Our Homeroom

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

July 31, 2022

Year C, Proper 13: The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

Hosea 11:1-11

Psalm 107:1-9, 43

Colossians 3:1-11

Luke 12:13-21

Our Homeroom

Most of you know that before I was a priest I was a high school history teacher.

It was a life that I enjoyed and still miss, even after being out of the classroom for nearly twenty years now – which is unbelievable to me.

There was a lot about teaching high school that I liked – the joy of watching young people learn and grow, the pleasure of working beside generous and supportive colleagues – many of whom were also my friends, and the satisfaction of working at schools with a clear sense of identity and mission.

Oh, and I especially liked having a homeroom.

Maybe that last one is a surprise to some of you.

The truth is that for some teachers, homeroom is a chore – it’s a loosely structured time, often right at the start of the day when attendance and other school business has to be taken care of – a time when teachers may be wishing they had that second or third cup of coffee - a time when antsy students may act out – a time when groggy students may take a last minute snooze.

But, I usually liked having a homeroom. 

I always tried to build a homeroom community – often by competing with other homerooms in different school fundraisers (there’s my competitive streak again!) and by creating a relaxed and safe space, a little oasis from the very real pressures of a high school student’s life.

In maybe a weird way, homeroom is one of the reasons that I eventually left teaching to become a priest.

Because, here’s the thing: for an entire school year the students and I built our homeroom community together but then it would be June and it would be finished. Our little community would be disbanded, and I’d have to start all over in September.

So, I was drawn to church work because here we can build community together over the long haul – Sunday after Sunday - baptisms, weddings, funerals - creating deep relationships that span years and sometimes many decades.

You’ve probably never thought of it quite this way, but St. Thomas’ is our homeroom.

Well, today’s lesson from the Gospel of Luke begins with an unnamed person asking Jesus – or, actually it sounds more like ordering Jesus! – to get involved in a family dispute. He says,

“Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.”

This sort of family squabble over money is an old and familiar story. One person in our Wednesday Bible Study noted that it reminded her of the divisions in the Angelos family right now, disagreements playing out on the front pages of The Sun.

Anyway, Jesus does not take the bait and wisely declines to get involved in this family dispute.

However, Jesus does pass some judgment. He suggests that perhaps one or both of the brothers are making a big mistake.

Jesus says, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.”

And then, in his usual way, Jesus takes advantage of this moment to do some teaching.

Jesus tells what’s often called the Parable of the Rich Fool – a tale of a man who has had great success, his lands producing so much abundance.

But success can create its own challenges.

In this case, the man has to figure out what to do with all of his abundance.

Now, I’m sure that we can all think of some possibilities.

Maybe he could put away enough for himself, sure, and then share what’s left with his family, friends, and neighbors.

Maybe he could share his overflowing abundance with the hungry poor who, then as now, were all around.

Of course, right?

But, instead, the man chooses to tear down his old barns and raise new and bigger barns so he can save it all for himself – and then he says to himself – he says to his “soul,” “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink and be merry.”

Well, even if we were not familiar with this story, we would know where it’s going, right? We would know because probably all of us have been there, one way or another.

We’ve all thought that once I have that job, that house, that relationship – once I have “that much money” – once I win the Mega Millions Lottery – then – then - I’ll be all set and finally I can stop worrying, kick back and enjoy life.

But then, inevitably, along comes the unexpected – here comes fate – here is the unpredictability of life and death.

To the rich man with his plans for bigger barns, God says, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?”

And then Jesus concludes by saying, “So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”

As I’ve reflected on this story, I’ve been struck by the aloneness of the rich man. He has no one to talk to but himself. One of our Bible Study members compared him to Charles Foster Kane at the end of the film Citizen Kane, surrounded by mountains of stuff in his mansion, but all alone.

We don’t know why the rich man is alone – maybe everyone he’s cared about has moved away or died. Or maybe, because of his focus on material wealth he’s managed to alienate just about everybody. Or maybe he lived his life convinced that he didn’t need anyone else – that he was perfectly content to eat, drink, and be merry all by himself.

Whatever the reason, it’s a hard way to go through life.

So, aren’t you glad that we have our “homeroom” here at St. Thomas’?

Our church really feels like a homeroom when we get together for fun like we did on Sunday night for pizza and some friendly – not competitive at all, really – games of Bingo.

