Tending the Garden of Our Heart

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

June 16, 2013

Year C: The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost – Proper 6

1 Kings 21:1-21a

Psalm 5:1-8

Galatians 2:15-21

Luke 7:36-8:3

Tending the Garden of Our Heart

            One day about a month and half ago when I was beginning to move some of our things into the rectory, I spotted one of our parishioners watering the straw that’s lined up outside the church.

            I had been wondering why the straw was there and now I was curious why it was being watered.

            So I went over and introduced myself and asked what was going on.

            To my surprise, he explained that seeds had been planted in the straw. So, when he was watering the straw he was, in fact, tending this unusual garden.

            Who knew?

            Well, over these past few weeks it’s been fun and amazing to see the straw garden sprout plants and also to see the little garden in front of church grow. Of course that health and growth hasn’t happened by accident. All the rain has helped but also the care that many of our parishioners have taken to tend the garden.

            They’ve spent long hours digging, and fertilizing and mulching and removing branches and pulling out weeds. They’ve tended the garden to remove what’s unhealthy or dead and to promote health and well-being. And, now, we can see the beautiful results outside.

            Well, what’s true for our garden is even truer for our heart.

            We need to tend the garden of our heart – to remove what’s spiritually unhealthy or dead. We need to tend the garden of our heart to promote spiritual health and well-being. We need to tend the garden of our heart to grow a beautiful, blooming soul inside of us.

            And, the way we live our lives reflects how well – or not so well – we tend the garden of our heart.

            For example, take a look at some of the characters in today’s lessons.

            In the lesson from Hebrew Scripture we heard an ugly tale of greed, dishonesty and brutality.

            Despite military success during his rule in the 9^th Century BC, King Ahab of Samaria is presented very negatively in the First Book of Kings.

            In the story we heard today, King Ahab wants to buy the vineyard next door to his palace. As it turns out, Ahab wants to buy the vineyard to transform it into…a garden. Now, there’s nothing particularly wrong with that. But, when Naboth, the vineyard’s owner, refuses the king’s offer, when Ahab doesn’t get his way, the king pouts like a child, lying on his bed with his face turned away and refusing to eat.

            And then there’s Ahab’s wife, the famous Jezebel. She was a gentile, a non-Jew, from Phoenicia, a land north of Israel. She not only worshipped the pagan god Baal who we heard about a couple of weeks ago, but she encouraged others to worship Baal instead of the God of Israel.

            As you can imagine, the Bible has absolutely nothing nice to say about Jezebel!

            In today’s story, while Ahab is presented as childish and passive, Jezebel is cunning and ruthless. She arranges for false charges to be brought against Naboth the vineyard owner. Those false charges lead to Naboth’s execution and King Ahab is able to take possession of his precious vineyard.

            But, Ahab learns that he’ll pay a very high price for what he and Jezebel have done. The Prophet Elijah announces to the king, “Because you have sold yourself to do what is evil in the sight of the Lord, I will bring disaster on you.”

            Now, all of this happened a long time ago in a faraway place. And at first glance the story of Ahab and Jezebel would seem to be pretty alien to our experience. But, then again, how often do we put our needs and wants front and center? How do we react when we don’t get our way? How well do we take “no” for an answer? How often do we treat other people as things for our own pleasure or use, forgetting that they have their own hopes and dreams – forgetting that God treasures them as much as God treasures us?

            The story of Ahab and Jezebel reminds us to tend the garden of our heart.

            We need to dig out the selfishness in us. And we need to strengthen our roots to withstand set-backs – even if that set-back is simply rejection, just taking “no” for an answer.

            Now, let’s take a look at the characters in today’s gospel lesson.

            Today we heard Luke’s powerful story of Jesus eating at the home of Simon the Pharisee. There, an unnamed sinful woman bathes Jesus’ feet with her tears, dries his feet with her hair, kisses his feet and anoints his feet with oil.

            This was a very unusual scene to say the least – that kind of public contact between a man and a woman would have been scandalous no matter who they were but even more so for a man who some claimed was a prophet and a woman who was known to be a sinner.

            No surprise. Simon the Pharisee is shocked, but he keeps his thoughts to himself.

            Jesus, however, knows his thoughts and challenges him. And Jesus reminds Simon that he has failed to show hospitality to Jesus – not greeting him with a kiss, not anointing his head with oil.

            It would seem that Simon the Pharisee has some more work to do tending the garden of his heart – to dig out what ever makes him judgmental to uproot whatever prevents him from being hospitable to strangers and to guests.

            And then there’s the unnamed sinful woman.

            Here we finally have an example of someone who has done the hard work of tending the garden of her heart. She has recognized her own sinfulness, has begged for God’s mercy, and has received and felt God’s forgiveness.

