St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
March 27, 2011
Year A: The Third Sunday in Lent
Exodus 17:1-7
Psalm 95
Romans 5:1-11
John 4:5-42
No Secrets are Hid
The story of the Samaritan woman at the well is found only in the Gospel of John.
Most scholars believe that the fourth gospel was the last to be written, sometime around the end of the First Century – decades after the earthly lifetime of Jesus.
This means that the Gospel of John is the product of divine inspiration working through a couple of generations of Christian reflection on the meaning of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection.
So, no surprise, the Gospel of John is the most polished and the most complex of the four.
We hear some of the gospel’s richness and complexity in the story of Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well.
Jesus smashes cultural and religious boundaries just by speaking with this woman.
First, she’s a woman and no rabbi should be speaking to a female stranger.
Second, she’s a Samaritan. We don’t know as much about the Samaritans as we’d like, but we do know that they were viewed themselves as faithful descendants of ancient Israel who rejected the importance of the Temple in Jerusalem. Relations between the Samaritans and the Jews were very poor.
Thanks to the famous parable in Luke we think of Samaritans as “good” but Jews in the First Century would have avoided Samaria and Samaritans as much as possible.
So, against that backdrop a tired Jesus has this remarkable encounter with the unnamed woman.
At first, typically for the Gospel of John, they seem to speak past each other. She almost comically misunderstands Jesus.
Jesus tells her he has living water and the woman notes that he doesn’t even have a bucket.
Jesus tells her that anyone who drinks this water will never thirst again. She says give me this water so I don’t have to do the hard work of drawing water from the well.
And then we get to the part of the story that I’d like to focus on today.
Jesus says to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.”
The woman says, “I have no husband.”
And Jesus replies, “You are right in saying ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true.”
Often people assume that here Jesus is criticizing the woman’s sinfulness. But, there’s no criticism in the text and her multiple marriages are not necessarily a sign of sinfulness. Jesus simply acknowledges the fact of the woman’s marriages and acknowledges that she has told him the truth.
But, maybe out of discomfort with Jesus’ insight and knowledge, at this point the woman tries to change the subject to talk about one of the major disagreements between Jews and Samaritans – their disagreement about where they are supposed to worship God.
But, then, at the end of their conversation, the woman does something unexpected. She leaves her valuable water jar and heads to the city, telling people about Jesus: “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done!”
Thinking about this, I’m not so sure we’d be too excited to meet Jesus, let’s say while buying some bottled water in Publix, and to realize that he knows everything we’ve ever done.
It’s one of those things that we just take for granted, but probably don’t like to dwell on too much: God knows everything that there is to know about us – everything we’ve ever done, everything we’ve ever thought – the good stuff and, of course, the stuff that we’d rather forget – the embarrassing and shameful stuff we hide even from the people closest to us – the stuff that maybe we even try to hide from ourselves.
Just like for the woman at the well, God knows everything about us.
During most of the year, we begin our services with what’s called the Collect for Purity, which in earlier times was a prayer said privately by a priest as he prepared for Mass.
The words are familiar for Episcopalians, but now that we haven’t said it in a couple of weeks maybe we can really hear the words:
“Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid.”
Whether we like it or not, God can tell us everything we’ve ever done. No secrets are hid from God.
And God’s all-encompassing knowledge would be terrifying except we know that the God who knows all our secrets is also the same God who loves us with an unconditional love beyond our understanding or imagining.
The same God who knows all our secrets is the same God whose unconditional love for us we see in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
After the Samaritan woman has her encounter with Jesus at the well, she excitedly leaves behind her valuable water jar because she can’t wait to tell her friends and neighbors the great news:
“Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done!”
And I have to believe that the reason she’s excited to have met this man who knows everything about her is because he’s made it clear that it doesn’t matter what she’s done or hasn’t done. It doesn’t matter that she’s a Samaritan. It doesn’t matter that she’s had five husbands – no matter what the story behind that is.
The only thing that matters is that she is loved.
God knows all her secrets and still loves her unconditionally.
And she responds to that amazing truth, to that unconditional love, with the only response that makes any sense. Drop everything and tell everyone you can find this wonderful news.
“Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done!”
We don’t meet Jesus in quite the same way as the woman at the well. But, we do encounter Jesus in the words of Scripture and in the bread and wine of the Eucharist. We meet Jesus in our fellowship. We meet Jesus in the people we encounter in our everyday lives. We meet Jesus in our prayers and in our hearts.
And if we’re listening and paying attention, we receive the same good news as the woman at the well.
God knows all our secrets and still loves us unconditionally.
The only question left is - how do we respond?
Do we still somehow think that we can hide parts of ourselves from God the way we can hide from other people?
Do we just keep the news to ourselves – enjoying privately the comfort of God’s love?
Or, do we respond like the Samaritan woman?
In our own way, right here in Gainesville, do we drop everything and excitedly tell people the Good News:
“Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done!”
“Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid.”
And, still, you love us unconditionally.
Thanks be to God.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Forever Part of the Fold
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
March 25, 2011
Funeral Sermon for Robert Bret Henley
Isaiah 61:1-3
Psalm 23
Revelation 7:9-17
John 10:11-16
Forever Part of the Fold
There’s always a mix of emotions involved when it comes to a Christian funeral.
Sometimes people think that somehow they lack faith if they feel sad that someone they love has died.
Sometimes people think that they lack faith if they ask why? Why did this happen? Why couldn’t Bret have recovered? Why couldn’t Bret have recovered and lived on for decades?
Of course, there is nothing wrong with feeling sad or asking these difficult questions. We are suffering a very real loss. Tears have been shed all week. Tears will be shed during this service and tears will be shed in the days and weeks to come.
