Sunday, June 26, 2011

Offering Hospitality to God

St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
June 26, 2011

Year A, Proper 8: The Second Sunday after Pentecost
Genesis 22:1-14
Psalm 13
Romans 6:12-23
Matthew 10:40-42

Offering Hospitality to God


If you were in church last week you know that we heard a very long passage right from the start of the Book of Genesis. It was the creation story – or, actually, the first creation story - found in the first book of the Bible.

For the authors of Genesis, creation reached its crescendo when God created human beings – made in God’s image and likeness, and declared by God to be very good.

We didn’t hear what happened next, but we know the story. In the beginning, God and human beings were this close. And then because of our sin and selfishness and disobedience the close relationship between God and humanity got broken.

Human beings hid in shame from God – God who comes looking for us, asking, “Where are you?”

In some ways we’ve never stopped hiding. But, the best news of all time is that God never stops looking for us - God never stops reaching out to us - and God never stops wanting to be in relationship with us.

The entire sweep of the Scriptures is a restoration story. It’s the story of God reaching out to us – wanting to restore the very good bond between us – the bond that had been broken so long ago.

Jesus is at the center of that restoration story, of course.

But, others have played their part. One of the towering figures of God’s restoration story is Abraham.

In our first lesson today we heard one of the best-known and most disturbing Bible stories: the sacrifice – or rather, the almost sacrifice – of Isaac.

It’s a troubling story because taken out of context it makes God seem sadistic – testing Abraham by challenging him to offer his beloved son Isaac as a burnt offering. In telling the story, the authors of Genesis brilliantly build excruciating tension - until finally we’re told, “Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to kill his son” and was stopped only by a last second intervention from an angel of the Lord.

Now, let’s be honest - if this story were all we knew about God I doubt any of us would be here today.

But, of course, Abraham already knew a lot about God before he received this bewildering request – and thanks in large part to Jesus, you and I know a lot more about God than what we heard in this story.

So, what is this odd and disturbing story all about? Where’s the Good News in this tale of testing, trust and sacrifice?

To answer these questions we have to look at the life of Abraham as a whole. In the Book of Genesis, Abraham is presented as a model of faith and as a friend of God. One biblical scholar describes Abraham as living “a life that stands open to God’s direction.”

And God’s close relationship with Abraham is a glimpse of the kind of relationship God wants to have with all of us.

Abraham is a model for us because even under difficult and bewildering circumstances, Abraham usually remains open to God - Abraham usually welcomes God into his life - Abraham is usually hospitable to God.

For us, Abraham’s story began at age 75 when God told him to leave his home and with his wife and his nephew travel into the unknown new land of Canaan.

Abraham could have said no - I’m old, I’m tired, I don’t want to leave home. But, instead Abraham welcomed God into his life – Abraham was hospitable to a sometimes bewildering and challenging God.

Abraham is a great role model for us in part because like us he’s imperfect. There’s the story of Abraham and Sarah in Egypt when he passes off his wife as his sister in an effort to save his life – not exactly his best moment! For a time she became one of the Pharoah’s wives until God blows their cover and Abraham and Sarah are expelled from Egypt. To make matters worse, we’re told Abraham pulled the same stunt a second time in a place called Gerar where the king took Sarah until God told him the truth in a dream.

Like us, Abraham sometimes gave into fear and stumbled, damaging his relationship with God and the people closest to him.

Mostly, though, Abraham lived a life open to God’s direction – he had come to know that God cared for him and that God kept God’s promises.

At the same time, Abraham lived in a time and place when and where it was not unheard of in times of great distress for people to sacrifice their children to appease the gods. And the greatest sacrifice of all would be to give up an only son.

So God’s request to sacrifice Isaac would have been very difficult, but not unprecedented.

Let’s look at today’s passage more closely.

First we’re told, “God tested Abraham.”

For me, this is the hardest part of this passage. I could be wrong and you don’t have to agree with me, but I don’t think God tests us like this. After all, God already knows us better than we know ourselves. So, if this is a test it may be not so much a test for Abraham but rather a test for God – a way for God to make a little more progress restoring the broken relationship with humanity.

As this story unfolds we learn more about God than we do about Abraham.

We already know that Abraham is a friend of God.

