Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
September 25, 2009
Funeral Sermon for David Ian Keith Davies
Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 23
1 John 3:1-2
John 14:1-6a
Believe and Belove
In the passage I just read from the Gospel of John, Jesus is at the Last Supper with his friends and he’s just told them the shocking and devastating news that he will be with them just a short while longer.
As you might expect, the disciples are upset at this news. Jesus is going to die? How is this possible? This wasn’t what we expected. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. How can we go on without our beloved teacher and friend and Lord? How can we go on without Jesus?
In the Gospel, Jesus tries to console his friends by saying, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.”
Frankly, in the Gospel those consoling words of Jesus don’t work at first. The disciples are going to be devastated by what happens to Jesus and they will deeply mourn his death.
At first those consoling words of Jesus didn’t work with the disciples and maybe they didn’t work with us here today either.
There’s a lot of sadness and shock here today and I suspect that believing in God and believing in Jesus might be difficult for many of us.
I never met Keith but hearing Bruce and Wendy talk about him – hearing about his love of life, his sense of fun, his quest for adventure – hearing about all of that has made me wish I had known him in life.
I wish I had known Keith the champion wrestler who also loved English Literature. I wish I had known Keith who surely loved sailing and the Shore but who loved nothing more than spending time with his daughters. Bruce mentioned to me several times how Keith loved singing songs to his daughters as they drifted off to sleep.
I didn’t know Keith, but of course, so many of you here this morning knew him very well. There is much shock – and maybe anger - at his sudden, untimely and unexpected death. There is much sadness and grief that we will not see Keith again in this life.
Sometimes people think it’s wrong to cry or be angry at a church funeral. Sometimes people think that because we as Christians believe that death is not the end, that somehow it’s wrong to feel sad or angry that someone we love has died.
That’s nonsense. What’s happening here this morning is part of the mourning you have been doing all this week. Bruce told me that he has spent so much time on the phone talking with people who cared about Keith – people who care about this family and who want to offer some comfort or just to let them know that they are hurting too. And what a tribute to Keith and his family that so many people have come here this morning.
So one of the reasons we gather here in church is to grieve this very real loss – to mourn the loss of this special and complex person you loved so much. So, just in case you weren’t sure, it is perfectly appropriate to feel sad and even angry at a church funeral.
But, this morning we’re not just about grief .
We are also here to give thanks. We are here to give thanks for Keith’s life. And we are here to give thanks to the loving God who gave the gift of life to Keith and has given all of us the gift of life.
It is God who imagined Keith into existence. It is God who was with Keith every breath, every minute of his life. It is God who knew Keith better than Keith knew himself.
Because it is so hard to face the death of someone we love, Jesus tells his friends – tells us - “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.”
Especially at moments like this many of us struggle with belief. Maybe it would be less of a struggle if we better understood what it means to believe in God.
In my experience most people think that to believe is to kind of mentally agree to set of propositions or claims – sort of a mental checklist. “Yep, I believe this, I believe that and I believe this other thing.”
In a few moments we’ll say together the Apostle’s Creed – and that sure does sound like a checklist of propositions and claims.
It turns out that’s actually a very modern understanding of the word “believe.” As a student of English Literature maybe Keith knew that the original meaning of “to believe” was “to love.” In fact, the English words “believe” and “belove” are related. As one scholar has written, “What we believe is what we belove.”
Believing is beloving.
And so in the Gospel, Jesus is not asking his sad and shocked friends to complete a mental checklist. Jesus is asking for love. Jesus is asking his friends, asking us, to turn to him, turn to God, in love.
Keith Davies lived a life of love and in his life you had a glimpse of the source of love, the God who is love itself.
In Keith’s life of love you had a glimpse of the God who loves us so much that in Jesus he came and lived and died among us. In Keith’s life of love you had a glimpse of the God who loves us so much that death itself was defeated on Easter morning.
Today we mourn the loss of Keith but we also give thanks that Keith is now safely in the presence of the God of love.
And that same God of love is ready to console us and strengthen us, if only we open our hearts, believe and belove.
Amen.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Sunday, September 06, 2009
The Messianic Secret
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
September 6, 2009
The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Year B: Proper 18
(Isaiah 35:4-7a)
Psalm 146
James 2:1-17
Mark 7:24-37
The Messianic Secret
Today’s gospel lesson raises a couple of difficult questions. One question is why in the world is Jesus so harsh with this woman who is desperately trying to help her daughter.
The second question might not be so obvious. What’s with all the secrecy? Mark tells us that Jesus “entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there.” And later, after he heals the man who was deaf and mute, Jesus tells the disciples not to tell anyone what they’ve seen.
Why is Jesus so harsh with this woman and why is Jesus being so secretive? I believe the answers to both questions are related.
Despite Jesus’ attempts at secrecy, the word about him and his power gets out. Even the Gentiles hear about Jesus, including a certain Syrophoenician woman.
She’s one of the most remarkable women in the New Testament.
Mark describes her simply as a “Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin.” He tells us her daughter is possessed by a demon. And since this woman has heard about the healing power of Jesus, she boldly approaches him and asks him to cast the demon out of her daughter.
We know just about nothing about her and yet we know her, don’t we? She’s a mother fiercely trying to save her child – willing to try just about anything to make her daughter healthy and whole again. We know her.
She’s a mother who has every reason to think this Jewish teacher and healer is going to reject her request. After all, he’s a Jewish man and she’s a Gentile woman. He should have nothing to do with her, let alone heal her daughter.
Yet, she still comes forward and asks for help. And after he rejects her request, she’s incredibly bold and persistent and, yes, faithful. She’s been insulted, referred to as a dog, and yet she comes back at him. This gentile woman comes back at this Jewish rabbi and her boldness and persistence and yes her faithfulness is rewarded. Her daughter is healed.
We know almost nothing about the woman, yet we know her. There’s nothing unusual about a mother fighting for the life of her child.
On the other hand, we know a lot about Jesus, yet it’s hard to recognize the Jesus we know in the way he treats this woman.
Over and over in the gospels we see Jesus breaking through all kinds of boundaries, spending time with, talking with, even eating with people he’s really not supposed be with. He drives the religious people crazy with his behavior. And Jesus’ boundary-breaking even confuses the disciples, the people who were closest to him.
But in today’s gospel Jesus is downright un-Jesus-like in his treatment of this woman. She comes to him begging for help and he replies with a common Jewish slur against Gentiles, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
Ouch. What in the world is going on here?
In this odd exchange with the Syrophoenician woman we get a rare glimpse of Jesus growing. We catch Jesus in a moment when he understands even more just how big his mission is. We see Jesus’ growing realization that, yes, he is the Jewish messiah, but more than that, he is the messiah for the whole world.
When the woman replies to his insult, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs,” we can imagine Jesus having an “aha” or “you got me” moment.
So in this encounter with the Syrophoenician woman we see an important moment in Jesus’ life – a moment when he deepens his understanding of who he is and what he’s come into the world to do.
And to show Jesus’ growth Mark deliberately places the healing of the man who is deaf and mute right after the story of the Syrophoenician woman. Jesus heals the Gentile daughter at a distance, but in the case of the Gentile man, Jesus is more like the Jesus we know. Jesus breaks through some real boundaries, placing his fingers into his Gentile ears and spitting and touching his tongue.
And Jesus’ growing realization of who he is and what he has come into the world to do has something to do with his secrecy.
This secrecy is one of the big themes in the Gospel of Mark and people have puzzled over it for a very long time. On the surface it does seem odd that Jesus would keep telling his disciples not to tell people about his powerful works.
But maybe this secrecy reflects a certain ambivalence or caution or even fear on the part of Jesus. As he increasingly recognized his own power and mission he also recognized his destiny. And in the second half of the Gospel of Mark Jesus repeatedly predicts his own suffering and death.
Until Jesus is ready to really give himself to his mission, until he’s ready to break through human boundaries, until he’s ready to give it all away, to sacrifice his life, wouldn’t it make sense to just…keep things quiet?
Once the word is out there won’t be any turning back for Jesus. And this is something we can relate to isn’t it? How many of us when we’re considering a life-altering change prefer to keep it quiet until we are really ready and sure? Once everyone knows it’s pretty hard to change course.
In my own case, I didn’t tell anyone that I was going to ask Sue to marry me. I figured if she said no, my humiliation could be private. And later I only told a few close friends and family that I was going to pursue ordination. This way, if the Church didn’t think I was called I’d be spared having to explain things to everyone at work.
Maybe thinking about Jesus being challenged to learn and grow makes us uneasy. Maybe thinking about Jesus hesitating to take on his mission makes us uncomfortable. Maybe we prefer to think of Jesus as always having known who he was, what he was called to do. Maybe we prefer to think of Jesus as fearless, completely confident.
But I find Jesus’ encounter with the Syrophoenician woman to be comforting. The truth is as Christians we are called to break through the boundaries that divide us from others. And we all know this is hard to do. I find it comforting that even Jesus was tempted to stick with his own people, to stick with what was familiar. Even Jesus was tempted to disregard the needs of people who were different, people who were the “dogs” of the world.
And I find it comforting that the early Church – those who were closest to the life of Jesus - struggled with the challenge of crossing boundaries and respecting the dignity of every human being.
In our lesson from the Epistle of James, the author writes to the early Church and accuses them of acts of favoritism – of treating the rich and the presentable with hospitality and the poor and disheveled – the “dogs” - with disdain.
In thinking about how hard it is to cross the boundaries that divide us, I was reminded of one experience I had on the mission trip to Camden.
I spent one day at a drop-in center for homeless people called “New Visions.” It’s housed in a former Lutheran church downtown and provides meals, laundry, a mail drop and a whole host of other services. Our job as volunteers was to provide what’s called the “ministry of presence” – to just be with the people in the large common room, which I guess was once the parish hall.
There were some very real boundaries in that room – boundaries that divided us and that were not easy to cross.
I saw one group of guys sitting at a table playing a game of checkers. When I went over to them all but one moved away. The one who remained seemed pretty together – clean, fairly well dressed, apparently educated, and so on. I felt pretty comfortable with him. He started telling me how he was the best checkers player around and asked if I wanted to play.
I was glad to have something to do. Sure enough he quickly started snapping up my pieces and began lecturing me on how I didn’t understand strategy and didn’t know anything about checkers.
After he got his first king he made a move I had never seen before – swooping down the line and taking all my pieces that were along the way. I asked him what he was doing and, looking slightly offended, he told me that we were playing “flying kings” and that’s how it was done.
Once I realized how the game was played, I started to rally and began taking some of his pieces and got some “flying kings” of my own. The lectures about strategy and my ignorance came to an end.
It was around this time that another client of the center sat with us. He looked to be in pretty bad shape – disheveled and his ravaged face reflected a hard life and, I suspected, a lot of substance abuse. He asked if he could play winners. My opponent and I, locked in an epic checkers battle, ignored him although I was aware of his near-constant mumbling and twitching.
Finally the checker board was nearly clear – I had a king and one other piece and my opponent had a king. We moved our pieces around for a while but it was clear we were stalemated. My opponent gave up in disgust – and told me that I was smarter than he thought I was.
I was feeling pretty good – I had just about beaten the best checker player in the place! So when the disheveled, mumbling, twitchy other guy asked if I wanted to play, I said sure.
I looked with pity at his worn and weary face and click, click, click, in what seemed like nine or ten moves, and almost without me noticing, he had beaten me.
He asked if I wanted to play again. My competitive juices were starting to flow. I said yes. Again, click, click, click, he had beaten me.
The next time I began by mirroring each of his moves. Of course, he immediately knew what I was up to and looked at me with a hint of amusement and, click, click, click. Same result.
Realizing I was going to lose anyway, I began to engage him in conversation as we played. As I learned something about his story, and told him something of my story, the boundaries between us began to break down.
Today’s lessons remind us of Jesus’ mission and the church’s mission to break through the boundaries that separate us. It wasn’t always easy for Jesus and it’s certainly not easy for us. But with God’s help we can break through the boundaries that divide humanity and recognize everyone – especially those the world considers “the dogs” – as beloved creations of God.
Amen.
September 6, 2009
The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Year B: Proper 18
(Isaiah 35:4-7a)
Psalm 146
James 2:1-17
Mark 7:24-37
The Messianic Secret
Today’s gospel lesson raises a couple of difficult questions. One question is why in the world is Jesus so harsh with this woman who is desperately trying to help her daughter.
The second question might not be so obvious. What’s with all the secrecy? Mark tells us that Jesus “entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there.” And later, after he heals the man who was deaf and mute, Jesus tells the disciples not to tell anyone what they’ve seen.
Why is Jesus so harsh with this woman and why is Jesus being so secretive? I believe the answers to both questions are related.
Despite Jesus’ attempts at secrecy, the word about him and his power gets out. Even the Gentiles hear about Jesus, including a certain Syrophoenician woman.
She’s one of the most remarkable women in the New Testament.
Mark describes her simply as a “Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin.” He tells us her daughter is possessed by a demon. And since this woman has heard about the healing power of Jesus, she boldly approaches him and asks him to cast the demon out of her daughter.
We know just about nothing about her and yet we know her, don’t we? She’s a mother fiercely trying to save her child – willing to try just about anything to make her daughter healthy and whole again. We know her.
She’s a mother who has every reason to think this Jewish teacher and healer is going to reject her request. After all, he’s a Jewish man and she’s a Gentile woman. He should have nothing to do with her, let alone heal her daughter.
Yet, she still comes forward and asks for help. And after he rejects her request, she’s incredibly bold and persistent and, yes, faithful. She’s been insulted, referred to as a dog, and yet she comes back at him. This gentile woman comes back at this Jewish rabbi and her boldness and persistence and yes her faithfulness is rewarded. Her daughter is healed.
We know almost nothing about the woman, yet we know her. There’s nothing unusual about a mother fighting for the life of her child.
On the other hand, we know a lot about Jesus, yet it’s hard to recognize the Jesus we know in the way he treats this woman.
Over and over in the gospels we see Jesus breaking through all kinds of boundaries, spending time with, talking with, even eating with people he’s really not supposed be with. He drives the religious people crazy with his behavior. And Jesus’ boundary-breaking even confuses the disciples, the people who were closest to him.
But in today’s gospel Jesus is downright un-Jesus-like in his treatment of this woman. She comes to him begging for help and he replies with a common Jewish slur against Gentiles, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
Ouch. What in the world is going on here?
In this odd exchange with the Syrophoenician woman we get a rare glimpse of Jesus growing. We catch Jesus in a moment when he understands even more just how big his mission is. We see Jesus’ growing realization that, yes, he is the Jewish messiah, but more than that, he is the messiah for the whole world.
When the woman replies to his insult, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs,” we can imagine Jesus having an “aha” or “you got me” moment.
So in this encounter with the Syrophoenician woman we see an important moment in Jesus’ life – a moment when he deepens his understanding of who he is and what he’s come into the world to do.
And to show Jesus’ growth Mark deliberately places the healing of the man who is deaf and mute right after the story of the Syrophoenician woman. Jesus heals the Gentile daughter at a distance, but in the case of the Gentile man, Jesus is more like the Jesus we know. Jesus breaks through some real boundaries, placing his fingers into his Gentile ears and spitting and touching his tongue.