The devastating fact is that we will not see Bret again in this life.
We mourn the very real loss of Bret who has left behind parents who never wanted to outlive their child.
We mourn the loss of this man who was fortunate enough to find true and abiding love with Erica.
We mourn the very real loss of Bret, who has died too young, leaving behind a brokenhearted wife who hoped for many more years of happy life together
I had the painful privilege of seeing the power of their shared love in the hospital as Bret’s life drew to a close. Erica tended to him so lovingly, hugging and kissing him, whispering in his ear.
I could see the pain but also the determination in Erica’s face when she knew the time had come – when she made one last sacrifice and respected Bret’s wish not to be kept alive by machines.
We can’t know everything Bret was thinking or feeling in his last days, but we can take comfort that he knew he was loved very deeply.
We mourn the very real loss of Bret, this man who gave generously of himself to others as teacher and coach and mentor.
We mourn the very real loss of Bret, this man who loved playing the harmonica, who loved sports, who loved getting out on a boat, who loved taking a cruise, this man who enjoyed the occasional trip to Vegas.
So, we’re here in part to mourn the very real loss of Bret –t he man his mother-in-law described as “everything good.”
We’re also here to show our love and support for Erica and for the rest of Bret’s family.
But, the most important reason we’re here is to celebrate. We’re here to celebrate the life of this man.
And we’re here to celebrate because as Christians we are convinced that Bret’s life didn’t end earlier this week in the Intensive Care Unit at Shands Hospital.
We’re here to celebrate because as Christians we believe, we trust – we know - that God takes death and turns it into life. That’s what God did when Jesus hung lifeless on the cross and all hope seemed to be lost. And yet three days later the resurrected Christ revealed to his shocked followers and eventually to the world that love wins and death had been defeated once and for all.
In the passage from the Gospel of John I read a few minutes ago, Jesus describes himself as the “Good Shepherd.”
Throughout the Bible there is lots of sheep and shepherd imagery – which makes sense since the Bible was written by and for people who probably saw sheep and shepherds just about every day.
Throughout the Bible shepherding the people is a common and obvious metaphor for leadership. And the people who lack leadership are described as lost sheep.
And even those of us who’ve never seen a shepherd in person, can relate to the imagery can’t we? We’ve all felt a little bit like lost sheep at least sometimes, haven’t we? We’ve all looked for a shepherd to lead us - and to take care of us – to make sure we’ll be OK
Often we invest those hopes in political leaders. And the truth is no political leader, no matter how wise or brave or compassionate, can be the Good Shepherd.
There’s only one Good Shepherd and he’s Jesus.
Jesus is the Good Shepherd because he is wiling to die for us - his sheep.
Jesus is the Good Shepherd because he never abandons us in our time of need. In the hospital room with Bret and Erica and their family I could feel God’s grace being poured out. I could feel everyone present receiving the strength they needed in the face of such sadness, in the midst of this ordeal.
I could feel the love of Christ reflected in the love shared between Bret and Erica.
Jesus is the Good Shepherd because there is nothing we can do to be expelled from his fold. Once we are part of his flock we are part of his flock forever.
And we become part of the flock of the Good Shepherd in the water of Baptism. Bret became part of the flock of the Good Shepherd when he was baptized right here at St. Michael’s – or actually right over there at St. Michael’s.
The Church teaches that it’s in the water of Baptism that we are fully initiated into the Body of Christ.
The Church teaches that the bond which God establishes with us in baptism is indissoluble. The bond between God and us can never be dissolved, can never be broken.
No matter what we do or don’t do, no matter how far we stray, no matter how much we disappoint ourselves or disappoint others, no matter how much we mess up, we always remain part of the flock.
No matter what we do or don’t do, no matter how far we stray, no matter how much we disappoint ourselves or disappoint others, no matter how much we mess up, we always remain in the fold of the Good Shepherd.
That’s why at the end of today’s service, I will stand at Bret’s casket and pray to Jesus,
“Acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming.”
In his death, Bret has moved from one part of the Good Shepherd’s fold to another. He’s in another part of the fold where for now we can no longer see him. Bret’s in another part of the fold but we can feel his presence, his closeness to us, even now – or especially now – in our grief.
So we’ve gathered here today with a mix of emotions.
We are sad, heartbroken, at the death of Bret.
We ask why did this have to happen?
We’ve come to support Erica and all those loved Bret.
We’re here to celebrate Bret’s life.
We’re here to give thanks to God for the life of Bret Henley.
And we’re here to give thanks to Jesus the Good Shepherd who died for us. We’re here to give thanks to Jesus the Good Shepherd who welcomes all of us into his fold. We’re here to give thanks to Jesus the Good Shepherd who - no matter what - never gives up on us.
Thanks be to God!
March 25, 2011
Funeral Sermon for Robert Bret Henley
Isaiah 61:1-3
Psalm 23
Revelation 7:9-17
John 10:11-16
Forever Part of the Fold
There’s always a mix of emotions involved when it comes to a Christian funeral.
Sometimes people think that somehow they lack faith if they feel sad that someone they love has died.
Sometimes people think that they lack faith if they ask why? Why did this happen? Why couldn’t Bret have recovered? Why couldn’t Bret have recovered and lived on for decades?
Of course, there is nothing wrong with feeling sad or asking these difficult questions. We are suffering a very real loss. Tears have been shed all week. Tears will be shed during this service and tears will be shed in the days and weeks to come.
The devastating fact is that we will not see Bret again in this life.
