St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
November 28, 2010
Year A: The First Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 2:1-5
Romans 13:11-14
Psalm 122
Matthew 24:36-44
Look! Weep! Live!
Well, we made it - we’ve arrived at the start of a new church year. Today we begin the sacred season of Advent. Now that Thanksgiving has passed and the crowds have poured into the malls on “Black Friday,” the world has begun what it thinks of as preparing for Christmas – the busyness of buying and wrapping gifts, decorating, holiday parties and all the rest that leaves most of us pretty well wiped out by the time Christmas actually does arrive.
Here in church, it’s true that preparing for Christmas is part of what Advent is all about. Each Sunday we’ll light another Advent candle as we countdown to the day we celebrate Jesus’ birth.
But preparing for Christmas is just one part of what Advent is all about. The other part – and, really, the more important part - and also the part most of us would probably like to ignore – the other part of Advent is preparing for the end.
During Advent we’re supposed to prepare for the return of the Son of Man. During Advent we’re supposed to prepare for the last day - when in the words of today’s collect, Jesus will “come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the living and the dead.”
I guess most of us don’t give much thought to Jesus’ return, though it’s one-third of what we call “the mystery of faith.”
The first followers of Jesus expected that his return would happen very quickly – certainly within their lifetimes.
But, by the time the Gospel of Matthew was written a couple of generations had passed since the earthly lifetime of Jesus. Obviously Jesus had not returned as many had expected and hoped.
So, Matthew’s emphasis is clearly on the fact that, although they had expected Jesus to come back right away, they - and we – just don’t know when Jesus will return. In fact, the gospel tells us that Jesus himself doesn’t know when he will return.
The essential question for us is: how are we to live in the meantime?
Here Jesus is very clear. We are told to “keep awake.” We are told that we “must be ready.”
But, what exactly does that mean for us? What does it mean to keep awake and be ready?
Taking these words literally is a prescription for exhaustion and neurosis. Let’s face it, there’s no healthy way to live in a constant state of suspense. There’s no sane way to be constantly looking out our window asking, “Is he here yet?” “Is he here yet?” We would quickly drive ourselves - and everyone around us - crazy. Plus, nothing would get done.
So, in all seriousness, what does it mean for us to keep awake and to be ready?
I’ve been reading a book called Soul Making. It’s by Alan Jones, who was the dean of Grace Cathedral, the Episcopal cathedral in San Francisco. His book is about what he calls “the desert way of spirituality” – the Christian spirituality that grew out of the monasteries in the Egyptian deserts.
Jones boils desert spirituality into three great challenges: Look! Weep! Live!
Look! Weep! Live!
And that’s a good way to sum up how we Christians are to wait – how we are to keep awake – how we are to be ready for the return of Jesus at the end of time.
Look! Weep! Live!
Our first challenge is to look – to really pay attention – to see things as they really are.
Let’s face it, many of us consciously and subconsciously do as much as we can to look away – to not pay attention – to not see things as they really are. We busy ourselves with our tasks – some necessary, others not so much. We fill up our lives with noise and stuff. We text away as the world grinds on around us. We do everything we can to not look. We do everything we can to stay in our own little dream world.
But, what do we see if we look? Sometimes what we see is heartbreakingly beautiful. Last week I went to our day school’s Thanksgiving parade. As usual, it was fun to be with the happy children and their teachers. Before the parade, the children had a “banquet” of chicken nuggets and pie. Just before it was time to eat, I had stepped away to deal with some church business. By the time I returned the banquet was over and the tables were being taken down.
I didn’t give it a second thought. But, later a teacher told me that one of the children didn’t want to start eating because I wasn’t there. He protested, “But, what about Fr. Tom?!” Even at a young age, he understood the importance of hospitality and sharing. He understood that everyone has a place at the banquet.
Sometimes when we look what we see is heartbreakingly beautiful.
On the other hand, sometimes when we look what we see is heartbreakingly sad. I don’t need to tell you there is so much suffering and loss in the world and in our lives.
I once knew an elderly priest who became a close friend – he was sort of my spiritual grandfather. After he returned from fighting in the Pacific during World War II, he went to seminary and was ordained a priest. He and his wife had a rich ministry in exotic places ranging from Montana, to Beverly Hills, to…New Jersey.
By the time I knew him his wife had died and he had become blind. Walking had become painful and difficult. For the most part he was stuck in his apartment except to go out for doctors appointments or to church when he was able. He was totally dependent on others. I spent a lot of time at his apartment, benefiting a great deal from his wisdom, experience and kindness.
One day he was lamenting his current circumstances when he said, “My big mistake was thinking that things would always stay the same.”
I was stunned. Here was someone who over decades had been present at life-changing moments for thousands of people – births, weddings, divorces and deaths – someone who certainly knew better, yet, even he was able to fool himself into thinking that in his life things would be always the same – that somehow in his life there wouldn’t be change – that there wouldn’t be suffering and loss.
Sometimes when we look what we see is heartbreakingly sad.
Look! Weep! Live!
When we really look our natural reaction is to weep – to weep with joy at the boy who knows everyone has a place at the banquet – and to weep with sadness that in this life there is so much suffering and loss.
The weeping might take the form of real tears or it just might mean expanding our hearts to truly celebrate life’s joy and to mourn life’s sadness. And then, once we’ve really looked, once we have really wept, then we can really live. Then we can really live because we can see life as it really is. In the words of St. Paul in his letter to the Romans, it is now the moment for us to wake from sleep.
Look! Weep! Live!
Once we awaken from sleep, once we look and weep, then we really know our total dependence on a God who loves us more than we can begin to imagine.
Once we awaken from our sleep, once we look and weep, then we can experience God’s love made present in the child in the feeding trough.
Once we awaken from our sleep, once we look and weep, then we can experience God’s love made present in the innocent man nailed to a tree.
Once we awaken from our sleep, once we look and weep, then we can experience God’s love in the Christ who will return in glorious majesty and in loving mercy to judge the living and the dead.
So this is the start of a new year. It’s Advent. It’s time to wake up. It’s time to be ready. It’s time to look, weep and live.
Amen.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
A Different Kind of King. A Different Kind of Kingdom
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
November 21, 2010
Year C: The Last Sunday after Pentecost - Christ the King
Jeremiah 23:1-6
Canticle 4
Colossians 1:11-20
Luke 23:33-43
A Different Kind of King. A Different Kind of Kingdom
There’s been a lot of talk in the media lately about the initial public offering of stock in what’s being called “New GM.” – the General Motors that is emerging out of bankruptcy and leaving behind the broken and empty shell of “Old GM.” Apparently this has been expected to be the biggest initial public offering of stock in history – pretty amazing considering that not so long ago it looked like GM was going to sink under the weight of debt and poor leadership into oblivion.