Our church really feels like a homeroom when we share our overflowing abundance – when we’re rich toward God – like what we’re doing with our “Bottoms Up” effort – as boxes of diapers are piling up the Parish Hall - or as we’re about to do when our first Afghan guests arrive.

Our church really feels like a homeroom when we reach out to our “classmates” who are struggling – weighed down by illness, worry, or sadness – letting them know that we care about them, that we love them, that we’re here for them.

Finally, as I’ve been thinking about the rich man in today’s parable, I’ve wondered about the people just like him who are all around us.

I’m not a golfer, but early on in my time here, one of our parishioners told me, “There are a lot of lonely men on the golf course.”

And, you know, I can’t help noticing that there are still plenty of empty seats here in our church, here in our homeroom.

So, let’s share our abundance  - let’s be rich toward God by reaching out to the people out there who may have lots of stuff but have no one to talk to.

Let’s invite them here – let’s welcome them here – here where, with God’s help, we build community over the long haul - here in our homeroom.

Amen.

"Remember to Pray"

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

July 24, 2022

Year C, Proper 12: 

Hosea 1:2-10

Psalm 85

Colossians 2:6-15

Luke 11:1-13

“Remember to Pray”

Well, it’s good to be back here with all of you.

Although I missed you – and missed the chance to preach on the Good Samaritan and Mary and Martha – it was a restful break, a time to catch my breath after an amazing, but very full, first year at St. Thomas’.

For me, one of the gifts of some time off is that I can just go to church!

I can be a person in the pew, anonymous, and with no worries about what I have to say or do, no concerns about how the message of the day is being received.

It’s nice.

Last Sunday morning, sitting in the early service at one of our neighboring churches, just kind of taking it all in, I was suddenly reminded of when I was in seminary, just starting out on the road that would eventually lead me here.

As part of the preparation for ordination, future priests spend time – usually two years – working in a parish, doing what’s called “field education.”

It’s at our field education parish that we sort of try on the role of clergy. Unlike in our seminary classes, in the parish we’re expected to learn by doing: leading worship, visiting the sick, and, of course, attending various meetings.

I’m not sure why, but I was given total freedom in choosing my field ed. parish.

It might have been wiser to choose a church in a setting very different from what I knew in Jersey City (you know, maybe a church somewhere out in the country, maybe even with fields of hay nearby).

But instead I chose a church not so different from what I already knew – a church in the city of Newark, a church with an evocative name:

House of Prayer.

House of Prayer gets its beautiful name from a verse from the Prophet Isaiah. 

Through Isaiah, God reveals a powerful vision of a future day when the whole world will gather at the Temple on Mount Zion, singing and making sacrifices. And God declares, “my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.”

When House of Prayer was founded in Newark back in the 1800s, I’m sure it was surrounded by very pleasant land. Who knows, maybe there were even hayfields nearby. But, over time the city grew up around the church. There’s a busy railroad station a block or two away. And then, back in the 1960s an elevated interstate highway was built just a few feet away from the church – think Jones Falls Expressway – slicing the city in half.

At House of Prayer, the din and rumble and fumes of traffic are always present.

Yet, this scrappy little church, with little money in the bank and a shoestring budget has persisted in sharing the Good News, and serving the community with after-school programs and feeding ministries.

It is a pretty amazing place.

So, I learned a lot from the beautiful and faithful people at House of Prayer.

During the Sunday services, when it was time for the Prayers of the People, the whole congregation would stand and hold hands, forming a large circle around the sanctuary. And rather than offering scripted prayers, everyone was invited to pray however they wanted, either silently or aloud. As you might guess, sometimes this took a while, as people lifted up all sorts of concerns for themselves and for their families and communities, and as they gave thanks for many blessings, both large and small.

It was an incredibly powerful – prayerful - experience.

I also learned a lot from my supervisor, The Rev. Judy Baldwin, who was then the Priest-in Charge of House of Prayer.

In addition to being a priest, Judy is also a therapist – definitely a handy combination, especially for someone like me who was then in the midst of a major life transformation.

As part of my field education, Judy gradually allowed me to do more during the Sunday services, giving me a taste of what presiding and preaching all the time would be like.

And, frankly, I had some concerns.