We mourn the very real loss of Bret who has left behind parents who never wanted to outlive their child.
We mourn the loss of this man who was fortunate enough to find true and abiding love with Erica.
We mourn the very real loss of Bret, who has died too young, leaving behind a brokenhearted wife who hoped for many more years of happy life together
I had the painful privilege of seeing the power of their shared love in the hospital as Bret’s life drew to a close. Erica tended to him so lovingly, hugging and kissing him, whispering in his ear.
I could see the pain but also the determination in Erica’s face when she knew the time had come – when she made one last sacrifice and respected Bret’s wish not to be kept alive by machines.
We can’t know everything Bret was thinking or feeling in his last days, but we can take comfort that he knew he was loved very deeply.
We mourn the very real loss of Bret, this man who gave generously of himself to others as teacher and coach and mentor.
We mourn the very real loss of Bret, this man who loved playing the harmonica, who loved sports, who loved getting out on a boat, who loved taking a cruise, this man who enjoyed the occasional trip to Vegas.
So, we’re here in part to mourn the very real loss of Bret –t he man his mother-in-law described as “everything good.”
We’re also here to show our love and support for Erica and for the rest of Bret’s family.
But, the most important reason we’re here is to celebrate. We’re here to celebrate the life of this man.
And we’re here to celebrate because as Christians we are convinced that Bret’s life didn’t end earlier this week in the Intensive Care Unit at Shands Hospital.
We’re here to celebrate because as Christians we believe, we trust – we know - that God takes death and turns it into life. That’s what God did when Jesus hung lifeless on the cross and all hope seemed to be lost. And yet three days later the resurrected Christ revealed to his shocked followers and eventually to the world that love wins and death had been defeated once and for all.
In the passage from the Gospel of John I read a few minutes ago, Jesus describes himself as the “Good Shepherd.”
Throughout the Bible there is lots of sheep and shepherd imagery – which makes sense since the Bible was written by and for people who probably saw sheep and shepherds just about every day.
Throughout the Bible shepherding the people is a common and obvious metaphor for leadership. And the people who lack leadership are described as lost sheep.
And even those of us who’ve never seen a shepherd in person, can relate to the imagery can’t we? We’ve all felt a little bit like lost sheep at least sometimes, haven’t we? We’ve all looked for a shepherd to lead us - and to take care of us – to make sure we’ll be OK
Often we invest those hopes in political leaders. And the truth is no political leader, no matter how wise or brave or compassionate, can be the Good Shepherd.
There’s only one Good Shepherd and he’s Jesus.
Jesus is the Good Shepherd because he is wiling to die for us - his sheep.
Jesus is the Good Shepherd because he never abandons us in our time of need. In the hospital room with Bret and Erica and their family I could feel God’s grace being poured out. I could feel everyone present receiving the strength they needed in the face of such sadness, in the midst of this ordeal.
I could feel the love of Christ reflected in the love shared between Bret and Erica.
Jesus is the Good Shepherd because there is nothing we can do to be expelled from his fold. Once we are part of his flock we are part of his flock forever.
And we become part of the flock of the Good Shepherd in the water of Baptism. Bret became part of the flock of the Good Shepherd when he was baptized right here at St. Michael’s – or actually right over there at St. Michael’s.
The Church teaches that it’s in the water of Baptism that we are fully initiated into the Body of Christ.
The Church teaches that the bond which God establishes with us in baptism is indissoluble. The bond between God and us can never be dissolved, can never be broken.
No matter what we do or don’t do, no matter how far we stray, no matter how much we disappoint ourselves or disappoint others, no matter how much we mess up, we always remain part of the flock.
No matter what we do or don’t do, no matter how far we stray, no matter how much we disappoint ourselves or disappoint others, no matter how much we mess up, we always remain in the fold of the Good Shepherd.
That’s why at the end of today’s service, I will stand at Bret’s casket and pray to Jesus,
“Acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming.”
In his death, Bret has moved from one part of the Good Shepherd’s fold to another. He’s in another part of the fold where for now we can no longer see him. Bret’s in another part of the fold but we can feel his presence, his closeness to us, even now – or especially now – in our grief.
So we’ve gathered here today with a mix of emotions.
We are sad, heartbroken, at the death of Bret.
We ask why did this have to happen?
We’ve come to support Erica and all those loved Bret.
We’re here to celebrate Bret’s life.
We’re here to give thanks to God for the life of Bret Henley.
And we’re here to give thanks to Jesus the Good Shepherd who died for us. We’re here to give thanks to Jesus the Good Shepherd who welcomes all of us into his fold. We’re here to give thanks to Jesus the Good Shepherd who - no matter what - never gives up on us.
Thanks be to God!
Monday, March 21, 2011
The Greatest Generations
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
March 21, 2011
Funeral Sermon for Alice Tredup
Isaiah 2:1-4; 11:6-10; 65:24-25
Psalm 23
Revelation 21:2-7
John 14:1-6
The Greatest Generations
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 exactly 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.”
By getting on his knees and washing the feet of the disciples, Jesus taught them a lesson I’m sure none of them ever forgot.
To follow Jesus means giving away our lives in loving service to God and to one another.
For the rest of their lives, the disciples would have carried in their minds and their hearts the memory and example of Jesus the Son of God getting on his hands and knees and washing their feet.
The disciples dedicated the rest of their lives to sharing with people the amazingly Good News of Jesus.
The disciples left behind the security of their old lives and dedicated themselves to love of God and love of their fellow human beings.
The disciples dedicated the rest of their lives to laying the foundation of the Christian Church – a church that began with just a handful of followers in First Century Palestine and spread - and continues to spread - around the world.
