The Goodness and Love Made Known in Creation

Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ

September 2, 2012

Year B: Proper 17 – The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Song of Songs 2:8-13

Psalm 45: 1-2, 7-10

(James 1:17-27)

Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

The Goodness and Love Made Known in Creation

            Many of you know that I attended – and later taught at – St. Peter’s Prep in Jersey City. It’s an all-boys high school that was founded by the Society of Jesus, a religious order better known as the Jesuits.

            Like members of other Roman Catholic orders – and Episcopal orders, as well – Jesuits make vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. They live in community with fellow Jesuits. They have few of their own possessions and receive only a small stipend to cover their personal expenses.

            Over the years I became good friends with some Jesuits. I remember years ago talking with one of my Jesuit friends and he told me that he had asked his superior for permission to buy his own radio/CD player – what used to be called a boom box.

            He explained that before giving his permission the superior wanted to know how my friend thought this radio would support his ministry – how this radio would bring him closer to God and make him a better priest and a better Christian.

            While he was telling me about all of this I remember thinking that this was just about the craziest thing that I had ever heard. I mean what was the big deal? After all, we were talking about a radio! It’s not like my friend was asking to buy a Mercedes or a vacation house at the Shore.

            It’s just a boom box!

            And, I thought, here’s another example of crazy Christians thinking that the physical, material world – our bodies and our stuff – even just a radio - is somehow bad and evil.

            And, unfortunately, there is a long history of Christians mistakenly thinking that the physical world is bad.

            It probably goes back to misunderstanding St. Paul who liked to contrast flesh and spirit. But, when Paul wrote and taught about the flesh he didn’t mean that our bodies and the physical were bad. God made it all so by definition it’s good. But, Paul insisted that our bodies and the physical world are vulnerable. Our bodies and the physical world can be broken – can be defiled - by the poor choices we make.

            And we don’t have to be bible scholars or theologians to know that Paul was absolutely right.

            And, of course, Paul was simply echoing Jesus as we heard in today’s gospel lesson.

            Today we heard part of a larger debate between Jesus and the Pharisees and scribes. Lauren and I have mentioned before that the Pharisees get a bad rap in the New Testament. We don’t know as much about them as we’d like, but it seems that they were very interested in sanctifying – making holy - everyday life.

            At least in that way, the Pharisees would fit right in today with our emphasis on special spiritual practices like mindfulness meditation or centering prayer or praying with beads – all of which are designed to help make everyday life holy.

            Apparently ritual hand-washing was one of spiritual practices encouraged by the Pharisees.

            Not a problem, unless, of course, the hand-washing - or any other spiritual practice – isn’t matched by what’s going on in our hearts.

            So, Jesus, right in line with many of the Hebrew Prophets, tells the crowd, “Listen to me, all of you, and understand: there is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile.”

            Jesus tells the crowd – and tells us – that we need to take care of what’s going on inside our hearts – because it’s what’s inside our hearts that will defile us - and ultimately destroy us.

            At the same time, Jesus is also affirming the goodness of God’s creation – the goodness of our bodies, the goodness of this planet and its creatures and the goodness of the whole universe.

            I love the start of Eucharistic Prayer B, which we’ve been using this summer at the 10:00 service: “We give thanks to you, O God, for the goodness and love which you have made known to us in creation.”

            It’s beautiful, right? “…The goodness and love which you have made known to us in creation…”

            At our best, Jews and Christians have insisted that we can learn a lot about the goodness and love of God just by paying attention to what’s going on around us. That understanding goes right back the creation story when God looks at creation declares it very good.

            Probably no book of the Bible does a better job of describing God’s goodness and love made known to us in creation than the book we heard from in today’s first lesson: the Song of Songs.

            It’s sometimes called the Song of Solomon, though it was probably written in the 3^rd or 4th Century BC, long after the days of King Solomon. It has the distinction of being the only book in the Bible that never mentions God.

            As we heard in today’s excerpt, the Song of Songs is a poem about a man and a woman who are passionately in love with each other.

            So, what’s it doing in the Bible, you ask? Well, Jews have seen this love poem as an allegory of God’s love for Israel while Christians have seen it as an allegory of God’s love for the Church.

            Those are perfectly valid interpretations, but the song’s inclusion in the Bible also reminds us that since God is love we can learn a lot about God through the love that we share with one another.           

            Since God is love we learn a lot about God through the love we share with our husbands and wives, our parents, children, grandchildren and friends.

            The Song of Songs reminds us that we learn a lot about God right here in this physical world when we laugh together, when we hold hands, when we hug, when we kiss.

            “We give thanks to you, O God, for the goodness and love which you have made known to us in creation.”

            The trouble is – as the prophets and as Jesus understood very clearly – that what’s born in our hearts can twist the goodness and love made known to us in creation into ugliness and destruction.

            We don’t have to look far to know that’s true. The greed and selfishness born in our hearts has defiled the good creation into a polluted world where a few have much and most have very little.

            The greed and selfishness born in our hearts has defiled the good creation into a harsh world where people are treated as things  - things used to satisfy our needs and wants.