            And how does she respond to God’s mercy and forgiveness?

            She responds with overflowing love and generosity – not caring what judgmental people like Simon the Pharisee think – crossing all sorts of cultural and religious boundaries – bathing Jesus’ feet with profound devotion and gratitude.

            So, all of the characters in today’s lessons – greedy and childish Ahab, cunning and ruthless Jezebel, judgmental and inhospitable Simon and the loving and generous woman remind us to tend the garden of our heart.

            And, what would that look like? How exactly do we tend the garden of our heart.

            Well, the answer will be a little different for each of us.

            But, certainly, tending the garden of our heart begins by being here week after week – hearing the old stories, singing the hymns, asking God’s forgiveness, extending our hands in love and friendship to one another, taking the Body and Blood of Christ into our bodies and into our hearts, and finally, going out into the world determined to love and serve the Lord.

            Tending the garden of our heart includes setting aside even just a few minutes to pray, to take stock of how we and God are doing, to give God a little opening to get through all the noise and busyness of our lives.

            Tending the garden of our heart includes asking forgiveness from those we’ve wronged and offering mercy to those who’ve wronged us.

            Tending the garden of our heart includes giving away our lives in loving service to God by taking care of one another, bathing Jesus’ feet by providing food for the poor, drying Jesus’ feet by reaching out to people who are different from us or who we really don’t like, anointing Jesus’ feet by sitting with people who are frightened, sick, alone, or dying.

            This is hard work. But, of course, it’s God who gives us the strength and will to do the hard work of tending the garden of our hearts.

            But, I think any gardener will tell you, the end result of a beautiful, blooming garden makes all the hard work worthwhile.

            And the powerful example of the sinful, forgiven and much-loved woman bathing Jesus’ feet with her tears, reminds us that the end result of a beautiful, blooming soul makes all the hard work worthwhile.

            May we all tend the garden of our heart.

            Amen.

           

           

           

             

            

Healing Miracles

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

June 9, 2013

Year C: Proper 5 – The Third Sunday after Pentecost

1 Kings 17:8-24

Psalm 146

Galatians 1:11-24

Luke 7:11-17

Healing Miracles

            For the second Sunday in a row we’ve heard a powerful story of a healing miracle performed by Jesus. In fact, today’s reading from the Gospel of Luke picks up right where we left off last Sunday.

            If you were here, you may remember that we heard the story of Jesus healing the centurion’s slave. We’re told that when the centurion, a gentile who was friendly with the local Jewish people, heard about Jesus he sent a delegation to ask Jesus to come and heal his highly valued slave.

            The centurion, a soldier who would have had 100 men under his authority, has not only great faith in Jesus, but is also very humble. He says,

            “Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof…But only speak the word, and let my servant be healed.”

            Amazed by the centurion’s faith and without saying a word or even going to the centurion’s house, Jesus heals the slave, returning him to good health.

            And then Luke immediately follows the story of the centurion’s slave with an even greater healing miracle, one unique to the Gospel of Luke and that echoes what we heard in today’s Old Testament lesson: Jesus resuscitates the son of the widow of Nain.

            Luke mentions that this was the widow’s only son. He doesn’t have to mention that his death was a disaster for her. Not only had she lost her only son but she had also lost what was probably her only financial and material support. Her future must have looked bleak indeed. I’m sure for more than one reason she wished that she were the one dead and being carried out of town.

            Notice that, unlike the centurion, the widow doesn’t ask for Jesus’ help – doesn’t even seem to see Jesus or know who he is. Instead, we’re told Jesus simply “had compassion for her” and said, “Do not weep.”

            And then Jesus performs one of his greatest healing miracles, saying to the dead man, “Young man, I say to you, rise!” Death was turned to life when Jesus gave the reborn man back to his mother.

            In this story we see divine power and compassion working in and through Jesus.

            I wonder how we feel when we hear these stories of healing miracles.

            They raise one of the big most difficult questions for people of faith – why does God choose to heal some and not others? Surely there were lots of sick slaves back in the First Century, yet Jesus chose to heal the centurion’s slave and not the others.

            And surely the widow of Nain wasn’t the only widow back in the First Century who lost her only son, yet Jesus chose to bring him and not the others back to life.

            And today we often pray for healing for others and for our selves. Sometimes health improves but often it doesn’t.

            Many times as a priest I’ve been called upon to offer prayers for healing and to anoint people with holy oil. It’s a great privilege - one of the most important and moving things I get to do. And because I want to be careful in my prayer, I always say pretty much the same thing – a healing prayer taken right from the book – the same prayer I’ll say at our healing Eucharist starting on Wednesday

            “I lay my hand upon you and anoint you with oil in the Name of our Lord and savior Jesus Christ, beseeching him to uphold you and fill you with grace, so you may know the healing power of his love.”