And Jesus’ growing realization of who he is and what he has come into the world to do has something to do with his secrecy.
This secrecy is one of the big themes in the Gospel of Mark and people have puzzled over it for a very long time. On the surface it does seem odd that Jesus would keep telling his disciples not to tell people about his powerful works.
But maybe this secrecy reflects a certain ambivalence or caution or even fear on the part of Jesus. As he increasingly recognized his own power and mission he also recognized his destiny. And in the second half of the Gospel of Mark Jesus repeatedly predicts his own suffering and death.
Until Jesus is ready to really give himself to his mission, until he’s ready to break through human boundaries, until he’s ready to give it all away, to sacrifice his life, wouldn’t it make sense to just…keep things quiet?
Once the word is out there won’t be any turning back for Jesus. And this is something we can relate to isn’t it? How many of us when we’re considering a life-altering change prefer to keep it quiet until we are really ready and sure? Once everyone knows it’s pretty hard to change course.
In my own case, I didn’t tell anyone that I was going to ask Sue to marry me. I figured if she said no, my humiliation could be private. And later I only told a few close friends and family that I was going to pursue ordination. This way, if the Church didn’t think I was called I’d be spared having to explain things to everyone at work.
Maybe thinking about Jesus being challenged to learn and grow makes us uneasy. Maybe thinking about Jesus hesitating to take on his mission makes us uncomfortable. Maybe we prefer to think of Jesus as always having known who he was, what he was called to do. Maybe we prefer to think of Jesus as fearless, completely confident.
But I find Jesus’ encounter with the Syrophoenician woman to be comforting. The truth is as Christians we are called to break through the boundaries that divide us from others. And we all know this is hard to do. I find it comforting that even Jesus was tempted to stick with his own people, to stick with what was familiar. Even Jesus was tempted to disregard the needs of people who were different, people who were the “dogs” of the world.
And I find it comforting that the early Church – those who were closest to the life of Jesus - struggled with the challenge of crossing boundaries and respecting the dignity of every human being.
In our lesson from the Epistle of James, the author writes to the early Church and accuses them of acts of favoritism – of treating the rich and the presentable with hospitality and the poor and disheveled – the “dogs” - with disdain.
In thinking about how hard it is to cross the boundaries that divide us, I was reminded of one experience I had on the mission trip to Camden.
I spent one day at a drop-in center for homeless people called “New Visions.” It’s housed in a former Lutheran church downtown and provides meals, laundry, a mail drop and a whole host of other services. Our job as volunteers was to provide what’s called the “ministry of presence” – to just be with the people in the large common room, which I guess was once the parish hall.
There were some very real boundaries in that room – boundaries that divided us and that were not easy to cross.
I saw one group of guys sitting at a table playing a game of checkers. When I went over to them all but one moved away. The one who remained seemed pretty together – clean, fairly well dressed, apparently educated, and so on. I felt pretty comfortable with him. He started telling me how he was the best checkers player around and asked if I wanted to play.
I was glad to have something to do. Sure enough he quickly started snapping up my pieces and began lecturing me on how I didn’t understand strategy and didn’t know anything about checkers.
After he got his first king he made a move I had never seen before – swooping down the line and taking all my pieces that were along the way. I asked him what he was doing and, looking slightly offended, he told me that we were playing “flying kings” and that’s how it was done.
Once I realized how the game was played, I started to rally and began taking some of his pieces and got some “flying kings” of my own. The lectures about strategy and my ignorance came to an end.
It was around this time that another client of the center sat with us. He looked to be in pretty bad shape – disheveled and his ravaged face reflected a hard life and, I suspected, a lot of substance abuse. He asked if he could play winners. My opponent and I, locked in an epic checkers battle, ignored him although I was aware of his near-constant mumbling and twitching.
Finally the checker board was nearly clear – I had a king and one other piece and my opponent had a king. We moved our pieces around for a while but it was clear we were stalemated. My opponent gave up in disgust – and told me that I was smarter than he thought I was.
I was feeling pretty good – I had just about beaten the best checker player in the place! So when the disheveled, mumbling, twitchy other guy asked if I wanted to play, I said sure.
I looked with pity at his worn and weary face and click, click, click, in what seemed like nine or ten moves, and almost without me noticing, he had beaten me.
He asked if I wanted to play again. My competitive juices were starting to flow. I said yes. Again, click, click, click, he had beaten me.
The next time I began by mirroring each of his moves. Of course, he immediately knew what I was up to and looked at me with a hint of amusement and, click, click, click. Same result.
Realizing I was going to lose anyway, I began to engage him in conversation as we played. As I learned something about his story, and told him something of my story, the boundaries between us began to break down.
Today’s lessons remind us of Jesus’ mission and the church’s mission to break through the boundaries that separate us. It wasn’t always easy for Jesus and it’s certainly not easy for us. But with God’s help we can break through the boundaries that divide humanity and recognize everyone – especially those the world considers “the dogs” – as beloved creations of God.
Amen.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Mission Trip Reflections: Naming the Poor
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
The Messenger
September 2009
Mission Trip Reflections: Naming the Poor
On a Monday morning a few weeks ago I felt a mix of emotions as we prepared to leave for our mission trip to Camden. I was excited that this long-planned trip was now about to begin. I was nervous about the safety of all of us who would be spending the better part of a week in one of America’s poorest and most dangerous cities. I was also profoundly grateful for the generosity, openness and courage of the young people and adults who had volunteered to travel down the New Jersey Turnpike into what was for most of us uncharted and intimidating territory.
In Camden we stayed at the Romero Center, which is housed in a former Roman Catholic convent in the center of the city. The accommodations were simple but comfortable. I was pleasantly surprised by the very effective central air conditioning. We began by learning about the center’s namesake, Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador. For much of his life Romero was very much a moderate, preferring to stay out of the political, social and economic controversies of his country. After he was chosen as archbishop (mostly because he was viewed by those in power as easily controlled) he became increasingly outspoken against the violence and injustice in his country. Romero paid the ultimate price for his commitment to the Gospel when he was assassinated in 1980 while celebrating the Eucharist.
There were several central themes to our time in Camden. One was the simple act of providing service to people very much in need. In my case I worked at an industrial kitchen in Philadelphia called “Manna” which provides healthy and tasty meals to people with AIDS, cancer and other serious illnesses. I spent another day volunteering at an adult day care center for people with physical and mental disabilities. Another day I walked the streets of Camden telling people about “Hopeworks ‘N Camden” – an organization providing computer training and employment for young people in the city. On my last day in the city I was at “New Visions,” a drop-in center for homeless people. Other members of our group helped build a playground, painted classrooms in a parochial school, worked at a huge food bank called “Philabundance” and offered the ministry of presence to people with HIV and AIDS.
Along with offering service we were challenged to get to know the people we were serving. We were inspired by these words were painted in large letters on the wall in our common meeting room: “So you say you love the poor…name them.” We were encouraged to learn people’s names and then tell others about the people we had met and the stories they had shared. On the bulletin board outside Nieman Hall you can see the names of some of those we met in Camden and Philadelphia.
The last central theme was learning about the social and economic injustices which have contributed to the poverty of Camden and about those who are fighting for social and economic justice. We learned that food stamps provide on average 87 cents per meal per person. In order to understand what that means one day we were divided into “families” of four, walked a few blocks to a local supermarket, and were each allowed to spend no more than three dollars per person. The next day we could only eat the food we had purchased. As I mentioned in a recent sermon it was a day of cheap and unsatisfying bread for many of us! We also toured Camden, driving down many streets disfigured by abandoned houses and businesses. We saw – and more importantly, smelled – the large sewage treatment plant casting a malodorous blanket over an entire neighborhood and cutting off part of the city from the waterfront.
Obviously, it would be easy to despair in the face of so much poverty and misfortune. Yet, while recognizing the enormous challenges that exist in Camden, I was energized and inspired by the experience. Wherever we worked we found so many compassionate and joyful people committed to living out the gospel challenges to love our neighbor and to offer food, drink and shelter to the poorest and most vulnerable. I was also deeply moved by our youth and adults. In many ways it was a very challenging week but each morning the members of our group went off into the unknown with enthusiasm and energy. At the end of each day they offered thoughtful reflections about their experiences. Our youth and adults were willing to not just serve the poor but name them.
Special thanks to the adults who served as chaperones and also fully participated in the experience: Geoff Brooks, Mike Cullen, Bill Geyer and Lisa Lawson. Many thanks also to the parents and spouses who sacrificed to make the mission trip possible. Thanks also to Julie Geyer and Linda Faletto for their help with fundraising. Finally, thanks to the parish for your prayers and encouragement.
The Messenger
September 2009
Mission Trip Reflections: Naming the Poor
On a Monday morning a few weeks ago I felt a mix of emotions as we prepared to leave for our mission trip to Camden. I was excited that this long-planned trip was now about to begin. I was nervous about the safety of all of us who would be spending the better part of a week in one of America’s poorest and most dangerous cities. I was also profoundly grateful for the generosity, openness and courage of the young people and adults who had volunteered to travel down the New Jersey Turnpike into what was for most of us uncharted and intimidating territory.
In Camden we stayed at the Romero Center, which is housed in a former Roman Catholic convent in the center of the city. The accommodations were simple but comfortable. I was pleasantly surprised by the very effective central air conditioning. We began by learning about the center’s namesake, Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador. For much of his life Romero was very much a moderate, preferring to stay out of the political, social and economic controversies of his country. After he was chosen as archbishop (mostly because he was viewed by those in power as easily controlled) he became increasingly outspoken against the violence and injustice in his country. Romero paid the ultimate price for his commitment to the Gospel when he was assassinated in 1980 while celebrating the Eucharist.
There were several central themes to our time in Camden. One was the simple act of providing service to people very much in need. In my case I worked at an industrial kitchen in Philadelphia called “Manna” which provides healthy and tasty meals to people with AIDS, cancer and other serious illnesses. I spent another day volunteering at an adult day care center for people with physical and mental disabilities. Another day I walked the streets of Camden telling people about “Hopeworks ‘N Camden” – an organization providing computer training and employment for young people in the city. On my last day in the city I was at “New Visions,” a drop-in center for homeless people. Other members of our group helped build a playground, painted classrooms in a parochial school, worked at a huge food bank called “Philabundance” and offered the ministry of presence to people with HIV and AIDS.
Along with offering service we were challenged to get to know the people we were serving. We were inspired by these words were painted in large letters on the wall in our common meeting room: “So you say you love the poor…name them.” We were encouraged to learn people’s names and then tell others about the people we had met and the stories they had shared. On the bulletin board outside Nieman Hall you can see the names of some of those we met in Camden and Philadelphia.
The last central theme was learning about the social and economic injustices which have contributed to the poverty of Camden and about those who are fighting for social and economic justice. We learned that food stamps provide on average 87 cents per meal per person. In order to understand what that means one day we were divided into “families” of four, walked a few blocks to a local supermarket, and were each allowed to spend no more than three dollars per person. The next day we could only eat the food we had purchased. As I mentioned in a recent sermon it was a day of cheap and unsatisfying bread for many of us! We also toured Camden, driving down many streets disfigured by abandoned houses and businesses. We saw – and more importantly, smelled – the large sewage treatment plant casting a malodorous blanket over an entire neighborhood and cutting off part of the city from the waterfront.
Obviously, it would be easy to despair in the face of so much poverty and misfortune. Yet, while recognizing the enormous challenges that exist in Camden, I was energized and inspired by the experience. Wherever we worked we found so many compassionate and joyful people committed to living out the gospel challenges to love our neighbor and to offer food, drink and shelter to the poorest and most vulnerable. I was also deeply moved by our youth and adults. In many ways it was a very challenging week but each morning the members of our group went off into the unknown with enthusiasm and energy. At the end of each day they offered thoughtful reflections about their experiences. Our youth and adults were willing to not just serve the poor but name them.
Special thanks to the adults who served as chaperones and also fully participated in the experience: Geoff Brooks, Mike Cullen, Bill Geyer and Lisa Lawson. Many thanks also to the parents and spouses who sacrificed to make the mission trip possible. Thanks also to Julie Geyer and Linda Faletto for their help with fundraising. Finally, thanks to the parish for your prayers and encouragement.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
The Grandeur of God
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
August 23, 2009
The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
Year B: Proper 16
1 Kings 8:1, 6, 10-11, 22-30, 41-43
Psalm 84
(Ephesians 6:10-20)
John 6:56-69
The Grandeur of God
Last Sunday I had so much to tell you about our mission trip to Camden that I didn’t have time to deal with our Old Testament lesson. For much of the summer we have been following the story of David – his journey from the youngest son of Jesse out tending the sheep to ruling as Israel’s king. We’ve heard about David, warts and all. We’ve heard about David, who was chosen by God to rule God’s people, but who was also capable of great selfishness and immorality.
Last week we heard about David’s death and the passing of the crown to his son Solomon. Solomon, of course, is remembered mostly for two things – his great wisdom and the construction of the Temple in Jerusalem.
Last week we heard about Solomon’s wisdom. The author of First Kings tells us that the Lord appeared to Solomon in a dream and said, “Ask what I should give you.” That’s quite a question and I’m sure many of us offered the same kind of blank check might not be quite as high-minded as Solomon.
In the dream the Lord says “Ask what I should give you.” And in reply Solomon says, “Give your servant…an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil.”
God is pleased with this answer and gives Solomon wisdom – and since Solomon hadn’t asked for them, God also gives honor and riches.
So the reign of wise Solomon begins.
Solomon’s other claim is what we heard about in today’s lesson – the construction of the Temple in Jerusalem.
The author of First Kings goes to great lengths to describe the grandeur of the Temple. It was built with enormous and expensive stone blocks. Long beams were needed to support the large building. It was decorated with gold and brass. It was designed not so much as a place to worship but as a place for God to reside.
So, in today’s lesson we hear about the priests bringing the Ark of the Covenant – the holiest object of all - into the inner sanctuary of the Temple. Of course, Solomon knew that no building can contain the God of the universe yet he spent enormous amounts of wealth to construct a temple to glorify God and to provide a place spectacular enough to remind people of the grandeur of God.
It’s a familiar story, isn’t it? For most of Christian history we have tried to construct buildings not to contain God but to glorify God and to remind people of the grandeur of God.
Maybe you’ve visited some of these spectacular, magnificent churches of Christianity. I remember visiting St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome – usually listed as the largest church in the world – and being nearly overwhelmed by its size and its grandeur. I found it disorienting – there was so much to see I wasn’t sure where to look and I wasn’t sure what was the front or the back of the building.
Maybe some of you have visited St. Paul’s Cathedral in London – a bit smaller but in the same league as St. Peter’s. Enormous amounts of resources were spent – and continue to be spent – to create a building that glorifies God and reminds people of the grandeur of God.
