tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-95847082024-03-28T17:28:42.730-04:00Mostly SermonsA Blog of Sermons and Writings by Tom MurphyTom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comBlogger924125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-9224069247712096332024-03-28T17:27:00.002-04:002024-03-28T17:27:41.251-04:00Pouring Out Lessons<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkNsLJJJodl_3uBTqT8wdDqJLIWRMvuoOWRtg7jCwGb-kXfyLewbVN-i-SqKzR6LDEc0mS7u29TE2t7VUSq5v8YpzZdm57ce7JvA5Xrigetw7VUTmaYv_RUnrxZMHuB94PmlkaeLO8Q_DH92fR3gJJfoOn6VpKLKrcGjyVHhmz7myJOD2W2iIV/s4032/IMG_1928%20(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkNsLJJJodl_3uBTqT8wdDqJLIWRMvuoOWRtg7jCwGb-kXfyLewbVN-i-SqKzR6LDEc0mS7u29TE2t7VUSq5v8YpzZdm57ce7JvA5Xrigetw7VUTmaYv_RUnrxZMHuB94PmlkaeLO8Q_DH92fR3gJJfoOn6VpKLKrcGjyVHhmz7myJOD2W2iIV/w400-h300/IMG_1928%20(1).jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">March 28, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Maundy Thursday</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Exodus 12:1-14</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 116:1, 10-17</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 Corinthians 11:23-26</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">John 13:1-17, 31b-35</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Pouring Out Lessons</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This past Sunday was the most unsettling day of the Christian Year.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In fact, it’s such an unsettling day that we can’t even decide on one name for it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s officially called “The Sunday of the Passion – Palm Sunday.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At 10:00, we began out in the parking lot with the Palm Procession, remembering and, sort of, reenacting King Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, when he was greeted with palms and shouts of “Hosanna,” which means, “Lord, save us.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Lord, save us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But once we got into the church, the mood turned fast, as we quickly, jarringly, jumped ahead from the palms to the Passion.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It turned out that Jesus wasn’t the kind of King that anyone expected or seemed to want. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Since he wasn’t a mighty warrior like King David, since he wasn’t going to expel the Roman occupiers and restore Israel’s earthly glory, the people turned against him and the Romans brutally killed him as they killed so many other rebels and would-be kings.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On Sunday, before we knew it, we were shouting along with the ancient crowd, “Crucify him!”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Before we knew it, we were at the foot of the Cross, as Jesus poured out himself: his blood, his love, his life, even his hope.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Emptiness.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Or so it seemed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And now here, this evening, we back up a day.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We’re still in Jerusalem and the “Hosannas” from the Palm Parade must have still been echoing in Jesus’ ears and in the ears of his disciples, his friends.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s hard to know if the disciples really got swept up in all the excitement.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Did they remember that Jesus had been predicting for some time that he would be rejected and killed – and that he would rise again on the third day?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>How much of that could the notoriously clueless disciples really grasp and truly accept?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I don’t know.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I do know that it’s hard – so very hard – to face that someone we love is going to suffer and die.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But now, during that long ago evening in Jerusalem, as Jesus and his friends gathered around the table for one last meal, the hard truth must have been sinking in.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so, with time running out, Jesus the Great Teacher offers some final, most important lessons.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Pouring out lessons.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus blesses the bread and the wine and shares it with his friends, saying this is his Body and Blood, poured out for them – poured out for us - his Body and Blood poured into our hearts, each time we gather around the Table and remember him.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And to the shock and dismay of Peter and probably the others, too, Jesus gets up from the table, pours water into a basin and begins washing his disciples’ feet, yes, including even Judas, who is about to betray him.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus, pouring out himself in loving and lowly service.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And Jesus commands his friends – it’s the “mandate” that gives Maundy Thursday its name – Jesus commands us that if we wish to follow Jesus we must wash feet, too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We must pour out our lives in loving and lowly service.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We must love one another as Jesus has loved us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Pouring out lessons.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In a few minutes, we will gather at the Table with Jesus and with one another for the final time until Easter morning.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And at the conclusion of tonight’s service, we will clear away all of the holy objects.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> “Stripping the altar” it’s called, preparing for the humiliation and suffering and death that Jesus will face tomorrow, on Good Friday.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And we will bring the Body and Blood of Christ to our beautiful little “Altar of Repose,” echoing Jesus’ night in the Garden of Gethsemane, a night of agonizing prayer and preparation.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>By then, there really won’t be anything left to say, so we’ll depart in silence, prepared as best we can be for tomorrow, for the hardest day of the Church Year.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Tomorrow, Jesus will give away himself on the Cross: pouring out his blood, his love, his life, even his hope.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Poured out until nothing was left, nothing but emptiness.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Or so it will seem.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Because, even on the hard days,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Especially on the hardest days:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God is never empty.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God is always full of life and love.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Life and love, poured out, in and through Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Life and love, shared with us.</span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-1299629787686488772024-03-24T05:13:00.001-04:002024-03-24T06:29:50.407-04:00Life and Love, Shared With Us<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ZT0-_jbSgssrqRDWclOHfPqdrdI06hkJ821783aUXBBM6aOJ8sFE0eaQTyc9BPSS13Rq_GgX8lqoS9gcvISqkuYn-_fxde2VIvhqRbWQcClBi8pLPO_84I43emKIlEqJa3JtHMGQYLPLKrDk_3qWi3_zc-X0aGjLVHRxEBFlRvThIKmQQzC-/s960/339404087_249872997463903_6952799059341619581_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ZT0-_jbSgssrqRDWclOHfPqdrdI06hkJ821783aUXBBM6aOJ8sFE0eaQTyc9BPSS13Rq_GgX8lqoS9gcvISqkuYn-_fxde2VIvhqRbWQcClBi8pLPO_84I43emKIlEqJa3JtHMGQYLPLKrDk_3qWi3_zc-X0aGjLVHRxEBFlRvThIKmQQzC-/w400-h300/339404087_249872997463903_6952799059341619581_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">March 24, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The Sunday of the Passion – Palm Sunday</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Mark 11:1-11</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Isaiah 50:4-9a</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 31:9-16</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Philippians 2:5-11</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Mark 15:1-39</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Life and Love, Shared With Us</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Today is the most unsettling day of the Christian Year.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On this day, we begin with what’s usually called Jesus’ “triumphant” entry into Jerusalem.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At last, the long-awaited King has entered his capital city!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And at first glance, his entry does seem triumphant.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There are crowds along the way, laying their cloaks and their palms before the King.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They shout “Hosanna!” which means “Lord, save us!”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Lord, save us!”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They shout “Hosanna!” because at least some of them think that, finally, God has sent a King like David, a military leader who will expel the Roman occupiers and restore Israel’s independence, renew its glory.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At first glance, the entry of King Jesus into Jerusalem does indeed seem triumphant.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But perhaps careful observers noticed that this might not be such a triumphant entry after all.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Where was the military escort?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Where were the dignitaries gathered to welcome the King, to pay him homage?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And why was this King riding a donkey?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I mean, every other new King – most every other new leader, even today – is all about gathering and accumulating – gathering supporters, followers, power –accumulating money, weapons, loyalty – gathering and accumulating as many and as much as possible to intimidate opponents and cement dominance.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But this King Jesus does just the opposite.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This King is just the opposite.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Oh, it’s true, he attracted some followers – an unimpressive group overall, and most will run away from him at the first sign of trouble.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No, as King Jesus enters his capital city, he’s not set on gathering and accumulating – he’s there to love and to serve, to give himself away.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Emptying himself.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was just before Passover, so Jerusalem was teeming with pilgrims, its population probably swelled by around three times its normal size.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was a festive time and it was also a tense time.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Roman occupiers were on the lookout for any signs of protest or rebellion – any hint of trouble that they would swiftly crush with brutality and efficiency, with nails and wood.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And the Jewish leaders were desperate to keep the peace, to prevent anyone from sparking a devastating conflict with the Romans.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, even without a military escort, and even with the donkey, powerful people were probably aware that some people were hailing a teacher and healer from Nazareth of all places as King of Israel.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so, soon enough, the machinery of the state swung into action, sealing the fate of King Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The people, as always, wanted to back a winner and, well, Jesus must have looked like the biggest loser in town.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So the emptying of Jesus continued – no more palm-waving crowds, few if any followers or friends, expectation and excitement replaced by rejection and mockery.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And a final emptying on the Cross – the emptying of blood, and life, and even, it would seem, the emptying of hope.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Emptying himself.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On this unsettling day we remember an unsettling time in Jerusalem, two thousand years ago.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>What began full of hope and promise – what began with palms and hosannas, ends with suffering, disappointment, and death.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Emptiness.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Or, so it seemed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If Jesus is who we say he is, then back in Jerusalem two thousand years ago, God personally experienced rejection and pain and even death – emptiness.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, at the same time, God is never empty.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God is always full of life and love.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sometimes – often - it feels like winter will last forever.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Like death gets the last word.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Like all hope is lost.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But it’s not true.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Spring arrives.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God is never empty.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God is always full of life and love.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Later, later, the first Christians saw this, they understood this – they even sang about Christ Jesus, this King who loved and served, who emptied himself – emptied himself on the Cross – this King who was gloriously replenished – exalted - by God on the third day.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But that’s for next week.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For now, we remain at the foot of the Cross.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And on this most unsettling day in our most unsettling world, we may be feeling quite empty.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But just wait.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Because:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God is never empty.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God is always full of life and love.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Life and love, shared with and through Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Life and love, shared with us.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-40574364186723912722024-03-17T13:21:00.002-04:002024-03-17T13:21:18.647-04:00"We Wish To See Jesus"<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix_Aw6pr0UFeNf2zWNALwTlK0-zq2wgJEMXx4gQdrc4CvD5LrRUG0Lt_PeTb_CS8mIvKpIHT-zp_a9tG-GbTh_uC_4UU_XpujrWTDtu8Sp3GZquhfjpv3wXDwPVRoSMmOdhZAzVdLe4ZNhA1q9BIylkBZyAQdzAg0Q84ILfqDtGFLjmzkYbPvZ/s4032/IMG_0899.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix_Aw6pr0UFeNf2zWNALwTlK0-zq2wgJEMXx4gQdrc4CvD5LrRUG0Lt_PeTb_CS8mIvKpIHT-zp_a9tG-GbTh_uC_4UU_XpujrWTDtu8Sp3GZquhfjpv3wXDwPVRoSMmOdhZAzVdLe4ZNhA1q9BIylkBZyAQdzAg0Q84ILfqDtGFLjmzkYbPvZ/w400-h300/IMG_0899.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">March 17, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The Fifth Sunday in Lent</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Jeremiah 31:31-34</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 51:1-13</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Hebrews 5:5-10</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">John 12:20-33</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">“We Wish To See Jesus”</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Back in Jersey City, I used to participate in Lenten services sponsored by the Liturgical Churches Union – an organization of predominately Black churches, mostly representing different branches of the Methodist tradition.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Not being Black, and also not being Methodist, I did sometimes feel a little like the “odd man out” but it’s valuable and instructive for those of us who are usually in the majority to be perhaps a little uncomfortable, to get a taste of what it’s like to be in the minority.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That said, the other clergy and their church members were always very welcoming, always glad that my parishioners and I were there.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Lenten services were one night a week, held at different participating churches.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Each week, one of us ministers would preach, always accompanied by our choir.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So my parishioners and I got to hear different preaching styles and we got to enjoy some really excellent choirs.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And the pastors and people from the other churches got to hear our wonderful choir – and they got to hear me preach.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Now, I’ve been at this long enough to have settled on my preaching style.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You’ve probably noticed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, at these Lenten services, I didn’t pretend to be someone I’m not – but I did have to lengthen my sermons, a bit.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If you’ve timed me, you know that I tend to preach around twelve minutes.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, at the twelve-minute mark, my fellow pastors would really just be getting started!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Anyway, it really was great to hear the preaching and the various choirs.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And it was a blessing to make friends among the Black clergy in town.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And it was also fascinating to get inside all of these different churches, to see the architecture and art, to preach from unfamiliar pulpits.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One of the churches was the Metropolitan AME Zion Church, where Martin Luther King Jr. spoke, about a week before he was assassinated.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There’s a sign in Metropolitan’s pulpit, visible only to the preacher. It must have been visible to Dr. King.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The sign reads: “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We wish to see Jesus.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>What a powerful reminder to every preacher that the people before us have not gathered to hear how clever or funny or intelligent or fiery or brief or long-winded we are.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No, all of us, people and pastors, all of us come here, week after week, because we wish to see Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In today’s gospel lesson, we briefly encounter a group of people – we’re told they are Greeks – who wish to see Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The setting is Jerusalem, near the time of the Passover.