Call and Response

The Church of St. Paul and Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

January 26, 2020

Year A: The Third Sunday after the Epiphany

Isaiah 9:1-4

Psalm 27:1, 5-13

1 Corinthians 1:10-18

Matthew 4:12-23

Call and Response

            A few weeks ago I received the invitation to my thirty-fifth high school reunion.

            Depending on where you are in life that makes you think that I’m still pretty young - or that I’m really starting to get up there.

            I’ll let you guess how it makes me feel.

            But, you know how it is when you reach a milestone – you think to the old days, look back on the journey, and take stock of how far – or how not very far – you’ve come.

            I arrived as a freshman at St. Peter’s Prep in the fall of 1981, stepping through those doors with what I guess was the normal mix of excitement and fear, wondering what it was going to be like, desperately hoping that I had what it took to succeed in what everyone told me would be a much more competitive academic environment than I was used to.

            My parents paid good money for those four years at Prep so I wish I could say that I remembered more of what I actually learned in class – it’s in here somewhere, I hope – but mostly I remember what went on outside of the classroom – the extracurricular activities, both official and not.

            But, I do remember some of the classroom lessons I learned.

            For example, in freshman religion we were presented with a much more mature, much more sophisticated understanding of the Christian faith than most of us had received in Catholic grammar school or in CCD classes.

            My freshman religion class was taught by a young guy preparing to be ordained as a Jesuit priest. He was very smart – very well educated – and seemed to be very excited by the chance to teach us.

            One day he taught us the very surprising (to me, at least) truth that the four gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John) don’t always agree exactly about the details of Jesus’ life and ministry.

            The gospels were written by and for different Christian communities, communities that had their own traditions and memories, communities that were struggling with different challenges and asking different questions – in the same way that Christian communities today are united in Christ but are often also quite different.

            Maybe sensing that our 14 year-old brains were about to explode, our teacher continued that these inconsistencies and contradictions actually strengthened his faith.

            He argued that if the church had somehow wanted to pull a fast one on people, it would have smoothed over all of these differences among the gospels and presented just one story of Jesus.

            But, instead these four different gospels were all included in the Bible, each one inspired by God, but each offering different, sometimes very different, details and perspectives on Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection – and different reflections on what it all means for us and the world.

            I learned about this nearly forty years ago and obviously it has stuck with me, though at the time I didn’t really think I would spend as much time with the Bible as I do!

            And, I’m bringing this up today because if you were here last Sunday morning you may remember that we heard the story from the Gospel of John, the story of Andrew following Jesus, accepting Jesus’ invitation to “come and see,” and then quickly sharing the good news with his brother Simon.

            Today, though, we heard a different story of how Andrew and Simon Peter became disciples, this time from the Gospel of Matthew. They are quite different stories but the larger point is the same:

            Invitation.

            Come and see.

            Or, maybe better for today’s take on the story: call and response.

            Today’s gospel lesson begins with a kind of changing of the guard.

            John the Baptist has been arrested, bringing to an end his ministry of calling people to repentance and baptizing them in the Jordan.

            And now Jesus begins his ministry with the same message as what John the Baptist had proclaimed:

            “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

            But, there are differences.

While John seems to have stayed put at the River Jordan waiting for people to come to him, Jesus is on the move – Jesus is on the move, returning to his homeland of Galilee, making his way from his hometown of Nazareth to the fishing village of Capernaum.

            Jesus is on the move, calling people – calling people - and expecting a response.

            In today’s story we’re told that while walking along the Sea of Galilee, he saw two sets of fisherman brothers: Peter and Andrew; James and John.

            Jesus calls to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.”

            And, Jesus doesn’t have to wait long for a response.

In a truly remarkable moment, both sets of brothers leave their boats and nets, leave behind their livelihood, leave behind the only lives they had ever known, in the case of James and John, leave behind their father (What did he make of all of this?) and they set out on a journey with Jesus, an adventure they could have scarcely imagined.

            Call and response.

           

            In addition to thinking back to my high school days, I’ve also been reflecting on the year that has just passed, preparing for our annual meeting next Sunday when we will report on the state of our church and look ahead to the future.

            When I look back on last year, I see a lot of good ministry that was done by so many people here, from the Altar Guild to the Youth Group, and everything in between.

            But it was also a year when we spent a lot of time focusing on internal stuff, replacing leaking pipes, installing one new boiler and patching together the other to (hopefully) get us through the winter, building a new bathroom, and working slowly toward the sale of 68 Storms Avenue, the former home of the Church of the Incarnation.