            “The healing power of his love.”

            There have been many times when I’ve said that prayer over the same person day after day – good, faithful people who were loved and prayed for by many. I wish I could tell you that they always or even usually sat up and returned to good health and their old lives. But that’s not true. Often their physical decline continued and soon enough there I was participating in their funeral.

            It’s hard. And the only way I’ve managed to continue is by realizing is that healing miracles are not really about physical healing. Yes, that’s a real blessing when it happens. But, the physical healing isn’t what’s most important.

            Think about it. Yes, Jesus healed the centurion’s slave, but, like all of us, I’m sure he continued to face pain and suffering. And, eventually, the day came when the slave died.

            And, Jesus resuscitated the widow’s only son, but, like all of us, I’m sure he continued to face pain and suffering. And, eventually, the day came when the widow’s son died.

            And even if we’ve experienced a healing miracle, we’ll still face pain and suffering in our lives. And, eventually, some day death will come for us, too.

            So I’m convinced the healing miracles aren’t really about the physical healing. Instead, the healing miracles are signs – signs of God’s kingdom. The healing miracles are glimpses of what God has in mind for all of us – what ultimately God offers all of us.

            The healing miracles give us sneak preview of God’s kingdom - the time and the place when and where our tears are wiped away, what’s broken is repaired, our mourning is turned into dancing, and death is transformed into life.

            In and through Christ – and in and through us today, the Body of Christ on earth - God continues to offer all of us healing miracles – God continues to offer us the healing power of God’s love.

            Healing miracle: two adult sons stood on either side of their beloved mother’s hospital bed as she gently gasped her last breaths, drifting off into death. Somehow, instead of weeping they were able to tell story after story of their growing up. So, the last sounds that woman heard were her two boys laughing as they remembered good times taking long rides in the family station wagon.

            Healing miracle: after a long and painful illness, a lovely and talented woman succumbed to cancer far too young. At her packed funeral in church, at the start of the service, her teenage daughter somehow found the strength to stand up all by herself and flawlessly sing a beautiful piece of music, offering one last gift to her mom and an unforgettable gift to all of us there that day.           

            Healing miracle: I sat for a long while in a hospital room with an old and dying woman in great discomfort because of a feeding tube up her nose. Most of the time she mumbled and said things that made no sense. And then, suddenly, she turned to me, her eyes as clear as could be and said, “I never knew I could love my children so much.”

            Healing miracle: I visited many times with a woman about my age whose body was filled with cancer. One day she said to me, “When I first got sick I asked God, ‘Why me?’ But now after having been in the hospital so much and having seen so many sick people, I ask, ‘Why not me?’”

            Healing miracle: one day I was sitting beside my grandmother in the hospital during the last days of her life. She assured me she wasn’t afraid. And then, whether she knew it or not, she quoted Jesus in the Gospel of John, (8:14): “I know where I have come from and where I am going.”

            I’ve seen that kind of healing miracle – the healing power of God’s love – over and over.

            For the past two Sundays we’ve heard stories of Jesus’ healing miracles – the healing of the centurion’s slave and the resuscitation of the widow’s son. In these stories we see God’s power and compassion working in and through Jesus.

            But, the healing miracles aren’t so much about the physical healing. Instead, the healing miracles are signs of God’s kingdom – they are glimpses of what God has in mind for all of us – what God offers all of us.

            The healing miracles are sneak previews of God’s kingdom - the time and the place when and where our tears are wiped away, what’s broken is repaired, our mourning is turned into dancing, and when death is transformed into life.

            And, if we keep our eyes and ears open we realize that in and through Christ – and in and through us today, the Body of Christ on earth - God continues to offer all of us healing miracles.

            May Christ uphold us and fill us with grace, so we may know the healing power of his love.

            Amen.

           

            

Choosing God, Choosing Love

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

June 2, 2013

Year C: Proper 4 – The Second Sunday after Pentecost

1 Kings 18:20-39

Psalm 96

Galatians 1:1-12

Luke 7:1-10

Choosing God, Choosing Love

            I’m not sure why, exactly, but I’ve only officiated at a few weddings in the six years since I was ordained a priest.

            As it happens, though, lately I’ve been on a little bit of a wedding streak! I officiated at one wedding last Sunday afternoon and I have another one later today.

            I didn’t know either couple when we began our pre-marital counseling sessions. In one case the groom is the son of parishioners at my former parish and in the other case the couple found me after being turned away by the local Roman Catholic parish.

            I spent a lot of time offering pre-marital counseling to both couples – encouraging them to look hard at their relationships, remember what brought them together, admit the things they don’t really like about each other, face up to mistakes they’ve made, and share their hopes and plans for the future.

