St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
February 27, 2011
Year A: The Eighth Sunday after Epiphany
Isaiah 49:8-16a
Psalm 131
1 Corinthians 4:1-5
Matthew 6:24-34
Striving for the Worry-Free Kingdom
Over the past few Sundays we’ve been making our way through the Sermon on the Mount – this extraordinary collection of Jesus sayings assembled by the Evangelist Matthew.
This is one of the best-known parts of the gospel – and also one of the most challenging.
It begins with Jesus’ extraordinary vision of the downside-up kingdom of God – a kingdom in which the poor in spirit, the mournful, the meek, the peacemakers and the persecuted are blessed.
Then Jesus moves on to give us very challenging instructions on how to build the kingdom of God, right here and now.
To build the kingdom we are called to reconcile with our brothers and sisters.
To build the kingdom we are called to strive for self-control.
To build the kingdom we are called to honor our vows.
To build the kingdom we are called to turn the other cheek, give away our cloak, walk the extra mile, and to love our enemies.
To build the kingdom we are called to be perfect as God is perfect.
A very tall order.
In my sermon last week I pointed out that God has the highest expectations of us but that God also knows that in this life at least we’re not going to meet those highest expectations.
So, God invites us to try. And when we stumble and fall, God always stands ready to forgive. The God who has inscribed us on the divine palms, always stands ready to pour out the grace and strength we need to continue.
And now we come to the section of the Sermon on the Mount we heard today.
Actually, there are really three parts to what we heard today.
First, Jesus says we cannot serve God and wealth.
Then Jesus tells us not to worry about our material needs.
Finally, Jesus says to focus on today because tomorrow will bring its own worries.
I have to tell you that following these teachings are a big struggle for me – and I bet for most of you, too.
It’s hard to stay focused on what’s most important.
It’s hard not to worry about material needs – and it’s hard not to worry about the future.
About three and a half years ago I was hired to serve as curate at Grace Church in Madison, New Jersey. At the time Sue and I were living in a house we owned in our hometown of Jersey City. When we had bought this 90 year-old row house I think we both believed that this where we’d live for a long time – maybe even the rest of our lives.
But, now my new job created an unexpected complication. It came with a very nice house in Madison.
So, after some thought, we decided to move to Madison - great decision - and to rent our Jersey City house.
Big mistake. I’ll spare you the details, except to say some tenants don’t always pay their rent and can also really do a lot of damage to a house.
Finally, I guess about two years ago, “Tom and Sue Landlord” decided to sell the house.
You may remember that this was right around the time the housing market was collapsing. There were real doubts that we’d be able to sell this place anytime soon. Month after month went by of us paying a mortgage on an empty house. Despite having already spent a lot of money on home improvements, the inspection report on this nearly a century old house was forty pages of nausea.
It’s not much of an exaggeration to say that worrying about this house took over my life.
I didn’t really care about making money on our investment. Instead, I worried that we’d never be able to sell it. I worried that we’d always be absentee landlords. I worried that for decades we’d be paying the mortgage on this house where we’d probably never live again. I worried that it would be one expensive thing after another – new roof, new windows, new furnace, foundation cracks, termite infestations.
I worried and I worried.
I did my best to focus on my work, but, to be honest, I was at best distracted by – and at worst consumed by – worries about this stupid house.
Meanwhile, during those dismal months God was at work all around me I was missing out on much of what God was doing – much, but not all of it. A few people close to me knew just how much the house thing was bothering me. And they prayed for us.
I know they did because I could actually feel God using their prayers to keep me going, giving me strength in a very bleak time.
My all-consuming worrying about selling our house is exactly what Jesus warns about – what Jesus teaches us – in today’s gospel.
Jesus calls us to mindfulness – to focus on what’s most important.
Jesus calls us to mindfulness – to focus on loving God and loving our neighbor
Jesus calls us to mindfulness – to focus on building the kingdom of God, today, right here and now.
Notice that Jesus doesn’t say that our material needs are unimportant.
Instead, Jesus says, “Indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.”
And then here comes the key to the whole passage:
“But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”
Jesus is teaching us to focus on building the kingdom of God, today, right here and now.
Jesus is teaching us, urging us, expecting us, to give our lives to building the kingdom in which the poor in spirit, the mournful, the meek, the peacemakers and the persecuted are blessed.
Jesus is teaching us, urging us, expecting us, to build the kingdom by reconciling with our brothers and sisters.
