Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
August 24, 2008: The Baptism of Matthew Patrick Maurer
Year A: The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 16)
Exodus 1:8-2:10
Psalm 124
Matthew 16:13-20
Peter Gets the Job
I know some of you have had the experience of hiring people. As unpleasant as it is to interview for a job, I think it’s even more difficult to be on the other side – deciding which candidate is best for the job. No matter how carefully you interview people, you can still make the wrong choice. You can still end up getting burned.
I experienced that a little when I was the History Department chairperson at St. Peter’s Prep. I would interview people for positions in the department and often the candidates would dazzle me in the interview. They said – and seemed like – they were passionate about teaching, creative in the classroom, committed to young people. And sometimes that turned out to be real. But in other cases later I’d find myself sitting in their boring classes, wondering what happened to that passionate, creative person? It’s hard to know for sure if we are hiring the right person. It’s hard to know if the right person is getting the job.
But, in the case of the disciples, for better or for worse, Jesus knew exactly what he was getting. Sometimes I love how so often the disciples provide a kind of unintentional comic relief in the New Testament. The disciples usually don’t understand what’s going on; they ask stupid questions; and often they drive Jesus to exasperation.
In Mathew’s gospel, just before the passage we just heard, there’s a great example of the disciples’ unintentional comedy routine.
Jesus is still in the middle of his dispute with the Jewish religious leaders that we talked about last week when he says to the disciples in all seriousness: “Watch out and beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and the Sadducees.” I imagine the disciples blinking and staring blankly at Jesus. Or maybe they stand there and their eyes shift nervously side to side. Matthew then writes about the disciples, “They said to one another ‘It is because we have brought no bread.’
Jesus hears this and lets them have it. I imagine him slapping his forehead or covering his face with his hands. “You of little faith, why are you talking about having no bread? Do you still not perceive? Do you not remember the five loaves for the five thousand and how many baskets you gathered? Or the seven loaves for the four thousand, and how many baskets you gathered? How could you fail to perceive that I was not talking about bread?”
In my imagination I can see the disciples looking down at the ground – embarrassed and sad that they had let down Jesus again. But also still confused, scratching their heads – what is Jesus talking about? “You ask him.” “I’m not going to ask.” You ask.” But no one has the courage to speak up now.
So, yes, the unintentional comedy act of the disciples is funny. Jesus, of course, doesn’t seem to find it very funny – more often he’s just disappointed and exasperated. And maybe we shouldn’t find the foibles of the disciples too funny either – since the disciples are really stand-ins for us. Just like them we don’t always get what Jesus is talking about. And just like them we make big mistakes.
And out of all the disciples the biggest bumbler – the one who usually doesn’t seem to really get it – is Peter. I bet many of you have a soft spot for Peter. He’s a lovable character, all heart, sincere. He’s a working man – think of all those long hours out there on the boat, hauling in the nets, reeking of fish, always living on the edge. If the catch isn’t good he won’t be able to provide for himself and those who depend on him.
And, Peter, this seemingly simple fisherman, throws his lot in with Jesus. And Jesus knows all about Peter’s flaws and weaknesses and yet Jesus chooses Peter to be the leader of the disciples. Peter gets the job. Peter’s there at the big moments, like the Transfiguration. He’s often the spokesman for the other disciples. His name appears first on lists of the disciples.
And, yet, Peter gets a lot wrong. Despite his special position usually Peter doesn’t understand what Jesus is talking about. Like the others he takes Jesus literally, doesn’t get what the parables are about.
And Peter doesn’t just get things wrong. Peter does wrong things. Near the end of Jesus’ life Peter can’t even stay awake to keep Jesus company in the garden. Worse than that, Peter deserts Jesus in his greatest time of need – he’s nowhere to be found as Jesus hangs in agony on the cross.
And worst of all, as Jesus predicted, Peter denies Jesus three times to save his own skin.
Jesus knows all about Peter and yet Peter still gets the job. Jesus knows that Peter can be dense. Jesus knows that Peter can be a coward. Jesus knows that Peter is capable of betrayal – is capable of evil – and yet Peter gets the job.
The sad fact is that all of us can be dense, all of us can be cowards, and all of us are capable of evil – betrayals of God and one another, betrayals both large and small. I don’t know if any of you caught Rick Warren’s interviews last week of Barack Obama and John McCain. I didn’t see them myself but I’ve been reading about them and in particular the questions that Warren – pastor of a well-known megachurch and author of The Purpose Driven Life – asked about evil. He asked the candidates if evil exists and, if it does, do we ignore it? Do we negotiate with it? Do we contain it? Do we defeat it?
An interesting question and it provoked very different answers from the candidates. But as I’ve thought about it I wonder about the premise of the question. Warren seems to assume that if evil exists it exists out there somewhere. And evil is out there. But, unfortunately, evil also exists in our hearts, just as it existed in Peter’s heart.
Jesus knows all about Peter and yet Peter still gets the job.
Why?
Peter gets the job because Peter is open enough to God to get the big thing right. No matter is other mistakes – both past and present – Peter gets the big thing right. No matter the evil that exists in his heart – Peter gets the big thing right.
When Jesus asks, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter is open enough to God that he gets it. Peter tells Jesus, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Despite all his bumbling and mistakes and betrayals Peter gets the big thing right. Peter recognized who Jesus is. And so Peter gets the job – a job much bigger than I’m sure he ever bargained for.
“You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.”
And here this morning, on behalf of Matthew Patrick, his parents Rob and Cheryl are open enough to God to get the big thing right. On behalf of their son they are saying to Jesus, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”
And all of us gathered here, despite our own faults and imperfections, our bumbling and our betrayals, we have the chance to be open enough to God to once again to get the big thing right. As we say these prayers, as we renew our own Baptismal Covenant, as we pray for Matthew Patrick as he begins his Christian life, really we are like Peter. We are getting the big thing right. In front of everyone we are saying to Jesus, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”
Amen.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Ritual is Easy
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
August 17, 2008
Year A: Pentecost 14 (Proper 15)
Genesis 45: 1-15
Psalm 133
(Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32)
Matthew 15:10-28
Ritual is Easy
Today we have two gospel lessons for the price of one. First, we heard a bit of a debate between Jesus and the Pharisees about ritual purity. And then second we had this interesting and unusual encounter between Jesus and the Canaanite woman. If you’re thinking that two gospel lessons in one morning is too much, maybe I shouldn’t tell you that I had the tempting option of deleting the ritual purity part. But, I thought the creators of the lectionary included both of them, so, you know, in for a penny, in for a pound.
Both of these passages are challenging and it might be helpful to put them into some context. Although similar stories appear in Mark’s gospel, these of course come from Matthew. And Matthew and his community had particular interests and themes that are clearly reflected in what we heard this morning. Most scholars agree that Matthew’s community was made up mostly of Jewish followers of Jesus, although there were at least some gentile Christians too.
Matthew is very careful to present Jesus as first and foremost the Jewish Messiah who ultimately offers salvation for the whole world. Matthew probably drew from the earlier gospel of Mark. Much of the wording is the same. But it’s not exactly the same. For example, Mark boldly declares that Jesus “declared all foods clean.” Matthew and his Jewish community are not prepared to go that far and so that bold declaration is deleted in Matthew’s gospel.
So for Matthew’s community the debate between Jesus and the Pharisees about ritual purity is a debate taking place within Judaism. It’s not a debate between Jews and Christians! And it’s probably a debate that continued between Jewish followers of Jesus and other Jews throughout the First Century. So for the first readers and hearers of the gospel, this exchange about ritual purity is not a history lesson and it’s definitely not an attack on the Jews. For the first readers and hearers of Matthew’s gospel the debate about ritual purity is a current event.
For Matthew this debate about ritual purity is part of increasing hostility between the Pharisees and Jesus and probably hostility between the Pharisees and the early followers of Jesus. I know we’ve talked about this before, but it’s worth repeating that although we don’t know as much about them as we’d like, the Pharisees probably get a bad rap in the New Testament. At heart, it seems like the Pharisees were interested in making sure that the everyday lives of Jews were holy. So you have this idea of a ritual hand washing before meals – which is not included in the Torah, but apparently was seen as a ritual to make everyday life holy.
Not a bad religious practice and of course it’s simply good hygiene. As a matter of fact, we even do a little ritual hand washing here in church, just before Lauren or I celebrate the Eucharist. Nothing wrong with it at all.
And, we’re a long way from those early debates among Jews who did or didn’t follow Jesus. But we’re still big on ritual, aren’t we? The Episcopal Church is known for ritual – which is all well and good. But in today’s gospel Jesus reminds us that the danger with ritual is that we can allow the ritual to become more important than what’s going on in our hearts. The danger with ritual is that because we’ve done the symbolic action – we’ve gone to church, bowed and kneeled and blessed ourselves - then we think there’s nothing more to be done. We decide that we don’t have to worry that our lives and our hearts don’t quite match what we’re doing symbolically.
We come here for our ritual each Sunday not as the end of our Christian life but as the beginning. We come here each week to be fed, to be strengthened, to hopefully be inspired, for our Christian lives out there in the world.
To the Pharisees and to us, Jesus says ritual is fine and important enough, but it’s nowhere near as important as the content of our hearts and the way we live our lives.
Ritual is easy. Dealing with what’s in our hearts and the way we live our lives is the challenge.
Which brings us to our second gospel lesson, Jesus’ encounter with the Canaanite woman. Since the gospels are usually interested in depicting Jesus’ power, wisdom and even divinity, it’s rare that we see Jesus learning and growing. But if we hold on to Jesus the human being then there must have been countless moments of learning and growing for Jesus. And here Matthew captures a rare moment of growth for Jesus – moment when Jesus has to match up his words with the way he lives his life.
Matthew specifically names her as a Canaanite to make sure we get that she is not a Jew – she is a pagan. So there are two strikes against her – she’s a woman and she’s a pagan. But despite that, like so many others, this woman calls out to Jesus asking him to cast out a demon from her daughter. And although she’s a pagan, she does address Jesus as Lord, Son of David.
The disciples simply find her annoying. And Jesus acts in a very un-Jesus way towards her, doesn’t he? We’re used to Jesus crossing all sorts of boundaries, but here at first he ignores her. That doesn’t seem like Jesus. And then he falls back on boundaries, telling the woman that he had come only for the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Again, not very Jesus-like. But this woman is persistent and Jesus says maybe the most un-Jesus thing in the entire New Testament when he tells her, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
Some commentaries point out that the Greek word used for dogs might be better translated as puppies, and that does soften it a little. But isn’t it shocking to hear Jesus equate this woman (who has addressed him as Lord and who has a disturbed daughter) with a dog?!
But the Canaanite woman responds to the insult with a clever line, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”
And at least in my imagination I see Jesus having an “a-ha” moment. Jesus is reminded that God is God of all and he may be sent to the Jews first, but his ministry and message is for the whole world.
Ritual is easy. Dealing with what’s in our hearts and the way we live our lives is the challenge. Our task is to live our lives in a way that matches what we say we believe and who we say we are – to live our lives in a way that matches our rituals. If Jesus had to learn and practice living that way then for sure we do too.
I was reminded of how far I have to go to get my life to match what I say I believe just a few days ago in San Francisco. Many of you know I was away with the six young people and two other adults on the J2A pilgrimage to some of the Spanish missions in and around San Francisco. After the pilgrimage was over I stayed behind in the city for a few quiet days in that beautiful place.
My plan for each morning was to get up early, go to Starbucks, spend some time on the New York Times crossword and then head up to Grace Cathedral where the have a daily 7:30 morning Eucharist.
On Monday everything went according to plan. Starbucks was deserted, the crossword was easy, and it was feast of St. Clare. It felt appropriate and meaningful to celebrate Clare’s feast in the city named in honor of her great friend, Francis of Assisi. I was on kind of a spiritual high.
The next morning it was back to Starbucks but this time things didn’t go quite according to plan. I went at the same time but there were more people including one rather distinguished looking man who was talking to a woman in a fairly loud voice about singers and movie stars. At first I thought they were friends, but when he got up to leave she was visibly relieved. His last words to her were “When you’re in Vegas, just mention my name and you’ll have carte blanche!”
That got my attention for a moment and then I went back to my crossword and immediately forgot about him.
Five minutes later I looked up and he was standing above me. All I wanted was to be left alone. But he says to me that he went outside and asked “the Big Guy Upstairs” who he should turn to and God told him he should choose me. My heart sank. So much for my solitude, so much for the crossword, plus I needed to leave soon if I wanted top get to the cathedral by 7:30. He sat down and began to tell me his story.
Looking more closely at him, although he was clean and neat I noticed that his finger nails were broken and dirty. He told me a fantastic and convoluted story. I’ll spare you most of the details. (I had trouble following it all anyway). But the gist of it was that he was fabulously wealthy, a generous donor to charities, the subject of an upcoming Robin Williams movie and would soon be touring with Frank Sinatra, Jr.
There was just one problem. He needed $28 to get his maroon Bentley out of the garage around the corner. If I gave him the money he would reward me with a cashier’s check for an enormous sum. Although fascinated by his story I was mostly annoyed at being interrupted and I was getting stressed out that I was going to be late for church.
I told him I could only give him $5. He was disappointed and suggested that I must be an alcoholic, a drug addict or a narcissist to turn him down.
I could have given him more money. I could have bought him something to eat and drink. Instead I got away from him as quickly as possible and raced into the cathedral, gasping, just as the service began.
Tuesday was the feast of Florence Nightingale. The gospel that day was from Matthew 25. You know it. Jesus says about those who are condemned, “for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me…”
That familiar gospel reading hit me with new force. I was in such a rush to get to church that I had neglected Jesus right there in that fascinating and disturbed and annoying man.
So I had an “a-ha” moment Tuesday morning at Grace Cathedral. My ritual did not match up with the way I was living my life.
Today we get two gospel lessons for the price of one. But the message is the same. Ritual is easy. Dealing with what’s in our hearts and the way we live our lives is the challenge for all of us.
Amen.
August 17, 2008
Year A: Pentecost 14 (Proper 15)
Genesis 45: 1-15
Psalm 133
(Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32)
Matthew 15:10-28
Ritual is Easy
Today we have two gospel lessons for the price of one. First, we heard a bit of a debate between Jesus and the Pharisees about ritual purity. And then second we had this interesting and unusual encounter between Jesus and the Canaanite woman. If you’re thinking that two gospel lessons in one morning is too much, maybe I shouldn’t tell you that I had the tempting option of deleting the ritual purity part. But, I thought the creators of the lectionary included both of them, so, you know, in for a penny, in for a pound.
Both of these passages are challenging and it might be helpful to put them into some context. Although similar stories appear in Mark’s gospel, these of course come from Matthew. And Matthew and his community had particular interests and themes that are clearly reflected in what we heard this morning. Most scholars agree that Matthew’s community was made up mostly of Jewish followers of Jesus, although there were at least some gentile Christians too.
Matthew is very careful to present Jesus as first and foremost the Jewish Messiah who ultimately offers salvation for the whole world. Matthew probably drew from the earlier gospel of Mark. Much of the wording is the same. But it’s not exactly the same. For example, Mark boldly declares that Jesus “declared all foods clean.” Matthew and his Jewish community are not prepared to go that far and so that bold declaration is deleted in Matthew’s gospel.