            Like most of us, both couples carry a good bit of baggage: failed relationships, poor decisions, complicated family dynamics, and anxiety and fear about the future.

            But despite all that baggage, despite past mistakes, despite concerns about what tomorrow might bring, despite the option of not committing to each other till death do they part, both couples have made a choice. They’ve chosen love – not just romantic love but deep, self-giving, self-sacrificing love. And since God is love, whether they fully realize it or not, they’ve chosen God.

            Choices.

            We Americans have more choices than any people who have ever lived.

            In the first years that Sue and I lived on Highland Avenue, there was a little corner grocery store on West Side Avenue that was run by an elderly man and his two sisters. Maybe some of you remember it. Walking in there was like entering a time warp. There was fresh produce, but only what was in season. There were a few small aisles containing canned goods and household products.

            You could find pretty much all the essentials but there wasn’t much selection – there was little choice – Dawn, but no Joy – Chef Boyardee, but no Franco-American…you get the idea.

            Not too long ago that’s what life was like.

            Now, we go to Shop Rite and are faced with an incredible number of choices –just in the salad dressing aisle alone!

            Most of us remember when we had just a handful of TV channels. Maybe because it was a hassle to get up and change the channel, lots of us just stayed tuned to the same channel most of the time. There were “CBS families” or “Channel 7 families,” and so on.

            Choices.

            And it’s not just at the supermarket or on TV that we face way more choices than people before us. We also have many more choices when it comes to religion.

            A generation or two ago, it was very unusual – and usually downright scandalous – for someone to switch Christian denominations, let alone adopt a different religion, or, God forbid, to give up on religion altogether.

            But today, according to the writer Diana Butler Bass, “roughly 44 percent of Americans have left their childhood faith in favor of another denomination or religion or by dropping any religious affiliation at all.” And that last group – the people who don’t belong to any religious group is the fastest growing, especially among young people.

            Choices.

            In many ways, all these choices make for a new and troubling world. It’s definitely a lot harder to be church now that it’s perfectly acceptable for people to skip church and to ignore religion.

            Now, obviously, we’ve chosen to be here today. And many of us choose to be here most Sundays. Most, if not all of us, have chosen to identify as Episcopalians, as Christians, as followers of Jesus.

            But, when we’re here, that’s not such a hard choice, is it? Admit it, it’s easy to be a Christian here at St. Paul’s, right?

            But, that choice gets a lot harder when we’re out in the world. The choice gets a lot harder when it’s embarrassing to admit our faith. The choice get a lot harder when we know something’s wrong but we see people all around us doing it and getting away with it and we think, “Why not?” or “Just this one time.” The choice gets a lot harder when we have the chance to stand up for what’s right, to defend the weak, to risk something big for something good.

             It’s a pretty easy choice to be a Christian here at St. Paul’s. But, that choice gets a lot harder when we leave this place

            God who is Love has already chosen us.

            What choice do we make?

            Today’s lesson from Hebrew Scripture, from First Kings, is all about choosing – or not choosing – God.

            One of the great themes running throughout the Old Testament is the fact that God chose the people of Israel and was faithful to them but, like us, lots of times the Israelites made other choices.           

            In today’s reading from the Old Testament, it seems like at least some of the Israelites are hedging their bets – not quite abandoning their God but also choosing to worship the popular pagan god, Baal - you know, just in case. So, the Prophet Elijah calls them out - tells them to make up their minds. – to make a choice. Elijah says to the Israelites, “How long will you go limping with two different opinions? If the Lord is God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him.”

            Elijah then dramatically challenges the 450 prophets of Baal to a little game that we might call, “My God’s More Powerful Than Your God.” Sure enough, despite the best efforts of Baal’s prophets – despite calling to Baal from morning to noon, despite limping around the altar, despite cutting themselves, despite making offerings, Baal is silent, offering no answer, demonstrating no power.

            Then Elijah called upon the Lord and, we’re told, “the fire of the Lord fell” and the people then made a clear choice, saying, “The Lord is indeed God; the Lord is indeed God.”

            Choices.

            Unfortunately, our choice between the false gods of the world and the God who is Love is not as clear-cut as the choice the Israelites faced so long ago. These days God doesn’t usually send lightning strikes to display God’s power, to make our choice obvious and clear-cut.

            Then again, maybe God sends us a different kind of lightning strike.

            Isn’t love – deep, self-giving, self-sacrificing love - like a lightning strike?

            It’s like a lightning strike when we realize that somehow we love someone else – a partner, a child, a parent, a brother or sister, or a friend – more than we love ourselves.

