of it. Do any of us hold anything back from God? I won’t offer up any examples as I might incriminate myself. I think you get the point. If we can trust our mechanic with keeping our vehicle in top running condition, can’t we trust God enough to keep our very selves in top spiritual shape? Are we willing to trust God enough to turn over the wants and desires of our lives with confidence he will bring us what we need and maybe what we want? The abundant life Jesus offers, the one that speaks of a cup running over, the one that is filled with the fullness of God, awaits us. Paul puts it this way: “Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine....” Just think of the possibilities. Amen.

Pentecost 8, 2021

The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

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

“Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture! Says the LORD.” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Aren’t there days when you’d like to take on the mantle of a prophet of God likeAmos,Isaiah,ortoday’sfeaturedspeaker,Jeremiah? Afterbecoming sufficiently indignant with the behaviors of these elected, appointed or self-selected “shepherds,” haven't you ever imagined standing on your proverbial soapbox reprimanding the so-called leaders of our society with a righteous “Woe to you (fill in the blank)!” The opportunities for full-on rebuke are endless: politicians, media outlets of all stripes, the wealthy, especially the mega wealthy, the poor, big business, academia, anti-vaxers, vaxers, school boards, or any collection of narcissists from the world of sports and entertainment who hold sway and influence within the society. Our calls of “woe to you” might very well include the religious who espouse piety and faithfulness while scamming their flock out of their money. How about the financiers who have taken the ponzi scheme to a whole new level by abusing the trust of their clients in fleecing individuals and families out of their life savings? Truth is, the bad “shepherds” of our age seem very much akin to the bad “shepherds” during the times of the prophets; leaders who hold their self-interests above those they’ve been entrusted to serve, particularly during times of political, social, moral, and spiritual decay happening all around them.

Our anger with these individuals and institutions seems well placed, right? A relatively recent Gallup study highlighted the percentage of respondents with their level of confidence, their approval rating, for a variety of well known institutions including the US Congress, Organized Labor, Big Business, Small Business, the Public School system, Organized religion, Television and Newspapers, Medicine, the Military, and Police. While I wasn’t surprised at some of the specific ratings, I was taken aback at how pervasive the lack of confidence the respondents had overall. There were only three categories that had approval ratings in excess of 50%: the Military, Law Enforcement, and Small Business. Collectively, the others ranged between high teens to high 30s. An important point in this survey is this: the time period started in 1973 and ran through 2020 and the percentages have remained fairly steady for nearly 50 years. This particular survey tells us that our citizens have very little faith and confidence in this country’s leadership across a wide spectrum of basic institutions that are foundational to our culture.

What exacerbates this lack of confidence is the ubiquitous negative comments of and against both individuals and institutions circulated on social media. The continual posting of mean spirited, vulgar, shoot-from-the-hip commentary that often has no source of corroboration, fills Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter every minute of every day. Irrespective of our political leanings, the news and information we take in each day tends to affirm what we already think and provides the fuel for our anxieties and frustrations while spawning the breeding ground of division and isolation.

Division and strife is the byproduct of our unwillingness to be humble, to consider the fact that we might just be wrong. We heard this theme earlier in Mark’s Gospel, that a house divided cannot stand. And yet, the prevailing culture strives for divisions among us and uses every tool available: race, gender, economics, politics, and class to name just a few. The neverending trail of degradation, shaming, lying, and self-righteousness is both exhausting and tedious. I know I get angry and I

suspect I’m not alone. I find myself far too often screaming at the television set or crumpling the newspaper wanting to call out these purveyors of division with my shouts of “Woe to you!” Lest my anger get the best of me, I’m thankful for the reminder from my youth that when I’m pointing my “woe to you” finger at someone else, there are three pointing back at me.

So what’s the antidote to all this anger, chaos, and fear from a world that craves for so much of our attention and energy that distracts us from the things of God? I think Mark reveals two significant approaches we can use to combat this onslaught of all that is antithetical to a life marked by joy, peace, and grace.

In today’s reading from Mark’s Gospel, we find the disciples having returned from their first mission trip. They’ve healed the sick and cast out demons. They’ve planted the seeds of the coming kingdom even in places where they weren’t welcomed. Jesus has also been busy and they all need to “get away” to some desolate place in order for them to rest a while. So the first way to reprioritize our lives away from all the maddening crowds and expectations of the world is to “get away....to rest.” And while this doesn’t come to fruition in today’s story, it nonetheless provides an insight for us to pay attention to.

We all want to reduce the anxiety in your lives, right? Give yourself a break. In order to find the rest we seek, how about we put our phones away. Turn off the television. Let the newspapers pile up on the doorstep for a week. Get your mind away from all the negativity that is so pervasive. Rest by doing what you love to do. You like to hike? Do it and pay attention to where you find God. Maybe it’s fishing, or reading a book, or listening to great music. Maybe it’s cooking, baking, photography, or tinkering around in your workshop. Whatever it is, be prepared to be amazed at where God might want to take you for this opportunity to rest and enjoy his company while you renew your soul.

I suspect you noticed in our gospel reading that the crowds of people were always seeking Jesus out. Jesus has been inundated with the crowds wherever he’s traveled. Upon his arrival he again encountered a large crowd with their individual needs and his compassion flowed out because they were like sheep without a shepherd. They had rushed ahead of him so they could position themselves on the shore for the sheer chance to touch his cloak and be healed. This is the second step towards reducing the anxiety and anger in your life; do what the crowds do. They wanted to be near Jesus, to learn from him, to have their bodies, minds, and souls healed. We too need to prioritize our time with Jesus in order to deepen our relationship with him. We’re called to pray, to study God’s Word, to read, and to engage with people in worship and acts of discipleship that builds community and renews our spirits. Our intentional time with Jesus strengthens us and is life-giving. Why do so many of us allow the world to deplete us of joy and energy when the renewing power of Jesus awaits our asking?

We read in today’s Psalm that the Lord, the good shepherd, will provide all that we need; he will insure for us a place of refreshment; he will walk with us through challenging times, and his goodness and mercy will follow us all the days of our lives. We’re not hearing this on Twitter or Instagram. We learn this by spending time with the Lord and seeking his guidance and his comfort.

In Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, he speaks of the peace of Jesus; the peace that stems from his redemptive work on the cross. This peace brings people together, tears down walls that divide us, reconciles those who were strangers and aliens, and those who were far off with those who were near, as all become unified citizens with the saints and members of the household of God. The peace of Jesus changes us from the inside out and allows for the fruit of the Spirit to become manifest in our lives.

My friends, ultimately the choice is ours. We can continue to engage with the world on its terms or we can be transformed by our relationship with the living God who created it. This is not to say that you don’t pay attention to what’s going on or to be uninformed. That said, Paul again implores us that we are to be in the world, but not of it. The values of this world are not those of God. Our time with Jesus will shape and strengthen our Christian worldview, one that affirms that God is the sovereign and almighty Lord of all existence. Through this prism we will come to more fully understand our purpose for being and our relationship with Jesus that will bring the kingdom of God just that much closer each and every day. I pray that we will not be a part of the scattering of God’s people, that we will be a bridge of hope, compassion, and love to all we encounter. I pray that we will put away the noise, clamor, tension, and fear of this world for the renewing power of Jesus that will indeed change the world. We can be a part of the solution to a world in desperate need of one.

Pentecost 7, 2021

7/11/21  Sermon  Pentecost 7 Proper 10 RCL B

Amos 7:7-15, Psalm 85:8-13, Ephesians 1:3-14, Mark 6:14-29

God chooses people.

In the original Greek, the reading today from Ephesians is one long sentence.  So perhaps you are like me, who when I first read it, my eyes kind of glazed over.  But on closer look, several things stood out to me. Paul never thought of himself choosing to do God’s work, but that God chose him. Jesus even says to his disciples in John, “You did not choose me, but I chose you.”  God chose us. 

Much of the Bible is about character development and the transformation of people, and more often than not, it begins with an experience of “chosenness”.

Think of the many, many stories in the Bible of God choosing people.  Moses, Abraham and Sarah.  Then there is Joseph, Deborah, David, and Esther. There is Israel itself. Later there’s Peter, Paul, and most especially, Mary. God is always choosing particular people. Sometimes it’s clearly for a role or a task, to be a willing instrument, like Amos.  Amos said, "I am no prophet, nor a prophet’s son; but I am a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees.”  I love that title.  Amos wasn’t a prophet, but God chose him to prophesy, so that’s what he did. 

(Thankfully, when God chooses someone in the Bible, the standard opening line is “Do not be afraid” and the final line usually includes the promise “I will be with you”.)  God chose us.  Have you ever thought about what being chosen means to you?

This past weekend, I attended the Women’s Retreat at Camp Cross, which was led by our Bishop, Gretchen.  I invited my sister from Chico, CA to come with me, which made it extra special.  The Retreat was a very meaningful, rich, and unique experience. 

As an aside, for those of you that don’t know, let me briefly talk about Camp Cross.  Camp Cross is an incredibly beautiful property owned by our Diocese.  It’s referred to as the “jewel of the diocese”.  It sits on 110 acres on the shore of Lake Coeur d’Alene.  The Episcopal Diocese has owned it since around 1920, and it is rumored that it was purchased for $1.  It’s called Camp Cross in honor of a Bishop Edward Makin Cross.  Many children as well as adults of our diocese have gone to camp there over the ages.  There are cabins and meeting halls, outdoor places to worship, a beach with canoes to use, trails for hiking, and great food, and the most welcoming staff of young people.   We went to sleep each night listening to the water lap up on the rocks outside our cabin.  It was hot last weekend, so instead of having a planned cocktail hour on a pontoon boat and a campfire, we had our cocktails in an air-conditioned room, and had morning prayer on the pontoon boat.  It was a beautiful, magical event.  

[Just so you know, I have been officially designated a Camp Cross Cheerleader for the upcoming capital campaign to improve it so we can expand its use.  This isn’t the last time you’ll hear me talk about CC.]  Back to the sermon.

At camp we explored four themes: connect, relate, belong, and unite.   The first night, we found connections or things we had in common with one another.  After connecting, we were asked the question, “Where was God in a life-changing experience in your life?”  We began relating to each other by sharing our stories in small groups of 3. 

Personally speaking, the story I was prompted to tell was of the day I learned I might have cancer.  Sitting in a doctor’s office, waiting for a surgeon, after my gynecologist found I had enlarged lymph nodes under my arms.  In that office, I was overwhelmed with feeling God’s presence.  I felt suddenly like I had been chosen, I’d been set aside for a special path.  I knew at that moment, my life was going to be different, and that God had chosen me.  I am still perplexed at my reaction, yet I know God was at work.  And for the most part, I think God is still unveiling to me what I was chosen for.

The Bishop told us that, for people in general to feel like they belong, requires four key things - someone knows your name; someone knows your story; you know another person’s story; people notice and miss you when you are gone. 

Someone knows your name;

Someone knows your story;

You know another person’s story;

People notice and miss you when you are gone. 

I bet you all have a story about a time in your life that was life changing, or you felt “chosen”.   So here is a question.  Have you shared it lately?  Have you listened to someone else tell their story recently?

Another of our exercises at camp was to think back on a time when we felt like we belonged and when we didn’t.  Church was the first recollection I had of a place where I felt like I belonged, and I sincerely have to thank you all for making that my reality today.    

I came back from the retreat with a renewed sense of purpose for Holy Spirit Church:  To make sure everyone who comes here feels like they belong. 

How do we do that?  It’s not that hard.  In many ways, we already excel at this.  But we can always do better.  Do we share and listen to one another’s stories?  Do we notice when people are not here?  We all take part in building a sense of community and belonging in this place. 

After we have connected and related to each other by sharing our stories, we experience a sense of belonging.  Then comes the realization we are united in a common purpose.  Our weekly dismissal prayer says, “send us out to do the work you have given us to do”.  We find common purpose in following Jesus and doing his work.

As Paul says, God chose us, he destined us to be his children, he lavished on us the riches of his grace, and he has made known to us the mystery of his will.  We have a lot in common with one another.

Jesus prayed that we would be one as he and the Father are one.  All of humanity is connected as one living breathing life in God’s love.  We are connected because we are all equally beloved of God.  To belong is one of the deepest desires of the human heart.  When we belong, we are woven together on a deep level. 

Loving God and loving one another and knowing we are all chosen puts us in a stance of hospitality and welcome.  As Jesus followers, we are always looking to the good of the other. 

Let us pray.  Heavenly father, thank you for choosing us.  Help us to increase every member and visitor’s sense of belonging here.  Grant that we may know and understand all the things you want us to do, and give us grace and power to accomplish them.  We pray with grateful hearts.  Amen. 

Pentecost 6, 2021

6th Sunday after Pentecost

Ezekiel 2:1-5
Psalm 123
2 Corinthians 12:2-10 Mark 6:1-13

“And Jesus said, ‘Prophets are not without honor except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house’.....and he was amazed at their unbelief.” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen

Where is “home” for you? Is it your hometown, the place where you were born? Or raised? When were you last there? Was it a place dotted with family farms or ranches? Was it in the mountains, near water, or in a valley setting? Was it a big city filled with skyscrapers that reached to the stars? Why do so many of us “yearn for home?”