So for Matthew’s community the debate between Jesus and the Pharisees about ritual purity is a debate taking place within Judaism. It’s not a debate between Jews and Christians! And it’s probably a debate that continued between Jewish followers of Jesus and other Jews throughout the First Century. So for the first readers and hearers of the gospel, this exchange about ritual purity is not a history lesson and it’s definitely not an attack on the Jews. For the first readers and hearers of Matthew’s gospel the debate about ritual purity is a current event.
For Matthew this debate about ritual purity is part of increasing hostility between the Pharisees and Jesus and probably hostility between the Pharisees and the early followers of Jesus. I know we’ve talked about this before, but it’s worth repeating that although we don’t know as much about them as we’d like, the Pharisees probably get a bad rap in the New Testament. At heart, it seems like the Pharisees were interested in making sure that the everyday lives of Jews were holy. So you have this idea of a ritual hand washing before meals – which is not included in the Torah, but apparently was seen as a ritual to make everyday life holy.
Not a bad religious practice and of course it’s simply good hygiene. As a matter of fact, we even do a little ritual hand washing here in church, just before Lauren or I celebrate the Eucharist. Nothing wrong with it at all.
And, we’re a long way from those early debates among Jews who did or didn’t follow Jesus. But we’re still big on ritual, aren’t we? The Episcopal Church is known for ritual – which is all well and good. But in today’s gospel Jesus reminds us that the danger with ritual is that we can allow the ritual to become more important than what’s going on in our hearts. The danger with ritual is that because we’ve done the symbolic action – we’ve gone to church, bowed and kneeled and blessed ourselves - then we think there’s nothing more to be done. We decide that we don’t have to worry that our lives and our hearts don’t quite match what we’re doing symbolically.
We come here for our ritual each Sunday not as the end of our Christian life but as the beginning. We come here each week to be fed, to be strengthened, to hopefully be inspired, for our Christian lives out there in the world.
To the Pharisees and to us, Jesus says ritual is fine and important enough, but it’s nowhere near as important as the content of our hearts and the way we live our lives.
Ritual is easy. Dealing with what’s in our hearts and the way we live our lives is the challenge.
Which brings us to our second gospel lesson, Jesus’ encounter with the Canaanite woman. Since the gospels are usually interested in depicting Jesus’ power, wisdom and even divinity, it’s rare that we see Jesus learning and growing. But if we hold on to Jesus the human being then there must have been countless moments of learning and growing for Jesus. And here Matthew captures a rare moment of growth for Jesus – moment when Jesus has to match up his words with the way he lives his life.
Matthew specifically names her as a Canaanite to make sure we get that she is not a Jew – she is a pagan. So there are two strikes against her – she’s a woman and she’s a pagan. But despite that, like so many others, this woman calls out to Jesus asking him to cast out a demon from her daughter. And although she’s a pagan, she does address Jesus as Lord, Son of David.
The disciples simply find her annoying. And Jesus acts in a very un-Jesus way towards her, doesn’t he? We’re used to Jesus crossing all sorts of boundaries, but here at first he ignores her. That doesn’t seem like Jesus. And then he falls back on boundaries, telling the woman that he had come only for the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Again, not very Jesus-like. But this woman is persistent and Jesus says maybe the most un-Jesus thing in the entire New Testament when he tells her, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
Some commentaries point out that the Greek word used for dogs might be better translated as puppies, and that does soften it a little. But isn’t it shocking to hear Jesus equate this woman (who has addressed him as Lord and who has a disturbed daughter) with a dog?!
But the Canaanite woman responds to the insult with a clever line, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”
And at least in my imagination I see Jesus having an “a-ha” moment. Jesus is reminded that God is God of all and he may be sent to the Jews first, but his ministry and message is for the whole world.
Ritual is easy. Dealing with what’s in our hearts and the way we live our lives is the challenge. Our task is to live our lives in a way that matches what we say we believe and who we say we are – to live our lives in a way that matches our rituals. If Jesus had to learn and practice living that way then for sure we do too.
I was reminded of how far I have to go to get my life to match what I say I believe just a few days ago in San Francisco. Many of you know I was away with the six young people and two other adults on the J2A pilgrimage to some of the Spanish missions in and around San Francisco. After the pilgrimage was over I stayed behind in the city for a few quiet days in that beautiful place.
My plan for each morning was to get up early, go to Starbucks, spend some time on the New York Times crossword and then head up to Grace Cathedral where the have a daily 7:30 morning Eucharist.
On Monday everything went according to plan. Starbucks was deserted, the crossword was easy, and it was feast of St. Clare. It felt appropriate and meaningful to celebrate Clare’s feast in the city named in honor of her great friend, Francis of Assisi. I was on kind of a spiritual high.
The next morning it was back to Starbucks but this time things didn’t go quite according to plan. I went at the same time but there were more people including one rather distinguished looking man who was talking to a woman in a fairly loud voice about singers and movie stars. At first I thought they were friends, but when he got up to leave she was visibly relieved. His last words to her were “When you’re in Vegas, just mention my name and you’ll have carte blanche!”
That got my attention for a moment and then I went back to my crossword and immediately forgot about him.
Five minutes later I looked up and he was standing above me. All I wanted was to be left alone. But he says to me that he went outside and asked “the Big Guy Upstairs” who he should turn to and God told him he should choose me. My heart sank. So much for my solitude, so much for the crossword, plus I needed to leave soon if I wanted top get to the cathedral by 7:30. He sat down and began to tell me his story.
Looking more closely at him, although he was clean and neat I noticed that his finger nails were broken and dirty. He told me a fantastic and convoluted story. I’ll spare you most of the details. (I had trouble following it all anyway). But the gist of it was that he was fabulously wealthy, a generous donor to charities, the subject of an upcoming Robin Williams movie and would soon be touring with Frank Sinatra, Jr.
There was just one problem. He needed $28 to get his maroon Bentley out of the garage around the corner. If I gave him the money he would reward me with a cashier’s check for an enormous sum. Although fascinated by his story I was mostly annoyed at being interrupted and I was getting stressed out that I was going to be late for church.
I told him I could only give him $5. He was disappointed and suggested that I must be an alcoholic, a drug addict or a narcissist to turn him down.
I could have given him more money. I could have bought him something to eat and drink. Instead I got away from him as quickly as possible and raced into the cathedral, gasping, just as the service began.
Tuesday was the feast of Florence Nightingale. The gospel that day was from Matthew 25. You know it. Jesus says about those who are condemned, “for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me…”
That familiar gospel reading hit me with new force. I was in such a rush to get to church that I had neglected Jesus right there in that fascinating and disturbed and annoying man.
So I had an “a-ha” moment Tuesday morning at Grace Cathedral. My ritual did not match up with the way I was living my life.
Today we get two gospel lessons for the price of one. But the message is the same. Ritual is easy. Dealing with what’s in our hearts and the way we live our lives is the challenge for all of us.
Amen.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
A Simple Song
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
July 27, 2008
Year A: The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
Proper 12
Genesis 29:15-28
Psalm 128
(Romans 8:26-39)
Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52
A Simple Song
Today’s gospel lesson brings us to the end of the series of Jesus’ parables in the Gospel of Matthew. Two weeks ago we heard the parable of the sower. Last week we heard the parable of the weeds and the wheat. And this morning we just heard a quick series of shorter parables. I have to admit, I nearly laughed when I imagined this scene. Imagine Jesus running through all of these parables and then he turns to the crowd and asks, “Have you understood all this?”
Can’t you imagine the people in the crowd blinking nervously and instead of admitting their confusion, they nod and smile and say “Yes” to Jesus. And probably their next thought was, “I hope he doesn’t call on me and ask me to explain what these parables mean!”
In the parables Jesus is trying to teach about the Kingdom of God – or as Matthew calls it, the Kingdom of Heaven. But the truth is the parables – although seemingly simple - are not so easy to understand. When you think about it, teaching through parables is an interesting way to teach, isn’t it? In my experience, most teachers are mostly concerned that their students clearly understand the subject being taught. And so, naturally enough, teachers try – not always successfully – to be as clear as possible.
One of the reasons that Jesus is such a great teacher – and so dangerous to those in power – is that he challenges his followers to think on their own. Even today, how bold and dangerous to challenge people to think for themselves! Jesus’ teaching is seemingly simple, but not always clear-cut or obvious. People have spent the past two-thousand years coming up with interpretations of these parables. All across the church I am sure preachers are in pulpits today preaching wildly different sermons on these parables.
In his parables, Jesus uses everyday, simple things – such as seeds and leaven – to offer metaphors for the kingdom of God. The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed…the kingdom of heaven is like yeast…the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls…the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea…
Over and over, Jesus uses these everyday, simple images to describe what the kingdom of God - the kingdom of heaven - is like.
Most of you know that on Wednesday evenings this summer a bunch of us have been meeting to watch and discuss a video series called “Saving Jesus.” It’s been a very stimulating and fun experience. Anyway, this past Wednesday in our “Saving Jesus” discussion group we talked about the Kingdom of God – and just what Jesus and his early followers understood that term to mean – and just what we understand the kingdom to be. One of the theologians in the video suggested that Jesus had to use metaphors to describe the kingdom because even he couldn’t see the kingdom clearly. Jesus knew what the kingdom was like – but not precisely what the kingdom is.
That sounds reasonable to me. I think, though, that even if Jesus had a clearer image of the kingdom, human language – the human brain – can only go so far in understanding the eternal and the ultimate. And so the best we can do is grasp that somehow the kingdom is like a mustard seed, the kingdom is like yeast.
And, I’d also suggest that Jesus used these earthy metaphors to describe the kingdom of heaven because he wanted us to get our heads out of the clouds. The kingdom of heaven that Jesus tried to describe is not the afterlife. If we look at the New Testament carefully, we find that Jesus doesn’t have a whole lot to say about the afterlife. Jesus mentions the afterlife, but it’s not his main interest. And, so, clearly, for Jesus the kingdom of God or the kingdom of heaven does not equal life after death.
Instead, for Jesus the kingdom of heaven is a transformation of this world – right here, right now. The kingdom is a transformation that begins with Jesus two thousand years ago and continues with us right here, right now. One of the people in the video powerfully described the kingdom of God as a world where we love other people’s children as much as we love our own.
And the earthy metaphors used by Jesus point us to the fact that the kingdom - this transformation of right here right now begins in very small, simple ways. The transformation of right here right now begins with something as small as a mustard seed and as simple as yeast.
In these parables Jesus says look the kingdom of heaven is beginning all around us – right here, right now in countless small, simple moments that have the potential to grow into something grand and magnificent.
But - we need to pay attention to the simple things. We need eyes to see and ears to hear the transformation that’s underway.
And I think you and I in the early 21st Century are at a distinct disadvantage compared to Jesus’ original followers back in the First Century. You and I are bombarded by so many images and by so much noise; we can become blind and deaf to the kingdom of God that is being unveiled all around us. Our spiritual senses can become dull and so we can’t see or feel the tiny mustard seeds.
For the past couple of weeks I’ve been haunted by the animated movie that’s out right now, WALL-E. Have any of you seen it? I usually don’t like to include movies in sermons because you know if people haven’t seen it they sometimes tune out or there’s the risk of spoiling the movie by giving too much away.
But, I’ll take a chance and make an exception for WALL-E. The premise of the movie is that there has been an environmental catastrophe on earth. Because of pollution the planet has become uninhabitable – a bleak, dusty wasteland filled with all the garbage we’ve left behind. The only activity we see on the planet is one little robot – WALL-E – who is essentially a trash compacter on wheels. The robot spends its day scooping up garbage, compacting it, and piling it in soaring towers of trash. It’s a depressing sight. But, it turns out WALL-E the trash-hauling robot has somehow transcended his programming. This little robot has begun collecting items he finds in the trash that capture his imagination – seemingly simple things like a Rubik’s cube, and most especially a videotape of the movie Hello Dolly that he watches over and over. Again and again he watches the men and women in the movie dancing and singing, holding hands. He imitates their dancing. And most of all WALL-E yearns for the simple feeling of holding another’s hand.
Meanwhile what’s left of humanity is living on a giant spaceship, devouring vast amounts of junk food, their eyes fixated on TV and computer screens, interested only in their own comfort, paying no attention to one another or to the beautiful wonders of space just outside their windows.
Go see the movie to find out what happens next.
In some ways the movie seems like a modern parable. The kingdom of heaven is like a robot realizing that life is about the simple feeling of holding another’s hand – that small, simple gesture of love that we know can be so powerful and mean so much. The kingdom of heaven is like yearning for love.
The God’s kingdom is found in these ordinary, extraordinary moments – these simple acts and gestures. That’s what the kingdom of God is like… The transformation of right here, right now begins with these simple acts of love.
Thinking about simple acts and gestures reminds me of “A Simple Song” from Leonard Bernstein’s Mass. I think Dr. Anne has used it during services a couple of times over the years. It’s a piece that I love very much. Anyway, the lyric goes:
“Sing God a simple song. Make it up as you go along. Sing like you like to sing. God loves all simple things. For God is the simplest of all.”
And today’s Old Testament lesson about Jacob and Rachel gives us a wonderfully touching example of a simple thing that grows into something magnificent. If you were here two weeks ago, you might remember that I was a little tough on Jacob, even calling him a “fink” because of how he treated his brother Esau and tricked his father Isaac. I still stand by that, and in this morning’s passage Jacob gets the tables turned on him in this strange little story of Jacob being tricked into marrying Rachel’s sister, Leah.
But the passage is not really about trickery. The passage is about the love that Jacob had for Rachel - this simple feeling of love. As the Bible says, “So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her.”
The kingdom of God is like a man who loves a woman so much that he works as an indentured servant for seven years and yet it feels like just a few days.
For the past few Sundays we’ve been reminded of Jesus’ parables, telling his first followers and telling us what the kingdom of God is like. Jesus is not describing heaven. Instead he is offering us a taste of the transformation of the world that begins with simple acts of love. Jesus is offering us metaphors for a world where we love other people’s children as much as we love our own. Jesus is teaching us about a transformation that can happen right here right now with us – with simple acts of love.
“Sing God a simple song. Make it up as you go along. Sing like you like to sing. God loves all simple things. For God is the simplest of all.”
Amen.
July 27, 2008
Year A: The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
Proper 12
Genesis 29:15-28
Psalm 128
(Romans 8:26-39)
Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52
A Simple Song
Today’s gospel lesson brings us to the end of the series of Jesus’ parables in the Gospel of Matthew. Two weeks ago we heard the parable of the sower. Last week we heard the parable of the weeds and the wheat. And this morning we just heard a quick series of shorter parables. I have to admit, I nearly laughed when I imagined this scene. Imagine Jesus running through all of these parables and then he turns to the crowd and asks, “Have you understood all this?”
Can’t you imagine the people in the crowd blinking nervously and instead of admitting their confusion, they nod and smile and say “Yes” to Jesus. And probably their next thought was, “I hope he doesn’t call on me and ask me to explain what these parables mean!”
In the parables Jesus is trying to teach about the Kingdom of God – or as Matthew calls it, the Kingdom of Heaven. But the truth is the parables – although seemingly simple - are not so easy to understand. When you think about it, teaching through parables is an interesting way to teach, isn’t it? In my experience, most teachers are mostly concerned that their students clearly understand the subject being taught. And so, naturally enough, teachers try – not always successfully – to be as clear as possible.