            The greed and selfishness born in our hearts has defiled the good creation into an uncaring world where many of us are self-centered, stingy with our love, quick to judge or hold a grudge and reluctant to forgive.

            What’s born in our hearts can twist the goodness and love made known to us in creation into ugliness and destruction.

            I thought it was crazy when my Jesuit friend had to ask permission to buy a radio – had to explain how this purchase would bring him closer to God, how it would enhance his ministry, how it would make him a better Christian.

            He could have just bought the radio, but, he had made vows of poverty, chastity and obedience – and was striving to live them out as faithfully as he could.

            And maybe, in our own way, we should make our own vows of poverty, chastity and obedience.

            Poverty. Before we buy something we should vow to ask, will having this thing bring me closer to God? Will making this purchase help me be a better Christian? Will buying this thing help or hurt God’s good creation?

            Chastity. We should vow to keep our sacred promises, to treat other people not as objects for our pleasure or use - not as things - but as having infinite value as beloved children of God.

            Obedience. We should vow to really obey God’s command to give and give and give, to love unreservedly and to forgive infinitely.

            Not easy. But, if we, in our own way, try to keep our own vows of poverty, chastity and obedience we’ll work with God to restore the good creation that’s been defiled by the greed and selfishness born in our hearts.

            If we, in our own way, make our own vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, when we join together at the Lord’s Table we’ll truly give thanks to God for the goodness and love made known to us in creation.

            Amen.           

           

           

           

           

            

The Queen's Duty - and Ours

Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ

The Messenger

September 2012

The Queen’s Duty – and Ours

Last month many of us enjoyed watching the Summer Olympics held in London. It’s always amazing to see what these remarkable athletes are able to achieve – how they are able to push the limits of human strength, endurance and grace. Many people noted the contrast between the London games and the extravaganza in Beijing four years ago. While the Chinese clearly wanted to demonstrate that they are now a major world power, the British had less to prove. Their more easygoing and quirky attitude was best seen in the idiosyncratic opening ceremony featuring everything from Mary Poppins to Mr. Bean to a celebration of the National Health Service.

For me, the highlight of the opening ceremony was the short film that featured James Bond (Daniel Craig) arriving at Buckingham Palace to escort Queen Elizabeth to the games. I’m sure many of us were surprised and amused that it really was the Queen – surely the most unexpected “Bond Girl” ever – who turned from her desk and greeted 007 with a perfectly delivered, “Good evening, Mr. Bond.”

The Olympics and the Queen’s film debut capped off the Diamond Jubilee - a landmark year in her life and the life of the British nation. Even people who think it’s silly, wasteful and undemocratic to have a monarchy in the 21^st Century have expressed respect for the way the Queen has carried out her responsibilities since she inherited them 60 years ago – at the age of 25. In reading different commentaries on her long reign, one word repeatedly leaps out: duty.

On her 21^st birthday, then Princess Elizabeth broadcast a speech in which she said, “I declare before you all that my whole life whether it be long or short shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great imperial family to which we all belong.” Addressing Parliament this past March, she renewed her long-ago commitment, saying, “I rededicate myself to the service of our great country and its people now and in the years to come.”

Despite the luxuries of royal life, I’m sure there have been at least some days when she craved a “normal life” – to be freed from the ribbon-cuttings, meetings with politicians, conversations with strangers, and the media’s focus on her family’s frequent foibles.  Yet, over the decades the Queen has faithfully done her duty and shows no sign of giving up her responsibilities.

So, what does the Queen’s dedication to duty have to do with us? Today the word duty is usually associated with military service – but we have clear and important duties as Christians.

When a child is baptized the parents and godparents are asked, “Will you be responsible for seeing that the child you present is brought up in the Christian faith and life?” They answer, “I will with God’s help.” And at every baptism the congregation is asked, “Will you who witness these vows do all in your power to support these persons in their life in Christ?” We answer, “We will.” We may not think of it this way, but we are promising to do our duty to support, educate and encourage the newly baptized.

But, our duty is greater even than that. The Baptismal Covenant is about proclaiming our faith but it’s also about committing – with God’s help – to do our duty. We promise to do our duty in continuing in the life of the Church, in resisting evil, in proclaiming the Good News, in loving our neighbors as ourselves and striving for justice and peace among all people.

Despite the joys of the Christian life, maybe there are days when we crave a “normal” life – to be as materialistic as the rest of society, to look out only for ourselves and those closest to us, to demonize or ridicule those who are different or who simply disagree with us and to hold on to our grudges. It’s very tempting – and I know all too well that I don’t always live up to my duty as a Christian.

Fortunately, the Church offers lots of reminders of our duties – and also absolution when we fall short. The Church also offers many opportunities for us to carry out our duties. One simple, small but significant way to carry out our Christian duty is by remembering to buy food and place it in the Food for Friends barrel in the lobby. In a sermon last month I challenged us – dared us – to fill the barrel to overflowing each and every week. Considering that on average 300 people come to our Sunday services, this should be no problem. We haven’t quite managed that yet, but of course many have been away on vacation.