There have been many great and faithful and courageous Christians over the centuries, but the first disciples are our greatest generation.
A few years back Tom Brokaw wrote a book about the Americans of the World War II era – a group of people that he called the Greatest Generation.
He included the famous figures of that time, but mostly he focused on the ordinary men and women who rose to the challenge of living in extraordinary times.
It wasn’t fame or wealth that made them the greatest generation.
What made them the greatest generation was their willingness to sacrifice themselves in loving service to others.
And today we mourn the death and much more we celebrate the life of our sister Alice, a member of our greatest generation.
Today we celebrate the life and example of Alice, who was willing to sacrifice herself in loving service to others.
Today we celebrate the life and example of Alice who in that extraordinary time did her part by caring for American and British soldiers at the Pepsi-Cola canteen in Times Square.
Today we celebrate the life and example of Alice who gave the rest of her life in loving service to her family and her communities and to God.
I only met Alice in the last months of her long and full life. By then we couldn’t get to know each other. Though once when I was visiting her at Harbor Chase there was a show about dogs on TV. Making conversation, I casually mentioned that I’ve never owned a dog. Alice snapped to attention. She turned to me in shock and disbelief that I’ve missed out on what had been such a rich part of her life.
Reading her obituary and reading her son Fred’s remembrance and hearing the wonderful reflection by her grandson here today, have made me very sorry not to have had the chance to know her.
But, you’re the fortunate ones. You’ve all received the gift of Alice. Somewhere along a journey that took her from New York to Oregon to Hawaii to Washington State back to New York and finally to Florida – somewhere along that journey - her life and example touched your life.
Now, Alice’s long and full life has come to an end. Her journey has ended in the loving presence of the God who had imagined her into existence.
Alice’s journey has come to an end, but for us the journey continues.
According to tradition the journey of the Apostle Thomas brought him all the way to India. I’m sure over his long and eventful and challenging journey Thomas carried with him the memories of Jesus and maybe especially the example of Jesus washing his feet and the feet of the others.
Those memories would have sustained Thomas and inspired that member of the greatest Christian generation over the journey of his life.
As we continue the journeys of our lives, we carry the examples of people who have followed Jesus’ example most faithfully.
As we continue the journeys of our lives, we carry the examples of people who have sacrificed themselves in loving service to others.
As we continue the journeys of our lives, we carry the examples of the greatest generation.
As we continue the journeys of our lives, we carry the example of Alice.
Thanks be to God.
March 21, 2011
Funeral Sermon for Alice Tredup
Isaiah 2:1-4; 11:6-10; 65:24-25
Psalm 23
Revelation 21:2-7
John 14:1-6
The Greatest Generations
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 exactly 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.”
By getting on his knees and washing the feet of the disciples, Jesus taught them a lesson I’m sure none of them ever forgot.
To follow Jesus means giving away our lives in loving service to God and to one another.
For the rest of their lives, the disciples would have carried in their minds and their hearts the memory and example of Jesus the Son of God getting on his hands and knees and washing their feet.
The disciples dedicated the rest of their lives to sharing with people the amazingly Good News of Jesus.
The disciples left behind the security of their old lives and dedicated themselves to love of God and love of their fellow human beings.
The disciples dedicated the rest of their lives to laying the foundation of the Christian Church – a church that began with just a handful of followers in First Century Palestine and spread - and continues to spread - around the world.
There have been many great and faithful and courageous Christians over the centuries, but the first disciples are our greatest generation.
A few years back Tom Brokaw wrote a book about the Americans of the World War II era – a group of people that he called the Greatest Generation.
He included the famous figures of that time, but mostly he focused on the ordinary men and women who rose to the challenge of living in extraordinary times.
It wasn’t fame or wealth that made them the greatest generation.
What made them the greatest generation was their willingness to sacrifice themselves in loving service to others.
And today we mourn the death and much more we celebrate the life of our sister Alice, a member of our greatest generation.
Today we celebrate the life and example of Alice, who was willing to sacrifice herself in loving service to others.
Today we celebrate the life and example of Alice who in that extraordinary time did her part by caring for American and British soldiers at the Pepsi-Cola canteen in Times Square.
Today we celebrate the life and example of Alice who gave the rest of her life in loving service to her family and her communities and to God.
I only met Alice in the last months of her long and full life. By then we couldn’t get to know each other. Though once when I was visiting her at Harbor Chase there was a show about dogs on TV. Making conversation, I casually mentioned that I’ve never owned a dog. Alice snapped to attention. She turned to me in shock and disbelief that I’ve missed out on what had been such a rich part of her life.
Reading her obituary and reading her son Fred’s remembrance and hearing the wonderful reflection by her grandson here today, have made me very sorry not to have had the chance to know her.
But, you’re the fortunate ones. You’ve all received the gift of Alice. Somewhere along a journey that took her from New York to Oregon to Hawaii to Washington State back to New York and finally to Florida – somewhere along that journey - her life and example touched your life.
Now, Alice’s long and full life has come to an end. Her journey has ended in the loving presence of the God who had imagined her into existence.
Alice’s journey has come to an end, but for us the journey continues.
According to tradition the journey of the Apostle Thomas brought him all the way to India. I’m sure over his long and eventful and challenging journey Thomas carried with him the memories of Jesus and maybe especially the example of Jesus washing his feet and the feet of the others.
Those memories would have sustained Thomas and inspired that member of the greatest Christian generation over the journey of his life.
As we continue the journeys of our lives, we carry the examples of people who have followed Jesus’ example most faithfully.