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We’ll mark Palm Sunday next week but in this passage, Jesus has already arrived in the capital city, has already paraded on a donkey through the streets as people lay palms and cloaks along his way.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, it’s no surprise that a group of out of town visitors would want to see Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They had probably already heard of him and they surely were aware of the palm parade.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We’re not told if these Greeks ever did get to see Jesus, they are not mentioned again.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, in his words that follow, Jesus shows himself - reveals himself and his mission for all to see.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus will be glorified not by the Palm Parade, not by taking his seat on a throne in a palace.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No, Jesus will be glorified by giving away his life on the cross.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus will be the seed that dies so new life can take root – so new life can take root for him and for us all.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And when we see Jesus, Jesus always calls us to follow him – to follow him by giving away our lives in loving service, by striving to love everyone, especially the people we don’t like or trust, the people we find so hard to love.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We wish to see Jesus.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One of the ironies of being a priest is that I spend a good bit of time encouraging people to stay in the moment, to look for how God might be at work, right here and right now.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Unfortunately, the nature of my job makes this particularly difficult for me.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, I’m trying – I’m really trying – to be right here and right now with you on the Fifth Sunday in Lent. But not very far in the back of my mind, I’m thinking about Palm Sunday – will the palms arrive in time – will the weather allow us to have our little palm parade? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> I’m thinking about Holy Week – will all those bulletins get edited and printed – will the copier fail us in our moment of greatest need - and will I find the right words in all those sermons – sermons that will hopefully help people to see Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, of course, I’m thinking about Easter Day – the biggest day of the church year.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Hopefully, on Easter morning we will welcome lots of people, many of whom haven’t been here since Christmas, or maybe last Easter, or perhaps even longer than that.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Now it might be tempting to make wisecracks – “Don’t forget we’re here every Sunday!” or “Hey stranger, how’ve you been?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We won’t do that, of course.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We should and will be thankful and joyful to see everybody, all of these people who will be here for all kinds of reasons.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For some, it’s simply tradition.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s Easter and we go to church.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For others, they may want to see and hear beauty – the gorgeous flowers, the glorious music, the stylish hats and outfits.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For some, maybe it’s a way to keep mom or grandma happy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“All right, I’ll go to church.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, I think, deep down inside, these people will be here for the same ultimate reason that we come here all the time.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In a world that seems to be obsessed with hate and violence and division, in a time when so many are tempted to follow the way of death, in a place where our lives are often consumed by work and family responsibilities and holding on to what we’ve got and fears about the future, in a time and place such as this, people may not even know it, or won’t even admit it, but they wish to see Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We wish to see Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so, on Easter and all the time, our job – our privilege – is to show them – to show one another - Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>May they see Jesus in this community of people from different places and with lots of different viewpoints, who transcend our differences with love and service.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>May they see Jesus in this servant church, where we give not just from what’s left over after our needs are met but we give in ways that really cost us – really take some of our valuable time, talent, and treasure.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>May they see Jesus in God’s Word and most of all in the in the Bread and the Wine.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, God willing, may they even see Jesus in the sermon, in twelve minutes or less.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The people – the people out there – the people wish to see Jesus – they need to see Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, with God’s help, on Easter and always, let’s show them Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-31655001966463667322024-03-10T05:36:00.004-04:002024-03-10T13:04:23.006-04:00Look and Live!<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1M1vIQclxsBsHt1nqpXqTP95dfnaIsuYoue7NWIblqw7lvgPxZbSydmusbfJfarr8IF0EBzc5JjuTW0pLE1_IXBGgorGSRNfm0kdovAHHlquGUzJaDENgn1crJgiS3qySCaEbtTH3Aoxobrj-4SfVCfJ0nC3ag7pCRWE90uZXebO3DqkhYu38/s4032/IMG_0892.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1M1vIQclxsBsHt1nqpXqTP95dfnaIsuYoue7NWIblqw7lvgPxZbSydmusbfJfarr8IF0EBzc5JjuTW0pLE1_IXBGgorGSRNfm0kdovAHHlquGUzJaDENgn1crJgiS3qySCaEbtTH3Aoxobrj-4SfVCfJ0nC3ag7pCRWE90uZXebO3DqkhYu38/w400-h300/IMG_0892.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Look and Live!</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">March 10, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The Fourth Sunday in Lent</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Numbers 21:4-9</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Ephesians 2:1-10</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">John 3:14-21</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I hope you know that I could stand up here all day and talk about the many blessings of serving as the Rector of this church.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, don’t worry. Since we don’t have all day, I’ll just mention that Sue and I feel very fortunate to live in the beautiful rectory that you have provided for us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Frankly, it seems a bit much, but we’ll take it!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">`<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That said, I do miss being able to just walk out my door and take a walk. It took a while for me to get used to there not being a sidewalk, that I can only walk as far as the end of the driveway.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Actually, that’s not totally true.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our sexton Ricky Sigai maintains a mown path through the wide field between the rectory and the western edge of the cemetery.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One morning not long after we had moved in, I decided to walk that path to work.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I wore my sneakers and placed my dress shoes in a bag, and made my way through the field – a really beautiful trip of about a third of a mile.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Me being me, I stopped a couple of times to take pictures of our campus from this new-to-me vantage point.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Anyway, it was a very pleasant and uneventful walk – and I remember thinking that I might do this on days when the weather was good and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t need my car.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Later that morning, maybe because I felt a little proud of myself, I told this story to the “crafty” members of what’s now called the “Thursday Morning Group.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And one of them said, “You better watch out for snakes.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>What???</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She said, there are probably a lot of snakes out in that field.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Now, because I looked it up, I know that there are only two species of poisonous snakes in Maryland, that most snakes are perfectly harmless, but I have to say that this little piece of information changed my view of my pleasant walk through the field.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’ve taken that trip a few more times but always stepping gingerly, always looking out for any slithering and hissing surprises.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In the ancient world, people feared snakes and also respected them.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They were sometimes seen as symbols of healing and fertility.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, fairly or not, in the Bible, the snake – or the serpent – is almost always viewed in a negative light, including right from the start in the Garden of Eden when the serpent convinces the first man and woman to make a big mistake.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And in today’s Old Testament lesson, we heard a disturbing snake story.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The setting is the long exodus from Egypt and the Israelites are once again complaining about the trip – they’re sick of the food, which, by the way, was the manna given them by God.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They’re sort of the ultimate example of a long road trip with kids in the back seat bellyaching, “Are we there yet?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, the story goes that God gets so fed up with their complaining that God sends poisonous snakes to bite and kill them.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No surprise, this gets the Israelites to quickly change their tune.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And God tells Moses to create a bronze snake, stick it on a pole, and anyone who gets bitten by a snake should look at the pole and live.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And that’s just what they do.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Now, if you find this story disturbing, you’re in good company.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>First of all, there’s the whole issue of God unleashing poisonous snakes on people.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And there’s also more than a whiff of magic and idolatry in this story.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Later on, that’s what bothered the rabbis.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So they suggested that Israelites weren’t so much looking at the bronze snake but gazing at God above, the Source of healing and life.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And this might be what Jesus has in mind in today’s gospel lesson.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus will be lifted up – lifted up on the cross – exalted on the cross – revealing the bottomless depth of God’s love for the world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God loves the world so much that the Son of God takes the worst that the world can dish out – betrayal, rejection, cruelty, suffering, and death – the Son of God takes all of our deadly venom and triumphs.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There’s a 19th Century hymn called “Look and Live.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Maybe some of you know it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We actually can’t sing it right now – not just because of my voice - but because it contains the word that we absolutely do not say during Lent.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, editing out that word, it goes like this:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’ve a message from the Lord…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The message unto you I’ll give.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘Tis recorded in His Word…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It is only that you “look and live.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Look and live,” my brother, live.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Look to Jesus now and live.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘Tis recorded in His Word…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It is only that you “look and live.”</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Look and live.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Look to Jesus now and live.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As always, there are venomous snakes out there slithering and hissing and biting, injecting their deadly venom into the world and, worst of all, into our hearts.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There’s so much poison flowing through our veins – fear, violence, wrath, greed, deceit.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There’s so much poison flowing through our veins, wreaking havoc and leading us along the way of death.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Fortunately, there is an antidote to this venom.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Look and live.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Look to Jesus now and live.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Today is the Fourth Sunday in Lent.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We are drawing close to Easter, a closeness symbolized by today’s switch of liturgical color from penitential purple to rejoicing rose.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We know that the path ahead will be difficult and dangerous. There really are poisonous snakes around.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But we can always look to Jesus and live.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We can be at the foot of the Cross and look in wonder at the Son of God who gives away his life, revealing the bottomless depth of God’s love for us, showing us what God is really like, showing us who we are meant to be.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Look and live.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And we can look to Jesus’ friends in the world right now – Jesus’ friends right here in our community – sacrificing so that the guests at the Community Crisis Center can wash and care for themselves properly – teaching our children the Way of God’s Love in Sunday School – making sandwiches for people we’ll never meet at Paul’s Place – gathering together to pray, worship, serve, and study, even though we come from different places and surely disagree about all kinds of things.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God loves the world so much - yes, even the snakes - God loves the world so much that the Son of God takes the worst that the world can dish out – rejection, cruelty, suffering, and death – the Son of God takes all of our deadly venom and triumphs.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, no matter how many slithering and hissing and biting snakes are around, trying to inject their venom into our world and into us, we also triumph when we:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Look and live.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Look to Jesus now and live.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-57425549334771241532024-03-03T05:21:00.000-05:002024-03-03T05:21:05.826-05:00Sacred People, Sacred Places<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglxh-Hbv1BEQK2lwXB-JED-GStWy33t6FlVa4WfhcEfQ7Rc7rrbAOI37WTfG9eGofi3tAc_pzFswuKNTzZ6db__Q1bm2608eYWGSBgm3oAxGLqf88-G5dgy0FVpHyQyowJbkoCyMoYpKsec_mzwwDQTbdbnV7fLG54P7IXrhcwAGYwHmwl1ydy/s3649/IMG_1802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2737" data-original-width="3649" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglxh-Hbv1BEQK2lwXB-JED-GStWy33t6FlVa4WfhcEfQ7Rc7rrbAOI37WTfG9eGofi3tAc_pzFswuKNTzZ6db__Q1bm2608eYWGSBgm3oAxGLqf88-G5dgy0FVpHyQyowJbkoCyMoYpKsec_mzwwDQTbdbnV7fLG54P7IXrhcwAGYwHmwl1ydy/w400-h300/IMG_1802.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">March 3, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The Third Sunday in Lent</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Exodus 20:1-17</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 19</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 Corinthians 1:18-25</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">John 2:13-22</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Sacred People, Sacred Places</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, we are now just about halfway through the season of Lent.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, if you haven’t yet chosen a Lenten discipline – something to take on or something to give up – there’s still time to get started.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And if your Lenten discipline has already fallen by the wayside, do not despair! There is still time to get back on track!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Lent, of course, began on Ash Wednesday.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And each Ash Wednesday is pretty much the same as the last – we follow the same ritual, say the same words.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But this year, Ash Wednesday has been sticking with me more than usual.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m not sure why.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I think part of it is that I’ve been here a while now – we’ve been through a lot together, through life and death, through lots of baptisms and lots of funerals, too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> We’ve gotten to know each other – I feel close to you and, frankly, I don’t want to think of any of you dying.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I think I’m also more aware of how fragile we are, how fragile I am - how one wrong move, how one phone call or text, how one piece of bad news can seem to change everything.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We are dust, and to dust we shall return.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But we are not just any old dust.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We are dust loved by God – loved by God so much that God chose to become dust, too – to join us here in this dusty life, in and through Jesus Christ.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>By coming among us in and through Jesus, God makes us dusty people sacred.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>By coming among us in and through Jesus, God makes the earth, all of its dusty places, sacred.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sacred people, sacred places.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>About a week and a half ago, I made a very quick trip back home to Jersey City.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I saw my parents – who are doing fine and who say hi to all of you – and we had dinner with my sister. It was a very rare and special occurrence for just the four of us to be together – a reunion of my family’s “original cast.