Now that summer is drawing to close, maybe we can rededicate ourselves to our Christian duty – rededicate ourselves to loving God and loving one another  - rededicate ourselves to giving generously, beginning when we walk into church and share our bounty with the poor and hungry. The reward is the life that God has always hoped for us: a royal life greater than the Queen or any of us can imagine.

Difficult and Life-Giving

Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ

August 26, 2012

Year B: Proper 16 – The 13th Sunday after Pentecost

1 Kings 8:1, 6, 10-11, 22-30, 41-43

Psalm 84

(Ephesians 6:10-20)

John 6:56-69

Difficult and Life-Giving

            By now many of you have heard at least a little about our recent mission trip to West Virginia.

            As usual with this kind of trip, I went into it a little nervous. Maybe the other participants were nervous, too. I wondered if we’d all get along. I worried that our accommodations would be too uncomfortable. And I hoped that our work would match our skills and energy – not too easy but also not overwhelmingly technical or difficult.

            Well, everything turned out OK, though I admit that my stomach sank a little when I learned we’d spend our week working on a roof. None of us had any skills in this area. And, obviously working on a roof presents some particular safety issues.

            I joked that I was only allowed to lose one person – but that was only masking my real concern that someone would take a tumble down to the ground.

            It turned out that we all got pretty comfortable on the roof – and, though we had a close call or two, nobody fell off.

            The first days of removing the two layers of old roof was some of the most difficult physical work I’ve ever done. Waking up those first couple of mornings I was so sore I worried I wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone climb the ladder to the roof.

            It was difficult work – but I think for all of us it was also life-giving work.

            And that’s the way life works, isn’t it? Very often the most difficult work is also the most life-giving work.

            Many of us have been faced with difficult work in school and in our professional lives.

            Many of us have taken on the difficult work of being a husband or wife, of being a parent, of being a grandparent.

            Many of us have had the difficult work of caring for a sick family member of friend.

            And over and over most, if not all, of us have learned that often what’s most difficult is also the most life-giving.

            Difficult and yet life-giving.

            In today’s gospel lesson we heard a story about many of Jesus’ first disciples not understanding that often what’s most difficult is also the most life-giving.

            In today’s gospel lesson we come to the end of Jesus’ long teaching about bread and many of Jesus’ disciples  – not outsiders but disciples - respond that his teaching is difficult. They ask Jesus, “Who can accept it?”

            It’s a surprising response. What’s going on here?

            As Kit mentioned his sermon last Sunday, when the Evangelist John tells the story of the Last Supper he does not include anything about Jesus taking the bread and saying, “This is my body” and there’s nothing about Jesus taking the cup and saying, “This is my blood.”

            Instead, John tells us the powerful story of Jesus at the Last Supper washing the feet of his friends.

            But, John more than makes up for that omission by including Jesus’ long teaching on bread that we’ve been hearing over the past few weeks in church.

            According to John, after the miraculous feeding of the five thousand, Jesus boldly proclaims, “I am the bread of life.” Then later, just as boldly, according to John, Jesus says, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.”

            Now, remember that the Gospel of John was the last to be written – probably completed in its final form around the end of the First Century.

            So, on one level, John tells the story of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection.

            But, on another level, John also offers us a window into what was going on in a particular Christian community, seventy or so years after the Resurrection.

            Although John doesn’t include the bread and the wine in his story of the Last Supper, it’s clear that the Eucharist has already become important to John’s community of Christians.

            We hear that importance when Jesus says, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.”

            Just like us, Christians at the end of the First Century knew perfectly well that when they gathered for the Eucharist they were not eating human flesh and drinking human blood.           

            But, people outside the community weren’t so sure about that. These outsiders would have heard just enough about Christians eating Jesus’ body and drinking Jesus’ blood to think something really weird was going on with these people. And Jews would have been especially horrified since the dietary laws strictly forbid eating the blood of animals. Imagine how much worse it would be to consume human blood!

            So, no surprise, one of the earliest slanders against Christians was that they were cannibals.

            But, here’s the thing: notice that in today’s gospel lesson we’re told that it’s not outsiders – it’s many of Jesus’ own disciples who say to Jesus, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?”

            And here “difficult” doesn’t mean hard exactly but more like “offensive.”

            So we’re told that many of the disciples – the men and women who had seen Jesus perform many signs – the men and women who had seen Jesus heal – the men and women who had heard Jesus teach like they had never heard anyone teach before – the men and women who were there when Jesus somehow transformed five loaves and two fish into enough abundance to feed 5000 people with leftovers – many of these disciples give into what must have been pretty powerful peer pressure, declaring Jesus’ teaching too difficult – too offensive to the world – too offensive maybe for themselves - and so they choose to leave the Christian community and live like everybody else.

            It’s a discouraging story that must have been true during Jesus’ earthly lifetime. It’s a story that must have been true for John’s community seventy years later. And, for us today the deal-breaker probably isn’t communion, but let’s be honest, we have our own potential deal-breakers – parts of Jesus’ teaching that tempt us to throw up our hands and say this is too difficult – and go off to live like everyone else.

            The truth is there’s nothing more difficult - and nothing more life-giving - than following Jesus.

            But, following Jesus is still offensive to the world – and sometimes maybe even offensive to us.