- To build the kingdom by striving for self-control.
- To build the kingdom by honoring our vows.
- To build the kingdom by turning the other cheek, giving away our cloak, walking the extra mile, and by loving our enemies.
- To build the kingdom we are called to be perfect as God is perfect.
And when we commit to this challenging work – when we commit to building the kingdom of God - sure enough our broken and worried world is transformed just a little bit more into the kingdom that God always intended, the kingdom that God dreams of, still.
We saw a glimpse of that transformation at St. Michael’s just a few weeks ago when tragedy struck two of our parishioners.
As word got out I immediately started getting calls and emails from parishioners asking how they could help – people trying to be perfect as God is perfect.
In the end, the extraordinary generosity and hospitality offered by this little parish was a powerful sign of what’s possible when we strive first to build the kingdom of God, today, right here and now.
When we strive first to build the kingdom of God, our worries about tomorrow fade.
When we strive first to build the kingdom of God, today, right here and now, God’s abundance and love is shared with all – material needs are met – and houses are eventually sold.
When we strive first to build the kingdom of God, today, right here and now, then we begin live the worry-free lives of love that God always intended for us – the worry-free lives of love that God dreams for us still.
Amen.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
The Highest Expectations
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
February 20, 2011
Year A: The Seventh Sunday after Epiphany
Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18
Psalm 119:33-40
1 Corinthians 3:10-11,16-23
Matthew 5:38-48
The Highest Expectations
Some of you know that before I got into the priest business I spent about fifteen years as a high school history teacher. I loved teaching, and still miss it – the interaction with students, the challenge of trying to come up with new ways to teach familiar material, the chance to work closely with colleagues.
And, yes, I admit it, I miss the amazingly long summer vacations.
Grading tests and essays was no fun, but the rest of it was great.
Over the years I got to be pretty good, though not perfect, at sizing up students. I got to be pretty good at knowing who was really trying and who was trying to pull a fast one. I could recognize students who really wanted to learn and those I had to keep my eye on during tests.
All of us have been students and some of us still are, so I don’t need to tell you that we all get pretty good at sizing up teachers. We can tell when a teacher (or a professor) doesn’t really care, is just phoning it in, is burnt out and is maybe only hanging in there until retirement.
And we can also tell when a teacher is passionate about his or her subject. We can tell when a teacher genuinely cares about his or her students.
And, if we’re really fortunate, every once in a while we encounter a teacher who can see something extraordinary in us - something that maybe we can’t see in ourselves.
These are the teachers who challenge us with the highest expectations.
It can be frightening to encounter a teacher who sees something in us that we don’t see – or, maybe, don’t want to see.
Jesus is often described as the greatest teacher of all. And listening to the gospel lessons these past couple of Sundays, there’s no question that Jesus the great teacher sees something extraordinary in all of us.
Jesus sees something in us that maybe we can’t see - or don’t want to see. Jesus the great teacher challenges us, his followers, with the highest expectations of all.
Over the past couple of Sundays we’ve been making our way through the collection of Jesus sayings that Matthew organized into what we call the Sermon on the Mount.
Matthew’s gospel was probably written near the end of the First Century, several generations after the earthly lifetime of Jesus.
With the passage of time, you’d think that Matthew might water down Jesus’ sayings a bit – to make it easier for people to say yes to Jesus.
You’d think that Matthew would lower Jesus’ expectations.
Instead, Matthew collects the most demanding of Jesus’ teachings and organizes them into the sermon that we’ve been hearing in church these past couple of weeks.
Jesus the great teacher uses vivid, maybe even exaggerated, language, but it’s clear that because Jesus sees something extraordinary in us, Jesus has the highest expectations of us.
Obviously, following Jesus isn’t going to be an easy course.
Jesus says that if we call another “you fool” we will be punished in hell.
Jesus says that looking at someone with lust is just as bad as acting on our desires.
Jesus says we should tear out our eye or cut off our hand if they are causing us to sin.
Jesus teaches us that we must take our marriage vows with the utmost seriousness.
And then just when we might have been considering dropping this difficult course, we have the sayings we heard today.
Jesus teaches us, do not resist evildoers, regardless of the consequences.
Jesus teaches us to give away our coat and our cloak, even if that leaves us naked.
Jesus teaches us to give to everyone who begs from us.
Jesus teaches us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us.
And finally, just when we might be ready to give up and transfer to another religion, Jesus concludes with, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”
Jesus sees something extraordinary in us so Jesus has the highest expectations of us.