One of the reasons that Jesus is such a great teacher – and so dangerous to those in power – is that he challenges his followers to think on their own. Even today, how bold and dangerous to challenge people to think for themselves! Jesus’ teaching is seemingly simple, but not always clear-cut or obvious. People have spent the past two-thousand years coming up with interpretations of these parables. All across the church I am sure preachers are in pulpits today preaching wildly different sermons on these parables.
In his parables, Jesus uses everyday, simple things – such as seeds and leaven – to offer metaphors for the kingdom of God. The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed…the kingdom of heaven is like yeast…the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls…the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea…
Over and over, Jesus uses these everyday, simple images to describe what the kingdom of God - the kingdom of heaven - is like.
Most of you know that on Wednesday evenings this summer a bunch of us have been meeting to watch and discuss a video series called “Saving Jesus.” It’s been a very stimulating and fun experience. Anyway, this past Wednesday in our “Saving Jesus” discussion group we talked about the Kingdom of God – and just what Jesus and his early followers understood that term to mean – and just what we understand the kingdom to be. One of the theologians in the video suggested that Jesus had to use metaphors to describe the kingdom because even he couldn’t see the kingdom clearly. Jesus knew what the kingdom was like – but not precisely what the kingdom is.
That sounds reasonable to me. I think, though, that even if Jesus had a clearer image of the kingdom, human language – the human brain – can only go so far in understanding the eternal and the ultimate. And so the best we can do is grasp that somehow the kingdom is like a mustard seed, the kingdom is like yeast.
And, I’d also suggest that Jesus used these earthy metaphors to describe the kingdom of heaven because he wanted us to get our heads out of the clouds. The kingdom of heaven that Jesus tried to describe is not the afterlife. If we look at the New Testament carefully, we find that Jesus doesn’t have a whole lot to say about the afterlife. Jesus mentions the afterlife, but it’s not his main interest. And, so, clearly, for Jesus the kingdom of God or the kingdom of heaven does not equal life after death.
Instead, for Jesus the kingdom of heaven is a transformation of this world – right here, right now. The kingdom is a transformation that begins with Jesus two thousand years ago and continues with us right here, right now. One of the people in the video powerfully described the kingdom of God as a world where we love other people’s children as much as we love our own.
And the earthy metaphors used by Jesus point us to the fact that the kingdom - this transformation of right here right now begins in very small, simple ways. The transformation of right here right now begins with something as small as a mustard seed and as simple as yeast.
In these parables Jesus says look the kingdom of heaven is beginning all around us – right here, right now in countless small, simple moments that have the potential to grow into something grand and magnificent.
But - we need to pay attention to the simple things. We need eyes to see and ears to hear the transformation that’s underway.
And I think you and I in the early 21st Century are at a distinct disadvantage compared to Jesus’ original followers back in the First Century. You and I are bombarded by so many images and by so much noise; we can become blind and deaf to the kingdom of God that is being unveiled all around us. Our spiritual senses can become dull and so we can’t see or feel the tiny mustard seeds.
For the past couple of weeks I’ve been haunted by the animated movie that’s out right now, WALL-E. Have any of you seen it? I usually don’t like to include movies in sermons because you know if people haven’t seen it they sometimes tune out or there’s the risk of spoiling the movie by giving too much away.
But, I’ll take a chance and make an exception for WALL-E. The premise of the movie is that there has been an environmental catastrophe on earth. Because of pollution the planet has become uninhabitable – a bleak, dusty wasteland filled with all the garbage we’ve left behind. The only activity we see on the planet is one little robot – WALL-E – who is essentially a trash compacter on wheels. The robot spends its day scooping up garbage, compacting it, and piling it in soaring towers of trash. It’s a depressing sight. But, it turns out WALL-E the trash-hauling robot has somehow transcended his programming. This little robot has begun collecting items he finds in the trash that capture his imagination – seemingly simple things like a Rubik’s cube, and most especially a videotape of the movie Hello Dolly that he watches over and over. Again and again he watches the men and women in the movie dancing and singing, holding hands. He imitates their dancing. And most of all WALL-E yearns for the simple feeling of holding another’s hand.
Meanwhile what’s left of humanity is living on a giant spaceship, devouring vast amounts of junk food, their eyes fixated on TV and computer screens, interested only in their own comfort, paying no attention to one another or to the beautiful wonders of space just outside their windows.
Go see the movie to find out what happens next.
In some ways the movie seems like a modern parable. The kingdom of heaven is like a robot realizing that life is about the simple feeling of holding another’s hand – that small, simple gesture of love that we know can be so powerful and mean so much. The kingdom of heaven is like yearning for love.
The God’s kingdom is found in these ordinary, extraordinary moments – these simple acts and gestures. That’s what the kingdom of God is like… The transformation of right here, right now begins with these simple acts of love.
Thinking about simple acts and gestures reminds me of “A Simple Song” from Leonard Bernstein’s Mass. I think Dr. Anne has used it during services a couple of times over the years. It’s a piece that I love very much. Anyway, the lyric goes:
“Sing God a simple song. Make it up as you go along. Sing like you like to sing. God loves all simple things. For God is the simplest of all.”
And today’s Old Testament lesson about Jacob and Rachel gives us a wonderfully touching example of a simple thing that grows into something magnificent. If you were here two weeks ago, you might remember that I was a little tough on Jacob, even calling him a “fink” because of how he treated his brother Esau and tricked his father Isaac. I still stand by that, and in this morning’s passage Jacob gets the tables turned on him in this strange little story of Jacob being tricked into marrying Rachel’s sister, Leah.
But the passage is not really about trickery. The passage is about the love that Jacob had for Rachel - this simple feeling of love. As the Bible says, “So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her.”
The kingdom of God is like a man who loves a woman so much that he works as an indentured servant for seven years and yet it feels like just a few days.
For the past few Sundays we’ve been reminded of Jesus’ parables, telling his first followers and telling us what the kingdom of God is like. Jesus is not describing heaven. Instead he is offering us a taste of the transformation of the world that begins with simple acts of love. Jesus is offering us metaphors for a world where we love other people’s children as much as we love our own. Jesus is teaching us about a transformation that can happen right here right now with us – with simple acts of love.
“Sing God a simple song. Make it up as you go along. Sing like you like to sing. God loves all simple things. For God is the simplest of all.”
Amen.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Our "Wasteful", Hopeful God
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
July 13, 2008
Year A: Proper 10
Genesis 25:19-34
Psalm 119:105-12
(Romans 8:1-11)
Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
Our “Wasteful”, Hopeful God
Today’s gospel lesson is one of the best-known of Jesus’ parables – the parable of the sower. It’s a well-known parable and it seems from the early church it has been recognized as a particularly important parable. The three synoptic gospels, Mark, Matthew and Luke all present the parable of the sower as the first of Jesus’ parables. And a good biblical rule of thumb is that order is usually not accidental. Mark, Matthew and Luke all seem to agree that this is a particularly important parable.
Why? What makes this parable so important? Why is it placed first in these three gospels? Well, unfortunately I’m faced with a problem that I’ve mentioned before. I’m sure Jesus’ original audience could easily relate to the details of the parable of the sower. They may not have understood the meaning of the parable, but they could easily imagine the situation. But, what about us today? Having spent nearly my entire life in the city, what do I know about sowers, seeds and planting? The closest I ever get to a farm is the produce section at Shop Rite.
Having said that, I do wonder about the sower in this parable. Doesn’t the sower seem kind of wasteful? Think about the vast hunger that exists in the world today. Isn’t it scandalous to think of a farmer wasting seeds by not being especially mindful about where they are planted? First Century Palestine was not a particularly rich society. There wasn’t much of a safety net. Seeds must have been especially precious. Wasteful planting would have been at least as scandalous then as it would be now.
Yet in the parable Jesus describes the sower letting seeds fall on the path, giving a snack to the birds. Jesus describes other seeds falling on rocky soil or among thorns. Whatever the reality of First Century farming, this is sloppy and indiscriminate.
But of course this parable isn’t an instruction manual about farming. In this parable Jesus is telling us something very important about God and very important about us.
In his most recent New Year’s message the archbishop of Canterbury pointed out that “God doesn’t do waste.” He went on to say that God never gives up on any of us, never throws any of us away, and never sees any of us as waste. Instead, God’s Word, God’s grace, God’s love is poured out on everyone – the good and the not so good, the smart and the not so smart, the nice and the not so nice. God’s Word, God’s grace is poured out on everyone, no matter if our soil appears to be rich or rocky. We might think that God is being wasteful, but God doesn’t do waste. God is indiscriminate. God is hopeful. God is generous. God’s Word, God’s grace, God’s love is being poured out on all of us.
I remember the summer I did my clinical training at Christ Hospital in Jersey City. Most days in the morning I would walk to the hospital and at the end of the day I’d walk back home. Each way it took about 35 minutes. As many of you know, I love Jersey City, but the truth is it can be a pretty gritty place – lots of concrete and asphalt. Over the course of that summer what I noticed on those walks was how many people took the time and made the effort to plant flowers in front of their houses – sometimes in the little scrap of dirt along the curb. In these little plots of land, in this inhospitable place people “wasted” their time planting and tending gardens. In the midst of cars, trucks and buses there were roses, marigolds and hydrangea. We might think that this was a waste, but obviously, they didn’t think that they were wasting their seed or their time. These were people of hope, not waste. These people believed life and beauty could sprout in the unlikeliest of places.
And so in this parable Jesus tells us the truth that God is busy sowing seeds in the most inhospitable places. God is indiscriminate. God is hopeful. God is generous. God is seemingly wasteful. God is out in the middle of Route 24 planting seeds. Not waste, but hope. Not waste, but love.
Because the truth is, you never know which seeds will flourish. This is a lesson I learned over and over during my teaching years. When you teach gradually you learn it’s hard to tell the good soil from the not so good. I remember in my early years as a teacher I’d get fooled all the time. I’d have students who looked clear-eyed and super attentive, nodding at all my insights, laughing at my jokes. In my mind I’d quickly peg them as the “good students,” the rich soil. And then there were others who seemed to not be paying any attention, fidgeting, doodling, not nodding at my insights, not laughing at my jokes. In my mind I’d quickly peg them as the not so good students, the rocky soil, the waste of my time.
You know where I’m going with this. It didn’t take me too many school years to realize, you never know. Pretty often it was the kids who seemed not into class who ended up doing the best work and the kids who were doing all that nodding and laughing – well, that’s all that they were doing – nodding and laughing.
And of course, we also know that seeds take time to grow - sometimes a really long time. There was an amazing story recently of a 2000 year-old date palm seed discovered in an archaeological dig in Israel that scientists have germinated and have grown into a plant – a date palm tree that they have named Methuselah.
How often in our own lives have we planted seeds that take a long time to bear fruit? Those of you who are parents of young children I’m sure hope that all your care and nurturing will show results long in the future.
I remember one birthday, maybe I was seven or eight, my parents gave me a very nice, illustrated Children’s Bible as a present. I remember being bitterly disappointed. I don’t know what I was hoping for – maybe a Captain Kirk action figure – but it wasn’t a Bible. Sometimes it takes a long time for seeds to bear fruit!
Again as a teacher, there have been a couple of times when a former student has gotten in touch with me to let me know that something I said or did in class had an impact on their lives. There’s no better feeling. And it’s always been a student I would have never expected and sometimes a student I could hardly remember. It’s hard to tell the good soil from the rocky soil. It’s hard to tell the good soil from the rocky soil because it’s not about our talents or intelligence – it’s about how we respond to what God offers to us. How do we respond to God’s word, God’s love, God’s grace that is being poured out on all of us? We choose to be good soil or rocky soil.
And our Old Testament lesson offers a great example of seemingly rocky soil producing great fruit. We’ve been hearing the story of Abraham’s descendants and particularly the story of Jacob – grandson of Abraham, son of Isaac and Rebecca, twin brother of Esau. This is what nowadays we might politely call a dysfunctional family. Jacob in particular is not an especially likable or promising character. Based on these early stories, one wouldn’t look at Jacob and see good soil. In today’s lesson we have the warm and fuzzy family moment of Jacob getting Esau to give up his birthright in exchange for a bowl of lentil stew and a piece of bread. Nice guy, huh? And a couple of Sundays from now we’ll hear the story of Jacob tricking his blind father Isaac into thinking he was Esau and receiving his father’s blessing. To be blunt, Jacob is kind of a fink.
And yet the Bible tells us that the Twelve Tribes of Israel rise out of the seemingly rocky soil of Jacob. God is indiscriminate. God is hopeful. God’s Word, God’s grace, God’s love was poured out on Jacob long ago and is poured out on all of us here today.
In the parable of the sower Jesus tells us something very important about God. God word, God’s grace, God’s love is poured out on all of us. God is seemingly wasteful. God is indiscriminate. God is hopeful.
The question for us is how will we respond to God’s word, God’s love, God’s grace, God’s generosity? Will we say no to God and choose to be rocky soil? Or will we say yes to God and choose to be good soil?
Amen.
July 13, 2008
Year A: Proper 10
Genesis 25:19-34
Psalm 119:105-12
(Romans 8:1-11)
Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
Our “Wasteful”, Hopeful God
Today’s gospel lesson is one of the best-known of Jesus’ parables – the parable of the sower. It’s a well-known parable and it seems from the early church it has been recognized as a particularly important parable. The three synoptic gospels, Mark, Matthew and Luke all present the parable of the sower as the first of Jesus’ parables. And a good biblical rule of thumb is that order is usually not accidental. Mark, Matthew and Luke all seem to agree that this is a particularly important parable.
Why? What makes this parable so important? Why is it placed first in these three gospels? Well, unfortunately I’m faced with a problem that I’ve mentioned before. I’m sure Jesus’ original audience could easily relate to the details of the parable of the sower. They may not have understood the meaning of the parable, but they could easily imagine the situation. But, what about us today? Having spent nearly my entire life in the city, what do I know about sowers, seeds and planting? The closest I ever get to a farm is the produce section at Shop Rite.
Having said that, I do wonder about the sower in this parable. Doesn’t the sower seem kind of wasteful? Think about the vast hunger that exists in the world today. Isn’t it scandalous to think of a farmer wasting seeds by not being especially mindful about where they are planted? First Century Palestine was not a particularly rich society. There wasn’t much of a safety net. Seeds must have been especially precious. Wasteful planting would have been at least as scandalous then as it would be now.
Yet in the parable Jesus describes the sower letting seeds fall on the path, giving a snack to the birds. Jesus describes other seeds falling on rocky soil or among thorns. Whatever the reality of First Century farming, this is sloppy and indiscriminate.
But of course this parable isn’t an instruction manual about farming. In this parable Jesus is telling us something very important about God and very important about us.
In his most recent New Year’s message the archbishop of Canterbury pointed out that “God doesn’t do waste.” He went on to say that God never gives up on any of us, never throws any of us away, and never sees any of us as waste. Instead, God’s Word, God’s grace, God’s love is poured out on everyone – the good and the not so good, the smart and the not so smart, the nice and the not so nice. God’s Word, God’s grace is poured out on everyone, no matter if our soil appears to be rich or rocky. We might think that God is being wasteful, but God doesn’t do waste. God is indiscriminate. God is hopeful. God is generous. God’s Word, God’s grace, God’s love is being poured out on all of us.