These holy buildings don’t have to be as large or as grand as St. Peter’s and St. Paul’s to remind us of God’s grandeur. My home parish, St. Paul’s in Jersey City, is a little wood frame Victorian located in the middle of a side street. It has many charms, but what I love the most is a round blue window with a dove representing the Holy Spirit. When the sunlight comes through that window the whole church is bathed in blue light. For me that was always a physical reminder of the grandeur of God.
And our own Grace Church isn’t too shabby, is it? A century and a half ago the people who first began building could have constructed a simple, utilitarian structure. Instead they piled up stones into something beautiful, trying to give glory to God and to remind people of God’s grandeur.
And back in the 1950s the parishioners who expanded this church could have just built something plain and relatively inexpensive to accommodate the growing congregation. (It was not exactly a golden age of church architecture!) Instead they gave as much as they could to create something beautiful to glorify God to remind themselves and future generations of the grandeur of God.
And this is all good. Certainly one of the most attractive aspects of Anglicanism and the Episcopal Church is what’s called “the beauty of holiness.” We go to great lengths to make our churches beautiful and to make our worship beautiful. We wear colorful vestments, use silver vessels and brass candlesticks, and sing gorgeous hymns all to glorify God and to remind ourselves of the grandeur of God.
Each week the altar guild polishes and irons and the choirs rehearse all to make what we do today beautiful.
This is all good, but there is an obvious danger too. The danger is that we fall too much in love with our buildings, our shiny vessels and our lovely music. The danger is that the grandeur of our things distracts us from the grandeur of God.
Today’s gospel lesson is a powerful reminder of where we truly find the grandeur of God. We find the grandeur of God in Jesus. We find the grandeur of God in being part of the Body of Christ.
For the past few weeks we’ve been making our way through the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel. We’ve been hearing this deep and profound meditation on Jesus as the Bread of Life. And we’ve heard that when we eat Jesus’ body and drink Jesus’ blood then we become part of the Body of Christ – we abide in Jesus and Jesus abides in us.
John tells us that some of the disciples said, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?”
And, let’s face it, the Eucharist is difficult to understand. The Eucharist is difficult if we try to convince ourselves that when we eat this little sliver of bread and take a little sip of wine we are really taking the body and blood of Christ into our bodies.
But the good news is we don’t have to convince ourselves of anything. Instead all we need to do is be open just enough to the power and grandeur of God working within us. In the gospel Jesus is clear that faith is a gift from God. Faith is not something that we can talk ourselves into. Faith is not something that we can convince ourselves of.
If we are open to the gift of faith then we find the grandeur of God in Jesus. We find the grandeur of God in being part of the Body of Christ.
We are reminded of the grandeur of God in our beautiful churches but we find the grandeur of God when we go out and live as the Body of Christ in the world. As the Body of Christ in the world we are able to see the grandeur of God all around us.
As the 19th Century Jesuit poet Gerard Manley Hopkins famously wrote, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God.”
When we live as the Body of Christ in the world we find the grandeur of God in seemingly simple moments. Just this past week I found the grandeur of God at the Community Soup Kitchen in Morristown when I looked down the line and saw so many of our young people eager to serve some of the poorest in our midst.
I certainly found the grandeur of God during that week in Camden when our young people and the adult chaperones threw themselves into a frightening unknown, willing to be bold for Christ.
We find the grandeur of God when parishioners rally around one of our own who has been hurt and is suffering. We find the grandeur of God when people visit a parishioner in the hospital or call someone who is lonely. We find the grandeur of God when some among us work hard to help someone dig her way out of crushing debt. We find the grandeur of God when some among us use their expertise to try to help churches in our diocese less fortunate than Grace. We find the grandeur of God every time someone drops a box of cereal or a jar of peanut butter into the Food for Friends bin.
Solomon built the Temple to glorify God and to remind people of the grandeur of God. We build our churches and take care with our worship to glorify God and to remind ourselves of the grandeur of God.
But we truly find the grandeur of God in Jesus. We truly find the grandeur of God in being part of the Body of Christ.
We find the grandeur of God when we go out and live as the Body of Christ. And when we go out and live as the Body of Christ we find that, indeed, the world is charged with the grandeur of God.
Amen.
August 23, 2009
The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
Year B: Proper 16
1 Kings 8:1, 6, 10-11, 22-30, 41-43
Psalm 84
(Ephesians 6:10-20)
John 6:56-69
The Grandeur of God
Last Sunday I had so much to tell you about our mission trip to Camden that I didn’t have time to deal with our Old Testament lesson. For much of the summer we have been following the story of David – his journey from the youngest son of Jesse out tending the sheep to ruling as Israel’s king. We’ve heard about David, warts and all. We’ve heard about David, who was chosen by God to rule God’s people, but who was also capable of great selfishness and immorality.
Last week we heard about David’s death and the passing of the crown to his son Solomon. Solomon, of course, is remembered mostly for two things – his great wisdom and the construction of the Temple in Jerusalem.
Last week we heard about Solomon’s wisdom. The author of First Kings tells us that the Lord appeared to Solomon in a dream and said, “Ask what I should give you.” That’s quite a question and I’m sure many of us offered the same kind of blank check might not be quite as high-minded as Solomon.
In the dream the Lord says “Ask what I should give you.” And in reply Solomon says, “Give your servant…an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil.”
God is pleased with this answer and gives Solomon wisdom – and since Solomon hadn’t asked for them, God also gives honor and riches.
So the reign of wise Solomon begins.
Solomon’s other claim is what we heard about in today’s lesson – the construction of the Temple in Jerusalem.
The author of First Kings goes to great lengths to describe the grandeur of the Temple. It was built with enormous and expensive stone blocks. Long beams were needed to support the large building. It was decorated with gold and brass. It was designed not so much as a place to worship but as a place for God to reside.
So, in today’s lesson we hear about the priests bringing the Ark of the Covenant – the holiest object of all - into the inner sanctuary of the Temple. Of course, Solomon knew that no building can contain the God of the universe yet he spent enormous amounts of wealth to construct a temple to glorify God and to provide a place spectacular enough to remind people of the grandeur of God.
It’s a familiar story, isn’t it? For most of Christian history we have tried to construct buildings not to contain God but to glorify God and to remind people of the grandeur of God.
Maybe you’ve visited some of these spectacular, magnificent churches of Christianity. I remember visiting St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome – usually listed as the largest church in the world – and being nearly overwhelmed by its size and its grandeur. I found it disorienting – there was so much to see I wasn’t sure where to look and I wasn’t sure what was the front or the back of the building.
Maybe some of you have visited St. Paul’s Cathedral in London – a bit smaller but in the same league as St. Peter’s. Enormous amounts of resources were spent – and continue to be spent – to create a building that glorifies God and reminds people of the grandeur of God.
These holy buildings don’t have to be as large or as grand as St. Peter’s and St. Paul’s to remind us of God’s grandeur. My home parish, St. Paul’s in Jersey City, is a little wood frame Victorian located in the middle of a side street. It has many charms, but what I love the most is a round blue window with a dove representing the Holy Spirit. When the sunlight comes through that window the whole church is bathed in blue light. For me that was always a physical reminder of the grandeur of God.
And our own Grace Church isn’t too shabby, is it? A century and a half ago the people who first began building could have constructed a simple, utilitarian structure. Instead they piled up stones into something beautiful, trying to give glory to God and to remind people of God’s grandeur.
And back in the 1950s the parishioners who expanded this church could have just built something plain and relatively inexpensive to accommodate the growing congregation. (It was not exactly a golden age of church architecture!) Instead they gave as much as they could to create something beautiful to glorify God to remind themselves and future generations of the grandeur of God.
And this is all good. Certainly one of the most attractive aspects of Anglicanism and the Episcopal Church is what’s called “the beauty of holiness.” We go to great lengths to make our churches beautiful and to make our worship beautiful. We wear colorful vestments, use silver vessels and brass candlesticks, and sing gorgeous hymns all to glorify God and to remind ourselves of the grandeur of God.
Each week the altar guild polishes and irons and the choirs rehearse all to make what we do today beautiful.
This is all good, but there is an obvious danger too. The danger is that we fall too much in love with our buildings, our shiny vessels and our lovely music. The danger is that the grandeur of our things distracts us from the grandeur of God.
Today’s gospel lesson is a powerful reminder of where we truly find the grandeur of God. We find the grandeur of God in Jesus. We find the grandeur of God in being part of the Body of Christ.
For the past few weeks we’ve been making our way through the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel. We’ve been hearing this deep and profound meditation on Jesus as the Bread of Life. And we’ve heard that when we eat Jesus’ body and drink Jesus’ blood then we become part of the Body of Christ – we abide in Jesus and Jesus abides in us.
John tells us that some of the disciples said, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?”
And, let’s face it, the Eucharist is difficult to understand. The Eucharist is difficult if we try to convince ourselves that when we eat this little sliver of bread and take a little sip of wine we are really taking the body and blood of Christ into our bodies.
But the good news is we don’t have to convince ourselves of anything. Instead all we need to do is be open just enough to the power and grandeur of God working within us. In the gospel Jesus is clear that faith is a gift from God. Faith is not something that we can talk ourselves into. Faith is not something that we can convince ourselves of.
If we are open to the gift of faith then we find the grandeur of God in Jesus. We find the grandeur of God in being part of the Body of Christ.
We are reminded of the grandeur of God in our beautiful churches but we find the grandeur of God when we go out and live as the Body of Christ in the world. As the Body of Christ in the world we are able to see the grandeur of God all around us.
As the 19th Century Jesuit poet Gerard Manley Hopkins famously wrote, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God.”
When we live as the Body of Christ in the world we find the grandeur of God in seemingly simple moments. Just this past week I found the grandeur of God at the Community Soup Kitchen in Morristown when I looked down the line and saw so many of our young people eager to serve some of the poorest in our midst.
I certainly found the grandeur of God during that week in Camden when our young people and the adult chaperones threw themselves into a frightening unknown, willing to be bold for Christ.
We find the grandeur of God when parishioners rally around one of our own who has been hurt and is suffering. We find the grandeur of God when people visit a parishioner in the hospital or call someone who is lonely. We find the grandeur of God when some among us work hard to help someone dig her way out of crushing debt. We find the grandeur of God when some among us use their expertise to try to help churches in our diocese less fortunate than Grace. We find the grandeur of God every time someone drops a box of cereal or a jar of peanut butter into the Food for Friends bin.
Solomon built the Temple to glorify God and to remind people of the grandeur of God. We build our churches and take care with our worship to glorify God and to remind ourselves of the grandeur of God.
But we truly find the grandeur of God in Jesus. We truly find the grandeur of God in being part of the Body of Christ.
We find the grandeur of God when we go out and live as the Body of Christ. And when we go out and live as the Body of Christ we find that, indeed, the world is charged with the grandeur of God.
Amen.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Invincible
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
August 16, 2009
Year B: The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost – Proper 15
1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14
Psalm 111
(Ephesians 5:15-20)
John 6:51-58
Invincible
Each Sunday over the past few weeks we’ve slowly been making our way through the sixth chapter of the Gospel of John. In his account of the Last Supper, the Evangelist John doesn’t include the institution of the Eucharist. There’s no mention of Jesus saying, “This is my body. This is my blood. Do this in memory of me.” John describes the foot washing instead. But, in a way the fourth gospel makes up for that omission in this long section which is a rich and deep meditation on Jesus as the Bread of Life.
Two weeks ago we heard Jesus tell the crowds that they should focus not so much on the bread that fills their stomachs but rather seek the bread that comes down from heaven. Last week we heard Jesus boldly proclaim, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
Jesus scandalized many who heard those words. They were scandalized when Jesus reminded them that their ancestors who ate the manna in the desert all died eventually but then insists that those who believe in him - those who eat the bread of life - will live forever.
And then today we hear very powerful and vivid Eucharistic language when Jesus says “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”
You can imagine how the first readers and hearers of those words were confused and scandalized. Jesus is the living bread that comes down from heaven? And those who eat this living bread – eat this flesh – will live forever? How can this be?
They still had a lot to learn about the cheap bread of the world and the costly bread Jesus offers to the world.
We still have a lot to learn about the cheap bread of the world and the costly bread that Jesus offers to the world. Today I’d like to tell you what I learned about cheap bread and costly bread during our recent mission trip to Camden.
There is so much to tell you about the trip. Going into this experience I knew that we would be in one of the very poorest and most dangerous cities in the country. But having facts in my head really didn’t prepare me for the reality of actually being there – seeing block after block of desolation. Having facts in my head didn’t prepare me for smelling the reek of the sewage treatment plant that blankets an entire city neighborhood – invading and coating the homes of all who live there.
Having facts in my head also didn’t prepare me for the hopeful signs that I saw. At shelters and drop-in centers and food banks and day care centers we met people who have committed their lives to helping people in Camden. And at those places we met Camden residents who were good, decent people trying to survive against some awfully tough odds.
Back when Camden was thriving as a prosperous industrial city, Walt Whitman referred to it as the “city invincible.” The “city invincible.” That’s still Camden’s motto. Today there is a sad irony to that description. During our time there we saw a city not quite defeated, but all too vulnerable – vulnerable to a changed economy, vulnerable to a lack of compassion, vulnerable to poor decisions, vulnerable to a lack of leadership.
Like so many places in our nation, Camden cries out for leaders with – if not the wisdom of Solomon – at least honest leaders with genuine concern for the least among us.
Even with the fragile signs of hope sprouting here and there in the city, overall I found the experience to be nearly overwhelming. The need is so great, the damage so severe. Where will we find the strength and power to heal this broken place?
One day we did a little exercise to give us a small sense of what it’s like to be poor in Camden. We were told the federal government’s food assistance program provides 87 cents per person per meal. All of us on the mission trip were broken into “families” of four with each member of the family having three dollars to buy food for a day. We could have unlimited water, salt and a small amount of butter. Otherwise, for one day we could eat only whatever our twelve dollars was able to buy.
We walked a few blocks to one of the three supermarkets in a city with something like 80,000 people. As soon as we walked in a number of us noticed the smell the meat department although it was not near the front of the store. If the meat hadn’t already spoiled, it wasn’t far from it.
But, for us that didn’t really matter because our meager budget ruled out buying meat anyway. Now some groups did better than others – some managed to buy eggs and some fresh fruit with their limited funds.
My family was not so clever. We purchased a box of pop tarts, peanut butter and jelly, a loaf of cheap store-brand white bread, a box of off-brand macaroni and cheese…and we treated ourselves to a bag of mini chips ahoy cookies.
That’s all we would be eating the next day.
Now, I’ll admit, I hadn’t had a pop tart in a long time – and the next morning my pop tart was pretty tasty. It filled my stomach and I guess the sugar gave me a burst of energy. So I began the day feeling pretty satisfied and hopeful that this diet wouldn’t be so difficult.
That day I was working over in Philadelphia at a place called Manna, appropriately enough. It is a large industrial kitchen and food preparation center that provides meals for people suffering from AIDS, cancer and other serious illnesses. When I first got there I did feel a few pangs of hunger, but I thought the sight of all this industrially-produced food would keep me from getting too hungry.