What is it that Jesus sees in us?
At the very root of our tradition there is the bold, nearly absurd, recognition that we are made in the image of the God of the universe. We have a hard time seeing that in ourselves, because so often we sin - we mess up - we fall short.
But, despite our stumbling and fumbling, God sees far better than we do what’s inside us. We are created in the divine image.
Knowing who we are and what’s inside us, God’s command to us in Leviticus makes sense:
“You shall be holy, for I the LORD your God am holy.”
In other words, God says, “I made you to be like me. You really can be like me. So be like me!”
That means, God loves all, so we should, too.
God forgives all, so we should, too.
God gives to all, so we should, too.
The highest expectations.
Since we keep coming to church, I guess we’ve decided to stick with this most challenging course.
Let’s face it, though, we know that in this life we’ll never meet God’s highest expectations, the highest expectations expressed by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount.
Despite our best intentions, some marriages will end in divorce, and sometimes we’ll look someone who’s attractive.
Despite our best intentions, we won’t always turn the other cheek and we won’t always give to everyone who begs of us.
Despite our best intentions, we won’t always bring ourselves to pray for our enemies.
It sure seems like we’re going to fail, but the very good news is that although Jesus has the highest expectations for us, it’s actually not so hard to pass this course.
The only requirement is trusting in Christ and trying to follow God’s will.
The 20th Century monk and writer Thomas Merton summed up what’s required of us when he prayed:
MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
Amen.
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
February 20, 2011
Year A: The Seventh Sunday after Epiphany
Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18
Psalm 119:33-40
1 Corinthians 3:10-11,16-23
Matthew 5:38-48
The Highest Expectations
Some of you know that before I got into the priest business I spent about fifteen years as a high school history teacher. I loved teaching, and still miss it – the interaction with students, the challenge of trying to come up with new ways to teach familiar material, the chance to work closely with colleagues.
And, yes, I admit it, I miss the amazingly long summer vacations.
Grading tests and essays was no fun, but the rest of it was great.
Over the years I got to be pretty good, though not perfect, at sizing up students. I got to be pretty good at knowing who was really trying and who was trying to pull a fast one. I could recognize students who really wanted to learn and those I had to keep my eye on during tests.
All of us have been students and some of us still are, so I don’t need to tell you that we all get pretty good at sizing up teachers. We can tell when a teacher (or a professor) doesn’t really care, is just phoning it in, is burnt out and is maybe only hanging in there until retirement.
And we can also tell when a teacher is passionate about his or her subject. We can tell when a teacher genuinely cares about his or her students.
And, if we’re really fortunate, every once in a while we encounter a teacher who can see something extraordinary in us - something that maybe we can’t see in ourselves.
These are the teachers who challenge us with the highest expectations.
It can be frightening to encounter a teacher who sees something in us that we don’t see – or, maybe, don’t want to see.
Jesus is often described as the greatest teacher of all. And listening to the gospel lessons these past couple of Sundays, there’s no question that Jesus the great teacher sees something extraordinary in all of us.
Jesus sees something in us that maybe we can’t see - or don’t want to see. Jesus the great teacher challenges us, his followers, with the highest expectations of all.
Over the past couple of Sundays we’ve been making our way through the collection of Jesus sayings that Matthew organized into what we call the Sermon on the Mount.
Matthew’s gospel was probably written near the end of the First Century, several generations after the earthly lifetime of Jesus.
With the passage of time, you’d think that Matthew might water down Jesus’ sayings a bit – to make it easier for people to say yes to Jesus.
You’d think that Matthew would lower Jesus’ expectations.
Instead, Matthew collects the most demanding of Jesus’ teachings and organizes them into the sermon that we’ve been hearing in church these past couple of weeks.
Jesus the great teacher uses vivid, maybe even exaggerated, language, but it’s clear that because Jesus sees something extraordinary in us, Jesus has the highest expectations of us.
Obviously, following Jesus isn’t going to be an easy course.
Jesus says that if we call another “you fool” we will be punished in hell.
Jesus says that looking at someone with lust is just as bad as acting on our desires.
Jesus says we should tear out our eye or cut off our hand if they are causing us to sin.
Jesus teaches us that we must take our marriage vows with the utmost seriousness.
And then just when we might have been considering dropping this difficult course, we have the sayings we heard today.
Jesus teaches us, do not resist evildoers, regardless of the consequences.