            It’s like a lightning strike when we realize that, somehow, despite our many failures and imperfections, we are loved - loved by a partner, a child, a parent, a brother or a sister, or a friend.

            And, most of all, it’s like a lightning strike when we realize that we are loved by the Source of all love – the God who is Love.

            It’s like a lightning strike when we realize no matter how far we stray, no matter how many bad choices we make - no matter how many Baals – no matter how many false gods – we worship – God always loves us.

            As the ancient Israelites proclaimed after witnessing God’s power, “The Lord indeed is God. The Lord indeed is God.”

            We live in a time of many choices, both trivial and big – choices ranging from what salad dressing to buy to what religion, if any, to follow.

            But, we face one big choice.

            Will we be like the Israelites of long ago and hedge our bets – try to have it both ways by coming here to worship God, claiming to be Christians, but then going out into the world and choosing to worship the false gods of our time – the false gods of money, materialism, selfishness, cynicism, apathy and the rest?

            Or will we be like those two brave couples who made vows till death do they part – who despite the baggage, despite the risks, despite the fear, have chosen deep, self-giving, self-sacrificing love?

            God who is Love has already chosen us.

            What choice will we make?

            Amen.

           

           

           

                       

            

Encircling Each Other in Love

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

May 26, 2013

Year C: The First Sunday after Pentecost – Trinity Sunday

Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31

Psalm 8

Romans 5:1-5

John 16:12-15

Encircling Each Other in Love

            One thing we know for sure about Jesus is that he was pretty unhappy with a lot of religious people back in the First Century. (And most of the religious people weren’t too crazy about Jesus, either.)

            Over and over throughout the gospels we hear stories of Jesus condemning religious people for their hypocrisy – preaching one thing yet practicing something very different.

            Over and over throughout the gospels we hear stories of Jesus criticizing religious people for their arrogance – for thinking that they were better than other people, superior to those dirty sinners who obviously were despised by God.

            And over and over throughout the gospels we hear stories of Jesus challenging religious people to realize that they didn’t know God quite as well as they thought they did.

            Through his life, death and resurrection, Jesus reveals that God’s love is far greater – far wider – than anyone had ever imagined.

            Unfortunately, often religious people have a hard time getting – hard time accepting - the generosity of God’s love.

            The other day Pope Francis got a lot of religious Christians very upset by something he said. It’s become the pope’s custom at weekday mass to offer brief, informal homilies without notes, giving a real sense of his thoughts and his heart.

            Anyway, the other day in one of his homilies the pope said, "The Lord has redeemed all of us, all of us, with the Blood of Christ, all of us, not just Catholics. Everyone! 'Father, the atheists?' Even the atheists. Everyone!" We must meet one another doing good. 'But I don't believe, Father, I am an atheist!' But do good: we will meet one another there."

            I guess it’s no surprise that in our own time there are plenty of religious people who are not so different from those religious people Jesus had such a hard time with two thousand years ago.

            Plenty of religious people today – probably including us, at least sometimes, are hypocrites – preaching and proclaiming one thing, yet practicing something very different.

            Plenty of religious people today – probably including us, at least sometimes, are arrogant, thinking that we’re better than other people, superior to those dirty sinners out there – better than those atheists! - who are obviously despised by God.

            Plenty of religious people today – probably including us, at least sometimes, think we know God very well – and are not open to the reality that God’s love is far greater – far wider – than we had ever imagined.

            Well, every year on the First Sunday after Pentecost, the Church gives us the opportunity to reflect on how much we don’t know – and, also, on how much we do know – about God.

            It’s Trinity Sunday – a day to reflect on the great mystery of one God in three Persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

            God is an inexhaustible mystery. Our language is always inadequate when it comes to describing – let alone understanding – God.

            Sounding a bit like a Buddhist, the great theologian St. Augustine once said, “If you comprehend something, it is not God.”

            But, at the same time, God wants to be known by us. And God can be known through Scripture, through the witness of faithful people through the ages, and through creation itself. So, today and every day we are invited to ponder God, to reflect on God, and to meditate on God. We are invited to get to know God better.

            And for two thousand years Christians have been doing just that. And over the first few centuries of Christian history, some thinkers came to realize that we experience the one holy and living God as three: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

            For a long time – and still to some extent – Christians have argued and sometimes even killed each other over how God can be Three in One and exactly how the three Persons of the Trinity relate to each other. Meanwhile our Jewish and Muslim brothers and sisters throw up their hands in dismay, dismissing us Christians as closet polytheists.

            Out of all the Christian images of the Trinity, the one that I find most powerful is the Trinity as an eternal dance – a never-ending dance among the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit – an unending dance as the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit encircle each other in love.

            Now, I guess the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit could have danced away, encircling each other forever and ever alone in a perfect, self-contained community of love.