Of course, we can still see “Old GM” in abandoned plants scattered around the country. We can still see “Old GM” in unemployment lines. And we can still see “Old GM” in tens of thousands of Oldsmobiles, Pontiacs and Saturns that are still out on the road.
Actually, Sue and I used to own a Saturn. Anyone else? It was nothing fancy but we liked it – that is, until it died suddenly one morning as Sue was driving to work on a busy elevated highway.
At first Saturn seemed kind of cool and cutting edge. GM claimed that with Saturn it was changing the way it made and sold cars. Do you remember Saturn’s advertising slogan?
“A different kind of car. A different kind of car company.”
I guess in the end Saturn turned out to be not different enough.
Here in church, today we have reached the last in the long line of Sundays after Pentecost. We’ve reached the last Sunday of the church year. We’re in white to celebrate Christ the King.
Thinking of Christ as king is a very old idea but celebrating Christ the King on the last Sunday before Advent is actually very new. In 1925 Pope Pius XI declared that the last Sunday in October would be set aside the celebration of Christ the King. And then in 1970 it was moved to the last Sunday of the church year – and many Anglican churches adopted the celebration.
So here we are. To be honest calling Christ the King can be problematic. History is filled with kings who were only concerned with their own power and prestige and wealth. The good kings are remembered so well because they were so few and far between.
Today, at least in Europe, kings live on as ceremonial figureheads and their families get a lot of tabloid attention. I bet you’ve all heard the Prince William is getting married next year.
I have nothing against Prince William, but Christ is a different kind of king. Christ has no palace and he has no jewels. Although he may wear crowns and elegant vestments in statues, in reality Christ is a different kind of king and he rules over a different kind of kingdom.
A different kind of king. A different kind of kingdom.
Today’s lessons highlight how Christ is a different kind of king. Look at what images the Church offers us on the last Sunday of the church year. Just as many of us are beginning to look ahead with a mixture of excitement and dread to the so-called holiday season, the Church sets aside this Sunday to celebrate Christ the King by presenting us with Jesus of Nazareth hanging in agony on the cross.
A different kind of king.
On this last Sunday of the year, the Church takes us back to the place that is called The Skull and makes us look up at Jesus, the crucified king hanging between two criminals, praying to the Father to forgive those who had nailed him there. There’s Jesus the crucified king watching as they cast lots to divide his clothing. There’s Jesus the crucified king being offered sour wine. There’s Jesus the crucified king hanging beneath the mocking inscription, “This is the king of the Jews.”
A different kind of king.
Of course, we know what happened next. Fast forward through the First Century. God raised Jesus on Easter Sunday. It didn’t take long for the first followers to understand that Jesus the crucified king is the Christ, God’s anointed one. The first followers realized that when they looked at Jesus they saw what God is really like.
The Good News began to spread throughout the Mediterranean world. In Jesus of Nazareth the God of the universe had become one of us – had lived, died and risen again. The stories were passed around, the bread was broken and the wine was poured out, over and over. The Body of Christ grew with each new convert. The Church grew with each new baptism.
Probably sometime near the end of the First Century a Christian – probably not Paul himself but someone writing under the name of Paul - sent a letter to the Colossians. And in that letter, the writer quoted from an extraordinarily grand hymn about Jesus that was probably known among the early Jesus followers - a hymn that we just heard read this morning:
“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers – all things have been created through him and for him.”
By the end of the First Century the followers of Jesus had come to understand that this rabbi from Galilee, this teacher and healer, this teller of parables, this crucified messiah, was the king.
A different kind of king.
Christ is a different kind of king who was born into a world of nobodies and he lives there still. Christ is a king who hung out with the sick and the outcasts and he hangs out with them still. Christ is a different kind of king who chose the unlikeliest of people to be his friends and disciples and he chooses them still.
A different kind of king. A different kind of kingdom.
Two weeks ago in the Beatitudes we heard Jesus’ clearest and most challenging description of the kingdom of God.
The kingdom of God is a different kind of kingdom. It’s a different kind of kingdom where the poor and the hungry and the weeping are blessed. It’s a different kind of kingdom where we are called to love our enemies and to do good to those who hate us.
It’s a different kind of kingdom where we are to turn our cheek when we are struck. It’s a different kind of kingdom where we are to give to everyone who begs of us. It’s a different kind of kingdom where if anyone takes away our goods, we are not to ask for them back.
It’s a different kind of kingdom where we are to do to others as we would have them do to us.
A different kind of king. A different kind of kingdom.
As we speak, out in the world there’s lots of hope and excitement as “New GM” is being born out of the broken pieces of “Old GM.” There’s lots of hope that this time GM really will produce a different kind of car; that this time GM really will be a different kind of car company.
We’ll see. But, here in church we can be sure that you and I were reborn in our baptism. We were reborn as followers of a different kind of king. We were reborn as residents of a different kind of kingdom.
Unfortunately, the sad truth is we often live as if we haven’t been reborn. The sad truth is that we live like everyone else, like the followers of the kings of this world. The sad truth is we live like we are residents of the kingdoms of this world.
Fortunately, the church gives us another chance. Another church year is about to start. Next Sunday it will be Advent – the holy season when we’ll be looking back to the birth of Jesus and looking ahead to the completion of the kingdom of God.
We have another chance to follow Christ the King. We have another chance to build the kingdom of God right here and now.
A different kind of king. A different kind of kingdom.
Amen.
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
November 21, 2010
Year C: The Last Sunday after Pentecost - Christ the King
Jeremiah 23:1-6
Canticle 4
Colossians 1:11-20
Luke 23:33-43
A Different Kind of King. A Different Kind of Kingdom
There’s been a lot of talk in the media lately about the initial public offering of stock in what’s being called “New GM.” – the General Motors that is emerging out of bankruptcy and leaving behind the broken and empty shell of “Old GM.” Apparently this has been expected to be the biggest initial public offering of stock in history – pretty amazing considering that not so long ago it looked like GM was going to sink under the weight of debt and poor leadership into oblivion.
Of course, we can still see “Old GM” in abandoned plants scattered around the country. We can still see “Old GM” in unemployment lines. And we can still see “Old GM” in tens of thousands of Oldsmobiles, Pontiacs and Saturns that are still out on the road.
Actually, Sue and I used to own a Saturn. Anyone else? It was nothing fancy but we liked it – that is, until it died suddenly one morning as Sue was driving to work on a busy elevated highway.
At first Saturn seemed kind of cool and cutting edge. GM claimed that with Saturn it was changing the way it made and sold cars. Do you remember Saturn’s advertising slogan?
“A different kind of car. A different kind of car company.”
I guess in the end Saturn turned out to be not different enough.