            It’s difficult teaching that every human life in infinitely valuable – even, especially, the people the world sees as insignificant and even disposable – the poor, the uneducated, the undocumented, the disabled, the criminal.

            It’s difficult teaching, yet, it’s also life-giving to recognize the infinite value of every human being.

            It’s difficult teaching that we must offer unlimited forgiveness – that we must not seek revenge – that greed is bad – that we should give not just some fixed percentage of our wealth or just some of our talents - but we should give and give until it hurts.

            It’s difficult teaching, yet it’s also life-giving, to give ourselves away in loving generosity and service.

            It’s difficult teaching that we must care for and love one other – the people closest to us, the people we’ve never met and never will, the people we can’t stand and even the people who hate us and hurt us.

            This is all difficult teaching. Following Jesus is much, much more difficult work than even a week of roofing in West Virginia.

            We’re not so different from those disciples back in the First Century. Even though we’ve also seen Christ at work in our lives, we can be tempted to throw up our hands, and say, “This teaching is difficult. This teaching is offensive. This teaching is too hard. Who can accept it?”

            We can give up, walk away from Jesus and live like everybody else.

            But, fortunately, we’re not on our own.

            Working together, supporting each other, was a big part of what made the difficult work of the mission trip life-giving.

            We come here each week in part to support each other – because the Christian life is difficult and we need each other.

            Finally, most important of all, we have Jesus. Each week we gather at the Lord’s Table, where in some mysterious way, we take the Body and Blood of Christ into our bodies, into our hearts, and into our souls.

            We abide in Jesus and Jesus abides in us, giving us the strength to hear the difficult teaching of Jesus – and giving us the strength to do the most difficult, yet most life-giving, work of following Jesus.

            Amen.

           

           

            

The Way is to Love

Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ

August 9, 2012

Funeral Sermon for Gail Shehadi Cross

Habakkuk 3:17-19

Psalm 23

Revelation 7:9-17

John 14:1-6a

The Way is to Love

            As his death approached, Jesus gathered with his friends for one last meal.  Throughout his ministry Jesus had warned his disciples what was going to happen to him, yet they couldn’t or wouldn’t understand, refused to accept, refused to believe, that the one they had recognized and followed as the messiah was going to die.

            But, gathered for what was clearly their last meal together, the truth must have begun to sink in.

            The four gospels give somewhat different accounts of the last meal shared by Jesus and his disciples.

            The passage we just heard comes from the Gospel of John.           

            In this gospel, Jesus reassures the disciples that although he is leaving them, they know the way – they know the way to God – they know the way to the place where they – where we - will all be reunited.

            The Apostle Thomas speaks for all the disciples, speaks for all of us, when in confusion and fear, and, yes, doubt, he asks Jesus, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

            And Jesus says: “I am the way…” Jesus tells the disciples – and tells us here today – that in his life, death and resurrection Jesus shows us the way to God.           

            In my imagination I see Thomas and the other disciples later spending a lot of time trying to figure out how exactly Jesus is the way to God. And maybe, especially in times of grief and loss, we wonder about that ourselves.

            How is Jesus the way?

            A big part of the answer, I believe, is found just a little bit earlier in John’s account of the Last Supper.

            John tells us that during supper, Jesus “poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.”

            After he was done, Jesus tells the disciples, “I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.”

            There it is: The way.

            Jesus is the way not only when we believe in him, but, more importantly, when we follow his example.

            We are on the way of Jesus – we’re on the way to God – when we follow Jesus’ example of loving service.

            We are on the way when we wash each other’s feet.

            Over the course of her life, Gail Cross washed a lot of feet, didn’t she?

            When Joanne first told me that her mom was sick, I remembered greeting her in our church lobby one Sunday morning late last year. When she told me that she was Joanne Cross’ mother, I said, “Oh, I’m a big Joanne Cross fan!”

            Immediately her eyes widened and she broke into a big smile and said, “I am too!”

            In talking with her family it’s clear that little moment was just a glimpse of Gail’s overflowing love for her family – the love that she shared as best she could in good times and not so good – the love that she shared by being there for them right to the end.

            Both literally and figuratively, Gail was always willing to grab a towel, get on her knees and wash the feet of those she loved.

            But, Gail didn’t just offer this loving service to those closest to her.

            To just about the end of her life, even when she was in great pain, Gail offered loving service to those in need. She gave of herself at her beloved St. John’s in Boonton, she gave of herself to the Visiting Nurses Association, and she gave of herself each time she and her therapy dog “Evie” visited hospitals, prisons and schools.           

            Over and over, Gail was always willing to grab a towel, get on her knees and wash the feet of those in need.

            There it is: the Way.

            As Jesus’ death approached he reassured his friends that, although he was leaving them, they knew the way – they knew the way to God – they knew the way to the place where we will all be reunited.

            Jesus told them, tells us here today, “I am the way…”

            Gail’s journey on the way has come to an end. She has returned to the God who imagined her into being, the God who guided her and supported her in good times and not so good, the God whose love she shared with so many in her life.

            But, for us here today, our journey continues.

            Fortunately, we know the way.