Jesus teaches us to give away our coat and our cloak, even if that leaves us naked.
Jesus teaches us to give to everyone who begs from us.
Jesus teaches us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us.
And finally, just when we might be ready to give up and transfer to another religion, Jesus concludes with, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”
Jesus sees something extraordinary in us so Jesus has the highest expectations of us.
What is it that Jesus sees in us?
At the very root of our tradition there is the bold, nearly absurd, recognition that we are made in the image of the God of the universe. We have a hard time seeing that in ourselves, because so often we sin - we mess up - we fall short.
But, despite our stumbling and fumbling, God sees far better than we do what’s inside us. We are created in the divine image.
Knowing who we are and what’s inside us, God’s command to us in Leviticus makes sense:
“You shall be holy, for I the LORD your God am holy.”
In other words, God says, “I made you to be like me. You really can be like me. So be like me!”
That means, God loves all, so we should, too.
God forgives all, so we should, too.
God gives to all, so we should, too.
The highest expectations.
Since we keep coming to church, I guess we’ve decided to stick with this most challenging course.
Let’s face it, though, we know that in this life we’ll never meet God’s highest expectations, the highest expectations expressed by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount.
Despite our best intentions, some marriages will end in divorce, and sometimes we’ll look someone who’s attractive.
Despite our best intentions, we won’t always turn the other cheek and we won’t always give to everyone who begs of us.
Despite our best intentions, we won’t always bring ourselves to pray for our enemies.
It sure seems like we’re going to fail, but the very good news is that although Jesus has the highest expectations for us, it’s actually not so hard to pass this course.
The only requirement is trusting in Christ and trying to follow God’s will.
The 20th Century monk and writer Thomas Merton summed up what’s required of us when he prayed:
MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
Amen.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
The Way: Funeral Sermon for William M. "Bill" Foster
Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
February 12, 2011
Funeral Sermon for William M. “Bill” Foster
Wisdom 3:1-5, 9
Revelation 21:2-7
John 14:1-6a
The Way
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 as the messiah was going to die.
But, that last time gathered around the table, the truth must have begun to sink in.
The 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 – the last of the four gospels to be written – probably around the end of the First Century – several generations after the earthly lifetime of Jesus.
That means this gospel is the product of God’s inspiration working through decades of Christian reflection on the life, death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth.
In this gospel, Jesus reassures the disciples that although he is leaving them, they know the way – 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 offers his bold, reassuring and, yes, cryptic response: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”
And we’ve been wondering what that means ever since.
How exactly is Jesus the way, the truth and the life?
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.”
The way.
Jesus is the way not only by believing in him, but by following his example – following his example of loving service to those who were closest to him and his example of loving service to those who were the least – the forgotten and the outcast.
We see the way when we look at Jesus and when we look at those who have followed him most faithfully.
We walk the way when we follow the example of Jesus and those who have followed him most faithfully.
And that’s why you and I are so fortunate to have known Bill Foster. We are so blessed to have seen right here in our midst this remarkable man walk the way of Jesus. We have seen Bill walk the way of loving service.
We have seen Bill walk the way of loving service to those who were closest to him.
We have seen the way in the profoundly deep love he shared with Lyn over more than fifty years of marriage.
I glimpsed that love one last time when I visited with Bill and Lyn at their home a few weeks ago. We all knew it would be the last time the three of us would be together. Bill was painfully thin and obviously failing.
But, he only acknowledged his own struggles by mentioning that he no longer had enough energy to stand and shave. Instead, he grew what I thought was a rather distinguished-looking beard – good-looking right to the end!
Instead of talking about his own troubles, he redirected the conversation away from himself – and to his concern about the toll caring for him was taking on Lyn.
We have seen the way in the quiet and deep reservoir of love he poured out onto his children, Beth and Jim and later, Mark and Vickie. We have seen the way in the love and pride he poured out onto his grandchildren, Kristin and Erik.
And we saw the way when Bill’s solid core of love and faith helped this family endure Beth’s wrenching and unspeakably sad final illness and death.
We have seen the way when Bill offered loving service to the countless little leaguers and to the students at Upsala and Drew, for whom he was both mentor and coach.
We have seen the way when Bill offered loving service here at Grace Church, where half a century ago Fr. Neiman, that great talent scout, spotted Bill and Lyn right away. Bill played a key role in the enormous project to expand this church building, making possible decades of ministry and growth.