Here in church, today we have reached the last in the long line of Sundays after Pentecost. We’ve reached the last Sunday of the church year. We’re in white to celebrate Christ the King.
Thinking of Christ as king is a very old idea but celebrating Christ the King on the last Sunday before Advent is actually very new. In 1925 Pope Pius XI declared that the last Sunday in October would be set aside the celebration of Christ the King. And then in 1970 it was moved to the last Sunday of the church year – and many Anglican churches adopted the celebration.
So here we are. To be honest calling Christ the King can be problematic. History is filled with kings who were only concerned with their own power and prestige and wealth. The good kings are remembered so well because they were so few and far between.
Today, at least in Europe, kings live on as ceremonial figureheads and their families get a lot of tabloid attention. I bet you’ve all heard the Prince William is getting married next year.
I have nothing against Prince William, but Christ is a different kind of king. Christ has no palace and he has no jewels. Although he may wear crowns and elegant vestments in statues, in reality Christ is a different kind of king and he rules over a different kind of kingdom.
A different kind of king. A different kind of kingdom.
Today’s lessons highlight how Christ is a different kind of king. Look at what images the Church offers us on the last Sunday of the church year. Just as many of us are beginning to look ahead with a mixture of excitement and dread to the so-called holiday season, the Church sets aside this Sunday to celebrate Christ the King by presenting us with Jesus of Nazareth hanging in agony on the cross.
A different kind of king.
On this last Sunday of the year, the Church takes us back to the place that is called The Skull and makes us look up at Jesus, the crucified king hanging between two criminals, praying to the Father to forgive those who had nailed him there. There’s Jesus the crucified king watching as they cast lots to divide his clothing. There’s Jesus the crucified king being offered sour wine. There’s Jesus the crucified king hanging beneath the mocking inscription, “This is the king of the Jews.”
A different kind of king.
Of course, we know what happened next. Fast forward through the First Century. God raised Jesus on Easter Sunday. It didn’t take long for the first followers to understand that Jesus the crucified king is the Christ, God’s anointed one. The first followers realized that when they looked at Jesus they saw what God is really like.
The Good News began to spread throughout the Mediterranean world. In Jesus of Nazareth the God of the universe had become one of us – had lived, died and risen again. The stories were passed around, the bread was broken and the wine was poured out, over and over. The Body of Christ grew with each new convert. The Church grew with each new baptism.
Probably sometime near the end of the First Century a Christian – probably not Paul himself but someone writing under the name of Paul - sent a letter to the Colossians. And in that letter, the writer quoted from an extraordinarily grand hymn about Jesus that was probably known among the early Jesus followers - a hymn that we just heard read this morning:
“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers – all things have been created through him and for him.”
By the end of the First Century the followers of Jesus had come to understand that this rabbi from Galilee, this teacher and healer, this teller of parables, this crucified messiah, was the king.
A different kind of king.
Christ is a different kind of king who was born into a world of nobodies and he lives there still. Christ is a king who hung out with the sick and the outcasts and he hangs out with them still. Christ is a different kind of king who chose the unlikeliest of people to be his friends and disciples and he chooses them still.
A different kind of king. A different kind of kingdom.
Two weeks ago in the Beatitudes we heard Jesus’ clearest and most challenging description of the kingdom of God.
The kingdom of God is a different kind of kingdom. It’s a different kind of kingdom where the poor and the hungry and the weeping are blessed. It’s a different kind of kingdom where we are called to love our enemies and to do good to those who hate us.
It’s a different kind of kingdom where we are to turn our cheek when we are struck. It’s a different kind of kingdom where we are to give to everyone who begs of us. It’s a different kind of kingdom where if anyone takes away our goods, we are not to ask for them back.
It’s a different kind of kingdom where we are to do to others as we would have them do to us.
A different kind of king. A different kind of kingdom.
As we speak, out in the world there’s lots of hope and excitement as “New GM” is being born out of the broken pieces of “Old GM.” There’s lots of hope that this time GM really will produce a different kind of car; that this time GM really will be a different kind of car company.
We’ll see. But, here in church we can be sure that you and I were reborn in our baptism. We were reborn as followers of a different kind of king. We were reborn as residents of a different kind of kingdom.
Unfortunately, the sad truth is we often live as if we haven’t been reborn. The sad truth is that we live like everyone else, like the followers of the kings of this world. The sad truth is we live like we are residents of the kingdoms of this world.
Fortunately, the church gives us another chance. Another church year is about to start. Next Sunday it will be Advent – the holy season when we’ll be looking back to the birth of Jesus and looking ahead to the completion of the kingdom of God.
We have another chance to follow Christ the King. We have another chance to build the kingdom of God right here and now.
A different kind of king. A different kind of kingdom.
Amen.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Advent
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
November 14, 2010
Year C, Proper 28: The Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
Isaiah 65:17-25
Canticle 9
2 Thessalonians 3:6-13
Luke 21:5-19
It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Advent
If you’ve been in a store during the past few weeks you’ve noticed that Christmas decorations and signs are already beginning to go up. If they haven’t started already, soon there will be Christmas commercials on TV. And soon well-meaning Christians complain about how the secular world has twisted Christmas beyond our recognition. But all our moaning and groaning isn’t going to change the fact that this is the time of year when stores and companies make a big chunk of their money. So whether we like it or not – especially during this deep recession - out there in the world it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
But church is different. Here in church it’s beginning to look a lot like… Advent. In just two weeks we begin the holy season of Advent – the season when we look back to the events leading up to the birth of the Messiah in the unlikeliest and most humble of places. In just two weeks we begin Advent – the season when we look ahead to the end; when we look ahead to the completion of the kingdom of God – “the new heavens and the new earth.”
Today’s Gospel lesson is a powerful reminder that it’s beginning to look a lot like Advent. This year we’ve been making our way through the Gospel of Luke. The best guess of scholars is that Luke wrote his Gospel around the year 80, some 50 years after the earthly lifetime of Jesus. Needless to say, much had happened in those 50 years: the crucifixion, resurrection and ascension of Jesus; the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost; the unexpected spread of the Good News among the gentiles; the persecution of the first Christians; the horrifying destruction of the Jerusalem temple by the Romans in the year 70 and the Jewish-Roman War of the 70s. Luke’s first readers and hearers would have been well aware of all these amazing and traumatic events.
In today’s passage we are approaching the end of Luke’s account of Jesus’ ministry. Today we find Jesus and some of his followers are in the Jerusalem Temple.
It’s worth pausing here and reminding ourselves just how central the Temple was in the lives of Jews in the First Century. It was seen as the holiest place in the universe – the place where, in a sense, God lived. It was the center of prayer and especially of sacrifice. It was the place where the covenant between God and God’s people was lived out in ritual day after day.