I remember the summer I did my clinical training at Christ Hospital in Jersey City. Most days in the morning I would walk to the hospital and at the end of the day I’d walk back home. Each way it took about 35 minutes. As many of you know, I love Jersey City, but the truth is it can be a pretty gritty place – lots of concrete and asphalt. Over the course of that summer what I noticed on those walks was how many people took the time and made the effort to plant flowers in front of their houses – sometimes in the little scrap of dirt along the curb. In these little plots of land, in this inhospitable place people “wasted” their time planting and tending gardens. In the midst of cars, trucks and buses there were roses, marigolds and hydrangea. We might think that this was a waste, but obviously, they didn’t think that they were wasting their seed or their time. These were people of hope, not waste. These people believed life and beauty could sprout in the unlikeliest of places.
And so in this parable Jesus tells us the truth that God is busy sowing seeds in the most inhospitable places. God is indiscriminate. God is hopeful. God is generous. God is seemingly wasteful. God is out in the middle of Route 24 planting seeds. Not waste, but hope. Not waste, but love.
Because the truth is, you never know which seeds will flourish. This is a lesson I learned over and over during my teaching years. When you teach gradually you learn it’s hard to tell the good soil from the not so good. I remember in my early years as a teacher I’d get fooled all the time. I’d have students who looked clear-eyed and super attentive, nodding at all my insights, laughing at my jokes. In my mind I’d quickly peg them as the “good students,” the rich soil. And then there were others who seemed to not be paying any attention, fidgeting, doodling, not nodding at my insights, not laughing at my jokes. In my mind I’d quickly peg them as the not so good students, the rocky soil, the waste of my time.
You know where I’m going with this. It didn’t take me too many school years to realize, you never know. Pretty often it was the kids who seemed not into class who ended up doing the best work and the kids who were doing all that nodding and laughing – well, that’s all that they were doing – nodding and laughing.
And of course, we also know that seeds take time to grow - sometimes a really long time. There was an amazing story recently of a 2000 year-old date palm seed discovered in an archaeological dig in Israel that scientists have germinated and have grown into a plant – a date palm tree that they have named Methuselah.
How often in our own lives have we planted seeds that take a long time to bear fruit? Those of you who are parents of young children I’m sure hope that all your care and nurturing will show results long in the future.
I remember one birthday, maybe I was seven or eight, my parents gave me a very nice, illustrated Children’s Bible as a present. I remember being bitterly disappointed. I don’t know what I was hoping for – maybe a Captain Kirk action figure – but it wasn’t a Bible. Sometimes it takes a long time for seeds to bear fruit!
Again as a teacher, there have been a couple of times when a former student has gotten in touch with me to let me know that something I said or did in class had an impact on their lives. There’s no better feeling. And it’s always been a student I would have never expected and sometimes a student I could hardly remember. It’s hard to tell the good soil from the rocky soil. It’s hard to tell the good soil from the rocky soil because it’s not about our talents or intelligence – it’s about how we respond to what God offers to us. How do we respond to God’s word, God’s love, God’s grace that is being poured out on all of us? We choose to be good soil or rocky soil.
And our Old Testament lesson offers a great example of seemingly rocky soil producing great fruit. We’ve been hearing the story of Abraham’s descendants and particularly the story of Jacob – grandson of Abraham, son of Isaac and Rebecca, twin brother of Esau. This is what nowadays we might politely call a dysfunctional family. Jacob in particular is not an especially likable or promising character. Based on these early stories, one wouldn’t look at Jacob and see good soil. In today’s lesson we have the warm and fuzzy family moment of Jacob getting Esau to give up his birthright in exchange for a bowl of lentil stew and a piece of bread. Nice guy, huh? And a couple of Sundays from now we’ll hear the story of Jacob tricking his blind father Isaac into thinking he was Esau and receiving his father’s blessing. To be blunt, Jacob is kind of a fink.
And yet the Bible tells us that the Twelve Tribes of Israel rise out of the seemingly rocky soil of Jacob. God is indiscriminate. God is hopeful. God’s Word, God’s grace, God’s love was poured out on Jacob long ago and is poured out on all of us here today.
In the parable of the sower Jesus tells us something very important about God. God word, God’s grace, God’s love is poured out on all of us. God is seemingly wasteful. God is indiscriminate. God is hopeful.
The question for us is how will we respond to God’s word, God’s love, God’s grace, God’s generosity? Will we say no to God and choose to be rocky soil? Or will we say yes to God and choose to be good soil?
Amen.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
What is Ministry?
The Messenger
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
July 2008
What is Ministry?
Some of you know that in January at the diocesan convention Bishop Beckwith appointed me to the Commission on Ministry. Traditionally the COM has been responsible for dealing with people who believe they are called to ordained ministry as a deacon or priest. The COM does interviews, reads documents, checks on academic progress and ultimately votes on whether they recommend a candidate for ordination. Although certainly this has always been an important job, the focus of the COM has been exclusively on those who feel called to ordained ministry, necessarily ignoring the ministry of lay people.
The Canons of the Episcopal Church are very clear that this focus on ordained ministry is far too narrow. Title III, Canon 1, Section 1 states: Each Diocese shall make provision for the affirmation and development of the ministry of all baptized persons, including: (a) Assistance in understanding that all baptized persons are called to minister in Christ’s name, to identify their gifts with the help of the Church and to serve Christ’s mission at all times and in all places. (b) Assistance in understanding that all baptized persons are called to sustain their ministries through commitment to life-long Christian formation.
At the diocesan convention Bishop Beckwith announced that for a year no new people would be allowed to enter the ordination process so that the COM would have this time for discernment – a chance to figure out how it could move from the old model of focusing only on those in the ordination process to a larger responsibility for supporting the ministry of all baptized persons. It has been an enormous and complicated task. We are more than halfway through the year and much work remains to be done. I’ve half-joked that we could have used a year of discernment before our year of discernment!
In our discussions we realized that we needed to find out how parishioners understand ministry and how they see and do ministry in their lives. Is ministry only doing specifically religious or charitable acts? Or can we be ministers in our daily lives? Can we, in the words of the canon, “serve Christ’s mission at all times and in all places”? Can we be ministers in the office? Can we be ministers on the playground? Can we be ministers in the supermarket?
In order to find out what people thought, each COM member asked a group of people from their own parish two questions: What is ministry? How is ministry done at our church? For my part I got in touch with a number of Grace Church parishioners by email and received some very interesting, thoughtful and sometimes beautiful responses to these questions.
To define ministry a couple of people rightly turned to the dictionary or the prayer book. Others took a crack at offering their own definition. One person wrote, “…I would define ministry as trying to understand and carry out what God would have us do to the best of our ability.” Another person elaborated on the same idea, “I think ministry is serving others using the gifts we have been given as individuals by God. Part of that includes pushing ourselves past our comfort zones – whether that is something like public speaking or giving up attachments to vocation, place or material things. (I don’t think God ever wants us to give up our primary relationships.) And I think it means considering our ministry in the context of prayer, so that we can discern how best God wants us to minister to the world.”
Another person offered a very concise definition: “Ministry is the work we do to serve God and the world.” She viewed ministry as a response to needs – the needs of our church community and a response to the needs of the wider community around us. She also saw ministry as a response to our own personal needs – “our longing and need to serve.” She also asked her young daughter, “What do you think ministry is?” And the girl answered “I think it’s church.”
So, what do you think ministry is? To help all of us answer that question, beginning in September one adult seminar a month will tackle the issue of ministry and how we do ministry here at Grace Church. I will lead the first discussion on September 28 and hope that many of you will be able to attend. In the meantime, take some time this summer to think about your definition of ministry and what kind of ministry you have done in the past and might be open to in the future. In the next issue of The Messenger I’ll write about what parishioners had to say about how we do ministry here at Grace Church.
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
July 2008
What is Ministry?
Some of you know that in January at the diocesan convention Bishop Beckwith appointed me to the Commission on Ministry. Traditionally the COM has been responsible for dealing with people who believe they are called to ordained ministry as a deacon or priest. The COM does interviews, reads documents, checks on academic progress and ultimately votes on whether they recommend a candidate for ordination. Although certainly this has always been an important job, the focus of the COM has been exclusively on those who feel called to ordained ministry, necessarily ignoring the ministry of lay people.
The Canons of the Episcopal Church are very clear that this focus on ordained ministry is far too narrow. Title III, Canon 1, Section 1 states: Each Diocese shall make provision for the affirmation and development of the ministry of all baptized persons, including: (a) Assistance in understanding that all baptized persons are called to minister in Christ’s name, to identify their gifts with the help of the Church and to serve Christ’s mission at all times and in all places. (b) Assistance in understanding that all baptized persons are called to sustain their ministries through commitment to life-long Christian formation.
At the diocesan convention Bishop Beckwith announced that for a year no new people would be allowed to enter the ordination process so that the COM would have this time for discernment – a chance to figure out how it could move from the old model of focusing only on those in the ordination process to a larger responsibility for supporting the ministry of all baptized persons. It has been an enormous and complicated task. We are more than halfway through the year and much work remains to be done. I’ve half-joked that we could have used a year of discernment before our year of discernment!
In our discussions we realized that we needed to find out how parishioners understand ministry and how they see and do ministry in their lives. Is ministry only doing specifically religious or charitable acts? Or can we be ministers in our daily lives? Can we, in the words of the canon, “serve Christ’s mission at all times and in all places”? Can we be ministers in the office? Can we be ministers on the playground? Can we be ministers in the supermarket?
In order to find out what people thought, each COM member asked a group of people from their own parish two questions: What is ministry? How is ministry done at our church? For my part I got in touch with a number of Grace Church parishioners by email and received some very interesting, thoughtful and sometimes beautiful responses to these questions.
To define ministry a couple of people rightly turned to the dictionary or the prayer book. Others took a crack at offering their own definition. One person wrote, “…I would define ministry as trying to understand and carry out what God would have us do to the best of our ability.” Another person elaborated on the same idea, “I think ministry is serving others using the gifts we have been given as individuals by God. Part of that includes pushing ourselves past our comfort zones – whether that is something like public speaking or giving up attachments to vocation, place or material things. (I don’t think God ever wants us to give up our primary relationships.) And I think it means considering our ministry in the context of prayer, so that we can discern how best God wants us to minister to the world.”
Another person offered a very concise definition: “Ministry is the work we do to serve God and the world.” She viewed ministry as a response to needs – the needs of our church community and a response to the needs of the wider community around us. She also saw ministry as a response to our own personal needs – “our longing and need to serve.” She also asked her young daughter, “What do you think ministry is?” And the girl answered “I think it’s church.”
So, what do you think ministry is? To help all of us answer that question, beginning in September one adult seminar a month will tackle the issue of ministry and how we do ministry here at Grace Church. I will lead the first discussion on September 28 and hope that many of you will be able to attend. In the meantime, take some time this summer to think about your definition of ministry and what kind of ministry you have done in the past and might be open to in the future. In the next issue of The Messenger I’ll write about what parishioners had to say about how we do ministry here at Grace Church.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
The Cost
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
June 22, 2008 – The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
Genesis 21:8-21
Psalm 86:1-10, 16-17
(Romans 6:1b-11)
Matthew 10:24-39
The Cost
A New Testament professor at General Seminary has written a book called Jesus’ Family Values. In the book she makes the point that, maybe surprisingly, Jesus does not place a lot of emphasis on the traditional family. Instead, Jesus is more interested in the new family that he was building, the new family that he continues to build – the community of his followers. And especially in the early days, and sometimes even today, becoming a follower of Jesus can come at the cost of a division in the family.
And cost is really what Jesus is talking about in today’s gospel. Jesus is telling his first followers and telling us that following him is going to come at a cost. Sometimes we sentimentalize Jesus as a groovy guy in a robe and sandals, but here’s Jesus saying “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” Sometimes we sentimentalize the Christian life as being happy-clappy, sitting around in a circle singing kumbaya, but here’s Jesus saying “whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.”
This is tough stuff. Sometimes it amazes me that Christianity ever took off. I mean, Jesus really isn’t much of a salesman, is he? Jesus doesn’t sugarcoat what it means to be his follower. Jesus is brutally honest about the costs of following him. And yet we still baptize our children. We still come here week after week. We still call ourselves Christians.
Not much of a salesman Jesus continues his “sales pitch”, “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”
Are we sure we want to sign up for this?
“Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”
With a sales pitch like that, isn’t it amazing that Christianity took off? Isn’t it amazing that anyone chose to follow Jesus? Isn’t it amazing that still people bring their babies to church, bring their babies to be baptized into the Christian life?
Of course, Jesus is not really making a sales pitch. Jesus is simply telling it like it is. If we choose to really follow Jesus there will be a cost. And we’re free - it’s up to us to weigh the cost and the benefit and make our decision.
I bet that lately many of us having been thinking a lot about costs. I joked to someone the other day that it figures that just when I move to the suburbs and have to drive more than ever the price of gas goes through the roof. But it’s no joke that many millions of Americans, including at least some of us here, are starting to have to think very carefully about costs and benefits.
I know that some of you work or have worked in the energy business and in the financial world, so you certainly understand much more about all of this than I do. I would be happy to go back to the old days of paying a dollar for a gallon of gas. But, we’re all facing the fact that oil is a very valuable commodity. And setting aside speculation and all the other machinations of the global market, the bottom line is simply that things of value come at a cost. Oil is becoming increasingly valuable and so it’s going to cost us. There’s seems to be no way around it. There’s no shortcut.
In Jesus, God offers us something very valuable. In Jesus, God offers us the fullness of life. It comes at a cost. Apparently there was no way around the cost even for God. The Cross reminds us that there was no shortcut for Jesus.
Jesus says, “Whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.” Really following Jesus is going to cost us.
The first readers of the Gospel of Matthew understood the cost of following Jesus as they faced persecution from both their Jewish and gentile neighbors. And of course the history of the Church is filled with people who have paid a very high cost for following Jesus. I know at least some of you are familiar with this book, called Lesser Feasts and Fasts. It contains the readings and the prayers for the holy men and women who are commemorated on the Church’s calendar. When I started seminary one of the professors told us that we should get to know the people commemorated in this book – the great men and women who put everything on the line for Jesus. He said that they should become our friends.
One of the very best parts of serving here at Grace is that since we have at least one service everyday we always commemorate these faithful people. And when there’s a Eucharist on those days Lauren or I get to preach about these holy men and women. And so it’s only now that some of these men and women have become my friends – as I’ve thought about the cost that they paid and what that means for us.
And very often at those services we wear red – because we are honoring people who gave their lives for the faith. Just last Wednesday we commemorated Bernard Mizeki, an African Christian teacher who was brutally martyred in what’s today Zimbabwe back in 1896. A few weeks before that we recalled St. Barnabas, an early follower of Jesus, martyred in Cyprus. And back in April we remembered Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the great 20th Century theologian who was executed in a Nazi concentration camp.
Bonhoeffer had a lot to say about the cost of being a follower of Jesus. In his book The Cost of Discipleship he writes about what he calls “costly grace.” He writes “Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock.” And then Bonhoeffer echoes Jesus in today’s gospel when he writes, “Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life.”
So what’s the cost for us? Most of probably are not going to be martyrs, though you never know. But, if our Christian faith isn’t costing us anything, we should probably give that some thought and some prayer.
And a good place to start is the Baptism service. (In a few moments) Elizabeth Mae McManus is going to be baptized into this costly Christian life. Her parents and godparents are going to make some pretty serious promises on her behalf. And all of us are going to promise to support Elizabeth Mae in this costly Christian life. And we are going to renew the promises from our own baptism.