As it turns out, Manna provides what looked like and especially smelled like incredibly delicious meals. My group estimated that we helped to prepare about fifteen hundred meals that day. As we prepared tray after tray the slices of pork smelled delicious. Apples with cinnamon – delicious. Peaches – delicious. Even the vegetables – delicious.
By our lunch break I had long since burned through my pop tarts. I was out of energy. For lunch I had a peanut and butter sandwich on cheap white bread, a handful of mini chips ahoy, and a bottle of water. The bread was soft and springy and easy to eat. I finished my lunch in about 9 seconds.
All that cheap bread filled me up but I knew it wouldn’t last. The cheap bread wouldn’t give me the strength and power that was needed.
No surprise, that evening my stomach was growling when I sat down for my dinner – a box of macaroni and cheese split four ways and a handful of mini chips ahoy for dessert. I tried to fill up with even more cheap bread.
I ended the day really looking forward to the end of this exercise and the next day’s breakfast. The cheap bread just wasn’t enough.
And what’s true for our bodies is also true for our souls. The cheap bread is never enough.
The first readers and hearers of the Gospel of John lived in difficult times. The problems and challenges they faced must have often seemed overwhelming. Everyday life was difficult enough. Placing faith in Jesus and trying to live according to his teaching meant putting everything on the line, including life itself.
Oh, just like today there was plenty of cheap bread around. There was the cheap bread of caring only about yourself and not your neighbor. There was the cheap bread of despising people who were different. There was the cheap bread of focusing solely on acquiring material possessions.
Just like today that kind of cheap bread gives a rush – but it doesn’t last and it’s not enough. And it’s certainly not the right kind of bread if we want to follow Jesus.
To live the Christian life the first hearers of the gospel needed the costly bread.
To live the Christian life we need the costly bread – the bread that comes at the great cost of God living and dying and rising again among us.
In the Body of Christ – in this costly bread – we get the strength and power we need to be fully alive – to live not just for ourselves but for our brothers and sisters – especially the poorest and most vulnerable. We get the strength and power we need to live for all the Camdens of the world – even the Camdens right here in Madison.
When we eat this costly bread we become the Body of Christ in the world.
So once again today we gather at the table and eat this costly bread. And then we will go out and be the Body of Christ in the world
Even if we live in difficult times and our problems seem overwhelming, we can have confidence because Jesus has promised that we who eat this costly bread will have the strength we need – and more than that - we will live forever.
We who eat this costly bread are a people invincible.
Amen.
August 16, 2009
Year B: The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost – Proper 15
1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14
Psalm 111
(Ephesians 5:15-20)
John 6:51-58
Invincible
Each Sunday over the past few weeks we’ve slowly been making our way through the sixth chapter of the Gospel of John. In his account of the Last Supper, the Evangelist John doesn’t include the institution of the Eucharist. There’s no mention of Jesus saying, “This is my body. This is my blood. Do this in memory of me.” John describes the foot washing instead. But, in a way the fourth gospel makes up for that omission in this long section which is a rich and deep meditation on Jesus as the Bread of Life.
Two weeks ago we heard Jesus tell the crowds that they should focus not so much on the bread that fills their stomachs but rather seek the bread that comes down from heaven. Last week we heard Jesus boldly proclaim, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
Jesus scandalized many who heard those words. They were scandalized when Jesus reminded them that their ancestors who ate the manna in the desert all died eventually but then insists that those who believe in him - those who eat the bread of life - will live forever.
And then today we hear very powerful and vivid Eucharistic language when Jesus says “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”
You can imagine how the first readers and hearers of those words were confused and scandalized. Jesus is the living bread that comes down from heaven? And those who eat this living bread – eat this flesh – will live forever? How can this be?
They still had a lot to learn about the cheap bread of the world and the costly bread Jesus offers to the world.
We still have a lot to learn about the cheap bread of the world and the costly bread that Jesus offers to the world. Today I’d like to tell you what I learned about cheap bread and costly bread during our recent mission trip to Camden.
There is so much to tell you about the trip. Going into this experience I knew that we would be in one of the very poorest and most dangerous cities in the country. But having facts in my head really didn’t prepare me for the reality of actually being there – seeing block after block of desolation. Having facts in my head didn’t prepare me for smelling the reek of the sewage treatment plant that blankets an entire city neighborhood – invading and coating the homes of all who live there.
Having facts in my head also didn’t prepare me for the hopeful signs that I saw. At shelters and drop-in centers and food banks and day care centers we met people who have committed their lives to helping people in Camden. And at those places we met Camden residents who were good, decent people trying to survive against some awfully tough odds.
Back when Camden was thriving as a prosperous industrial city, Walt Whitman referred to it as the “city invincible.” The “city invincible.” That’s still Camden’s motto. Today there is a sad irony to that description. During our time there we saw a city not quite defeated, but all too vulnerable – vulnerable to a changed economy, vulnerable to a lack of compassion, vulnerable to poor decisions, vulnerable to a lack of leadership.
Like so many places in our nation, Camden cries out for leaders with – if not the wisdom of Solomon – at least honest leaders with genuine concern for the least among us.
Even with the fragile signs of hope sprouting here and there in the city, overall I found the experience to be nearly overwhelming. The need is so great, the damage so severe. Where will we find the strength and power to heal this broken place?
One day we did a little exercise to give us a small sense of what it’s like to be poor in Camden. We were told the federal government’s food assistance program provides 87 cents per person per meal. All of us on the mission trip were broken into “families” of four with each member of the family having three dollars to buy food for a day. We could have unlimited water, salt and a small amount of butter. Otherwise, for one day we could eat only whatever our twelve dollars was able to buy.
We walked a few blocks to one of the three supermarkets in a city with something like 80,000 people. As soon as we walked in a number of us noticed the smell the meat department although it was not near the front of the store. If the meat hadn’t already spoiled, it wasn’t far from it.
But, for us that didn’t really matter because our meager budget ruled out buying meat anyway. Now some groups did better than others – some managed to buy eggs and some fresh fruit with their limited funds.
My family was not so clever. We purchased a box of pop tarts, peanut butter and jelly, a loaf of cheap store-brand white bread, a box of off-brand macaroni and cheese…and we treated ourselves to a bag of mini chips ahoy cookies.
That’s all we would be eating the next day.
Now, I’ll admit, I hadn’t had a pop tart in a long time – and the next morning my pop tart was pretty tasty. It filled my stomach and I guess the sugar gave me a burst of energy. So I began the day feeling pretty satisfied and hopeful that this diet wouldn’t be so difficult.
That day I was working over in Philadelphia at a place called Manna, appropriately enough. It is a large industrial kitchen and food preparation center that provides meals for people suffering from AIDS, cancer and other serious illnesses. When I first got there I did feel a few pangs of hunger, but I thought the sight of all this industrially-produced food would keep me from getting too hungry.
As it turns out, Manna provides what looked like and especially smelled like incredibly delicious meals. My group estimated that we helped to prepare about fifteen hundred meals that day. As we prepared tray after tray the slices of pork smelled delicious. Apples with cinnamon – delicious. Peaches – delicious. Even the vegetables – delicious.
By our lunch break I had long since burned through my pop tarts. I was out of energy. For lunch I had a peanut and butter sandwich on cheap white bread, a handful of mini chips ahoy, and a bottle of water. The bread was soft and springy and easy to eat. I finished my lunch in about 9 seconds.
All that cheap bread filled me up but I knew it wouldn’t last. The cheap bread wouldn’t give me the strength and power that was needed.
No surprise, that evening my stomach was growling when I sat down for my dinner – a box of macaroni and cheese split four ways and a handful of mini chips ahoy for dessert. I tried to fill up with even more cheap bread.
I ended the day really looking forward to the end of this exercise and the next day’s breakfast. The cheap bread just wasn’t enough.
And what’s true for our bodies is also true for our souls. The cheap bread is never enough.
The first readers and hearers of the Gospel of John lived in difficult times. The problems and challenges they faced must have often seemed overwhelming. Everyday life was difficult enough. Placing faith in Jesus and trying to live according to his teaching meant putting everything on the line, including life itself.
Oh, just like today there was plenty of cheap bread around. There was the cheap bread of caring only about yourself and not your neighbor. There was the cheap bread of despising people who were different. There was the cheap bread of focusing solely on acquiring material possessions.
Just like today that kind of cheap bread gives a rush – but it doesn’t last and it’s not enough. And it’s certainly not the right kind of bread if we want to follow Jesus.
To live the Christian life the first hearers of the gospel needed the costly bread.
To live the Christian life we need the costly bread – the bread that comes at the great cost of God living and dying and rising again among us.
In the Body of Christ – in this costly bread – we get the strength and power we need to be fully alive – to live not just for ourselves but for our brothers and sisters – especially the poorest and most vulnerable. We get the strength and power we need to live for all the Camdens of the world – even the Camdens right here in Madison.
When we eat this costly bread we become the Body of Christ in the world.
So once again today we gather at the table and eat this costly bread. And then we will go out and be the Body of Christ in the world
Even if we live in difficult times and our problems seem overwhelming, we can have confidence because Jesus has promised that we who eat this costly bread will have the strength we need – and more than that - we will live forever.
We who eat this costly bread are a people invincible.
Amen.
Sunday, August 02, 2009
Setting Priorities
Church of the Good Shepherd, Ringwood NJ
August 2, 2009
The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
Year B: Proper 13
2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a
Psalm 51:1-13
Ephesians 4:1-16
John 6:24-25
Setting Priorities
Before I got into the priest business I was a high school history teacher. It was a job that I enjoyed very much. I liked working with kids. I liked the subject that I taught. I liked having the summer off. In fact, I’m still adjusting to getting up and going to work in the summer!
It wasn’t until I left teaching, however, that I realized one of the best parts of teaching. As a teacher it is very easy, very straightforward, to set priorities. Each school day, of course, is broken up into different class periods. So for 40 minutes I would teach United States history. Then a bell would ring and I’d stop doing that and switch to teaching World Civilizations. Later another bell would ring and it would be time for lunch. And then finally at the end of the school day a bell would ring and I knew it was time to go home.
I spent a good bit of time after school grading papers and planning lessons. And even then it was easy to set priorities. The tests and quizzes that were the oldest got graded first. The classes that were coming up next needed to be planned first.
Yes, as a teacher it was very easy to set priorities.
After I was ordained and got my job at Grace Church in Madison, I had a little trouble setting priorities. Oh, sure, I knew that if I was preaching I needed to prepare my sermon before church on Sunday morning. And if there was a meeting at a certain time, then I needed to be at the right place at the right time.
But aside from that my job doesn’t have a lot of structure and there certainly isn’t a bell that rings telling me to stop what I’m doing and move on to the next thing. So, especially in my first months, I often found myself sitting at my desk wondering what I should do first. What’s most important? Should I do some planning for the youth group? Should I go visit some parishioners in the hospital or a nursing home? Should I work at my article for the parish newsletter? Should I do some reading or thinking? Should I set aside some time for prayer? Should I try to carve out some time to spend with my wife?
All good things – but what’s most important? How do I set priorities? After a while I got the hang of it, but it took some time for me to figure out how to set priorities as a priest.
I guess that many of us struggle with setting priorities. We have trouble deciding what’s most important in our lives.
Sometimes we set exactly the wrong priorities – we try to use people for our own benefit or pleasure. And this leads to much pain and sorrow.
And other times we set wrong priorities by choosing something that’s good – but not really the best or most important thing.
Today’s lessons have something important to say about setting priorities – deciding what’s most important in our lives.
These past few weeks we’ve been hearing the story of King David. We heard how he was selected by God to replace Saul as the king of Israel. We heard the famous story of how he defeated Goliath the giant. We heard how he led a triumphant parade, including the Ark of the Covenant – for the people of Israel the holiest object in the universe. He led this parade into his city, into Jerusalem, to show that he was God’s choice to lead the people.
But then things start to go terribly wrong. The truth is that David is going to abuse God’s trust and David is going to abuse his royal power. David sets the wrong priorities. Instead of serving God and serving God’s people, David seeks his own pleasure.
Last Sunday we heard the story of how David desired the beautiful Bathsheba. The only problem was that Bathsheba was married to Uriah the Hittite. But if you’re the king and your priority is your own pleasure and desire – if that’s what’s most important – then the fact that she’s married is no problem at all.
And so David arranges things so Uriah is killed in battle. And then David can take Bathsheba as his wife.
Which brings us to today’s lesson from the Old Testament.
Through the prophet Nathan God reminds David of all that God had given to him and says God would have given much more, too. But, David chose to reject God and God’s Word. David set exactly the wrong priority. David didn’t realize what was most important.
Instead of serving God and God’s people, David decided his own pleasure was most important.
And David faces the sickening reality of what he’s done – David faces the consequences of setting wrong priorities. All these centuries later we can hear the regret and imagine the sick feeling in his stomach when David says, “I have sinned against the Lord.”
David set as his priority something that was clearly wrong. Sometimes we do that, but I bet more often we set as our priority something that is good, but is not really the best or most important thing.
Which brings us to today’s gospel lesson.
The gospel picks up right after the miracle of the loaves and fishes, or the feeding of the five thousand. This is one of Jesus’ most important miracles and in fact the only one that is recorded in all four of the gospels.
On the surface this is a miracle about literally feeding people who are hungry. It’s not only a symbolic action – there’s real bread and real fish involved. While before people stomachs were rumbling with hunger now they are stuffed and I imagine them a little sleepy the way we get after a big meal.
The miracle is about real bread and fish but it’s about more than that. It’s about God’s overflowing abundance. Just when it seems like there’s just not enough, God is able to provide more than we can imagine and more than we need.
And the miracle of the loaves and fishes is about Jesus as the bread of life – Jesus who feeds us in the deepest and most profound way - Jesus who feeds our souls.
But for the people who’ve been fed the most important thing, their top priority, is keeping their bellies full. That’s definitely a good and very important thing, but it’s not the most important. Satisfying our physical needs is not the most important thing.
Anyway, even a big meal satisfies for only a while and so today’s lesson picks up the next day when the people are searching for Jesus and the disciples.
Jesus, of course, gets why they’re looking for him so eagerly. He says to the crowd, “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.”
And at the end of today’s lesson Jesus tells the crowd, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
As Christians, Jesus needs to be our top priority. Jesus is what’s most important.
But the truth is in our daily lives many, if not all of us, forget this essential truth. We forget that Jesus needs to be our top priority and we put other things – both good and maybe not so good – in that top slot.
And that’s one of the most important reasons why we gather in church on Sunday. We gather to be reminded of the power of Jesus, to be reminded of God’s overflowing love and abundance, to be reminded of the grace that is being poured out upon us right here and now.
We gather to hear God’s word – to be reminded of God’s law and God’s history of reaching out to God’s people.
We gather to receive the bread and wine – Christ’s body and blood – to strengthen us as we face the challenges of life and to help us to set priorities – to help us remember what’s most important.
So today let us give thanks for all the good gifts God has given us. Let us give thanks for the loaves and the fishes. Let us give thanks for Jesus, the Bread of Life.
And let us ask God’s help as we make our way in the world, setting our priorities and deciding what’s most important.