The Temple of Jesus’ day was what’s called the Second Temple. It had been reconstructed by Herod the Great in an attempt to win popular approval. According to ancient sources it was one of the most spectacular buildings of its time.
So imagine the scene – here’s Jesus the teacher and prophet from the countryside surrounded by his country bumpkin followers who were dazzled by this extraordinary building – with its “beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God.”
In the midst of this spectacular setting Jesus makes what must have been a terrifying prophecy: “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.”
Then Jesus warns about false prophets, wars and insurrections, and even natural disasters.
Finally, Jesus gets personal, predicting that his followers would be arrested and persecuted. And then he says, “this will give you an opportunity to testify.”
Luke’s first readers and hearers would have known what we know – that all of this has come to pass and continues to come to pass.
It’s beginning to look like Advent – we can see the outlines of the kingdom of God – we know what the new heavens and the new earth will look like. In fact, we heard Jesus’ vision of God’s kingdom right here just last week.
God’s kingdom is the new earth where the poor and the hungry and the weeping will be blessed.
And last week we heard how we can do our part to build the kingdom of God right here and now. To build the kingdom of God we must love our enemies, do good to those who hate us, pray for those who abuse us.
To build the kingdom of God we must turn the other cheek and give to everyone who begs of us.
To build the kingdom of God, to build the new heavens and the new earth, we must do to others as we would have them do to us.
So, what’s holding us back? What’s delaying the kingdom of God?
Well, I think it’s all the things that Jesus warns us about in today’s gospel – all of which might be summed up as our attachments. It’s our attachments that hold us back from testifying through our actions and our words about the love of God that we experience in Jesus Christ. It’s our attachments that delay the kingdom of God.
Sometimes we’re attached to our buildings just as the Jewish people of the First Century were attached to the Temple. But, even that magnificent temple couldn’t contain the power and love of God – and its destruction did nothing to weaken God’s presence in the world.
This past week at Chapel House we had the latest in a long and expensive list of physical plant issues. We found out that one of the furnaces at Chapel House needed to be replaced, to the tune of $5000. I half-joked to someone at the diocese that since building maintenance takes so much of my time I’d like my next job to be as rector of a storefront church or one of a church that rents a movie theatre for services.
But, in all seriousness, I know it’s hard but we can’t get attached to our buildings. Our buildings are not the church. We are the church. And God help us if our buildings get in the way of the kingdom of God.
Jesus warns us about false prophets and sure enough sometimes it’s our attachment to false prophets that delays the kingdom of God. Right now all across the land there are powerful preachers proclaiming the so-called “Prosperity Gospel.” Their gospel says that if you follow the rules God will reward you with a nice house and fancy cars and all the rest. Unfortunately, many thousands have gotten attached to these preachers. Sure enough it seems like it’s the preachers who are prospering the most.
Or sometimes we get attached to the false prophets who proclaim a negative Christianity that’s all about what we’re against and who’s not invited. And each time we get attached to that kind of Christian leader, the kingdom of God gets delayed a little more.
But, by far the strongest of our attachments is the attachment to our own lives and to the lives of those we love.
Some of you know that not long before we moved to Florida Sue and I found out that our cat, Noelle, had cancer of the jaw. It was devastating news because we loved her so much. And, to be honest, it’s hard to imagine two people more attached to their cat.
On Friday we made the very painful decision to put Noelle to sleep. It meant the two of us letting go of our attachment to her. And, as hard as it was – and still is – when we let go of our attachment to her, when we stopped trying to hold on to her, then we loved her more deeply and more purely than ever.
So, more than ever I understand Jesus’ call to let go of our attachments because then we really are free – free to live the lives we were meant to live – free to love God with our whole self and to love our neighbors, and even our pets, as ourselves.
When we can let go of our attachments, then we really are free to do the only work that really satisfies us – the work we were born to do – the work of building the kingdom of God right here and now.
It’s beginning to look a lot like Advent. We’re beginning to look back to the birth of the Messiah. And we’re beginning to look ahead to the completion of the kingdom of God – the creation of a new heavens and a new earth.
With God’s help, let’s set aside our attachments and get to work.
Amen.
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
November 14, 2010
Year C, Proper 28: The Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
Isaiah 65:17-25
Canticle 9
2 Thessalonians 3:6-13
Luke 21:5-19
It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Advent
If you’ve been in a store during the past few weeks you’ve noticed that Christmas decorations and signs are already beginning to go up. If they haven’t started already, soon there will be Christmas commercials on TV. And soon well-meaning Christians complain about how the secular world has twisted Christmas beyond our recognition. But all our moaning and groaning isn’t going to change the fact that this is the time of year when stores and companies make a big chunk of their money. So whether we like it or not – especially during this deep recession - out there in the world it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
But church is different. Here in church it’s beginning to look a lot like… Advent. In just two weeks we begin the holy season of Advent – the season when we look back to the events leading up to the birth of the Messiah in the unlikeliest and most humble of places. In just two weeks we begin Advent – the season when we look ahead to the end; when we look ahead to the completion of the kingdom of God – “the new heavens and the new earth.”
Today’s Gospel lesson is a powerful reminder that it’s beginning to look a lot like Advent. This year we’ve been making our way through the Gospel of Luke. The best guess of scholars is that Luke wrote his Gospel around the year 80, some 50 years after the earthly lifetime of Jesus. Needless to say, much had happened in those 50 years: the crucifixion, resurrection and ascension of Jesus; the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost; the unexpected spread of the Good News among the gentiles; the persecution of the first Christians; the horrifying destruction of the Jerusalem temple by the Romans in the year 70 and the Jewish-Roman War of the 70s. Luke’s first readers and hearers would have been well aware of all these amazing and traumatic events.
In today’s passage we are approaching the end of Luke’s account of Jesus’ ministry. Today we find Jesus and some of his followers are in the Jerusalem Temple.
It’s worth pausing here and reminding ourselves just how central the Temple was in the lives of Jews in the First Century. It was seen as the holiest place in the universe – the place where, in a sense, God lived. It was the center of prayer and especially of sacrifice. It was the place where the covenant between God and God’s people was lived out in ritual day after day.
The Temple of Jesus’ day was what’s called the Second Temple. It had been reconstructed by Herod the Great in an attempt to win popular approval. According to ancient sources it was one of the most spectacular buildings of its time.
So imagine the scene – here’s Jesus the teacher and prophet from the countryside surrounded by his country bumpkin followers who were dazzled by this extraordinary building – with its “beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God.”
In the midst of this spectacular setting Jesus makes what must have been a terrifying prophecy: “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.”
Then Jesus warns about false prophets, wars and insurrections, and even natural disasters.