I think these sorts of questions are “trick questions.” Over time I’ve learned that “home” isn’t a “place.” Rather, “home” is where we experience being in a relationship with others. As many of you know, I was born and raised in Sacramento; Sacramento was my home. I grew up with friends from the neighborhood, my church, school, college, and with folks from the beginning of my professional career. Sacramento was where I met and married Julie, where our boys were born and where we began our life together. As much as Sacramento was referred to as a “cow town”, I was still very protective of her because all the important people in my life lived there. The image of my hometown of my youth and early adulthood was greatly altered when I last visited. Gone were the stores and shops we frequented. While not yet closed, my hometown church was a shell of her former self. Hundreds of new housing units,strip malls, and big-box stores replaced the thousands of acres of rice and tomato fields. I’ve lost touch with all but a few of my friends who still reside there. If it weren’t for my mother still living there, in the same house my sister and I grew up in,

Sacramento would be but a distant memory. Spokane is now “my home.” (and North Idaho!)

In today’s reading from Mark’s Gospel, the Evangelist tells us that Jesus and his disciples returned to Nazareth, his hometown. Not surprisingly, Mark does not tell us “why” he returned home, but I’m going to speculate it’s for the same reason we all return home now and then. I’m guessing he wanted to see his friends and family again, to spend time at the synagogue, and to maybe get a little rest from all that he’s been through. From the very beginning of Mark’s Gospel, Jesus has been busy teaching, healing the sick, casting out demons, being a thorn in the side of the religious elite, constantly being followed by great crowds of people, and most recently, raising a little girl from the dead. Who wouldn’t want to take a break and spend time at home?

Can you imagine what it must have been like the day Jesus returned home? The stories of all that he has said and done must have preceded his arrival. I can envision quite the scene as “The Local Boy Makes Good” and his disciples arrive in town. I suspect the synagogue was packed as Jesus expounded on the writings and teachings of the Torah. Mark writes that many who heard Jesus at the synagogue were “astounded” or “astonished” We generally have positive reactions to these two verbs such as “surprised” or “wow.” The Greek word used is ekplesso, which does mean “astounded” or “astonished” but has yet another meaning, that of being “cast away by a blow” or to “drive out.” A great word in today’s vernacular would be “incredulous.” They could not believe what they were hearing. Again, Mark doesn’t provide the reason for their angry response but obviously something struck a chord. And their response is not surprising when one doesn’t like what one is hearing; you question the speaker's authority. Where did this guy get all this wisdom (i.e. where did he get his theological training?). The training he does have was that of a carpenter, not a teacher of Torah! Look at his family! He’s the “son of Mary” and don’t we know the rest of his brothers and sisters? Who does he think he is? To add a little detail of this story from Luke’s Gospel, we read that the townsfolk wanted to run him out of town by throwing him off a

cliff. Further, Mark tells us that Jesus was amazed at their unbelief. The Greek word used here for amazed is thaumazo, to marvel, an astonishment that contains little doubt but that “knocks your socks off.” Is it any wonder that Jesus could do no deeds of power there other than to cure a few that were sick in light of how he was being viewed by the townsfolk? Maybe Author Thomas Wolff had it right with the title of his 1940 novel, You Can Never Go Home Again.

So what did Jesus do when home was no longer home? He started a new one! Jesus takes his twelve disciples, commissions them, provides some ground rules, and sends them out on their mission of evangelism. Jesus has armed them with power to heal the sick and cast out demons. They go as sheep among wolves but he’s equipped them with how to deal with rejection and threats. “Home” now becomes embodied through relationships built with people as they travel the countryside proclaiming the good news of the coming kingdom of God. This kingdom is built on love, compassion, joy, reciprocity, goodwill, and a new way of living. He’s also given them the freedom to “let it go” if their message is not received well, knowing that the seeds of the kingdom have been planted and to move on to others who need to hear of this good news.

Jesus has commissioned us for this task as well. I am so thankful that those first disciples were ordinary, really ordinary folks. There wasn’t an academic degree among them. They weren’t wealthy (OK, Matthew probably was doing alright for himself). Despite their continuing to be confused by much of what Jesus meant by his actions and words, they nonetheless persevered in following him. They were loyal and willing to undertake this most important assignment of proclaiming a different way of living that offered a “home” built on a relationship with Jesus that includes freedom, joy, peace, hope, and wholeness.

Dear friends, there are so many “homeless” all around us. Whether they have a roof over their head or not, many are “relationship deprived.” They are homeless in terms of having relationships that undergird their lives, let alone the true home built on the foundation found in Jesus Christ. We can do our part to reduce, and God willing, eliminate the homeless many experience as we seek to build relationships with them.

St Francis of Assisi put it this way: “Preach the Gospel at all times and if necessary use words.” Preach the Gospel of love with actions of mercy, compassion, patience, and offer the hope of a better tomorrow. We are the people that can help build new “homes” in this ever enlarging kingdom of God. We do not need to have unique skills or talents, just a willingness to extend ourselves and with God’s grace build one new relationship at a time. Jesus sends us because we’re disciples, not because of our faith in him, but because of his faith in us and in what his love can do working through us.

I leave you with these two stanzas from the prolific liturgical composer, Marty Haugen, in his hymn All Are Welcome:

Let us build a house where love can dwell and all can safely live,
A place where saints and children tell how hearts learn to forgive; Built of hopes and dreams and visions, rock of faith and vault of grace; Here the love of Christ shall end divisions:
All are welcome, All are welcome, All are welcome in this place.

Let us build a house where hands will reach beyond the wood and stone, To heal and strengthen, serve and teach, and live the Word they’ve known; Where the outcast and the stranger bear the image of God’s face,
Let us bring and end to fear and danger,
All are welcome, All are welcome, All are welcome in this place.

Pentecost 5, 2021

5th Sunday after Pentecost

Wisdom of Solomon 1:13-15: 2:23-24 Psalm 30
2 Corinthians 8: 7-15
Mark 5:21-43

“He (Jesus) said to her, ‘Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.’” And to Jairus, “Do not fear, only believe.” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen

Julie, our kids and I were enjoying a tradition of Julie’s family celebrating Frontier Days in the small logging town of Willits, CA. As typical for Northern California weather in July, it was very hot and dry and we were just beginning to settle in for the festival’s parade. The next thing we knew was that our youngest child was becoming more and more lethargic and assuming it was due to the heat and him being only 6 months old, we left our spots on the sidewalk and found some shade to cool off and have him drink some water. It only took a few minutes to recognize that this wasn’t going to be the answer so we found our car and took off like the proverbial bat-out-of-hell and headed back to Sacramento, a trip under normal circumstances that would take nearly 3 hours. Needless to say, our sense of urgency coupled with our willingness to take a chance on being stopped by either local police or the highway patrol, got us home in just under two hours with our first stop at the emergency room. After returning home from the hospital we basically kept vigil for the next four or five days as we waited to see what the result of his care would be. What began so mysteriously as extreme lethargy for which the physicians had no answer, left his body just as mysteriously and Julie and I can only offer our undying gratitude to God for his recovery and subsequent normal living out of his life on his terms.

I can honestly say that I now know what desperation feels like. When we got home from the hospital that day, I went and hid away and prayed like I have never prayed in my life. The reality of being so vulnerable with no viable options at our disposal took me to one of those “thin places'' where God’s divinity met my humanity. While I didn’t negotiate with God for Travis’ recovery, my sense of desperation nonetheless literally took me to my knees with my hands in my head as I pleaded for his healing. The physicians had no idea what was wrong and there was absolutely nothing left for me and our family to do except keep vigil at his side. And yet, just as my counterpart, Jairus, some 2000 years ago, I experienced God’s presence and was told “not to fear, only believe” and in both cases our children were returned to us.

When was the last time you felt desperation? What experience did you encounter that took you to your knees and opened your heart and soul like nothing else previously? What drove you into the arms of Jesus when you finally realized you had no more answers, no more options? Have you ever been treated as an outcast, excluded from the wider community due to no fault of your own? Have you been ostracized because you weren’t part of the “in crowd?”

In today’s Gospel, the Evangelist offers us two stories of healing and restoration. He offers us two stories of desperation grounded in two unique circumstances, differentiated by gender, age, status, resources, religious privileges, and yet interwoven with strands of faith.

Mark begins with the story of Jairus, a leader within the local synagogue. This position brings with it prestige and honor within the community. He is free to go where he wants, encounter whomever he wants, and generally live the good life of a high ranking, male authority, within the community. Irrespective of all this rank and privilege, he’s got a massive problem that drives him to seek our Jesus in hopes of a solution.

He then interjects the story of an unnamed women, stricken by a disease that makes her an outcast of a community that we must presume she had been a member of previously; a ritually unclean person who had to keep her distance from others and announce that she was coming into the presence of “clean” people so that they could avoid coming into contact with her. I’m reminded of the AIDS epidemic in the mid 80’s when many individuals, mostly men, were shunned and left to their own devices due to the uncertainty and fear regarding the disease. This unnamed woman had sought out the best and the brightest within the medical community, none of whom could cure her of her illness. She had no more financial resources to continue her searching. She’s alone even when she’s surrounded by others.

And yet, both share a common thread in this story. They are both desperate people seeking the powers of healing. Stories are flooding in from around the countryside regarding the miracles this prophet, this “man of God” has performed and they just have to see him, talk to him, to experience a miraculous healing for themselves. Both summon the boldness and courage to approach this renowned healer, this Galillean named Jesus. Both put it all on the line in their desire to see Jesus and ask, to beg for healing. Jairus puts his honor and cultural standing on the line as he falls on his knees and begs this carpenter from Nazareth to come and heal his daughter. The woman puts it all on the line as she summons her resolve by faith to wind herself through the crowd risking the emotional and physical consequences of her actions as she seeks to ‘only touch the hem of his robe’ for the healing she desperately needs.

Let’s review the scene again: In great humility, Jairus approaches Jesus, falls to his knees and asks Jesus to come heal his daughter. Jesus agrees to go. But along the way, an unnamed woman slinks through the crowd that is following Jesus and Jairus and is able to touch the hem of Jesus’ robe and immediately the blood flow stops and she knows she is healed. Jesus recognized that power had left him and asked who had touched him. The disciples ask Jesus, “what do you mean, who touched me? This crowd is huge; there’s no way to know.”

Yet Jesus knew the healing power that left him was accessed by this poor woman because of her faith. Here she is, a shunned and outcast woman in the midst of a large crowd, kneeling at the feet of Jesus explaining herself and offering her testimony of faith. Jesus, not only having healed her physical ailment, heals her exclusion from the community by saying “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.” I think this encounter was as much for the crowd’s benefit as hers....and now she is restored to wholeness of life.

Now think about poor Jairus, our other seeker of healing. He’s got to be losing his mind!! They were on their way to Jairus’ house when they’re interrupted by this encounter with this woman. From the time Jesus agrees to go with Jairus and they restart their journey to his house, word comes that his daughter has died. Whatever hope he had is now dashed because they couldn’t get to the house and his little daughter in time. But what does Jesus say? “Do not fear, only believe.” Jesus arrives, takes his closest circle of disciples with him into the house along with the parents and selected others and calls her to “rise” and she awakes from her ‘sleep’ as if nothing had happened. Just as Jesus restored the woman to the community with the endearing word of ‘Daughter’ here Jesus restored this little girl to her family with the simple yet kind words of ‘get her something to eat’; in other words, she’s fine, take good care of her.

Two desperate people who had run out of options. Two unique yet connected stories of miraculous healings. Two examples of bold action wrapped in humility. Two stories of restoration to wholeness. As stories go, good stories with good outcomes. But we’re always left with the lingering question of “So What?” What do these stores mean for us today?

Friends, I think we’re left with two things to ponder this coming week. First, the healing you and I may need at any given time isn’t restricted to physical illness. Sometimes we need healing from broken relationships.
Sometimes it’s when we’ve been isolated from our family, friends, or a wider circle of people we may or may not know because of our differences involving “politics.” Sometimes it’s unresolved emotional hurts we’ve been carrying around with us for years. Sometimes we think we don’t deserve God’s healing, that our problems don’t measure up to someone else’s or that we’re just not good enough to ask him. God’s healing touch awaits us if we will just humbly ask and trust him. God knows what he’s doing and he will not do anything that is not best for us. Our extremities are God’s opportunities. God’s timing and healing might be a mystery to us but we’re told to “fear not, only believe.”

Secondly, God’s gift of grace and healing is not some zero sum game. God has all we need and still more for others. Don’t be afraid to ask for what you need to be made whole, whether of body, mind, or spirit. Just humble yourself and ask; then be prepared to celebrate the restoration we need, not necessarily the restoration we want, but the one we need. And when we do we will join the voice of the psalmist who joyfully proclaims: “I will exalt you, O Lord, because you have lifted me up....you have restored me to health.”

Pentecost 4, 2021

Mark 4:35-41 Silencing the Storm June 20, 2021 Father's Day

I have to address the bank comments that Dave made last week. I loved it. I followed in my mom's footsteps. She was a banker for over 50 years. A little longer than you Dave. Manager of two branches and taught the Teller Training School for Bank of America in Salinas, CA. I was in banking for 25 years. I too have been in the BofA tower in San Francisco. It is truly an amazing place, but my favorite story of the visit is from the Security Seminar that I attended there. I do not remember the name of the Head of Security for the bank, but he was quite a character. He told us the story of a bank robber who went into one of the branches. The guy got up to the teller window and passed the teller a note. He was immediately arrested. He wanted to know why he was arrested so quickly. "Well," the police officer said, "when you get in line with a mask on it gives us time to get here and arrest you."

OK, here we go.

Jesus had been preaching to a large crowd from a boat all day on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. He is tired and wants to rest. He asks his disciples to take them in the boat to the other side of the lake. He falls asleep on a cushion in the stern of the boat and an extraordinarily strong storm comes up. The Disciples are terrified, and they wake up Jesus and ask Him if he is going to do something about the storm. He tells the storm very sternly, "Peace! Be Still!" Immediately the wind stops, and the sea is calm. Then He looks at the disciples and says, "Where is your faith?"