            The way is to love.

            The way is for each of us in our own way to grab a towel, to get on our hands and knees and wash the feet of our family and friends and especially to wash the feet of those who are in need.

            Gail knew that the way is to love.

            And, having seen her example, we know it, too.

            Amen.

            

Responding to God's Abundance

Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ

July 29, 2012

Year B: Proper 12 - The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost

2 Samuel 1:1-15

Psalm 14

(Ephesians 3:14-21)

John 6:1-21

Responding to God’s Abundance

            At first glance, today’s lessons don’t seem to have much to do with each other.

            At the heart of lesson I just read from the Gospel of John, is a powerful story that’s familiar to many of us: Jesus’ feeding of the multitudes. It’s the only one of Jesus’ miracles – or “signs” as the Evangelist John calls them – that is included, with some variations, in all four of the gospels.

            And it’s easy to see why all four evangelists would think this story is important enough – even essential - to include in their accounts of Jesus’ life and ministry. Think about the elements included in John’s account of the feeding that we just heard.

            Jesus is presented as firmly in control of events. We’re told he saw the large crowd approaching and asks Philip, “Where are we going to buy bread for these people to eat?” Typically, John tells us that Jesus only asks this to test Philip because Jesus knows all along what he’s going to do.

            As usual, the disciples are presented as more or less clueless, still unable or unwilling to recognize Jesus’ power. Philip says there’s no way they could have enough money to feed all these people. And Andrew has found a boy with five loaves and two fish. But, there’s no way that could be enough for all these people, right?

            There’s also Eucharistic imagery. Later, in John’s account of the Last Supper, Jesus washes the disciples’ feet but doesn’t say anything about the bread and wine being his body and blood. But here at the feeding, John points out that the Passover is near and Jesus takes the bread, gives thanks, and gives it to those seated around them.

            And, finally, there’s the miraculous part of the story. After everyone is satisfied, all 5000 people, somehow there are baskets of bread left over.

            How could this have happened?

            Well, this could simply be a supernatural act of Jesus. Or, maybe the 5000 people were so moved by what they had seen and heard Jesus doing that they reached into their own bags and shared the bread that they had been saving for themselves.

            I prefer option number two, but either way it’s a miracle, or as John prefers to call it, a sign.

            However it happened, the feeding of the 5000 is a powerful sign of God’s overflowing abundance.

            As many of you know, this summer some of us have been reading After You Believe by N. T. Wright. One of the key points he makes in the book is that Jesus’ life, death and resurrection mark the beginning of God’s Kingdom on earth.  And, so if we listen to Jesus – if we watch Jesus – we see what God’s Kingdom will be like.

            So, today we learn that God’s Kingdom will be a place of overflowing abundance – where there will be enough for everyone. God’s abundance is so great that there will even be a lot of left over.

            Jesus’ life, death and resurrection mark the beginning of God’s kingdom on earth, but we don’t have to be Bible scholars to know that God’s kingdom on earth is still a work in progress. The world is still filled with poverty, hunger, violence, despair and sin.

            God invites us, calls us, even in a sense needs us, to help finish the job – to help build God’s kingdom on earth

            In today’s Old Testament lesson we continued with the story of David.

            Now, David was someone who was well aware of God’s overflowing abundance. As we’ve heard in recent weeks, God chose the unlikely David, Jesse’s youngest son, the shepherd boy, to be king of Israel.

            As king, David lives a life of relative comfort in Jerusalem, his capital city, in a palace made of rare and valuable cedar. And, as we heard last Sunday, the presence of God in the ark is there with him in Jerusalem.

            God has given him so much – and yet…

            It’s rare for ancient literature to criticize the king, but that’s what we heard in today’s sordid lesson from Second Samuel.

            Think about how David is presented here.

            He’s a coward or maybe just lazy. We’re told it’s springtime, “the time when kings go out to battle,” but David stays behind in his capital, sending others to fight his battles.

            He’s a voyeur. We’re told that David rises from his afternoon nap – it’s good to be the king! – and checks out Bathsheba bathing and immediately wants to know more about her. He asks about her, apparently hoping to add her to his harem.

            It turns out that she’s married to Uriah – one of David’s best soldiers. Notice that Uriah and Bathsheba live very close to the royal palace – a sign of Uriah’s importance.

            This is bad enough so far, but then David gets Bathsheba pregnant and begins plotting. First he wants Uriah to go and be with his wife in an effort to hide his paternity. And when that doesn’t work – Uriah is loyal and trustworthy throughout the story – David sends Uriah to his death in battle.

            It really is a sordid story of deceit and cowardice.

            It would be easy for us to dismiss this old story as having nothing to do with us. After all, we’re not kings or queens. We don’t have royal power and royal wealth. And, even if we did, we would never behave like David, right?

            But, before we dismiss this old sordid story of deceit and cowardice as irrelevant, let’s dig just a little deeper.

            Ultimately, this is a story about sin. This is a story about a man who knew God’s abundance better than just about anyone. Yet, David wasn’t moved by God’s abundance to be grateful or to be generous himself. Instead, David is incredibly and horribly selfish, wanting more, wanting what he could not have, and not caring about the consequences.