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I also spent some time with my friend and mentor Lauren, who was the rector of the church where I served when I was first ordained.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Lauren taught me so much about what it means to be a priest and a pastor, about deep devotion to the church’s people and its ministries.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She was the one who revealed the importance of weekday prayer and worship, bathing the church walls in prayer, somehow making all the difference, even for people who never attend a weekday service.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The best parts of my priesthood I learned from Lauren.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, before I returned to Maryland, I had breakfast with my friend Catherine.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Catherine was not a parishioner of my former church but she lived in the neighborhood and was deeply committed to the community.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She is also a super-talented chef.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One day, a little more than ten years ago now, she came to see me about possibly hosting a monthly community supper in our Parish Hall.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She wanted to call it “Stone Soup.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so that’s what we did.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Catherine wasn’t only particular about the food she prepared and served – she only used fresh and healthy ingredients – she also took great care with the finer points of hospitality, setting our parish hall tables with beautiful table cloths and little floral arrangements.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The thought had been that we would be feeding people who might not otherwise be eating that night, people without homes or food.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Some of those people did come but mostly it was neighborhood people, some parishioners – some families but a lot of people who had a place to live and enough food to eat but no one with whom to share it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our suppers offered not just good food for the belly, but community for the soul – the gift of breaking bread together, talking, laughing, communion.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>While I was back home, I took the “long way,” driving around the city, trying to catch glimpses of places meaningful for me – the school and church where I learned about Jesus - the seemingly forsaken streets where violence is common, the corners we would bless and reclaim as sacred each Good Friday – the church where Sue and I entered the Episcopal Church and where I later served as Rector – and the waterfront with its views of the New York City skyline, both beautiful and painful.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sacred people, sacred places.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For Jews of two thousand years ago, the Temple in Jerusalem was the most sacred place in the universe.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was where, in a sense, God was believed to dwell.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was where Jews came from near and far to make sacrifices, trying to keep their end of the Covenant with God.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And just like the church or any other institution, the Temple had a system, a way to keep things organized and functioning as designed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The moneychangers played an important part in that system, exchanging coins bearing the image of the Roman emperor for coins free of graven images that could be used to purchase animals to be sacrificed by the priests.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And just like the church or any other institution, it was possible that the people who worked at the Temple lost sight of the big picture, got caught up in the daily business, forgetting its core mission.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, it certainly seems like that’s what Jesus thought had happened.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And he sure made quite a dramatic display that day in the Temple, fired up, disrupting that day’s business and worship, calling people back to prayer and worship that was more pure and holy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Gospel of John, which is what we heard today, was completed around the year 100 – seventy or so years after Jesus’ earthly lifetime – and thirty years after the Romans destroyed Jerusalem, burning down the Temple, destroying the holiest place on earth.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This was a cataclysm for the Jewish people, raising questions of survival, of how to adapt to life without Temple sacrifices, how to keep the Covenant without the priests slaughtering all those animals.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Eventually, Judaism evolved beyond the priests, keeping the Covenant through loving devotion and careful obedience to God’s Law.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And the early followers of Jesus, both Jews and Gentiles, came to understand that, for us, Jesus is the Temple – Jesus is the Person and Place of sacrifice and reconciliation – Jesus is the Temple that was destroyed and did indeed rise on the third day.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>By coming among us in and through Jesus, God makes us dusty people sacred – all of us here today, my parents and sister, my friends Lauren and Catherine, all the people out there going about their business maybe totally unaware of God’s love, all of us</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>By coming among us in and through Jesus, God makes the earth, all of its dusty places, sacred – all of it, the church where I learned to be a priest, the parish hall where we broke bread, the street corners stained by blood and suffering, all of it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Lent is just about halfway over.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Whether we haven’t even started or we’ve already slipped up, all of us can have a holy Lent if we remember this:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>By coming among us in and through Jesus, God makes us dusty people sacred.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>By coming among us in and through Jesus, God makes the earth, all of its dusty places, sacred.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sacred people, sacred places.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-91901325967587654072024-02-25T13:41:00.001-05:002024-02-25T13:42:38.596-05:00Walking In Love<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE6BAKfG98gnVuyurCWDzfqKBCVO1bUm1nC_Lmmhos1e5WmMWffmHSrsrMkn2MqTwf4JaiWrpDx_I2jVWBF9OR04htYIEbPYNONxuZP0xwBUswMxVwTSUsGLMzqTGHlgqujluSG8I8vW3yeSxxTNijggAU65rzILnO84arXkk5HCQydSuvvsCq/s4032/IMG_1848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE6BAKfG98gnVuyurCWDzfqKBCVO1bUm1nC_Lmmhos1e5WmMWffmHSrsrMkn2MqTwf4JaiWrpDx_I2jVWBF9OR04htYIEbPYNONxuZP0xwBUswMxVwTSUsGLMzqTGHlgqujluSG8I8vW3yeSxxTNijggAU65rzILnO84arXkk5HCQydSuvvsCq/w400-h300/IMG_1848.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">February 25, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The Second Sunday in Lent</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 22:22-30</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Romans 4:13-25</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Mark 8:31-38</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Walking In Love</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Walk in love as Christ loved us, and gave himself for us, an offering and sacrifice to God.</span></i></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Last Friday evening, some of us who have been involved in helping our Afghan friends got together over at Gilead House.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We had been invited by our very first Afghan friend – Hizbullah – whom we first met about a year and a half ago.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As some of you know, Hizbullah is a very bright and personable guy – a go-getter for sure. So, to no one’s surprise, he has already done quite well here in his new country.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In fact, he’s just gotten himself a new job in Washington DC. Which means he’s leaving Baltimore, which is definitely bittersweet for everyone who has gotten to know him here.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So before leaving, Hizbullah invited us for one last get-together, to say thank you for the welcome and the help.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>During the party, as I looked around the room at our own parishioners, and parishioners from St. Mark’s in Pikesville, and members of the synagogue Chizuk Amuno, and Betty Symington who leads ERICA, our local Episcopal group helping refugees, when I looked around at all these wonderfully capable and generous people, I thought back to a memorable lunch I had with our parishioner Louis Hogan over at the Greenspring Club, not long after I first arrived here.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We got to talking about the fall of Afghanistan and the dire plight of the Afghans desperately trying to flee, including many who had assisted the US during our long entanglement with their country.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Louis wondered if there was something that we – St. Thomas’ – might do.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so began a long and winding journey, with many fits and starts along the way.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We learned a lot about the challenging and complicated work of refugee resettlement.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We made friends with Betty at ERICA, and folks at St. Mark’s and Chizuk Amuno, and elsewhere.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, eventually, we welcomed Hizbullah and Abdul and Abobaker and others.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>By now, Hizbullah has learned a lot about America and so he was aware that Valentine’s Day had just passed. And so he made a point of inviting spouses to his pizza party.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so as I looked around the room, I thought of how much time and energy these wonderful people and their wives and husbands have sacrificed to welcome strangers – I thought of all the rides to and from school and work and all sorts of appointments – I thought of all the hours trying to cut through really thick and sticky red tape – I thought of all the dinner invitations and outings – I thought of all the sacrifices, although I know that each one of these people would say that caring for our new friends may not have always been easy but it has always been a gift and a blessing.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Walk in love as Christ loved us, and gave himself for us, an offering and sacrifice to God.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One of the curious themes in the gospels is the fact that the disciples – Jesus’ friends and followers – usually have a hard time figuring out who he is exactly and what is mission is all about.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The demons always know who Jesus is, but his friends, not so much.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There are exceptions, though, or at least partial exceptions.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just before today’s passage from the Gospel of Mark, Jesus asks his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That was an easy one – the disciples knew that people thought that Jesus was the return of one of Israel’s great prophets.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But then Jesus asks his disciples a tougher question.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“But who do you say that I am?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Probably to everyone’s surprise including his own, it’s Peter who gets the answer exactly right:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He says, “You are the Messiah.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At that moment, I always imagine Peter kind of shyly beaming, like the only student in class to give the correct answer.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, as we heard today, the problem is that Peter and the others have not yet grasped just what kind of Messiah Jesus is.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They probably have visions of worldly glory and triumph – glory and triumph that the hoped to enjoy as Jesus’ top lieutenants.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So it must have come as quite a shock when Jesus told his friends that he was going to suffer – that he would be rejected by all the world’s powerful people – that he would be executed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>What kind of messiah – what kind of savior – is that?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus also mentioned that he would rise again on the third day but by then I doubt anyone was still listening.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Peter simply cannot accept this – can’t accept that his Lord and friend was going to be hurt and die – and Peter may also have made the leap to wondering just what Jesus’ suffering and death would mean for him and the other disciples. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so Peter pulls Jesus aside and rebukes Jesus – a strong word, rebuke – in the gospels it’s often used when dealing with demons and evil spirits.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But Jesus does not accept Peter’s rebuke and turns it back on him, calling Peter “Satan,” the tempter – tempting Jesus to turn away from his mission of sacrifice and love.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Walk in love as Christ loved us, and gave himself for us, an offering and sacrifice to God.</i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Walking in love may sound sweet and sentimental but Jesus teaches us that this kind of love is expensive – it cost Jesus and his friends a lot – and it will cost us a lot, too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But Jesus knows that offering ourselves, sacrificing ourselves, is the only way to new life.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Bible and Christian history teach us that this is true.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And the Annual Report of this parish also teaches that this is true.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If you take the time to read the report – which I hope you will – you’ll find that there has been a whole lot of walking in love – a whole lot of self-offering and sacrifice – here at St. Thomas’ over the past year.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’ve already mentioned all the time and effort given for our Afghan friends, but on just about every page you can read about so many parishioners – you - who have given of yourselves so abundantly.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You’ve given astronomical amounts of time to our church and its ministries and shared your talents and your treasure so generously: planning and leading Bible Study – polishing silver and brass and arranging flowers – rehearsing hymns and anthems – assisting at worship as ushers, lectors, chalicists, and acolytes – crafting quilts and blankets for people sorely in need of some warmth and comfort – guiding our Preschool and Sunday School so they can continue to be places of care and education for our children – being wise stewards of our wealth and property – writing hundreds of thank you notes to people who have pledged or given in other ways - looking into painful chapters of our church history that have been neglected or even forgotten, remembering and re-membering – sharing our time and resources with people at Paul’s Place, the Community Crisis Center, Owings Mills Elementary School and other places of good work - coming to church regularly, even when maybe you don’t feel like it, because God has been so good to us and, who knows, maybe the person sitting near you just really needs you to be here.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Yes, there has been a whole lot of walking in love – a whole lot of self-offering and sacrifice – here at St. Thomas’ over the past year.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And no one has given more of herself to our church than Jesse VanGeison.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Although much of her work as Senior Warden has taken place behind the scenes at many meetings – so many meetings – you know that on top of her many warden responsibilities, Jesse also coordinates hospitality on Sunday, is leading our Cemetery Unity Committee with great devotion, and, as if that were not enough, has recently stepped up yet again to coordinate our Sunday School.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>All of this on top of her demanding professional responsibilities.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It is a rare day that Jesse and our exceptional Junior Warden Barritt Peterson and I aren’t in some kind of communication – innumerable texts, and phone calls, and, yes, meetings both in person and on Zoom.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Over these past couple of years I’ve come to know what many of you have known for a long time: Jesse is an extraordinary person – wise and skilled and generous – and with a really big heart.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At the end of most of our meetings or calls, Jesse will ask me, “Is there anything I can do for you?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Is there anything I can do to support you?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>What a tremendous gift and example for all of us – a servant leader for a servant church, walking in love, giving away so much of herself for God and for us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, yes, there has been a whole lot of walking in love – a whole lot of self-offering and sacrifice – here at St. Thomas’ over the past year.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And look where it has brought us!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Peter wasn’t able to hear Jesus say that he would rise again on the third day, but, eventually, he got it – he experienced the New Life of Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, during a hard time in our land and our world and many of our lives, maybe we can’t hear the promise of new life, either.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So I say, read the Annual Report.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Or just look around.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, most of all, let’s keep walking – let’s keep walking together – walking in love as Christ loved us, an offering and sacrifice to God.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-91132732113969243212024-02-18T05:19:00.002-05:002024-02-19T08:19:58.271-05:00The God of Second Chances<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbrPCu3hbc3TVn1CdDa840o2EuyLMWQ3vovsO3zhW6tv9pAuTMHFoOsBcmJhyphenhyphenPfPZ6Uf0PjzGwU97ZxLpwkEuVCuyJSjh3PRGKTX-jrB6h43HF22O2J2yulNr7VWeRUiX65w2n6SkFRCGSal6M_6F6pUW3m2TPh3uXAiTH8Yo_wNMMGMpriejb/s4032/IMG_1763.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbrPCu3hbc3TVn1CdDa840o2EuyLMWQ3vovsO3zhW6tv9pAuTMHFoOsBcmJhyphenhyphenPfPZ6Uf0PjzGwU97ZxLpwkEuVCuyJSjh3PRGKTX-jrB6h43HF22O2J2yulNr7VWeRUiX65w2n6SkFRCGSal6M_6F6pUW3m2TPh3uXAiTH8Yo_wNMMGMpriejb/w300-h400/IMG_1763.