So, what’s the cost for us? Take a look at the middle of page two of the program. Well, for starters, in the Baptismal Covenant there’s the cost of proclaiming by word and example the Good News of God in Christ. If we really do that, it’s going to cost us.
Then there’s the cost of seeking and serving Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself. Also very costly.
And finally there’s striving for justice and peace among all people and respecting the dignity of every human being. Think about what that might cost us.
In today’s gospel Jesus is brutally honest with us. In bold language Jesus warns us that following him is going to cost us. The cost may scare us away. But Jesus also reassures us. Jesus reminds us that we are of great value to God – this God who knows every time a sparrow lands – this God who has counted every hair on our head. This same God who loves us so much that he paid the cost of becoming one of us and paid the cost of dying on the cross..
So that’s the sales pitch. Are we ready to pay the cost? Are we ready to follow Jesus?
Amen.
June 22, 2008 – The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
Genesis 21:8-21
Psalm 86:1-10, 16-17
(Romans 6:1b-11)
Matthew 10:24-39
The Cost
A New Testament professor at General Seminary has written a book called Jesus’ Family Values. In the book she makes the point that, maybe surprisingly, Jesus does not place a lot of emphasis on the traditional family. Instead, Jesus is more interested in the new family that he was building, the new family that he continues to build – the community of his followers. And especially in the early days, and sometimes even today, becoming a follower of Jesus can come at the cost of a division in the family.
And cost is really what Jesus is talking about in today’s gospel. Jesus is telling his first followers and telling us that following him is going to come at a cost. Sometimes we sentimentalize Jesus as a groovy guy in a robe and sandals, but here’s Jesus saying “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” Sometimes we sentimentalize the Christian life as being happy-clappy, sitting around in a circle singing kumbaya, but here’s Jesus saying “whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.”
This is tough stuff. Sometimes it amazes me that Christianity ever took off. I mean, Jesus really isn’t much of a salesman, is he? Jesus doesn’t sugarcoat what it means to be his follower. Jesus is brutally honest about the costs of following him. And yet we still baptize our children. We still come here week after week. We still call ourselves Christians.
Not much of a salesman Jesus continues his “sales pitch”, “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”
Are we sure we want to sign up for this?
“Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”
With a sales pitch like that, isn’t it amazing that Christianity took off? Isn’t it amazing that anyone chose to follow Jesus? Isn’t it amazing that still people bring their babies to church, bring their babies to be baptized into the Christian life?
Of course, Jesus is not really making a sales pitch. Jesus is simply telling it like it is. If we choose to really follow Jesus there will be a cost. And we’re free - it’s up to us to weigh the cost and the benefit and make our decision.
I bet that lately many of us having been thinking a lot about costs. I joked to someone the other day that it figures that just when I move to the suburbs and have to drive more than ever the price of gas goes through the roof. But it’s no joke that many millions of Americans, including at least some of us here, are starting to have to think very carefully about costs and benefits.
I know that some of you work or have worked in the energy business and in the financial world, so you certainly understand much more about all of this than I do. I would be happy to go back to the old days of paying a dollar for a gallon of gas. But, we’re all facing the fact that oil is a very valuable commodity. And setting aside speculation and all the other machinations of the global market, the bottom line is simply that things of value come at a cost. Oil is becoming increasingly valuable and so it’s going to cost us. There’s seems to be no way around it. There’s no shortcut.
In Jesus, God offers us something very valuable. In Jesus, God offers us the fullness of life. It comes at a cost. Apparently there was no way around the cost even for God. The Cross reminds us that there was no shortcut for Jesus.
Jesus says, “Whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.” Really following Jesus is going to cost us.
The first readers of the Gospel of Matthew understood the cost of following Jesus as they faced persecution from both their Jewish and gentile neighbors. And of course the history of the Church is filled with people who have paid a very high cost for following Jesus. I know at least some of you are familiar with this book, called Lesser Feasts and Fasts. It contains the readings and the prayers for the holy men and women who are commemorated on the Church’s calendar. When I started seminary one of the professors told us that we should get to know the people commemorated in this book – the great men and women who put everything on the line for Jesus. He said that they should become our friends.
One of the very best parts of serving here at Grace is that since we have at least one service everyday we always commemorate these faithful people. And when there’s a Eucharist on those days Lauren or I get to preach about these holy men and women. And so it’s only now that some of these men and women have become my friends – as I’ve thought about the cost that they paid and what that means for us.
And very often at those services we wear red – because we are honoring people who gave their lives for the faith. Just last Wednesday we commemorated Bernard Mizeki, an African Christian teacher who was brutally martyred in what’s today Zimbabwe back in 1896. A few weeks before that we recalled St. Barnabas, an early follower of Jesus, martyred in Cyprus. And back in April we remembered Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the great 20th Century theologian who was executed in a Nazi concentration camp.
Bonhoeffer had a lot to say about the cost of being a follower of Jesus. In his book The Cost of Discipleship he writes about what he calls “costly grace.” He writes “Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock.” And then Bonhoeffer echoes Jesus in today’s gospel when he writes, “Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life.”
So what’s the cost for us? Most of probably are not going to be martyrs, though you never know. But, if our Christian faith isn’t costing us anything, we should probably give that some thought and some prayer.
And a good place to start is the Baptism service. (In a few moments) Elizabeth Mae McManus is going to be baptized into this costly Christian life. Her parents and godparents are going to make some pretty serious promises on her behalf. And all of us are going to promise to support Elizabeth Mae in this costly Christian life. And we are going to renew the promises from our own baptism.
So, what’s the cost for us? Take a look at the middle of page two of the program. Well, for starters, in the Baptismal Covenant there’s the cost of proclaiming by word and example the Good News of God in Christ. If we really do that, it’s going to cost us.
Then there’s the cost of seeking and serving Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself. Also very costly.
And finally there’s striving for justice and peace among all people and respecting the dignity of every human being. Think about what that might cost us.
In today’s gospel Jesus is brutally honest with us. In bold language Jesus warns us that following him is going to cost us. The cost may scare us away. But Jesus also reassures us. Jesus reminds us that we are of great value to God – this God who knows every time a sparrow lands – this God who has counted every hair on our head. This same God who loves us so much that he paid the cost of becoming one of us and paid the cost of dying on the cross..
So that’s the sales pitch. Are we ready to pay the cost? Are we ready to follow Jesus?
Amen.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Reflections on Confirmation
The Messenger
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
June 2008
Reflections on Confirmation
I felt a mix of pride and relief when the fourteen young people (along with two adults) from Grace Church were confirmed by Bishop Beckwith at Trinity + St. Philip’s Cathedral back in April. I was proud because these fine young men and women had taken their preparation seriously and relief that everyone was confirmed without any last-minute complications. The service itself was a joyous, even at times raucous, event. Although I know some miss the custom of the bishop confirming our parishioners here at Grace, many of the parents of our confirmands mentioned that they were very moved by the service. In particular it was a great opportunity for all of us to see some of the diversity and breadth of our Diocese of Newark.
Looking back on it, Confirmation class was one of the highlights of my work at Grace so far. We met in the parish library at 7:00 on Sunday evenings, covering the usual topics such as the Scriptures, the sacraments, the Nicene Creed, and Anglicanism. These subjects often led to interesting and wide-ranging comments and questions and gave me a chance to dust off some of my old teaching skills. It was a privilege and a gift to reflect on the major challenges and questions of our Christian faith with this bright and inquisitive group. Before the class began, the confirmands signed a covenant in which they pledged to seek a closer relationship with God and their peers in the group; develop a better understanding of the Episcopal Church; and to reach a personal decision on whether they wanted to confirm their faith. Each of our confirmands certainly took those promises very seriously
The confirmands were all required to attend an overnight diocesan Confirmation retreat. Some of us made the retreat at St. Luke’s in Phillipsburg (and got to see Fr. Tom Mathews in his new home) and the rest attended a retreat at the Church of the Annunciation in Oradell. The retreat began with some icebreaker activities and then some games such as “Confirmation Jeopardy.” We ended the first night with Compline and then it was down to the floor and into our sleeping bags. The next day gave the confirmands a chance to meet Bishop Beckwith as well as attend sessions on various ministries and spiritual practices. The retreat ended with a celebration of the Eucharist. Much like the Confirmation service itself, the retreat gave us a chance to meet other Episcopalians and to appreciate the variety and the complexity of our Church.
The confirmands also had a service requirement. I requested that they perform their service here at Grace Church, specifically helping the Altar Guild, or serving as an usher or an acolyte. On their own initiative, one girl offered to help with Sunday School and two others asked if they could serve in the Parish Office. Some of the confirmands have continued to offer their service although it is no longer required. I am rethinking how to provide service opportunities for next year’s confirmation class. I would be happy to hear suggestions from parishioners.
Confirmation has a long and convoluted history, and today in the Episcopal Church it is sort of an ambiguous sacrament. Some have even called Confirmation “a sacrament in search of a theology.” Many of you will remember the days in the Episcopal Church when only those who had been confirmed were able to receive Communion. One of the key features of the 1979 Book of Common Prayer is the heavy emphasis placed on Baptism. The prayer book recovered the early Christian understanding that Baptism provides full initiation into the Church. In other words, Baptism is in no way “completed” in Confirmation. As Mother Lauren reminds us each Sunday, “All baptized persons are welcome to receive Communion.” But, certainly as long as infant Baptism remains common, the Church will need to provide young people, particularly teenagers, with an opportunity to stand up on their own and affirm their faith. And hopefully Confirmation can also be an opportunity to pray and think deeply about the Christian faith, a chance to grapple with some of the big questions of life, and the start of a mature commitment to Jesus Christ.
We began each of our classes by saying together the Collect for Confirmation. I think it can be a great prayer for all of us, confirmed or not, as we try to live a Christian life of faith and service:
Almighty God, we thank you that by the life, death and resurrection of your Son Jesus Christ you have overcome sin and brought us to yourself, and that by the sealing of your Holy Spirit you have bound us to your service. Renew in us the covenant you made with us at our Baptism. Send us forth in the power of that Spirit to perform the service you set before us; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
June 2008
Reflections on Confirmation
I felt a mix of pride and relief when the fourteen young people (along with two adults) from Grace Church were confirmed by Bishop Beckwith at Trinity + St. Philip’s Cathedral back in April. I was proud because these fine young men and women had taken their preparation seriously and relief that everyone was confirmed without any last-minute complications. The service itself was a joyous, even at times raucous, event. Although I know some miss the custom of the bishop confirming our parishioners here at Grace, many of the parents of our confirmands mentioned that they were very moved by the service. In particular it was a great opportunity for all of us to see some of the diversity and breadth of our Diocese of Newark.
Looking back on it, Confirmation class was one of the highlights of my work at Grace so far. We met in the parish library at 7:00 on Sunday evenings, covering the usual topics such as the Scriptures, the sacraments, the Nicene Creed, and Anglicanism. These subjects often led to interesting and wide-ranging comments and questions and gave me a chance to dust off some of my old teaching skills. It was a privilege and a gift to reflect on the major challenges and questions of our Christian faith with this bright and inquisitive group. Before the class began, the confirmands signed a covenant in which they pledged to seek a closer relationship with God and their peers in the group; develop a better understanding of the Episcopal Church; and to reach a personal decision on whether they wanted to confirm their faith. Each of our confirmands certainly took those promises very seriously
The confirmands were all required to attend an overnight diocesan Confirmation retreat. Some of us made the retreat at St. Luke’s in Phillipsburg (and got to see Fr. Tom Mathews in his new home) and the rest attended a retreat at the Church of the Annunciation in Oradell. The retreat began with some icebreaker activities and then some games such as “Confirmation Jeopardy.” We ended the first night with Compline and then it was down to the floor and into our sleeping bags. The next day gave the confirmands a chance to meet Bishop Beckwith as well as attend sessions on various ministries and spiritual practices. The retreat ended with a celebration of the Eucharist. Much like the Confirmation service itself, the retreat gave us a chance to meet other Episcopalians and to appreciate the variety and the complexity of our Church.
The confirmands also had a service requirement. I requested that they perform their service here at Grace Church, specifically helping the Altar Guild, or serving as an usher or an acolyte. On their own initiative, one girl offered to help with Sunday School and two others asked if they could serve in the Parish Office. Some of the confirmands have continued to offer their service although it is no longer required. I am rethinking how to provide service opportunities for next year’s confirmation class. I would be happy to hear suggestions from parishioners.
Confirmation has a long and convoluted history, and today in the Episcopal Church it is sort of an ambiguous sacrament. Some have even called Confirmation “a sacrament in search of a theology.” Many of you will remember the days in the Episcopal Church when only those who had been confirmed were able to receive Communion. One of the key features of the 1979 Book of Common Prayer is the heavy emphasis placed on Baptism. The prayer book recovered the early Christian understanding that Baptism provides full initiation into the Church. In other words, Baptism is in no way “completed” in Confirmation. As Mother Lauren reminds us each Sunday, “All baptized persons are welcome to receive Communion.” But, certainly as long as infant Baptism remains common, the Church will need to provide young people, particularly teenagers, with an opportunity to stand up on their own and affirm their faith. And hopefully Confirmation can also be an opportunity to pray and think deeply about the Christian faith, a chance to grapple with some of the big questions of life, and the start of a mature commitment to Jesus Christ.
We began each of our classes by saying together the Collect for Confirmation. I think it can be a great prayer for all of us, confirmed or not, as we try to live a Christian life of faith and service:
Almighty God, we thank you that by the life, death and resurrection of your Son Jesus Christ you have overcome sin and brought us to yourself, and that by the sealing of your Holy Spirit you have bound us to your service. Renew in us the covenant you made with us at our Baptism. Send us forth in the power of that Spirit to perform the service you set before us; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.
Two Types of People
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
Year A: The Third Sunday after Pentecost – Proper 4
June 1, 2008
Genesis 6:9-22; 7:24; 8:14-19
Psalm 46
(Romans 1:16-17; 3:22b-31)
Matthew 7:21-29
Two Types of People
Have you ever heard people say “There are two types of people in the world?” Usually it’s said in kind of a joking way such as, “There are two types of people – people who like to drink Pepsi and people who like to drink Coke.” Or, “There are two types of people – people who give gray hair and people who get gray hair.” Or, “There are two types of people – people who see the glass as half full and people who see the glass as half empty.”
Well, in today’s lesson from the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is not joking when he says there are two types of people. There are the people who hear the words of Jesus and act on them – they are like the man who built his house on a rock. They will be able to withstand the inevitable challenges and struggles of life. And then there are the people who hear the words of Jesus but do not act on them – they are like the man who built his house on sand. They will not be able to withstand the inevitable struggles and challenges of life.
And so today, just like Jesus’ first listeners, we’re faced with the crucial question – which type of person are we? Week after week we come to church and we hear the words of Jesus. How do we respond? Do the words of Jesus, do the teachings of Jesus, make any difference in our lives? Which type of person are we?
The lesson we just heard is taken from a pivotal part of Matthew’s gospel. Actually, it comes right at the end of the Sermon on the Mount – the long section of the gospel where Jesus lays out the heart of his teaching. The Sermon on the Mount is so rich and challenging, it’s difficult to summarize. But the pieces of the sermon are familiar to many of us. There are the Beatitudes - where Jesus offers a vision of life in the kingdom of God – a kingdom that has drawn near in Jesus himself.
The Beatitudes are so familiar we may miss just how radical, how unlikely and challenging, they are. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed are those who mourn, blessed are the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.” And then Jesus looks at us and asks, well, what type of person are you? How do you respond to all this? Does it make any difference? Which type of person are you?