He served the vestry and taught Sunday School. (And as anyone who has ever been in those positions can tell you – sometimes you’d rather was people’s feet.)
And for over fifty years he served in the crucially important ministry of usher. Thinking about all of those years of service, I’ve been wondering how much of this church’s steady and longstanding health is a result of Bill’s ushering? I mean, who wouldn’t want to be a member of a church where you were first greeted by Bill Foster?!
Finally, we have seen the way in Bill’s loving service to the forgotten and to the outcast.
You know that Bill was in remarkable shape. He was still coaching baseball until just a few years ago and was a regular at the Y until nearly the end. Now, if I were in my 80s and healthy, just about the last place I’d ever want to visit would be a nursing home.
Yet, that’s where Bill was each month as the crew from Grace Church offered its prayer service. That’s where Bill was handing out bulletins, gamely singing the hymns, or assisting residents who were very likely quite a bit younger than himself.
In his own quiet way, Bill was passionate about the work of the Community Soup Kitchen in Morristown. Some of the most powerful prayers I heard during my time here at Grace were the prayers offered by Bill Foster as we gathered - maybe with some trepidation - just before the soup kitchen doors were opened.
In his prayer Bill always reminded us of how privileged we were to feed the hungry – and how by feeding the hungry we were feeding Christ himself.
There in that soup kitchen Bill and we were feeding Christ, the way, the truth and the life.
As his death approached Jesus reassured the disciples that, although he was leaving them, they knew the way – they knew the way to the place where we will all be reunited.
Jesus told them, “I am the way, the truth and the life.”
The way is to put our trust in Christ and live a life of loving service.
The way is for each of us in our own way to get on our hands and knees and wash the feet of one another.
The way is for each of us in our own way to get on our hands and knees and wash the feet of the forgotten and the outcast.
We know the way because we have seen it. We’ve seen the way in the lives of people who have followed Jesus’ example.
We know the way because we have seen Bill Foster.
Amen.
February 12, 2011
Funeral Sermon for William M. “Bill” Foster
Wisdom 3:1-5, 9
Revelation 21:2-7
John 14:1-6a
The Way
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 as the messiah was going to die.
But, that last time gathered around the table, the truth must have begun to sink in.
The 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 – the last of the four gospels to be written – probably around the end of the First Century – several generations after the earthly lifetime of Jesus.
That means this gospel is the product of God’s inspiration working through decades of Christian reflection on the life, death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth.
In this gospel, Jesus reassures the disciples that although he is leaving them, they know the way – 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 offers his bold, reassuring and, yes, cryptic response: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”
And we’ve been wondering what that means ever since.
How exactly is Jesus the way, the truth and the life?
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.”
The way.
Jesus is the way not only by believing in him, but by following his example – following his example of loving service to those who were closest to him and his example of loving service to those who were the least – the forgotten and the outcast.
We see the way when we look at Jesus and when we look at those who have followed him most faithfully.
We walk the way when we follow the example of Jesus and those who have followed him most faithfully.
And that’s why you and I are so fortunate to have known Bill Foster. We are so blessed to have seen right here in our midst this remarkable man walk the way of Jesus. We have seen Bill walk the way of loving service.
We have seen Bill walk the way of loving service to those who were closest to him.
We have seen the way in the profoundly deep love he shared with Lyn over more than fifty years of marriage.
I glimpsed that love one last time when I visited with Bill and Lyn at their home a few weeks ago. We all knew it would be the last time the three of us would be together. Bill was painfully thin and obviously failing.
But, he only acknowledged his own struggles by mentioning that he no longer had enough energy to stand and shave. Instead, he grew what I thought was a rather distinguished-looking beard – good-looking right to the end!
Instead of talking about his own troubles, he redirected the conversation away from himself – and to his concern about the toll caring for him was taking on Lyn.
We have seen the way in the quiet and deep reservoir of love he poured out onto his children, Beth and Jim and later, Mark and Vickie. We have seen the way in the love and pride he poured out onto his grandchildren, Kristin and Erik.
And we saw the way when Bill’s solid core of love and faith helped this family endure Beth’s wrenching and unspeakably sad final illness and death.
We have seen the way when Bill offered loving service to the countless little leaguers and to the students at Upsala and Drew, for whom he was both mentor and coach.
We have seen the way when Bill offered loving service here at Grace Church, where half a century ago Fr. Neiman, that great talent scout, spotted Bill and Lyn right away. Bill played a key role in the enormous project to expand this church building, making possible decades of ministry and growth.