            But, since God’s love is far greater – far wider – than we can imagine, God chose – God chooses – through Jesus to widen the circle to include all of creation – to include even the atheists – to include even us.

            God wants us to be part of the eternal dance. God wants to encircle us with love. God wants us to encircle each other – to encircle the whole world – in love.

            So, we’re left with a choice.

            We can reject God’s invitation to the dance.

            Or, we say yes. We can allow the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit to encircle us with love.

            We can say yes and encircle each other with love.

            We can say yes and encircle with love the people we don’t like, the people who never say thank you, the people who are different from us, the people who don’t like us or maybe even hate us.

            We can say yes and encircle with love the people who have so little, the people who have lost so much, the people who are frightened – or who frighten us, the people who don’t seem too bright – or who seem too smart for their own good.

            We can say yes and encircle with love our city, broken by poverty, violence, corruption and despair.

            We can say yes and encircle with love the Muslims, Hindus, Jews, and, yes, even the atheists who live all around us.

            We can say yes and encircle with love God’s good creation by nurturing our own little plot of soil here on Duncan Avenue and by challenging each other and our government to be far better stewards of the earth battered and bruised by us.

            Every year on the First Sunday after Pentecost, the Church gives us the opportunity to reflect on how much we don’t know – and how much we do know – about God.

            It’s Trinity Sunday – a day to reflect on the great mystery of one God in three Persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

            God is an inexhaustible mystery. Our language is always inadequate when it comes to describing – let alone understanding – God.

            But, God wants to be known by us.

            And through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, we know that God’s love is far greater – far wider – than we can imagine.

            God – the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit – are in an eternal dance, encircling each other in love.

            And God wants us to be part of the eternal dance. God wants to encircle us with love. God wants us to encircle each other – to encircle the whole world – in love.

            May it be so.

            Amen.

              

The Holy Spirit, Fiery and Comforting

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

May 19, 2013

Year C: The Day of Pentecost

Acts 2:1-21

Psalm 104: 25-35, 37

Romans 8:14-17

John 14: 8-17, 25-27

The Holy Spirit, Fiery and Comforting

            Happy Pentecost!

            Pentecost is a very big day in the church. In fact, Pentecost is the feast second in importance only to Easter.

            Pentecost, fifty days after Easter, is the day we remember and celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit to the disciples in Jerusalem some two thousand years ago.

            Pentecost is the day that we remember and celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit to Christians throughout the ages.

            Pentecost is the day that we remember and celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit to us here today.

            And, actually, the Feast of Pentecost has its roots in the Old Testament, so it’s much older than Christianity. It was and still is a feast celebrated by Jews fifty days after the great feast of Passover.

            Pentecost began as a harvest festival – a time when the Jewish people would offer some of their crops – offer their best - their “first fruits” - in thanksgiving to God. 

            Later, it lost most of its agricultural meaning and instead became a day to remember and celebrate the gift of the Law to Moses.

            So, it’s not clear what exactly was being celebrated on that Pentecost in Jerusalem back two thousand years ago. But, as we heard in today’s reading from the Acts of the Apostles, whatever they were celebrating had attracted Jews from all around the known world and it had also attracted the little group of Jesus’ followers.

            At the start of the Pentecost story in Acts, the author gives an important detail. The disciples “were all together in one place.”

            Now, on the one hand this could mean that the disciples were all together in the house having a happy Pentecost party.

            But, that doesn’t seem likely.

            Instead, it seems like the disciples who had recently been through so much – Jesus’ death, resurrection and ascension – were frightened and lost without their leader, their teacher, their friend – frightened and lost without Jesus. So, on that great feast they were all together in a house in Jerusalem, frightened and lost.

            And then, suddenly, everything changed.

            We’re told there was a loud sound from heaven like a rushing wind – a loud sound that filled their house.

            “Divided tongues, as of fire appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them.”

            And, somehow, the disciples were able to speak in many different languages. The disciples were able to tell the whole world the Good News of Jesus. And the Church was born.

            Because of that description of “divided tongues, as of fire” it’s the custom to wear red on Pentecost. It’s been the custom that red is the color of the Holy Spirit.

            Back on that day in Jerusalem two thousand years ago, the Holy Spirit really was red – really was fiery – burning away the fear and doubt of the disciples, purifying them so that they could be courageous witnesses of Jesus, inspiring them to love their neighbors, fortifying them to begin the work of building the Church.

            And the Holy Spirit is still fiery, burning away our fear and doubt, purifying us to be courageous witnesses of Jesus, inspiring us to love our neighbors, fortifying us to build up the Church.

            It may not have been quite as dramatic as what happened two thousand years ago in Jerusalem, but I bet many of us have experienced this fiery red Holy Spirit.