Finally, Jesus gets personal, predicting that his followers would be arrested and persecuted. And then he says, “this will give you an opportunity to testify.”
Luke’s first readers and hearers would have known what we know – that all of this has come to pass and continues to come to pass.
It’s beginning to look like Advent – we can see the outlines of the kingdom of God – we know what the new heavens and the new earth will look like. In fact, we heard Jesus’ vision of God’s kingdom right here just last week.
God’s kingdom is the new earth where the poor and the hungry and the weeping will be blessed.
And last week we heard how we can do our part to build the kingdom of God right here and now. To build the kingdom of God we must love our enemies, do good to those who hate us, pray for those who abuse us.
To build the kingdom of God we must turn the other cheek and give to everyone who begs of us.
To build the kingdom of God, to build the new heavens and the new earth, we must do to others as we would have them do to us.
So, what’s holding us back? What’s delaying the kingdom of God?
Well, I think it’s all the things that Jesus warns us about in today’s gospel – all of which might be summed up as our attachments. It’s our attachments that hold us back from testifying through our actions and our words about the love of God that we experience in Jesus Christ. It’s our attachments that delay the kingdom of God.
Sometimes we’re attached to our buildings just as the Jewish people of the First Century were attached to the Temple. But, even that magnificent temple couldn’t contain the power and love of God – and its destruction did nothing to weaken God’s presence in the world.
This past week at Chapel House we had the latest in a long and expensive list of physical plant issues. We found out that one of the furnaces at Chapel House needed to be replaced, to the tune of $5000. I half-joked to someone at the diocese that since building maintenance takes so much of my time I’d like my next job to be as rector of a storefront church or one of a church that rents a movie theatre for services.
But, in all seriousness, I know it’s hard but we can’t get attached to our buildings. Our buildings are not the church. We are the church. And God help us if our buildings get in the way of the kingdom of God.
Jesus warns us about false prophets and sure enough sometimes it’s our attachment to false prophets that delays the kingdom of God. Right now all across the land there are powerful preachers proclaiming the so-called “Prosperity Gospel.” Their gospel says that if you follow the rules God will reward you with a nice house and fancy cars and all the rest. Unfortunately, many thousands have gotten attached to these preachers. Sure enough it seems like it’s the preachers who are prospering the most.
Or sometimes we get attached to the false prophets who proclaim a negative Christianity that’s all about what we’re against and who’s not invited. And each time we get attached to that kind of Christian leader, the kingdom of God gets delayed a little more.
But, by far the strongest of our attachments is the attachment to our own lives and to the lives of those we love.
Some of you know that not long before we moved to Florida Sue and I found out that our cat, Noelle, had cancer of the jaw. It was devastating news because we loved her so much. And, to be honest, it’s hard to imagine two people more attached to their cat.
On Friday we made the very painful decision to put Noelle to sleep. It meant the two of us letting go of our attachment to her. And, as hard as it was – and still is – when we let go of our attachment to her, when we stopped trying to hold on to her, then we loved her more deeply and more purely than ever.
So, more than ever I understand Jesus’ call to let go of our attachments because then we really are free – free to live the lives we were meant to live – free to love God with our whole self and to love our neighbors, and even our pets, as ourselves.
When we can let go of our attachments, then we really are free to do the only work that really satisfies us – the work we were born to do – the work of building the kingdom of God right here and now.
It’s beginning to look a lot like Advent. We’re beginning to look back to the birth of the Messiah. And we’re beginning to look ahead to the completion of the kingdom of God – the creation of a new heavens and a new earth.
With God’s help, let’s set aside our attachments and get to work.
Amen.
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Saints Are Not Statues!
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
November 7, 2010
Year C: All Saints’ Sunday
Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18
Psalm 149
Ephesians 1:11-23
Luke 6:20-31
Saints Are Not Statues!
Many of you know that in addition to serving as chaplain here I’m also rector of St. Michael’s, a church about four miles away in northwestern Gainesville.
What you might not know is that there’s a day school at St. Michaels with 62 children ranging from age three to six.
Part of my duties is to lead a chapel service with all of the students and teachers once a month. My first service was a week and a half ago.
When I was planning the chapel service I thought I would talk about Halloween and how it’s connected to the following day, All Saints’ Day – you know, the day when we’ve already eaten all the candy we really like and now we’re starting to get to the bottom of the bag. (Which here at the chapel means a bowl filled with Whoppers, apparently our least favorite candy. Look in the refrigerator if you don’t believe me!)
Anyway, I began by asking the children if any of them could tell me what a saint is.
Most of them looked around or down at the floor, unsure and maybe a little nervous that I’d call on them and put them on the spot.
But two children raised their hands with what looked like some confidence.
I called on the first and he struggled to put his answer into words. Finally, he stretched out his arms and said, “They’re made out of stone and they stand like this.”
And then the other one chimed in, “Yeah, they’re statues!”
The teachers chuckled and the other kids looked confused and I wondered how to explain all of this to children ranging in age from three to six…
As I thought about this exchange later on, though, I realized that these kids were on to something. Even we adults think of the saints as statues. We think of them as these impossibly perfect figures who were and are forever frozen in positions of prayer and piety.
All too often we think of the saints as statues and not as flesh and blood human beings who faced many of the same challenges, obstacles, and temptations that we do.
All too often we think of the saints as statues and not as flesh and blood human beings whose lives were scarred by sin and whose hearts were broken by disappointment.
Dorothy Day, one of the founders of the Catholic Worker movement during the last century once said, “Don’t call me a saint. I don’t want to be dismissed so easily.”
All too often we think of the saints as statues – and dismiss them almost as if they weren’t quite real.
So, if the saints aren’t statues, what exactly are they?
Well, as the rector in my previous parish used to say, there are big S and small S saints.
The big S saints are famous Christians who’ve been formally honored. You’ll appreciate the irony that there is a movement underway to have Dorothy Day formally canonized as a saint in the Roman Catholic Church. Some people who revere her rightly worry that she’s on her way to being as easily dismissed as a statue!
On the other hand, the little S saints are people past and present that nobody’s ever heard of – the people whose faith is known to God alone. In the words of the charming hymn that I’m sure some of you know: These are the saints we can meet “in school, or in lanes, or at sea, in church, or in trains, or in shops, or at tea, for the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.”
The truth is there’s not much difference between the big S and small S saints. The saints are people who have glimpsed Jesus’ vision of the kingdom of God. The saints are people who recognize that if we are to build the kingdom of God then, in the words of today’s reading from Ephesians, we need “to set our hope on Christ.”
In today’s gospel lesson we heard Luke’s account of the Beatitudes – Jesus’ clearest and most challenging expression of his vision of the kingdom of God.