I worried if saying the same words and making the same gestures week after week would become routine, even boring – you know, just a job.

I wondered what would happen to my spiritual life once church became my work.

I told Judy what I was worried about and here’s what she said:

“Remember to pray. Especially when you’re standing at the altar, remember to pray.”

Now, I can’t say that I’ve remembered that each Sunday. I’m sorry to say that sometimes I do just focus on the words and the choreography. But, there have been many times when I’ve stood over there and stretched out my arms and I’ve heard Judy’s wisdom:

“Remember to pray.”

Well, we can be sure that Jesus remembered to pray.

The gospels depict Jesus as a person of prayer.

Jesus often stepped away from the crowds and sometimes from his own disciples, to spend time alone in prayer, keeping close to his Father.

In today’s gospel lesson, Luke begins by telling us that Jesus was “praying in a certain place.” It’s not clear if Jesus was hoping for some alone time with the Father or if he was praying with his disciples, but in any case one disciple interrupts, requesting that Jesus teach them how to pray.

And Jesus responds with what has come to be known as the Lord’s Prayer (or what Roman Catholics call the “Our Father”).

Of course, this has long been the most familiar of all Christian prayers, although Luke’s version is a little more barebones than what we find in the Gospel of Matthew.

The familiarity of the prayer may prevent us – or, may prevent me, at least – from actually hearing the words and reflecting on their meaning.

So, for the past week of staycation, while welcoming friends who came to visit our beautiful new home, and while reading for pleasure and, yes, occasionally napping, I’ve been trying to pray Jesus’ words more mindfully, remembering to pray.

And the phrase that has been most sticking with me is, “Your kingdom come.”

God has a kingdom and I think that we can all agree that what we see around us today is most definitely not it.

Back in the 8th Century BC, the Prophet Hosea also lived during a time when people turned away from God, choosing to worship other gods.

As we heard in today’s first lesson, Hosea used some rather colorful language to call out the people for their unfaithfulness – but even this sometimes harsh prophet insisted that God will not give up on us – that we will be known as “children of the living God.”

So, today in our time of much trouble, it would be oh so easy to slip into despair or even to just give up.

But, that’s not God’s way – that’s not the way of Christ.

Over the past year, you’ve probably noticed that I like when the church does a lot of stuff.

I believe that an active church is a healthy church.

And there is so much work to be done.

But for God to bless our work – for our work to bear fruit, we must pray – in whatever way that works best for us – we must pray faithfully and persistently.

  Our church must be a house of prayer.

Now, I’m not going to ask us to form a circle and hold hands.

Or am I?

No, I’m not. 

        But in our time of trouble we can still pray like we’ve never prayed before – praying from our hearts that God’s kingdom will really come.

Let us pray that God will use us to help heal our broken world, just like God uses a scrappy little church under the shadow of an interstate highway. 

Remember to pray.

Amen.

A Fragrant Offering of Peace

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

July 3, 2022

Year C, Proper 9: The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

2 Kings 5:1-14

Psalm 30

Galatians 6:1-16

Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

A Fragrant Offering of Peace

It’s hard to believe, but Sue and I have been here with you for almost a year now. And, while I still have a long way to go, in that time I’ve learned a lot about this place and its people and its history.

I’ve memorized many names, and I’m working on those I still don’t know yet!

While I still rely on my GPS quite a bit, at least I know my way around Owings Mills, mostly.

Over the past year, I’ve tried to stay mindful of just how blessed I am to be here. I’ve tried to keep on seeing how beautiful this place is. But, the truth is, I’ve sort of gotten used to it – with one big exception.

Are you aware that this place smells really good?

Over at the rectory where we are surrounded by grasses and trees and flowering plants, it smells really good each time I step outside the door, especially when the mowers have been by and the fresh-cut grass smells like… life.

And, as you may know, the church rents out some of our land – including the plot beside the rectory – to a farmer who grows hay.

I didn’t much notice that the his crop was growing, but couple of weeks ago the farmer came by to harvest and bale the hay – you can still see the large round bales along the edge of the field.

I’m sure this is old news to all of you, but this city boy just doesn’t have the vocabulary to describe how good the harvest smelled.  

I hope I never get used to it.

While these beautiful smells occur naturally, human beings love being inventive and creative – so we spend a lot of time and effort and money to come up with our own fragrances.