As we continue the journeys of our lives, we carry the examples of people who have sacrificed themselves in loving service to others.
As we continue the journeys of our lives, we carry the examples of the greatest generation.
As we continue the journeys of our lives, we carry the example of Alice.
Thanks be to God.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
(Dis-)Trust
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
March 20, 2011
Year A: The Second Sunday in Lent
Genesis 12:1-4a
Psalm 121
Romans 4:1-5, 13-17
John 3:1-17
(Dis-)Trust
In last Sunday’s sermon I talked about how hard it is for many of us to obey. We just don’t like being told what to do.
Well, obedience is hard, but for many of us trust is even harder.
Many of us have a hard time trusting other people.
Some of us are just naturally suspicious. When I was growing up, if someone rang the doorbell our first response was to surreptitiously peak out the kitchen window to try and see who was at the door. You certainly don’t just take your chances and open the door! It could be a Jehovah’s Witness or some neighbor we didn’t want to deal with.
Sometimes people offer to help us and we wonder what’s their angle? What’s in it for them? How am I being taken advantage of? Watch your wallet!
Some of us have hard time with trust because we’ve been hurt when people have let us down by breaking a trust. For some of us that’s happened too many times to count.
And some of us have a hard time with trust because we ourselves have not always been trustworthy and so we assume that everyone is as untrustworthy as we are.
Whatever the reason, for many of us trust is hard.
Lacking trust is a big deal because of course it messes up our relationships with other people. It’s difficult if not impossible to form friendships or to love another if there is no trust.
And lacking trust is a big deal because it wounds us spiritually.
At its heart, faith is trust.
We usually think of faith as accepting a series of claims as fact. And that’s certainly part of what faith is. In a few minutes we’ll stand and say the Nicene Creed. Part of faith is standing up and saying, yes, I believe these things. Or, at least faith is standing and saying I have my doubts about some of this stuff, but with God’s help I’m trying my best to believe.
But, much more important than accepting the claims of the creed, faith is trusting in God.
Faith is trusting God even when – or especially when – we don’t understand why terrible things happen.
Faith is trusting God when tectonic plates rub against each other and cause horrifically destructive earthquakes and tidal waves.
Faith is trusting God when a young person, a college freshman, dies in a senseless and meaningless way.
Faith is trusting God – trusting that God is in the midst of suffering, pouring out grace and strength.
Faith is trusting God – trusting that God is at work as God is always at work – turning death into life.
Faith is trusting God.
In the words of Psalm 121:
“I lift my eyes to the hills; from where is my help to come? My help comes from the LORD, the maker of heaven and earth.”
Faith is trusting God. But trust – trusting one another and trusting God - is hard for many of us.
Today’s lessons offer us an example of one person who trusted God and another struggled mightily with trust.
In today’s brief passage from Genesis, we heard the story of God sending Abram away from his home into an uncertain future in a foreign land. God makes big promises, “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.”
Genesis tells us that Abram was seventy-five when he trusted God and along with his wife and his nephew left home for Canaan. I’m sure in those seventy-five years Abram had put his trust in others and sometimes they had let him down. And I’m sure in those seventy-five years others had put their trust in Abram and sometimes he had let them down.
Yet, Abram trusts God and trusts in God’s promises.
And then there’s Nicodemus.
We’re told that Nicodemus is a Pharisee and a leader of the Jews. The Pharisees are usually depicted very negatively in the New Testament, but not Nicodemus. He recognizes Jesus as “a teacher who has come from God.” Nicodemus recognizes that God’s power is working through Jesus.
But, Nicodemus comes to Jesus by night. Nicodemus is not yet ready or able to put his trust in Jesus.
Nicodemus represents of other First Century people who recognized the power of Jesus and yet were unready or unable to put their trust in him.
And Nicodemus is probably a representative for many of us who have also seen the power of Jesus working in our own lives and in the lives of those around us.
Nicodemus is probably a representative for many of us who have seen God at work turning death into life, and yet…
And yet, we’re unable or unwilling to put our trust in God.
Christians believe that faith is a gift from God. There’s nothing we can do to make ourselves have faith, to convince ourselves to trust God.
On the one hand, God has been reaching out to us, calling to us, since the beginning.
And God’s ultimate reaching out to us, calling to us, is the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
In the familiar but still powerful words of John’s Gospel:
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have everlasting life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
On the other hand, trust takes time. We need to take the time to open ourselves to God who is reaching out to us, calling to us, through Jesus.
Trust is hard. Trust takes time. During Lent we have a chance to make a little more time for God, make a little more time for God to grow closer to us, make a little more time to allow our trust in God to deepen.
Maybe that means setting aside a little extra time for prayer and Scripture reading. Maybe that means setting aside a little extra time to take a reflective walk in this beautiful place. Maybe that means attending a weekday service. Maybe that means offering some kind of sacrifice or service to someone in need.
At its heart, faith is trust.
Faith is trusting God even when – or especially when – we don’t understand why terrible things happen.
Faith is trusting God when tectonic plates rub against each other and cause horrifically destructive earthquakes and tidal waves.
Faith is trusting God when a young person, a college freshman, dies in a senseless and meaningless way.
Faith is trusting God – trusting that God is in the midst of suffering, pouring out grace and strength.
Faith is trusting God – trusting that God is at work as God is always at work – turning death into life.
Faith is trusting God.
And trust takes time. I’m sure Abram’s trust of God grew over the seventy-five years before he set out into the unknown - to Canaan.
And maybe Nicodemus’s trust of God also grew over time.
Nicodemus who came to Jesus by night makes a brief but important reappearance near the end of John’s Gospel.