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">February 18, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The First Sunday in Lent</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Genesis 9:8-17</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 25:1-9</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 Peter 3:18-22</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Mark 1:9-15</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">The God of Second Chances</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Maybe you’ve heard that quote from the writer Maya Angelou.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Maya Angelou’s words point to the importance of first impressions and trusting our gut.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The quote comes up a lot when a politician or a celebrity does something wrong – something wrong that comes as no surprise to anyone who has been paying attention all along.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And I bet this quote rings true for any of us who’ve been burned by someone – burned by the same someone in the same way – over and over again.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The idea seems to be that it’s better to make a quick decision about someone, better to not hope for improvement, better to avoid disappointment, heartbreak, or worse.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Maya Angelou was very wise but, fortunately for us, this is not how God operates.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No, God is the God of Second Chances.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In today’s Old Testament lesson, we heard the end of the story of the Great Flood, Noah, and the Ark filled with pairs of the world’s creatures.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just like the story of Jonah that we talked about a few weeks ago, Noah’s Ark is one of the Bible stories that we often share with children – probably because there are animals involved.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I wonder about that because, when you stop and think about them, both stories have terrifying elements.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jonah spending three days and nights in the belly of the Great Fish sounds like the stuff of nightmares.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And even worse, God getting so fed up with our misbehavior that God floods the entire planet, destroying every living thing except Noah and his family and the animals he was able to cram onto the ark – well, it’s hard to imagine something more frightening than that.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But at the end of the story, it almost sounds like God has some second thoughts about the flood – or, if not second thoughts then at least God promises never to do something like this again – and God seals this promise – this covenant – with a rainbow across the sky.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just like in the story of Jonah, when he was disgorged from the big fish and given an opportunity to go to Nineveh and just like when the people of Nineveh repent and God decides not to destroy the city, God is revealed to be the God of Second Chances.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God is the God of Second Chances.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But why?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I mean, let’s face it, if you or I were God we would’ve given up on us long ago, turned our attention to some other planet, some other more obedient species with a better track record of love and generosity and forgiveness.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If you or I were God we would’ve given up long ago on a world where sick and addicted people are camped out on the streets of the wealthiest country on earth – a world where we can’t even have a Super Bowl parade without some angry and armed person opening fire – a world where a brutal dictator coldly disposes of his opponents without guilt or fear – a world filled with our less dramatic but still destructive cruelties and dishonesties</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It would seem that we have shown God who we are, over and over.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But maybe that’s not true.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’ve mentioned to you before that one of my spiritual heroes is Thomas Merton, the 20th Century monk and writer.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Thomas Merton spent a lot of time thinking and writing about what he called our real and false selves.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merton wrote, “Every one of us is shadowed by an illusory person: a false self. This is the man I want to be but who cannot exist. Because God does not know anything about him. And to be unknown of God is altogether too much privacy.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our false self is the person we present to the world – the mask we wear to get along in this messed up world we have created.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The false self thinks it can be satisfied with money, power, prestige, or just security – and yet they are all illusions.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The false self uses others for our own benefit or pleasure.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The false self is never truly at rest, at peace.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so, as Thomas Merton, wrote, God doesn’t have anything to do with our false self.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But God knows our real self – the real self that is such a great mystery that we may not even know it ourselves.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But when we look at Jesus – the Ultimate Second Chance given to us by God – we see what’s real.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When we look at Jesus, we see what God is really like and we see what we are really like, too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In today’s lesson from the Gospel of Mark, we again heard the story of Jesus’ baptism – this one-on-one encounter between God the Father and Jesus the Son, the Beloved with whom God is well pleased.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our real self, beloved by God.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And immediately after Jesus’ baptism, we’re told that the Spirit cast Jesus into the wilderness, where he was tempted by Satan. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I like that Mark doesn’t tell us the exact nature of the temptations because that means we can fill in the blanks and think of our own temptations, our own weak spots, and know that Jesus can resist them.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> With God’s help, our real self can resist our temptations – and live the lives of love that God has always intended for us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So this is our task, especially during Lent.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>With God’s help, we face our sinfulness and repent.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>With God’s help, we recognize that the stuff we spend so much time, energy and money chasing, will never really satisfy us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>With God’s help, we look more closely at Jesus and see who God really is.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>With God’s help, we look more closely at Jesus and see who we really are.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If you were here last week, you may remember that in my sermon I talked about my recent trip to San Francisco, which happened to coincide with the fierce rainstorms that swamped much of the California coast.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The worst of it was on Sunday when I made a memorable trip up and down “the mountain" to Grace Cathedral.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The next day, Monday, the storm had subsided.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I took an early morning walk down to the Bay where I was greeted with the most beautiful rainbow, soaring across the vast, open sky.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There weren’t too many people out yet but most of us there, including me, pulled out our phones and tried to photograph the rainbow’s beauty, its wide embrace.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No matter the storms of our life, no matter our sins and failures, no matter how we get fooled by our false self, God has known from the start who we really are.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so, long after we might have given up on us, God promises to be – continues to be - the God of Second Chances.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> </span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-65385890985190422752024-02-14T08:03:00.001-05:002024-02-14T08:03:15.268-05:00Abounding In Steadfast Love<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifuXyHtkSOm-BRcIaX623HckFoXqE-hOv-8zwuwbsHZ_Pp_c84rC7TALaquRucQWwDeiK7WQ9XJNHmr_jh25ESNzqP5vQxwaOso3v34vy_hBxvQG72iUXyPQOa2apJT_nLIw5d4zLO7qhOUxu0AZAgU7fkErWDty_goZj12EJ2og9tHiumCKVs/s784/ashwednesday_valentines.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="784" data-original-width="611" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifuXyHtkSOm-BRcIaX623HckFoXqE-hOv-8zwuwbsHZ_Pp_c84rC7TALaquRucQWwDeiK7WQ9XJNHmr_jh25ESNzqP5vQxwaOso3v34vy_hBxvQG72iUXyPQOa2apJT_nLIw5d4zLO7qhOUxu0AZAgU7fkErWDty_goZj12EJ2og9tHiumCKVs/w311-h400/ashwednesday_valentines.jpg" width="311" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">February 14, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Ash Wednesday</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Joel 2:L1-2, 12-17</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 103</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Abounding In Steadfast Love</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So the calendar has been playing some tricks on us lately.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You may remember that just a month and a half ago the Fourth Sunday of Advent was also Christmas Eve, a liturgical mash-up that required some flexibility and a quick turnaround here in church. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And now today, Ash Wednesday, the start of the holy season of Lent… is also Valentine’s Day.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Of course, this calendar collision hasn’t required us to change our plans here in church but it has unleashed some online church humor.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Maybe you’ve seen some of the memes that have been floating around the Internet:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>My favorite is the one that shows one of those little candy hearts that usually have sweet messages like “Be Mine” or “I luv U,” but this one says “Remember U R Dust.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And then at the bottom of the meme there’s this little reminder: “You can’t spell Valentine without Lent.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Which, you know, is actually true.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m usually not a fan of church humor but these have been fun, and, who knows, maybe they’ve helped to remind some people about Ash Wednesday.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, you know, today’s calendar mash-up does remind us of a great truth.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>None of what we are doing here today makes any sense without love.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m guessing that you don’t need me to tell you that we are going to die some day.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But we do need to remember and celebrate God’s love for us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In today’s opening prayer, I said that God hates nothing that God has made.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That’s accurate, as far as it goes, but the truth is way better than that.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As the Prophet Joel wrote long ago, God is “abounding in steadfast love.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God is abounding in steadfast love – that’s why God came among us in and through Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Unfortunately, we often reject God’s love.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We turn away from God’s love when we’re not loving - when we judge other people – when we refuse to share what we think is ours – when we are less than faithful in prayer and worship – when we treat people as things to use for our benefit or pleasure - when we think there is such a thing as “us” and “them” when with God it’s always just “us.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s hard to face our sins.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s frightening to look at our mortality.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But God is abounding in steadfast love, so we are never rejected and abandoned, no matter what we do or don’t do.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God is abounding in steadfast love, always inviting us, urging us, to turn around, to come back, to live and love as we were always meant to live and love.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>May we all have a holy and love-filled Lent, trusting in, and returning to, the God who abounds in steadfast love.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen. </span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-23842540335121912122024-02-11T13:31:00.003-05:002024-02-11T13:31:30.009-05:00Sacred Ground<div><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMg6ff6_Ngy05eSZkC5whzqz0oL79LIJV8YbWAy3sYsHljHUcafQ6W8NaEutyWdkdSxCcmGqttnbJXzFh0IO6RNz6AmGRSZj1ufEnNtx0vSP7k_Nc43BNl2yK4aZqvtnBVe3ULyyQhGVftw8xM728UxY_HL_f7F3J0ITZVoS1YhF8czMa3sJmV/s4032/IMG_0100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMg6ff6_Ngy05eSZkC5whzqz0oL79LIJV8YbWAy3sYsHljHUcafQ6W8NaEutyWdkdSxCcmGqttnbJXzFh0IO6RNz6AmGRSZj1ufEnNtx0vSP7k_Nc43BNl2yK4aZqvtnBVe3ULyyQhGVftw8xM728UxY_HL_f7F3J0ITZVoS1YhF8czMa3sJmV/w300-h400/IMG_0100.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1F8EqSij7CXrqw2UIn0w9qWL53f-OYr-QB3E6MXwxlWvshK0GTw7yzFtQfk1OlOWfBJbq7Uid0H73yeE1TSyiFxkd3hW-MGFuC5NGrC7qE6k2TCcfFyT5p5KOBfZB6pjgpRtrhOmitIVcivfmYIizmagnANWgMn4TExph38d2dA6D-eTISDIW/s259/tenderloin.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="195" data-original-width="259" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1F8EqSij7CXrqw2UIn0w9qWL53f-OYr-QB3E6MXwxlWvshK0GTw7yzFtQfk1OlOWfBJbq7Uid0H73yeE1TSyiFxkd3hW-MGFuC5NGrC7qE6k2TCcfFyT5p5KOBfZB6pjgpRtrhOmitIVcivfmYIizmagnANWgMn4TExph38d2dA6D-eTISDIW/w400-h301/tenderloin.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">February 11, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The Last Sunday after the Epiphany</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">2 Kings 2:1-12</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 50:1-6</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">2 Corinthians 4:3-6</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Mark 9:2-9</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Sacred Ground</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Many of you know that I took some vacation time last week. I was out in San Francisco for a few days, just in time for the torrential rains – the so-called “atmospheric river” - that soaked the California coast.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The worst of the rain hit San Francisco last Sunday.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That morning, I woke up to the pouring rain and the howling wind. I reconsidered my plan to walk up to Grace Cathedral – the grand Episcopal church that sits at the top of swanky Nob Hill.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I thought about what it would be like to walk up the steep hill to the Cathedral, certain that my flimsy umbrella would be no match for this fierce storm.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I imagined finally reaching the cathedral, soaked, chilled, and exhausted.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I also thought, I mean, I go to church all the time – so maybe I could sit out this one Sunday.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But then I thought of you, how so many of you manage to get here even when the weather isn’t so great, even when it might be tempting to just stay in bed, to roll back over and get more sleep, or just take some time for yourself, maybe pouring a leisurely second cup of coffee.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, I prepared for the storm as best I could and ventured out.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As it happened, the storm let up a bit as I huffed and puffed up California Street – and it felt good to reach Grace Cathedral, to once again step onto that sacred ground - to enter that holy place – to take in its vastness and early morning quiet.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The service was beautiful – the congregation welcoming and seemingly happy to be there, despite the weather.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I had the rare-for-me experience of being a person in the pew – or the chair, actually – totally anonymous and not having to worry about what I was going to say or do next.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>By the end of the service I had just about forgotten about the storm outside.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But when I reached the cathedral doors, the wind was whipping around the top of Nob Hill, the rain was coming down in great sheets, and I could plainly see why they call it an “atmospheric river.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A bunch of us waited in the cathedral vestibule, looking out nervously for any sign of let up, checking the weather app on our phones to get the latest forecast.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But finally, one by one we faced reality, zipping our jackets and pulling up hoods, opening our umbrellas, stepping out into the raging storm, getting on with our lives, leaving the safety and serenity of the cathedral and making our way down the hill.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And now here it is a week later and I’m back on our holy hill, on sacred ground, with all of you.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, the final Sunday before the start of Lent on Ash Wednesday.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, as we do on this day every year, today’s gospel lesson takes us up yet another holy hill, to sacred ground.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We heard the story of the Transfiguration as told by the Gospel of Mark.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus and his “inner circle” of disciples – Peter, James, and John, head up the mountain for some time away, away from all those people hunting for Jesus, hungry for his teaching, begging for his healing.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>While they’re up on the mountain, Jesus is transformed before their eyes – his clothes whiter than any white – and he is joined by Elijah and Moses, two towering figures of Israel’s past.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>What does one say or do in response to such a vision?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, Peter makes the totally reasonable suggestion of building dwellings for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. Maybe he’s thinking, let’s try to hold onto this moment for as long as we can.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No sooner does Peter propose this capital project then a cloud overshadows them all and the voice from heaven declares,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“This is my Son, the beloved, listen to him!”