Amen.
August 2, 2009
The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
Year B: Proper 13
2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a
Psalm 51:1-13
Ephesians 4:1-16
John 6:24-25
Setting Priorities
Before I got into the priest business I was a high school history teacher. It was a job that I enjoyed very much. I liked working with kids. I liked the subject that I taught. I liked having the summer off. In fact, I’m still adjusting to getting up and going to work in the summer!
It wasn’t until I left teaching, however, that I realized one of the best parts of teaching. As a teacher it is very easy, very straightforward, to set priorities. Each school day, of course, is broken up into different class periods. So for 40 minutes I would teach United States history. Then a bell would ring and I’d stop doing that and switch to teaching World Civilizations. Later another bell would ring and it would be time for lunch. And then finally at the end of the school day a bell would ring and I knew it was time to go home.
I spent a good bit of time after school grading papers and planning lessons. And even then it was easy to set priorities. The tests and quizzes that were the oldest got graded first. The classes that were coming up next needed to be planned first.
Yes, as a teacher it was very easy to set priorities.
After I was ordained and got my job at Grace Church in Madison, I had a little trouble setting priorities. Oh, sure, I knew that if I was preaching I needed to prepare my sermon before church on Sunday morning. And if there was a meeting at a certain time, then I needed to be at the right place at the right time.
But aside from that my job doesn’t have a lot of structure and there certainly isn’t a bell that rings telling me to stop what I’m doing and move on to the next thing. So, especially in my first months, I often found myself sitting at my desk wondering what I should do first. What’s most important? Should I do some planning for the youth group? Should I go visit some parishioners in the hospital or a nursing home? Should I work at my article for the parish newsletter? Should I do some reading or thinking? Should I set aside some time for prayer? Should I try to carve out some time to spend with my wife?
All good things – but what’s most important? How do I set priorities? After a while I got the hang of it, but it took some time for me to figure out how to set priorities as a priest.
I guess that many of us struggle with setting priorities. We have trouble deciding what’s most important in our lives.
Sometimes we set exactly the wrong priorities – we try to use people for our own benefit or pleasure. And this leads to much pain and sorrow.
And other times we set wrong priorities by choosing something that’s good – but not really the best or most important thing.
Today’s lessons have something important to say about setting priorities – deciding what’s most important in our lives.
These past few weeks we’ve been hearing the story of King David. We heard how he was selected by God to replace Saul as the king of Israel. We heard the famous story of how he defeated Goliath the giant. We heard how he led a triumphant parade, including the Ark of the Covenant – for the people of Israel the holiest object in the universe. He led this parade into his city, into Jerusalem, to show that he was God’s choice to lead the people.
But then things start to go terribly wrong. The truth is that David is going to abuse God’s trust and David is going to abuse his royal power. David sets the wrong priorities. Instead of serving God and serving God’s people, David seeks his own pleasure.
Last Sunday we heard the story of how David desired the beautiful Bathsheba. The only problem was that Bathsheba was married to Uriah the Hittite. But if you’re the king and your priority is your own pleasure and desire – if that’s what’s most important – then the fact that she’s married is no problem at all.
And so David arranges things so Uriah is killed in battle. And then David can take Bathsheba as his wife.
Which brings us to today’s lesson from the Old Testament.
Through the prophet Nathan God reminds David of all that God had given to him and says God would have given much more, too. But, David chose to reject God and God’s Word. David set exactly the wrong priority. David didn’t realize what was most important.
Instead of serving God and God’s people, David decided his own pleasure was most important.
And David faces the sickening reality of what he’s done – David faces the consequences of setting wrong priorities. All these centuries later we can hear the regret and imagine the sick feeling in his stomach when David says, “I have sinned against the Lord.”
David set as his priority something that was clearly wrong. Sometimes we do that, but I bet more often we set as our priority something that is good, but is not really the best or most important thing.
Which brings us to today’s gospel lesson.
The gospel picks up right after the miracle of the loaves and fishes, or the feeding of the five thousand. This is one of Jesus’ most important miracles and in fact the only one that is recorded in all four of the gospels.
On the surface this is a miracle about literally feeding people who are hungry. It’s not only a symbolic action – there’s real bread and real fish involved. While before people stomachs were rumbling with hunger now they are stuffed and I imagine them a little sleepy the way we get after a big meal.
The miracle is about real bread and fish but it’s about more than that. It’s about God’s overflowing abundance. Just when it seems like there’s just not enough, God is able to provide more than we can imagine and more than we need.
And the miracle of the loaves and fishes is about Jesus as the bread of life – Jesus who feeds us in the deepest and most profound way - Jesus who feeds our souls.
But for the people who’ve been fed the most important thing, their top priority, is keeping their bellies full. That’s definitely a good and very important thing, but it’s not the most important. Satisfying our physical needs is not the most important thing.
Anyway, even a big meal satisfies for only a while and so today’s lesson picks up the next day when the people are searching for Jesus and the disciples.
Jesus, of course, gets why they’re looking for him so eagerly. He says to the crowd, “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.”
And at the end of today’s lesson Jesus tells the crowd, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
As Christians, Jesus needs to be our top priority. Jesus is what’s most important.
But the truth is in our daily lives many, if not all of us, forget this essential truth. We forget that Jesus needs to be our top priority and we put other things – both good and maybe not so good – in that top slot.
And that’s one of the most important reasons why we gather in church on Sunday. We gather to be reminded of the power of Jesus, to be reminded of God’s overflowing love and abundance, to be reminded of the grace that is being poured out upon us right here and now.
We gather to hear God’s word – to be reminded of God’s law and God’s history of reaching out to God’s people.
We gather to receive the bread and wine – Christ’s body and blood – to strengthen us as we face the challenges of life and to help us to set priorities – to help us remember what’s most important.
So today let us give thanks for all the good gifts God has given us. Let us give thanks for the loaves and the fishes. Let us give thanks for Jesus, the Bread of Life.
And let us ask God’s help as we make our way in the world, setting our priorities and deciding what’s most important.
Amen.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Building a House for God
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
July 19, 2009
The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
Year B: Proper 11
2 Samuel 7:1-14a
Psalm 89:20-37
Ephesians 2:11-212
Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Building a House for God
Well, it’s been quite a week. Many of you know that we had Vacation Bible School, which was a really great experience for me and I think for the children and other adults who participated. Since in the past I had managed to avoid vacation bible school, I wasn’t really sure what to expect.
I knew this year’s theme was “Paul and the Underground Church” and I had looked at some of the program materials ahead of time. That was about it. I did know that with Mary Lea in charge it was going to be very well done. And, sure enough, Mary Lea and the parent volunteers did a fantastic job planning the week and creating a really spectacular environment in Grace Hall. The colorful tents and mats really fired up our imaginations and helped us to pretend that we were in ancient Rome. The older youth who served as counselors were so good with the children – they were both leaders and also role models.
I mentioned last week that my job at VBS was to play St. Paul. The children’s chapel was transformed into Paul’s house in Rome where he was being held under house arrest by his Roman guard Brutus, well-played by Eric Roper. Each day groups of children would come downstairs to Paul’s cave-like house and learn a little bit about Paul’s life and talk about some key parts of the Christian life.
We talked about how God’s love for us is a gift and how we are changed by God’s love and called to share God’s love with other people.
I like that these conversations about God’s love took place in what was supposed to be Paul’s house. I like that because one of the ways we can describe recognizing God’s love for us and sharing God’s love for us is building a house for God.
Today’s lessons begin with the very literal idea of building a house for God but then we move to a less-literal and much more powerful understanding of what it means to build a house for God. By recognizing God’s love for us and sharing that love we build a house for God – we help the world to see that God lives right here in the world among us.
In our reading from Second Book of Samuel we continue with the story of David. If you were in church last Sunday you may remember how King David led a triumphant parade with 30,000 men of Israel and the Ark of the Covenant into Jerusalem.
Remember the ark was believed to be the most sacred object in the universe – containing the stone tablets of the Ten Commandments, but also the very presence of God.
Last week I talked about how, in a sense, David was using this most sacred object as a political prop to let everyone know that he was God’s anointed, and, perhaps, warning any opponents that God was on David’s side.
Today we pick up the story in Jerusalem where David the king is living in “a house of cedar” and decides that he should build a house for God. And David means that literally – rather than keeping the ark in a tent David wants to construct a building where God can live.
At first the prophet Nathan encourages David, saying, “Go, do all that you have in mind; for the Lord is with you.”
But God has much bigger ideas of what it means to build a house for God’s Self. David has a very limited idea of God’s house – it would be house not unlike David’s own house.
God tells Nathan that instead of David building a house of cedar for him, God will build a house for David – a house not made of cedar but a royal dynasty.
It’s going to take more than David to build a house for God.
As Christians we know that ultimately God will use the house of David to give the greatest sign of God’s love by becoming a human being in Jesus of Nazareth, born of the House of David.
In our gospel lesson we hear an example of the ever expanding idea of building a house for God, helping the world to see that God lives right here in the world among us.
In his life and ministry, Jesus taught and healed and revealed the gift of God’s love for us. But his work was not just limited to his own teaching and healing. Jesus also sends out his disciples to continue his work – to continue building a house for God, helping the world to see that God lives right here in the world among us.
Earlier in Mark’s gospel the apostles had been commissioned by Jesus to continue his work. Mark tells us that the twelve “went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.”
In other words, the twelve went out and helped to reveal God’s love for us and God’s presence among us. The twelve were helping to build a house for God.
In today’s gospel lesson, Mark picks up with the apostles returning and telling Jesus all that they had done and taught. In my imagination it’s a very warm scene as the twelve excitedly tell Jesus about the people the places they had gone, the people they had met, the work they had done. And in my imagination Jesus looks on them with the pride of a teacher knowing his students had learned their lessons well.
But Mark doesn’t end this scene on a self-satisfied note. Although Jesus wants to retreat with his followers to a deserted place, that doesn’t seem to be possible. People need Jesus. People are hungry for God’s love. Jesus looks at the crowd with compassion “because they were like sheep without a shepherd.” People from all over, from villages, cities and farms, they all need Jesus, they all want his healing, they all need to know the gift of God’s love.
It’s going to take more than the twelve to build a house for God.
St. Paul is one of the people who understood we needed to expand our idea of what it means to build a house for God. Paul – who never met Jesus in his earthly lifetime and in fact had persecuted some of Jesus’ first followers - Paul recognized that Jesus was the gift of God’s love not just for the people of Israel but for the whole world. And Paul dedicated his life to spreading the news about the gift of God’s love. Paul dedicated his life to telling how the gift of God’s love had changed him. Paul dedicated his life to building a house for God, helping the world to see that God lives right here in the world among us.
In many ways the Letter to the Ephesians is a summing up of Paul’s ideas. And Paul very clearly saw his work as traveling among non-Jews, among the gentiles, and helping to build a house for God. Paul, or one of Paul’s disciples, writes in the Letter to the Ephesians to the gentiles who have put their faith in Jesus:
“So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.”
Paul encouraged people to see that they were part of this great project of building a house for God.
But it’s going to take more than Paul and those early Christians to build a house for God, to help the world to see that God lives right here in the world among us.
You and I are called to this work of building a house for God, helping the world to see that God lives right here in the world among us. Just as in the time of Jesus and Paul people are hungry for God’s love and desperate for God’s healing.
And if we look around we see that the work of building a house for God is underway all around us. When people give up a week in the summer to create a wonderful Vacation Bible School for our children they are helping to build a house for God. When people give up a week in the summer to go on a mission trip to Camden they are helping to build a house for God.
When people give up their time to unload furniture and furnish the apartment of someone who has nothing, they are helping to build a house for God. When people in a time of economic anxiety give money so some of the poorer residents of Madison can afford a pool membership, they are helping to build a house for God.
When people organize the delivery of food to the sick or a family with a loved one in the hospital, they are helping to build a house for God. When people take the time to visit or call someone who is sick or lonely, they are helping to build a house for God.
When people share with someone the importance of our faith or invite others to church, they are helping to build a house for God.
If we look around, there is a great building project underway. People are helping to build a house for God – sharing the great gift of God’s love for the world – helping people to see God’s love and presence right here among us.
But it’s going to take more to build a house for God. It’s going to take all of us.
Amen.
July 19, 2009
The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
Year B: Proper 11
2 Samuel 7:1-14a
Psalm 89:20-37
Ephesians 2:11-212
Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Building a House for God
Well, it’s been quite a week. Many of you know that we had Vacation Bible School, which was a really great experience for me and I think for the children and other adults who participated. Since in the past I had managed to avoid vacation bible school, I wasn’t really sure what to expect.
I knew this year’s theme was “Paul and the Underground Church” and I had looked at some of the program materials ahead of time. That was about it. I did know that with Mary Lea in charge it was going to be very well done. And, sure enough, Mary Lea and the parent volunteers did a fantastic job planning the week and creating a really spectacular environment in Grace Hall. The colorful tents and mats really fired up our imaginations and helped us to pretend that we were in ancient Rome. The older youth who served as counselors were so good with the children – they were both leaders and also role models.
I mentioned last week that my job at VBS was to play St. Paul. The children’s chapel was transformed into Paul’s house in Rome where he was being held under house arrest by his Roman guard Brutus, well-played by Eric Roper. Each day groups of children would come downstairs to Paul’s cave-like house and learn a little bit about Paul’s life and talk about some key parts of the Christian life.
We talked about how God’s love for us is a gift and how we are changed by God’s love and called to share God’s love with other people.
I like that these conversations about God’s love took place in what was supposed to be Paul’s house. I like that because one of the ways we can describe recognizing God’s love for us and sharing God’s love for us is building a house for God.
Today’s lessons begin with the very literal idea of building a house for God but then we move to a less-literal and much more powerful understanding of what it means to build a house for God. By recognizing God’s love for us and sharing that love we build a house for God – we help the world to see that God lives right here in the world among us.
In our reading from Second Book of Samuel we continue with the story of David. If you were in church last Sunday you may remember how King David led a triumphant parade with 30,000 men of Israel and the Ark of the Covenant into Jerusalem.
Remember the ark was believed to be the most sacred object in the universe – containing the stone tablets of the Ten Commandments, but also the very presence of God.
Last week I talked about how, in a sense, David was using this most sacred object as a political prop to let everyone know that he was God’s anointed, and, perhaps, warning any opponents that God was on David’s side.
Today we pick up the story in Jerusalem where David the king is living in “a house of cedar” and decides that he should build a house for God. And David means that literally – rather than keeping the ark in a tent David wants to construct a building where God can live.
At first the prophet Nathan encourages David, saying, “Go, do all that you have in mind; for the Lord is with you.”
But God has much bigger ideas of what it means to build a house for God’s Self. David has a very limited idea of God’s house – it would be house not unlike David’s own house.
God tells Nathan that instead of David building a house of cedar for him, God will build a house for David – a house not made of cedar but a royal dynasty.
It’s going to take more than David to build a house for God.
As Christians we know that ultimately God will use the house of David to give the greatest sign of God’s love by becoming a human being in Jesus of Nazareth, born of the House of David.
