St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
May 29, 2011
Year A: The Sixth Sunday of Easter
Acts 17:22-31
Psalm 66:7-18
1 Peter 3:13-22
John 14:15-21
Not Left Orphaned
I wouldn’t say that I’m a news junkie, but it’s true that I read the newspaper everyday and most days I check a couple of news websites to keep up with what’s going on.
Part of it is just habit, I guess. And part of it is that I think it’s important to be informed, though the truth is there’s not much I can do about all of the mostly horrible stuff that’s reported in the news.
And keeping up with the news can be dangerous for our souls. Last week a friend asked me how it affects me to every day read stories about natural and man-made disasters that create so much pain for so many here in our own community, across our country and around the world.
Of course, there’s nothing new about living in a world filled with natural and man-made disasters.
In today’s lesson from the Gospel of John, we glimpsed an unfolding man-made disaster: Jesus was about to be arrested and killed in an especially brutal and humiliating way.
As I mentioned last Sunday, one of the unique features of the Gospel of John is what’s called the “Farewell Discourse, Jesus’ lengthy good-bye to his disciples during the Last Supper.
Try to imagine the scene.
The disciples – everyday working people, as thickheaded as all of us – felt a power in Jesus like they had never experienced before. From Jesus they heard teaching like they had never heard before. And through Jesus they saw signs like they had never seen before.
And while lots of people encountered Jesus, only a handful of people seem to have given away their lives to follow him. They may not have always understood Jesus, but they loved him enough to walk away from family and friends to be his disciples.
But, throughout Jesus’ ministry there was always this disturbing background buzz. It was a disturbing background buzz caused by conflict – conflict between Jesus and the religious establishment.
But it was also a disturbing background buzz caused by Jesus’ own predictions of his arrest and death.
I’m sure, like all of us, the disciples were good at denial and tried to tune out this disturbing background buzz – to ignore it, to hum over it, to pretend it wasn’t there.
But, now at the Last Supper, that disturbing background buzz has moved front and center. The disciples can no longer deny it or avoid it.
Last week we heard Jesus tell his friends that he was going ahead of them to prepare a place where they would all be reunited.
We heard Jesus boldly tell his disciples that since he and the Father are one, when they had seen Jesus they had in fact seen God.
We heard Jesus tell his disciples that he was going to the Father, which will give him the power to advocate for us, to see to it that our prayers are answered.
That’s all very good news. But, I suspect the disciples were still struggling to accept that in a very real – and horrible – way Jesus was leaving them.
Even if they believed everything Jesus was telling them – a big if – it still must have been scary for them to imagine what life was going to be like without Jesus – their leader, their friend, their teacher, their Savior.
Which brings us to today’s section of the Farewell Discourse.
Jesus has told the disciples that he will be advocating for them in heaven. But, now he also promises that God will send another advocate to be with them forever. This advocate – the Paraclete – a word that is also translated as comforter, counselor, friend or helper – is the Spirit of truth – and is also in some sense the spirit of Jesus himself.
Jesus says to his disciples, “I will not leave your orphaned; I am coming to you.”
Over the centuries artists have struggled to depict the Holy Spirit. Most of us are familiar with the tongues of fire and of course the dove, but neither image really does justice to the power and presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives.
It’s hard to describe the Holy Spirit. But if we keep our eyes and ears open we can feel the power and presence of the Holy Spirit all around us – we can know that we have not been left orphaned.
It’s thanks to the power of the Holy Spirit that the Apostle Paul – a Pharisee who had one of the most dramatic conversion experiences of all time – had the courage to give away his life in service to Jesus.
Thanks to the power of the Holy Spirit, Paul left behind everything that was familiar and spent the rest of his life traveling around the Mediterranean world, telling people about Jesus.
In today’s lesson from the Acts of the Apostles, we find Paul in Athens, of all places. In the First Century, Rome was the center of imperial power but Athens was still the hub of classical civilization.
Thanks to the power of the Holy Spirit, here’s Paul sounding very much like a Greek philosopher telling the learned and wise Athenians that he has discovered the “unknown god” – the Lord of heaven and earth - that they have been searching for all along.
It’s thanks to the power of the Holy Spirit that we have the Scriptures, including the Gospel of John that we’ve been reading these past few weeks.
Think about it for a second. Most scholars agree that this gospel was written near the end of the First Century – 70 or so years after the earthly lifetime of Jesus.
Over those many decades the Holy Spirit was at work keeping the presence of Jesus alive among the first disciples and then among the next generations who had never seen Jesus in the flesh.
Near the end of the First Century the writer or writers of this gospel knew from their own experience that Jesus kept his promise to send the Holy Spirit. The stories of Jesus were still alive. People were still giving away their lives to follow Jesus. And in a world filled with much despair and suffering the Good News was spreading beyond anyone’s wildest imagination.
And, today in a world still filled with much despair and suffering if we keep our eyes and ears open we can feel the power and presence of the Holy Spirit all around us. We can know that we have not been left orphaned.
As you know there are a lot of poor and homeless people in Gainesville. In part because of its location, at the chapel we get a fair number of people who come by looking for help.
Frankly, the frequent appeals can get old fast, but there are a couple of regulars that I’ve gotten to know a little bit and try to help in very small ways – including a woman who comes by every couple of days asking for a few dollars. On Friday I realized that I hadn’t seen her all week.
I mentioned to someone at the chapel that I was worried about her and asked her to say a prayer for her.
No kidding – five minutes later she walks in the same as always. But the two of us at the chapel were so stunned at the timing that we greeted her with spontaneous joy and relief. She was shocked and taken aback – but for a moment we all felt the power of the Holy Spirit at work in a world filled with suffering and despair.
And even sometimes when you follow the news you can find the Holy Spirit at work and know that we have not been left orphaned.
I was deeply moved by the visit a couple of weeks ago of Queen Elizabeth to Ireland.
Considering all the horrible history and still-unfinished business between Britain and Ireland, I’m sure many people – maybe even the Queen herself – never thought such a visit would ever be possible.
The security arrangements were extraordinary. When the Queen arrived, decked out in green, at first she looked a little worried about what kind of welcome she’d receive.
Along with the Irish president she laid a wreath and bowed her head at the Garden of Remembrance, where Ireland honors those who gave their lives in the fight for independence from Britain.
In her well-received speech at the state dinner the Queen spoke about, “the importance of forbearance and conciliation. Of being able to bow to the past, but not be bound by it.”
The visit was a huge success. By the end, the security was eased a bit, the Queen was receiving standing ovations, smiling broadly, and breaking from her schedule to greet friendly Irish onlookers eager to meet her.
Of course, there is still plenty of suffering and despair in Ireland, in Gainesville and around the world. Yet, when we keep our eyes and ears open we can feel the power and presence of the Holy Spirit all around us.
When we pay attention, like Paul and the first disciples we know that Jesus has kept his promise. We know that we have not been left orphaned.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Confidence
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
May 22, 2011
Year A: The Fifth Sunday of Easter
Acts 7:55-60
Psalm 31:1-5; 15-16
1 Peter 2:2-10
John 14:1-14
Confidence
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about farewells.
Partly that’s because it’s been so quiet around the chapel with most of the students away on summer break – or off beginning the next chapter of their lives after commencement.
Partly, I guess, it’s because of all the attention given to the prediction made by Harold Camping, the founder of Family Radio, that the Rapture was certain to begin yesterday, May 21, 2011.
We’ve seen this before. Every once in a while people come along making these bold predictions with what seems to be complete certainty. In the paper I saw a photo of a man who believed that the end was at hand holding a sign that read in part, “The Bible guarantees it.”
This time around the prediction of Judgment Day seems to have convinced more people than usual. Maybe it’s because of the extreme weather experienced in many places lately. Or maybe it’s because we are living in a time of great political and social change that is unnerving lots of people.
Or because of the tough economic times, maybe people just want Jesus to return and make all their troubles go away.
Mostly, I think people fall for these kinds of predictions because we crave certainty.
On the front page of Friday’s New York Times there was a poignant, disturbing and a little bit funny story about the seemingly normal Haddad family of Middletown, Maryland.