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And then, after the voice grows silent and the cloud and Elijah and Moses vanish, it’s time for Jesus to head down the mountain and face all that awaits them: the Cross, the Tomb, and New Life.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But before we move on, I’d like to circle back to Peter and his mountaintop building project.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When Peter proposed the dwelling places for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah, he was probably recalling the exodus of his Israelite ancestors from Egypt, when God would meet with Moses in what was called the “tent of meeting.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Up on the mountain, Peter recognized that God had come among God’s people once again, and so it seemed right that some kind of shelter should be constructed on this sacred ground.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I think Peter should get half-credit for this.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He’s not wrong but the truth is even more amazing than he can yet grasp.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In and through Jesus, God has come among us again – come among us as one of us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But Jesus sanctifies much more than just a piece of mountaintop real estate.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus, God’s Son, makes holy the parts of the world that are obviously beautiful like Grace Cathedral on Nob Hill in San Francisco and St. Thomas’ Church here on our little hill above Garrison Forest.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But Jesus doesn’t just stay up on the mountain.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No, Jesus, comes down the mountain, down into the depths and the mess, down into the storms of life, making holy the parts of the world – the parts of our lives - that might not seem beautiful at all – the places of suffering, fear, and death.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’ve been fortunate to visit San Francisco a bunch of times, and over the years, I’ve discovered places I like to go each time, different restaurants and parks and walking routes.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But when I planned this trip, I decided I wanted to see and do some things that I hadn’t seen and done before.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, I attended a beautiful concert by the San Francisco Symphony.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And I also visited the Tenderloin Museum.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If you know San Francisco, you may know that the Tenderloin has long been the city’s Skid Row – the neighborhood where the poor and the addicted live, either in Single Room Occupancy hotels or just out on the sidewalks.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Frankly, it’s one neighborhood that I’ve always avoided.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After all, I was on vacation – and I certainly don’t have to travel across the country to witness poverty and despair.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But I was intrigued by the Tenderloin Museum, interested to learn more about this seemingly God-forsaken neighborhood.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Of course, to get to the museum, I had to walk the streets of the Tenderloin and, while I wasn’t afraid, I was certainly on alert and it was painfully sad to see so many people camped out on the sidewalk, imprisoned by illness, by addiction.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The museum itself, however, is a bright, clean, modern space.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I was the only visitor at the time.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was so quiet in there – even prayerful.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Making my way around the exhibits, I learned about the neighborhood’s history, how it had long been home to oppressed and marginalized groups – waves of newly arrived immigrants, gay and transgender people – people who fought for their rights, doing the best they could for themselves and their neighborhood.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And the museum had information about some of the Christian congregations and organizations that have stuck it out in that challenging soil.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sure enough, Jesus is in the Tenderloin, too, making it sacred ground.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There’s Glide Memorial Church, a formerly Methodist church that has long thrown open its doors to the poor and the hurting and advocated for their well-being.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And there is St. Anthony’s Mission.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Back in 1950, a Franciscan priest named Father Alfred Boedekker opened St. Anthony’s Dining Room. On the first day he expected to serve 150 meals and ended up serving 400. And they’ve been at it ever since, just like our own Paul’s Place, gradually expanding their menu of services, shining the Light of Christ on a place long neglected – a place not God-forsaken at all, ground made sacred by Jesus Christ the Son of God.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Since Lent begins on Wednesday, you may have been making plans for what to give up or to take on during that holy season.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After my San Francisco experience, after my trip up and down the mountain, I’m going to ask God to remind me that God has come among us in Jesus Christ, who has made the whole earth – from swanky Nob Hill to the suffering Tenderloin – has made all of it - sacred ground.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> </span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-63424079673713893782024-01-28T05:02:00.003-05:002024-01-28T05:02:38.450-05:00Faithfulness, Patience, Tenacity<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht3VPFOxEQ91WiwGA8B_PbfTbQSwGor_qWePp_B3ZRcM-ezO4l2RhFTPiQOw-Un58DAKoiesg70hL8KZ7TwVrxvAE6KehXtjNuGdJb6h5kori8kQLkzleZypwbpJLnpWjwYYvaeT85DBxlHam-Xvli3INIV7K2lJG9U86b2sbmsf7tuLqovhMw/s274/florencelitim-oi.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="274" data-original-width="220" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht3VPFOxEQ91WiwGA8B_PbfTbQSwGor_qWePp_B3ZRcM-ezO4l2RhFTPiQOw-Un58DAKoiesg70hL8KZ7TwVrxvAE6KehXtjNuGdJb6h5kori8kQLkzleZypwbpJLnpWjwYYvaeT85DBxlHam-Xvli3INIV7K2lJG9U86b2sbmsf7tuLqovhMw/w321-h400/florencelitim-oi.jpeg" width="321" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">January 28, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Deuteronomy 17:15-20</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 111</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 Corinthians 8:1-13</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Mark 1:21-28</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Faithfulness, Patience, Tenacity</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’ve mentioned to you before that one of the highlights of my week is our Service of Holy Communion with Anointing, followed by Bible Study – every Wednesday at noon, over in the Old School Building.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We really have a wonderful little community – to which you are all invited!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I especially enjoy when we celebrate one of the so-called “Lesser Feasts,” one of the days when the Church remembers a holy person of the past.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I love learning and talking about these people, telling their stories of faith and sacrifice, drawing inspiration from their example, and trying to make connections from their time to how we live today.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Once a history teacher, always a history teacher, I guess!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This past Wednesday, we celebrated the Feast of Florence Li Tim-Oi, who was the first woman ordained a priest in the Anglican Communion, that family of churches descended from the Church of England, the worldwide community to which we Episcopalians belong.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Florence Li Tim-Oi was born in Hong Kong in 1907 and was baptized while she was a student, taking the name of Florence in honor of Florence Nightingale.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Unusually for a woman of her time and place, she studied theology and, in 1941, she was ordained a deaconess – an order of ministry for women that no longer exists but maybe some of you remember.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As a deaconess, she served refugees in Macao, a Portuguese colony on the Chinese coast.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Portugal remained neutral in World War II, so Macao was spared the worst. But the war prevented Anglican priests from getting there to provide the sacraments and pastoral care to the people.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, Florence Li Tim-Oi was ordained a deacon in 1941 and given special permission to celebrate the Eucharist in Macao.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Finally, although he was not in favor of women’s ordination, but choosing the spiritual needs of the people over church rules, the Bishop of Hong Kong ordained Florence Li Tim-Oi a priest. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The date was January 25, 1944 – eighty years ago. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>While the war raged, people had way more pressing things to deal with than a woman priest but once peace was achieved, attention turned to this unique ordination and there was, as you’d guess, great opposition.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Recognizing and respecting the view of the Church, Florence Li Tim-Oi stopped exercising her priestly ministry, but she never renounced her ordination.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Life for Chinese Christians became more difficult after the Communist Revolution in 1949 and became nearly impossible when Mao unleashed the Cultural Revolution in 1958 and all churches in China were closed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Like other educated people, Florence Li Tim-Oi was forced to work in a factory and on a farm. Later, the Communists grew suspicious of her and sent her to a reeducation camp.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Through all of this oppression and suffering, she was able to hold onto her faith, finding time as best she could to pray.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Chinese churches were reopened in 1979 and Florence Li Tim-Oi resumed her ministry, eventually settling in Canada where she served as a priest in the Anglican Church of Canada.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She died in Canada in 1992.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I think you’ll agree that even if she weren’t the first woman to be ordained, she would still be worthy of honor. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And her life of faith and courage offer us an example and inspiration in our time.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In the words of the prayer for her feast day, “Grant that we, following the example of Florence Li Tim-Oi, chosen priest in your church, may with faithfulness, patience, and tenacity, proclaim your holy gospel to all the nations…”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Faithfulness, patience, and tenacity.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Faithfulness, patience, and tenacity.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In today’s gospel lesson, we hear the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry, as told in the Gospel of Mark.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s the Sabbath and Jesus the faithful Jew is in the synagogue in the seaside town of Capernaum.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Although Mark doesn’t tell us the content of Jesus’ teaching, we are told that everybody is “astounded” by what he has to say.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Nobody has ever heard anyone teach like this before.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But Jesus is just getting started.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Suddenly, a man tormented by an “unclean spirit” appears and begins crying out.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> It’s always interesting that in the gospels most people, including his closest disciples, have a hard time figuring out who Jesus is, but not the unclean spirits, not the demons.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They always know exactly who he is.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This unclean spirit says, “I know who you are, the Holy One of God.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, in a dramatic display of power, Jesus casts out the spirit, and everybody in the synagogue is even more amazed, and we’re told that the word about Jesus spread far and wide.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I bet it did!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, if you’re feeling a little uncomfortable right now, I don’t blame you.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For people of our time and place, talk of unclean spirits and demons may sound kind of ignorant or superstitious.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After all, we know way more about physical and mental illness than people did two thousand years ago.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On the other hand, all you have to do is turn on the news to know that unclean spirits and demons continue to roam the earth, some cleverly disguised while others are pretty much out in the open – they’re out there causing chaos and so much suffering.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s noteworthy that in the story we heard today, the man possessed by the unclean spirit goes to the synagogue, enters a holy place.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m not sure what to make of that – it could be a bold move to find help and get relief – or maybe it was a brazen attack.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But it got me thinking about the unclean spirits of our time, the unclean spirits that can enter the Church – not just our church here, but the “big Church.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And as I’ve thought about this, it seems to me that the un-cleanest and most dangerous spirit of our time is fear.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There is certainly a lot to be afraid of.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our democracy and even our union are looking pretty fragile. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Horrific wars are raging in Ukraine and Gaza and elsewhere, risking wider and even more destructive conflicts.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Lots of people are having a hard time paying their bills. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We know the climate is changing with all sorts of dire consequences. I mean, just last week the temperature here zoomed from a bone-chilling 10 degrees to a balmy 72 degrees!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> And we all have our own stuff to deal with – our own particular fears for ourselves and the people we care about the most.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It is perfectly understandable to be afraid. But getting stuck in fear is very dangerous.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In his remarkable new book about American evangelical Christians, Tim Alberta, a writer for <i>The</i> <i>Atlantic</i> magazine, who is an evangelical himself, writes this:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“There is a reason that scripture warns so often and so forcefully against fear: it is just as powerful as faith.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That’s quite a statement, isn’t it?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Fear is just as powerful as faith.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Fear clouds our judgment and causes us to ignore, or even toss away, our moral compass – to blame “somebody” for all our troubles - to do whatever it takes to ease our fears.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Fear is just as powerful as faith.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so, with God’s help, we need to make a conscious choice to be not afraid.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m not talking about sticking our heads in the sand.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We should certainly be aware of the threats we face.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, with God’s help, especially in these difficult times, we need to choose faith over fear.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After all, Jesus was way more powerful than the unclean spirit on that long ago Sabbath – and Jesus is still way more powerful than the unclean spirits of our time.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Florence Li Tim-Oi knew that.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Throughout the many challenges and hardships she faced, I’m sure that she was sometimes frightened.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>How could she not be?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But she did not give into those fears.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Instead, during very hard times, she persevered, proclaiming the Good News with faithfulness, patience, and tenacity.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, with God’s help, we can do the same.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Faithfulness, patience, and tenacity.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-57288225298437397352024-01-21T05:41:00.003-05:002024-01-21T12:15:40.455-05:00Getting Into the Stream of Grace and Power<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGbnarxNTLmy1_0eUx8Ukk8dJFlIzLahUOqWaivDahbym4W8cckc5jNG3sJPbgLlDkskzc3cKFMvWPL5WR2Zu3G_bcvcGVv9iw12bSsjTSg9A0gv4oDCw1sQd2dnFIGv-SohON8_97DidFFi6-4Inzrck3acNFD6N50OlQBQfAMTqBukAoNlZw/s4032/IMG_1633.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGbnarxNTLmy1_0eUx8Ukk8dJFlIzLahUOqWaivDahbym4W8cckc5jNG3sJPbgLlDkskzc3cKFMvWPL5WR2Zu3G_bcvcGVv9iw12bSsjTSg9A0gv4oDCw1sQd2dnFIGv-SohON8_97DidFFi6-4Inzrck3acNFD6N50OlQBQfAMTqBukAoNlZw/w400-h300/IMG_1633.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">January 21, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The Third Sunday after the Epiphany</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Jonah 3:1-5, 10</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 62:6-14</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 Corinthians 7:29-31</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Mark 1:14-20</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Getting Into the Stream of Grace and Power </span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In today’s Old Testament lesson, we heard just a snippet from the Book of Jonah.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jonah is one of my favorite Bible stories.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s a tale that we often share with children, I guess because there’s an animal involved.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The story goes that God tells Jonah to go to the great city of Nineveh and call its residents to repent, otherwise God will destroy the city.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But Nineveh was the capital of the Assyrian Empire, an enemy of Israel. And so, Jonah, quite understandably, does not want to go to Nineveh and, frankly, he’d be perfectly happy if God just destroy the city and all the people who lived there.