            This is all very important stuff that needed – and in some cases still needs – to be done, but, honestly I feel like we spent too much of the past year like Peter and Andrew and James and John at the start of today’s story.

We’ve been sitting in our boat, patching the holes and mending our nets.

            But, as always, Jesus comes along and issues his invitation and expects a response.

            Come and see.

            Follow me.

            Sometimes we say yes to that invitation, like we did on Friday night when Gail and our choir sang so beautifully at Temple Beth-El’s Martin Luther King service, where so many of our parishioners were present to stand in solidarity with our neighbors and to be inspired by a stirring call to action by Newark’s Mayor Baraka.

So, my hope for this new year is that we’ll do more of that.

            My prayer is that like those brothers long ago, we will get up and out of our boat and set off on a journey with Jesus – a journey into Jersey City and beyond, a journey to where so many people are hungry – hungry with groaning stomachs and hungry with a deep need for the Good News.

            Jesus is calling us to get out of our boat and begin a journey – an adventure that we can scarcely imagine.

            How will we respond?

            Amen.

           

            

The Story

The Church of St. Paul and Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

January 25, 2020

The Funeral of Eric Threatt

Wisdom 3:1-5, 9

Psalm 23

Revelation 7:9-17

John 14:1-6

The Story

            For many of you the story I just read may be a familiar one.

The setting is what we call the Last Supper.

            For some time, Jesus had been predicting that he would soon be handed over to the authorities. Jesus had been warning his friends that soon he would die, trying to prepare them for a shocking and devastating loss.

            But, you know how it is, right?

            It’s hard to prepare – and even harder to accept - that someone we love is going to suffer and leave us.

            And so for quite a while Jesus’ closet friends and followers couldn’t or wouldn’t hear him.

            But now gathered around the table for one final meal, the hard truth must have been sinking in.

            It would have been easy to just sit around in fear and grief

            But, instead, with time running out, Jesus the Teacher squeezes in some final, most important, lessons:

He washes the feet of his disciples and says that this is how we should serve one another.

He blesses the bread and the wine and says that he will always be present each time his friends gather around the table just like this.

And, finally, as we heard today, Jesus reassures his friends that he is going on ahead to prepare a place for them – to prepare a place for us – where someday we will all be reunited.

When Thomas speaks for the others and says they do not know the way to where Jesus is going, Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”

Jesus is the way.

Amen?

Well, we know what happened next.

All too soon after the Last Supper, Jesus was abandoned by nearly everybody and died on the cross.

 It must have looked to everybody like his story was over – just another tragedy in a world full of sorrow.

But, of course, death wasn’t the end of the story of Jesus – and after the unexpectedly empty tomb and the unimaginable joy of Easter, the disciples who had been with Jesus during his life, who had been with him at the Last Supper, they remembered what Jesus had taught them and they told the stories – they told The Story – over and over again, handing it down to us here today.

We are to serve one another.

Jesus is always with us each time we gather together.

And, Jesus is preparing a place for us so that someday we will be reunited, forever.

This is Good News – this is the best news ever.

But, this Good News does not mean that our lives will be free of trouble or sorrow – and, just like all of us, our brother Eric carried his share – maybe more than his share - of burdens.

But in good times and not so good, Eric had heard the story – Eric knew the story – and he shared the story, maybe sometimes through words, but definitely with his warm smile, with his selfless service to our country, and, maybe most of all, with his extraordinary ability to create and serve good food to hungry people gathered around the table.

And so, we have gathered here today with hearts that are somehow both broken and full.

            Our hearts are broken by the untimely death of Eric, this much-loved son, brother, and friend.

            And, our hearts are full that we had the chance to know him and to love him and to be loved by him – our hearts are full knowing that he has been freed of his burdens has returned to the loving and merciful God who dreamed him up in the first place and was with him throughout his life, in good times and not so good.

            You know, for us today is a gray, rainy Saturday in late January.

But, for Eric, for Eric, it is Easter – it is the most beautiful Easter!

            So, it’s appropriate that we while began this story at the Last Supper, we will end it at the Resurrection, when love defeats death once and for all.

So, at the end of today’s service, even in the midst of our sadness, even through our tears, we will make our song:

            Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Amen.

Invitation

The Church of St. Paul & Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

January 19, 2020

Year A: The Second Sunday after the Epiphany

Isaiah 49:1-7

Psalm 40:1-12

1 Corinthians 1:1-9

John 1:29-42

Invitation

            For many months now there has been a street preacher over at Journal Square.

            If you’ve been through there, you have certainly heard him.

            I think he’s out there most evenings, equipped with a pretty powerful sound system and a stark message of judgment: we are sinners and we are kidding ourselves if we think there won’t be a high price to pay for our wrongdoing.