Robert and Abby Haddad, parents of three very skeptical teenagers, were among the many people certain that the Rapture was going to occur yesterday. In fact, they were so certain that nearly two years ago Abby left her job as a nurse to devote herself to spreading the word about the approach of Judgment Day. The couple stopped making home improvements and quit saving for their kids’ college educations.
Perhaps hedging their apocalyptic bet just a little, Robert held on to his job as an engineer at the Department of Energy.
For their part, the kids managed to hold on to their sense of humor.
One of the children said, referring to her mother, “She’ll say, ‘You need to clean up your room.’ And I’ll say, ‘Mom, it doesn’t matter, if the world’s going to end!’”
That’s funny, but the parents’ certainty created real pain their family. One of the skeptical teens was quoted as saying, “My mom told me directly that I’m not going to get into heaven. At first it was really upsetting, but it’s what she honestly believes.”
It’s surprising me that Bible-believing Christians can fall so easily for these people who predict with such certainty the precise date of the Second Coming. It’s surprising because here’s what Jesus himself had to say on the subject in Mark 13:32:
“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”
If Jesus himself doesn’t know, then it seems pretty unlikely that Harold Camping or Robert and Abby Haddad or anyone else would have any way of knowing about the date of Judgment Day.
I’ve also been thinking about farewells because of today’s gospel lesson, which is part of what’s known as the “Farewell Discourse” in the Gospel of John.
Remember that John is the last of the four gospels to be written, probably around the end of the First Century.
So, the Gospel of John is the product of divine inspiration working through several generations of Christian reflection on the meaning of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection.
One of the distinctive features of the Gospel of John is what’s called the “Farewell Discourse” – Jesus’ lengthy good-bye to his disciples.
Jesus knows that time is growing short for him on earth. During his ministry Jesus has tried to teach his disciples through parables and through his own example. Now, though, there’s not much time left, and, as we all know, the disciples have often been clueless.
So, in these last hours Jesus wants to give his disciples – wants to give us – confidence by passing on what’s most essential.
We can’t be certain about when the world will end.
We can’t be certain about when we will die.
We can’t be certain about the many things that only God knows.
But, because God revealed the way, the truth and the life in Jesus, we can be confident about what’s most important.
We can be confident about the kinds of lives God wants us to live.
We can be confident that God wants us to give away our lives in loving service to one another, especially to the poorest and weakest among us.
We can be confident that we are loved more than we could ever imagine. We can be confident that God loves us enough to live among us. We can be confident that God loves us enough to rescue us from our sin. We can be confident that God loves us enough to die for us.
Because God revealed the way, the truth and the life in Jesus, we can be confident that, in the end, love is stronger than death.
We hear that kind of confidence in the story of Stephen, deacon and martyr.
Stephen confidently preached the Gospel to an unfriendly audience not certain of how it would be received. When his message was violently rejected, to the end Stephen remained confident. The author of the Acts of the Apostles describes Stephen as imitating Jesus in his life and death – confidently giving away his life for the Gospel.
In a less dramatic way, I encountered that kind of confidence about ten years ago when my grandmother was dying in the hospital. At one point she looked at me and said, “I know where I have come from and I know where I am going.”
I’m not sure she knew that she was quoting Jesus. (It’s John 8:14.) But, in her own “farewell discourse” my grandmother was expressing simple but profound confidence. She wasn’t expressing the certainty of someone who believed that she had her theology in perfect order or who had said just the right religious words or who was in on some secret knowledge derived from biblical calculations.
No, my grandmother was expressing the simple but profound confidence in God’s love – the love that had shaped the way she had lived her life – the love that she had shared with me and so many other people during her life.
My grandmother was expressing the quiet confidence that the God whose love she had felt throughout her life in good times and not so good would not abandon her now in her hour of need – and would not abandon her in whatever awaited her beyond death.
Faith is that kind of confidence.
Faith isn’t about certainty.
Faith isn’t being certain when the world will end or when we will die.
Faith isn’t being certain about who’s “saved” and who’s “left behind”.
Faith isn’t being certain about who’s going to heaven and who’s going to hell.
Faith isn’t being certain about the many things that only God knows.
Faith is confidence in what’s most important.
Faith is confidence in God who reveals the way, the truth and the life in Jesus.
And, finally, faith is confidence that we can never really say farewell to God – and that God never says farewell to us.
Amen.
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
May 22, 2011
Year A: The Fifth Sunday of Easter
Acts 7:55-60
Psalm 31:1-5; 15-16
1 Peter 2:2-10
John 14:1-14
Confidence
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about farewells.
Partly that’s because it’s been so quiet around the chapel with most of the students away on summer break – or off beginning the next chapter of their lives after commencement.
Partly, I guess, it’s because of all the attention given to the prediction made by Harold Camping, the founder of Family Radio, that the Rapture was certain to begin yesterday, May 21, 2011.
We’ve seen this before. Every once in a while people come along making these bold predictions with what seems to be complete certainty. In the paper I saw a photo of a man who believed that the end was at hand holding a sign that read in part, “The Bible guarantees it.”
This time around the prediction of Judgment Day seems to have convinced more people than usual. Maybe it’s because of the extreme weather experienced in many places lately. Or maybe it’s because we are living in a time of great political and social change that is unnerving lots of people.
Or because of the tough economic times, maybe people just want Jesus to return and make all their troubles go away.
Mostly, I think people fall for these kinds of predictions because we crave certainty.
On the front page of Friday’s New York Times there was a poignant, disturbing and a little bit funny story about the seemingly normal Haddad family of Middletown, Maryland.
Robert and Abby Haddad, parents of three very skeptical teenagers, were among the many people certain that the Rapture was going to occur yesterday. In fact, they were so certain that nearly two years ago Abby left her job as a nurse to devote herself to spreading the word about the approach of Judgment Day. The couple stopped making home improvements and quit saving for their kids’ college educations.
Perhaps hedging their apocalyptic bet just a little, Robert held on to his job as an engineer at the Department of Energy.
For their part, the kids managed to hold on to their sense of humor.
One of the children said, referring to her mother, “She’ll say, ‘You need to clean up your room.’ And I’ll say, ‘Mom, it doesn’t matter, if the world’s going to end!’”
That’s funny, but the parents’ certainty created real pain their family. One of the skeptical teens was quoted as saying, “My mom told me directly that I’m not going to get into heaven. At first it was really upsetting, but it’s what she honestly believes.”
It’s surprising me that Bible-believing Christians can fall so easily for these people who predict with such certainty the precise date of the Second Coming. It’s surprising because here’s what Jesus himself had to say on the subject in Mark 13:32:
“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”
If Jesus himself doesn’t know, then it seems pretty unlikely that Harold Camping or Robert and Abby Haddad or anyone else would have any way of knowing about the date of Judgment Day.
I’ve also been thinking about farewells because of today’s gospel lesson, which is part of what’s known as the “Farewell Discourse” in the Gospel of John.
Remember that John is the last of the four gospels to be written, probably around the end of the First Century.
So, the Gospel of John is the product of divine inspiration working through several generations of Christian reflection on the meaning of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection.
One of the distinctive features of the Gospel of John is what’s called the “Farewell Discourse” – Jesus’ lengthy good-bye to his disciples.
Jesus knows that time is growing short for him on earth. During his ministry Jesus has tried to teach his disciples through parables and through his own example. Now, though, there’s not much time left, and, as we all know, the disciples have often been clueless.
So, in these last hours Jesus wants to give his disciples – wants to give us – confidence by passing on what’s most essential.
We can’t be certain about when the world will end.
We can’t be certain about when we will die.
We can’t be certain about the many things that only God knows.
But, because God revealed the way, the truth and the life in Jesus, we can be confident about what’s most important.
We can be confident about the kinds of lives God wants us to live.
We can be confident that God wants us to give away our lives in loving service to one another, especially to the poorest and weakest among us.
We can be confident that we are loved more than we could ever imagine. We can be confident that God loves us enough to live among us. We can be confident that God loves us enough to rescue us from our sin. We can be confident that God loves us enough to die for us.
Because God revealed the way, the truth and the life in Jesus, we can be confident that, in the end, love is stronger than death.
We hear that kind of confidence in the story of Stephen, deacon and martyr.