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jonah doesn’t just refuse God’s command, though. He runs off in the opposite direction of Nineveh, gets himself on a boat, and hopes to somehow outdistance God.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, as Jonah learns, God is everywhere.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And God can be quite persistent.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so God stirs up a fierce storm. The others on the boat figure out that passenger Jonah is the cause of the storm. Jonah confirms that they’re right and, very generously, he offers to have himself thrown overboard to spare the crew. To their credit, at first the sailors refuse to do this but the storm continues to wail, threatening all their lives and so, reluctantly, they do throw Jonah overboard.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, in the most famous part of the story, Jonah is swallowed by a big fish and spends three days and nights in its belly. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After Jonah prays some fervent prayers, God commands the fish to, well, disgorge Jonah onto the shore.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And then, God basically, says to Jonah: Let’s try this again?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And although Jonah’s still not happy about it, he goes to Nineveh, and warns them of their impending doom.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And to Jonah’s dismay, the people, from the king on down, they accept Jonah’s call to repent. They change their ways and God spared the great city.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s a wonderful story because Jonah is such a recognizable figure.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For perfectly understandable reasons, Jonah resists God’s will.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I don’t want to go to Nineveh.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I don’t care what happens to the people who live there.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span> <span> </span>But God cares about Nineveh and its people.</span><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> And</span> there are consequences to resisting God’s will. It must have been awfully dark and smelly and scary in the belly of the fish.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But when Jonah accepts God’s will, even when he didn’t really feel like it, even when he wished that God had asked him to do some other task or to go somewhere else, the people Nineveh heard Jonah’s message – heard God’s message - and they changed their ways and they were saved. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, despite the big Ravens game – and, wow, what a game it was – and despite the bitter cold and lingering ice, I was so pleased that so many people heard the call to come to the third edition of our Shoemaker Speaker Series yesterday afternoon.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And there were a good number of people watching at home and I’m sure many more have and will watch the recording.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If you haven’t seen it, I hope you will.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Dr. Jamie Marich offered us much wisdom on applying the Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous to healing from trauma – trauma, which, unfortunately, touches most, if not all, of our lives.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And my friend and colleague the Rev. Arianne Rice asked Dr. Marich thoughtful questions, both her own and from the audience.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As most of you know, the idea behind the speaker series is to honor and remember Sam Shoemaker, son of the Greenspring Valley and probably the best-known Episcopal priest of the mid-Twentieth Century, and also, in some small way, to extend Shoemaker’s ministry into our time.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sam Shoemaker is best remembered for providing the spiritual foundation for the Twelve Steps of AA – a huge contribution, of course. But he was also a faithful pastor, tireless evangelist, highly regarded preacher, and prolific author.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’ve been making my way through some of his many books – yes, this is what I do for fun – and I came across this quote:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Our religion is a stream of power and grace flowing out from God, to us, and then through us. When we get into that stream, we are carried along by it. It bears us and lifts us and moves us and guides us. But we must commit ourselves to it, and immerse ourselves in it.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our religion is a stream of power and grace…and we must immerse ourselves in it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At first, Jonah resisted that stream of power and grace, and with unpleasant consequences.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But in today’s gospel lesson we hear the story of Jesus calling his fishermen disciples, the two pairs of brothers, Simon Peter and Andrew and James and John.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And one of the striking features of this story is how these fishermen – these seemingly ordinary people with no fancy theological education – no formal education at all, probably – they practically jump out of their boats and immerse themselves in God’s stream of power and grace – the stream that they recognized and joined, in and through Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Peter and Andrew and James and John, they got out of their boats and into God’s stream – and we know some of what awaits them – they won’t be perfect, they’ll mess up, and there will be sacrifice and suffering – but ultimately they will experience the New Life of Easter – a far more powerful sign than surviving three days and nights in the belly of a big fish.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In a few moments, I’ll have the joy and privilege of baptizing Edward Welbourn V – that’s Skip to you - the latest in a long line of people who have taken the plunge right here at St. Thomas’.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Now, Skip’s baptism may not look like immersion but make no mistake, he is being placed into God’s stream of power and grace.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, for the rest of his life, Skip will be called to live out his baptism promises made on his behalf today.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Over and over, he will be called to step into God’s stream of power and grace - the stream that will guide him as he prays and asks forgiveness – the stream that will carry him as he proclaims the Good News by what he says and does, as he loves his neighbor as himself, even when he doesn't feel like it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span> The stream will carry him</span> as he looks for Christ in everyone, even the people we’re taught to fear and hate, even the people of Nineveh. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, no matter how long ago we were baptized, you and I are called to step into God’s stream of power and grace, just like the reluctant Jonah, just like the flawed but faithful fishermen brothers, and just like Sam Shoemaker who, with God’s help, led so many people to New Life in Jesus Christ.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-65314636938905899182024-01-14T05:28:00.004-05:002024-01-14T05:28:46.356-05:00“Come and See” (Or, “You Should Come to My Church Sometime”)<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8pglciRiIgjr75nVKRmxuVxpx0_s7JZhI3VyMlxx0Pc_Gt9cS1jYichyPMIhoXYWAUfxzoEegcgDLQB9YsErtHaPXjg2k-vMusSV_RfBUoY23hQfCaLJebsAEtBGzflOm94p4rIRv3_e8U-eiPKndyOtvVHfVdcR5Tp8vGgmQVucb3GUgL30A/s4032/IMG_7958%20(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8pglciRiIgjr75nVKRmxuVxpx0_s7JZhI3VyMlxx0Pc_Gt9cS1jYichyPMIhoXYWAUfxzoEegcgDLQB9YsErtHaPXjg2k-vMusSV_RfBUoY23hQfCaLJebsAEtBGzflOm94p4rIRv3_e8U-eiPKndyOtvVHfVdcR5Tp8vGgmQVucb3GUgL30A/w400-h300/IMG_7958%20(1).jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">January 14, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The Second Sunday after the Epiphany</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 Samuel 3:1-20</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 139:1-5, 12-17</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 Corinthians 6:12-20</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">John 1:43-51</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Come and See” (Or, “You Should Come to My Church Sometime”)</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Around twenty-five years ago, Sue and I were living lives very different from how we live today.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Back then we had been married for a couple of years. We had just purchased our own home, a narrow house squeezed in the middle of a row of three.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sue was working in New York City at the corporate office of Barnes and Noble. (Man, I still miss that employee discount!)</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And I was teaching history at my high school alma mater, St. Peter’s Prep, a Jesuit school in Downtown Jersey City.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, back around the turn of the century, if you had asked me about my future – our future – I think I would have expected things to stay pretty much the same for a long time.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I had wanted to teach at St. Peter’s for years, so it felt like I had landed my dream job.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Why would I ever leave?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And Sue already had a lot of responsibility at B&N and I expected that she would continue to rise through the ranks.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> I’ve always been a little restless, but I think I was mostly content.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At some point, though, I did realize that something important was missing from our lives.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sue and I didn’t go to church.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Teaching in a Catholic school, I sort of got church through my job, but that wasn’t the same as the two of us being part of a local parish and attending Sunday Mass.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, in the Year 2000, on the eve of the First Sunday of Advent, we walked from our house to a local Catholic church and attended a Saturday evening Mass. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was not a good experience.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Now, if that were today, I would be much more forgiving.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After all, I’ve presided over many less than inspiring services and I’ve preached any number of clunky sermons.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Despite the best intentions and efforts, it happens.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, back then, both Sue and I were very much “one and done.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We were definitely not going back there.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, that week I was telling this story in the faculty room – probably carrying on a bit, exaggerating how bad it was to get some laughs from the other teachers – when one of my colleagues – a math teacher named Patty - quietly said, “You should come to my church sometime.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And Patty’s church was St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, which happened to be walking distance from our house.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She went on to tell me why she thought I would like it. I specifically remember that she thought that I would hit it off with the priest.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A bit of prophecy there.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, anyway, the next Sunday, the Second Sunday of Advent, Sue and I decided to try again, and walked to St. Paul’s.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And as soon as we entered the church, somehow I knew that I had found “it.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I didn’t even know what “it” was but I knew “it” was there.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I was struck by the warm welcome, the beauty of the old building, the diversity and friendliness of the people, the gorgeous music, and, yes, the priest who preached with power and authenticity.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>During the shockingly enthusiastic Exchange of Peace, when Sue and I were shyly staying in our pew offering just some smiles and waves, the priest came down the aisle and extended his hand to us and said, “I’m Dave. Welcome to St. Paul’s.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On that now long ago December morning, somehow I knew that I had reached a turning point in my life.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sue and I went back to St. Paul’s on the following Sunday and for years of Sundays after.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Dave – the Rev. David Hamilton – and I became very close friends – he was like a father, brother, and mentor all wrapped in one – and a couple of decades later I would have the sad privilege of presiding and preaching at his funeral at the cathedral in Newark.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, of course, soon I began to sense a reawakened call to the priest, beginning a journey that eventually brought me back to St. Paul’s as its rector and finally to someplace called… Owings Mills. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And none of it would have happened if that day in the faculty room Patty hadn’t spoken up and said, “You should come to my church some time.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Or, as Philip says to Nathanael in today’s gospel lesson, “Come and see.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I know that I’ve told you parts of that story before.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I do try to avoid repeating myself but then I thought that I bet Nathanael retold the story of Philip inviting him to “Come and see” – I bet he told that story over and over.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I think about my story all the time and I’ve shared it many times – and I think it’s a story worth repeating because it illustrates a great truth: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The story of Philip calling Nathanael to Jesus is not just a story from long ago.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The call to “Come and see” is not just found in the Bible.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In our own time and place, we can – should – must - invite people to “come and see.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The other day, the leaders of various ministries received what is maybe a dreaded email.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s time to get working on our ministry reports, which will be gathered into the Annual Report, which will be distributed next month at our Annual Parish Meeting.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Although no doubt I’ll procrastinate for a while longer before I start writing my report, I have begun looking back on last year, reflecting on what has gone well and where there is still more work to be done.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There’s at least one thing that I know is noticeable because many people have commented on it: quite a few new people have joined us over the past year.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Not all of them have stuck around but many of them have.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They – you – have gotten involved in many ministries, have shown a real hunger to learn more about our faith and our church, and, yes, many newcomers have pledged their financial support for 2024.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Whenever I meet with newcomers, I ask how they found St. Thomas’ and what led them to check us out.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The three most common answers are:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The website and our online services. (In a number of cases, people watched the livestream for many weeks or even months before deciding to join us in person.)</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The second is our beautiful and historic building – the understandable desire to see what it looks like inside, to find out what goes on in here.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And the third, and by far the most common and effective, is a personal invitation.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Somebody, like my colleague Patty long ago, like the Apostle Philip way longer ago, had the faith and courage to say:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You should come to my church sometime.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Come and see.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The point is not to grow our church, though that’s important.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No, we are called to extend these invitations because, like Philip and Patty, we know that we have found the “Good Stuff” – we have found Jesus, who offers love and mercy and hope, especially in a time when love and mercy and hope seem to be in short supply.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Nathanael went from being a skeptic – maybe even a bigot (“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”) to a disciple – a disciple who, even better than Philip, recognized who Jesus really is.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We are called to extend these invitations because a simple “Come and see” can transform lives.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And as my friend Dave liked to say, “I don’t have to believe it, because I’ve seen it!”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Twenty-five years ago, I was a reasonably content high school history teacher.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Yet, my life has been enriched in countless ways because one day in the faculty room, Patty quietly said, “You should come to my church sometime.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Come and see.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen. </span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-67331501719037957502024-01-07T12:53:00.000-05:002024-01-07T12:53:08.554-05:00"Faith is Always Personal, But Never Private"<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis_XxaFlx9VW4p_iqjGaDTBY9I7HimKnzbF_MgiYpndPg3QndYCoWkpyoAdMDNJKEwVUywl5ibN-0BxnNOPDB4NCtwGBXGFl8qmtIwr9dmt97sbIw_5EkOt0H3eYXZlj3Qj9wbBNaUImz0563hr74s-lLaM1eBL-Ww7eFdFBLTrqMf7l-6E-JN/s4032/IMG_1668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis_XxaFlx9VW4p_iqjGaDTBY9I7HimKnzbF_MgiYpndPg3QndYCoWkpyoAdMDNJKEwVUywl5ibN-0BxnNOPDB4NCtwGBXGFl8qmtIwr9dmt97sbIw_5EkOt0H3eYXZlj3Qj9wbBNaUImz0563hr74s-lLaM1eBL-Ww7eFdFBLTrqMf7l-6E-JN/w400-h300/IMG_1668.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">January 7, 2024</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The First Sunday after the Epiphany – The Baptism of Our Lord</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Genesis 1:1-5</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 29</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Acts 19:1-7</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Mark 1:4-11</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Faith is Always Personal, But Never Private”</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, the Christmas Season came to an end yesterday.