We already know that Abraham was willing to give up his past – he did just that when God called him to leave home. Now, God was asking Abraham to give up his future by sacrificing his son. Although it’s an excruciatingly difficult request, we can be pretty sure how Abraham would respond to the God he had welcomed into his life – the God he come to know so well and trust so much.

In fact, Abraham doesn’t seem to think he’s being tested. He hears God’s call and he doesn’t hide in fear. Instead Abraham answers God, “Here I am.”

He could be faking it, but throughout the story it seems like Abraham has at least some confidence that God isn’t really going to make him go through with this.

Abraham tells the other young men, “Stay here with the donkey; the boy and I will go over there; we will worship, and then we will come back to you.”

Abraham tells a confused Isaac, “God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.”

But, if God does make him go through with this, Abraham seems to be confident that God must plan to bring out some good that he can’t foresee.

At the last moment Isaac is spared and given the chance to play his own role in the restoration of the broken relationship between God and humanity.

In this test we learn that God doesn’t want us to sacrifice our children. And although a ram is sacrificed in the story, the truth is God doesn’t need or want us to sacrifice animals either.

Instead, because God loves us what God wants – what God has wanted all along – is for us to be like Abraham – to let God into our lives, to offer hospitality to God - to live a life that stands open to God.

What would offering hospitality to God look like for us today? What would standing open to God look like for us today?

Although you never know, it’s unlikely that God will speak to us quite as directly as God did to Abraham thousands of years ago. But, like Abraham we need to be prepared to let go of our past and be ready to radically change our future in service to God.

Most of the time, though, living a life that stands open to God is much simpler, less dramatic but no less challenging, than what Abraham faced.

In today’s gospel lesson, we heard Jesus describing what the church – the Christian community – should look like. Jesus said to his disciples,

“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.”

It’s when we practice hospitality to everyone – to the rich and poor, people of every race and color, gay and straight, the smelly and the well-scrubbed, people we really like and people who drive us up the wall – it’s when we practice hospitality to everyone that we offer hospitality to God.

When, like God’s friend Abraham, we offer hospitality to God, then through us God continues repairing the bond that was broken long ago.

When, like God’s friend Abraham, we offer hospitality to God, then through us, God continues the great restoration story.

Amen.

Monday, June 13, 2011

A Charismatic Church

St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
June 12, 2011

Year A: The Day of Pentecost
Acts 2:1-21
Psalm 104: 25-35, 37
1 Corinthians 12:3b-13
John 20:19-23

A Charismatic Church


A couple of Sundays ago I was standing outside before the start of the 8:00 service (at St. Michael’s).

A woman I hadn’t seen before pulled up, parked her car and made her way towards the church. I greeted her and we exchanged some pleasantries. She took a step closer to the church and then she stopped, looked at me with what seemed like embarrassment and said,

“Can I ask you a question?”

I said, “Sure.”

And then she said, “Is this still a charismatic church?”

As you may know, for Christians the word “charismatic” refers to the gifts of grace we receive from the Holy Spirit.

But, “charismatic” is also shorthand for a certain type of very emotional worship.

And, sure enough, that’s what she meant by “charismatic.” It turns out that she had last been at St. Michael’s about fifteen years ago when the presence and power of the Holy Spirit was celebrated in very vivid ways – ways more typical of a Pentecostal church, but certainly not unheard of in Episcopal churches.

When she asked me her question, I wasn’t sure if she was hoping the answer was yes or no.

So, I began by making a stupid joke about how I like to think of myself as having charisma, but, then said, no, nowadays St. Michael’s is pretty much a straightforward, middle of the road Episcopal church.

Fortunately, she was relieved by my answer and seemed to appreciate our quiet and dignified traditional language service.

I’ve told that story to a few people and each time it’s gotten a chuckle.

But, the more I’ve thought about it – and especially today on the great feast of Pentecost - I really regret how I answered her question.

The truth is that we are a charismatic church whenever we are open to the power of the Holy Spirit.

Jesus promised to send the Holy Spirit to guide and strengthen all of his followers – and that includes us.

Jesus kept his promise back in the First Century and Jesus keeps his promise today.

Although we may not speak in tongues or roll around on the floor, this church – and every Christian community that strives to be faithful to Jesus Christ – is filled with the Holy Spirit.