            In a way, David’s story is a retelling of the first sin, isn’t it? In the creation story, God had shared overflowing abundance with the first man and woman, and yet rather than being grateful they want more, they want what they could not have, not caring about the consequences.

            But, those consequences turn out to be all too real.

            So, what does all of this have to do with us?

            Well, we are like David and the 5000 well-fed people gathered around Jesus that day in the field. Most of us are well aware of, and enjoy, God’s overflowing abundance. Yes, we live in uncertain economic times. And, yes, some of us have real economic worries.

            But King David – and for that matter most people alive or who have ever lived - couldn’t even imagine the comfort and wealth that most of us enjoy on a daily basis.

            The question is, how do we respond to God’s overflowing abundance?

            Are we like David, never satisfied and willing to selfishly – and sinfully – take more and more, regardless of the consequences for us or for others?

            Or are we like the people gathered around Jesus that day? Are we moved by God’s overflowing abundance to be generous – to share the bread that we have stashed away in our bags or pockets?

            Are we willing to work with God – to help God – build the kingdom here on earth?

            Some of you may remember that at this year’s annual meeting, I talked about how we are called by God to re-gift what God has so generously given to us. Then, going out on a limb, I challenged us – dared us – to raise $5000 on Souper Bowl Sunday for the Community Soup Kitchen in Morristown.

            And you may remember that we more than met that goal, raising $5,460.50.

            Now, that’s a great example of recognizing God’s overflowing abundance and re-gifting.

            I’m going to push my luck again.

            I’m coming up on the fifth anniversary of my arrival here at Grace. And, I hope you know how much I love it here – and love you.

            Grace is an amazing, loving and generous community. But, I’ve always hoped we’d do better with the Food for Friends barrel. On average, we have around 300 people in church on Sunday and yet the Food for Friends barrel is only full when someone or some family makes a Costco run. Which is great – but that doesn’t leave the rest of us off the hook.

            So, I’m going to challenge us – dare us – to be like those people gathered around Jesus, and at least fill that barrel every week. I want to hear Kit complaining about how much unexpired food he has to pack up every week to bring to Dover! I want to hear Capt. Ed warning that all that unexpired food is blocking the door and creating a fire hazard!

            So, what do you think, can we do it?

            Obviously, our generosity will help hungry people.

            But, just as important, filling the barrel will also be an act of mindfulness, reminding us that most of us experience God’s overflowing abundance every day.

            In and through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, God has inaugurated the kingdom of God on earth. God invites us, calls us, even in a sense needs us, to help finish the job – to help build God’s kingdom on earth.

            How we respond is up to us.

            Amen.

           

           

           

           

           

            

Where Does God Live?

Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ

July 22, 2012

Year B – Proper 11: The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

2 Samuel 7:1-14a

Psalm 89:20-37

(Ephesians 2:11-22)

Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

Where Does God Live?

            Well, we survived another Vacation Bible School!

           

            Actually, we more than survived. It was a great success and a lot of fun, thanks to the hard work of Mary Lea, our adult volunteers, the youth counselors and Dr. Anne.

           

            Maybe it’s because I missed VBS last year year, but the children this year seemed particularly happy, enthusiastic and cooperative. It was a great time.

           

            Our theme this year was the story of Daniel in the lions’ den. I had the privilege of playing Daniel while Mary McManus was a very convincing and often very funny prison guard.

           

            Although on one level our VBS was about Daniel, in reality all week we focused on something much more important than that wonderful old story.

           

            In Grace Hall, on the very first morning, Mary Lea asked the children a very important and profound question:

           

            “Where does God live?”

           

            Almost without exception, the children immediately pointed their index fingers up to the ceiling and the sky beyond.

           

            I’ve been thinking about that question all week. Where does God live in my life? Where and how do I meet God?

           

            Where does God live?

           

            Well, we have a good idea how the people of ancient Israel would have answered that question.

           

            They believed that in some mysterious way, God’s presence was in the Ark of the Covenant. In a sense, they believed that God lived in the Ark - which was a portable box or chest that, according to tradition, contained the two tablets of the Law that had been given by God to Moses.

            It was this Ark that, housed in a tent, had led the people of Israel on their long journey from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land.

            Where does God live? For the people of ancient Israel the answer was the Ark.

            If you’ve been here lately, you know that for the past few Sundays in church we’ve been hearing the story of the rise of David from lowly shepherd to God’s choice as Israel’s king.

            Last Sunday, we heard the story of David and all the people with him joyfully bringing the Ark to David’s capital city, to Jerusalem. It was, it seemed, the ultimate sign of God’s favor and support.

            Where does God live?

            Well, David would have answered, God lives in the Ark, which is now in my capital city. God lives in Jerusalem.

            Today we heard the next installment of the David story.

            God lives in the Ark, but David realizes that there’s something wrong with this picture.  He says to the prophet Nathan, “See now, I’m living in a house of cedar, but the ark of God stays in a tent.”

            To his credit, David realizes that he shouldn’t have a better living arrangement than God. So, with Nathan’s encouragement, David decides he’s going to build a house – a temple – for God.