Stephen confidently preached the Gospel to an unfriendly audience not certain of how it would be received. When his message was violently rejected, to the end Stephen remained confident. The author of the Acts of the Apostles describes Stephen as imitating Jesus in his life and death – confidently giving away his life for the Gospel.
In a less dramatic way, I encountered that kind of confidence about ten years ago when my grandmother was dying in the hospital. At one point she looked at me and said, “I know where I have come from and I know where I am going.”
I’m not sure she knew that she was quoting Jesus. (It’s John 8:14.) But, in her own “farewell discourse” my grandmother was expressing simple but profound confidence. She wasn’t expressing the certainty of someone who believed that she had her theology in perfect order or who had said just the right religious words or who was in on some secret knowledge derived from biblical calculations.
No, my grandmother was expressing the simple but profound confidence in God’s love – the love that had shaped the way she had lived her life – the love that she had shared with me and so many other people during her life.
My grandmother was expressing the quiet confidence that the God whose love she had felt throughout her life in good times and not so good would not abandon her now in her hour of need – and would not abandon her in whatever awaited her beyond death.
Faith is that kind of confidence.
Faith isn’t about certainty.
Faith isn’t being certain when the world will end or when we will die.
Faith isn’t being certain about who’s “saved” and who’s “left behind”.
Faith isn’t being certain about who’s going to heaven and who’s going to hell.
Faith isn’t being certain about the many things that only God knows.
Faith is confidence in what’s most important.
Faith is confidence in God who reveals the way, the truth and the life in Jesus.
And, finally, faith is confidence that we can never really say farewell to God – and that God never says farewell to us.
Amen.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Shepherds, Sheep, Bishops and Us
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
May 18, 2011
Year A: Wednesday in the Fourth Week of Easter
Sermon Preached on the Occasion of the Visit of
The Rt. Rev. Griselda Delgado Del Carpio, the Episcopal Bishop of Cuba
Acts 2:42-47
Psalm 23
1 Peter 2:19-25
John 10:1-10
Shepherds, Sheep, Bishops and Us
I grew up in Jersey City – a large, paved-over place overshadowed by the much larger New York City, just across the Hudson River.
Being formed in such a very urban environment I’ve always struggled with the sheep and shepherd imagery that is found throughout the Bible, in both the Old and New Testaments.
I’ve never seen a shepherd in person – and the only sheep I’ve encountered were enjoying the cozy protection of a petting zoo.
Maybe those of you who grew up in rural Florida or Cuba or Bolivia have an easier time than I do relating to the sheep and shepherd imagery in the Bible.
Certainly in Palestine, past and present, sheep and shepherds were all over the place, so it’s no surprise that sheep are mentioned more than 500 times in the Bible. In the Old Testament most of the references are literal while in the New Testament the references tend to be metaphorical – Jesus is the Good Shepherd and we are his sheep.
No matter where we’re from it’s a beautiful and powerful image.
Jesus is the Good Shepherd and we are his sheep.
A beautiful image, but, so what?
What do these beautiful metaphors for Jesus and us have to do with our daily lives back in Jersey City or here in Gainesville or in Cuba or anywhere?
Today- right here and now - how exactly does Jesus act as our shepherd?
Today – right here and now - how exactly are we his sheep?
Part of the answer is found in today’s passage from the Acts of the Apostles where we get a glimpse of life in the early church. Like us, those early Christians were living in a time when the resurrected Christ was no longer present in the way that he had been in those amazing first days after Easter.
Instead Jesus the Good Shepherd was present – is present – in the Church, in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of the bread and the prayers.
It’s here in church that we are reminded that we are all sheep, loved and cared for by the Good Shepherd.
Now, near as I can tell, in a real pasture sheep don’t have any responsibilities except sticking together.
But, as Christians you and I have some very important responsibilities.
Of course bishops are well aware of their responsibilities. They are the heirs of the apostles and are expected to be shepherds - to search for the sheep who go astray, to reach out to the sheep who are not yet part of the flock, to protect the sheep from those who want to harm the flock.
I imagine that every bishop is reminded of those awesome responsibilities every time she takes up her crozier - her staff – the powerful symbol of the bishop’s role as shepherd.
But, the rest of us, you and I, we’re not just sheep. As part of the Body of Christ in the world we are also called to be shepherds. We are also called to take on the sometimes tedious, occasionally infuriating, often demanding and always important work of shepherding Christ’s flock.
At every baptism the congregation is asked, “Will you who witness these vows do all in your power to support these persons in their life in Christ?”
And the congregation responds with gusto, “We will!”
When we say we will do all in our power to support our fellow Christians in their life in Christ we sign up to be shepherds.
As Christians we are the Body of Christ in the world. As Christians we are the Good Shepherd in the world. As Christians we sign up to be shepherds.
We are shepherds when we gather together as we have this evening, devoting ourselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.
We are shepherds when we reach out in love to someone who doesn’t have a home or enough food to eat.
We are shepherds when we reach out in love to someone who is sick and afraid of the future.
We are shepherds when we reach out in love to someone who mourns the death of one they love.
We are shepherds when we reach out in love to someone who has wronged us and offer forgiveness.
We are sheep and we are shepherds.
A bishop is reminded of the awesome responsibility of being a shepherd every time she takes up her staff.
But, the staff should serve as a reminder for all Christians - here in Gainesville, in Cuba, and everywhere.
It should remind us of the love of Jesus the Good Shepherd for us, his sheep.
It should also remind us that we are sheep who are also called to be shepherds – that by God’s grace we are the Body of Christ in the world – that by God’s grace we are the Good Shepherd in the world, today, right here and right now.
Amen.
May 18, 2011
Year A: Wednesday in the Fourth Week of Easter
Sermon Preached on the Occasion of the Visit of
The Rt. Rev. Griselda Delgado Del Carpio, the Episcopal Bishop of Cuba
Acts 2:42-47
Psalm 23
1 Peter 2:19-25
John 10:1-10
Shepherds, Sheep, Bishops and Us
I grew up in Jersey City – a large, paved-over place overshadowed by the much larger New York City, just across the Hudson River.
Being formed in such a very urban environment I’ve always struggled with the sheep and shepherd imagery that is found throughout the Bible, in both the Old and New Testaments.
I’ve never seen a shepherd in person – and the only sheep I’ve encountered were enjoying the cozy protection of a petting zoo.
Maybe those of you who grew up in rural Florida or Cuba or Bolivia have an easier time than I do relating to the sheep and shepherd imagery in the Bible.
Certainly in Palestine, past and present, sheep and shepherds were all over the place, so it’s no surprise that sheep are mentioned more than 500 times in the Bible. In the Old Testament most of the references are literal while in the New Testament the references tend to be metaphorical – Jesus is the Good Shepherd and we are his sheep.
No matter where we’re from it’s a beautiful and powerful image.
Jesus is the Good Shepherd and we are his sheep.
A beautiful image, but, so what?
What do these beautiful metaphors for Jesus and us have to do with our daily lives back in Jersey City or here in Gainesville or in Cuba or anywhere?
Today- right here and now - how exactly does Jesus act as our shepherd?
Today – right here and now - how exactly are we his sheep?
Part of the answer is found in today’s passage from the Acts of the Apostles where we get a glimpse of life in the early church. Like us, those early Christians were living in a time when the resurrected Christ was no longer present in the way that he had been in those amazing first days after Easter.
Instead Jesus the Good Shepherd was present – is present – in the Church, in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of the bread and the prayers.
It’s here in church that we are reminded that we are all sheep, loved and cared for by the Good Shepherd.
Now, near as I can tell, in a real pasture sheep don’t have any responsibilities except sticking together.
But, as Christians you and I have some very important responsibilities.
Of course bishops are well aware of their responsibilities. They are the heirs of the apostles and are expected to be shepherds - to search for the sheep who go astray, to reach out to the sheep who are not yet part of the flock, to protect the sheep from those who want to harm the flock.
I imagine that every bishop is reminded of those awesome responsibilities every time she takes up her crozier - her staff – the powerful symbol of the bishop’s role as shepherd.
But, the rest of us, you and I, we’re not just sheep. As part of the Body of Christ in the world we are also called to be shepherds. We are also called to take on the sometimes tedious, occasionally infuriating, often demanding and always important work of shepherding Christ’s flock.