From the Episcopalians to the Pentecostals, every church that is open to the power of the Holy Spirit and strives to love God and neighbor is a charismatic church.

In today’s lessons we heard two different accounts of how the first disciples received the Holy Spirit.

Although John’s and Luke’s accounts of have different details, for both the essence of Pentecost is the same.

Jesus gives them – gives us – the Holy Spirit to be the charismatic church continuing Jesus’ work on earth.

In the passage from the Gospel of John that I just read Pentecost takes place on the evening of Easter. The resurrected Jesus appears to his disciples who were still afraid of the religious authorities who had helped get Jesus killed.

Notice that John doesn’t say that this appearance is limited to the apostles. John doesn’t specify how many were hiding in the locked room. The Holy Spirit is a gift for all of Jesus’ followers – not just for an elite.

And just as God had breathed life at the start of creation, so now Jesus breathes on his disciples – giving them the Holy Spirit and making them – making us – a new creation.

The charismatic church is born to continue the work of Jesus on earth.

Meanwhile, in our first lesson we heard the familiar story in the Acts of the Apostles, where Luke the Evangelist gives us a different – more public - take on Pentecost.

The details are different but the essence of the Pentecost stories is the same.

Jesus gives them – gives us – the Holy Spirit to continue Jesus’ work on earth.

In Luke’s version it’s now fifty days since Easter, but once again the disciples were gathered in “one place” in Jerusalem when suddenly they received the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Luke tells us, “All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.”

The charismatic church is born to continue the work of Jesus on earth.

I have no idea which of the two Pentecost stories is more historically accurate. All I know is that Pentecost happened because Pentecost happens all the time.

Pentecost happens when Christians gather together and allow the Holy Spirit to work through them – sometimes that may mean speaking foreign or even unknown languages and sometimes that may mean worshipping from a carefully crafted prayer book that links us to Christians past, present and future.

Pentecost happens when we allow the Holy Spirit to work through us, continuing the work of Jesus by reaching out in loving service to the nobodies, the outcasts, the disposable and despised people of our time.

Pentecost happens when we allow the Holy Spirit to work through us, offering forgiveness to those who wrong us.

Pentecost happens when we allow the Holy Spirit to work through us, sharing God’s love with the multitudes of people here in our own community and around the world burdened by fear and despair.

Pentecost happens all the time because the Holy Spirit is poured out on us all the time, beginning in the water of Baptism where God makes an indissoluble – an unbreakable bond – with all of us.

In Baptism, God promises that the Holy Spirit will be with us forever – in good times and not so good – when we are most faithful and when we have the deepest doubts.

In Baptism, God promises that the Holy Spirit will be with us forever – when we really do continue the work of Jesus and when we do shameful things that we hope no one ever finds out about.

In Baptism, God promises that Pentecost will happen all the time.

In Baptism, God promises that every church where people strive to be faithful to Jesus Christ will be a charismatic church - continuing the work of Jesus on earth.

Amen.

Sunday, June 05, 2011

The Body of Christ

St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
June 5, 2011

Year A: The Seventh Sunday of Easter
Acts 1:6-14
Psalm 68:1-10, 33-36
1 Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11
John 17:1-11

The Body of Christ


Each year the Church invites us to celebrate and reflect on the story of Jesus’ Ascension. But, we can’t really talk about the Ascension without talking about Easter and without looking ahead a little bit to the great feast we’ll celebrate next week, Pentecost.

First of all, by passing through death into life, Jesus has been transformed in powerful and mysterious ways.

For example, Luke tells us that the disciples on the road to Emmaus didn’t recognize the resurrected Jesus until the breaking of the bread – followed immediately by Jesus vanishing from their sight.

But, Luke, along with Matthew and John, insists that although different and transformed, the resurrected Jesus was still the same Jesus that the disciples had known in life.

The evangelists insist the tomb was empty because Jesus had risen in the same body that had previously contained his spirit, the same body that had blessed the bread and the wine just a few days before, the same body that had been nailed to a piece of wood.

After the Emmaus story, Luke tells us that the resurrected Jesus appeared to the frightened disciples in Jerusalem saying, “Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.”

And then to underline the point, Luke tells us that the resurrected Jesus asks his disciples if they have anything to eat. Luke writes, “They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate it in their presence.”