            I bet many of us have experienced the Holy Spirit on fire in and around us, transforming our lives.

            I’ve experienced that fiery Holy Spirit a few times in my life. Most recently, it was the fiery Holy Spirit that somehow managed to get St. Paul’s and Sue and me back together again.

            As Pauline and the vestry and some of you know, it took some doing to make this happen. From the start it felt right to me – it felt like I had been ordained to be your rector – but there were plenty of obstacles and twists and turns along the way.

            Yet, each time we reached what looked like a roadblock, it felt to me like the Holy Spirit just burned on through, inspiring us and inspiring the bishop and others at the diocese to figure out a way forward.

            And, actually, the fiery red Holy Spirit visits St. Paul’s on a regular basis.

            Last Sunday I mentioned how much I love the Exchange of Peace here. And, tell me, doesn’t that feel a lot like Pentecost every week? All of us – from around the corner and around the world – all of us – whether we grew up in these pews or just arrived at St. Paul’s a few weeks ago – all of us – whether we’re lifelong Episcopalians or we don’t even know how to spell “Episcopalian” – all of us – reach out and offer God’s peace and God’s love to one another.

            The fiery Holy Spirit visits this place all the time.

            But, that’s not the only way we experience the power and love of the Holy Spirit.

            The Holy Spirit is not always fiery. The Holy Spirit can also be comforting. And here at St. Paul’s, the Holy Spirit also comes in… blue. Just look at the beautiful window behind you. And the comforting blue Holy Spirit represented by that window really is here – really is with us – all the time.

            We hear about the comforting Holy Spirit in today’s gospel lesson.

            Once again we’re back at the Last Supper – back in the “Farewell Discourse” when Jesus is trying – one last time - to teach his disciples what’s most important.

            Jesus tells them that he is going to ask God the Father to send an Advocate to be with them – to be with us – forever. And Jesus says that we are going to have a very personal, even intimate, relationship with this Advocate – with the Holy Spirit.

            Jesus says that we know the Holy Spirit because the Holy Spirit abides with us. We know the Holy Spirit because the Holy Spirit is in us.

            This is another dimension to the Holy Spirit. Yes the Holy Spirit can be fiery, nearly knocking us over with power, transforming our lives, sending us off in totally unexpected directions, or bringing us safely home.

            But, the Holy Spirit can also be comforting, living among and within us all the time. And here at St. Paul’s that beautiful round window up there behind you can remind us that the comforting blue Holy Spirit. is with us always.

            We experience the comforting Holy Spirit when we admit wrongdoing and ask forgiveness from a family member, a friend, a coworker or a classmate.

            We experience the comforting Holy Spirit when we let go of a grudge or resentment, when we offer forgiveness to those who wrong us or hurt us.

            We experience the comforting Holy Spirit when we lose a job, or suffer a broken relationship, or face an illness, or lose the one we loved most in the world, and somehow we’re able to move forward reassembling the pieces of our life – not the same as it was before and with gaps that can never be filled – but, still, life and love.

            Some of you know that at certain times the sunlight streams through that blue Holy Spirit window up there, coating our church in beautiful blue. I love that. And for me that blue glow symbolizes how the Holy Spirit coats us in love and comfort.

            So, today we celebrate Pentecost, fifty days after Easter, the day we remember and celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit to the disciples in Jerusalem back some two thousand years ago.

            Today we celebrate Pentecost. We celebrate the gift of the fiery red Holy Spirit burning away fear and doubt, purifying, inspiring and fortifying the early disciples – and us.

            Today we celebrate Pentecost. We celebrate the gift of the comforting blue Holy Spirit abiding with the first disciples – abiding in us – living in us – always.

            And, like our Jewish brothers and sisters, on Pentecost and every day may we give thanks to God by offering our best – by offering our “first fruits.”

            Amen.                        

The Oneness that Makes God Known

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

May 12, 2013

Year C: The Seventh Sunday of Easter

Acts 16:16-34

Psalm 97

Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21

John 17:20-26

The Oneness that Makes God Known

            The lesson I just read comes from the Gospel of John’s account of the Last Supper – the final meal shared between Jesus and his closest friends and followers.

            The way John tells the story, since Jesus knows that his time on earth is running out, he tries – in what’s called the Final Discourse - to get through to his often thick-headed followers, to teach them – and to teach us here today - what’s most important.

            So, at that final meal, Jesus gets down on his hands and knees and washes the feet of his disciples, acting out his most important lesson: that we are all meant to be loving servants of God and loving servants of one another.

            And now, in today’s passage, we come to the end of the Farewell Discourse, the end of the Last Supper.

            And what does Jesus do at the end of his time with his friends?

            No surprise: Jesus prays.