At every baptism the congregation is asked, “Will you who witness these vows do all in your power to support these persons in their life in Christ?”
And the congregation responds with gusto, “We will!”
When we say we will do all in our power to support our fellow Christians in their life in Christ we sign up to be shepherds.
As Christians we are the Body of Christ in the world. As Christians we are the Good Shepherd in the world. As Christians we sign up to be shepherds.
We are shepherds when we gather together as we have this evening, devoting ourselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.
We are shepherds when we reach out in love to someone who doesn’t have a home or enough food to eat.
We are shepherds when we reach out in love to someone who is sick and afraid of the future.
We are shepherds when we reach out in love to someone who mourns the death of one they love.
We are shepherds when we reach out in love to someone who has wronged us and offer forgiveness.
We are sheep and we are shepherds.
A bishop is reminded of the awesome responsibility of being a shepherd every time she takes up her staff.
But, the staff should serve as a reminder for all Christians - here in Gainesville, in Cuba, and everywhere.
It should remind us of the love of Jesus the Good Shepherd for us, his sheep.
It should also remind us that we are sheep who are also called to be shepherds – that by God’s grace we are the Body of Christ in the world – that by God’s grace we are the Good Shepherd in the world, today, right here and right now.
Amen.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
More Than a Lifeguard (Chapel of the Incarnation)
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
May 15, 2011
Year A: The Fourth Sunday of Easter
Acts 2:42-47
Psalm 23
1 Peter 2:19-25
John 10:1-10
More than a Lifeguard
I’ve started reading a book called Almost Christian. The book is a summary of and reflection on the recent National Study of Youth and Religion – a massive, multi-year look into what American teenagers think about religion.
The survey found that young people – probably mirroring their own parents – are not hostile to religion. That’s the good news.
They just don’t care about it very much. That’s the bad news.
On one level, we might rejoice that young people don’t hate religion or despise the church.
But, apathy is probably even worse than strong, if negative, feelings.
Here’s how the author summarizes what American youth think about religion:
1. A god exists who created and orders the world and watches over life on earth.
2. God wants people to be good, nice, and fair to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions.
3. The central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about oneself.
4. God is not involved in my life except when I need God to solve a problem.
5. Good people go to heaven when they die.
When you think about all the horrible things that people could think or believe, this is not a bad set of beliefs. We might even agree with at least some of them.
But, especially on this Good Shepherd Sunday, it’s number four that really catches my attention:
God is not involved in my life except when I need God to solve a problem.
The author describes this belief as thinking of God as a divine lifeguard. We don’t think about very much about God the lifeguard when we’re having a great time splashing our way through life.
But, the moment something goes wrong, the moment there’s a crisis, the lifeguard suddenly becomes very important. And later, once the crisis passes, we don’t think about the lifeguard again - until the next time we’re in trouble.
There’s nothing wrong exactly with thinking about God as a lifeguard, except that it’s such an impoverished metaphor for who God really is and for the role that God wants to play in our lives.
The Lord is my lifeguard doesn’t quite cut it, does it?
A lifeguard is way up there, while we’re down here in the pool.
A lifeguard is way up there, looking down on anonymous people bobbing in the pool, ready to jump into action at the first sign of trouble.
And, it’s true that, like a lifeguard, God comes to our aid when there’s a crisis, pouring out the grace and strength we need in a crisis.
But, God is much more than a lifeguard. God is a shepherd.
God is a shepherd who knows us and cares for us. God is a shepherd who’s down here with us – wanting to be discovered by us and known by us.
At the heart of our Jewish-Christian tradition is the story of God reaching out us, revealing Godself to us, innumerable ways, over and over again.
A couple of weeks ago there was a story in a British newspaper of a young Scottish girl named LuLu who was told by her teachers to write a letter to God. In this letter she was told to ask God, “how did you get invented?”
LuLu’s parents were startled when they heard about this assignment. Rather than trying to answer the question themselves, they forwarded Lulu’s question to a number of British religious leaders. One of those leaders, Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, took the time to personally respond to LuLu’s question.
In his response the archbishop imagined how God would reply to LuLu’s question. Here’s part of it:
‘Dear Lulu – Nobody invented me – but lots of people discovered me and were quite surprised. They discovered me when they looked round at the world and thought it was really beautiful or really mysterious and wondered where it came from. They discovered me when they were very very quiet on their own and felt a sort of peace and love they hadn’t expected.
Then they invented ideas about me – some of them sensible and some of them not very sensible. From time to time I sent them some hints – specially in the life of Jesus – to help them get closer to what I’m really like.”
The archbishop’s response to LuLu is both charming and profound.
His response touches on the great truth of how we discover God who is so much more than a lifeguard.
When we look at the beauty of the world, we discover a God of unlimited imagination and creativity.
When we make time for quiet – to reflect and pray – we discover God in a sense of peace and love we hadn’t expected.
And most especially in Jesus the Good Shepherd, we discover a God who loves us enough – who wants so much to be discovered by us - to join us on earth as a flesh and blood human being.
In Jesus the Good Shepherd we discover a God who calls us each by name.
In Jesus the Good Shepherd we discover a God who gives us life and wants us to have it abundantly.
And we heard what that abundant life is like in the snapshot of the early church in today’s reading from Acts:
“Those who had been baptized devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.”
With that foundation of prayer and worship the first Christians made room for God and grew ever closer to the Good Shepherd. And, we’re told that with that foundation of prayer and worship the apostles did amazing signs and wonders.
And when they faced inevitable times of crisis in their lives, those early Christians didn’t look to God as a lifeguard because, thanks to Jesus, they knew God was already right there in the water with them.
In times of crisis, those early Christians looked to God they knew as a shepherd – God who knew them, loved them, protected them and led them.
And what was true in the First Century is just as true now in the Twenty-First Century.
Just look around.
We gather here in the chapel each week (some of us even during the summer!) just like the first Christians – telling and hearing the old stories, supporting one another, breaking bread and praying together.
We gather here in the chapel to make room for God – to grow closer to God.
We gather here in the chapel to get to know God not as a lifeguard watching from afar but to get to know God as a shepherd right here in the pasture with us.
So, when the inevitable times of crisis come in our lives, we won’t look to God as just a lifeguard because, thanks to Jesus, we know that God is already down here with us in the sometimes dangerous and frightening waters of life.
When the inevitable times of crisis come in our lives, we can look to God we knew as a shepherd – God who knows us, loves us, protects us and leads us.
Amen.
May 15, 2011
Year A: The Fourth Sunday of Easter
Acts 2:42-47
Psalm 23
1 Peter 2:19-25
John 10:1-10
More than a Lifeguard
I’ve started reading a book called Almost Christian. The book is a summary of and reflection on the recent National Study of Youth and Religion – a massive, multi-year look into what American teenagers think about religion.
The survey found that young people – probably mirroring their own parents – are not hostile to religion. That’s the good news.
They just don’t care about it very much. That’s the bad news.
On one level, we might rejoice that young people don’t hate religion or despise the church.
But, apathy is probably even worse than strong, if negative, feelings.
Here’s how the author summarizes what American youth think about religion:
1. A god exists who created and orders the world and watches over life on earth.
2. God wants people to be good, nice, and fair to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions.
3. The central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about oneself.
4. God is not involved in my life except when I need God to solve a problem.
5. Good people go to heaven when they die.
When you think about all the horrible things that people could think or believe, this is not a bad set of beliefs. We might even agree with at least some of them.
But, especially on this Good Shepherd Sunday, it’s number four that really catches my attention:
God is not involved in my life except when I need God to solve a problem.
The author describes this belief as thinking of God as a divine lifeguard. We don’t think about very much about God the lifeguard when we’re having a great time splashing our way through life.
But, the moment something goes wrong, the moment there’s a crisis, the lifeguard suddenly becomes very important. And later, once the crisis passes, we don’t think about the lifeguard again - until the next time we’re in trouble.
There’s nothing wrong exactly with thinking about God as a lifeguard, except that it’s such an impoverished metaphor for who God really is and for the role that God wants to play in our lives.