After Jesus’ death on the cross, it’s Nicodemus who uses an abundance of myrrh and aloes – weighing about a hundred pounds, we’re told - to anoint Jesus’ body before burial.
Why do that? To me, that sounds like faith as trust.
I don’t know if Nicodemus had worked out all his theology or if he ever would have been able to stand with us and say the creed.
But Nicodemus made time for God and for God’s Son - giving generously of himself, trusting that somehow, someway, in the midst of great suffering, God was at work as God is always at work - turning death into life.
Amen.
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
March 20, 2011
Year A: The Second Sunday in Lent
Genesis 12:1-4a
Psalm 121
Romans 4:1-5, 13-17
John 3:1-17
(Dis-)Trust
In last Sunday’s sermon I talked about how hard it is for many of us to obey. We just don’t like being told what to do.
Well, obedience is hard, but for many of us trust is even harder.
Many of us have a hard time trusting other people.
Some of us are just naturally suspicious. When I was growing up, if someone rang the doorbell our first response was to surreptitiously peak out the kitchen window to try and see who was at the door. You certainly don’t just take your chances and open the door! It could be a Jehovah’s Witness or some neighbor we didn’t want to deal with.
Sometimes people offer to help us and we wonder what’s their angle? What’s in it for them? How am I being taken advantage of? Watch your wallet!
Some of us have hard time with trust because we’ve been hurt when people have let us down by breaking a trust. For some of us that’s happened too many times to count.
And some of us have a hard time with trust because we ourselves have not always been trustworthy and so we assume that everyone is as untrustworthy as we are.
Whatever the reason, for many of us trust is hard.
Lacking trust is a big deal because of course it messes up our relationships with other people. It’s difficult if not impossible to form friendships or to love another if there is no trust.
And lacking trust is a big deal because it wounds us spiritually.
At its heart, faith is trust.
We usually think of faith as accepting a series of claims as fact. And that’s certainly part of what faith is. In a few minutes we’ll stand and say the Nicene Creed. Part of faith is standing up and saying, yes, I believe these things. Or, at least faith is standing and saying I have my doubts about some of this stuff, but with God’s help I’m trying my best to believe.
But, much more important than accepting the claims of the creed, faith is trusting in God.
Faith is trusting God even when – or especially when – we don’t understand why terrible things happen.
Faith is trusting God when tectonic plates rub against each other and cause horrifically destructive earthquakes and tidal waves.
Faith is trusting God when a young person, a college freshman, dies in a senseless and meaningless way.
Faith is trusting God – trusting that God is in the midst of suffering, pouring out grace and strength.
Faith is trusting God – trusting that God is at work as God is always at work – turning death into life.
Faith is trusting God.
In the words of Psalm 121:
“I lift my eyes to the hills; from where is my help to come? My help comes from the LORD, the maker of heaven and earth.”
Faith is trusting God. But trust – trusting one another and trusting God - is hard for many of us.
Today’s lessons offer us an example of one person who trusted God and another struggled mightily with trust.
In today’s brief passage from Genesis, we heard the story of God sending Abram away from his home into an uncertain future in a foreign land. God makes big promises, “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.”
Genesis tells us that Abram was seventy-five when he trusted God and along with his wife and his nephew left home for Canaan. I’m sure in those seventy-five years Abram had put his trust in others and sometimes they had let him down. And I’m sure in those seventy-five years others had put their trust in Abram and sometimes he had let them down.
Yet, Abram trusts God and trusts in God’s promises.
And then there’s Nicodemus.
We’re told that Nicodemus is a Pharisee and a leader of the Jews. The Pharisees are usually depicted very negatively in the New Testament, but not Nicodemus. He recognizes Jesus as “a teacher who has come from God.” Nicodemus recognizes that God’s power is working through Jesus.
But, Nicodemus comes to Jesus by night. Nicodemus is not yet ready or able to put his trust in Jesus.
Nicodemus represents of other First Century people who recognized the power of Jesus and yet were unready or unable to put their trust in him.
And Nicodemus is probably a representative for many of us who have also seen the power of Jesus working in our own lives and in the lives of those around us.
Nicodemus is probably a representative for many of us who have seen God at work turning death into life, and yet…
And yet, we’re unable or unwilling to put our trust in God.
Christians believe that faith is a gift from God. There’s nothing we can do to make ourselves have faith, to convince ourselves to trust God.
On the one hand, God has been reaching out to us, calling to us, since the beginning.
And God’s ultimate reaching out to us, calling to us, is the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
In the familiar but still powerful words of John’s Gospel:
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have everlasting life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
On the other hand, trust takes time. We need to take the time to open ourselves to God who is reaching out to us, calling to us, through Jesus.
Trust is hard. Trust takes time. During Lent we have a chance to make a little more time for God, make a little more time for God to grow closer to us, make a little more time to allow our trust in God to deepen.
Maybe that means setting aside a little extra time for prayer and Scripture reading. Maybe that means setting aside a little extra time to take a reflective walk in this beautiful place. Maybe that means attending a weekday service. Maybe that means offering some kind of sacrifice or service to someone in need.
At its heart, faith is trust.
Faith is trusting God even when – or especially when – we don’t understand why terrible things happen.
Faith is trusting God when tectonic plates rub against each other and cause horrifically destructive earthquakes and tidal waves.
Faith is trusting God when a young person, a college freshman, dies in a senseless and meaningless way.
Faith is trusting God – trusting that God is in the midst of suffering, pouring out grace and strength.
Faith is trusting God – trusting that God is at work as God is always at work – turning death into life.
Faith is trusting God.