            I don’t agree with much of the street preacher’s theology, but I admire his faithfulness and persistence – it’s no easy thing to stand out there day after day preaching a message that most people definitely do not want to hear. I’m sure most people try their best to ignore him, and there are probably at least a few who heckle him or make fun of him.

            His fire and brimstone preaching style is definitely not my way, but he’s in good company with lots of preachers both past and present.

And even Jesus himself, especially in the Gospel of Matthew, warns that unless we change our ways we will find ourselves in a fiery place where there is “weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

            Although like the street preacher, Jesus is willing and able to warn us about the consequences of our actions, that’s not his usual way of attracting followers and convincing people to change their ways.

            No.

            In fact, we heard Jesus’ usual way in today’s gospel lesson:

            Invitation.

            If you were here last week you may remember that we heard the story of Jesus’ baptism.

            And, in my sermon I mentioned that there is awkwardness to that story because we know that John the Baptist preached and practiced a baptism of repentance but we believe that Jesus the Son of God was without sin and therefore in no need of repentance.

            So, the four evangelists deal with this dilemma in different ways.

The Evangelist John, who we heard from today, tells the story as a memory – as a memory of John the Baptist who remembers seeing the Holy Spirit descend on Jesus and remembers God telling him that Jesus is the one who will baptize not with water but the Holy Spirit.

            So, actually, John manages to tell the story of Jesus’ baptism without actually telling the story of Jesus’ baptism.

            In the three other gospels, right after his baptism Jesus is driven into the wilderness for forty days and nights of temptation, but in John’s telling of the story, it’s now that Jesus begins to attract followers of his own.

            After hearing John the Baptist refer to Jesus as the “Lamb of God,” Andrew and another person are understandably curious and want to learn more.

            Jesus asks them, “What are you looking for?”

            And they reply, “Rabbi, where are you staying?”

            And, Jesus says, “Come and see.”

            Invitation.

            And, accepting that invitation from Jesus changed the lives of Andrew and the other disciples, and that invitation would soon transform the life of Simon Peter, and so many others, right down to us here today.

            Come and see.

            Invitation.

            And, I know that invitation works because it was an invitation just like that – an invitation I believe that was really from Jesus himself - that changed my life.

            Some of you have heard this story before – maybe more than once – (sorry!).

But more than twenty years ago now, Sue and I were living a few blocks away from here in a little house on Highland Avenue.

            Life was pretty good: I had my dream job of teaching at St. Peter’s Prep and Sue was working in Barnes and Noble’s corporate office, a job which, among other things provided us an employee discount on books!

            I still miss that.

            Anyway, at some point I realized that although I was part of a faith community through my work at Prep, church was something that Sue and I did not share together.

            So, one day I suggested to Sue that some Sunday we should try going to church together.

            She went along with this idea and that year on the First Sunday of Advent we went to a local church. I don’t want to get into details but let’s just say it was… a less than positive experience.

            Definitely not fire and brimstone, but definitely not so good.

            I remember feeling so disappointed that it hadn’t worked out and fairly sure that Sue was unlikely to say yes to church – or maybe any of my other ideas – ever again.

            Anyway, that week I told this sad but also a little bit funny story to some of my friends and colleagues in the Prep faculty room. After the shaking of heads and laughter at my probably somewhat exaggerated description, one of my colleagues, Patty Nickerson, looked at me and said with a serious tone that caught my attention, “You should come to my church sometime.”

            Come and see.

            Invitation.

            It turned out that Patty’s church was a little Episcopal church tucked away on Duncan Avenue. I think you know it.

            To my surprise, I convinced Sue to give church another shot, arguing that if nothing else we’d get to see what the inside of this interesting church looked like. And so, on the Second Sunday of Advent we showed up here and both of our lives were transformed in ways we could have hardly imagined.

            Without knowing it, like Andrew, I had been looking for where Jesus was staying.

And, I found him – and continue to find him – right here.

And, none of that would have happened if Patty Nickerson had not extended that long ago invitation.

Come and see.

I have no doubt that God can and will work with whatever we have to offer, including the street preacher’s fire and brimstone message for the rushing commuters of Journal Square.

But, in my case, and I think in our case, it’s a simple invitation that works best.

And, probably the absolute best is a one-on-one invitation like what Patty extended to me long ago.

In fact, there are quite a few of us here today because we received that kind of invitation.

Other times, that invitation comes from social media or our website or just being as welcoming as we can be when people work up the courage to step inside this beautiful old building for the first time.