In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus talks a lot about the law – and reminds us that he expects and demands better of us than just obeying the letter of the law. We are told we must reconcile with one another; we must love our enemies and those who persecute us; we must not resist evildoers; and we must give to everyone who begs from us.
This is tough stuff. And then Jesus looks at us and asks, well, which type of person are you? How do you respond to all of this? Does it make any difference? Which type of person are you?
Also in the Sermon on the Mount Jesus teaches us how to pray. Jesus instructs us to say to God, “your will be done. Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.” Does it make any difference? Which type of person are you?
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.”
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, “In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the prophets.”
In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus says all this and much more – and then he looks at his audience – looks at us - and asks – so which is it going to be? There are two types of people in the world. Which type of person are you? You’ve heard what I’ve had to say – will you change your life? Or will things continue - business as usual? And Jesus issues a warning that the type of person we choose to be will have important and lasting consequences.
After Jesus issues this challenge and warning, Matthew devotes the next section of his gospel to describing the various miracles performed by Jesus. This is certainly done on purpose. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus has taught with words and now in his miracles and healings, Jesus teaches through actions. All of Jesus’ teaching and healing is to help us decide which type of person we are going to be.
Something else that helps us decide which type of person we are going to be is the example of others who have gone before us – people who are role models of faith. We learn about some of those people in the Bible, we learn about others in history and still others we discover in our own lives.
In today’s Old Testament lesson, we heard the very familiar story of Noah, the ark and the flood. It’s odd that so often we think of this as a children’s story. It’s a really disturbing story isn’t it? The idea of God getting so fed up with humanity that God decides to flood the whole world is pretty terrifying. And in recent years – and even just the past couple of weeks - we’ve been very powerfully and horribly reminded of the destructive power of a great flood.
In a lot of ways, though, the story of the Flood fits in very nicely with Jesus’ challenge to us in the Gospel: which type of person are you going to be?
The whole theme of the early chapters of the Book of Genesis is that God made a good creation and created human beings in God’s image and likeness. Unfortunately – and maybe inevitably – things went terribly wrong as human beings misused their freedom and chose to be the wrong type of people. Human beings chose to rebel against God and tried to run away from God. And human beings became violent with one another.
It’s a long way from God proclaiming the creation good to the line from today’s reading, “Now the earth was corrupt in God’s sight, and the earth was filled with violence.” And so in the story God decides to try again and unleashes this terrible flood.
If on the one hand, the story of the flood is terrible and terrifying, on the other hand it’s also a story of a good man – a righteous man – the type of person who does the will of God. Yes, the flood is the story of God’s anger, but it’s also the story of Noah – the righteous man who walked with God. It’s the story of Noah – the type of person we can choose to be.
I love that phrase from today’s lesson, “Noah walked with God.” Noah walked with God by responding to God’s call and doing the will of God – in his case it was the unlikely and challenging task of building the ark and saving the earth’s creatures. It’s important to point out that just because Noah was righteous didn’t mean that he didn’t have trouble and grief in his life – even after the flood. God never promises a trouble-free life. As Jesus says the storms of life eventually come for all of us. But God does promise to be with us and strengthen us during the inevitable troubles and challenges of life.
So, what would it mean for us here today to “walk with God?” In one way, each of us has to figure out – has to discern – what it means for us to walk with God. In our own lives each of us has to figure out what it means for us to walk with God. The details will be different for each of us. But the bottom line is that for all of us walking with God means choosing to be the type of person who hears the words of Jesus - and acts on them.
Now, God is probably not going to give us a task as unlikely or as challenging as building an ark and saving the creatures of the earth. Then again, plenty of world’s creatures in danger today. You know, maybe God is calling us all to be a little bit like Noah.
And, speaking of unlikely and challenging tasks is there anything more unlikely or challenging than what Jesus teaches in the Sermon on the Mount? Is there anything more unlikely and challenging than being asked to love our enemies, to pray for those who persecute us, to turn the other cheek, to do to others as you would have them to do to you? All pretty unlikely.
And, speaking of unlikely and challenging - is there anything more unlikely or challenging than… blessed are the poor and spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
All very unlikely and very challenging. But this is the teaching offered by Jesus. We are free to accept it or reject it.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus teaches us how to walk with God. And then, once he’s done with his teaching, he looks at us and asks, so which type of person are you. There are two types of people in the world. There are the people who hear Jesus’ words and act on them and there are the people who hear Jesus’ words and do nothing.
There are two types of people in the world. If we haven’t already, it’s time for us to decide which type we are.
Year A: The Third Sunday after Pentecost – Proper 4
June 1, 2008
Genesis 6:9-22; 7:24; 8:14-19
Psalm 46
(Romans 1:16-17; 3:22b-31)
Matthew 7:21-29
Two Types of People
Have you ever heard people say “There are two types of people in the world?” Usually it’s said in kind of a joking way such as, “There are two types of people – people who like to drink Pepsi and people who like to drink Coke.” Or, “There are two types of people – people who give gray hair and people who get gray hair.” Or, “There are two types of people – people who see the glass as half full and people who see the glass as half empty.”
Well, in today’s lesson from the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is not joking when he says there are two types of people. There are the people who hear the words of Jesus and act on them – they are like the man who built his house on a rock. They will be able to withstand the inevitable challenges and struggles of life. And then there are the people who hear the words of Jesus but do not act on them – they are like the man who built his house on sand. They will not be able to withstand the inevitable struggles and challenges of life.
And so today, just like Jesus’ first listeners, we’re faced with the crucial question – which type of person are we? Week after week we come to church and we hear the words of Jesus. How do we respond? Do the words of Jesus, do the teachings of Jesus, make any difference in our lives? Which type of person are we?
The lesson we just heard is taken from a pivotal part of Matthew’s gospel. Actually, it comes right at the end of the Sermon on the Mount – the long section of the gospel where Jesus lays out the heart of his teaching. The Sermon on the Mount is so rich and challenging, it’s difficult to summarize. But the pieces of the sermon are familiar to many of us. There are the Beatitudes - where Jesus offers a vision of life in the kingdom of God – a kingdom that has drawn near in Jesus himself.
The Beatitudes are so familiar we may miss just how radical, how unlikely and challenging, they are. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed are those who mourn, blessed are the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.” And then Jesus looks at us and asks, well, what type of person are you? How do you respond to all this? Does it make any difference? Which type of person are you?
In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus talks a lot about the law – and reminds us that he expects and demands better of us than just obeying the letter of the law. We are told we must reconcile with one another; we must love our enemies and those who persecute us; we must not resist evildoers; and we must give to everyone who begs from us.
This is tough stuff. And then Jesus looks at us and asks, well, which type of person are you? How do you respond to all of this? Does it make any difference? Which type of person are you?
Also in the Sermon on the Mount Jesus teaches us how to pray. Jesus instructs us to say to God, “your will be done. Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.” Does it make any difference? Which type of person are you?
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.”
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, “In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the prophets.”
In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus says all this and much more – and then he looks at his audience – looks at us - and asks – so which is it going to be? There are two types of people in the world. Which type of person are you? You’ve heard what I’ve had to say – will you change your life? Or will things continue - business as usual? And Jesus issues a warning that the type of person we choose to be will have important and lasting consequences.
After Jesus issues this challenge and warning, Matthew devotes the next section of his gospel to describing the various miracles performed by Jesus. This is certainly done on purpose. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus has taught with words and now in his miracles and healings, Jesus teaches through actions. All of Jesus’ teaching and healing is to help us decide which type of person we are going to be.
Something else that helps us decide which type of person we are going to be is the example of others who have gone before us – people who are role models of faith. We learn about some of those people in the Bible, we learn about others in history and still others we discover in our own lives.
In today’s Old Testament lesson, we heard the very familiar story of Noah, the ark and the flood. It’s odd that so often we think of this as a children’s story. It’s a really disturbing story isn’t it? The idea of God getting so fed up with humanity that God decides to flood the whole world is pretty terrifying. And in recent years – and even just the past couple of weeks - we’ve been very powerfully and horribly reminded of the destructive power of a great flood.
In a lot of ways, though, the story of the Flood fits in very nicely with Jesus’ challenge to us in the Gospel: which type of person are you going to be?
The whole theme of the early chapters of the Book of Genesis is that God made a good creation and created human beings in God’s image and likeness. Unfortunately – and maybe inevitably – things went terribly wrong as human beings misused their freedom and chose to be the wrong type of people. Human beings chose to rebel against God and tried to run away from God. And human beings became violent with one another.
It’s a long way from God proclaiming the creation good to the line from today’s reading, “Now the earth was corrupt in God’s sight, and the earth was filled with violence.” And so in the story God decides to try again and unleashes this terrible flood.
If on the one hand, the story of the flood is terrible and terrifying, on the other hand it’s also a story of a good man – a righteous man – the type of person who does the will of God. Yes, the flood is the story of God’s anger, but it’s also the story of Noah – the righteous man who walked with God. It’s the story of Noah – the type of person we can choose to be.
I love that phrase from today’s lesson, “Noah walked with God.” Noah walked with God by responding to God’s call and doing the will of God – in his case it was the unlikely and challenging task of building the ark and saving the earth’s creatures. It’s important to point out that just because Noah was righteous didn’t mean that he didn’t have trouble and grief in his life – even after the flood. God never promises a trouble-free life. As Jesus says the storms of life eventually come for all of us. But God does promise to be with us and strengthen us during the inevitable troubles and challenges of life.
So, what would it mean for us here today to “walk with God?” In one way, each of us has to figure out – has to discern – what it means for us to walk with God. In our own lives each of us has to figure out what it means for us to walk with God. The details will be different for each of us. But the bottom line is that for all of us walking with God means choosing to be the type of person who hears the words of Jesus - and acts on them.
Now, God is probably not going to give us a task as unlikely or as challenging as building an ark and saving the creatures of the earth. Then again, plenty of world’s creatures in danger today. You know, maybe God is calling us all to be a little bit like Noah.
And, speaking of unlikely and challenging tasks is there anything more unlikely or challenging than what Jesus teaches in the Sermon on the Mount? Is there anything more unlikely and challenging than being asked to love our enemies, to pray for those who persecute us, to turn the other cheek, to do to others as you would have them to do to you? All pretty unlikely.
And, speaking of unlikely and challenging - is there anything more unlikely or challenging than… blessed are the poor and spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
All very unlikely and very challenging. But this is the teaching offered by Jesus. We are free to accept it or reject it.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus teaches us how to walk with God. And then, once he’s done with his teaching, he looks at us and asks, so which type of person are you. There are two types of people in the world. There are the people who hear Jesus’ words and act on them and there are the people who hear Jesus’ words and do nothing.
There are two types of people in the world. If we haven’t already, it’s time for us to decide which type we are.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Eulogy for the Rev. Francis W. Carr
St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ
May 27, 2008
Eulogy for the Rev. Francis W. Carr (1925-2008)
Frank Carr is one of the major reasons why I am a priest today. Throughout my journey to ordination his friendship, encouragement, love and prayers were a huge support for me. But the greatest gift he gave me is a simple definition of what it means to be a Christian. He used to say, to be a Christian means living a life of love, forgiveness and service. Love, forgiveness and service – simple, beautiful and quite a challenge for all of us.
So, where to begin? Well, I can say at least one thing for sure – Fr. Carr is loving this service! He is thrilled to have his beloved St. Paul’s filled with his family and friends and members of the congregation. I am sure he’s been singing along with us in heaven, with that big, booming voice of his. Yes, Fr. Carr is loving this service just as he loved so many services in his long life and his long priesthood.
Actually, he had been to a couple of really good services in recent months. He happily told me how beautiful Easter was at St. Paul’s this year – one of the best he could remember, he said. He loved that the children were able to play such a big part in the service. And many times he told me how much he enjoyed John Negrotto’s preaching. And back in December I was so happy that he was able to come out to Grace Church in Madison to be at my ordination to the priesthood and to serve as one of my presenters. After the ordination he pulled me close said, “It was magnificent. I didn’t want it to end.”
And, you know, that’s how I feel about his remarkable life. “It was magnificent. I didn’t want it to end.”
I wish I had known Frank Carr in his prime. The man I knew was already shrouded in blindness and burdened with a great deal of physical pain. And, of course, there was a deep loneliness and sorrow after the death of his beloved wife, Lee. Yet, as I heard the stories over many wonderful afternoons across the street in his apartment – usually with a glass of Harvey’s Bristol Cream and a delicious lunch prepared by Jane – as I heard the stories I came to realize that this man had lived a magnificent life of adventure, a life of boldness, a life in service to Jesus Christ.
Despite the Great Depression, his childhood in Boston seemed to have been normal and happy. But then, like so many of his generation, he was caught up in World War II and ended up serving in the Pacific. It’s interesting to me, although he told me many stories and some were repeated often, he never went into any detail about his wartime experiences. Once or twice he said, “Someday I’ll tell you about the war.” But, he never did. So, I can only imagine the horrors that he witnessed – humanity at its worst.
And yet somehow out of that crucible of war came a deep sense of call to the priesthood. And, as might be expected, this New Englander stayed close to home, attending Berkeley Divinity School in New Haven. But then Frank’s story takes an unexpected turn. Bishop Daniels of Montana visited the seminary and asked the priests-in-training, “Will you go on an adventure for Christ? Will you come to Montana?” And only one said yes - Frank Carr. Each time I heard that story it amazed me. Montana was a long way from all of his family and friends. And to hear Fr. Carr tell it, Montana in the 1950s was still a lot like the Wild West. There were lots of guns around and there were saloons where the young priest was told he should not enter. There wasn’t another Episcopal priest for many miles. And yet this unlikely and wild place is where he chose to begin ordained ministry.
From Montana it was on to Washington State and then to St. Alban’s in the Westwood section of Los Angeles. (When I think of Frank’s ministry, I always picture him on a journey circling the country.) Movie stars went to St. Alban’s, and Fr. Carr spoke warmly of people such as Fred Astaire and Spencer Tracey. In one of my favorite stories, one time Fr. Carr was greeting people after a service and as a woman approached him, he said “Your face is so familiar, have we met before?” And the woman looked at him kindly and said, “I don’t believe so. My name is Olivia DeHavilland.” Forty plus years later he was still embarrassed not to have recognized one of the famous faces of the day.
It was in L.A. where Frank met the love of his life, Florence Lee Anderson. In his telling, at least, they seemed to have hit it off instantly and she soon signed on for the life of a priest’s wife – a life sharing and supporting his ministry - and a life living in places not of her choosing…
Such as Texas – which was the next stop. Fr. Carr was busy in Texas, building three churches, including St. Mark’s in Arlington which he started in a living room and is today one of the largest churches in the Diocese of Ft. Worth. However, living in Texas in the 1960s meant taking sides in the great issue of the day – the civil rights movement. To his eternal credit, this Yankee from Boston stood up for equality, marching and speaking out for desegregation and decency. But, that courageous choice came at the cost of late-night threatening phone calls that remained forever vivid in his memory.
Those threats against him and his young family finally led to one last, unlikely stop – right here at St. Paul’s in Jersey City, 1969.
He often said that his ministry here in the city was the most satisfying of all. And what a time to be in the city! What a time of dramatic change and conflict – a time when the old Jersey City was dying and something new and different was about to be born. And Frank and Lee – and their children Leslie and Bruce – were in the thick of it.