In our gospel lesson we hear an example of the ever expanding idea of building a house for God, helping the world to see that God lives right here in the world among us.
In his life and ministry, Jesus taught and healed and revealed the gift of God’s love for us. But his work was not just limited to his own teaching and healing. Jesus also sends out his disciples to continue his work – to continue building a house for God, helping the world to see that God lives right here in the world among us.
Earlier in Mark’s gospel the apostles had been commissioned by Jesus to continue his work. Mark tells us that the twelve “went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.”
In other words, the twelve went out and helped to reveal God’s love for us and God’s presence among us. The twelve were helping to build a house for God.
In today’s gospel lesson, Mark picks up with the apostles returning and telling Jesus all that they had done and taught. In my imagination it’s a very warm scene as the twelve excitedly tell Jesus about the people the places they had gone, the people they had met, the work they had done. And in my imagination Jesus looks on them with the pride of a teacher knowing his students had learned their lessons well.
But Mark doesn’t end this scene on a self-satisfied note. Although Jesus wants to retreat with his followers to a deserted place, that doesn’t seem to be possible. People need Jesus. People are hungry for God’s love. Jesus looks at the crowd with compassion “because they were like sheep without a shepherd.” People from all over, from villages, cities and farms, they all need Jesus, they all want his healing, they all need to know the gift of God’s love.
It’s going to take more than the twelve to build a house for God.
St. Paul is one of the people who understood we needed to expand our idea of what it means to build a house for God. Paul – who never met Jesus in his earthly lifetime and in fact had persecuted some of Jesus’ first followers - Paul recognized that Jesus was the gift of God’s love not just for the people of Israel but for the whole world. And Paul dedicated his life to spreading the news about the gift of God’s love. Paul dedicated his life to telling how the gift of God’s love had changed him. Paul dedicated his life to building a house for God, helping the world to see that God lives right here in the world among us.
In many ways the Letter to the Ephesians is a summing up of Paul’s ideas. And Paul very clearly saw his work as traveling among non-Jews, among the gentiles, and helping to build a house for God. Paul, or one of Paul’s disciples, writes in the Letter to the Ephesians to the gentiles who have put their faith in Jesus:
“So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.”
Paul encouraged people to see that they were part of this great project of building a house for God.
But it’s going to take more than Paul and those early Christians to build a house for God, to help the world to see that God lives right here in the world among us.
You and I are called to this work of building a house for God, helping the world to see that God lives right here in the world among us. Just as in the time of Jesus and Paul people are hungry for God’s love and desperate for God’s healing.
And if we look around we see that the work of building a house for God is underway all around us. When people give up a week in the summer to create a wonderful Vacation Bible School for our children they are helping to build a house for God. When people give up a week in the summer to go on a mission trip to Camden they are helping to build a house for God.
When people give up their time to unload furniture and furnish the apartment of someone who has nothing, they are helping to build a house for God. When people in a time of economic anxiety give money so some of the poorer residents of Madison can afford a pool membership, they are helping to build a house for God.
When people organize the delivery of food to the sick or a family with a loved one in the hospital, they are helping to build a house for God. When people take the time to visit or call someone who is sick or lonely, they are helping to build a house for God.
When people share with someone the importance of our faith or invite others to church, they are helping to build a house for God.
If we look around, there is a great building project underway. People are helping to build a house for God – sharing the great gift of God’s love for the world – helping people to see God’s love and presence right here among us.
But it’s going to take more to build a house for God. It’s going to take all of us.
Amen.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Servant Leadership
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
July 12, 2009
Year B, Proper 10: The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19
Psalm 24
(Ephesians 1:3-14)
Mark 6:14-29
Servant Leadership
What makes a good leader? Is Christian leadership different from good leadership in the world?
These are questions I think about a lot. And fortunately I have some time to think about them because one of the best parts of my job at Grace is that I am not the one in charge. But now that Lauren is on vacation a few people have said to me, “Oh, now you get to be in charge!” Not true! For the record, I’d like to point out that in the absence of the rector it’s the wardens who are in charge – not me.
But, of course, as a priest I am in a position of leadership and so I do think very seriously about what makes a good leader – and I wonder if good Christian leadership is different from good leadership in the business world and the political world.
Most, if not all of us, at some points in our lives are called to be leaders. Maybe we are called to be leaders in our families, or our communities or leaders at work.
So, naturally, since most if not all of us serve as leaders at some point lots of people think about – and write about – leadership. The other day just out of curiosity I typed in the word “leadership” at barnesandnonble.com and found over 20,000 titles were listed!
After scanning through some of these titles it’s safe to say that the general understanding of leadership is the ability to get people to do what you want them to do. Apparently most would agree that leadership is about accumulating and exercising power over other people.
But in reality is that good leadership? And is that good Christian leadership? Does God call us to the kind of leadership that is about accumulating and exercising power?
Today’s lessons give us the chance to see several different leaders in action. We see King David and we see Herod Antipas. And we also see the leadership of John the Baptist.
And of course above all of these we have the example of the leadership of Jesus Christ.
So here are two questions. What makes a good leader? Is Christian leadership different from leadership in the world?
From the Old Testament we heard the next installment in the amazing adventures of David. Over the past few weeks we’ve heard the unlikely story of Jesse’s youngest son’s rise from tending the sheep to being anointed as the king of Israel. We heard the story of God choosing David through the prophet Samuel. We heard the familiar story of David proving himself by slinging a rock and defeating the giant Goliath. And last week we heard how, after the death of Israel’s first king, the elders of Israel anoint David as their new leader.
Which brings us to today’s lesson. David has a triumphant victory parade, gathering “the chosen men of Israel” – some thirty thousand we’re told – and processing with the ark of God. The ark was a container which contained the stone tablets of the Ten Commandments – but more than that the ark was believed to contain the very presence of God.
So this is quite an event – and quite a statement by David. By moving the ark and “dancing before the Lord” David is making it very clear that he is God’s anointed and he’s letting everyone know that to oppose David was to oppose the God of Israel.
There are two ominous notes in this story, however. It’s too bad that one of these ominous notes was left out from the section we read from Second Samuel.
The part that’s left out describes how during the procession, Uzzah, one of the men helping to move the ark, reached out and touched the ark when it was in danger of tipping over. Despite his good intentions, he violated the taboo against touching the ark and Uzzah was immediately struck dead.
David is understandably upset by this event and temporarily changes his plan to bring the ark to Jerusalem. After a few months pass without further incident, though, he is able to work up the courage to bring the ark into his city – and eventually it will be placed in the Temple.
Maybe David should have hesitated even more and reflected on the danger of trying to use God for his own political purposes.
The other ominous note is included in what we heard today. The author of Second Samuel writes, “As the ark of the LORD came into the city of David, Michal daughter of Saul looked out of the window, and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart.”
We’re not given any explanation here for Michal’s strong emotions. She was a daughter of Saul, the previous king, and later she will criticize David for making a spectacle of himself in the procession with the “common people.” But perhaps as a king’s daughter she recognized the danger of a leader flaunting his relationship with God and the danger of abusing his status as God’s anointed.
Although David surrounded himself with the trappings of religion, in truth he governed Israel pretty much like any of the pagan rulers of his time and for that matter pretty much like dictators and absolute monarchs of today.
He placed himself above the law and violated God’s justice. The most famous example of this is his adultery with Bathsheba and the sending of her husband Uriah to the front lines to die in battle. Like other leaders then and now he did all of this because he wanted to – and because he could.
As a leader David transformed Israel for the first and last time into a political and military power – and yet he betrayed many and most especially he betrayed the God who had anointed him as king.
Today’s second king, Herod Antipas, is not quite as complex as David. Herod was a son of Herod the Great and he was ruler of Galilee during Jesus’ earthly lifetime. He was essentially a puppet of the Romans. As long as he maintained the favor of Rome he remained in power. When that favor was withdrawn, he was finished.
He is best-remembered for his relationship with Herodias – who was both his niece and sister-in-law! John the Baptist, of course is critical of this relationship and according to the gospel this leads to his demise.
Herod isn’t a one-dimensional character. Mark notes that Herod fears John the Baptist and recognizes him as a righteous and holy man. Mark tells us when Herod heard John “he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him.”
But Herod is an essentially weak man and so he needs to boast and exercise his “power” to impress his guests with bold oaths to Herodias’ daughter Salome (incorrectly and confusingly called Herodias in our bible translation). And so, probably with a mix of fear and regret Herod orders the beheading of John.
And Herod is painfully reminded of his essential weakness when Jesus gains notoriety for his teaching and healing. With dread, Herod is convinced that the righteous and holy John has been raised from the dead.
And what about the leadership of John the Baptist? He doesn’t surround himself with religious trappings the way David did, and yet even Herod is able to see that John is righteous and holy.
John leads a radically simple life in the wilderness and attracts a committed group of followers including, most scholars think, Jesus himself.
John speaks the truth to both the powerful and the not so powerful. He condemns Herod for his relationship with Herodias but he also challenges ordinary people to repent of their sins and change their ways. And his leadership attracts crowds to the River Jordan and transforms lives.
John the Baptist – John the leader – will pay the ultimate price for speaking the truth to power and yet his power and his leadership can still be felt today when we imitate him at the baptismal font.
There isn’t much Jesus in today’s lessons, but if we are looking for what makes a good leader – a good Christian leader – we have to look to Jesus.
Jesus didn’t need the religious trappings of David. And unlike Herod, Jesus was no one’s puppet.
Like John, Jesus spoke the truth to the powerful and the not so powerful. And, like John, Jesus paid the ultimate price for that honesty.
But there is something distinctive about the leadership of Jesus. Jesus practices a leadership of service.
Jesus does nothing to glorify himself. Instead he makes it very clear that he has come into the world to serve human beings and to glorify God the Father. Over and over he offers this service in his teaching and his healing. Jesus reveals this servant leadership at the Last Supper when describes the bread as his body broken for the world and the wine as his blood poured out for the world. And Jesus models that servant leadership when he gets on his knees and washes the feet of the apostles.
Servant leadership is leadership. Servant leadership is Christian leadership.
Bennett J. Sims, the late bishop of Atlanta once wrote, “Servant leadership defines success as giving and measures achievement by devotion to serving.”
As Christians all of us are called and challenged to follow the example of Jesus and to be servant leaders. In baptism we all promise to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as our self. We don’t have to look very far to see opportunities for servant leadership – opportunities for giving and serving.
And with God’s grace we all can be far greater leaders than David or Herod. With God’s grace we can be servant leaders – defining success as giving and measuring achievement by devotion to serving.
Amen.
July 12, 2009
Year B, Proper 10: The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19
Psalm 24
(Ephesians 1:3-14)
Mark 6:14-29
Servant Leadership
What makes a good leader? Is Christian leadership different from good leadership in the world?
These are questions I think about a lot. And fortunately I have some time to think about them because one of the best parts of my job at Grace is that I am not the one in charge. But now that Lauren is on vacation a few people have said to me, “Oh, now you get to be in charge!” Not true! For the record, I’d like to point out that in the absence of the rector it’s the wardens who are in charge – not me.
But, of course, as a priest I am in a position of leadership and so I do think very seriously about what makes a good leader – and I wonder if good Christian leadership is different from good leadership in the business world and the political world.
Most, if not all of us, at some points in our lives are called to be leaders. Maybe we are called to be leaders in our families, or our communities or leaders at work.
So, naturally, since most if not all of us serve as leaders at some point lots of people think about – and write about – leadership. The other day just out of curiosity I typed in the word “leadership” at barnesandnonble.com and found over 20,000 titles were listed!
After scanning through some of these titles it’s safe to say that the general understanding of leadership is the ability to get people to do what you want them to do. Apparently most would agree that leadership is about accumulating and exercising power over other people.
But in reality is that good leadership? And is that good Christian leadership? Does God call us to the kind of leadership that is about accumulating and exercising power?
Today’s lessons give us the chance to see several different leaders in action. We see King David and we see Herod Antipas. And we also see the leadership of John the Baptist.
And of course above all of these we have the example of the leadership of Jesus Christ.
So here are two questions. What makes a good leader? Is Christian leadership different from leadership in the world?
From the Old Testament we heard the next installment in the amazing adventures of David. Over the past few weeks we’ve heard the unlikely story of Jesse’s youngest son’s rise from tending the sheep to being anointed as the king of Israel. We heard the story of God choosing David through the prophet Samuel. We heard the familiar story of David proving himself by slinging a rock and defeating the giant Goliath. And last week we heard how, after the death of Israel’s first king, the elders of Israel anoint David as their new leader.
Which brings us to today’s lesson. David has a triumphant victory parade, gathering “the chosen men of Israel” – some thirty thousand we’re told – and processing with the ark of God. The ark was a container which contained the stone tablets of the Ten Commandments – but more than that the ark was believed to contain the very presence of God.
So this is quite an event – and quite a statement by David. By moving the ark and “dancing before the Lord” David is making it very clear that he is God’s anointed and he’s letting everyone know that to oppose David was to oppose the God of Israel.
There are two ominous notes in this story, however. It’s too bad that one of these ominous notes was left out from the section we read from Second Samuel.
The part that’s left out describes how during the procession, Uzzah, one of the men helping to move the ark, reached out and touched the ark when it was in danger of tipping over. Despite his good intentions, he violated the taboo against touching the ark and Uzzah was immediately struck dead.
David is understandably upset by this event and temporarily changes his plan to bring the ark to Jerusalem. After a few months pass without further incident, though, he is able to work up the courage to bring the ark into his city – and eventually it will be placed in the Temple.
Maybe David should have hesitated even more and reflected on the danger of trying to use God for his own political purposes.
The other ominous note is included in what we heard today. The author of Second Samuel writes, “As the ark of the LORD came into the city of David, Michal daughter of Saul looked out of the window, and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart.”
We’re not given any explanation here for Michal’s strong emotions. She was a daughter of Saul, the previous king, and later she will criticize David for making a spectacle of himself in the procession with the “common people.” But perhaps as a king’s daughter she recognized the danger of a leader flaunting his relationship with God and the danger of abusing his status as God’s anointed.
Although David surrounded himself with the trappings of religion, in truth he governed Israel pretty much like any of the pagan rulers of his time and for that matter pretty much like dictators and absolute monarchs of today.
He placed himself above the law and violated God’s justice. The most famous example of this is his adultery with Bathsheba and the sending of her husband Uriah to the front lines to die in battle. Like other leaders then and now he did all of this because he wanted to – and because he could.
As a leader David transformed Israel for the first and last time into a political and military power – and yet he betrayed many and most especially he betrayed the God who had anointed him as king.
Today’s second king, Herod Antipas, is not quite as complex as David. Herod was a son of Herod the Great and he was ruler of Galilee during Jesus’ earthly lifetime. He was essentially a puppet of the Romans. As long as he maintained the favor of Rome he remained in power. When that favor was withdrawn, he was finished.
He is best-remembered for his relationship with Herodias – who was both his niece and sister-in-law! John the Baptist, of course is critical of this relationship and according to the gospel this leads to his demise.