            Jesus prays for his disciples gathered around him – and Jesus prays for us.             
            Jesus says, "I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.”

            At the end of the Last Supper, at the end of his time with his friends, at the end of the Farewell Discourse, Jesus prays for oneness.

            Jesus prays for oneness among his disciples back in Jerusalem two thousand years ago – and Jesus prays for oneness among us here today.

            Jesus prays for the oneness that makes God known.

            Unfortunately, most of the time we fall far short of oneness.

            You don’t need me to tell you that the city, the country, the world, and even often the church are broken, fragmented and divided.

            Often we are broken between the rich and the poor, fragmented by race and ethnicity, divided between liberals and conservatives.

            Often we are broken between urbanites and suburbanites, fragmented by our success and our failure, divided between the young and not so young.

            Often we watch our own TV channels, making sure that we’re never exposed to points of view or cultures different from our own.

            Often we demonize people who disagree with us – willing to assume the worst – willing to assume that our opponents are not just wrong but that they’re mean-spirited, malicious and maybe even downright evil.

            And, all too often the Church falls far short of oneness.

            Over the years the three remaining Episcopal churches in Jersey City have not always been willing or able to work well together.

            And just walk around our neighborhood and see all the churches of the many Christian denominations, including our own, that all exist because of disagreements and divisions that usually later on seem to have been not so important.

            Yet, like Humpty Dumpty, once something gets broken – even the Body of Christ – it’s nearly impossible to put it back together again.

            Yet, Jesus still prays for his followers – prays for us - to be one, like he and the Father are one.

            And, every once in a while, we get a glimpse of the oneness that Jesus prays for – the oneness among his followers, the oneness of all people, the oneness that makes God known.

            Often we glimpse that oneness in times of disaster and tragedy.

            Like most of you, I remember very well the glimpse of oneness we saw after the September 11 attacks. I remember that first terrible evening when Fr. Hamilton gathered some of us together to pray and grieve over in the chapel, when we reached out to those in need, when we cut each other as much slack as needed, when just about the whole world became one in solidarity against unspeakable horror committed against people just sitting at their desks or taking a flight on a crystal clear morning.

            And in the years since, when there have been attacks here and elsewhere, when American cities have been submerged by powerful storms, often we’ve glimpsed that oneness yet again.

            Fortunately, it’s not just in times of tragedy that we glimpse the oneness that makes God known.

            Often we glimpse that oneness in the bond between parent and child – and today on Mother’s Day we celebrate the special love – the unique unity between mother and child – the oneness formed over nine months of pregnancy and years of loving care.

            And, at our best, we glimpse the oneness that makes God known right here in church, right here at St. Paul’s.

            I’ll never forget the first Sunday that my wife Sue and I walked through those doors.

            We were struck by so much: the beauty of this place, the diversity of the congregation, Fr. Hamilton’s smart and passionate preaching, and the wonderful music.

            But, as some of you know, I’ve never gotten over the exchange of peace.

            Where we came from when you went to church you hoped nobody would sit close so when it was time for the peace you could just give a little wave or a nod or maybe the peace sign.

            But, here…just about everybody was out in the aisle, greeting each other with what looked like and, it turned out was, genuine affection and deep love.

            For a few minutes, our fragmentation, our brokenness, and our divisions are healed – and we glimpse, we experience, the oneness that makes God known.

            And then after we glimpse oneness during the peace, we experience oneness in the most profound way imaginable when we gather at the Lord’s Table, reach out our hands and take the Body and Blood of Christ into our bodies and into our hearts.

            At the end of the Last Supper, Jesus prayed for his disciples, and then he said, "I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.”

            At the end of the Last Supper, at the end of his time with his friends, at the end of the Farewell Discourse, Jesus prays for oneness.

            And, Jesus is still praying for oneness – for the oneness that makes God known here at St. Paul’s – the oneness that makes God known in Jersey City, in the diocese, in the country and throughout the world.

            Jesus is still praying for oneness – for the oneness that will unite us with our sister churches in Jersey City, inspiring us to proclaim together the Good News in deed and in word.

            Jesus is still praying for oneness – for the oneness that will break down the divisions between rich and poor, between black and white, between the successes and the failures, between liberals and conservatives, between the young and the old, between suburbanites and urbanites.

            Jesus is still praying for oneness – for the oneness that like an earthquake will rock the world’s foundations, the oneness that will heal the bad history and mistrust between the oppressors and the oppressed, between the jailers and the jailed, between the powerful and the weak.

            Jesus is still praying for oneness – for the oneness that makes God known.

            And so as we begin a new chapter together, may we here at St. Paul’s answer Jesus’ prayer - and be one, making God known to Jersey City and beyond.

            Amen.