He was proudest of his long service to Christ Hospital and starting the summer program for neighborhood children – a program that over the years provided a safe, fun and nurturing place for hundreds of kids during those steaming and dangerous summers of the ‘70s and ‘80s.
He was also very proud of the good relations he had with clergy from other denominations. For many years whenever a new priest or minister arrived in Jersey City they received an invitation to dinner with Frank and Lee next door at the rectory. I’m told that Lee was a phenomenal cook – so I’m sure this hospitality and delicious food went along way to create warm friendship among the clergy.
It was a time of great change in Jersey City and it was also a time of great change in the Episcopal Church. Frank admitted to me that he had opposed women’s ordination, but after meeting so many superb women priests he had come to realize that he had been wrong. He and I disagreed about the current controversies in the church, but he always listened to me and grudgingly admitted when he thought I had made a good point.
There is a story that Fr. Carr told often – it was important to him and I believe it sheds so much light on Frank’s faith and character. He and a certain bishop were having a disagreement about something and, as Frank remembered it, in the heat of the argument the bishop said, “Frank, you’re worthless!” And Frank responded “No, you’re wrong. I’m not worthless. I’m made in the image and likeness of God and redeemed by Jesus Christ. I’m not worthless.”
It’s an important story because Fr. Carr recognized his own worth and in my experience he recognized the worth of all people as children of God redeemed by Jesus Christ. And I think the richness of his ministry was a result of treating people with the understanding that they have great worth.
Now, of course, he wasn’t perfect – he could get angry and frustrated – and when he yelled with that big voice you wanted to get away as fast as possible! But, on the whole, he treated all people as beloved children of God. And throughout his long journey around the country from Boston to Montana to Washington to Los Angeles to Texas and to Jersey City, over and over his life of love, forgiveness and service touched people’s lives. And in return people continued to keep in touch with him for many, many years. Sometimes when he felt down, I would remind him of this vast network of people all across the country who cared deeply about him.
A couple of Decembers ago I had a wonderful encounter with this vast network of love. I was visiting him over in the apartment and he asked if I would go downstairs and get his mail for him. When I got his mailbox open, there was so much mail wedged in there, I had trouble getting it out. This was one day’s worth of mail. I saw that along with the usual bills and junk there were about two dozen Christmas cards. When I got back upstairs, he asked if I would read the cards to him. As I read card after card, it was an incredibly moving experience to realize how much he was loved by so many. And today it makes me aware of how many people all across the country will be mourning this great man, this faithful priest, this good friend.
Frank Carr lived his magnificent, adventurous life as a faithful Christian. He lived a life of love, forgiveness and service. He recognized his own worth and he recognized the worth of others. You and I can remember Fr. Carr and honor him best by treating one another as beloved children of God and living lives of love, forgiveness and service.
May 27, 2008
Eulogy for the Rev. Francis W. Carr (1925-2008)
Frank Carr is one of the major reasons why I am a priest today. Throughout my journey to ordination his friendship, encouragement, love and prayers were a huge support for me. But the greatest gift he gave me is a simple definition of what it means to be a Christian. He used to say, to be a Christian means living a life of love, forgiveness and service. Love, forgiveness and service – simple, beautiful and quite a challenge for all of us.
So, where to begin? Well, I can say at least one thing for sure – Fr. Carr is loving this service! He is thrilled to have his beloved St. Paul’s filled with his family and friends and members of the congregation. I am sure he’s been singing along with us in heaven, with that big, booming voice of his. Yes, Fr. Carr is loving this service just as he loved so many services in his long life and his long priesthood.
Actually, he had been to a couple of really good services in recent months. He happily told me how beautiful Easter was at St. Paul’s this year – one of the best he could remember, he said. He loved that the children were able to play such a big part in the service. And many times he told me how much he enjoyed John Negrotto’s preaching. And back in December I was so happy that he was able to come out to Grace Church in Madison to be at my ordination to the priesthood and to serve as one of my presenters. After the ordination he pulled me close said, “It was magnificent. I didn’t want it to end.”
And, you know, that’s how I feel about his remarkable life. “It was magnificent. I didn’t want it to end.”
I wish I had known Frank Carr in his prime. The man I knew was already shrouded in blindness and burdened with a great deal of physical pain. And, of course, there was a deep loneliness and sorrow after the death of his beloved wife, Lee. Yet, as I heard the stories over many wonderful afternoons across the street in his apartment – usually with a glass of Harvey’s Bristol Cream and a delicious lunch prepared by Jane – as I heard the stories I came to realize that this man had lived a magnificent life of adventure, a life of boldness, a life in service to Jesus Christ.
Despite the Great Depression, his childhood in Boston seemed to have been normal and happy. But then, like so many of his generation, he was caught up in World War II and ended up serving in the Pacific. It’s interesting to me, although he told me many stories and some were repeated often, he never went into any detail about his wartime experiences. Once or twice he said, “Someday I’ll tell you about the war.” But, he never did. So, I can only imagine the horrors that he witnessed – humanity at its worst.
And yet somehow out of that crucible of war came a deep sense of call to the priesthood. And, as might be expected, this New Englander stayed close to home, attending Berkeley Divinity School in New Haven. But then Frank’s story takes an unexpected turn. Bishop Daniels of Montana visited the seminary and asked the priests-in-training, “Will you go on an adventure for Christ? Will you come to Montana?” And only one said yes - Frank Carr. Each time I heard that story it amazed me. Montana was a long way from all of his family and friends. And to hear Fr. Carr tell it, Montana in the 1950s was still a lot like the Wild West. There were lots of guns around and there were saloons where the young priest was told he should not enter. There wasn’t another Episcopal priest for many miles. And yet this unlikely and wild place is where he chose to begin ordained ministry.
From Montana it was on to Washington State and then to St. Alban’s in the Westwood section of Los Angeles. (When I think of Frank’s ministry, I always picture him on a journey circling the country.) Movie stars went to St. Alban’s, and Fr. Carr spoke warmly of people such as Fred Astaire and Spencer Tracey. In one of my favorite stories, one time Fr. Carr was greeting people after a service and as a woman approached him, he said “Your face is so familiar, have we met before?” And the woman looked at him kindly and said, “I don’t believe so. My name is Olivia DeHavilland.” Forty plus years later he was still embarrassed not to have recognized one of the famous faces of the day.
It was in L.A. where Frank met the love of his life, Florence Lee Anderson. In his telling, at least, they seemed to have hit it off instantly and she soon signed on for the life of a priest’s wife – a life sharing and supporting his ministry - and a life living in places not of her choosing…
Such as Texas – which was the next stop. Fr. Carr was busy in Texas, building three churches, including St. Mark’s in Arlington which he started in a living room and is today one of the largest churches in the Diocese of Ft. Worth. However, living in Texas in the 1960s meant taking sides in the great issue of the day – the civil rights movement. To his eternal credit, this Yankee from Boston stood up for equality, marching and speaking out for desegregation and decency. But, that courageous choice came at the cost of late-night threatening phone calls that remained forever vivid in his memory.
Those threats against him and his young family finally led to one last, unlikely stop – right here at St. Paul’s in Jersey City, 1969.
He often said that his ministry here in the city was the most satisfying of all. And what a time to be in the city! What a time of dramatic change and conflict – a time when the old Jersey City was dying and something new and different was about to be born. And Frank and Lee – and their children Leslie and Bruce – were in the thick of it.
He was proudest of his long service to Christ Hospital and starting the summer program for neighborhood children – a program that over the years provided a safe, fun and nurturing place for hundreds of kids during those steaming and dangerous summers of the ‘70s and ‘80s.
He was also very proud of the good relations he had with clergy from other denominations. For many years whenever a new priest or minister arrived in Jersey City they received an invitation to dinner with Frank and Lee next door at the rectory. I’m told that Lee was a phenomenal cook – so I’m sure this hospitality and delicious food went along way to create warm friendship among the clergy.
It was a time of great change in Jersey City and it was also a time of great change in the Episcopal Church. Frank admitted to me that he had opposed women’s ordination, but after meeting so many superb women priests he had come to realize that he had been wrong. He and I disagreed about the current controversies in the church, but he always listened to me and grudgingly admitted when he thought I had made a good point.
There is a story that Fr. Carr told often – it was important to him and I believe it sheds so much light on Frank’s faith and character. He and a certain bishop were having a disagreement about something and, as Frank remembered it, in the heat of the argument the bishop said, “Frank, you’re worthless!” And Frank responded “No, you’re wrong. I’m not worthless. I’m made in the image and likeness of God and redeemed by Jesus Christ. I’m not worthless.”
It’s an important story because Fr. Carr recognized his own worth and in my experience he recognized the worth of all people as children of God redeemed by Jesus Christ. And I think the richness of his ministry was a result of treating people with the understanding that they have great worth.
Now, of course, he wasn’t perfect – he could get angry and frustrated – and when he yelled with that big voice you wanted to get away as fast as possible! But, on the whole, he treated all people as beloved children of God. And throughout his long journey around the country from Boston to Montana to Washington to Los Angeles to Texas and to Jersey City, over and over his life of love, forgiveness and service touched people’s lives. And in return people continued to keep in touch with him for many, many years. Sometimes when he felt down, I would remind him of this vast network of people all across the country who cared deeply about him.
A couple of Decembers ago I had a wonderful encounter with this vast network of love. I was visiting him over in the apartment and he asked if I would go downstairs and get his mail for him. When I got his mailbox open, there was so much mail wedged in there, I had trouble getting it out. This was one day’s worth of mail. I saw that along with the usual bills and junk there were about two dozen Christmas cards. When I got back upstairs, he asked if I would read the cards to him. As I read card after card, it was an incredibly moving experience to realize how much he was loved by so many. And today it makes me aware of how many people all across the country will be mourning this great man, this faithful priest, this good friend.
Frank Carr lived his magnificent, adventurous life as a faithful Christian. He lived a life of love, forgiveness and service. He recognized his own worth and he recognized the worth of others. You and I can remember Fr. Carr and honor him best by treating one another as beloved children of God and living lives of love, forgiveness and service.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
The Trinity: God is Relationship
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
May 18, 2008
Year A: The First Sunday after Pentecost (Trinity Sunday)
(Genesis 1:1-2:4a)
2 Corinthians 13:11-13
Matthew 28:16-20
Psalm 8
May 18, 2008
Year A: The First Sunday after Pentecost (Trinity Sunday)
(Genesis 1:1-2:4a)
2 Corinthians 13:11-13
Matthew 28:16-20
Psalm 8
The Trinity: God is Relationship
Well, today is Trinity Sunday. It’s the one Sunday each year when we try to focus on the Trinity - our understanding of one God in three Persons – Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I don’t need to tell you that the Trinity is a great and profound mystery. It is notoriously difficult to wrap our minds around the idea of the Trinity – just how can God be both one and three at the same time? It’s a running joke in the church that since the Trinity is such a challenging concept, it’s very common for the rector to graciously pass on the opportunity to preach on the Trinity, generously giving their pulpit to the curate, or the seminarian, or anybody they can find. Now, I know what you’re thinking, so for Lauren’s sake I want to state for the record that I volunteered for this duty.
All kidding aside, the Trinity really is a deep and profound mystery – and it is challenging to talk about and definitely challenging to preach about. Of course the great mysteriousness of the Trinity hasn’t stopped theologians and church leaders from arguing over the meaning of the Trinity and how these three divine Persons – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit - interact among themselves and interact with us. The Nicene Creed that we say each week was an attempt to get Christians on the same page about what the early church had come to believe about this one God in three Persons. The creed is helpful, maybe, but it certainly doesn’t explain the profound mystery of the Trinity.
So, what to make of the Trinity? There’s a famous old story of the great Church Father, St. Augustine, one day walking along the beach contemplating the Trinity. Up ahead he saw a little boy digging a hole in the sand. The boy then ran out into the waves, scooped up a bucket of water, and ran back to pour it into the hole. He did this a few times until finally Augustine approached him and asked, “Boy, what are you doing?” “See that ocean out there?” the boy asked. “I’m going to pour that ocean into this hole.” “That’s impossible,” said Augustine. “You cannot fit the ocean in that tiny hole.” The boy looked up at him and replied, “And neither can you, Augustine, fit the Trinity in that tiny brain.” The story goes on to say that the boy then disappeared, as apparently he was an angel.
But, just because Augustine and we will never understand how one God can be in three Persons doesn’t mean that we should stop using our tiny brains to wrestle with and reflect on the Trinity. Just the opposite! After all, even though we know we’ll never understand it, what could be more important than reflecting on the nature of God?
And this morning as we celebrate Trinity Sunday and we celebrate a baptism we have the perfect opportunity to reflect on the nature of God. As I’ve prayed about and reflected on the Trinity I’ve come up with two points. First, if we really reflect on the Trinity we realize that God in Three Persons is a perfect, loving relationship. God is love, but God is not just love. After all, what is love without an other, or others? Not much at all. No, God is not just love – God is not just love sort of floating around out there. The Trinity reveals that God’s very essence is a perfect relationship of love. God is relationship. This is who God really is – a perfect relationship of love. The relationship is perfect so as Jesus says in today’s gospel, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” There is no division in the relationship among Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
Some of the early Christian theologians described the relationship among Father, Son and Holy Spirit as perichoresis - an eternal dance of love. In seminary my Church History professor actually acted out the dance with two of my classmates – which made me laugh, and made me glad I wasn’t picked, but also helped me to remember this powerful image of Father, Son and Holy Spirit dancing away for eternity.
My second point is that the amazingly Good News for us is that in Jesus Christ and with the guidance of the Holy Spirit we are invited to participate in God’s eternal relationship of love. We are invited to participate in God’s eternal loving dance.
The whole sweep of Scripture tells the story of God reaching out to men and women – trying over and over to build a relationship with us. This morning’s lesson from Genesis tells the familiar story of creation. Because it’s so familiar we might miss the crucial point that God could have created only things – unthinking objects. Instead, because God wants to be in relationship, God created us – thinking, feeling, and free creatures. Free to accept the offer of relationship with God or free to reject the offer of relationship with God. From the tragic image of God searching the garden for Adam and Eve who are hiding in shame to God becoming human in Jesus, over and over God has invited us into relationship.
How we respond to that invitation is the big question of our lives. I probably don’t need to tell you that often we get ourselves into trouble when we try to fill our need for relationship with God by desiring lesser things. How often do we try to fill our need for God’s love by turning to material things? If I just have …. then I’ll be happy. Never seems to work, does it?
Instead, we are invited to open our hearts and allow God to build a relationship with us. And hopefully we respond to God’s invitation by building loving relationships with one another. It seems to me that relationships of love are what the Trinity is all about and loving relationships are what we as Christians should be about. We are made to be in relationship with God and with one another. One of the most moving things about being with Constance in the last weeks of her life was recognizing the many close relationships she had built with so many people. We are made to be in relationship with God and one another.
And it turns out that science is revealing what Scripture has told us all along – it is relationships that make us truly happy. A few weeks ago there was interview in the New York Times with a Harvard social psychologist named Daniel Gilbert, who wrote a book called Stumbling on Happiness. In the interview Professor Gilbert said:
“We know the best predictor of human happiness is human relationships and the amount of time that people spend with family and friends. We know that it’s significantly more important than money and somewhat more important than health. That’s what the data shows. The interesting thing is that people will sacrifice social relationships to get other things that won’t make them happy – money. That’s what I mean when I say people should do “wise shopping” for happiness.”