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was the Feast of the Epiphany – the day when we remember the Magi, who, led by a star but at great risk, traveled so far, bearing their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh for the newborn King.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Here at St. Thomas’, we celebrated the Epiphany in a rather unusual way: we had a wedding!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was a joy to celebrate the marriage of Jessica Nyce (who grew up here) and Brian Parker in our church still so beautifully decorated for Christmas. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was a joy to celebrate love, the greatest of God’s good gifts.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And now today we jump ahead a couple of decades after the Epiphany, skipping over the years of Jesus’s childhood and young adulthood, the years of his life that we know almost nothing about.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"> <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Today we jump ahead to a grown up Jesus beginning his mission – a mission that begins in the water of baptism. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just like beautiful little Aitana here last week, just like most, if not all, of us, Jesus was baptized.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Isn’t that extraordinary?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>All four of the gospels include something about the baptism of Jesus, in somewhat different ways, but I love how Mark – the earliest and most succinct of the four, the one I just read for us – I love how Mark tells the story. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In Mark’s account, Jesus is on the move, making the journey from his hometown of Nazareth in Galilee all the way to where John is baptizing in the River Jordan, a trip that was maybe about 150 miles.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, this isn’t a case of Jesus just happened to be walking by, heard John’s preaching, and made a snap decision to get in line and get dunked with everybody else.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This wasn’t an “impulse baptism.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No, Jesus is purposeful – he’s ready to begin his mission – presumably he has said goodbye for now to his family, including his mother Mary who must have always known, and perhaps dreaded, that this day would come.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> And somehow Jesus knows that his mission must begin by being baptized by John – the messenger who has prepared the way.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s time to get started.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The kingdom of God is drawing near.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And the way Mark tells the story, Jesus’ baptism is a personal encounter between God the Father and Jesus the Son.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As Jesus comes up out of the water, he sees the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descends on him like a dove.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The kingdom of God is drawing near, very near.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And the voice from heaven says to Jesus – not to John and not to the others who were being baptized – but only to Jesus, directly: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And then, soaked with the baptismal water, and with the voice from heaven still ringing in his ears, Jesus begins his mission – first, driven by the Spirit to endure forty days and nights in the wilderness, and then traveling from village to village, teaching and healing, gathering followers and casting out demons, and finally giving away his life in loving service to God the Father and to all of us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And it all began with baptism.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m sure I must have mentioned to you how much I love baptizing people.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But I’m not sure I’ve told you why, exactly.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, Baptism is such a beautiful celebration of new life and hope.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And I love that we baptize people right in the middle of our Sunday service, reminding us all that, once upon a time, that was us, and giving us the opportunity to renew our baptismal promises, pledging once again to pray, repent, share, and love.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>With God’s help, of course.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, I love Baptism for all of that.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, I confess, that my love of Baptism is partly selfish.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At every Baptism, I always have the best view.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, while every Baptism is certainly a personal encounter between God and the person being baptized, it’s not private.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Every time, I can sense God’s grace.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In that holy moment, I can feel the indissoluble bond that God makes in Baptism – the bond God makes with the person just baptized – the bond God has made with with all of us – the bond that can never be broken, no matter what.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I mean, really, what could be better, right?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One of my all-time favorite quotes comes from Jim Wallis. He’s a writer, theologian, and activist. Maybe some of you have heard of him. He was the founder of the Christian organization Sojourners, and the longtime editor of its magazine.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Wallis wrote that for us Christians, “Faith is always personal, but never private.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Faith is always personal, but never private.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I recalled those words when I reflected on Jesus’ baptism, on our baptism, and on our life together as the church, especially these days.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At his baptism, Jesus the Son had a personal encounter with God the Father.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And that personal, one-on-one encounter must have changed Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We can’t be sure how exactly, but after being bathed in that water and seeing the descending Spirit and hearing the voice from heaven, how could Jesus have been the same as before?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And after that personal experience, Jesus doesn’t just head back home to Nazareth, warmly greeted by a relieved Mary and the others.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus doesn’t just keep his baptismal experience in his heart, treasuring his own personal encounter with God.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Knowing for sure that he is beloved, Jesus immediately begins his ministry, out in a world where some will welcome and embrace him and where others will reject him and some will even seek to be rid of him.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Faith is always personal, but never private.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In last week’s sermon, I suggested that we are meant to be like the lights on our Christmas tree, shining the light of Christ, all year long. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But I was talking about our Christmas tree out there in the circle, not the Christmas tree in our home.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We have to shine our lights out there, into our often shadowy and cold and inhospitable world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We have to shine our lights to lead people to Jesus, just like the star led the Magi.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Part of that shining is doing good works – the good works that St. Thomas’ has long done so faithfully and generously.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But part of that shining is also telling our story, sharing with others why our faith is important and meaningful to us, why we come here week after week, how God has been so good to us - explaining why we’ve decided to follow the way of Jesus, despite the very real costs.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I suspect that this kind of shining – the telling of our story – is much harder for most of us than doing good works.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Yet, especially these days, when fear and hate are on the loose, we have such an important – such a vital story – to tell.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In so many different and personal ways, God has brought all of us together here at St. Thomas’ – to be a sign for our community and beyond that it’s possible for people of different backgrounds and with various ideas to pray and serve together, to love one another.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In our beautiful diversity, we know that we are all beloved by God.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And our mission, which begins in the water of baptism, is to share that Good News, in what we do – and by what we say.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Faith is always personal, but never private.” </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-64129376901086712792023-12-31T05:12:00.003-05:002023-12-31T12:57:57.695-05:00Christmas Lights, All Year Long<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSFbLeTqO_bx2X4kFApzVJbeQLC0s5UjWC1OC16nN0PCgy96ca4rZsKacvBfJiVo3Fztq3wdZuEm2BeHeiLK13t2qgGTRx1oWWCCaZ9eb6RtvhKRugog6rUek1w7BBLZTg1cRuCJ0UPyec5hi_URFuW3EMXxGu4I45Pg6stAjUMA6_DhSnX5Ml/s4032/IMG_1586.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSFbLeTqO_bx2X4kFApzVJbeQLC0s5UjWC1OC16nN0PCgy96ca4rZsKacvBfJiVo3Fztq3wdZuEm2BeHeiLK13t2qgGTRx1oWWCCaZ9eb6RtvhKRugog6rUek1w7BBLZTg1cRuCJ0UPyec5hi_URFuW3EMXxGu4I45Pg6stAjUMA6_DhSnX5Ml/w300-h400/IMG_1586.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">December 31, 2023</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">The First Sunday after Christmas</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Isaiah 61:10-62:3</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 147</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">John 1:1-18</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Christmas Lights, All Year Long</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, as I’m sure you remember, last Sunday we had a kind of holy mash-up: it was both the Fourth Sunday of Advent and also Christmas Eve.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And now this Sunday we have yet another unusual blend of the calendar: it’s the First Sunday after Christmas and it’s also New Year’s Eve.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I will come back to that in a minute. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But first I want to say, want to celebrate, that we had a most joyful Christmas Eve and Christmas Day here at St. Thomas’.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A few highlights:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Thanks to careful preparation and some skillful work, on Sunday between around 11:00 and noon, the church was quickly transformed from Advent simplicity to Christmas lavishness.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At the 4:00 service, the children did a great job reenacting the Christmas story. <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Throughout our Advent / Christmas mash-up, the choir sang as beautifully as ever, of course.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, thankfully, lots of people came to church – folks we see all the time, others we see less often but we’re always glad when they’re here, and some newcomers who picked a particularly good weekend to go church shopping.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On Sunday evening and Monday morning, a number of people asked if I was tired but the truth is that I was energized by the whole experience. In fact, on Christmas afternoon – which, you may remember, was unseasonably warm – I took a wonderful long walk on the NCR Trail, reflecting on it all and thanking God for my many blessings.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In most ways, this year’s Christmas was similar to the last couple of Christmases here.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But there were a couple of differences.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One was the schedule change. Not having a late service on Christmas Eve was a big change – one that I definitely worried about – but it seems to have worked out OK.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And another difference is our Christmas tree that stands right outside in the circle.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Thanks to the generosity of a couple of our parishioners, this year our Christmas tree is firmly planted in the earth – a wise environmental choice, for sure, but that firmly planted tree also sends an important symbolic or even spiritual message.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just like today, on Christmas morning our gospel lesson was from the Prologue of the Gospel of John.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Rather than starting with Mary and Joseph and the angels and shepherds, John takes us all the way back to “in the beginning.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And John also introduces one of the key themes of his gospel: that in and through Jesus, God’s light has entered the world in a new way – and it’s a light that simply can’t be overcome by the shadows of the world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, in my homily on Christmas morning, I talked about how dark it gets around here at night – much darker than this almost life-long city dweller is used to – so dark that I avoid driving at night as much as possible.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But when I am out at night, when I approach the tricky intersection of Garrison Forest Road and St. Thomas Lane, I love seeing the light shining out from our cupola – the light shining out from our bell tower into the darkness – a sign of Christ’s Light shining into our shadowy world – reassuring me, and I hope others, that this holy light will never, ever be extinguished, no matter what.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And in the days leading up to Christmas, there was even more light shining into the shadows.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For the past few weeks, after I’ve survived that tricky intersection, as I pass the church driveway on my way back to the rectory, I’ve tried to cast a quick glance into our campus where all the lights that cover our firmly-planted Christmas tree have been shining with a surprising and beautiful brightness.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s so beautiful, in fact, that the thought crossed my mind that maybe we should just leave the lights on all year long.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Which is probably a bad idea, I know. </span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, we’re not going to do that. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In fact, the lights have already been removed from the tree, earlier than I would have liked.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, you know, now it’s up to us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Maybe, together and individually, we can be those Christmas lights.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Maybe this can be our New Year’s Resolution – to stay firmly planted here at St. Thomas’ and shine the Light of Christ into our shadowy world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>To be Christmas lights, all year long.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And what might that look like?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, in addition to celebrating the First Sunday after Christmas and New Year’s Eve, we are also overjoyed to have one last Baptism of the old year.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In just a few moments, I’ll have the privilege of baptizing beautiful little Aitana. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Right here in front of all of us – with all of us - she will begin her life in Christ.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And as we always do before every Baptism, we will renew our Baptismal Covenant – promising once again to gather here as often as we can, staying firmly rooted in this holy soil – vowing to turn away from evil and, when we mess up, repent and ask forgiveness.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We’ll pledge to proclaim the Good News by what we say and do – and affirm that we’ll seek and serve Christ in absolutely everyone and strive for justice and peace, respecting the dignity of all.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As always, only with God’s help.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And at the conclusion of the Baptism, I’ll present Aitana with her candle – which she will probably reach for because we are naturally drawn to the light – and I’ll tell her the great truth that she is the light of the world and that she should let her light shine so the world – our often shadowy world – will see her good works and give glory to God. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>An old year is drawing to a close.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I think we can all agree that, while many of us have had joyful experiences – look at Aitana here – overall, it has been a hard year.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We’ve had a joyful Christmas at St. Thomas’, but there are some among us who are mourning heartbreaking losses and lots of us are fearful about the future – our own futures and also what the new year may hold for our country and the world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, just like the light from our cupola, the light of Christ shines into the shadows.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just like the lights from our firmly planted Christmas tree, lots of little lights, together, make a great light.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so, as we begin a new year together, with God’s help, let’s resolve to shine our little lights into the shadows.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Let’s be Christmas lights, all year long.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-15401880878078268702023-12-25T07:05:00.002-05:002023-12-25T07:05:33.870-05:00God's Light Shines<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJPsHEJQ9ILF8fgvnvKDLrqXjquSUVgr6d1vaKDnDjJXB2sidfHb8YvQ79Dh63A1Z8BNF1_5Z5Jp06qP6skK34-2ikfIxRkOC4Q0DVX2ruJNZARbscufp082ucYc7ulhXhIDKwRo_aVQPFNbRYmNKInX0CNbb2uvtS6OMEsvxzHoShHjfoCwFd/s4032/IMG_1631%20(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJPsHEJQ9ILF8fgvnvKDLrqXjquSUVgr6d1vaKDnDjJXB2sidfHb8YvQ79Dh63A1Z8BNF1_5Z5Jp06qP6skK34-2ikfIxRkOC4Q0DVX2ruJNZARbscufp082ucYc7ulhXhIDKwRo_aVQPFNbRYmNKInX0CNbb2uvtS6OMEsvxzHoShHjfoCwFd/w400-h300/IMG_1631%20(1).jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">December 25, 2023</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Christmas Day</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Isaiah 52:7-10</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 98</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Hebrews 1:1-4</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">John 1:1-14</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">God’s Light Shines</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merry Christmas!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s a little hard to believe but this is actually my third Christmas at St. Thomas’.