And trust takes time. I’m sure Abram’s trust of God grew over the seventy-five years before he set out into the unknown - to Canaan.
And maybe Nicodemus’s trust of God also grew over time.
Nicodemus who came to Jesus by night makes a brief but important reappearance near the end of John’s Gospel.
After Jesus’ death on the cross, it’s Nicodemus who uses an abundance of myrrh and aloes – weighing about a hundred pounds, we’re told - to anoint Jesus’ body before burial.
Why do that? To me, that sounds like faith as trust.
I don’t know if Nicodemus had worked out all his theology or if he ever would have been able to stand with us and say the creed.
But Nicodemus made time for God and for God’s Son - giving generously of himself, trusting that somehow, someway, in the midst of great suffering, God was at work as God is always at work - turning death into life.
Amen.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
(Dis-)Obedience
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
March 13, 2011
Year A: The First Sunday in Lent
Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7
Psalm 32
Romans 5:12-19
Matthew 4:1-11
(Dis-)Obedience
Anyone here have a problem with obedience?
If you’re like me, you don’t really like being told what to do.
Americans are often notoriously bad at obedience. Disobedience is sort of in our national DNA. After all, our country was begun by a group of disobedient people who refused to submit to the legal authorities across the ocean in London.
Lately, memories of that first American disobedience have been revived by members of the so-called Tea Party as they have resisted what they view as unwarranted increases in government power.
In yesterday’s New York Times there was a front-page story of people who for a number of reasons are resisting the switch from incandescent light bulbs to compact florescent bulbs. Some are concerned about the cost and others wonder about the environmental impact.
But I think beneath those reasons there’s the very American resistance to the government telling us what kind of light bulb we should use. So some people are stocking up on the old bulbs and others are trying to get Congress to repeal the 2007 law that makes the old incandescent bulb subject to strict efficiency standards.
We have a problem with obedience.
In American history, especially in the second half of the last century, there is, of course, a noble tradition of civil disobedience – people practicing boycotts and sit-ins in peaceful defiance of unjust laws and practices.
So, I’m not sure about light bulbs, but certainly there are occasions when, following the examples of Gandhi and King, we are called to be disobedient in the fight for justice.
Political disobedience is one thing. Spiritual disobedience is something very different.
Disobeying God – the God who is perfect love and perfect justice – leads to disaster.
No matter how many times we hear it, the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden never loses its power. In the beginning humanity is given nearly everything – especially a relationship with God that’s this close – and humanity nearly throws it all away through disobedience.
God commanded Adam, “You may freely eat of every tree in the garden; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.”
Now, wait a second. Adam and Eve didn’t die after eating the forbidden fruit, did they?
No, Adam and Eve suffered a death worse than what happens when our hearts stop beating.
They suffered the death that maybe some of us have experienced when we realize that we have broken something valuable.
They suffered the death that maybe some of us have experienced when we’ve broken a promise, violated a trust, shattered a relationship.
They suffered the death that maybe some of us have experienced in our sinking stomach when we realize what we’ve done and wonder if what’s been broken can ever be fixed again.
Adam and Eve recognized that their disobedience of God had broken nearly everything. In their nakedness they recognized their total dependence on the God whose trust they had violated. And so they did what we would do. They did what we often do. They hid from God.
The cost of our disobedience of God is very high indeed.
Yet, the greatest news of all, the entire theme of the Bible, and the core of our faith, is the fact that no matter how disobedient we are, God never gives up on us.
In the very next scene of the Genesis story, God comes through the garden, searching for Adam and Eve.
God calls out, “Where are you?”
Where are you?
And God has been searching for us, reaching out to us, calling to us, ever since.
And we Christians believe that God’s ultimate search for us, God’s ultimate reaching out to us, is the life death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Adam is a model of disobedience and Jesus, the new Adam, is the model of perfect obedience.
Human disobedience nearly breaks our relationship with God.
But, Jesus’ perfect obedience – Jesus’ resistance of temptation - repairs and heals the break between God and humanity. As Paul writes to the church in Rome, “For just as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.”
The many will be made righteous, but, we’re not quite righteous yet. Let’s be honest, we still sin. We’re still disobedient.
I was at a clergy conference on Thursday and Friday led by the Bishop of Peru, Bill Godfrey. He is a very impressive man. He radiated gentleness, wisdom and a deep spirituality.
At one point during the retreat Bishop Godfrey reminded us that the word translated in the Bible as “obedience” is actually the word meaning “to hear.”
God still calls to us, “Where are you?”
Our disobedience is mainly a failure to hear God’s call to us.
And that’s a big reason why we come to this place, isn’t it? We come to church to hear God’s call to us in the old stories and in the prayers.
We come to church to hear God’s call to us in the breaking of the bread.
We come to church to hear God’s call to us through the love and fellowship of one another.
And during the next forty days or so, the Church tries to make it a little easier than usual to hear God’s call to us.
During Lent we’re encouraged to sacrifice in order to hear more clearly God’s call to us.
During Lent we’re encouraged to spend even just a little more time in prayer in order to hear more clearly God’s call to us.
During Lent we’re encouraged to turn down the volume and cut out the distractions.
Here in church, the music is quieter and all the shiny things have been covered or put away.
We change some of the prayers. A little later we’ll say the contemporary version of the Lord’s Prayer.
And we even put away the “A” word which I know for many of you will be a real sacrifice - especially at the dismissal!
Church can become routine and the familiar words can lose their meaning after a while. All of these seasonal changes to the service are made to make it easier for us to hear God calling to us.
We all, especially we Americans, have a problem with obedience. And it’s appropriate to disobey in the struggle for justice in the world.