He served the vestry and taught Sunday School. (And as anyone who has ever been in those positions can tell you – sometimes you’d rather was people’s feet.)
And for over fifty years he served in the crucially important ministry of usher. Thinking about all of those years of service, I’ve been wondering how much of this church’s steady and longstanding health is a result of Bill’s ushering? I mean, who wouldn’t want to be a member of a church where you were first greeted by Bill Foster?!
Finally, we have seen the way in Bill’s loving service to the forgotten and to the outcast.
You know that Bill was in remarkable shape. He was still coaching baseball until just a few years ago and was a regular at the Y until nearly the end. Now, if I were in my 80s and healthy, just about the last place I’d ever want to visit would be a nursing home.
Yet, that’s where Bill was each month as the crew from Grace Church offered its prayer service. That’s where Bill was handing out bulletins, gamely singing the hymns, or assisting residents who were very likely quite a bit younger than himself.
In his own quiet way, Bill was passionate about the work of the Community Soup Kitchen in Morristown. Some of the most powerful prayers I heard during my time here at Grace were the prayers offered by Bill Foster as we gathered - maybe with some trepidation - just before the soup kitchen doors were opened.
In his prayer Bill always reminded us of how privileged we were to feed the hungry – and how by feeding the hungry we were feeding Christ himself.
There in that soup kitchen Bill and we were feeding Christ, the way, the truth and the life.
As his death approached Jesus reassured the disciples that, although he was leaving them, they knew the way – they knew the way to the place where we will all be reunited.
Jesus told them, “I am the way, the truth and the life.”
The way is to put our trust in Christ and live a life of loving service.
The way is for each of us in our own way to get on our hands and knees and wash the feet of one another.
The way is for each of us in our own way to get on our hands and knees and wash the feet of the forgotten and the outcast.
We know the way because we have seen it. We’ve seen the way in the lives of people who have followed Jesus’ example.
We know the way because we have seen Bill Foster.
Amen.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
Who We Really Are
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
February 6, 2011
Year A: The Fifth Sunday after Epiphany
Isaiah 58:1-12
Psalm 112:1-10
1 Corinthians 2:1-16
Matthew 5:13-20
Who We Really Are
Many of you know that once a month I lead the chapel service for the 60 or so children of the St. Michael’s Day School.
It’s a fun and challenging experience to engage these wonderful children and their teachers for about twenty minutes. Since it’s not my usual demographic, I struggle to come up with something that will be relevant and meaningful for their young lives.
A couple of weeks ago I thought I’d talk about the wonderful truth that God loves us, even though we’re not perfect.
So, I began by asking the kids if they knew what the word “perfect” meant. Lots of hands went up. Many of the children could use “perfect” in context such as “My house is perfect.”
That comment set off a chain reaction of children telling me about their houses. “My house is white.” “My house is white and blue.”
You know how it goes.
Finally, we pretty much nailed down what “perfect” means.
Then I asked, “How many of you are perfect?”
Without hesitation, every hand shot up.
Low self-esteem is obviously not much of a problem for this group!
I was reminded of that experience with those “perfect” children when I began to think about today’s gospel lesson.
We pick up in the Gospel of Matthew right where we left of last week. Matthew presents us with the teachings of Jesus, organized into what’s called the Sermon on the Mount.
Last week we heard the Beatitudes, Jesus’ vision of the downside-up kingdom of God. In God’s the kingdom the blessed are the poor in spirit, the mourners, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. In God’s kingdom the blessed are the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.
Jesus’ vision of God’s kingdom is powerful. It’s a vision of a kingdom that has already been established – these people are already blessed. But, it’s also a vision of a kingdom that has not yet been completed.
So, we – the disciples of Jesus - are invited to be part of the building of God’s kingdom here and now.
Now, Jesus switches gears. Instead of teaching about the kingdom that is already here and not yet here, Jesus addresses his disciples – addresses us – directly, using the present tense.
Jesus tells us something important, something truly awesome, about ourselves.
No, Jesus doesn’t tell us we’re perfect.
But, what Jesus does tell us is almost as amazing.
Jesus says to us, “You are the salt of the earth.”
In a world that all too often is flat and drab, Jesus tells us that we are the ones who can bring out the flavors of hope and joy.