Most scholars think that Luke’s very concrete, here and now version is closer to what Jesus actually said than Matthew who softens it a bit by making Jesus’ vision seem abstract, impersonal and spiritual.
In Matthew, Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit; blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.”
But in Luke’s more concrete, more economic and social, more here and now version Jesus says, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.”
The saints, past and present, set their hope in Christ because it takes hope and faith in Christ to imagine how we can build the kingdom of God here and now – to build the kingdom for the poor, to build the kingdom where the hungry will be fed, to build the kingdom where the millions of people all around the world who weep from grief will laugh with joy.
It’s a big and tough job to build the kingdom of God right here and now. But, it’s a job for flawed human beings just like us – and definitely not a job for a statue. It’s a big and tough job to turn Jesus’ vision of the kingdom into a physical reality right here in Gainesville, right here in America, right here on earth.
To do that job first we need to set our hope on Christ. And then Jesus tells us very clearly how we can do this big and tough job of building the kingdom of God – though we may not like what he has to say.
To build the kingdom of God, right here and now Jesus says, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.”
Hmm. How does that sound? Do we still want to be saints?
To build the kingdom of God right here and now Jesus says, “If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.”
Hmm. How does that sound? Do we still want to be saints?
To build the kingdom of God right here and now Jesus says, “Do to others as you would have them do to you.”
How does that sound? Do we still want to be saints?
Dorothy Day was born into a religiously indifferent Episcopalian family in the late 19th Century. As a young woman she was inspired and angered by the poverty and suffering that she saw all around her. She got involved in radical politics but thought Christianity was irrelevant nonsense.
And, like all of us, Dorothy was scarred by sin. In her case, she was haunted by an extramarital affair and a resulting abortion.
Yet, God was able to use this imperfect, flesh and blood human being to help build the kingdom. After several powerful experiences, including the birth of her daughter, Dorothy was able to glimpse Jesus’ vision of the kingdom of God and work to make it a reality here on earth. After her conversion, she not only fed the poor but asked the uncomfortable question of why there was so much poverty in a country that’s so rich. She lived in voluntary poverty, wearing donated clothing and living in community in New York’s Lower East Side. She angered people by preaching and practicing total nonviolence.
Dorothy Day set her hope on Christ and then, with God’s help, went about building the kingdom of God right here on earth.
And, each in our own way, that’s the work you and I are called to. With God’s help, we are called to be saints – whether big S or small S is up to God.
Building the kingdom of God here on earth, right here in Gainesville, is a big job. It’s a job not for statues but for flawed and scarred flesh and blood human beings who set their hope on Christ. It’s a job, with God’s help, for people just like us.
Saints aren’t statues, so together we can say the words of the hymn, “The saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.”
Amen.
November 7, 2010
Year C: All Saints’ Sunday
Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18
Psalm 149
Ephesians 1:11-23
Luke 6:20-31
Saints Are Not Statues!
Many of you know that in addition to serving as chaplain here I’m also rector of St. Michael’s, a church about four miles away in northwestern Gainesville.
What you might not know is that there’s a day school at St. Michaels with 62 children ranging from age three to six.
Part of my duties is to lead a chapel service with all of the students and teachers once a month. My first service was a week and a half ago.
When I was planning the chapel service I thought I would talk about Halloween and how it’s connected to the following day, All Saints’ Day – you know, the day when we’ve already eaten all the candy we really like and now we’re starting to get to the bottom of the bag. (Which here at the chapel means a bowl filled with Whoppers, apparently our least favorite candy. Look in the refrigerator if you don’t believe me!)
Anyway, I began by asking the children if any of them could tell me what a saint is.
Most of them looked around or down at the floor, unsure and maybe a little nervous that I’d call on them and put them on the spot.
But two children raised their hands with what looked like some confidence.
I called on the first and he struggled to put his answer into words. Finally, he stretched out his arms and said, “They’re made out of stone and they stand like this.”
And then the other one chimed in, “Yeah, they’re statues!”
The teachers chuckled and the other kids looked confused and I wondered how to explain all of this to children ranging in age from three to six…
As I thought about this exchange later on, though, I realized that these kids were on to something. Even we adults think of the saints as statues. We think of them as these impossibly perfect figures who were and are forever frozen in positions of prayer and piety.
All too often we think of the saints as statues and not as flesh and blood human beings who faced many of the same challenges, obstacles, and temptations that we do.
All too often we think of the saints as statues and not as flesh and blood human beings whose lives were scarred by sin and whose hearts were broken by disappointment.
Dorothy Day, one of the founders of the Catholic Worker movement during the last century once said, “Don’t call me a saint. I don’t want to be dismissed so easily.”
All too often we think of the saints as statues – and dismiss them almost as if they weren’t quite real.
So, if the saints aren’t statues, what exactly are they?
Well, as the rector in my previous parish used to say, there are big S and small S saints.
The big S saints are famous Christians who’ve been formally honored. You’ll appreciate the irony that there is a movement underway to have Dorothy Day formally canonized as a saint in the Roman Catholic Church. Some people who revere her rightly worry that she’s on her way to being as easily dismissed as a statue!
On the other hand, the little S saints are people past and present that nobody’s ever heard of – the people whose faith is known to God alone. In the words of the charming hymn that I’m sure some of you know: These are the saints we can meet “in school, or in lanes, or at sea, in church, or in trains, or in shops, or at tea, for the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.”
The truth is there’s not much difference between the big S and small S saints. The saints are people who have glimpsed Jesus’ vision of the kingdom of God. The saints are people who recognize that if we are to build the kingdom of God then, in the words of today’s reading from Ephesians, we need “to set our hope on Christ.”
In today’s gospel lesson we heard Luke’s account of the Beatitudes – Jesus’ clearest and most challenging expression of his vision of the kingdom of God.
Most scholars think that Luke’s very concrete, here and now version is closer to what Jesus actually said than Matthew who softens it a bit by making Jesus’ vision seem abstract, impersonal and spiritual.
In Matthew, Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit; blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.”
But in Luke’s more concrete, more economic and social, more here and now version Jesus says, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.”
The saints, past and present, set their hope in Christ because it takes hope and faith in Christ to imagine how we can build the kingdom of God here and now – to build the kingdom for the poor, to build the kingdom where the hungry will be fed, to build the kingdom where the millions of people all around the world who weep from grief will laugh with joy.
It’s a big and tough job to build the kingdom of God right here and now. But, it’s a job for flawed human beings just like us – and definitely not a job for a statue. It’s a big and tough job to turn Jesus’ vision of the kingdom into a physical reality right here in Gainesville, right here in America, right here on earth.
To do that job first we need to set our hope on Christ. And then Jesus tells us very clearly how we can do this big and tough job of building the kingdom of God – though we may not like what he has to say.