The Lord is my lifeguard doesn’t quite cut it, does it?
A lifeguard is way up there, while we’re down here in the pool.
A lifeguard is way up there, looking down on anonymous people bobbing in the pool, ready to jump into action at the first sign of trouble.
And, it’s true that, like a lifeguard, God comes to our aid when there’s a crisis, pouring out the grace and strength we need in a crisis.
But, God is much more than a lifeguard. God is a shepherd.
God is a shepherd who knows us and cares for us. God is a shepherd who’s down here with us – wanting to be discovered by us and known by us.
At the heart of our Jewish-Christian tradition is the story of God reaching out us, revealing Godself to us, innumerable ways, over and over again.
A couple of weeks ago there was a story in a British newspaper of a young Scottish girl named LuLu who was told by her teachers to write a letter to God. In this letter she was told to ask God, “how did you get invented?”
LuLu’s parents were startled when they heard about this assignment. Rather than trying to answer the question themselves, they forwarded Lulu’s question to a number of British religious leaders. One of those leaders, Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, took the time to personally respond to LuLu’s question.
In his response the archbishop imagined how God would reply to LuLu’s question. Here’s part of it:
‘Dear Lulu – Nobody invented me – but lots of people discovered me and were quite surprised. They discovered me when they looked round at the world and thought it was really beautiful or really mysterious and wondered where it came from. They discovered me when they were very very quiet on their own and felt a sort of peace and love they hadn’t expected.
Then they invented ideas about me – some of them sensible and some of them not very sensible. From time to time I sent them some hints – specially in the life of Jesus – to help them get closer to what I’m really like.”
The archbishop’s response to LuLu is both charming and profound.
His response touches on the great truth of how we discover God who is so much more than a lifeguard.
When we look at the beauty of the world, we discover a God of unlimited imagination and creativity.
When we make time for quiet – to reflect and pray – we discover God in a sense of peace and love we hadn’t expected.
And most especially in Jesus the Good Shepherd, we discover a God who loves us enough – who wants so much to be discovered by us - to join us on earth as a flesh and blood human being.
In Jesus the Good Shepherd we discover a God who calls us each by name.
In Jesus the Good Shepherd we discover a God who gives us life and wants us to have it abundantly.
And we heard what that abundant life is like in the snapshot of the early church in today’s reading from Acts:
“Those who had been baptized devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.”
With that foundation of prayer and worship the first Christians made room for God and grew ever closer to the Good Shepherd. And, we’re told that with that foundation of prayer and worship the apostles did amazing signs and wonders.
And when they faced inevitable times of crisis in their lives, those early Christians didn’t look to God as a lifeguard because, thanks to Jesus, they knew God was already right there in the water with them.
In times of crisis, those early Christians looked to God they knew as a shepherd – God who knew them, loved them, protected them and led them.
And what was true in the First Century is just as true now in the Twenty-First Century.
Just look around.
We gather here in the chapel each week (some of us even during the summer!) just like the first Christians – telling and hearing the old stories, supporting one another, breaking bread and praying together.
We gather here in the chapel to make room for God – to grow closer to God.
We gather here in the chapel to get to know God not as a lifeguard watching from afar but to get to know God as a shepherd right here in the pasture with us.
So, when the inevitable times of crisis come in our lives, we won’t look to God as just a lifeguard because, thanks to Jesus, we know that God is already down here with us in the sometimes dangerous and frightening waters of life.
When the inevitable times of crisis come in our lives, we can look to God we knew as a shepherd – God who knows us, loves us, protects us and leads us.
Amen.
More Than a Lifeguard (St. Michael's)
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
May 15, 2011
Year A: The Fourth Sunday of Easter
Acts 2:42-47
Psalm 23
1 Peter 2:19-25
John 10:1-10
More than a Lifeguard
I’ve started reading a book called Almost Christian. The book is a summary of and reflection on the recent National Study of Youth and Religion – a massive, multi-year look into what American teenagers think about religion.
The survey found that young people – probably mirroring their own parents – are not hostile to religion. They just don’t care about it very much.
On one level, we might rejoice that our young people don’t hate religion or despise the church.
But, apathy is probably even worse than strong, if negative, feelings.
Here’s how the author summarizes what American youth think about religion:
1. A god exists who created and orders the world and watches over life on earth.
2. God wants people to be good, nice, and fair to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions.
3. The central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about oneself.
4. God is not involved in my life except when I need God to solve a problem.
5. Good people go to heaven when they die.
When you think about all the horrible things that people could think or believe, this is not a bad set of beliefs. We might even agree with at least some of them.
But, especially on this Good Shepherd Sunday, it’s number four that really catches my attention:
God is not involved in my life except when I need God to solve a problem.
The author describes this belief as thinking of God as a divine lifeguard. We don’t think about very much about God the lifeguard when we’re having a great time splashing our way through life.
But, the moment something goes wrong, the moment there’s a crisis, the lifeguard suddenly becomes very important. And later, once the crisis passes, we don’t think about the lifeguard again - until the next time we’re in trouble.
There’s nothing wrong exactly with thinking about God as a lifeguard, except that it’s such an impoverished metaphor for who God really is and for the role that God wants to play in our lives.
The Lord is my lifeguard doesn’t quite cut it, does it?
A lifeguard is way up there, while we’re down here in the pool.
A lifeguard is way up there, looking down on anonymous people bobbing in the pool, ready to jump into action at the first sign of trouble.
And, it’s true that, like a lifeguard, God comes to our aid when there’s a crisis, pouring out the grace and strength we need in a crisis.
But, God is much more than a lifeguard. God is a shepherd.
God is a shepherd who knows us and cares for us. God is a shepherd who’s down here with us – wanting to be discovered by us and known by us.
At the heart of our Jewish-Christian tradition is the story of God reaching out us, revealing Godself to us, innumerable ways, over and over again.
A couple of weeks ago there was a story in a British newspaper of a young Scottish girl named LuLu who was told by her teachers to write a letter to God. In this letter she was told to ask God, “how did you get invented?”
LuLu’s parents were startled when they heard about this assignment. Rather than trying to answer the question themselves, they forwarded Lulu’s question to a number of British religious leaders. One of those leaders, Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, took the time to personally respond to LuLu’s question.
In his response the archbishop imagined how God would reply to LuLu’s question. Here’s part of it:
‘Dear Lulu – Nobody invented me – but lots of people discovered me and were quite surprised. They discovered me when they looked round at the world and thought it was really beautiful or really mysterious and wondered where it came from. They discovered me when they were very very quiet on their own and felt a sort of peace and love they hadn’t expected.
Then they invented ideas about me – some of them sensible and some of them not very sensible. From time to time I sent them some hints – specially in the life of Jesus – to help them get closer to what I’m really like.”
The archbishop’s response to LuLu is both charming and profound.
His response touches on the great truth of how we discover God who is so much more than a lifeguard.
When we look at the beauty of the world, we discover a God of unlimited imagination and creativity.
When we make time for quiet – to reflect and pray – we discover God in a sense of peace and love we hadn’t expected.
And most especially in Jesus the Good Shepherd, we discover a God who loves us enough – who wants so much to be discovered by us - to join us on earth as a flesh and blood human being.
In Jesus the Good Shepherd we discover a God who calls us each by name.
In Jesus the Good Shepherd we discover a God who gives us life and wants us to have it abundantly.
And we heard what that abundant life is like in the snapshot of the early church in today’s reading from Acts:
“Those who had been baptized devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.”
With that foundation of prayer and worship they grew ever closer to the Good Shepherd. And, we’re told the apostles did amazing signs and wonders.
In times of crisis, those early Christians didn’t look to God as a lifeguard because, thanks to Jesus, they knew God was already right there in the water with them.
In times of crisis, those early Christians looked to God they knew as a shepherd – God who knew them, loved them, protected them and led them.
And what was true in the First Century is just as true now in the Twenty-First Century.
Just look around.
Four years ago, right here at St. Michael’s, in a time of crisis, a handful of people put their faith in Jesus the Good Shepherd.
And look what happened and is happening.
Thanks to Jesus the Good Shepherd and a handful of hardworking sheep, a church that just about everyone thought was going to die lived on.
More and more people found and continue to find Jesus the Good Shepherd right here in this pasture.