In a world that all too often is obsessed with what doesn’t last, with what doesn’t satisfy, with what adds to our burdens rather than gives us hope and joy, we are the ones who can bring out the flavor of life as God intends it to be.
Then Jesus tells us, “You are the light of the world.”
In a world that is all too often shadowed and gloomy with suffering and despair, Jesus tells us that we are the ones who are light and we can shine our light – the light of Christ - into the world’s darkness.
Now, before we get too full of ourselves and like the children raise our hands and claim perfection (after all, we’re the salt of the earth – and the light of the world!), Jesus gives a couple of warnings.
“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.”
“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house.”
Jesus tells us we are the salt of the earth. We are the light of the world.
This is who we are.
We will build God’s kingdom only by being who we really are.
Our challenge is to live like we are the salt of the earth; to live like we are the light of the world.
But it’s not so easy to be who we really are.
The forces of the world are very powerful. The temptations to be like everyone else – to just look out for number one, to pile up possessions, to look away from injustice, to bend or break the rules like everyone else, to despise the other - to be like everyone else – these are very great temptations. These are temptations that, sadly, you and I give into all the time.
Being like everyone else makes our salt lose its saltiness. Being like everyone else hides our light under a bushel basket.
So, the truth is, we need to practice at being the salt and light that we really are.
And that’s a big reason why we come here. Each time we gather here we practice living lives as the salt of the earth and the light of the world. In this building, as part of this community, we practice being different from the world.
We practice being the salt of the earth each time we gather here and find ourselves sitting with people we may not know and maybe don’t particularly like, and yet embracing them as beloved sisters and brothers in Christ.
We practice being the light of the world each time we gather here and in front of everyone display our weakness - admit that we’ve sinned, we’ve missed the mark, we’re not perfect – and ask God for forgiveness.
We practice being the salt of the earth each time we gather here and stretch out our hands to receive the Body and Blood of Christ – everyone receiving the same portion – everyone drinking from a common cup.
We practice being the light of the world each time when we prepare to leave this place and we remind ourselves of who we really are by thanking God for accepting us as living members of the Body of Christ.
And just before we go, we ask God’s help to be who we really are – to be the salt of the earth, to be the light of the world - to be the pure in heart, the peacemakers, to be those who hunger and thirst for righteousness - to be the builders of the kingdom of God.
(“And we humbly beseech thee, O heavenly Father, so to assist us with thy grace, that we may continue in that holy fellowship, and do all such good works as thou hast prepared for us to walk in.”)
“Send us now into the world in peace, and grant us strength and courage to love and serve you with gladness and singleness of heart.”
In today’s gospel, Jesus tells his disciples – tells us - us who we really are.
We’re not perfect, but we are the salt of the earth. On an earth that is often flat and drab, we are the ones who can bring out the flavors of hope and joy.
We’re not perfect, but we are the light of the world.
In a world that is all too often shadowed and gloomy with suffering and despair, we are the ones who are light and can shine our light – the light of Christ - into darkness.
We’re not perfect, so we’ve come here to practice at being who we really are. Soon, though, this practice session will be over.
Then once again, we’ll have the chance to walk through those doors. Then once again, we’ll have the chance to go out into the world and, with God’s help, be who we really are – the salt of the earth and the light of the world, the builders of the kingdom of God.
Thanks be to God!
Amen.
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
February 6, 2011
Year A: The Fifth Sunday after Epiphany
Isaiah 58:1-12
Psalm 112:1-10
1 Corinthians 2:1-16
Matthew 5:13-20
Who We Really Are
Many of you know that once a month I lead the chapel service for the 60 or so children of the St. Michael’s Day School.
It’s a fun and challenging experience to engage these wonderful children and their teachers for about twenty minutes. Since it’s not my usual demographic, I struggle to come up with something that will be relevant and meaningful for their young lives.
A couple of weeks ago I thought I’d talk about the wonderful truth that God loves us, even though we’re not perfect.
So, I began by asking the kids if they knew what the word “perfect” meant. Lots of hands went up. Many of the children could use “perfect” in context such as “My house is perfect.”
That comment set off a chain reaction of children telling me about their houses. “My house is white.” “My house is white and blue.”
You know how it goes.
Finally, we pretty much nailed down what “perfect” means.
Then I asked, “How many of you are perfect?”
Without hesitation, every hand shot up.
Low self-esteem is obviously not much of a problem for this group!
I was reminded of that experience with those “perfect” children when I began to think about today’s gospel lesson.