There is a lot of symbolism in this story in the book of Mark. There is the boat, and other boats on the water with theirs, the water of the lake, the extraordinarily strong wind of the storm. He is asleep on a cushion and his strong rebuke of the storm after the disciples wake him up.

The boat. One of my favorite sayings is, "We are all in the same boat together." It can be a situation at work, or in the family, or in our city, state, or country. In

the last year, a one-hundred-year event on our planet. Covid 19. We have all been facing this pandemic together. How many times have you faced a problem with others? How many times by yourself? Have you had the faith that God will get us through this? Have you asked for his help?

When I was looking at the commentaries for this section of Mark, I was surprised to find a fact that I had never thought of or considered. When you look at a traditional church building; between the Narthex, near the opening of the church, to the transepts where the kneeling rails are, is the section called the Nave of the church. It's where the congregation sits. We are in the Nave together right now. The word Nave comes from the Latin 'navis' or ship. The Nave of a church resembles a boat. Like Jesus and the disciples. "We are all in this boat together." The symbol of the boat was adopted in the early years of Christianity.

Jesus had been in the boat most of the day preaching to a large crowd on the shore. He needed rest. He asks his disciples to take them to the other side of the Sea of Galilee and he falls asleep in the stern of the boat. There are other boats with the one Jesus and the disciples are in.

We are surrounded by people who are going through storms in their lives. Their storm may be different than the one we are going through, but it's still a storm.

The water. The Sea of Galilee is 680 feet below sea level. It is surrounded by hills which means it is like a bowl of water. The wind coming down the hillsides stirs up the sea like stirring a bowl of water.

When someone does that it takes a few minutes for the water to stop moving around, but Jesus tells the wind and the water "Peace! Be Still!" The wind stops and the sea becomes calm immediately. The disciples wonder "Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?" They have been His disciples for a while now. Where is their faith?

The wind. Storms can be strong, but especially on the water. I grew up on the Pacific Ocean where it is always windy. One of my favorite pictures is of Erin standing on the beach in Carmel looking out to sea and her braids are straight out behind her from the blowing wind. I lived on Crete in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea with my first husband who was in the Air Force. The winds off the Sahara Desert are extremely strong and come across the Mediterranean Sea

with nothing in the way to slow them down. I attended a baseball game on the Air Station during one of these windstorms and when I took my sunglasses off red dust covered my face except around my eyes. We got a good laugh out of that one. Racoon was one of the descriptive words used.

I lived in Michigan where they get the lake affect snows off the Great lakes. The winds blow across the lakes and pick up moisture. You can just imagine the depth of the snow. All the houses in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan have second story doors so they can leave the house during the Winter. No stairs to the doors needed, you just step out on snow that is as deep as the first story of the house. Bill and I lived in Charleston, South Carolina where the big blows happen. That is what they call the hurricanes. We moved there 6 months after Hurricane Hugo. As we drove through a pine forest to our new home every tree we saw had been snapped in half by the wind. Very scary.

The wind that Jesus and the disciples are experiencing is coming down the hillsides that surround the Sea of Galilee which is 680 feet below sea level. Anyone who has lived in Southern California knows the Santa Ana winds. The wind comes down the mountain canyons during the Summers. If there is any kind of fire...well, you can just imagine.

The storm that Jesus and the disciples are experiencing is extraordinarily strong. Have you experienced this type of storm? A storm in your life that you wonder if you are going to get through? Divorce? Homelessness? The loss of your parents, of a spouse or loss of a child? What questions did you ask the Lord? Have you been able to keep the faith?

The cushion. I wondered about the significance of the cushion Jesus is sleeping on. How many times have we heard or read this passage in our lifetimes? This is the first time I noticed the cushion? A cushion is such a simple thing, or is it? We sit on them. We lean against them. We sleep on them. Our animals sleep on them. I looked in several commentaries wondering about that silly cushion. I found it in one place. The commentary talked about the cushion making the story personal. A sign of the story being a first-person account. We all relate to a cushion. We all know what a cushion is. It makes us comfortable to know that this storm was witnessed by the disciples especially when we are told that Jesus is sleeping on a cushion.

Finally, Jesus strong rebuke to the wind and the waves of the sea. Jesus said, "Peace! Be Still!" and the wind and waves immediately stopped. Jesus was showing that he is the one in charge. Of us, of all life whether plant or animal on this earth, the wind and the water. The universe. He is in charge of everything. We must have Faith and Trust in the Lord.

That no matter what happens in our lives or how devastating, if we turn to God and ask for his help, he is there with us.

My grandma Bustamante died in the Spanish Flu Pandemic in 1918. 103 years ago. We probably know of someone or even a family member that has been lost to the pandemic. Some of us have even been sick. We have been locked down and isolated from each other. We have learned how to use ZOOM or video messaging which for some of us is not an easy matter. Bill and I watched Sunday Services virtually from the Cathedral in Spokane like a lot of you. I have even been doing virtual appointments with our doctor in Sandpoint.

The good thing is we have been reaching out more to family and friends. I know Bill and I did. Bill even did virtual teaching with his students along with staff meetings. I found myself watching less TV and looking out the window because I hated being inside all the time. We saw families going for walks. Mom and Dad and the kids. Some with the family dog on a leash walking right along with everyone else. Before Covid it might have been one or two people taking a walk.

Parents have gotten closer to each other and their families. Can you just imagine families eating at the table again, or the parents teaching their children because they couldn't go to school?

I'm pretty sure there have been a lot of forts built with blankets over chairs, or cookies baked. Our daughter Erin has seen her kids putting Legos together, finger painting, face painting and in general doing things together.

Now most of us have been vaccinated against Covid and we are finally starting to see our churches, schools, and cities open again. We have come through one of the hardest times of our lives. A 100-year storm.

Have faith no matter what storm you may be in. Remember that you are not alone. Pray and ask God for answers, but do not expect an immediate answer. Be patient. Everything is in God's time. Know that God is with you and will answer you and keep you safe and well. I have done a lot of virtual phone calls with my cousin Ernie who is 92 years young. Cousin Ernie says, "God is good. Keep the faith."

Pentecost 3, 2021

Third Sunday after Pentecost

Ezekiel 17:22-24
Psalm 92:1-4,11-14
2 Corinthians 5:6-10, 14-17 Mark 4:26-34

“...and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how.” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

As most of you know, I spent nearly forty years in the banking industry. This career covered various aspects of financial services including working in a handful of local branches, managing investment portfolios, and financing airplanes, homes, and business equipment for wealthy individuals. But as I look back over my career, I think I had the most fun and learned the most about what it meant to be “someone’s banker” when I was assigned to a Bank of America branch in a small farming community north of Sacramento in Arbuckle, CA. I was about 25 years old, a graduate of the bank’s management training program and had completed my first management position in a large downtown San Francisco branch. My time in the Bay Area had been incredibly fun and exciting, but ultimately, prohibitively expensive, thus my interest in moving back to the Sacramento area.

When I arrived in Arbuckle, a town of about 1700 folks with as many bars as churches, I was expected to join many of the other local business folks, including the owner of the grocery store, the owner of the appliance store, the postmaster, several bar owners, but mostly folks involved with the community’s primary industry, farming, at the local coffee shop, which if memory serves me correctly, was called Dolly’s. We’d all gather at 7 a.m. for this daily ritual of small talk and camaraderie, suck down a couple cups of Folgers coffee before everyone headed out to their respective places of business. It was during these ordinary and informal gatherings where I got my first glimpse of what it took to own and operate a successful small business, whether selling groceries or appliances or growing nuts, fruits or

vegetables. In retrospect, the seeds of friendship, shared wisdom, patience, and commitment to one’s profession that were sown into me over coffee and conversation in that small town coffee shop helped shape how I understood my responsibilities as a business partner with my clients over the rest of my banking career and continues to shape my current relationship and vocation with you as your vicar.

Truth be told, I was really looking forward to this season after Pentecost, a time during the church year oftentimes referred to as “ordinary time.” During these past six months, we’ve been busily engaged with the two very busy and emotional seasons of the year that take us through the anticipation and birth of Christ followed by his crucifixion and resurrection. We’ve celebrated the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost and now we enter into the long, “green season” of the Sundays after Pentecost, or “Ordinary Time.” Ordinary Time, however, does not mean uneventful. We will spend the bulk of the next six months delving more deeply into what Mark’s gospel has to say to us about what Jesus said and did and how this impacts our everyday and “ordinary” lives. We begin with two rather short but significant parables regarding seeds and the Kingdom of God.

The phenomenon of growth is rather interesting. As a banker, I would work with business owners on sales projections, expense allocations, and profit margins. Growth was something that could be plotted on a spreadsheet and adjustments made in order to keep the trajectory going in the right direction. Working with farmers was somewhat different. Though they too would budget for revenues and expenses, yields, and margins, unlike their non-farming friends, they would have to rely on what couldn’t be managed, the weather. I’ll never forget what one of them told me over coffee after he had completed the planting of his field; “there’s nothing more I can do. I’ve tilled the field, I’ve fertilized it, and I’ve planted the seed. It’s now out of my hands and I wait.” He continued, “you know, the growing part is God’s business.” He’d still go about his daily chores of maintaining the tractors and trucks, negotiating the price of his crop, and scheduling what needed to be done to operate a successful operation, but as for what was sown, there was nothing left for him to do. Like the scatterer of seed in today’s

first parable, this fellow does not know how the season will progress but his wisdom in knowing that the actual growth of the seed was out of his hands brought a sense of freedom to his work and enabled him to plan for the ultimate harvest.

Or what of the second parable, that of the small mustard seed that when it is grown becomes the largest of all shrubs and provides shade in its branches for the birds of the air? From what I read, the mustard tree grows wildthroughoutmuchoftheMiddleEastandAfrica. Fromthistinyseed however it often grows to as much as twenty-five feet tall, has one and a half to three inch leaves, and can survive on less than eight inches of water per year. It is an excellent and plentiful food source for many desert animals such as goats and camels. This image seems very much like the kingdom to me: they both grow everywhere, you can’t control it, and it offers respite and sustenance for all those who encounter it.

Both of these parables are great illustrations that from small beginnings come great harvests. But they also serve as a reminder that what many of Jesus’ disciples were looking for, the great kingdom of God that would come in their own time and militarily free them from the oppression of the Romans, is not the kingdom of which Jesus preached. The Kingdom of God that Jesus proclaims will arrive in ways unexpected, unseen, and within God’s timetable. The growth of the Kingdom of God that started with Jesus and his band of followers has spread and is at hand throughout the world, like that of wild mustard seed trees, providing provision and shelter for all his followers. This growth is exemplified by what has happened on the continent of Africa. In 1900, there were approximately 4 million confirmed Christians; today, that number is in excess of 400 million. This is what the scattering of seed, even the size of a mustard seed, will produce when God is in charge of the increase.

So what do these growth parables have to do with us in the here and now? I think there are several ideas for us to discern and ponder. First, we are responsible for the sowing of seeds, we are not responsible for their growth. Each one of us here today is an evolving, growing disciple of

Christ because at some point we experienced the love of God through an experience or another person. For example, I’ve heard numerous stories during my time in the diocese about the impact that Camp Cross has had on those who’ve attended. Those seeds of experience and relationship profoundly shaped the lives of many campers. Those rich experiences were then shared with others, renewing the sowing process for generations of future campers.

Our job is to scatter the seeds of love, compassion, hope, truth, patience, and joy as generously as we can, as often as we can, and wherever we can. Maybe this takes the form of a small gesture of a friendly smile to someone who really needed it, or the sharing of your faith story, or your encouraging someone down on their luck. Maybe it’s in the ordinary ways we humbly offer mercy, show respect, and through acts of genuine kindness. All these are the seeds of Christ that are readily available for sowing into the lives of others. While we may not always see the ultimate fruit of our labors, we know that God is using that which we have scattered for his purposes and glory.

The second idea that has been percolating this week involves us joining with Christians in scattering the seeds of Christ throughout our community. Think of how many more opportunities to share the story of Jesus might appear if we gathered and planned with our Presbyterian, Methodist, Lutheran, Roman Catholic, and others of like mind in spreading the seeds of the Good News of Jesus Christ here in the greater Sandpoint area. We are not in competition with our brothers and sisters in Christ; we are the collective Body of Christ. While we will continue to make plans and seek opportunities to grow spiritually as a congregation, these plans are not the seeds; our lives are the seeds, the story of Jesus and the Kingdom of God are the seeds that can change lives.

My friends, the growth of the Kingdom of God is mysterious. Fortunately, we don’t have to figure it out, just do our part. During our clericus meeting earlier this week, we began with the study of the story of Zacchaeus, that small-of-stature tax collector who climbed a tree to see who this Jesus was and where he was going. It has often been discussed that this moment when Jesus tells Zacchaeus to come down from the tree because he wants to visit with him at his house, was the turning point in Zacchaeus’ life. But Jake brought up an interesting take: what was it that drove Zacchaeus to climb the tree in the first place? Why was he interested in seeing Jesus? Maybe, Jake said, it was because someone had planted a seed in Zacchaeus’ heart that prodded his interest, that began the process of self-reflection, and that motivated him to consider a new way of living. It wasn’t the immediate interaction with Jesus, rather his interaction might have been a response to what he was seeking, to an idea uttered during an otherwise ordinary conversation with someone. We don’t know and I surmise it’s not our job to know. I do think it’s for us to plant a seed in the Zacchaeus that we encounter and let God do whatever it takes to bring that seed to flower. May it be so.