Lately about sixty sheep have been gathering each Sunday in this pasture.
And today I’m pleased to announce that for the first time since the split St. Michael’s has hired a parish administrator.
So, look what happens when week after week we come here and listen to the old stories of Scripture, when, like the early Church, we devote ourselves “to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of the bread and the prayers.”
Look what happens when, despite our own weaknesses and failures and frustrations, we allow God into our lives, allow God to be our shepherd.
Look what happens when we recognize and share the great news that God is so much more – and wants to be so much more - than a lifeguard watching over us from a distance.
Look what happens when we recognize and share the great news that the Lord is our shepherd.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
May 15, 2011
Year A: The Fourth Sunday of Easter
Acts 2:42-47
Psalm 23
1 Peter 2:19-25
John 10:1-10
More than a Lifeguard
I’ve started reading a book called Almost Christian. The book is a summary of and reflection on the recent National Study of Youth and Religion – a massive, multi-year look into what American teenagers think about religion.
The survey found that young people – probably mirroring their own parents – are not hostile to religion. They just don’t care about it very much.
On one level, we might rejoice that our young people don’t hate religion or despise the church.
But, apathy is probably even worse than strong, if negative, feelings.
Here’s how the author summarizes what American youth think about religion:
1. A god exists who created and orders the world and watches over life on earth.
2. God wants people to be good, nice, and fair to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions.
3. The central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about oneself.
4. God is not involved in my life except when I need God to solve a problem.
5. Good people go to heaven when they die.
When you think about all the horrible things that people could think or believe, this is not a bad set of beliefs. We might even agree with at least some of them.
But, especially on this Good Shepherd Sunday, it’s number four that really catches my attention:
God is not involved in my life except when I need God to solve a problem.
The author describes this belief as thinking of God as a divine lifeguard. We don’t think about very much about God the lifeguard when we’re having a great time splashing our way through life.
But, the moment something goes wrong, the moment there’s a crisis, the lifeguard suddenly becomes very important. And later, once the crisis passes, we don’t think about the lifeguard again - until the next time we’re in trouble.
There’s nothing wrong exactly with thinking about God as a lifeguard, except that it’s such an impoverished metaphor for who God really is and for the role that God wants to play in our lives.
The Lord is my lifeguard doesn’t quite cut it, does it?
A lifeguard is way up there, while we’re down here in the pool.
A lifeguard is way up there, looking down on anonymous people bobbing in the pool, ready to jump into action at the first sign of trouble.
And, it’s true that, like a lifeguard, God comes to our aid when there’s a crisis, pouring out the grace and strength we need in a crisis.
But, God is much more than a lifeguard. God is a shepherd.
God is a shepherd who knows us and cares for us. God is a shepherd who’s down here with us – wanting to be discovered by us and known by us.
At the heart of our Jewish-Christian tradition is the story of God reaching out us, revealing Godself to us, innumerable ways, over and over again.
A couple of weeks ago there was a story in a British newspaper of a young Scottish girl named LuLu who was told by her teachers to write a letter to God. In this letter she was told to ask God, “how did you get invented?”
LuLu’s parents were startled when they heard about this assignment. Rather than trying to answer the question themselves, they forwarded Lulu’s question to a number of British religious leaders. One of those leaders, Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, took the time to personally respond to LuLu’s question.
In his response the archbishop imagined how God would reply to LuLu’s question. Here’s part of it:
‘Dear Lulu – Nobody invented me – but lots of people discovered me and were quite surprised. They discovered me when they looked round at the world and thought it was really beautiful or really mysterious and wondered where it came from. They discovered me when they were very very quiet on their own and felt a sort of peace and love they hadn’t expected.
Then they invented ideas about me – some of them sensible and some of them not very sensible. From time to time I sent them some hints – specially in the life of Jesus – to help them get closer to what I’m really like.”
The archbishop’s response to LuLu is both charming and profound.
His response touches on the great truth of how we discover God who is so much more than a lifeguard.
When we look at the beauty of the world, we discover a God of unlimited imagination and creativity.
When we make time for quiet – to reflect and pray – we discover God in a sense of peace and love we hadn’t expected.
And most especially in Jesus the Good Shepherd, we discover a God who loves us enough – who wants so much to be discovered by us - to join us on earth as a flesh and blood human being.
In Jesus the Good Shepherd we discover a God who calls us each by name.
In Jesus the Good Shepherd we discover a God who gives us life and wants us to have it abundantly.
And we heard what that abundant life is like in the snapshot of the early church in today’s reading from Acts:
“Those who had been baptized devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.”
With that foundation of prayer and worship they grew ever closer to the Good Shepherd. And, we’re told the apostles did amazing signs and wonders.
In times of crisis, those early Christians didn’t look to God as a lifeguard because, thanks to Jesus, they knew God was already right there in the water with them.
In times of crisis, those early Christians looked to God they knew as a shepherd – God who knew them, loved them, protected them and led them.
And what was true in the First Century is just as true now in the Twenty-First Century.
Just look around.
Four years ago, right here at St. Michael’s, in a time of crisis, a handful of people put their faith in Jesus the Good Shepherd.
And look what happened and is happening.
Thanks to Jesus the Good Shepherd and a handful of hardworking sheep, a church that just about everyone thought was going to die lived on.
More and more people found and continue to find Jesus the Good Shepherd right here in this pasture.
Lately about sixty sheep have been gathering each Sunday in this pasture.
And today I’m pleased to announce that for the first time since the split St. Michael’s has hired a parish administrator.
So, look what happens when week after week we come here and listen to the old stories of Scripture, when, like the early Church, we devote ourselves “to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of the bread and the prayers.”
Look what happens when, despite our own weaknesses and failures and frustrations, we allow God into our lives, allow God to be our shepherd.
Look what happens when we recognize and share the great news that God is so much more – and wants to be so much more - than a lifeguard watching over us from a distance.
Look what happens when we recognize and share the great news that the Lord is our shepherd.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Saturday, May 07, 2011
Discovering God
The Wedding of Katherine Huening and Asher Walden
May 7, 2011
Song of Solomon 2:10-13; 8:6-7
Colossians 3:12-17
Mark 10:6-9, 13-16
Discovering God
A couple of weeks ago there was a story in a British newspaper of a young Scottish girl named LuLu who was told by her teachers to write a letter to God. In this letter she was told to ask God, “how did you get invented?”
LuLu’s parents were startled when they heard about this assignment. Rather than trying to answer the question themselves, they forwarded Lulu’s question to a number of British religious leaders. One of those leaders, Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, took the time to personally respond to LuLu’s question.
In his response the archbishop imagined how God would reply to LuLu. Here’s part of it:
‘Dear Lulu – Nobody invented me – but lots of people discovered me and were quite surprised. They discovered me when they looked round at the world and thought it was really beautiful or really mysterious and wondered where it came from. They discovered me when they were very very quiet on their own and felt a sort of peace and love they hadn’t expected.”
The archbishop’s response to LuLu is both charming and profound.
His response touches on the great truth of how we discover God.
The story of God and humanity is a story of God being passionately in love with us – the passionate love that we hear in the words of the Song of Solomon – the passionate love “strong as death.” and “fierce as the grave.”
Because God loves us so much, is so passionate about us, God is always reaching out to us, eager to be discovered by us.
The story of God and humanity is a story of God reaching out us – from God searching for an ashamed Adam and Eve hiding in the garden to God revealing in Christ’s empty tomb that, in fact, love is stronger than death.
And God continues to reach out to us, eager to be discovered by us.
We discover God in the words of Scripture as when the author of the Letter to the Colossians writes, “Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.”
We discover God when we stop and realize, despite all of the world’s sadness and suffering, just how amazingly good it is to be alive.
We discover God when we open our eyes, look around us, and see the beauty of nature.
We discover God in the quiet of our hearts, when, as the archbishop wrote, we feel a sort of peace and love that we never expected to feel.
We discover God in the love that we share with those closest to us – with our wives and husbands, with our parents and our children, with our dearest friends.
And, every once in a while, God goes a little overboard. Every once in a while God wants so much to be discovered that God reaches out to us in all of these ways, all at the same time.