We pick up in the Gospel of Matthew right where we left of last week. Matthew presents us with the teachings of Jesus, organized into what’s called the Sermon on the Mount.
Last week we heard the Beatitudes, Jesus’ vision of the downside-up kingdom of God. In God’s the kingdom the blessed are the poor in spirit, the mourners, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. In God’s kingdom the blessed are the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.
Jesus’ vision of God’s kingdom is powerful. It’s a vision of a kingdom that has already been established – these people are already blessed. But, it’s also a vision of a kingdom that has not yet been completed.
So, we – the disciples of Jesus - are invited to be part of the building of God’s kingdom here and now.
Now, Jesus switches gears. Instead of teaching about the kingdom that is already here and not yet here, Jesus addresses his disciples – addresses us – directly, using the present tense.
Jesus tells us something important, something truly awesome, about ourselves.
No, Jesus doesn’t tell us we’re perfect.
But, what Jesus does tell us is almost as amazing.
Jesus says to us, “You are the salt of the earth.”
In a world that all too often is flat and drab, Jesus tells us that we are the ones who can bring out the flavors of hope and joy.
In a world that all too often is obsessed with what doesn’t last, with what doesn’t satisfy, with what adds to our burdens rather than gives us hope and joy, we are the ones who can bring out the flavor of life as God intends it to be.
Then Jesus tells us, “You are the light of the world.”
In a world that is all too often shadowed and gloomy with suffering and despair, Jesus tells us that we are the ones who are light and we can shine our light – the light of Christ - into the world’s darkness.
Now, before we get too full of ourselves and like the children raise our hands and claim perfection (after all, we’re the salt of the earth – and the light of the world!), Jesus gives a couple of warnings.
“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.”
“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house.”
Jesus tells us we are the salt of the earth. We are the light of the world.
This is who we are.
We will build God’s kingdom only by being who we really are.
Our challenge is to live like we are the salt of the earth; to live like we are the light of the world.
But it’s not so easy to be who we really are.
The forces of the world are very powerful. The temptations to be like everyone else – to just look out for number one, to pile up possessions, to look away from injustice, to bend or break the rules like everyone else, to despise the other - to be like everyone else – these are very great temptations. These are temptations that, sadly, you and I give into all the time.
Being like everyone else makes our salt lose its saltiness. Being like everyone else hides our light under a bushel basket.
So, the truth is, we need to practice at being the salt and light that we really are.
And that’s a big reason why we come here. Each time we gather here we practice living lives as the salt of the earth and the light of the world. In this building, as part of this community, we practice being different from the world.
We practice being the salt of the earth each time we gather here and find ourselves sitting with people we may not know and maybe don’t particularly like, and yet embracing them as beloved sisters and brothers in Christ.
We practice being the light of the world each time we gather here and in front of everyone display our weakness - admit that we’ve sinned, we’ve missed the mark, we’re not perfect – and ask God for forgiveness.
We practice being the salt of the earth each time we gather here and stretch out our hands to receive the Body and Blood of Christ – everyone receiving the same portion – everyone drinking from a common cup.
We practice being the light of the world each time when we prepare to leave this place and we remind ourselves of who we really are by thanking God for accepting us as living members of the Body of Christ.
And just before we go, we ask God’s help to be who we really are – to be the salt of the earth, to be the light of the world - to be the pure in heart, the peacemakers, to be those who hunger and thirst for righteousness - to be the builders of the kingdom of God.
(“And we humbly beseech thee, O heavenly Father, so to assist us with thy grace, that we may continue in that holy fellowship, and do all such good works as thou hast prepared for us to walk in.”)
“Send us now into the world in peace, and grant us strength and courage to love and serve you with gladness and singleness of heart.”
In today’s gospel, Jesus tells his disciples – tells us - us who we really are.
We’re not perfect, but we are the salt of the earth. On an earth that is often flat and drab, we are the ones who can bring out the flavors of hope and joy.
We’re not perfect, but we are the light of the world.
In a world that is all too often shadowed and gloomy with suffering and despair, we are the ones who are light and can shine our light – the light of Christ - into darkness.
We’re not perfect, so we’ve come here to practice at being who we really are. Soon, though, this practice session will be over.
Then once again, we’ll have the chance to walk through those doors. Then once again, we’ll have the chance to go out into the world and, with God’s help, be who we really are – the salt of the earth and the light of the world, the builders of the kingdom of God.
Thanks be to God!
Amen.
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