We extend the invitation to see where Jesus is staying because just like Andrew and Peter and Sue and me, we know – we know – that accepting that invitation makes all the difference in the world.

Come and see.

Amen.

            

The Moment of Baptism

The Church of St. Paul & Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

January 12, 2020

Year A: The First Sunday after Epiphany – The Baptism of Our Lord

Isaiah 42:1-9

Psalm 29

Acts 10:34-43

Matthew 3:13-17

The Moment of Baptism

            If you’ve been here more than a few times you have probably heard me talk about how much I love baptizing people.

            It is just about my most favorite thing that I get to do as a priest.

            But, there’s something that I don’t think I’ve ever really talked about and that’s the moment of Baptism.

            As most of you know, our baptisms here usually take place right in the middle of the 10:00 service.

            After I’m done with my sermon, I invite the family and friends and everyone else to join us in the back of the church, gathering around the font.

            Gail provides a little musical cover for what is typically a kind of chaotic scene as the family of the person (usually a child) to be baptized aren’t always sure about what’s happening and what’s the right thing to do, and other people have to decide if they’re going to make the move or just stay put

            But, somehow we all get where we’re going, though before I continue the service I always have to make sure that the soon to be baptized person and the parents and godparents haven’t gotten lost in the crowd.

            We try to perform baptisms, like we try to do everything else in this sacred place, with solemnity and dignity, but the truth is it can get a little messy as people try to find their place in the bulletin, people in the back strain to see and hear, and of course lots of people jockey for the best position, trying to capture the whole thing using their cellphone cameras, meanwhile missing out on the actual experience.

            But, no matter how chaotic and confusing, there is always the moment of Baptism.

             It doesn’t matter if the child sleeps through the whole thing or screams her head off, it doesn’t matter if the adult seems a little embarrassed or is moved to tears, no matter if this place is packed or there’s just a few of us, in the moment of baptism I can see or feel something happen between God and the baptized:

God makes an unbreakable, indissoluble bond.

God says, you are loved, you are mine forever.

God encourages, live your life knowing that I will never let go of you.

It’s all very amazing.

And, part of what makes baptism amazing is that this is an experience that we share with Jesus himself.

All four gospels tell the story of Jesus’ baptism, though they tell it in somewhat different ways.

And, right up front, we have to acknowledge that there is awkwardness to the fact that Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist.

It’s a little awkward because we know that John preached a baptism of repentance but we believe that Jesus the Son of God was without sin, so there was no need for repentance.

Today we heard the account of Jesus’ baptism that’s in the Gospel of Matthew.

And, if you notice, Matthew tells us that John recognizes that Jesus is his superior. John acknowledges the awkwardness of the scene. John tries to “prevent” Jesus from presenting himself for baptism, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”

And Jesus responds in a way that’s a little hard for us to understand, saying:

“Let it be so now, for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.”

This baptism isn’t about repentance but yet it seems that in some way Jesus needed to be baptized.

And, maybe, God needed Jesus to be baptized.

God and Jesus needed that moment of baptism, when all the distractions of the world faded into the background, when all the noise of the world grew silent, that moment when God was able to speak loud and clear:

“This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I well pleased.”

If he didn’t know before, now in the moment of baptism, Jesus knows who he is and whose he is.

Which is a very good thing, because three of the four gospels tell us that immediately after his baptism, Jesus is alone in the wilderness for forty days – or, actually, not quite alone because the devil is there tempting him.

But, Jesus is able to withstand those temptations, is able to endure hunger and thirst, able to stay strong in times of trouble, because of that moment of baptism.

Now, you and I may not spend days and nights alone in the wilderness, but it sure feels that way sometimes, doesn’t it?

It feels like we’re in the wilderness when we’re burdened by trouble and fear and grief, when we’re tempted to do what we know what’s not right, when the very foundations of our life and our world prove to be not as solid as we had thought.

But, like Jesus, we are able to withstand, able to endure, able to stay strong, because of that moment of baptism.

The only problem is that, unlike Jesus, most of us were baptized as babies.

That doesn’t make our baptism any less real, doesn’t make the moment of baptism any less important, but it does mean that we need to be reminded.

I was baptized downtown at St. Boniface Church which today is condos, so I guess the place of my baptism is now in someone’s apartment, but I can be reminded of my baptism every time I walk in here and see the font, every time we make our way in a chaotic procession to the rear of the church, every time we hear and see the moment of baptism.

Just as in the River Jordan long ago…

God makes unbreakable, indissoluble bond with us.

God says to us, you are loved, you are mine forever.

And, God encourages us, live your life knowing that I will never let go of you.

The moment of baptism.

Amen.