Political disobedience is one thing. Spiritual disobedience is something very different.
Disobeying God – the God who is perfect love and perfect justice – led to disaster for Adam and Eve and leads to disaster for us today.
The good news is that God has never stopped and will never stop calling to us.
“Where are you?”
During this holy season of Lent may we all take the time to listen for God’s call and to obey God who never stops calling to us.
Amen.
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
March 13, 2011
Year A: The First Sunday in Lent
Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7
Psalm 32
Romans 5:12-19
Matthew 4:1-11
(Dis-)Obedience
Anyone here have a problem with obedience?
If you’re like me, you don’t really like being told what to do.
Americans are often notoriously bad at obedience. Disobedience is sort of in our national DNA. After all, our country was begun by a group of disobedient people who refused to submit to the legal authorities across the ocean in London.
Lately, memories of that first American disobedience have been revived by members of the so-called Tea Party as they have resisted what they view as unwarranted increases in government power.
In yesterday’s New York Times there was a front-page story of people who for a number of reasons are resisting the switch from incandescent light bulbs to compact florescent bulbs. Some are concerned about the cost and others wonder about the environmental impact.
But I think beneath those reasons there’s the very American resistance to the government telling us what kind of light bulb we should use. So some people are stocking up on the old bulbs and others are trying to get Congress to repeal the 2007 law that makes the old incandescent bulb subject to strict efficiency standards.
We have a problem with obedience.
In American history, especially in the second half of the last century, there is, of course, a noble tradition of civil disobedience – people practicing boycotts and sit-ins in peaceful defiance of unjust laws and practices.
So, I’m not sure about light bulbs, but certainly there are occasions when, following the examples of Gandhi and King, we are called to be disobedient in the fight for justice.
Political disobedience is one thing. Spiritual disobedience is something very different.
Disobeying God – the God who is perfect love and perfect justice – leads to disaster.
No matter how many times we hear it, the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden never loses its power. In the beginning humanity is given nearly everything – especially a relationship with God that’s this close – and humanity nearly throws it all away through disobedience.
God commanded Adam, “You may freely eat of every tree in the garden; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.”
Now, wait a second. Adam and Eve didn’t die after eating the forbidden fruit, did they?
No, Adam and Eve suffered a death worse than what happens when our hearts stop beating.
They suffered the death that maybe some of us have experienced when we realize that we have broken something valuable.
They suffered the death that maybe some of us have experienced when we’ve broken a promise, violated a trust, shattered a relationship.
They suffered the death that maybe some of us have experienced in our sinking stomach when we realize what we’ve done and wonder if what’s been broken can ever be fixed again.
Adam and Eve recognized that their disobedience of God had broken nearly everything. In their nakedness they recognized their total dependence on the God whose trust they had violated. And so they did what we would do. They did what we often do. They hid from God.
The cost of our disobedience of God is very high indeed.
Yet, the greatest news of all, the entire theme of the Bible, and the core of our faith, is the fact that no matter how disobedient we are, God never gives up on us.
In the very next scene of the Genesis story, God comes through the garden, searching for Adam and Eve.
God calls out, “Where are you?”
Where are you?
And God has been searching for us, reaching out to us, calling to us, ever since.
And we Christians believe that God’s ultimate search for us, God’s ultimate reaching out to us, is the life death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Adam is a model of disobedience and Jesus, the new Adam, is the model of perfect obedience.
Human disobedience nearly breaks our relationship with God.
But, Jesus’ perfect obedience – Jesus’ resistance of temptation - repairs and heals the break between God and humanity. As Paul writes to the church in Rome, “For just as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.”
The many will be made righteous, but, we’re not quite righteous yet. Let’s be honest, we still sin. We’re still disobedient.
I was at a clergy conference on Thursday and Friday led by the Bishop of Peru, Bill Godfrey. He is a very impressive man. He radiated gentleness, wisdom and a deep spirituality.
At one point during the retreat Bishop Godfrey reminded us that the word translated in the Bible as “obedience” is actually the word meaning “to hear.”
God still calls to us, “Where are you?”
Our disobedience is mainly a failure to hear God’s call to us.
And that’s a big reason why we come to this place, isn’t it? We come to church to hear God’s call to us in the old stories and in the prayers.
We come to church to hear God’s call to us in the breaking of the bread.
We come to church to hear God’s call to us through the love and fellowship of one another.
And during the next forty days or so, the Church tries to make it a little easier than usual to hear God’s call to us.
During Lent we’re encouraged to sacrifice in order to hear more clearly God’s call to us.
During Lent we’re encouraged to spend even just a little more time in prayer in order to hear more clearly God’s call to us.
During Lent we’re encouraged to turn down the volume and cut out the distractions.
Here in church, the music is quieter and all the shiny things have been covered or put away.
We change some of the prayers. A little later we’ll say the contemporary version of the Lord’s Prayer.
And we even put away the “A” word which I know for many of you will be a real sacrifice - especially at the dismissal!
Church can become routine and the familiar words can lose their meaning after a while. All of these seasonal changes to the service are made to make it easier for us to hear God calling to us.
We all, especially we Americans, have a problem with obedience. And it’s appropriate to disobey in the struggle for justice in the world.
Political disobedience is one thing. Spiritual disobedience is something very different.
Disobeying God – the God who is perfect love and perfect justice – led to disaster for Adam and Eve and leads to disaster for us today.
The good news is that God has never stopped and will never stop calling to us.
“Where are you?”
During this holy season of Lent may we all take the time to listen for God’s call and to obey God who never stops calling to us.
Amen.
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