Pentecost 2, 2021

2nd Sunday after Pentecost

Genesis 3:8-15
Psalm 130
2 Corinthians 4:13-5:1 Mark 3:20-35

“If a kingdom is divided against itself that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself that house will not be able to stand.” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Division. Separation. Exclusion. Fear. Isolation. All of these realities have been around since Adam and Eve decided to respond to the great lie from the serpent and ate of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil that we find in the 3rd chapter of Genesis. God placed Adam and Eve into the goodness, wholeness, and serenity of the Garden of Eden to tend and nurture the land and to be in right relationship with God. Yet it didn’t take long for evil to slither it’s way into the garden and sow the seeds of doubt and the desire to “be like God” that resulted in Adam and Eve hiding from God, afraid of their creator, because they were naked. What began as the perfect union between God and his creation was fractured, and the subsequent consequences have been a part of the human condition ever since.

The disorder brought about by the insidious reality of division, separation, isolation, and fear runs deep and wide. All one has to do is watch the headlines on cable news, listen to talk radio for one segment, and read various printed materials from big-city newspapers to national magazines to get a full dose of the hate, hubris, self-absorbed pride, exclusion, and vitriol that resides in the attitudes and behaviors of so many, including those who call themselves Christians. Sometimes the media reflects what it sees happening around them, other times they represent it. Daily acts of gun violence, unprovoked physical assaults against some of the most vulnerable members of our communities, race-baiting, and the degrading of other human beings via platforms such as Twitter and Facebook, saturate

the culture of this country and of those around the world. The division in this country over politics, race, gender, and economics, has resulted in a deepening sense of tribalism and individualism. The evil embodied in the form of a snake in the garden is alive and continues ruthlessly looking for new victims and creating chaos at breakneck speed. We are a fractured part of God’s good creation and we need to have the fragmented pieces of our lives and those of our neighbors put back together.

From the opening of Mark’s gospel, the evangelist portrays Jesus’ ministry as that of proclaiming the coming kingdom of God against that of the kingdom of this world, the calling of his band of followers, and healing those with unclean spirits and unhealthy bodies. Whether sick with demons, leprosy, or paralized, it was these illnesses that divided these individuals from the wider community. Their outer appearance of demonic possession or physical disease resulted in an inner conflict in the form of isolation and depression. They lived fractured lives to which the world offered no relief. Their proverbial houses had been overtaken by the strong man, the sower of deception and despair.

My guess is that each one of us here today has dealt with a divided house, where unity with others and ourselves was broken, or at least fractured. I’ve known of folks with divided houses due to addiction, both of drugs and alcohol. I’ve been around folks who lived in divided houses centered around the ill will associated with a bi-racial relationship of one of their children. I’ve interacted with families dealing with the internal division of guilt and anger resulting from the unexpected suicide of a family member. During my time as a banker, I was involved with a divided house over the decision of a child to have gender reassignment surgery with funds from their inherited trust fund over which I had some discretion and influence. We’ve all known those whose marriages failed and resulted in the division of divorce. The ubiquitous division and hostility over political ideas, affiliations, and the role of government has created anger and mistrust to levels I have never previously experienced. The strong man has bound many with the ropes of discord, racism, impatience, arrogance, and self-importance.

I also suspect there have been times when we have been divided in our own souls, when our “outside” lives didn’t match with our “inner” lives. I know I have spent way too much of my time and energy over the years fighting the outward picture of how I wanted to be “seen” while fully recognizing the inward, disconnected reality that knew the truth of my circumstances. In my case, it was trying to appear “financially successful,” an outward persona that had been fueled with living beyond my means and the need to be accepted by my professional peer group which created an internal anxiety of being a fraud and failure. Or consider how many times you and I have fragmented our lives into various compartments: our work lives, our social lives, our professional lives, our family lives, and our faith lives? We have been created to live lives of abundance inspired by the Holy Spirit, the fruits of which offer joy, hope, peace, and wholeness. Lives grounded in division, intentional or not, are not the lives that Jesus has called us to. Lives bound up in anxiety, frustration, addiction, hypocrisy, and unrealistic expectations cannot be made whole by our own efforts. Jesus, the one John the Baptist described as “the one more powerful” awaits to set you and me free from all that entangles us. Yes, the strong man, the serpent is formidable, but Jesus is more powerful still.

Dear friends, before Jesus can do for us what we cannot do for ourselves, we must first come to grips with our own brokenness. My need to be “seen” by others as financially successful literally wore me out. The only option for renewal was to humble myself and acknowledge before Jesus that I was broken. This step was incredibly painful but my distorted view of myself had to be given over to Jesus before he was free to go to work on me and reorient my understanding of what being successful meant and looked like. Today’s gospel reading reminds me, reminds us that we’re not alone in needing to acknowledge our own brokenness and offer it to Jesus. There is no shame in admitting our brokenness, for until we do, we will continue to be bound to it. As flawed human beings, we will continue to struggle with the vagaries of life that negatively impact us. Our thoughts and actions are not always driven by love and charity. We will make mistakes and occasionally find ourselves wrapped in the cords that bind us

to the worst parts of ourselves. But the good news is that the power and strength of Jesus is greater than anything, anyone, or any circumstance that confronts us. The liberation we seek awaits us but it can’t come to fruition until we allow Jesus, the master healer, to pick up the broken pieces of our lives and to reshape the picture of who we were to whom we are becoming. The strong man will always seek to entangle us yet the stronger one, God himself, will release us to become the people we were created to be. The full and ordered mosaic of our lives, seen through the eyes of Jesus, is one filled with joy, peace, hope, love, compassion, and wholeness. That, my friends, is good news indeed!

Trinity Sunday - Pentecost 1, 2021

The First Sunday after Pentecost: Trinity Sunday

Isaiah 6:1-8 Psalm 29 Romans 8:12-17 John 3:1-17

“Almighty and everlasting God, you have given us your servants grace, by the confession of a true faith, to acknowledge the glory of the eternal Trinity, and in the power of your divine Majesty to worship the Unity.” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen

I’m slowly but surely learning that whatever I “think” I might be preaching about any given Sunday is always up for revision. I have a routine in how I approach the lectionary texts for the upcoming week that include an ecumenical clergy discussion with clerics from local congregations as we discuss what they’re thinking and what themes are appearing from the readings as we plan to put together our respective sermons, a day of lectio divina, a contemplative attempt of reading the scriptures, followed by studying several commentaries, notes from seminary classes, and reflecting on my life experiences that might bring some specificity and color to the sermon. I mentioned to the Bible study class this last Tuesday that the likelihood of me taking on the “task”, rather the “opportunity” to expound on the doctrine of the Trinity was virtually zero. I was all geared up for studying Nicodemus’ interaction with Jesus as my number one option for today’s sermon and yet, here I am on this First Sunday after Pentecost, offering several thoughts on a basic tenet of our faith, the mystery of the Trinity.

I think it is a fair and accurate statement that as Episcopalians, we tend to embrace the ambiguous, the mystery, the aspects of faith that seem both paradoxical and confounding. Our faith takes into account the critical importance of inspired Scripture, the traditions handed down from the ancient “Fathers” of the Church, and the sense of personal responsibility and agency in using our God-given intellect as ways we seek to encounter

God, in other words, the proverbial three-legged stool of Scripture, Tradition, and Reason. Our Anglican ethos frames and encourages us to embrace and engage the mysteries of God as we collectively journey on our pilgrimages of faith together, even when our ideas about these mysteries rub against each other. The exploration of our faith and what we believe is honed in our conversations with one another as we seek the guidance of divine inspiration. In many ways we hold our faith lightly, willing to revel in the wonder and majesty of God. We are a people of the Incarnation, that God revealed himself in flesh and bone and died a human death. We acknowledge and seek the wisdom of the Holy Spirit as we discern “next steps” and “what-ifs” as the wind of renewal inspires us.

One of these conversations took place during the Bible study this past Tuesday. We always have good discussions, raise good questions, explore different possibilities, affirm various insights, and ponder how God is present to us in the readings and our experiences. As we grappled with the ideas surrounding the Trinity, one of the participants interjected that when she prays, it’s primarily offered to “God the Father,” an image of God within the Trinity with which several others concurred. This idea of “seeing” or “understanding” God predominantly as “Father” got me thinking of my own experiences with this Triune God and how we might inadvertently put God in a box when we limit ourselves to one understanding of the Godhead, either as Father, Son, or Holy Spirit.

As you know, I was raised in the Baptist tradition and even though the church of my youth was rather formal in style, Jesus was the center of our devotion and worship. This Jesus-centric understanding of God revealed the urgency of having a personal relationship with Jesus as our Savior. This relationship was critical to our chances for salvation and it was up to us individually to affirm our desire for Christ through the weekly service-ending altar call. I remember attending a Billy Graham Crusade at the Oakland Coliseum with two other busses filled with folks from the church and many of us responded to Dr. Graham’s call to come forward at the end of the service for prayer and to receive Christ as our Lord and Savior. I remembered the assembled choir singing verse after verse of

“Just as I Am” as we made our way down the aisle to the baseball diamond infield. As I looked back, my memory was that Jesus was God-in-the-flesh, that my relationship with him could be that of a brother. This image of Jesus as God was the one to whom I directed my prayers and offered my thanks and worship. But as I matured in my faith, this idea of such an intimate relationship with Jesus as if he were my brother started to nudge me to explore other ideas and aspects of who God was and I subsequently found myself attending several Presbyterian churches during my time at college and after accepting my first professional job.

The experiences with these three Presbyterian churches could not have been more different than what I experienced growing up in the Baptist church. God, presumably intentionally articulated as “Father”, was front-and-center. The style of worship, the prayers offered, the music sung, and the sermon’s intent consistently reflected the first person of the Godhead. Unlike the “familiar” God in the form of Jesus I experienced in the Baptist church, my Presbyterian prism reflected a God of majesty, mystery, hidden “somewhere up there.” The piety exhibited was one of reverence and awe and all three congregations were well mannered, appropriately dressed, and where the coffee hours were times of cordiality and proper pleasantries.

Truth be told, I’ve never attended a Pentacostal church and I probably have some stereotypes of what God looks like for this strand of the Christian faith. That said, one of the families in my neighborhood growing up was always referred to as “Holy Rollers.” One day I was riding the school bus after school when one of the sisters in the family sat down next to me. While I knew who she was, we weren’t really friends. The route from the school back to the neighborhood took us past a church painted white and a rather plain sign out front painted with red letters that identified it as Northgate Pentecostal Church in Christ. She mentioned to me that that was where her family attended and we got to chatting. After a few minutes of what seemed like small talk, I finally blurted out the question: “What is a Holy Roller?” to which she shrieked in laughter. Over the next several bus rides we talked about how the Holy Ghost was alive and well and that if you

were filled with the Holy Ghost, you would most likely find yourself flailing and dancing like a crazy person. She mentioned that it hadn’t happened to her yet, but it had happened plenty of times to members of her family. She said that the church was a tight knit group and not many visitors showed up as they were probably too scared to come through the door.

The only piece of accepted Christian doctrine I’ll offer today is taken from the Athanasian Creed, a historic creed from the 5th century found in the Book of Common Prayer within the section titled Historical Documents. It reads in part:

And the Catholic Faith is this: That we worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity, neither confounding the Person, nor dividing the Substance.

For there is one Person of the Father, another of the Son, and another of the Holy Ghost.

But the Godhead of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, is all one, the Glory equal, the Majesty co-eternal.

It continues:
So there is one Father, not three Fathers; one Son, not three Sons;

one Holy Ghost, not three Holy Ghosts.

From this doctrine, the Prayer Book’s Catechism deals specifically with the issue of the Trinity in this way:

With respect to God the Father, the Catechism states “We learn that there is one God, the Father Almighty, creator of heavens and earth, of all this is, seen and unseen.”

With respect to the Son, “that Jesus is the only perfect image of the Father, and shows us the nature of God.”

With respect to the Holy Spirit, “The Holy Spirit is the Third Person of the Trinity, God at work in the world and in the Church even now.”

My friends, it seems to me that we will experience the fullest expression of God when we learn to embrace all three Persons of the Trinity. If we ignore any of the three we run the risk of missing out on the bountiful riches of our relationship with this Triune God. As we continue with our service, listen intently to the depth of our Trinitarian understanding of who God is as we encounter the Trinity in the Nicene Creed, the Absolution of Sins, the Eucharistic Prayer, the hymns, and the Blessing. We are a trinitarian people and as we embrace the majesty of the Father, the intimacy of the Son, and the wisdom and wonder of the Holy Spirit, we will encounter and experience God in new and exciting ways, ways that change us from who we are to who we can become.

Pentecost, 2021

Pentecost Sunday

Ezekiel 37:1-14
Psalm 104:25-35, 35, 37 Acts 2:1-21
John 15:26-27, 16:4b-15

“And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

I think it’s safe to say from today’s readings that when the Holy Spirit shows up, something pretty amazing happens!

I absolutely love the imagery that is depicted in our reading from Ezekiel: a valley filled with bleach-white, dead, dead, dead bones. These are the remains of Israel’s army that had been slaughtered in battle and their bodies left to the animals and elements. There was nothing left but disjointed and scattered bones throughout the whole of the valley. And yet....the story tells us that Ezekiel is led by the hand of the Lord to this valley of dry bones in a vision and God asks Ezekiel, “Mortal, can these bones live?” at which point he is then commanded to prophesy to the bones and sure enough, there’s a noise, a rattling, and the bones come together. Not only were the bones back in place, sinews, flesh, and skin appear on these bones. But appearances can be deceiving; for there was no life in these newly rebuilt bodies. So God has Ezekiel prophesy to the wind, the Ruach Adoni, the Spirit of God, and the wind came and breathed into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude. The Spirit showed up and an amazing thing happened!