            Not to be cynical, it’s possible that David’s motive was not quite so pure. After all, a magnificent temple housing the Ark would crown the glory and triumph of David’s rule.

            Well, God says no to a house – reminding Nathan and David and us – that God doesn’t need a fancy house or even a temple or even, for that matter, a beautiful church building.

            God turns the tables on David and says that God will give David a house, a dynasty. And we know that it will be David’s son and successor, Solomon, who builds the magnificent Temple in Jerusalem, providing an opulent house for God – whether God wants it or not.

           

            Where does God live?

            We Christians believe and proclaim that in and through Jesus, God lives among us in a new and amazing way.

            In Jesus we know what God is really like.

            Where does God live? God lives in Jesus Christ.

            Two thousand years ago at least some people recognized God’s power and presence in Jesus. These desperately hungry, lost, broken people reached out to Jesus over and over again.

            Mark tells us the people reached out so much that Jesus and the disciples “had no leisure to eat.” To escape the crowds for a while they went by boat to a deserted place, but that didn’t work.

                       

            And then later when they got out of the boat, people brought the sick to Jesus, desperate for his healing touch, desperate to be in the presence of God’s love and power.

            In many ways, two thousand years later, not much has changed.

            In Jesus, we know what God is really like.

            Where does God live? God lives in Jesus Christ.

            So, we still come flocking to Jesus. Just like those people two thousand years ago, we desperately hungry, lost, broken people reach out to him over and over again.  So, we come to this place week after week.

            It’s here that we meet Christ in Scripture and in our fellowship when we reach out our hands in peace to one another.

            It’s here that we meet Christ in the water of baptism, through which God makes an unbreakable bond with us.

            It’s here that we meet Christ in our prayers and our hymns.

            And, most of all, it’s here that we meet Christ in the bread and the wine, when in some mysterious way we take God into our bodies and into our hearts.

            But, as maybe David came to understand long ago, we know that God also lives beyond this ark, beyond this temple, beyond the walls of this sacred space.

            God lives where we reach out and offer service to one another, never asking for anything in return.

            God lives in the simple feeling of holding someone’s hand – that profound gesture and feeling, expressing love, friendship and comfort.

            God lives in the beauty and majesty of nature – in the pull of the tides, in the sparkling stars of the nighttime sky and even the steady purr of a cat on our lap or the bark of a dog that’s overjoyed to see us walk through the door.

            God lives all around us – if only we pay attention, if only we keep our eyes and ears open, if only we keep our hearts open.

            Where does God live? On that first day of Vacation Bible School, most of the children answered by pointing their index fingers to the sky.

            But, it turns out that our kids are much better theologians than that. Over the course of the week the kids put together a “God Sightings” board on which they listed different ways and places and people where they saw God.

            Where does God live? Here are some of the answers given by our children:

            “At the pool.”

            “At the mall.”

            “Building a sandcastle.”

            “On my hammock when I fell off but didn’t get hurt.”

            “In my heart.”

            “In my mommy and daddy.”

            “In my sister.”

            “When the doctor said I was OK.”

            “In the trees.”

            “In the Bible.”

            “In thunder.”

            “At night when I’m scared.”

            “In flowers.”

            “In the clouds.”

            “In a big hug from my aunt.”

            That’s where God lives in our kids’ lives. Where does God live in our lives?

            Where does God live?

            Amen.

           

           

            

The Love That Turns the World Downside Up

Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ

The Wedding of Stacey Small and Kyle Bossard

July 20, 2012

Colossians 3: 12-17

Psalm 67

Matthew 5: 1-10

The Love That Turns The World Downside Up

            We members of the clergy sometimes use a kind of shorthand when we talk about officiating at weddings. We’ll say something like, “Yes, I’m really looking forward to marrying Stacey and Kyle on Friday!”

            And, like all of you, I really have been looking forward to this great day when we celebrate the love and commitment of these two exceptionally fine people.

            But, I’ve been married for fifteen years so I’m not marrying anybody.

            Actually, my job is not so different from yours. We are all here as witnesses to this beautiful event. We’re here to cheer on Stacey and Kyle, promising our support and care not just for today but long after the tuxedos have been returned and the wedding dress has been carefully stored away.

             We witnesses are promising that we’ll be there for Stacey and Kyle during the years ahead, in good times and not so good.

            So, no surprise, today’s ceremony is all about love.

            But, this love isn’t just romantic love – though that kind of love is important and wonderful and anyone who knows these two knows that they are very much romantically in love.

            But, the love that God has given to Stacey and Kyle is much richer and much more life-giving and much longer-lasting than romantic love.

            The kind of love that God has given to Stacey and Kyle is the kind of love known in Greek as agape – the self-giving, self-sacrificial, self-emptying love of God.

            And those of us who know Stacey and Kyle know that they really do share agape love – the kind of love that inspires us to sacrifice for one another, the kind of love that moves us to put the needs of the other ahead of our own.

            They’ve shared this kind of love with each other for a while, but today here in this sacred space, in front of us and in front of God, Stacey and Kyle are publicly pledging to continue sharing God’s self-giving, self-sacrificial, self-emptying love with each other.