Now, obviously, it would have been much easier and much more plausible for the first Christians to claim that beginning on Easter they began to experience the “spirit of Jesus” – that although he had died horribly on the cross, Jesus was still very much alive in their hearts.

Most people, I think, could and would buy that kind of claim.

But, Christians claimed and proclaimed something much more amazing – and much more difficult for people then and now to believe – Jesus had risen in the flesh and had appeared to his disciples.

In Luke’s sequel, the Acts of the Apostles, he tells us that the appearances of the resurrected Jesus continued for forty days – a very biblical number.

The appearances of the risen Jesus continued until, as we heard in today’s first lesson, Jesus was lifted up and vanished from sight.

Luke adds the very poignant touch of the disciples gazing up to heaven – with, I would imagine, with their mouths hanging open.

Then the two men in white robes tell the disciples to quit looking for Jesus up in the sky, adding, “This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

Now, if you’re looking for an explanation of how exactly all of this happened, I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong preacher. And, anyway, I’d be suspicious of anyone who claimed to understand or explain the Resurrection and the Ascension.

But, the point is that at the Ascension Jesus’ body has vanished from our sight so we could receive the Holy Spirit.

Jesus’ body has vanished from our sight so we can see who we really are.

Jesus’ body has vanished from our sight so we can be who we really are.

Jesus’ body has vanished so we can be the Body of Christ in the world.

St. Paul may have been the first to think in these terms – to recognize that the Church is the Body of Christ in the world. In his first letter to the Corinthians Paul wrote,
“Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.”

But, for my money, the best expression of the awesome gift, responsibility and challenge of being the Body of Christ in the world comes from the 16th Century Spanish mystic, Teresa of Avila. She wrote,

Christ has no body now but yours
No hands, no feet on earth but yours
Yours are the eyes through which He looks
compassion on this world
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

The wounded and resurrected body of Jesus has vanished from our sight.

And so that means, through the power of the Holy Spirit, we are the Body of Christ in the world.

That’s one of the reasons we come here - to be reminded that we are the Body of Christ in the world.

Every time we see the baptismal font – or even better every time we witness and celebrate a baptism – we are reminded that in the water of baptism we become part of the Body of Christ.

The most powerful reminder that we are the Body of Christ in the world comes every time we gather at the table and take the bread of life and the cup of salvation into our bodies – each receiving the same portion, each becoming more deeply woven into the Body of Christ in the world.

What happens here, though, is meant to strengthen us for the work of being the Body of Christ out there in a suffering and broken world.

As St. Paul recognized so clearly, each of us has our own unique part to play as a member of the Body of Christ in the world.

On Friday at our (St. Michael’s) potluck supper I was so moved when Susan talked about seeing her work combating pests that threaten crops as her vocation – particularly her goal of finding solutions affordable by poor farmers around the Caribbean, not just by a handful of wealthy international conglomerates.

Whether we’re protecting our food supply or feeding the poor downtown or donating money or simply praying for people who have no one to pray for them, we each have our own unique part to play in the Body of Christ.

But, Teresa of Avila gives us the most important general description of what it means for each of us to be members of the Body of Christ in the world.

She tells us that ours “are the eyes through which Christ looks compassion on this world.”

Ours “are the eyes through which Christ looks compassion on this world.”

“Looks compassion.” That’s a mysterious and beautiful expression, isn’t it?

During his earthly lifetime, Jesus didn’t solve every problem, didn’t fix everything and everyone that was broken.

But, Jesus “looked compassion” through love - by loving especially the outcasts, the nobodies, the hopeless, the disposable people of the First Century – the lepers, the women, the tax collectors, the children.

Instead of looking up to the sky for Jesus, we are to “look compassion” on the outcasts, the nobodies, the hopeless and disposable people of our time and place.

Instead of looking up to the sky for Jesus, we are called to be the Body of Christ right here and now in the world.

At the Ascension, Jesus’ body has vanished from our sight so we could receive the Holy Spirit.

Jesus’ body has vanished from our sight so we can see who we really are.

Jesus’ body has vanished from our sight so we can be who we really are.

Jesus’ body has vanished from our sight so we can be the Body of Christ in the world.

Amen.