From a portion of the Psalm appointed for today, the psalmist provides two very important claims: that God provides all creatures with the food they need and gives them the breath of life, both of which they must have in order to survive. This second claim draws us back to the second chapter of Genesis where God formed man of dust from the ground and breathed into

his nostrils the breath of life and man became a living soul. The Spirit showed up and an amazing thing happened!

The Spirit has been active in a variety of ways in Scripture. In Matthew’s Gospel, an angel visits Joseph in a dream and tells him not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. In Luke we have another angel assuring Mary that the Holy Spirit would come upon her and the power of the Most High would overshadow her. We read in Mark’s Gospel about Jesus’ baptism by John the Baptist and Jesus seeing the heavens being torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. John the Evangelist speaks of the Spirit as that of “the wind blowing wherever it chooses and you hear the sound of it but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.” And in the first chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, Jesus tells his disciples that they will be baptised by the Holy Spirit and that they will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon them and this power will propel them to become his witnesses in all of Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. When the Spirit showed up, amazing things happened.

In today’s reading from Acts, we find the disciples and other followers of Jesus frightened, anxious, and alone. The Spirit strikes suddenly, unexpectedly, frighteningly, like a mighty wind, and blows them out into the streets with multilingual speaking skills to which the only reasonable explanation is that they are drunk. The arrival of the Holy Spirit has stirred things up. Things have changed. New ways of being God’s people are now coming together. The Holy Spirit showed up and amazing, bewildering, perplexing, and astonishing things happened!

Jesus tells his disciples, including us, that the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, will convey power to his followers. This Spirit-driven power is the energy behind our ability to witness, to testify to what we have heard, seen, and experienced in our encounters with Jesus. This is the power that takes our witness into the streets of our community, to our family and friends, so that all might experience this wild, creative, energizing and breath-driven way of life. With the help of the Advocate, the one who “comes alongside us,” we

are empowered to testify to the truth that the way of Jesus, the way of love, compassion, hope, and wholeness is the way of real life, a life that questions and rejects many of the values of this world. We will not last long in the world without the Advocate’s help because we will no doubt be pushed and challenged by our witness. Gone are the days when the institutional church held sway and political power in the wider culture; it’s now our job as Spirit-filled Christians to carry this message of love, mercy, and life into the world that is filled with bleach-white bones. Many around us may look alive on the outside but are dead on the inside and probably don’t even know it.

We all share a connected moment that was led by the Spirit. I know I discussed this with the Bishop’s Committee during my interview. Once the bishop asked whether I might be interested in serving here, there wasn’t a day afterwards that I didn’t pray for guidance of the Spirit in discerning this potential opportunity. At the same time, the Bishop’s Committee was doing the exact same thing. I am convinced that I am here because the Spirit led both of us in discerning the will of God and how our individual hopes and dreams might come together. What really makes this a “Spirit story” is that we were each transparent as we articulated who we were and what we were looking for as you sought to call your next vicar. The Spirit moved and we’re experiencing some amazing times of growth and vitality.

My friends, Pentecost is a clear and resounding call for life and hope; We have spent the past 50 days remembering that Jesus died to free us from death and today we celebrate the arrival of the the Spirit that brings us life, a life that might very well have others wondering just what’s going on with us. This Spirit-infused life is mysterious. It cannot be controlled. Yet sometimes we can feel it inside us, driving us, directing us, comforting us, encouraging us to follow its lead. The Holy Spirit magnifies our own spirits, making us more of who we already are. Whether like the sound of a violent rushing wind, or the breeze through the trees, whether like a dove or like tongues of fire, the Holy Spirit is alive and well and stands ready to join us as witness to the life-saving power that shows the way of the cross to be

the way to life. When the Spirit shows up, amazing and life-altering things happen! Thanks be to God.

Easter 7, 2021

Sermon 5/16/21 7th Sunday in Easter 

Just what is Eternal Life?

As many of you are intimately familiar, cancer treatments are not fun.  There is a wide spectrum, and wide degrees of tolerance.  Initially, I was pretty tolerant, but as time dragged on, with no end in sight, I got seriously discouraged. 

I was pretty young, 29, and young in my faith, so like many before me who are faced with difficult situations in life, I decided to turn my attention to working to make my faith stronger.  I’d been given one of those little pocket New Testament and Psalms books people used to hand out on street corners.  They have indexes that have Where to Find Help passages pertaining to life’s problems like when you are sick, or in pain, discouraged, anxious, lonely, etc.  I started there, and then began to read study bibles and commentaries.  I really dove in. 

At some point, I came to a hard realization.  Nowhere did it say in this greatly heralded book that God would deliver me from my suffering.  Oh man!  That was a rude awakening.  I wanted to escape this brutal regime of surgeries and chemotherapy – to be bailed out.  Talk about disappointed!  God wasn’t going to save me from this misery? What the heck was he good for then?  Sorry, I know this sounds a bit irreverent…  I’m just being honest about my feelings!

I began to search for what God did promise.  One of those promises I found was that God promised Eternal life. 

Eternal life.  That was an abstract idea that I couldn’t really wrap my head around.  So, I began to pray regularly for the spirit of God to reveal to me what eternal life is, so that this “great gift” would mean something to me – so that I could appreciate it!

You know, it wasn’t until I started to prepare for this sermon that I realized the fullness of how God had answered that prayer. 

Like a lot of people, I initially thought that Eternal Life had to do with the duration of life – life beyond the grave.  And this alone, was a tremendous blessing to me as I was told there was no cure for the cancer I had, and helped me to accept the prospect of an early bodily death.   And it isn’t wrong to understand we will have life beyond this world, it’s just… incomplete. 

The reading from First John this morning refers to Eternal life.  “God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life.

I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, so that you may know that you have eternal life.” 

I don’t know about you, but to me that is pretty nebulous.  Clear as mud, so to speak.  The good thing about being nebulous is that we are motivated to look deeper.

We read in the passage just before today’s gospel that Eternal Life actually has less to do with time than with quality of life.  

Earlier in John 17, Christ is praying, speaking of himself.  Quote: “For you granted him authority over all people that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him.”  And then he clarifies what he means by eternal life.  “Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.” 

“Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.”

Eternal Life is knowing the only true God, and Jesus Christ?  We don’t have to wait for death to experience it!  This kind of knowing isn’t just “a casual,

‘Oh yeah, I know God, I know Jesus.”  Knowing God and Jesus is a lifelong journey, not a casual introduction.

Jesus, praying to his father said, “I made your name known to those whom you gave me.”  The word NAME in the bible means much more than just what something is called.  The word Name implies true nature and true character.  Jesus’ great accomplishment was to show the disciples, and all his followers the true nature and true character of God. 

As children of God we must be constantly growing in Him.  Knowing him means spending time with him.  As we grow to spiritual maturity it is the power of God that starts the work of making us more like Christ every single day.  We can be transformed daily into His likeness. 

The message of the gospel is a message of radical transformation of our life.

What I would tell my 29 year-old self today is this.  Christianity does not offer us a release from problems, but a way to solve them.  It does not offer us an easy peace, but triumphant warfare.  It does not offer us a life in which troubles are escaped and evaded, but a life in which troubles are faced and conquered. 

By being willing to suffer death on a cross Jesus brought God glory.  As Christians, we too, bring glory to God by bearing our crosses, looking to him for guidance on how he bore his.  What crosses do you bear? 

I fought feeling that cancer could in any way be compared to Jesus’ suffering.  My suffering wasn’t noble like his.  I wasn’t dying for anybody.  Yet, the way he accepted God’s will, emptying himself of what might have been his own agenda, putting one foot in front of the other, he modeled how we are to be.  His closeness with the father was not only enough, but more desirable to him than any short-lived comfort. 

As we follow Jesus, we can grasp that eternal life is available to us in the here and now. We can live this life in such a way that we are not chasing things that don’t last but chasing the things that do last and have eternal significance. This type of life has eternal impact not only for us but for untold others around us.

When Jesus says he came so that we might have life, and have it more abundantly, he is giving us a better way to live our lives. He is showing us that following him daily in faith, will lead us to a better, richer, more meaningful life than we could ever find on our own.

This gospel passage calls us to set ourselves apart for God’s purposes in the world.  “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you?  To act justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.”

The purpose of the Gospel message is not that we withdraw from society to be set apart, but that we speak truth, create justice and offer mercy.  This is the example that Jesus sets for us in his life, death, and resurrection.

Jesus did not ask for his disciples to be taken out of the world.  He sends them - and us - INTO the world, and gives us the power to CHANGE the WORLD!

Easter 6, 2021

Sixth Sunday of Easter

Acts 10:44-48 Psalm 98
1 John 5:1-6 John 15:9-17

“I do not call you servants and longer...but I have called you friends.” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen

I doubt I’m much different than you all, that as a kid growing up I had LOTS of friends. I had friends I played sports with, friends I went to school with, friends I had from church. My neighborhood friends included a group of guys, our gang, if you will, that included Greg, Ralph, Eddie, Mark, and Jim. It wasn’t until I got into middle school that my circle of friends began to include girls like Jody, Marcia, Janet, and Kathy. After middle school, many of us attended the same high school where our classmates we considered friends began to ebb and flow. Oh sure, our neighborhood and school friends were still our “friends,” but the groups started to coalesce around different interests and demographics. Truth be told, I haven’t connected with any of these “friends” in over 40 years.

During my time at seminary, I had two professors at Sewanee that I thoroughly enjoyed and respected deeply. One was Dr. Colin Cornell, my New Testament professor. He was fairly young, a newly minted PhD whose emphasis was on the Psalms. He would cheerfully greet us each class with “Good morning, friends” and was quite comfortable in having us refer to him as Colin. He would occasionally join some of us at the Blue Chair, a local eatery near campus, and chat about whatever was on our minds. I think when he referred to us as “friends” he meant it as a term of endearment.

The second professor was the Rev. Dr. Julia Gatta, who had served as a parish priest for over 25 years prior to coming to Sewanee, a professor who wore her black teaching gown to class, who did not suffer fools easily, who

had a conversational yet very direct approach in her teaching style and commanded respect and decorum in her classroom. She did not offer to have us call her by her first name; it was either Mother Gatta or Dr. Gatta. Not surprisingly, both of these very accomplished individuals were highly sought out for their expertise and “personality” and it was difficult to get into their respective classes.

In a similar vein to today’s reading from John’s Gospel where Jesus says to his disciples that he no longer calls them servants but friends, Dr. Gatta tells all the seniors upon graduating that they are now colleagues and that she would be most pleased if they called her Julia. While she still holds a status different from us graduates, (she will always be a mentor and guide to me), she nonetheless now considers our relationship that of colleagues, not one of teachers and students. Our relationship is now one of “friends.”

Today’s passage continues the story of Jesus with his disciples in the Upper Room that began at the beginning of chapter 13 and runs through chapter 16, a section of John’s gospel known as the Farewell Discourse. In today’s portion, Jesus is giving some final instructions, things that need to be remembered after he’s gone. He commands them to love one another as he has loved them and that the laying down of one’s life for one’s friends is the greatest manifestation of this type of love. This love stems from God, the Father, whose love for Jesus is exemplified in Jesus’ love for the disciples. This depth of love is ultimately revealed by Jesus’ death on the cross which is to serve as an example of the love the disciples are to have for one another.

Jesus initiates the change in relationship from servant to friend with the words that he has “chosen” them and not the other way around. But Jesus’ choosing them does not negate the disciple’s free and willing choice to follow him. This new relationship has been forged in the crucible of real life through which he has shown and taught them all that the Father had shown him. The disciples are now equipped and charged to live as friends, not as servants who don’t know what is going on. As friends, they share a solemn obligation to look out for one another and they share a common mission

and purpose: to bear the fruit of love that serves the purposes of God. Just to underscore the significance of this new relationship as “friends” there are only two occasions in the Old Testament where humans are referred to as “friends of God”: Abraham in the books of 2nd Chronicles and Isaiah and by implication, Moses, in the book of Exodus. As obedient believers and now friends, we follow in the footsteps of our faithful ancestors and enter into this relationship with God that transforms our very being as we live out the commandment to love one another.

So it seems to me that we’re faced with several challenging questions in light of today’s reading: Who are your/my friends? For whom will you and I lay down our lives? What does laying down one’s life entail?

For me, as I have gained a little maturity and perspective, I have come to realize that I have had TONS of acquaintances and very few “friends” during my life. Over the years I developed cordial relationships with many folks yet very few with deep and abiding connections. I’d like to think that if push-came-to-shove I would give up my life for one of these dear friends while hoping that I do not have to face this reality. But the love that we are to have for one another that Jesus talks about goes beyond our feelings; it is a decision we must make each and every day. As I mentioned last week, this decision to love as Jesus loves is nurtured in the same daily discipleship grounded in prayer, worship, and service that keeps us abiding in the vine of Christ. This choice to abide and love is a way of life that has as its core the welfare of the other. It is a decision we make as “friends” of Jesus and not as servants.