            Now, Stacey and Kyle, it’s wonderful for all of us to witness the love that you share with one another. And I don’t want to take attention away from the two of you on your big day. And, I don’t want to put any extra pressure on you. Well, maybe a little.

            But, this agape love that God has given to you and that you share with one another is much bigger and more important than the two of you.

            For our second reading today you chose what’s known as the Beatitudes – these challenging, mysterious and almost bizarre – teachings of Jesus.

            In the Beatitudes, Jesus offers a vision of a downside-up world in which the poor in spirit receive the kingdom of heaven, in which the mourners are comforted and the meek inherit the earth.

            In the Beatitudes, Jesus offers a vision of a downside-up world in which those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be filled, in which the merciful receive mercy, in which the pure in heart will see God and in which the peacemakers will be called children of God.

            Now, I don’t know about you, but that’s not really the world I usually see when I open up a newspaper, turn on the TV, or go online.

            But, that’s the kind of world that God has always meant for us to have – the kind of world that God has always dreamed for us to have.

             In his life, death and resurrection, Jesus shows us is that there is only one force powerful enough to turn broken old world downside-up.

            Agape – this love that God has given you and that you share with one another – is the only force powerful enough to turn our world downside-up.

            If you’re open to it, with God’s help, the love that you share will radiate through the streets of downtown Jersey City, down the halls of NYU, around your office, among your family, friends, colleagues - and if you’re so blessed, this love will live within your children.

            And, actually, those of us here today are more than just witnesses of your love. Because, if we’re open to it, the love that you share reminds all of us – single, married, divorced or widowed – that God has shared agape with all of us, too, and God expects us, each in our own way, to share that love with the world.

            Now, again, no pressure, but together your agape love and our agape love can maybe, just a little bit, tilt this broken old world of ours into the kind of world in which the hungry are filled and the peacemakers are called children of God.

            I don’t know, maybe that sounds far-fetched.

            But seeing the love that God has given you, the love you share with each other, and feeling the love that is today filling this sacred place, helps me believe that together, with God’s help, Stacey, Kyle and all of us, really can turn the world downside-up.

            Amen.

           

           

            

"Go Into Your Room and Shut the Door"

Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ

The Messenger

Associate’s Message

July 2012

“Go Into Your Room and Shut the Door”

I’ve mentioned many times before that one of my favorite things about Grace Church is the fact that we offer at least one public service of worship every day of the year. I am very much sustained by attending Morning and Evening Prayer, where usually I can just be a member of the congregation, listening and praying along with everyone else. As many of you know, we also have regularly scheduled Holy Eucharist services on Wednesday and Thursday morning, each with its own flavor and emphasis and both great gifts for those of us who attend regularly.

At a recent weekday Eucharist the gospel lesson was the passage from Matthew that we read every year on Ash Wednesday. Here are the opening verses (6:1-6):

Jesus said, "Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.

"So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

"And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”

This is always a challenging and awkward passage to deal with on Ash Wednesday when we’re all receiving a very visible and public sign of our Christian faith. But, although we should always be on guard against practicing our faith to impress other people, I happen to think that this is not a big issue for most of us at Grace Church today. Some of you probably remember a time when it was expected that nearly everyone went to church and so at least some people went primarily to see and be seen and maybe to connect with people with similar interests or of the same class.

At least around here, those days are long over. No one really cares – or is impressed – when they see us going to church. Today most of us come to church because we think it’s good for us. Today most of us come to church because we are fed by the Word of God, the prayers, the music, the fellowship and, most of all, the Body and Blood of Christ.

But, Jesus’ other point, the crucial importance of private and personal prayer, is one that I know challenges me and maybe you, too. Jesus’ point reminds us of the awesome and humbling truth that the God who made all that is wants to have a relationship with us – wants to know us and wants to be known by us. One of the most powerful and poignant moments in the whole Bible comes near the beginning. After Adam and Eve have disobeyed God they are frightened and ashamed. In the story we’re told that God comes through the garden looking for them asking the heartbreaking question, “Where are you?”

In a sense, God has never stopped asking that question. And we answer by setting aside time – even just a few minutes – for private prayer.

Easier said than done, I know. Many of us are busy and overburdened. Yet, there are prayer practices that we can fairly easily weave into our lives. Recently I heard a parishioner say that throughout her marriage each night she and her husband said the Lord’s Prayer together before going to sleep – a simple and beautiful practice she has continued on her own since his death.

When I’m at my best, I like to pray the Examen, a practice developed by Ignatius of Loyola. Essentially it’s a chance to take stock of my life in a prayerful way, to reflect on the times when I’ve been drawn to God and times when I’ve felt far from God. It’s a chance to ask forgiveness for the ways I’ve fallen short of the call to love and to ask God’s help to do better now and in the future.

Maybe you already have private prayer practices. If not, I encourage you to try carving out even just a minute or two – to “go into your room and shut the door” and begin answering God’s call to us. Jesus tells us that God will reward those who pray in secret. The reward isn’t health or wealth, but a deepening sense of God’s loving presence, giving us the faith and strength to face life’s many challenges and opportunities.