That’s what’s happening today. That’s what God is doing right here as we gather to witness the union of Katie and Asher.
We are discovering God right here and now.
We are discovering God in the beauty of this place.
We are discovering God in the beautiful passages of Scripture that we’ve heard today.
We are discovering God in the quiet of our hearts, as we reflect on the amazing journeys that brought these two wonderful people together, the unlikely journey that brought Katie and Asher here and now to make the commitment of a lifetime.
We are discovering God in the love that Katie and Asher share with each other, in the love that I saw was powerful and obvious enough to shine through even our long distance Skype sessions to prepare for today and for a life together.
And now we’re here.
We’re here to celebrate and give thanks.
We’re here to celebrate and give thanks for the love of God that we discover in so many ways, but today especially in the love of Katie and Asher.
Katie and Asher, today is a milestone on the journey of discovery that has been and will be your life together.
Katie and Asher, if you keep your eyes open, during the good times and the not so good, you will continue to discover God in one another, in the love that you share, and in the life that you have begun to build together.
And, Katie and Asher, if you keep your hearts open, you will continue to give all of us the great gift of discovering God in you, helping all of us to feel a sort of peace and love we hadn’t expected.
So, thanks to you both for sharing your love with us.
And thanks be to God for always reaching out to us, always eager to be discovered.
Amen.
May 7, 2011
Song of Solomon 2:10-13; 8:6-7
Colossians 3:12-17
Mark 10:6-9, 13-16
Discovering God
A couple of weeks ago there was a story in a British newspaper of a young Scottish girl named LuLu who was told by her teachers to write a letter to God. In this letter she was told to ask God, “how did you get invented?”
LuLu’s parents were startled when they heard about this assignment. Rather than trying to answer the question themselves, they forwarded Lulu’s question to a number of British religious leaders. One of those leaders, Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, took the time to personally respond to LuLu’s question.
In his response the archbishop imagined how God would reply to LuLu. Here’s part of it:
‘Dear Lulu – Nobody invented me – but lots of people discovered me and were quite surprised. They discovered me when they looked round at the world and thought it was really beautiful or really mysterious and wondered where it came from. They discovered me when they were very very quiet on their own and felt a sort of peace and love they hadn’t expected.”
The archbishop’s response to LuLu is both charming and profound.
His response touches on the great truth of how we discover God.
The story of God and humanity is a story of God being passionately in love with us – the passionate love that we hear in the words of the Song of Solomon – the passionate love “strong as death.” and “fierce as the grave.”
Because God loves us so much, is so passionate about us, God is always reaching out to us, eager to be discovered by us.
The story of God and humanity is a story of God reaching out us – from God searching for an ashamed Adam and Eve hiding in the garden to God revealing in Christ’s empty tomb that, in fact, love is stronger than death.
And God continues to reach out to us, eager to be discovered by us.
We discover God in the words of Scripture as when the author of the Letter to the Colossians writes, “Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.”
We discover God when we stop and realize, despite all of the world’s sadness and suffering, just how amazingly good it is to be alive.
We discover God when we open our eyes, look around us, and see the beauty of nature.
We discover God in the quiet of our hearts, when, as the archbishop wrote, we feel a sort of peace and love that we never expected to feel.
We discover God in the love that we share with those closest to us – with our wives and husbands, with our parents and our children, with our dearest friends.
And, every once in a while, God goes a little overboard. Every once in a while God wants so much to be discovered that God reaches out to us in all of these ways, all at the same time.
That’s what’s happening today. That’s what God is doing right here as we gather to witness the union of Katie and Asher.
We are discovering God right here and now.
We are discovering God in the beauty of this place.
We are discovering God in the beautiful passages of Scripture that we’ve heard today.
We are discovering God in the quiet of our hearts, as we reflect on the amazing journeys that brought these two wonderful people together, the unlikely journey that brought Katie and Asher here and now to make the commitment of a lifetime.
We are discovering God in the love that Katie and Asher share with each other, in the love that I saw was powerful and obvious enough to shine through even our long distance Skype sessions to prepare for today and for a life together.
And now we’re here.
We’re here to celebrate and give thanks.
We’re here to celebrate and give thanks for the love of God that we discover in so many ways, but today especially in the love of Katie and Asher.
Katie and Asher, today is a milestone on the journey of discovery that has been and will be your life together.
Katie and Asher, if you keep your eyes open, during the good times and the not so good, you will continue to discover God in one another, in the love that you share, and in the life that you have begun to build together.
And, Katie and Asher, if you keep your hearts open, you will continue to give all of us the great gift of discovering God in you, helping all of us to feel a sort of peace and love we hadn’t expected.
So, thanks to you both for sharing your love with us.
And thanks be to God for always reaching out to us, always eager to be discovered.
Amen.
Sunday, May 01, 2011
Verification
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Gainesville FL
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
May 1, 2011
Year A: The Second Sunday of Easter
Acts 2:14a, 22-32
Psalm 16
1 Peter 1:3-9
John 20:19-31
Verification
By now, the world has moved on from Easter. The Easter candy that everybody likes has already been eaten. The Easter baskets have been put away for another year, or they’re still out, looking a little threadbare with just a few stray jellybeans or some unpopular candy all that’s left.
But, here in church it’s still Easter. The paschal candle is still front and center, symbolizing the light of Christ in the world. The lilies are still giving church a beautiful fragrance. And since it’s still Easter, we began the service with the great acclamation of faith:
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
It’s the great acclamation of our faith – Jesus was dead and then God raised Jesus on the third day. It’s the heart of our Christian faith – it’s what we are expected to believe – it’s what we say we believe each time we stand and say the words of the Nicene Creed.
But, if we’re honest, many of us would admit that we often struggle with our faith, we struggle with the great acclamation of our faith that Christ is risen.
Part of faith is agreeing that certain claims are true. Part of faith is standing and saying the creed as if it were a checklist of claims that we can agree are true. I believe in this, that and the other thing…
But, a much more important part of faith is trust.
And trust is very difficult for many of us, isn’t it? Trust is difficult because we’ve all been lied to, betrayed, misled, and hurt more times than we’d care to count.
Trust is difficult for many of us because we have not always been trustworthy.
So, we’re suspicious of people’s motives – what’s in it for you? Are you somehow trying to take advantage of me? Why are you being so nice to me?
For many of us, the best we can do is the supposedly Russian proverb frequently quoted by President Reagan, “Trust but verify.”
If you stop and think about it, that proverb presumes an open heart, a willingness to trust. But that proverb also reflects the real and important fact that we don’t want to be taken advantage of, don’t want to be abused, don’t want to be played for a fool.
“Trust, but verify.”
Here in church it’s still Easter here and it’s still Easter at the start of today’s gospel lesson. It’s Easter and, maybe like us, the disciples seem to be having some trust issues.
Last week, you’ll remember, the Evangelist John described the appearance of the Resurrected Christ to a stunned and overjoyed Mary Magdalene. We left off with Mary going to the other disciples, telling them “I have seen the Lord”, and telling them what he had said to her.
We’re not told exactly how the disciples reacted to Magdalene’s amazing news – but I think we can rule out that the disciples trusted blindly what Mary told them. John does give us a clue about the disciples’ trust issues at the start of today’s passage when he tells us that in the evening of the same day the disciples were hiding fearfully in a locked room. The locked room powerfully symbolizes the closed hearts of the disciples. They lack the openness that is the beginning of trust.
But then Jesus appeared – still himself with the wounds on his hands and his side.
Jesus appeared – still himself but also transformed – he mysteriously entered the locked room and then in a kind of mini-Pentecost, he breathed the Holy Spirit onto his disciples.
At this point trust is no problem for the disciples. At this point the disciples have received all the verification they will ever need. Like Mary Magdalene, they can say with complete confidence, “I have seen the Lord!”
But, what about the rest of us?
Like us, the Apostle Thomas was not present for this powerfully convincing appearance of the Risen Christ. When he hears the news from the other disciples, he is appropriately skeptical. But, notice that Thomas doesn’t close himself off. Thomas doesn’t run away from Christ and his friends, trying to forget that his time with Jesus had ever happened.
No, Thomas has the openness that is the beginning of trust. He is open enough to the possibility that the disciples are telling him the truth that he still spends time with them.