As friends of Jesus, we lay something down of ourselves when we serve someone else, when we express God’s love to those we like and to those we don’t. We lay something down of ourselves when our concern for the welfare of someone else drives our decision making process. We lay something down of ourselves when we’re willing to serve than be served, to be last and not first, to wash feet and not wage a war. I don’t know about you, but this happens when I lay down my need to “be right” and take the time to truly listen to the other person or when I lay down my desire to “fix”

things in order to let situations play out more organically and healthful. When we lay down something of ourselves that brings joy to the downtrodden, that offers hope to the hopeless, that seeks justice and not revenge, we live the love to which Jesus speaks and demonstrates. This love emanates from a friendship with Jesus that can only grow and expand as we give it away. This type of love is grounded in self-sacrifice, for everytime we lay something down of ourselves, we are actually laying down our lives for another.

Dear friends, by God’s grace and your willingness to share yourselves with me, I now have the joy and privilege to count you all as “friends.” I’ve seen and experienced the love that lives in this place and among you all. It’s obvious to me that the love we share among us goes well beyond feelings of goodwill and kind thoughts. The love I see in this place has an energy to it that is contagious. The love that I’ve experienced in my short time with you clearly demonstrates that you’ve been “friends’ with Jesus for a long time. My prayer is that you will continue to give away the love that dwells within you, that you will bear fruit that fulfills the purpose of God for your lives, that this community will know that we are committed followers of the Risen Lord by our love for one another and by the joy of Christ that shines in your faces.

Thanks be to God.

Easter 5, 2021

Fifth Sunday of Easter

Acts 8:26-40 Psalm 22:24-30 1 John 4:7-21 John 15:1-8

“Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” Amen

For most of my life I’ve held in tension the competing strands of thought, the ideals of “rugged individualism” and of being part of a “community.” The events of my life have certainly shaped the way I think and feel about these two ways of understanding in terms of how I live and function within society. I grew up attending a church where sin and its consequences heavily influenced how I understood God, a church that emphasized the need for me to have a personal relationship with God to secure my salvation and entrance into heaven.

The ideal of “self-reliance” became the byword in my home after the death of my father. Me, my mother and little sister had to “pull ourselves up from our bootstraps,” where I was to be the “man of the house,” and where we learned to take care of ourselves if we were going to succeed and blossom as a single-parent family. While we certainly had friends and strong connections to folks within our neighborhood and church, we nonetheless functioned as good, responsible individuals and family that relied on our faith in God and our own resources and determination to forge a life that was safe and fostered a sense of wellbeing. In some respects, we were a “self-made” family.

It wasn’t until my wife and I enrolled our two young sons into parochial school that I began to better understand what it meant to be a part of a “community,” where our individual journeys of faith were woven with others and where we collectively experienced the movement of the Holy Spirit

among us. It was within this new “community” that I began to appreciate the wider Christian story as that of a “people” and not as a bunch of disparate individuals. We were still unique individuals with our own stories, but now the emphasis was on how we lived, learned, and expressed our faith as part of God’s people, a “community” built on the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. My need to be self-reliant and a responsible person of society had been grafted into the desire of being a part of something bigger, more powerful, more energizing. Life within the community context afforded opportunities for growth and connectedness.

In today’s reading from John’s Gospel we get a rather straightforward look at what life “in-Christ” looks like. In the very familiar story of the vine and the branches, Jesus details for the disciples the need to be rooted in relationship with him as he is with the Father. Jesus makes it clear that God the Father is the vine-grower, that he is the vine, and that the disciples are the branches; all are interdependent on each other for growth and fruitfulness. Being and staying connected is what produces the desired result. This Old Testament image of being fruitful speaks to the community's faithfulness to God. The Hebrew Scriptures are replete with stories of how Israel (the vine) had been unfaithful and had suffered the consequences for their unfaithfulness. In John, Jesus is the “new vine” into which we must abide in conjunction with God if we are to be fruitful. Being fruitful is the result of being rooted, of being nurtured and pruned as needed in order to maintain a life-giving, fruit-bearing life. As with Israel, if we are not rooted into the life-giving vine of Jesus, if we think we can be a branch “on our own” we become like pieces of dead wood. We cannot bear fruit by squeezing it out of ourselves but by being connected to the vine. Apart from the vine, the branches have no eternal value or ability to produce fruit, thus they are discarded. These are hard words to hear and I read several commentaries that offered less harsh interpretations. While we can debate the disposition of these dead branches, the truth remains that growth and lives of bearing fruit can only happen when we are connected to the vine, the true source of our lives. This vine imagery symbolizes how our lives, shaped within the Christian community, are forged in love and intertwined with the abiding presence of God and Jesus.

This love defines our relationship as a community with one another, with our neighbors, and with God and Jesus.

The primary theme of the whole of chapter 15 has to do with “abiding.” This “abiding” speaks to the relationship between God, Jesus, and the wider community. This sense of “abiding” is grounded in mutuality and presence. When we are abiding with Jesus, we’re not only following his commandment, we’re also bearing fruit. But how do we “abide” with Jesus?

When Jesus says to “abide in me”, I think he’s talking about a personal relationship with him that is grounded in daily acts of discipleship. I’m talking about a life centered in prayer, obedience, and service that is based on trust, intimacy, and connection. These acts of daily discipleship lie at the core of our faith and result in lives where we experience and exhibit love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. When we are grafted into the vine that is Christ, our lives take on a sense of purpose and we find true strength. Who wouldn’t want that, right?

One other aspect of a life rooted in the vine of Christ is that our prayers are answered. Why is that? It’s the result of our lives being transformed by being so intertwined with Jesus. When we’re drawing our strength and purpose from Jesus, when our worship, prayer, and service is offered in glory to God, when how we think and behave is grounded in love, a love that seeks the good of the other, our prayers will reflect this abiding relationship. Our prayers will reflect the work of the vine-grower. When our prayers are aligned with the purposes of God, of course they will be answered.

My friends, today’s gospel offers us two options for living. We can choose to go it alone, to utilize our own strength and resources and to rely on our cultural norms of self-reliance. To be sure, there is much positive to be said about being responsible for ourselves in many facets of our lives. That said, the resources that allow us to abide in Christ already reside within us.

This deep, abiding love of God dwells richly within us and the Holy Spirit awaits to unleash this power. The power of God’s Word studied diligently, the offering of our sacrifices of praise and thanksgiving, our acts of service to one another motivated by God’s indwelling love for us, in other words, the discipled- life of a follower of Jesus, will change everything. It will change our priorities, our relationships, and our ability to produce amazing fruit to God’s glory and for his kingdom. When lived by the power of love generated by the vine of Christ and nurtured by God the vine-grower, the world will truly know that we are Christians and God will bless our faithfulness and fruitfulness. May it be so.

Easter 4, 2021

The 4th Sunday of Easter

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

As I studied and prepared for this week’s sermon, I was transported back in time to my home church when I participated in a formal gathering of other young people who were preparing for baptism; most of us were 12, 13, or 14 years old. One aspect of our learning was to memorize various portions of Scripture that included John 3:16, John 1:1-5, Genesis 1:1-5, The Beatitudes, The Ten Commandments, and today’s selection from the Psalter, Psalm 23. Little did I realize at the time how crucial these specific passages, along with the continuing unfolding of Scripture over time, would form the touchstone for my life that continues to shape who I am still becoming as a follower of Christ. I remember fondly the Rev. Dr. Wilbur Christians and Eddie and Anita Iwata, deeply committed Christian teachers who were instrumental to my religious upbringing. I give thanks to God for them and the other unsung heroes of the faith, both men and women, ordained and lay, who were part of the planting and nurturing of spiritual seeds, especially during my teen and college years that have, at least in part, resulted in my being with you in this time and place. I doubt that I am alone and suspect I speak for many of you this morning who were taught the ways of faith and Christian living by loving and dedicated shepherds over the course of your lives.

Speaking of Psalm 23, it is obviously one of the most famous within the Psalter. I suspect many of us can recite it by heart. For some, it brings to mind the ubiquitous painting of Jesus with a small lamb wrapped over his shoulders, a very soft and serene image depicting the loving nature of Jesus. It reminds us of the parable of the lost sheep found in both Matthew and Luke’s gospels, where the shepherd leaves the ninety nine sheep in order to find and return the one that has gone missing. Truth be told, this portrayal of the “good shepherd” did hang in the main hallway of the Baptist

church I grew up in. It was also in the fellowship hall of the Baptist church I attended while I was away at college. For what it’s worth, it wasn’t a part of the artwork in either of the two Presbyterian churches I attended when I firstbeganmyprofessionalcareerintheBayArea. Forothersitbringsto mind funerals, offering consolation and hope in the midst of grief and pain. Either way, I think it speaks to each of us personally because it reflects our own needs to be cared for and protected.

To underscore the personal nature of this psalm, first person pronouns of “I”, “me”, and “my'', are throughout all six verses. Notice how the relationship between the author, David, and God transitions between David talking “about'' God's provision, to speaking “to” God about God’s presence and blessings. This transition highlights that David and God are “in relationship.” So whether we encounter this psalm as a source of confidence or consolation, it truly does provide us with the opportunity to engage with God in a very personal and intimate way. For me, this sense of being intimate with God, this sense of being cared for and protected elicits similar emotions to when I hear the hymn Abide with Me being sung or hear bagpipes play Amazing Grace, a palpable sign of God’s very real and abiding presence.

Another critical feature of this psalm, building on the relational aspect just mentioned, is that with the Lord as our shepherd, the one who guides and leads us, the one who goes with us through times of pain and confusion in the dark valleys of our lives, the one who provides times of rest and comfort, this good shepherd assures us that none of us shall be in want, or put another way, none of us shall lack anything we need. Think about that for a minute. Do you lack anything you need? Do I? Let’s reframe the question: “What really matters that I do not have?” “What, when the hour of our death arrives, do we dare not lack?”

I couldn’t help but think of the story of the “rich young ruler” that is found in all three of the synoptic gospels. The young fellow wants to know how to obtain eternal life. Jesus reminds him of the commandments to which the man replies that he’s followed them since his youth. Then Jesus tells him

to sell everything he had, give the proceeds to the poor, and come follow him. This distresses the young fellow for he had many possessions. So, what did he lack? He lacked a relationship with God. His possessions had become his idol and priority, not having a priority that centered around his relationship with God. He replaced trust in God with possessions as these same possessions became a source of meaning and identity for him. Psalm 23 takes on a deeper reality for each of us when we come to grips with the fact that God will provide what we each need and to trust in his provision, not our retirement accounts or other material or emotional possessions. God is the only cause which allows us to say, “I lack nothing.”

I have a couple final thoughts on the value and significance of this psalm. First, it struck me that we’re not asked to “do” anything; we’re just to be willing to be led, to rest, to not fear, to enjoy a great meal, to soak up goodness and mercy, and finally to dwell with the Lord for ever. So much of scripture is filled with things that call us to imitate the life of Jesus: to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, comfort the orphaned and widows, visit prisoners, and love our neighbors as ourselves. Psalm 23 has us not only being protected by God, we’re also hosted by God to a banquet to end all banquets and to live in the joy of his grace and mercy. That said, as we more fully embrace this aspect of God’s care and love for us, we are nonetheless charged to let others know of this reality, a reality that is offered freely and to all. This reality is also for the hungry, naked, orphaned and widowed, prisoners and our neighbors.

And finally, this psalm offers us a glimpse of heaven, a dwelling place with God for eternity. One of the metaphors for life is that of a journey. This psalm takes us to pastures offering rest and restoration, through paths of clear and unobstructed paths of peace, through valleys of various trials, and to a place of food and enjoyment. I suspect that in each of our DNAs there resides a yearning for home after a life of traveling the roads of life.
I recognize that not everyone has experienced a great childhood or homelife, so the idea of yearning for home in this context doesn’t resonate. I nonetheless guess that whether it was the home of grandparents, aunts and uncles, or classmates, there is still a place that speaks to the love,

care, safety, and warm and genuine relationships we all desire. Mine was my grandparent Postell’s home in Gastonia, NC. It was filled with the smell of fried okra and peach fried pies. It was a place where a cold Mountain Dew awaited me and my cousins after an afternoon of riding our bikes. It was a place where grandpa would watch game shows and wrestling matches on TV and act like he was in the audience. It was a place where when grandma hugged us, we couldn’t breathe because she hugged us so tightly.

I think this is what the psalmist David is talking about when he writes of having a table spread before him, having the honor of oil poured on his head, of having a cup running over while being embraced with God’s goodness and mercy. Whether our memories on this temporal journey are joyful or challenging, God promises a dwelling where we will experience his joys of heaven forever.

Sir Isaac Watts, affectionately known as the Godfather of English hymnody as a result of him being credited with writing some 750 hymns, was an English Christian minister and theologian who lived from the late 15th century to the middle of the 16th century. His paraphrase of Psalm 23 remains one of my favorite pieces of music of all time:

My Shepherd will supply my need: Jehovah is His Name;

In pastures fresh He makes me feed, Beside the living stream.

He brings my wandering spirit back When I forsake his ways,

And leads me, for His mercy’s sake, In paths of truth and grace.

When I walk through the shades of death

His presence is my stay; One word of His supporting grace

Drives all my fears away.

His hand, in sight of all my foes, Doth still my table spread;

My cup with blessings overflows, His oil anoints my head.

The sure provisions of my God Attend me all my days;

O may Thy house be my abode, And all my work be praise.

There would I find a settled rest, While others go and come; No more a stranger, nor a guest,

But like a child at home.

This is a promise of God and may we claim it with all our heart so that it transforms our soul.