I like that expression – “wise shopping for happiness.” We do “wise shopping for happiness” when we deepen our relationships with one another and when we allow God- Father, Son and Holy Spirit - to be in relationship with us. We were made to have these relationships.
And, of course, we are about to witness some “wise shopping for happiness” in this morning’s baptism. In baptism God forges a bond with us – makes a relationship with us – that can never be broken – no matter what we do or don’t do. In baptism, our relationship with God can’t be broken. As Jesus says in today’s gospel reading, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
Like St. Augustine on the beach, in this life we will never understand the Trinity. But, we know enough for now. As we reflect on one God in three Persons we realize that God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, is a perfect relationship of love. God is relationship. And the Good News of Scripture - the Good News of Jesus Christ – the good news of baptism - is that all of us are invited to be in a relationship with God. All of us are invited to the dance.
Like St. Augustine on the beach, in this life we will never understand the Trinity. But, we know enough for now. As we reflect on one God in three Persons we realize that God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, is a perfect relationship of love. God is relationship. And the Good News of Scripture - the Good News of Jesus Christ – the good news of baptism - is that all of us are invited to be in a relationship with God. All of us are invited to the dance.
Amen.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Thin Places
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
May 4, 2008
The Seventh Sunday of Easter: The Sunday after Ascension Day
Acts 1:6-14
Psalm 68:1-10, 33-36
(1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11)
John 17:1-11
Thin Places
May 4, 2008
The Seventh Sunday of Easter: The Sunday after Ascension Day
Acts 1:6-14
Psalm 68:1-10, 33-36
(1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11)
John 17:1-11
Thin Places
Well, Holy Week is past. Easter Sunday is past. The bishop’s visit has come and gone. We’re done with the groundbreaking. And everybody who was supposed to be confirmed was confirmed. And I’ve noticed that things are starting to slow down around here at Grace Church. And as things are starting to slow down, I’ve begun to think about the J2A pilgrimage to Northern California this summer. For a little more than a week we’ll be visiting the various Spanish missions along the coast – retracing the steps of those adventurous missionaries who brought the Gospel to that beautiful land. It should be a wonderful trip and I’m starting to really look forward to it.
Actually, I’ve never really been on a pilgrimage before. Sure, I’ve visited places where pilgrims go; I’ve been fortunate enough to go to Rome and to Canterbury. A couple of years ago Sue and I were in London and I dragged her around to all these sites connected to Anglican history. It was just before I started seminary and since I didn’t have to write papers about them yet, I was enthused about Anglican theologians like Richard Hooker, who lived back in the 16th Century.
One of the places we went was the Temple Church, an ancient church where Richard Hooker had served as rector. When we first got there it wasn’t open yet so Sue and I went and had coffee. When we got back to the church even I was surprised to see a line of about twenty people waiting to get in. I smugly said to Sue, “See, I’m not the only one. Look at all these people who are interested in Richard Hooker!” She looked at me skeptically but made no comment. Inside, I noticed that these “pilgrims” were spending most of their time staring intently at and taking pictures of the graves of medieval knights. I couldn’t help eavesdropping on their conversations and I heard a few of them say “DaVinci Code.” These people were not there for Richard Hooker. No, they were there because they were fans of The DaVinci Code. It turns out that a scene in that bestselling book takes place in the Temple Church. Sue had been right to be skeptical.
Oh, well. People make pilgrimages for all sorts of reasons. Thousands of people visit Graceland every year because they love Elvis. People visit the Temple Church because they admire Richard Hooker – or because they enjoyed The DaVinci Code. But why do we make religious pilgrimages? I mean, God can be found in Madison. God can even be found in Florham Park or Chatham. So why would we feel the need to actually visit Jerusalem, Rome, Canterbury or Northern California? Why would we make these trips? What do we hope to find? What do we hope to experience?
In Celtic Christianity there is the idea of “thin places.” Have you ever heard of that? It’s this very beautiful idea that there are places or events in life where the dividing line between the holy and the ordinary is very thin – so thin that the ordinary becomes holy and the holy becomes ordinary.
We go on pilgrimages because we hope to find “thin places.” We hope to find places - we hope to have experiences - where there is very little separating the holy and the ordinary.
And today’s lessons are really about thin places, aren’t they? In the lesson from the Gospel of John, we have a part of what’s known as Jesus’ high priestly prayer just before his arrest and crucifixion. Don’t worry if you had trouble following this convoluted passage. If we read this passage carefully we realize that John is struggling to describe Jesus as being both on earth and in heaven at the same time. He’s describing Jesus in a thin place.
Take a look at it again. John begins his account by writing, “Jesus looked up to heaven and said…” Seems like an ordinary start of a prayer. But we quickly realize that Jesus is in a thin place. The dividing line between the holy and the ordinary gets very thin. Jesus says:
“I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do. So now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.” Jesus is still physically on earth but John is describing the break down in the barrier between heaven and earth, between the holy and the ordinary.
And finally, the passage ends with Jesus saying, “And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.”
In this passage Jesus is in a thin place – the barrier between the holy and the ordinary has become very, very thin indeed.
Our other lesson of course is the account of the Ascension in the Acts of the Apostles. The idea of Jesus ascending into heaven is a tough one for a lot of people to believe. The problem, of course, is that we have a much different understanding of how the universe works than people who lived a couple of thousand years ago. As Lauren mentioned in her homily on Ascension Day there are some people in the church who just dismiss the Ascension as absurd, as impossible, and think we should delete it from the list of things that we say we believe.
But to reject the Ascension as myth or fairy tale would be a huge loss and is really missing the point. The experience of Jesus and the apostles on the mountain that day was a very profound thin place. Talk about the barriers between the holy and the ordinary breaking down! Jesus’ body – which had been a normal human body like yours and mine, was first transformed in the Resurrection. Remember the post-resurrection stories? Remember how the evangelists try so hard to make clear that the resurrected Jesus was not a ghost or a spirit but was a physical presence? Remember how Jesus was the same but different? Remember the disciples on the road to Emmaus who at first don’t recognize him but then they do when Jesus breaks the bread? Remember poor Thomas being invited to touch the wounds?
And now in the Ascension, somehow, in some equally mysterious way, Jesus’ transformed, resurrected body passes through the barrier separating heaven and earth. At the Ascension the thin place becomes very thin indeed.
After this profound experience the disciples are left staring into the sky – yearning for Jesus, yearning for the holy.
And the truth is we are made to yearn for the holy. We yearn for the thin place. We try to satisfy that yearning with all sorts of other stuff, but really all that truly satisfies us is the experience of the holy – the experience of the thin place – the place or the experience where the barrier between the holy and the ordinary becomes so thin. And that’s why we do things like make pilgrimages. And if we find a thin place in Rome or Canterbury or Northern California, that is certainly wonderful. I suspect, though, that we find thin places in Rome, Canterbury or Northern California because on pilgrimages we are particularly mindful and open. On a pilgrimage we are really paying attention, really looking, really seeking. On a pilgrimage we sort of expect, or at least hope, to find a thin place.
But I believe that if we brought that same attitude of mindfulness and openness to our daily lives we would find thin places all the time. And if we reflect on our lives, I believe we would find that we were in thin places and we might not even have realized it. We need to lead our whole lives as a pilgrimage – seeking out, watching for the thin places all around us.
Often we experience thin places at the big moments of life – like births and deaths. And if you think about it, it’s at those big moments when we are really focused on what’s really important.
But we can experience thin places in seemingly small moments too – delivering a bed or a dresser or a microwave oven to a person in need; planting flowers with a child; preparing a casserole for a family touched by illness; visiting someone in the hospital or nursing home; singing or playing a musical instrument; or even simply sharing a meal and having a conversation. We can experience all of these as thin places - if we pay attention.
We are in the midst of a very thin place right here at church today. Now, we might not always experience church as a thin place because we’re distracted or tired or inattentive or stressed out, but when we worship the fact is heaven and earth draw very close to one another.
Just as Jesus crosses the barrier between earth and heaven in his high priestly prayer and in his ascension, so too we cross the barrier between heaven and earth when we join our voices with “angels and archangels and the whole company of heaven” who forever sing their praises to God. Here in church the barrier between heaven and earth, between the holy and the ordinary becomes a very thin space indeed!
Finally, there is the thin place of the Eucharist itself. Could there be anything more ordinary – or thinner, for that matter – than this simple, virtually tasteless wafer? Yet in the thin place of the Eucharist the holy and the ordinary truly become one.
Today’s lessons offer us glimpses of two thin places as Jesus crosses the barrier between the holy and the ordinary, between heaven and earth. As we make our pilgrimage here on earth, let’s keep an eye out for thin places – the places or events in life where the dividing line between the holy and the ordinary is very thin – so thin that the ordinary becomes holy and the holy becomes ordinary.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
A Groundbreaking Snapshot
The Messenger
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
May 2008
A Groundbreaking Snapshot
When I was praying and thinking about my sermon for Sunday, April 13, I found myself looking ahead to the following Sunday when Bishop Beckwith would make his visit and would celebrate with us the groundbreaking of the new parish hall. In my sermon I predicted that the bishop’s visit and the groundbreaking would offer us a “snapshot” of what the Church hopes to be and what the Church really is – the Body of Christ on earth. I have a decidedly shaky track record when it comes to predicting the future, but this is one time when I was right on the money.
I can only imagine what the day felt like for the many of you who have lived through the long years of discussion and planning that led to the turning of the first shovelfuls of soil. I know, of course, that some in our community have had serious reservations about the project. There have been concerns about the expense and doubts about the need. Some parishioners have criticized the discernment process that led to the decision to build a new parish hall. On the other hand, many other parishioners have been enthusiastic and generous supporters of this project from the start. This lack of agreement should be unsurprising. Frankly, it would be highly unusual if there were unanimity in a parish this size about a project this significant.
I found it very moving that most of the parish, regardless of varying personal views, came together to welcome the bishop and to celebrate this milestone in the history of Grace Church. Although the weather was not as bright and sunny as we might have hoped, the day still provided a beautiful snapshot of Grace Church at its best. I am still amazed by the amount of care and effort that goes into planning all of our services, and especially major events such as the bishop’s visit. Nina Nicholson crafted the program and the Grace Notes with her usual keen eye for style and accuracy. Anne Matlack somehow juggled choir members’ schedules and prepared the choirs to produce beautiful music that was thoughtfully-chosen for the occasion. Mary Lea Crawley did her typically sensitive and creative work with our children, giving them a tour of the future construction site and making sure they were equipped to be an important part of the groundbreaking. Despite the mystery of just how many people would show up, Midge Cassidy pulled together a very fine reception. And, of course, Lauren Ackland was, as usual, the calm (at least on the outside) center of the storm. As I told a few people that morning, this was one of the many days at Grace when I was glad to not be the one in charge! This great day was not without its errors and glitches, but overall it offered a beautiful snapshot of Grace Church at its best – a joyful place where God is worshipped and glorified.
And then in the afternoon a good number of us went to Trinity + St. Philip’s Cathedral for Confirmation which, like the bishop’s visit to Grace, was a powerful reminder that we are part of a larger Church. Gathering together Episcopalians from the city and the suburbs in our cathedral offered us another beautiful snapshot of the Church being what it really is – the Body of Christ on earth.
One of the highlights of this long, full day was the adult seminar led by Bishop Beckwith before the 10:00AM service. The bishop shared with us his compelling vision for the Diocese of Newark – a vision of all of us standing with the Living Christ at the “Gates of Hope.” Although I had first heard the bishop outline this vision at our clergy conference in October and later at the diocesan convention in January, there was something particularly powerful about hearing him describe his vision right here at Grace Church. He has challenged the diocese – has challenged us - to focus on the four core values of worship, spiritual formation, justice/nonviolence and radical hospitality.
The bishop’s visit and the groundbreaking of the new parish hall give us a great opportunity to reflect on how we as individuals and as Grace Church embody these four core values. In what ways might we enrich our worship, deepen spiritual formation, promote justice and nonviolence, and offer radical hospitality to all, especially the poor and oppressed? In short, how will we here at Grace Church more fully be what we really are – the Body of Christ on earth?
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
May 2008
A Groundbreaking Snapshot
When I was praying and thinking about my sermon for Sunday, April 13, I found myself looking ahead to the following Sunday when Bishop Beckwith would make his visit and would celebrate with us the groundbreaking of the new parish hall. In my sermon I predicted that the bishop’s visit and the groundbreaking would offer us a “snapshot” of what the Church hopes to be and what the Church really is – the Body of Christ on earth. I have a decidedly shaky track record when it comes to predicting the future, but this is one time when I was right on the money.
I can only imagine what the day felt like for the many of you who have lived through the long years of discussion and planning that led to the turning of the first shovelfuls of soil. I know, of course, that some in our community have had serious reservations about the project. There have been concerns about the expense and doubts about the need. Some parishioners have criticized the discernment process that led to the decision to build a new parish hall. On the other hand, many other parishioners have been enthusiastic and generous supporters of this project from the start. This lack of agreement should be unsurprising. Frankly, it would be highly unusual if there were unanimity in a parish this size about a project this significant.
I found it very moving that most of the parish, regardless of varying personal views, came together to welcome the bishop and to celebrate this milestone in the history of Grace Church. Although the weather was not as bright and sunny as we might have hoped, the day still provided a beautiful snapshot of Grace Church at its best. I am still amazed by the amount of care and effort that goes into planning all of our services, and especially major events such as the bishop’s visit. Nina Nicholson crafted the program and the Grace Notes with her usual keen eye for style and accuracy. Anne Matlack somehow juggled choir members’ schedules and prepared the choirs to produce beautiful music that was thoughtfully-chosen for the occasion. Mary Lea Crawley did her typically sensitive and creative work with our children, giving them a tour of the future construction site and making sure they were equipped to be an important part of the groundbreaking. Despite the mystery of just how many people would show up, Midge Cassidy pulled together a very fine reception. And, of course, Lauren Ackland was, as usual, the calm (at least on the outside) center of the storm. As I told a few people that morning, this was one of the many days at Grace when I was glad to not be the one in charge! This great day was not without its errors and glitches, but overall it offered a beautiful snapshot of Grace Church at its best – a joyful place where God is worshipped and glorified.
And then in the afternoon a good number of us went to Trinity + St. Philip’s Cathedral for Confirmation which, like the bishop’s visit to Grace, was a powerful reminder that we are part of a larger Church. Gathering together Episcopalians from the city and the suburbs in our cathedral offered us another beautiful snapshot of the Church being what it really is – the Body of Christ on earth.
One of the highlights of this long, full day was the adult seminar led by Bishop Beckwith before the 10:00AM service. The bishop shared with us his compelling vision for the Diocese of Newark – a vision of all of us standing with the Living Christ at the “Gates of Hope.” Although I had first heard the bishop outline this vision at our clergy conference in October and later at the diocesan convention in January, there was something particularly powerful about hearing him describe his vision right here at Grace Church. He has challenged the diocese – has challenged us - to focus on the four core values of worship, spiritual formation, justice/nonviolence and radical hospitality.
The bishop’s visit and the groundbreaking of the new parish hall give us a great opportunity to reflect on how we as individuals and as Grace Church embody these four core values. In what ways might we enrich our worship, deepen spiritual formation, promote justice and nonviolence, and offer radical hospitality to all, especially the poor and oppressed? In short, how will we here at Grace Church more fully be what we really are – the Body of Christ on earth?
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