Herod isn’t a one-dimensional character. Mark notes that Herod fears John the Baptist and recognizes him as a righteous and holy man. Mark tells us when Herod heard John “he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him.”
But Herod is an essentially weak man and so he needs to boast and exercise his “power” to impress his guests with bold oaths to Herodias’ daughter Salome (incorrectly and confusingly called Herodias in our bible translation). And so, probably with a mix of fear and regret Herod orders the beheading of John.
And Herod is painfully reminded of his essential weakness when Jesus gains notoriety for his teaching and healing. With dread, Herod is convinced that the righteous and holy John has been raised from the dead.
And what about the leadership of John the Baptist? He doesn’t surround himself with religious trappings the way David did, and yet even Herod is able to see that John is righteous and holy.
John leads a radically simple life in the wilderness and attracts a committed group of followers including, most scholars think, Jesus himself.
John speaks the truth to both the powerful and the not so powerful. He condemns Herod for his relationship with Herodias but he also challenges ordinary people to repent of their sins and change their ways. And his leadership attracts crowds to the River Jordan and transforms lives.
John the Baptist – John the leader – will pay the ultimate price for speaking the truth to power and yet his power and his leadership can still be felt today when we imitate him at the baptismal font.
There isn’t much Jesus in today’s lessons, but if we are looking for what makes a good leader – a good Christian leader – we have to look to Jesus.
Jesus didn’t need the religious trappings of David. And unlike Herod, Jesus was no one’s puppet.
Like John, Jesus spoke the truth to the powerful and the not so powerful. And, like John, Jesus paid the ultimate price for that honesty.
But there is something distinctive about the leadership of Jesus. Jesus practices a leadership of service.
Jesus does nothing to glorify himself. Instead he makes it very clear that he has come into the world to serve human beings and to glorify God the Father. Over and over he offers this service in his teaching and his healing. Jesus reveals this servant leadership at the Last Supper when describes the bread as his body broken for the world and the wine as his blood poured out for the world. And Jesus models that servant leadership when he gets on his knees and washes the feet of the apostles.
Servant leadership is leadership. Servant leadership is Christian leadership.
Bennett J. Sims, the late bishop of Atlanta once wrote, “Servant leadership defines success as giving and measures achievement by devotion to serving.”
As Christians all of us are called and challenged to follow the example of Jesus and to be servant leaders. In baptism we all promise to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as our self. We don’t have to look very far to see opportunities for servant leadership – opportunities for giving and serving.
And with God’s grace we all can be far greater leaders than David or Herod. With God’s grace we can be servant leaders – defining success as giving and measuring achievement by devotion to serving.
Amen.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Mission to Camden
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
The Messenger
Curate’s Corner
"Mission to Camden"
One of my best friends serves as Director of Campus Ministry at the Loyola School, a Roman Catholic high school on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. From time to time over the past four or five years I have heard her tell stories about the powerful experience of bringing groups of her students on mission trips to Camden. She has told me that these young men and women are so transformed by their time there that they frequently sign up for return visits, although they receive no school credit for their service.
I know in the past Grace Church youth and their adult chaperones have had excellent mission trips to Central America, Indian reservations and Appalachia. As I began to think about this year’s mission trip, I recalled the stories I have heard from my friend about the Romero Center. I also reflected on how our world has changed since the last mission trip. I considered the economic recession which has caused anxiety for many and real suffering for some. Maybe this would be a good year to stay closer to home and work among the poor in our part of the country. After talking it over with Lauren and the J2A leaders, I decided that this year’s mission trip would take us just under a hundred miles away from Madison. This year, from August 3rd to the 8th, our mission is to Camden.
The facts and figures about Camden are horrifying. It is the second-poorest city in the nation with an unemployment rate more than three times the national average. The median income for a family of four in the city is $18,000. Camden has a population of 80,000 and has three high schools, three supermarkets, three prisons and three hospitals. Half of the population is illiterate and the school dropout rate is 70%. Only 7% of the population has a college degree or higher. One out of every five homes in Camden is abandoned and there are 200 active drug corners with 3000 drug dealers in the city. It is estimated that $200 million is spent on drugs every year in Camden. This is a place of great suffering right here in New Jersey.
Our group of ten young people and five adults will be participating in the “Urban Challenge” program at the Romero Center located in a former convent in the heart of Camden. Named for the martyred El Salvadoran archbishop Oscar Romero, the center describes itself as a “Peace and Social Justice Education Center.” Its mission is “to build bridges of understanding between people of faith in urban and suburban churches, leading people to a deeper awareness of our prophetic vocation, as we respond to our sisters and brothers in remarkable need.” The center aims to achieve this mission through means of “service, education, community and reflection.”
During the week we will be living in community, preparing our own meals and cleaning up after ourselves. Each day will begin with morning prayer, led by participants. Then we will head out to various work sites in the Camden and Philadelphia area. These may include rehabilitating housing, working in schools and pre-schools, preparing and serving meals at soup kitchens, assisting at the South Jersey Food Bank, and more. One of the most attractive elements of the “Urban Challenge” is the emphasis on how we will benefit from our encounter with the people of Camden. These sentences from the Romero Center’s promotional literature jumped out at me: “Most participants come prepared for what they will do for Camden. Typically, they are unprepared for what Camden will do for them.”
Each afternoon we will return to the Romero Center, discuss the places we have visited and the people we have met and reflect on the social justice issues raised by our experiences. Each evening after dinner the Romero Center presents a variety of social justice programs including an impressive roster of guest speakers and community activities and events. Our days will conclude with evening prayer during which each of us will reflect on the day – recalling a gift we received and how God challenged or stretched us.
Our time in Camden promises to be both challenging and rewarding. I look forward to sharing the experience with the parish in the fall. Meanwhile I hope that you will keep all of the participants in your prayers. The youth are: Will Brooks, Alexis Cardwell, Grace Cole, Tommy Cullen, Erica Faletto, Joey Geyer, Will Geyer, Lindsey Kellstrom, Kathy Meyer and Brian Tross. Along with me, the adults are: Geoff Brooks, Mike Cullen, Bill Geyer, and Lisa Lawson.
The Messenger
Curate’s Corner
"Mission to Camden"
One of my best friends serves as Director of Campus Ministry at the Loyola School, a Roman Catholic high school on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. From time to time over the past four or five years I have heard her tell stories about the powerful experience of bringing groups of her students on mission trips to Camden. She has told me that these young men and women are so transformed by their time there that they frequently sign up for return visits, although they receive no school credit for their service.
I know in the past Grace Church youth and their adult chaperones have had excellent mission trips to Central America, Indian reservations and Appalachia. As I began to think about this year’s mission trip, I recalled the stories I have heard from my friend about the Romero Center. I also reflected on how our world has changed since the last mission trip. I considered the economic recession which has caused anxiety for many and real suffering for some. Maybe this would be a good year to stay closer to home and work among the poor in our part of the country. After talking it over with Lauren and the J2A leaders, I decided that this year’s mission trip would take us just under a hundred miles away from Madison. This year, from August 3rd to the 8th, our mission is to Camden.
The facts and figures about Camden are horrifying. It is the second-poorest city in the nation with an unemployment rate more than three times the national average. The median income for a family of four in the city is $18,000. Camden has a population of 80,000 and has three high schools, three supermarkets, three prisons and three hospitals. Half of the population is illiterate and the school dropout rate is 70%. Only 7% of the population has a college degree or higher. One out of every five homes in Camden is abandoned and there are 200 active drug corners with 3000 drug dealers in the city. It is estimated that $200 million is spent on drugs every year in Camden. This is a place of great suffering right here in New Jersey.
Our group of ten young people and five adults will be participating in the “Urban Challenge” program at the Romero Center located in a former convent in the heart of Camden. Named for the martyred El Salvadoran archbishop Oscar Romero, the center describes itself as a “Peace and Social Justice Education Center.” Its mission is “to build bridges of understanding between people of faith in urban and suburban churches, leading people to a deeper awareness of our prophetic vocation, as we respond to our sisters and brothers in remarkable need.” The center aims to achieve this mission through means of “service, education, community and reflection.”
During the week we will be living in community, preparing our own meals and cleaning up after ourselves. Each day will begin with morning prayer, led by participants. Then we will head out to various work sites in the Camden and Philadelphia area. These may include rehabilitating housing, working in schools and pre-schools, preparing and serving meals at soup kitchens, assisting at the South Jersey Food Bank, and more. One of the most attractive elements of the “Urban Challenge” is the emphasis on how we will benefit from our encounter with the people of Camden. These sentences from the Romero Center’s promotional literature jumped out at me: “Most participants come prepared for what they will do for Camden. Typically, they are unprepared for what Camden will do for them.”
Each afternoon we will return to the Romero Center, discuss the places we have visited and the people we have met and reflect on the social justice issues raised by our experiences. Each evening after dinner the Romero Center presents a variety of social justice programs including an impressive roster of guest speakers and community activities and events. Our days will conclude with evening prayer during which each of us will reflect on the day – recalling a gift we received and how God challenged or stretched us.
Our time in Camden promises to be both challenging and rewarding. I look forward to sharing the experience with the parish in the fall. Meanwhile I hope that you will keep all of the participants in your prayers. The youth are: Will Brooks, Alexis Cardwell, Grace Cole, Tommy Cullen, Erica Faletto, Joey Geyer, Will Geyer, Lindsey Kellstrom, Kathy Meyer and Brian Tross. Along with me, the adults are: Geoff Brooks, Mike Cullen, Bill Geyer, and Lisa Lawson.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
How God Sees the World
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
June 14, 2009
The Second Sunday after Pentecost
Year B, Proper 6
1 Samuel 15:34-16:13
Psalm 20
(2 Corinthians 6:6-10; 14-17)
Mark 4:26-34
How God Sees the World
Well, it’s now the middle of June and graduation season is drawing to a close. A couple of weeks ago colleges and universities across the country held their commencements and now high schools are sending their newly minted graduates off into the world.
We’ve already heard some wonderful senior sermons here at Grace and we have a couple more next Sunday. I’m sure it’s both an exciting and scary time both for the graduates and for the people who love them.
Of course, at graduation ceremonies it’s very common to have a commencement speaker. You know how it usually works. Colleges try to invite distinguished alumni, or politicians, or successful business people or, increasingly, celebrities to make a speech to the graduates and their families. Ideally the speech should have some piece of wisdom for the graduates to take with them into the next phase of their lives.
Unfortunately, more often than not, these speeches from distinguished and famous people are filled with clichés and platitudes and are almost entirely forgettable. And it seems this year’s speeches were more of the same. Now, to be fair, this year the college commencement speakers had an even bigger challenge than usual because the grads in their caps and gowns are entering a job market with very limited opportunities.
So one after the other these distinguished and famous people tried to put their best spin on the current situation and the prospects facing the graduates. A few weeks ago the New York Times ran a piece quoting from some of these commencement speeches. Here are some of the excerpts.
In his controversial appearance at Notre Dame, President Obama told the graduates, “Your class has come of age at a moment of great consequence. It is a privilege and responsibility afforded to few generations.”
For his part, Vice President Biden told the graduates, “Remember from your physics class…your hands are on the steering wheel of the automobile. It’s going straight. And one slight turn sends the car in a direction fundamentally different and initially unalterable in the direction it’s been going in. Few people – few generations – get to put their hands on the steering wheel at that moment.”
Um, OK. If that doesn’t inspire you, here’s Ben Bernanke, the chairman of the Federal Reserve, addressing the graduates of Boston College School of Law. “We are in a recession and the labor market is weak. Many of you may not have gotten the job you wanted; some may have had offers rescinded or the start of employment delayed.” To soften the blow he added, “So, my advice to you is to stay optimistic. Things usually have a way of working out.”
Finally in her speech at Tulane, Ellen DeGeneres tried to buck up the grads by recalling when she was 19: “I was living in a basement apartment, I had no heat, no air, I had a mattress on the floor and the apartment was infested with fleas.”
Reading these excerpts from the commencement addresses and thinking about today’s lessons, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s a mistake for colleges to ask the distinguished and the famous to speak to the graduates. Maybe the colleges would get better speeches if they followed God’s example.
God doesn’t see the world the way we do. Of course God loves the distinguished and famous but God doesn’t seem to be impressed by them. And if God were choosing commencement speakers I’m pretty sure God wouldn’t choose the people the world considers distinguished or famous.
Instead, throughout history God turns to the young, to the old, to the anonymous, to the poor and to the seemingly ordinary. God turns to these people to do God’s work. God turns to these “nobodies” to do great things.
While the world dismisses the seemingly ordinary, the nobodies – it’s exactly these people God turns to over and over again to do great things.
And isn’t that one of the messages in today’s lessons?
In that long reading from First Samuel, God has become disappointed in Israel’s first king, Saul, so God sends the prophet Samuel to meet the new king God has chosen. Now, although by this time Samuel was pretty familiar with the ways of God, when Samuel meets Jesse’s oldest son, Eliab, he sees the eldest son the way the world would see him. Samuel is impressed by his seniority and appearance, and figures that the oldest is God’s chosen. That’s the way of the world, right?
But that’s not God’s way. That’s not the way God sees the world. So God has to remind Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”
“The Lord does not see as mortals see.” God selects Jesse’s youngest and least likely son, David – someone although apparently good-looking, but still undistinguished and certainly not famous. God sees that this nobody should be the king of Israel.
All of the parables of Jesus challenge us to see the world the way God sees the world. Today we heard two parables from the Gospel of Mark – both of which illustrate great abundance and power coming from the seemingly ordinary and insignificant – great abundance and power coming from the tiniest of seeds.
How would Jesus’ first followers have heard these parables? How would the first readers and hearers of the Gospel of Mark have understood these parables a couple of generations after the earthly lifetime of Jesus? It is likely that the first followers of Jesus and the first readers and hearers of the Gospel of Mark would have identified with the tiny, seemingly insignificant seeds.
From our perspective as Christians, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus is the central event of human history. Yet, in the First Century the vast majority of people even in Israel were unaware of Jesus of Nazareth.
True to form, God had once again chosen someone the world saw as an insignificant nobody to do remarkable things.
And a generation or two later, the Jesus movement was still small and struggling, a bunch of nobodies, still just a small seed. And so those first readers and hearers of the Gospel of Mark would have seen themselves as those small seeds – small seeds that with God’s grace have the potential to bring forth great abundance.
From our perspective, we know that those small First Century seeds took root and grew into the worldwide Christian church – and here we are today.
Yet, despite all of this history, despite our own experience, most of the time we don’t see the world the way God sees the world. Like Samuel we get impressed by appearances, by stature. Like colleges we give our attention to those the world considers distinguished and famous and ignore those the world sees as insignificant nobodies.
But at our best, and with the grace of God, we sometimes do see the world the way God sees the world. At our best and with the grace of God we see that everyone has infinite value and importance – no matter what the world thinks of them.
In her beautiful sermon last week, Katie Doyle talked about Grace Church as a place where there is no age gap. She said it’s a place where she has friends who are three years old and friends who are old enough to be her parents and grandparents.
What a powerful example of seeing the world the way God sees the world!