Easter 2, 2021

Sermon
March 22, 2020 Doubting Thomas John 20:19-31

We have seen in the last few weeks Jesus enter Jerusalem, be crucified on a cross and rise from the dead. We all know what Jesus did for us, but this week's readings are asking if we believe. Do we need to see as Thomas needed to see or is our faith strong enough that we can believe without seeing?

There are many signs . Jesus dies on the cross without his legs being broken which was usually done to speed up the person being crucified's death. Jesus is the Paschal Lamb. The Passover lambs' legs were not to be broken.

Then there is Nicodemus, a Pharisee and member of the Sanhedrin. Nicodemus visits Jesus at night because it is believed that he was afraid to meet Jesus during the day when he might be seen, but Nicodemus knew that Jesus was from God. No one could perform the miracles Jesus was doing if God was not with him. He recognized Jesus as the Messiah and spoke up for Jesus when the Sanhedrin met to decide how to get rid of Jesus. Of

course, he was overruled, but it changed Nicodemus. It made Nicodemus question why the Sanhedrin was attempting to get rid of Jesus.

After Jesus death we see Nicodemus helping Joseph of Arimathea anoint Jesus body with fine oils and spices and wrap him in linen cloths. Joseph was a rich man and Nikodemus was a member of the Sanhedrin. They buried Jesus as they would bury a king.

In John 20 we see Jesus appearing to the disciples who are in a locked room. Jesus shows them the wounds on his hands and feet. How did he appear in a locked room? Would the disciples have believed Jesus as the risen Messiah if they hadn't seen Him the first time he appeared?

Thomas doubted because he wasn't there and didn't see Jesus the first time he appeared, but why? He had seen the miracles Jesus performed . He had followed Jesus for the past three years along with the other disciples. He totally believed in Jesus and what Jesus had done, but why would he doubt what the others were telling him now? Thomas was a doubter, but his doubts had a purpose. He doubted because he wanted to know the truth. It is hard to explain, but "Thomas did not idolize

his doubts. In other words, he gladly believed when given reasons to do so. He expressed his doubts fully and had his doubts answered completely. He did not doubt that Jesus was the Messiah, and he didn't doubt the miracles he had seen. He was doubting how someone he had just buried could have come into a locked room. I think all of us would have doubted what others were telling us if that had been our experience. Doubting was only his way of responding. That is not how he lived his life. In John 11:16 Thomas says, "Let us also go, that we may die with him." He didn't hesitate to believe and follow Jesus.

The apostles and people of the time were so lucky to have seen Jesus. To have walked with him and they were able to make the choice to believe in him or not. The question is, how do we believe in him and have the faith to follow him like the apostles did? We have the Bible and the witnesses' writings of the times. The nuns used to tell us that the Bible was written by men but inspired by God.

We also have the Holy Spirit. Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Three in one. The Trinity. Jesus is the Holy Spirit. If we believe in the Father and the Son, then we cannot hesitate to believe in the Spirit. Jesus told the disciples

that they would be receiving someone that would help them after he was gone. 40 days after Easter we celebrate Pentecost. The descent of the Holy Spirit on the apostles and all who believed in him. Jesus is with us all the time if we have the faith to believe. John 3:16 says it all. " For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. Thomas may have been called a doubter, but he followed Jesus and believed in everything that Jesus did. We just need to be like Thomas to have eternal life.

Easter Sunday

Easter Day

Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 118:1-2,14-24 Acts 10:34-43
John 20:1-18

“Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen

We gather today on this glorious morning to celebrate the highest holy day in the Christian tradition. Many of us have walked the long and introspective journey of Lent, time spent in the wilderness of our souls and minds, time spent with others in this community to contemplate and experience the excitement of Palm Sunday followed by the agony, pain, sorrow, confusion, and somberness of Holy Week. At the outset of Lent on Ash Wednesday, I suggested that you would get what you wanted out of Lent and I pray that the season was for you one filled with new insights about yourselves and your relationship with God.

As your vicar and the one privileged to offer today’s sermon, I found myself spending a lot of time in the nuances, the theological weeds, if you will, of today’s Gospel reading from John. I mentioned this to our Bishop’s Warden, Mary, who offered some helpful tips from the Rev. Dr. Lisa Cressman, an amazingly gifted priest, theologian, and professor of preaching: simplicity....this was followed by a suggestion from a dear Catholic friend who offered his advice: Keep it simple....”He’s alive.” The suggestion to keep things simple is a great one but one that needs additional context in order for such a complex theological tenant of our faith, the resurrection of Jesus, to become “simple.”

I invite you to re-enter today’s Gospel story and put yourself in Mary’s place. In today’s reading, Mary arrives at Jesus’ tomb and finds that the stone has been rolled away from the entrance. Obviously sensing that something was wrong, she runs off to tell Simon Peter and John what has

happened. They all return, and the two men do some investigating, we’re told that John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, “saw and believed” and then the story says that the two “went back to their homes.” Thankfully, Mary sticks around, and what follows not only impacts Mary but stands to impact us all, as well.

“Woman, why are you weeping?” asks the two angels Mary finds inside the tomb. Somehow this encounter seems rather sedate. The Greek word for weeping is more accurately translated as lamenting or wailing. Remember, Mary, the disciples, and others who were following Jesus are in a total state of despair and anguish. What they had been anticipating as the rise of a new kingdom, one that would usher in a new beginning for the Jewish nation free from Roman oppression and occupation, had come crashing down with Jesus’ death. Not only was Jesus dead, but the movement was also quickly dissipating out of fear and lack of leadership. Mary was returning to the tomb to anoint the body, certainly not expecting a risen Christ. The movement is crushed and now her beloved master’s body is gone and the angels ask “Woman, why are you weeping?” This reminds me of when my mom asked me the same question after having my bike stolen from in front of the Lucky’s Supermarket when I was 9 years old...what do you mean, why am I crying? MY BIKE HAS BEEN STOLEN....good grief, mom!!!

The second time Mary hears these words are from the unrecognized person of Jesus that she presumes to be the gardener, “Woman, why are you weeping, and whom are you seeking?”

Aren't these words for us today as well? Why are you or I weeping? What is happening in our lives that break our hearts, that leaves us in doubt, confusion, anger, or pain? What hopes and dreams did we have for ourselves or our families that have been seemingly and irreparably broken? For some of us here today, it’s a medical challenge. For others, it’s the loss of a loved one or a broken relationship. Still others, it’s an ongoing battle with depression, anger, loneliness, or financial stresses. No matter our past or present, we’ve all experienced those moments when wailing and

weeping were the only ways we could express ourselves. The hope and joy that spring from Easter gives us a living Jesus that knows our pains and sorrows, our anxieties and failures. This risen Jesus brings new opportunities for healing and restoration. This risen Jesus wipes the tears from our eyes and renews our shattered expectations. This risen Jesus defeated the power of sin and death because he loves us, every single person here today, and by his grace, you won’t ever forget that.

I’m guessing each of us can relate to Mary’s circumstances and feelings. Jesus then asks a very profound question of Mary, “Who are you seeking?” At that moment, my guess is that she had no idea who she was seeking. The synoptic gospels tell us that she and other women brought spices to the tomb to anoint the body as part of the burial ritual; John, in his gospel, would have us surmise this activity. I doubt Mary went to the tomb that early Sunday morning seeking a risen Jesus; I think she went to pay respect and do what was needed as part of the burial ritual. What about us? Who are you seeking? Who am I seeking? Sometimes I think we think we’re seeking Jesus and yet we miss him all the time because we’re really not “looking.” Sometimes we’re so blinded by our circumstances that we miss the traces and hints all around us that reveal him. The psalmist reminds us that “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the works of his hands.” The Savior we seek is ever-present if we will but “look.”

Did you notice that while Mary was looking for Jesus, it was Jesus who found Mary? She was certainly frazzled with all that was happening: an empty tomb, two angels, and now an interaction with a gardener she didn’t recognize as Jesus. What was the trigger wherein she knew she had been found? John tells us it happens with a single word: “Mary.” He calls her by her name. You know what it’s like when you hear your name called by your spouse, your children, or others with whom you are close. Even when someone acknowledges us in the grocery store using our name, it’s just different than when we get the obligatory “hey there,” right?

When was the last time you heard Jesus call you by name? Were you sitting on a deck overlooking Lake Pend Oreille? How about when you’re enjoying a cup of coffee or a glass of wine with a close friend? What about when you’ve stood at the top of Schweitzer Mountain? For me, it’s when I hear the great organ at St John’s or the choristers offering Evensong at the National Cathedral. It’s in those moments that God I suspect we find the risen Jesus so real and present.

My friends, the reality and joy of Easter is that this risen Jesus knows us through and through. He knows intimately what makes each one of us tick: our sorrows, our joys, our concerns, our hopes, our dreams, our failures, our secrets, and our faithfulness. He knows our doubts and fears. He knows why we weep and wail and he offers to dry our tears and calm our minds. He knows each one of us by name and we are uniquely loved and are precious in his sight.

The songwriter Alfred Henry Ackley sums it up this way:

Rejoice, rejoice O Christian lift up your voice and sing Eternal Hallelujahs to Jesus Christ, the King
The hope of all who seek him, the help of all who find No other is so loving so good and kind

He lives, he lives, Christ Jesus lives today
He walks with me and talks with me along life’s narrow way He lives, he lives, salvation to impart
You ask me how I know he lives, he lives within my heart.

Alleluia! Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!

Palm Sunday, 2021

Sunday of the Passion: Palm Sunday The Liturgy of the Palms

Mark 11:1-11

The Liturgy of the Word

Isaiah 50:4-9 Psalm 31:9-16 Philippians 2:5-11 Mark 15:1-39

After a few minutes of small-talk, I finally blurted out the question to my colleagues that has been on my mind since the middle of Lent: “How does one preach this particular Sunday? What does one emphasize on this particular Sunday? Which is it, Passion Sunday or Palm Sunday?

There is such depth of emotions, richness in imagery, transparent images reflecting conflicting ideas of power, feelings of jealousy, pathos, joy, disappointment, confusion, betrayal; of lament, humility, obedience, grief, and ending with the shocking testimony of a Roman centurion that would take a month of sermons or weeks of Bible study to scratch the surface of what is taking place in today’s lectionary readings. On one hand, today’s story begins in the eleventh chapter of Mark’s Gospel with Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem with shouts of “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” that finds a different voice in that of a mob with screams of “Crucify him” motivated by political convenience, treachery, and ambivalence.

The prophet Isaiah writes of the lament of the servant who announces his mission and reports on the suffering that it brings. His message of liberation is met with resistance but he is nonetheless confident that with God’s help, he will endure.

In the appointed section of Psalm 31, the psalmist provides for us the words and feelings of lament and anguish in this petition to God in the

midst of an unrelenting crisis. It’s clear that the psalmist is writing from a place of depression, sickness, and persecution though based on an underlying faith and trust in God. The image of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, praying to his Father that his appointed time might pass, provides yet another layer of emotional poignancy to the readings for this Sunday.

Today’s portion of Paul’s letter to the Philippians reflects a rather short but succinct summary of who Jesus is and what his mission was all about; “who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited but emptied himself taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death- even death on a cross.”

So which is it, Passion Sunday or Palm Sunday? As we begin our walk with Jesus on this day that will take us from the festivities associated with the celebration of Passover to the house of Simon the leper where we hear of a woman who anoints Jesus with an expensive jar of ointment, where we read of Judas’ arrangement with the Jewish authorities to betray Jesus, where we find Jesus and his disciples gathering in the upper room for the Passover meal, where the disciples question who among them is to betray their master, where Jesus institutes the Lord’s Supper, where Jesus tells his closest friends that they will all desert him at the moment of his destiny with death, where his most trusted disciples can’t stay awake as Jesus prays in deep distress and agony, where Jesus is arrested, taken before the Jewish and Roman authorities, where he’s railroaded by the aforementioned religious and governmental authorities, where he’s sentenced to death but beforehand is stripped, scourged nearly to death, spit on, mocked, nailed to a cross, mourned by his family and many other women, and finally treated with respect and buried in a tomb belonging to Joseph of Arimathea. So which is it for you: Palm Sunday or Passion Sunday? What did you hear today in these readings? What images came to mind? To whom do you identify: the centurion, the mourners, the

disciples? This story will continue to play out this coming week and I’m convinced that our willingness to live with and explore our feelings, our questions, and our reactions to what we find will have a dramatic impact on how we will experience Easter, the celebration of God’s victory over sin and death. So I invite you to sit with this unfolding drama that is ultimately revealed to be the greatest love story in the history of humankind. To go directly from “Hosanna” to “Alleluia” with no time for grieving or wondering will leave you wanting.

On a slightly less ominous note, during my weekly study session with fellow clergy, one of my colleagues walked us through this little nugget of insight involving a four-legged character from Mark’s Gospel we read out in the portico. In this story, Jesus sends two of his disciples out on an errand to find a colt upon which Jesus would enter Jerusalem. This is similar to the story in the longer Passion narrative where Jesus sends two disciples to go and prepare the place for him and the rest of the disciples to share in the Passover meal. The locating and preparing of a donkey, and the preparation of a meal, two rather routine requests though somewhat shrouded in mystery for members of Jesus’ inner circle. These simple tasks asked by Jesus of his dearest friends reminded me of another fellow from the first chapter of Mark’s Gospel, a fellow named John the Baptist. This camel-wearing, locust-eating man from the wilderness also had a task, to embody the prophet Isaiah’s writing as the voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” Both John the Baptist and the aforementioned two unnamed disciples were doing the work of “preparing the way,” a response to a call of discipleship that plays out today in everyday places and circumstances, including here at Holy Spirit.