I guess about ten years ago now, a couple came to see me in my office in Jersey City to talk about getting married.

They weren’t parishioners. They reached out to me because the bride and I had served together on a committee a few years earlier. 

As always when I first meet with a couple, we spent our first session getting to know each other. I asked about their families and their work lives, how they met, what they love about each other, and why they wanted to take the big step of getting married.

Since over the years I’ve had a lot of these conversations, the details of this particular meeting have almost entirely faded, except for this:

When the bride talked about her family, she mentioned that her father was a chemist – but not just any chemist – he was a chemist who designed perfumes – fragrances. And, although his name was not well known, he had created scents that are famous and quite lucrative.

I love learning about unusual occupations like that, so I probably spent too much time asking too many questions about what goes into creating a successful fragrance, until I finally cleared my throat and said something like, “So, about your wedding…”

After our meeting was over, I saw them out and then returned to my office.

And it was only then that I smelled just a lingering hint of the fragrance that the woman had been wearing.

Later, at the rehearsal dinner, I spoke with her father the perfumer and told him that story – how I had not noticed the scent while we were together – how it wasn’t anything overpowering like we sometimes encounter – just a subtle but lasting scent.

And in reply, he gave me a slight smile that looked to me like the satisfaction of a job well done.

There are natural fragrances and artificial fragrances – and there are also spiritual fragrances.

In today’s lesson from the Gospel of Luke, we pick up right where we left off last week.

Jesus and his disciples continue on the way to Jerusalem and all that awaits them there.

As we heard last week, they first passed through Samaria where in at least one village the welcome was not so enthusiastic, which made the disciples James and John so angry that they wanted to call down fire and destruction.

And now today, despite that inauspicious start, Jesus sends out seventy of his disciples – sends them out in pairs as a kind of advance team for Jesus himself.

Jesus acknowledges that this work – this “harvest”  - is dangerous. The disciples are being sent “like lambs into the midst of wolves.”

And even when it’s not dangerous, the disciples should expect to be rejected.

Jesus says, “Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house! And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person.”

I love that – I love the sense that there is nothing trite or abstract about “Peace.”

“Peace” is not just a nice feeling – not just the absence of conflict.

For Jesus, peace a sense of wholeness and wellbeing.     

Peace is something that we can actually give to others – that we can share with others.

And as I’ve imagined the sharing of peace, peace “resting” on others, I’ve imagined it like an invisible but perceptible aroma – like the perfume worn by the bride in my office – like the smell of freshly harvested hay – smells that don’t overpower but simply give a sense of beauty and, most of all, peace.

And just in case you think all of this fresh country air has gone to my head, I’ll just note that the author of the Letter to the Ephesians describes Jesus himself as “a fragrant offering,” and in his Second Letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes that we are to be the “aroma of Christ.”

So, I’m in good company.

But, just how are we to be the “aroma of Christ” – how can we be a fragrant offering of peace – especially in our often dangerous world, where so many places don’t smell good at all - where the stink of hatred and suffering and greed and death is all around?

Well, back in the last century, the pastor and social activist A.J. Muste wrote, “There is no way to peace; peace is the way.”

“There is no way to peace; peace is the way.”

And, Thich Nhat Hanh the great Vietnamese Buddhist monk and spiritual teacher wrote, “Peace is present here and now, in ourselves and in everything we do and see. Every breath we take, every step we take, can be filled with peace, joy, and serenity. The question is whether or not we are in touch with it. We need only to be awake, alive in the present moment.”

Well, the seventy disciples seem to have had a very successful mission. They returned to Jesus overjoyed – and maybe surprised and relieved. They couldn’t wait to tell him all that they had seen and done.

And maybe the seventy were successful because when they showed up at the doorsteps, there was no stench of greed or judgment, just simply the fragrant offering of peace – invisible but very real.

So, here in this beautiful and sweet-smelling place, our task, with God’s help, is to follow the way of peace – to go in peace when we’re here in church – to go in peace when we’re at home or at work or in the supermarket – to go in peace when, God help us, we’re driving - to go in peace when we’re alone or when we’re online or when we’re watching the news – to go in peace with every step we take.

With God’s help, as we begin our second year together, may we, the people of St. Thomas,’ be a fragrant offering of peace. 

Amen.