Today in our Rite 13 ceremony we honor our young people on or near their 13th birthday. We honor them not because the world says “children are our future.” No, we honor them because of who they are right now – and all that they give to our Christian community right now.
What a powerful example of seeing the world the way God sees the world!
Lately some of us have been learning a great deal about poverty right here in Madison. We’ve discovered that poverty is carefully hidden here and there’s whole lot more need than we expected. And we are beginning to think about ways that we can serve people right here in town that the world sees as insignificant nobodies but who God sees as having infinite value and importance.
And it turns out Grace Church has been given a challenge to see the world – to see Madison – the way God sees it. Thanks to Marilyn D’Amelio at Central Avenue School, we’ve learned of four or five families in town that cannot afford membership at the pool. If we could raise $2000 we could make a very real difference in the lives of some of our neighbors this summer. So, next Sunday we are going to station some of our youth at the end of each service just as we did for the Souper Bowl collection to accept your donations to help these people who the world sees as insignificant nobodies but who God sees as people of infinite value. Kit has even come up with a name: “Pooling Our Resources.” This is a chance for us to show that we see the world the way God sees the world.
And with God’s grace we can see the world as God sees the world. With God’s grace we can see that the people the world considers as insignificant nobodies actually have infinite value and importance.
Our challenge is simply to open our hearts to God’s grace and allow God to transform the way see the world.
Amen.
June 14, 2009
The Second Sunday after Pentecost
Year B, Proper 6
1 Samuel 15:34-16:13
Psalm 20
(2 Corinthians 6:6-10; 14-17)
Mark 4:26-34
How God Sees the World
Well, it’s now the middle of June and graduation season is drawing to a close. A couple of weeks ago colleges and universities across the country held their commencements and now high schools are sending their newly minted graduates off into the world.
We’ve already heard some wonderful senior sermons here at Grace and we have a couple more next Sunday. I’m sure it’s both an exciting and scary time both for the graduates and for the people who love them.
Of course, at graduation ceremonies it’s very common to have a commencement speaker. You know how it usually works. Colleges try to invite distinguished alumni, or politicians, or successful business people or, increasingly, celebrities to make a speech to the graduates and their families. Ideally the speech should have some piece of wisdom for the graduates to take with them into the next phase of their lives.
Unfortunately, more often than not, these speeches from distinguished and famous people are filled with clichés and platitudes and are almost entirely forgettable. And it seems this year’s speeches were more of the same. Now, to be fair, this year the college commencement speakers had an even bigger challenge than usual because the grads in their caps and gowns are entering a job market with very limited opportunities.
So one after the other these distinguished and famous people tried to put their best spin on the current situation and the prospects facing the graduates. A few weeks ago the New York Times ran a piece quoting from some of these commencement speeches. Here are some of the excerpts.
In his controversial appearance at Notre Dame, President Obama told the graduates, “Your class has come of age at a moment of great consequence. It is a privilege and responsibility afforded to few generations.”
For his part, Vice President Biden told the graduates, “Remember from your physics class…your hands are on the steering wheel of the automobile. It’s going straight. And one slight turn sends the car in a direction fundamentally different and initially unalterable in the direction it’s been going in. Few people – few generations – get to put their hands on the steering wheel at that moment.”
Um, OK. If that doesn’t inspire you, here’s Ben Bernanke, the chairman of the Federal Reserve, addressing the graduates of Boston College School of Law. “We are in a recession and the labor market is weak. Many of you may not have gotten the job you wanted; some may have had offers rescinded or the start of employment delayed.” To soften the blow he added, “So, my advice to you is to stay optimistic. Things usually have a way of working out.”
Finally in her speech at Tulane, Ellen DeGeneres tried to buck up the grads by recalling when she was 19: “I was living in a basement apartment, I had no heat, no air, I had a mattress on the floor and the apartment was infested with fleas.”
Reading these excerpts from the commencement addresses and thinking about today’s lessons, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s a mistake for colleges to ask the distinguished and the famous to speak to the graduates. Maybe the colleges would get better speeches if they followed God’s example.
God doesn’t see the world the way we do. Of course God loves the distinguished and famous but God doesn’t seem to be impressed by them. And if God were choosing commencement speakers I’m pretty sure God wouldn’t choose the people the world considers distinguished or famous.
Instead, throughout history God turns to the young, to the old, to the anonymous, to the poor and to the seemingly ordinary. God turns to these people to do God’s work. God turns to these “nobodies” to do great things.
While the world dismisses the seemingly ordinary, the nobodies – it’s exactly these people God turns to over and over again to do great things.
And isn’t that one of the messages in today’s lessons?
In that long reading from First Samuel, God has become disappointed in Israel’s first king, Saul, so God sends the prophet Samuel to meet the new king God has chosen. Now, although by this time Samuel was pretty familiar with the ways of God, when Samuel meets Jesse’s oldest son, Eliab, he sees the eldest son the way the world would see him. Samuel is impressed by his seniority and appearance, and figures that the oldest is God’s chosen. That’s the way of the world, right?
But that’s not God’s way. That’s not the way God sees the world. So God has to remind Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”
“The Lord does not see as mortals see.” God selects Jesse’s youngest and least likely son, David – someone although apparently good-looking, but still undistinguished and certainly not famous. God sees that this nobody should be the king of Israel.
All of the parables of Jesus challenge us to see the world the way God sees the world. Today we heard two parables from the Gospel of Mark – both of which illustrate great abundance and power coming from the seemingly ordinary and insignificant – great abundance and power coming from the tiniest of seeds.
How would Jesus’ first followers have heard these parables? How would the first readers and hearers of the Gospel of Mark have understood these parables a couple of generations after the earthly lifetime of Jesus? It is likely that the first followers of Jesus and the first readers and hearers of the Gospel of Mark would have identified with the tiny, seemingly insignificant seeds.
From our perspective as Christians, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus is the central event of human history. Yet, in the First Century the vast majority of people even in Israel were unaware of Jesus of Nazareth.
True to form, God had once again chosen someone the world saw as an insignificant nobody to do remarkable things.
And a generation or two later, the Jesus movement was still small and struggling, a bunch of nobodies, still just a small seed. And so those first readers and hearers of the Gospel of Mark would have seen themselves as those small seeds – small seeds that with God’s grace have the potential to bring forth great abundance.
From our perspective, we know that those small First Century seeds took root and grew into the worldwide Christian church – and here we are today.
Yet, despite all of this history, despite our own experience, most of the time we don’t see the world the way God sees the world. Like Samuel we get impressed by appearances, by stature. Like colleges we give our attention to those the world considers distinguished and famous and ignore those the world sees as insignificant nobodies.
But at our best, and with the grace of God, we sometimes do see the world the way God sees the world. At our best and with the grace of God we see that everyone has infinite value and importance – no matter what the world thinks of them.
In her beautiful sermon last week, Katie Doyle talked about Grace Church as a place where there is no age gap. She said it’s a place where she has friends who are three years old and friends who are old enough to be her parents and grandparents.
What a powerful example of seeing the world the way God sees the world!
Today in our Rite 13 ceremony we honor our young people on or near their 13th birthday. We honor them not because the world says “children are our future.” No, we honor them because of who they are right now – and all that they give to our Christian community right now.
What a powerful example of seeing the world the way God sees the world!
Lately some of us have been learning a great deal about poverty right here in Madison. We’ve discovered that poverty is carefully hidden here and there’s whole lot more need than we expected. And we are beginning to think about ways that we can serve people right here in town that the world sees as insignificant nobodies but who God sees as having infinite value and importance.
And it turns out Grace Church has been given a challenge to see the world – to see Madison – the way God sees it. Thanks to Marilyn D’Amelio at Central Avenue School, we’ve learned of four or five families in town that cannot afford membership at the pool. If we could raise $2000 we could make a very real difference in the lives of some of our neighbors this summer. So, next Sunday we are going to station some of our youth at the end of each service just as we did for the Souper Bowl collection to accept your donations to help these people who the world sees as insignificant nobodies but who God sees as people of infinite value. Kit has even come up with a name: “Pooling Our Resources.” This is a chance for us to show that we see the world the way God sees the world.
And with God’s grace we can see the world as God sees the world. With God’s grace we can see that the people the world considers as insignificant nobodies actually have infinite value and importance.
Our challenge is simply to open our hearts to God’s grace and allow God to transform the way see the world.
Amen.
Monday, June 01, 2009
Through the Wringer
Grace Episcopal Church
Madison NJ
The Messenger
June 2009
“Through the Wringer”
Recently I had the privilege and joy of officiating at my first wedding. A few months ago a good friend of mine from college called and asked if I would “marry” her and her future husband. I agreed on the condition that we go through the normal pre-marital conversations – which might mean talking about difficult and personal issues. They both agreed, and in fact seemed eager to have the opportunity to talk about the often difficult journeys that brought them together. My friend and her new husband have experienced serious illness and much loss in their lives. Talking with them, I became increasingly moved that despite everything they had been through they were still willing to make this serious commitment to one another and to have so much hope for the future.
For their wedding they chose to read a passage from the Letter to the Philippians. St. Paul writes, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be known to God.”
In my wedding sermon, I mentioned that, much like the bride and groom, St. Paul had been “through the wringer” when he wrote these words. He was writing from prison and had experienced all sorts of painful setbacks in his attempts to spread the Good News of Jesus Christ. Yet, despite having been “through the wringer” – or maybe because of this suffering – Paul’s commitment to his mission and his confidence in God was stronger than ever. And as I’ve thought more about this image, I’ve realized that, like my friends and St. Paul, many of us have been “through the wringer” lately.
Just since the fall we have endured an intense presidential election – with a result that elated some and disappointed others. Our country has faced a seemingly sudden and nauseating economic collapse, pirate attacks, ongoing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, a loss of stability in Pakistan, “swine flu” and news about a foiled terrorist plot in the Bronx.
Here at Grace Church, many of us have grieved over the death of a family member or a friend while others have worried about their own health or the well-being of a loved one. Some of us have lost our jobs and many more are anxious about their future employment. Those who have retired or are nearing retirement have been dismayed by the loss of their investments. The increasing number of empty storefronts along Main Street in Madison is vivid testimony that this community has been seriously affected by the recession. Yes, we have been “through the wringer.”
As is true with my friends and St. Paul, these difficult experiences can make the bonds between and among us – and our relationship with God – stronger. The longer days and (hopefully) somewhat slower pace of summer offers us an opportunity to reflect on what we have been through during this difficult year of being “through the wringer.” With a little effort we can use summer as a chance to reflect, to deepen our relationships with one another, and to make room for God’s power within us.
In terms of making room for God, maybe this summer we can try to set aside just a little bit of quiet time for personal prayer and reflection. Even just five minutes can make a huge difference in our lives. Maybe this summer we might do some reading to challenge or nourish us spiritually. There are a few books I find myself going back to over and over. One is a book of Christian spiritual exercises called Sadhana: A Way to God. It was written by an Indian Jesuit named Anthony de Mello and offers a user-friendly approach to various prayer techniques. Another book I frequently dip into is Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith. In this book Kathleen Norris offers brief, thoughtful reflections on religious and theological terms such as “Grace,” “Trinity” and “Hospitality.”
And, of course, Grace Church is still going strong during the summer. Maybe this summer you can make time for one of the weekday services. Many of us are excited that this summer “Mass on the Grass” returns on Wednesday evenings after last year’s hiatus caused by the construction. Later on Wednesday evenings we are going to have a summer-long reading and discussion of an excellent book, What Jesus Meant, by Garry Wills. Plus, our “First Fridays” potluck and speaker series will continue in June, July and August!
I am planning to use this summer to take a breath and to reflect on “the wringer” we have all been through this year. My prayer is that we can take advantage of this summer to strengthen our relationships with one another and to make room for God.
Madison NJ
The Messenger
June 2009
“Through the Wringer”
Recently I had the privilege and joy of officiating at my first wedding. A few months ago a good friend of mine from college called and asked if I would “marry” her and her future husband. I agreed on the condition that we go through the normal pre-marital conversations – which might mean talking about difficult and personal issues. They both agreed, and in fact seemed eager to have the opportunity to talk about the often difficult journeys that brought them together. My friend and her new husband have experienced serious illness and much loss in their lives. Talking with them, I became increasingly moved that despite everything they had been through they were still willing to make this serious commitment to one another and to have so much hope for the future.
For their wedding they chose to read a passage from the Letter to the Philippians. St. Paul writes, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be known to God.”
In my wedding sermon, I mentioned that, much like the bride and groom, St. Paul had been “through the wringer” when he wrote these words. He was writing from prison and had experienced all sorts of painful setbacks in his attempts to spread the Good News of Jesus Christ. Yet, despite having been “through the wringer” – or maybe because of this suffering – Paul’s commitment to his mission and his confidence in God was stronger than ever. And as I’ve thought more about this image, I’ve realized that, like my friends and St. Paul, many of us have been “through the wringer” lately.
Just since the fall we have endured an intense presidential election – with a result that elated some and disappointed others. Our country has faced a seemingly sudden and nauseating economic collapse, pirate attacks, ongoing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, a loss of stability in Pakistan, “swine flu” and news about a foiled terrorist plot in the Bronx.
Here at Grace Church, many of us have grieved over the death of a family member or a friend while others have worried about their own health or the well-being of a loved one. Some of us have lost our jobs and many more are anxious about their future employment. Those who have retired or are nearing retirement have been dismayed by the loss of their investments. The increasing number of empty storefronts along Main Street in Madison is vivid testimony that this community has been seriously affected by the recession. Yes, we have been “through the wringer.”
As is true with my friends and St. Paul, these difficult experiences can make the bonds between and among us – and our relationship with God – stronger. The longer days and (hopefully) somewhat slower pace of summer offers us an opportunity to reflect on what we have been through during this difficult year of being “through the wringer.” With a little effort we can use summer as a chance to reflect, to deepen our relationships with one another, and to make room for God’s power within us.
In terms of making room for God, maybe this summer we can try to set aside just a little bit of quiet time for personal prayer and reflection. Even just five minutes can make a huge difference in our lives. Maybe this summer we might do some reading to challenge or nourish us spiritually. There are a few books I find myself going back to over and over. One is a book of Christian spiritual exercises called Sadhana: A Way to God. It was written by an Indian Jesuit named Anthony de Mello and offers a user-friendly approach to various prayer techniques. Another book I frequently dip into is Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith. In this book Kathleen Norris offers brief, thoughtful reflections on religious and theological terms such as “Grace,” “Trinity” and “Hospitality.”
And, of course, Grace Church is still going strong during the summer. Maybe this summer you can make time for one of the weekday services. Many of us are excited that this summer “Mass on the Grass” returns on Wednesday evenings after last year’s hiatus caused by the construction. Later on Wednesday evenings we are going to have a summer-long reading and discussion of an excellent book, What Jesus Meant, by Garry Wills. Plus, our “First Fridays” potluck and speaker series will continue in June, July and August!
I am planning to use this summer to take a breath and to reflect on “the wringer” we have all been through this year. My prayer is that we can take advantage of this summer to strengthen our relationships with one another and to make room for God.
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