And then Thomas gets his famous verification when the wounded and risen Christ appears once again.
Thomas is often called “Doubting Thomas” and I guess that’s true. But, really Thomas is the patron saint of all of us who struggle with faith as trust. Thomas is the patron saint of “Trust but verify.”
Since we’re here in church on the Second Sunday after Easter – when things have returned to normal and many people have returned to their normal Sunday activities – it’s safe to say that we all have a certain amount of openness to the claims of Christianity – a certain amount of openness to the acclamation that Christ is risen, the Lord is risen indeed.
We have the openness that is the beginning of trust.
But, how and when do we get verification?
We are not likely to encounter the Risen Christ the disciples did in the locked room long ago.
But if, like Thomas, we begin with openness that is the beginning of trust, we can get verification all around us.
The author of the Gospel of John declares that the gospel is “written that you may come to believe.”
We get verification in the Scriptures when we read and hear these old texts and feel God’s love and grace in the deepest meanings and messages that transcend time and space.
We get verification in our own Christian community right here. We get verification when we come here and in the words of the great spiritual we can really feel that “there’s a sweet, sweet Spirit in this place, and I know that it’s the Spirit of the Lord.”
We get verification when we exchange the peace with friend and stranger alike. We get verification when we come together at the Lord’s Table and each receive the same portion of the bread of heaven and each drink from the same cup of salvation.
Most of all, we get verification after we leave here. We get verification when we go out those doors into the world and live lives different from our neighbors, with values different from what the world thinks is important.
When we devote our lives to living out the words of the Baptismal Covenant, we can really feel the presence of the Risen Christ with us and with the people we encounter and serve.
We get verification when persevere in resisting evil, and we sin, we repent and return to the Lord.
We get verification when we proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ.
We get verification when we seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves
We get verification when we strive for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being.
The doubtful but openhearted Apostle Thomas is our patron saint – Thomas is the patron saint of “trust, but verify”.
Thomas received special verification that the Lord is risen indeed. But, I bet that wasn’t the last verification that he received. According to tradition, Thomas brought the Good News of Christ all the way to India – and, in fact, sacrificed his life for Christ there.
As powerful as his personal verification was, I am sure that over the course of his journey of sharing the Good News, his journey of serving and loving the strangers he met, Thomas, like us, received ever surer verification that, alleluia, Christ is risen.
Amen.
The Chapel of the Incarnation, Gainesville FL
May 1, 2011
Year A: The Second Sunday of Easter
Acts 2:14a, 22-32
Psalm 16
1 Peter 1:3-9
John 20:19-31
Verification
By now, the world has moved on from Easter. The Easter candy that everybody likes has already been eaten. The Easter baskets have been put away for another year, or they’re still out, looking a little threadbare with just a few stray jellybeans or some unpopular candy all that’s left.
But, here in church it’s still Easter. The paschal candle is still front and center, symbolizing the light of Christ in the world. The lilies are still giving church a beautiful fragrance. And since it’s still Easter, we began the service with the great acclamation of faith:
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
It’s the great acclamation of our faith – Jesus was dead and then God raised Jesus on the third day. It’s the heart of our Christian faith – it’s what we are expected to believe – it’s what we say we believe each time we stand and say the words of the Nicene Creed.
But, if we’re honest, many of us would admit that we often struggle with our faith, we struggle with the great acclamation of our faith that Christ is risen.
Part of faith is agreeing that certain claims are true. Part of faith is standing and saying the creed as if it were a checklist of claims that we can agree are true. I believe in this, that and the other thing…
But, a much more important part of faith is trust.
And trust is very difficult for many of us, isn’t it? Trust is difficult because we’ve all been lied to, betrayed, misled, and hurt more times than we’d care to count.
Trust is difficult for many of us because we have not always been trustworthy.
So, we’re suspicious of people’s motives – what’s in it for you? Are you somehow trying to take advantage of me? Why are you being so nice to me?
For many of us, the best we can do is the supposedly Russian proverb frequently quoted by President Reagan, “Trust but verify.”
If you stop and think about it, that proverb presumes an open heart, a willingness to trust. But that proverb also reflects the real and important fact that we don’t want to be taken advantage of, don’t want to be abused, don’t want to be played for a fool.
“Trust, but verify.”
Here in church it’s still Easter here and it’s still Easter at the start of today’s gospel lesson. It’s Easter and, maybe like us, the disciples seem to be having some trust issues.
Last week, you’ll remember, the Evangelist John described the appearance of the Resurrected Christ to a stunned and overjoyed Mary Magdalene. We left off with Mary going to the other disciples, telling them “I have seen the Lord”, and telling them what he had said to her.
We’re not told exactly how the disciples reacted to Magdalene’s amazing news – but I think we can rule out that the disciples trusted blindly what Mary told them. John does give us a clue about the disciples’ trust issues at the start of today’s passage when he tells us that in the evening of the same day the disciples were hiding fearfully in a locked room. The locked room powerfully symbolizes the closed hearts of the disciples. They lack the openness that is the beginning of trust.
But then Jesus appeared – still himself with the wounds on his hands and his side.
Jesus appeared – still himself but also transformed – he mysteriously entered the locked room and then in a kind of mini-Pentecost, he breathed the Holy Spirit onto his disciples.
At this point trust is no problem for the disciples. At this point the disciples have received all the verification they will ever need. Like Mary Magdalene, they can say with complete confidence, “I have seen the Lord!”
But, what about the rest of us?
Like us, the Apostle Thomas was not present for this powerfully convincing appearance of the Risen Christ. When he hears the news from the other disciples, he is appropriately skeptical. But, notice that Thomas doesn’t close himself off. Thomas doesn’t run away from Christ and his friends, trying to forget that his time with Jesus had ever happened.
No, Thomas has the openness that is the beginning of trust. He is open enough to the possibility that the disciples are telling him the truth that he still spends time with them.
And then Thomas gets his famous verification when the wounded and risen Christ appears once again.
Thomas is often called “Doubting Thomas” and I guess that’s true. But, really Thomas is the patron saint of all of us who struggle with faith as trust. Thomas is the patron saint of “Trust but verify.”
Since we’re here in church on the Second Sunday after Easter – when things have returned to normal and many people have returned to their normal Sunday activities – it’s safe to say that we all have a certain amount of openness to the claims of Christianity – a certain amount of openness to the acclamation that Christ is risen, the Lord is risen indeed.
We have the openness that is the beginning of trust.
But, how and when do we get verification?
We are not likely to encounter the Risen Christ the disciples did in the locked room long ago.
But if, like Thomas, we begin with openness that is the beginning of trust, we can get verification all around us.
The author of the Gospel of John declares that the gospel is “written that you may come to believe.”
We get verification in the Scriptures when we read and hear these old texts and feel God’s love and grace in the deepest meanings and messages that transcend time and space.
We get verification in our own Christian community right here. We get verification when we come here and in the words of the great spiritual we can really feel that “there’s a sweet, sweet Spirit in this place, and I know that it’s the Spirit of the Lord.”
We get verification when we exchange the peace with friend and stranger alike. We get verification when we come together at the Lord’s Table and each receive the same portion of the bread of heaven and each drink from the same cup of salvation.
Most of all, we get verification after we leave here. We get verification when we go out those doors into the world and live lives different from our neighbors, with values different from what the world thinks is important.
When we devote our lives to living out the words of the Baptismal Covenant, we can really feel the presence of the Risen Christ with us and with the people we encounter and serve.
We get verification when persevere in resisting evil, and we sin, we repent and return to the Lord.
We get verification when we proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ.
We get verification when we seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves
We get verification when we strive for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being.
The doubtful but openhearted Apostle Thomas is our patron saint – Thomas is the patron saint of “trust, but verify”.
Thomas received special verification that the Lord is risen indeed. But, I bet that wasn’t the last verification that he received. According to tradition, Thomas brought the Good News of Christ all the way to India – and, in fact, sacrificed his life for Christ there.
As powerful as his personal verification was, I am sure that over the course of his journey of sharing the Good News, his journey of serving and loving the strangers he met, Thomas, like us, received ever surer verification that, alleluia, Christ is risen.
Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