To build the kingdom of God, right here and now Jesus says, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.”
Hmm. How does that sound? Do we still want to be saints?
To build the kingdom of God right here and now Jesus says, “If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.”
Hmm. How does that sound? Do we still want to be saints?
To build the kingdom of God right here and now Jesus says, “Do to others as you would have them do to you.”
How does that sound? Do we still want to be saints?
Dorothy Day was born into a religiously indifferent Episcopalian family in the late 19th Century. As a young woman she was inspired and angered by the poverty and suffering that she saw all around her. She got involved in radical politics but thought Christianity was irrelevant nonsense.
And, like all of us, Dorothy was scarred by sin. In her case, she was haunted by an extramarital affair and a resulting abortion.
Yet, God was able to use this imperfect, flesh and blood human being to help build the kingdom. After several powerful experiences, including the birth of her daughter, Dorothy was able to glimpse Jesus’ vision of the kingdom of God and work to make it a reality here on earth. After her conversion, she not only fed the poor but asked the uncomfortable question of why there was so much poverty in a country that’s so rich. She lived in voluntary poverty, wearing donated clothing and living in community in New York’s Lower East Side. She angered people by preaching and practicing total nonviolence.
Dorothy Day set her hope on Christ and then, with God’s help, went about building the kingdom of God right here on earth.
And, each in our own way, that’s the work you and I are called to. With God’s help, we are called to be saints – whether big S or small S is up to God.
Building the kingdom of God here on earth, right here in Gainesville, is a big job. It’s a job not for statues but for flawed and scarred flesh and blood human beings who set their hope on Christ. It’s a job, with God’s help, for people just like us.
Saints aren’t statues, so together we can say the words of the hymn, “The saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.”
Amen.
Saints Are Not Statues!
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
November 7, 2010
Year C: All Saints’ Sunday
Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18
Psalm 149
Ephesians 1:11-23
Luke 6:20-31
Saints Are Not Statues!
A week and a half ago I had the pleasure of leading my first chapel service for the children and teachers of our day school. I have to tell you it was a blast. The 62 children all clearly love being part of our school, where they are very much loved and cared for by their teachers.
Those of us who aren’t around here during the week can forget the school is even back there. But, I’ve discovered that the day school is a big part of why St. Michael’s is such a special place. In the coming months, my hope is that we can find ways to bring the church and our school even closer together. As I said to Kelly Pence, the head of school, “We’re in this together – we are you and you are us.”
Anyway, when I was planning the chapel service I thought I would talk about Halloween and how it’s connected to the following day, All Saints’ Day – you know, the day when we’ve already eaten all the candy we really like and now we’re starting to get to the bottom of the bag.
So, I began by asking the children if any of them could tell me what a saint is.
Most of them looked around or down at the floor, unsure and maybe a little nervous that I’d call on them and put them on the spot.
But two children raised their hands with what looked like some confidence.
I called on the first and he struggled to put his answer into words. Finally, he stretched out his arms and said, “They’re made out of stone and they stand like this.”
And then the other one chimed in, “Yeah, they’re statues!”
The teachers chuckled and the other kids looked confused and I wondered how to explain all of this to children ranging in age from three to six…
As I thought about this exchange later on, though, I realized that these kids were on to something. Even we adults think of the saints as statues. We think of them as these impossibly perfect figures who were and are forever frozen in positions of prayer and piety.
All too often we think of the saints as statues and not as flesh and blood human beings who faced many of the same challenges, obstacles, and temptations that we do.
All too often we think of the saints as statues and not as flesh and blood human beings whose lives were scarred by sin and whose hearts were broken by disappointment.
Dorothy Day, one of the founders of the Catholic Worker movement during the last century once said, “Don’t call me a saint. I don’t want to be dismissed so easily.”
All too often we think of the saints as statues – and dismiss them almost as if they weren’t quite real.
So, if the saints aren’t statues, what exactly are they?
Well, as the rector in my previous parish used to say, there are big S and small S saints.
The big S saints are famous Christians who’ve been formally honored. You’ll appreciate the irony that there is a movement underway to have Dorothy Day formally canonized as a saint in the Roman Catholic Church. Some people who revere her rightly worry that she’s on her way to being as easily dismissed as a statue!
On the other hand, the little S saints are people past and present that nobody’s ever heard of – the people whose faith is known to God alone. In the words of the charming hymn that I’m sure some of you know: These are the saints we can meet “in school, or in lanes, or at sea, in church, or in trains, or in shops, or at tea, for the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.”
The truth is there’s not much difference between the big S and small S saints. The saints are people who have glimpsed Jesus’ vision of the kingdom of God. The saints are people who recognize that if we are to build the kingdom of God then, in the words of today’s reading from Ephesians, we need “to set our hope on Christ.”
In today’s gospel lesson we heard Luke’s account of the Beatitudes – Jesus’ clearest and most challenging expression of his vision of the kingdom of God.
Most scholars think that Luke’s very concrete, here and now version is closer to what Jesus actually said than Matthew who softens it a bit by making Jesus’ vision seem abstract, impersonal and spiritual.
In Matthew, Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit; blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.”
But in Luke’s more concrete, more economic and social, more here and now version Jesus says, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.”
The saints, past and present, set their hope in Christ because it takes hope and faith in Christ to imagine how we can build the kingdom of God here and now – to build the kingdom for the poor, to build the kingdom where the hungry will be fed, to build the kingdom where the millions of people all around the world who weep from grief will laugh with joy.
It’s a big and tough job to build the kingdom of God right here and now. But, it’s a job for flawed human beings just like us – and definitely not a job for a statue. It’s a big and tough job to turn Jesus’ vision of the kingdom into a physical reality right here in Gainesville, right here in America, right here on earth.
To do that job first we need to set our hope on Christ. And then Jesus tells us very clearly how we can do this big and tough job of building the kingdom of God – though we may not like what he has to say.
To build the kingdom of God, right here and now Jesus says, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.”
Hmm. How does that sound? Do we still want to be saints?
To build the kingdom of God right here and now Jesus says, “If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.”
Hmm. How does that sound? Do we still want to be saints?
To build the kingdom of God right here and now Jesus says, “Do to others as you would have them do to you.”
How does that sound? Do we still want to be saints?
Dorothy Day was born into a religiously indifferent Episcopalian family in the late 19th Century. As a young woman she was inspired and angered by the poverty and suffering that she saw all around her. She got involved in radical politics but thought Christianity was irrelevant nonsense.
And, like all of us, Dorothy was scarred by sin. In her case, she was haunted by an extramarital affair and a resulting abortion.