I wonder if you’ve ever thought of the work we do here as “preparing the way” for Jesus? I know I hadn’t really considered it in that light during my life as a Christian. But isn’t that what we do in our everyday, routine, maybe even mundane activities as disciples of Christ? I’ve only been with you 90 days, but I can think of numerous instances where one or more of you “prepared the way” with your acts of kindness and compassion: praying

for those facing difficult circumstances, rejoicing with those who are celebrating life’s milestones, committing time and a listening ear to inmates in our local jail, providing transportation to and from medical appointments, ensuring that our worship space is appropriately prepared for our use, writing cards to those who could use a word of encouragement, supporting with both goods and financial resources the work of Bonner Homeless Transitions and the local food bank, and sharing your love and goodwill with each other every Sunday. I was also thinking about all the work that went into buying and renovating this holy space some 10+ years ago. I think of the time, the skill, and love of place of those of you who built the two wooden crosses, constructed signs, hung drywall, painted, installed lights, added bathrooms, and built a magnificent kitchen, all ways in which the life of this community continues to “prepare the way” as a beacon of Christian living and for those called to a life in Christ in the Episcopal tradition. I look forward to our efforts in “preparing the way” as we provide the funding for underprivileged kids to attend Camp Cross this summer. I think of the folks who established St. Agnus and “prepared the way” for the mission of God in Sandpoint decades ago.

My friends, most of us are not called to do what the world would consider “great things.” It is in our daily lives of prayer, service, acts of charity and compassion, words of encouragement and hope, that “prepares the way” for the Holy Spirit to work in the lives of the lonely, the lost, the hopeless, and to those seeking meaning in their lives. Our actions as followers of Christ “prepare the way” for the ongoing work of the Spirit in our own lives. As you ponder what lessons lay in store for you this week, I pray that you will be encouraged and find hope in what you experience and that you might see yourselves as partners with John and the disciples as “preparers of the way.”

Lent 5, 2021

The Fifth Sunday in Lent

Jeremiah 31:31-34 Psalm 51:1-13 Hebrews 5:5-10 John 12:20-33

“Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and it dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen

One of the great joys of being with the folks who gather each Tuesday morning for Bible study is that we have the opportunity to ponder, offer insight, ask questions, and wrestle with what we’re hearing and experiencing as we explore the lectionary readings for the upcoming week. For me, these conversations have been a great source of information and fertile ground for relationship building as I often use ideas and thoughts from the group in preparing my weekly sermons while we foster an environment where questions are encouraged and our faith is strengthened. This time of study and conversation is open to everyone and I highly encourage you to add your voice to the dialogue as we explore and glean from God’s word.

Today’s reading from John’s Gospel offers an example of scripture we wrestled with; how does a seed or grain of wheat “die?” Jesus often used images from everyday life in his teaching and the use of an example from agriculture, today’s being of a grain of wheat, is a very common analogy. My recollection is that we didn’t come up with a “good” explanation though we certainly grasped its overall meaning in relationship to Jesus’ death and resurrection. But this idea of “a seed dying?” stuck with me the rest of the week.

Truth be told, I hadn’t really ever thought much about the process of how seeds turn into plants. I do remember vividly a kindergarten project of planting a seed in a dixie cup, putting the cup on the windowsill to ensure it

received the proper amount of sunlight, and carefully watering it every other day while I and my classmates wanted for the results of our experiment. Whalaa!!...in about a week a little green shoot popped through the soil and my humble dixie cup was a big hit at home when I presented it as a gift to my mother. I’m sure it ranked right up with the plaster-of-paris spoon necklace I made and gave her as a Christmas present. Gardening and creative crafting are truly not my gifts.

With respect to the question “how does a seed die?” and after reading a few brief articles and blogs regarding the life and germination process of seeds, I did learn that essentially the seed dies to itself. As one blogger put it, “the seed ceases to be a seed in order that the plant would live, it can no longer find its identity in that of its old self, a seed. And in this way, it has died, it has ceased to exist as its original self.” This reality is more than botanical truth; it is theologically true, as well.

Before I get to some theological thoughts, however, I offer you another analogy, that of a lightbulb. I wish I could remember where or when I first heard this but it goes something like this: As long as the bulb stays in its original package or in a drawer, it remains a perfectly good lightbulb, but it doesn’t produce any light, right? It’s not functioning as intended. However, once it is turned on, it gives light. Interestingly though, it also begins the process of dying as it is being used for its original purpose. It slowly burns itself out and is subsequently tossed out.

In somewhat similar fashion, Jesus uses the analogy of the grain of wheat. If not planted, the grain remains just that, a grain of wheat, much like the lightbulb in its packaging or when left in a drawer. But unlike the lightbulb that ultimately dies and is thrown out after its usefulness has been spent, the grain of wheat that is planted and nurtured, while dying to its original form, nonetheless creates new life in the way of new stalks of wheat.

Today we hear of a group of “Greeks” (aka Gentiles) who, upon finding Philip, make the statement “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” This seems like a reasonable request to me. The crowds have been following Jesus on both

land and sea, have heard the miraculous stories of his healing powers, his casting out of demons, his feeding of thousands, and his raising of Lazarus, the event that is really starting to make serious waves with the Jewish religious leaders. Could this be the long-awaited Messiah? Everyone is in a frenzy. Sir, they tell Philip, we wish to see Jesus. I wonder, do you think they were aware of what they were seeking, especially given Jesus’ response that dealt with grains of wheat, the bearing of fruit, the losing of one’s life, and the call to a new way of living in following Jesus as a willing servant.

I’m going to hazard to guess that this group of Gentile God-fearers wanted more than just to see what Jesus looked like, more than just wanting to hang out with folks who were curious as to what was going on and who was caught up in all the excitement. I’m guessing they wanted to “know” him, to learn from him, to find out what Jesus and his teachings were all about. I’m also guessing that they had no idea what this level of engagement and potential discipleship would entail.

I’m confident that in our own ways, we too want to “see Jesus.” To truly “see” Jesus is more than an intellectual exercise in believing things about Jesus or the various accounts of what the evangelists wrote of what he said and did. Don’t get me wrong, we need to believe in the truths that underlie these accounts because they reveal who Jesus is and what his radical call of discipleship looks like, and the demands it places on his followers. To follow Christ is a commitment to engaging a new way of thinking and being, an undertaking that requires that we learn to die so that we might truly learn what it means to live.

Like the grain of wheat that dies to itself that results in new stalks of wheat, Jesus says that we too must die in order to produce the fruit of faith, obedience, patience, forgiveness, generosity, and self-sacrificial love. Jesus’ call to this radical way of living forces each of us to look at those behaviors, ideas, attitudes, and prejudices that bind us to our old selves. We know too well what many of them are: anger, fear, guilt, need for power or control, living with our past failures, our obsessions, and what we say

and do that damage our own minds as well as our relationships with others. All these behaviors speak of the biggest challenge in all of our lives, our thinking that we live by being self-sufficient. As we’ve talked about previously, this goes to the reality that God offers to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves. Our self-sufficiency is what we need to let die so that we can receive the life that God offers.

My friends, this brings us to the proverbial $64 dollar question: “Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we hold onto those things that keep us from the life that God wants for us?” The only answer I can come up with is that “it is hard.” We’re so used to surviving and experiencing enough sufficiency through our own way of doing things. For many of us, our lives seem quite comfortable without having to be fully invested with Jesus. Trust me, I’m just as guilty as the next person. But this isn’t what God wants for or from us. If we truly want to “see Jesus” we need to die to the old self and take on a life reliant on the faithfulness and goodness of God. By dying to our old self, we become transformed into a new creation, a new life nurtured by the Holy Spirit that produces amazing fruit of peace, joy, patience, generosity, and love. As our Lenten journey comes to an end and we prepare to walk with Jesus through the trials of Holy Week, by God’s grace may lay down our own self-sufficiency so that we might pick up our cross to not only follow Jesus but that will enable us to “see” him.

Lent 4, 2021

Sermon Fourth Sunday in Lent 3/14/21 RCL B

Numbers 21:4-9, Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22, Ephesians 2:1-10, John 3:14-21

Mary McPherson

For Lent this year, I have been engaging in a practice which was offered to us by the Sandpoint United Methodist Church.  Every morning, I light a candle, take 3 deep breaths, read a Psalm, and listen for God’s guidance. Then I journal the prayers that God inspires me to pray.  It is a communal exercise.  Various people from different churches in Sandpoint each signed up for a block of time.  Mine is at 8 am and I can’t say I am always on schedule, but I try to be close.   We are invited to pray for our own church as well as all the churches in Sandpoint, the state, nation, and world as God inspires us. 

This exercise has put me in touch with the realization that we are truly part of a communion of saints.  By that I mean we are a community of Holy People, spiritually connected.  It has reminded me of how our Christian faith is truly communal in nature.

As a result, during the service last week, I was drawn to all the prayers in the liturgy that are corporate or group prayers.  I invite you to take note today of all the occurrences of WE and OUR that we say.  (Our father, not My father who art in heaven....)

Sometimes I get too preoccupied with my relationship with God as an individual.  Maybe you do too.  Today’s example from Numbers is one illustration of how a covenant love was granted to Israel as a whole, not to just one individual. If we focus on our individual salvation, we can find ourselves adrift and alone, in a huge ocean of others who are also trying to save themselves – neither assisting nor relying on one another or the whole body of Christ.  It is good to be reminded of the membership we belong to.

As I prepared for the sermon, I was literally obsessed for days with how a serpent on a stick has any similarity to Christ.  Christ himself draws a connection between the serpent of bronze and his crucifixion.  What is up with that?

Over and over again in the stories of the OT, we see a recurring pattern with the Israelites.  Things are good for a period, then they struggle over some hardship.  They get ornery and rebellious.  They cry out to the Lord.  The Lord rescues them, and they return to God.  Time and again, they go from songs of triumph to grumbling in just a few verses!  They get it, they lose it, they get it, they lose it and so on.  They seem to have a great deal of trouble remembering – a human trait we all share – to whom they belong!  Which is why we all come to church weekly.  To be reminded …  of who it is we belong to!

Just before this passage in Numbers takes place, Moses had asked the King of Edom, very politely and diplomatically, if they could take a shortcut through Edom, and the King responds firmly, “No”.  I’m sure this was a setback that set the people off.  “We don’t want to endure this camping and nasty food any longer!”  If you recall, this “nasty food” was the food God had provided for them when they complained about being hungry.  The Manna?  The Bread of Heaven? Ouch.  Not showing much appreciation for God’s provision! 

So, God sends them snakes.  The people admit they were wrong, repent, and God gives Moses a directive to create a bronze serpent, put it on a rod.  Looking up at it was sufficient to cure anyone bitten by a snake. That’s such a bizarre idea.    

The net of my long pondering of the likeness between the serpent and the crucifixion is this:

Quoting John, “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

“God did not send the serpents to the Israelites to kill them, but in order that the Israelites might be saved through them.”

I repeat.

“God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

“God did not send the serpents to the Israelites to kill them, but in order that the Israelites might be saved through them.”

God uses the serpents to regain the Israelites attention. 

This story demonstrates how God does whatever it takes to maintain a relationship with humankind. He will use fiery serpents, a pandemic, cancer, addiction, financial devastation, natural disasters, you name it.  God will use EVERY opportunity to redirect us back to Him. 

Notice how the Israelites called out to God for deliverance as a group. 

The whole assembly of Israelites in the desert was all one, all of them loved corporately and individually by God, just as we are.  In this worldview, we are saved by being “part of the body”.  Interrelationship is the lifeblood of our faith.

I’ve been touched this week, thinking about the Communion of Saints that surrounds us, past, present and future.  We are part of them.  We leapfrog from their growth to reach higher levels.  Our descendants will have a leg up given to them from us.  The Israelites in the desert knew God was the source of their very survival.  They turned to him in their hour of despair.  We, too, are God’s people, and we are members of a communion of saints.

We are not just individuals who follow God and come together for church on Sundays, we are a community of believers.  We are members.  We belong to God and to each other. 

I remember when I worked for Hewlett Packard.  I had just changed jobs moving to Marketing from the R & D lab.  I took a business trip to Dallas, and John decided to rendezvous with me on my way back for a weekend in New Mexico.  He had worked at Los Alamos Labs one summer and wanted to show it to me.  It turned out unbeknown to us, it was the weekend of the annual hot air balloon festival.  One of my Marketing co-workers recommended I call the HP sales office in Albuquerque.  I reluctantly did, and what an amazing experience.  They were having a barbeque to watch the hot air balloons from the HP parking lot.  We knew no one going in.  We were welcomed like we were long lost friends by the people who worked there.  All because I was an HP employee.  That is an example of what being in a community is. 

We are in this life together.  We are in community within Holy Spirit Church, within Sandpoint, within Idaho, within the nation, within the world.  God has called us to be a community of compassionate love, a holy people touched with the fire of the Spirit, summoned to go forth as companions bringing divine compassion into everyday life for all those we encounter.  I am well aware that all of you here do this already.  Let this simply serve as just a reminder to keep doing what you are doing.  Working together empowers us to do and be what we can’t do by ourselves. 

We are individuals, but we are in this together. 

Let us pray.

Holy Father, please bless Holy Spirit Church and all the churches of Sandpoint.  Bless this world in which we live.  Help us to make it a more just and compassionate place.  Like your Israelites in the desert, we are broken people.  Many people are suffering.  Remind us to continually look to you, lifted up on the cross, as the way to everlasting life and peace of mind.  In Jesus holy name we pray, Amen.