Yet, God was able to use this imperfect, flesh and blood human being to help build the kingdom. After several powerful experiences, including the birth of her daughter, Dorothy was able to glimpse Jesus’ vision of the kingdom of God and work to make it a reality here on earth. After her conversion, she not only fed the poor but asked the uncomfortable question of why there was so much poverty in a country that’s so rich. She lived in voluntary poverty, wearing donated clothing and living in community in New York’s Lower East Side. She angered people by preaching and practicing total nonviolence.
Dorothy Day set her hope on Christ and then, with God’s help, went about building the kingdom of God right here on earth.
And, each in our own way, that’s the work you and I are called to. With God’s help, we are called to be saints – whether big S or small S is up to God.
Building the kingdom of God here on earth, right here in Gainesville, is a big job. It’s a job not for statues but for flawed and scarred flesh and blood human beings who set their hope on Christ. It’s a job, with God’s help, for people just like us.
Saints aren’t statues, so together we can say the words of the hymn, “The saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.”
Amen.
November 7, 2010
Year C: All Saints’ Sunday
Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18
Psalm 149
Ephesians 1:11-23
Luke 6:20-31
Saints Are Not Statues!
A week and a half ago I had the pleasure of leading my first chapel service for the children and teachers of our day school. I have to tell you it was a blast. The 62 children all clearly love being part of our school, where they are very much loved and cared for by their teachers.
Those of us who aren’t around here during the week can forget the school is even back there. But, I’ve discovered that the day school is a big part of why St. Michael’s is such a special place. In the coming months, my hope is that we can find ways to bring the church and our school even closer together. As I said to Kelly Pence, the head of school, “We’re in this together – we are you and you are us.”
Anyway, when I was planning the chapel service I thought I would talk about Halloween and how it’s connected to the following day, All Saints’ Day – you know, the day when we’ve already eaten all the candy we really like and now we’re starting to get to the bottom of the bag.
So, I began by asking the children if any of them could tell me what a saint is.
Most of them looked around or down at the floor, unsure and maybe a little nervous that I’d call on them and put them on the spot.
But two children raised their hands with what looked like some confidence.
I called on the first and he struggled to put his answer into words. Finally, he stretched out his arms and said, “They’re made out of stone and they stand like this.”
And then the other one chimed in, “Yeah, they’re statues!”
The teachers chuckled and the other kids looked confused and I wondered how to explain all of this to children ranging in age from three to six…
As I thought about this exchange later on, though, I realized that these kids were on to something. Even we adults think of the saints as statues. We think of them as these impossibly perfect figures who were and are forever frozen in positions of prayer and piety.
All too often we think of the saints as statues and not as flesh and blood human beings who faced many of the same challenges, obstacles, and temptations that we do.
All too often we think of the saints as statues and not as flesh and blood human beings whose lives were scarred by sin and whose hearts were broken by disappointment.
Dorothy Day, one of the founders of the Catholic Worker movement during the last century once said, “Don’t call me a saint. I don’t want to be dismissed so easily.”
All too often we think of the saints as statues – and dismiss them almost as if they weren’t quite real.
So, if the saints aren’t statues, what exactly are they?
Well, as the rector in my previous parish used to say, there are big S and small S saints.
The big S saints are famous Christians who’ve been formally honored. You’ll appreciate the irony that there is a movement underway to have Dorothy Day formally canonized as a saint in the Roman Catholic Church. Some people who revere her rightly worry that she’s on her way to being as easily dismissed as a statue!
On the other hand, the little S saints are people past and present that nobody’s ever heard of – the people whose faith is known to God alone. In the words of the charming hymn that I’m sure some of you know: These are the saints we can meet “in school, or in lanes, or at sea, in church, or in trains, or in shops, or at tea, for the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.”
The truth is there’s not much difference between the big S and small S saints. The saints are people who have glimpsed Jesus’ vision of the kingdom of God. The saints are people who recognize that if we are to build the kingdom of God then, in the words of today’s reading from Ephesians, we need “to set our hope on Christ.”
In today’s gospel lesson we heard Luke’s account of the Beatitudes – Jesus’ clearest and most challenging expression of his vision of the kingdom of God.
Most scholars think that Luke’s very concrete, here and now version is closer to what Jesus actually said than Matthew who softens it a bit by making Jesus’ vision seem abstract, impersonal and spiritual.
In Matthew, Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit; blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.”
But in Luke’s more concrete, more economic and social, more here and now version Jesus says, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.”
The saints, past and present, set their hope in Christ because it takes hope and faith in Christ to imagine how we can build the kingdom of God here and now – to build the kingdom for the poor, to build the kingdom where the hungry will be fed, to build the kingdom where the millions of people all around the world who weep from grief will laugh with joy.
It’s a big and tough job to build the kingdom of God right here and now. But, it’s a job for flawed human beings just like us – and definitely not a job for a statue. It’s a big and tough job to turn Jesus’ vision of the kingdom into a physical reality right here in Gainesville, right here in America, right here on earth.
To do that job first we need to set our hope on Christ. And then Jesus tells us very clearly how we can do this big and tough job of building the kingdom of God – though we may not like what he has to say.
To build the kingdom of God, right here and now Jesus says, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.”
Hmm. How does that sound? Do we still want to be saints?
To build the kingdom of God right here and now Jesus says, “If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.”
Hmm. How does that sound? Do we still want to be saints?
To build the kingdom of God right here and now Jesus says, “Do to others as you would have them do to you.”
How does that sound? Do we still want to be saints?
Dorothy Day was born into a religiously indifferent Episcopalian family in the late 19th Century. As a young woman she was inspired and angered by the poverty and suffering that she saw all around her. She got involved in radical politics but thought Christianity was irrelevant nonsense.
And, like all of us, Dorothy was scarred by sin. In her case, she was haunted by an extramarital affair and a resulting abortion.
Yet, God was able to use this imperfect, flesh and blood human being to help build the kingdom. After several powerful experiences, including the birth of her daughter, Dorothy was able to glimpse Jesus’ vision of the kingdom of God and work to make it a reality here on earth. After her conversion, she not only fed the poor but asked the uncomfortable question of why there was so much poverty in a country that’s so rich. She lived in voluntary poverty, wearing donated clothing and living in community in New York’s Lower East Side. She angered people by preaching and practicing total nonviolence.
Dorothy Day set her hope on Christ and then, with God’s help, went about building the kingdom of God right here on earth.
And, each in our own way, that’s the work you and I are called to. With God’s help, we are called to be saints – whether big S or small S is up to God.
Building the kingdom of God here on earth, right here in Gainesville, is a big job. It’s a job not for statues but for flawed and scarred flesh and blood human beings who set their hope on Christ. It’s a job, with God’s help, for people just like us.
Saints aren’t statues, so together we can say the words of the hymn, “The saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.”
Amen.
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