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sue and I have been here with you for about two and a half years now. And, while I do try to be mindful and practice gratitude, the truth is that I have gotten kind of used to the many blessings of this place.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There’s the remarkable natural beauty that is all around us, of course.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There are our wonderful parishioners – you - who love this place so much and generously share your time, talents, and treasure to keep our church vital and vibrant.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There’s our amazing church staff. They are so highly skilled and so devoted to caring for all of us. They got me through the crunch time of the Fourth Sunday of Advent and Christmas Eve – got me through so well that, honestly, I really didn’t worry about a thing!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>(Well, I did worry about people showing up here for a late service last night. But that’s it, really!)</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But there’s at least one thing about this place that I have not gotten used to, and no matter how long I live here, I don’t think I ever will.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It gets really dark here at night.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As an almost-lifelong city dweller, I am used to a lot of artificial night light, so this deep darkness has been a big and unsettling change.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, probably like at least some of you, because it’s so dark, I try to avoid driving around here at night.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In the dark, it’s easy to run into an obstacle - like one of our many deer, which would be catastrophic for the poor animal and, I have to say, also not great for my vintage Honda Fit.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And nowadays many people drive rather large vehicles, much bigger and taller than my Fit, with those super-bright headlights that shine right into my eyes, distracting me for a few precious and dangerous seconds.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, yes, I try to avoid driving around here at night as much as possible.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, when I am out at night, I’m often on Garrison Forest Road. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, when I’m almost home, there’s one last challenge: making that dangerous and tricky turn onto St. Thomas Lane. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As I hope you know, it’s a three-way intersection but only a two-way stop.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I always wonder, are the other drivers paying attention? Do they know the rules? Are they going to follow the rules? Am I going to get home without crashing?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, as I approach that one last challenge, I always love to see the light shining out from our church cupola – our bell tower - the light shining into the shadows – showing me the way, reminding me of God’s love and presence, no matter how many obstacles I face, no matter how dangerous the road, no matter how shadowy the world may be.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The light shines out.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Today, on Christmas Day, we always hear the Christmas story according to the Gospel of John.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>John is that last of the four gospels to be written, probably around the year 100.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s the product of decades of divinely-inspired reflection on the meaning of Jesus – his life, death, resurrection, and, yes, his birth.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, in John’s Christmas story, he doesn’t give us the details found in Matthew and Luke – the tale of angels and shepherds and wise men and Mary and Joseph and a helpless and vulnerable newborn king – the story so beautifully reenacted by our children in last night’s Tableau.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No, in his Christmas story, John goes wide – offering us the biggest picture of all – taking us way back, all the way back to, “in the beginning.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I love the Christmas stories in Matthew and Luke, but John tells us what we most need to hear, especially during these difficult days of sadness, fear, anger, and hate.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In his Christmas story and throughout his gospel, John insists that in and through Jesus, God’s light shines.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, he insists, there is simply no force powerful enough to extinguish God’s light, never, ever.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Each night, the light shining out from our church reminds us of God’s light shining in and through Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The light reminds us of what Christmas is all about.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No matter how many obstacles we face, no matter how frightened we may be, no matter how dangerous the road, God’s light shines, showing us the way home.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God’s light shines.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merry Christmas to you all!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-88349163199061851312023-12-24T13:57:00.005-05:002023-12-24T13:57:49.100-05:00Christmas Reenactors<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5R6QjbVFQCI2BUfxEM_pUMdqfZotRacgBrYZkb7EytroDpv26DDXq036DQd9yorYDj4z9MQFDVMZr0m5nhH1jlUu2dtrnlThSWHiZ-jCg0laqsS05Sq_4ap9bbCHips7P4RQqhamT7kbvNX6sFnLpcQeG35aXZjaKeVFX-FLlSKbf5YWmMrqC/s2048/321305563_713442326760490_3405092946848322411_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5R6QjbVFQCI2BUfxEM_pUMdqfZotRacgBrYZkb7EytroDpv26DDXq036DQd9yorYDj4z9MQFDVMZr0m5nhH1jlUu2dtrnlThSWHiZ-jCg0laqsS05Sq_4ap9bbCHips7P4RQqhamT7kbvNX6sFnLpcQeG35aXZjaKeVFX-FLlSKbf5YWmMrqC/w300-h400/321305563_713442326760490_3405092946848322411_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">December 24, 2023</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Christmas Eve </span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Isaiah 9:2-7</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 96</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Titus 2:11-14</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Luke 2:1-20</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Christmas Reenactors </span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merry Christmas!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Now, I admit to being biased, but I think that there is nothing better than Christmas here at St. Thomas’.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Of course, this doesn’t just happen.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just like every year in the run-up to Christmas, it has been crunch time around here. But this year, because of the calendar – when the Fourth Sunday of Advent and Christmas Eve are the same day – well, this year, crunch time has been more crunched than ever.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, as usual, so many people have been incredibly generous and have worked so hard:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The parishioners who stuck around today’s 10:00 service and beautifully – and amazingly quickly - transformed our church from Advent to Christmas.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> The choir members who were here singing Advent hymns this morning and are back with us to sing much-loved Christmas carols and hymns this afternoon.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> The altar guild members who’ve been shining and washing and pressing like crazy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Members of the church staff who designed and cranked out hundreds and hundreds of bulletins, who got our campus looking its best, and did a whole lot of other, mostly behind the scenes, prep work.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Thanks to all these wonderful people and the many others I haven’t mentioned – thanks to all of you who have brought your joy and excitement - it is yet another beautiful Christmas here at St. Thomas’.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merry Christmas!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In just a few minutes, we will all get to experience the Christmas Tableau, presented by some of the children of our church.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Way better than any sermon, each year our kids make the old and familiar Christmas story new and fresh again.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On the one hand, each year the story is the same – each year there are children dressed as angels and as Mary and Joseph and shepherds and lambs and wise visitors from the East bearing gifts.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, on other hand, well, you know how it is.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just like all of us, just like life itself, kids can sometimes be…unpredictable.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, if you were here last year, you may remember that one of our little lambs apparently decided he would rather be an airplane, happily circling the Nativity scene with outstretched arms.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, why not?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In a way, our children are kind of like historical reenactors – Christmas Reenactors - dressing up and acting out the holy events in Bethlehem, two thousand years ago.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, all of us Christians – each in our own unique and sometimes unpredictable way – we are called to be Christmas reenactors, too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Fortunately, costumes are not required – we don’t need to wear tinsel halos or fluffy wings – we don’t have to carry a shepherd’s crook – and we definitely don’t have to be a flying lamb.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Though, again, if that’s what you’re called to do, I say go for it!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In our own unique and sometimes unpredictable way, are all called to be Christmas Reenactors.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, like the angels, we are meant to give glory to God. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Like the shepherds, we Christmas Reenactors are meant to look for God in unlikely places – especially among families like the Holy Family, swept up by world events, forced to travel far from home, seeking safety for their children.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Like the visitors from the East, we are meant to share our gifts. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Like Joseph, we Christmas Reenactors are called to stand by the people we love, even when we may not fully understand what’s going on with them, even when our loyalty may cost us a whole lot.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Like Mary, we Christmas Reenactors are called to carry Jesus into the world – into a world that is often cold and inhospitable – a world so hungry for love and peace.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And like the newborn Jesus, we Christmas Reenactors are called to accept our vulnerability, placing our hope in the God who never lets go of us, and placing our trust in the many people all around us who are kind and brave and generous.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, I admit my bias, but I can’t imagine anything more beautiful than Christmas at St. Thomas’.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Thanks to the hard work of so many – thanks to your joy and excitement – it is Christmas once again.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And thanks to our children, we are reminded that we are all meant to be Christmas Reenactors, sharing God’s love, like the angels and the shepherds and the wise men, like Joseph and Mary, and like Jesus, our newborn Savior, Messiah, and Lord.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merry Christmas to you all.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen. </span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-6899557463593807792023-12-24T05:14:00.006-05:002023-12-24T11:58:02.018-05:00The Faith and Courage to Carry Jesus Into the World<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnLSggKYV9oaPQDBgPS9homWOITMnvnSGEvEvLXaoxmeph1qN9mEM4ldbDt_9LS62A_pdkHxISO6dei2u7nPtGkw-EnCp4cYwdFDiElvY0thZY4tSJqT9DsvdyLSroS6NtkjhgcGVSS8cd0GXg2zvxnR7i3W_-yxfsWH3n0S7nXkjkWBkLt4U/s1500/Rubble_Nativity_Bethlehem_2023.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnLSggKYV9oaPQDBgPS9homWOITMnvnSGEvEvLXaoxmeph1qN9mEM4ldbDt_9LS62A_pdkHxISO6dei2u7nPtGkw-EnCp4cYwdFDiElvY0thZY4tSJqT9DsvdyLSroS6NtkjhgcGVSS8cd0GXg2zvxnR7i3W_-yxfsWH3n0S7nXkjkWBkLt4U/w400-h300/Rubble_Nativity_Bethlehem_2023.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">December 24, 2023</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The Fourth Sunday of Advent</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 89: 1-4, 19-26</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Romans 16:25-27</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Luke 1:26-38</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">The Faith and Courage to Carry Jesus Into the World</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For the past two Advent Sundays we’ve been hearing about John the Baptist, that powerful and uncompromising prophet who called people to repent, to change their ways, to be dunked in the River Jordan and begin anew.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>John prepared the way for Jesus, declaring that the Kingdom of God was drawing near.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And now this morning, on the Fourth Sunday of Advent, which, you may have noticed, also happens to be December 24th, as close as we can get to Christmas without it actually being Christmas, this morning we go back in time a couple of decades and turn our attention at last to the other central character of Advent: the Virgin Mary.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The passage that Deacon Les just read from the Gospel of Luke is a familiar one.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The story of the Annunciation is a key part of every church Christmas pageant when a child wearing a tinsel halo and fluffy wings stands before a blue-veiled girl playing Mary and says, “Greetings, favored one!”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But although this passage is very familiar, it was only recently that I realized that we’re not really told why Mary is so favored by God.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In fact, we’re told almost nothing about Mary – we don’t know how old she was, or what she looked like, or what kinds of things she was good at or what she enjoyed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We do know that she was a virgin who lived in Nazareth, an unimportant town in Galilee.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We know that she was engaged to Joseph, who was of the house of David. That certainly sounds impressive, yes, but King David had lived a long time ago and by now his descendants were numerous and really just ordinary people.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Joseph was definitely not a prince living in a royal palace.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And we know that Mary had a cousin Elizabeth, who in her old age was miraculously pregnant, carrying the future John the Baptist.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That’s all good and important to know, but we’re still not told why Mary is the favored one, why God chose her to take on the unprecedented, mind-blowing, terrifying responsibility of carrying the Son of God into a cold and inhospitable world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I always want to know more about the people we meet in the Bible – to learn their backstories and what happened to them next. That can be fun and interesting to imagine but the truth is that Scripture tells us everything we really need to know.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And that’s certainly true of Mary.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Why is Mary the favored one?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, when the angel appeared to her and greeted her, our English translation says she was “perplexed.” </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But a better translation of the original Greek would be that she was “terrified.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And who could blame her, right?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mary was terrified. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But this young woman from the sticks didn’t try to run away from the angel.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She didn’t cry out for help.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She didn’t squeeze her eyes shut, desperately hoping that it was all a dream.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No, Mary stayed right where she was.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And when she heard the most amazing message from the angel, she must have known that she was being asked to do something very hard and dangerous, something that would be awfully difficult to explain to Joseph and everybody else, something that would cost her - and her fiancée – dearly.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But Mary didn’t suggest that the angel should try someone else – you know, maybe ask the girl who lives across the road.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> No. Mary says, yes.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Let it be with me according to your word.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And in that moment we learn everything we need to know about Mary.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God favors her because she is a person of the greatest faith and courage – and she’ll need every bit of that faith and courage to carry Jesus into a world that already had enough kings, thank you very much, the powers that be who will want to get rid of this king of the Jews, right from the start.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And eventually, those powers that be will get rid him, all right. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Or, so it seemed. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And Mary, the favored woman of faith and courage, she will have to summon the strength to watch her son die in a horrible and shameful way, still trusting in the long-ago promise of the angel, believing that somehow her son would reign forever.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mary was favored for her faith and courage.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You’ve probably seen on the news or read in the paper that, because of the horrific war between Israel and Hamas, the Christian leaders of Bethlehem decided to cancel this year’s Christmas festivities.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There will be no huge crowds of pilgrims and tourists flocking to the place of Jesus’ birth.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You may have also seen that this year the Lutheran church in Bethlehem created a very different, painfully stark, nativity scene.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Instead of resting peacefully in a charming straw-lined manger, the Baby Jesus lies amid smashed concrete, just like children lie among the rubble in Gaza and in so many war-torn places around the world, just like many children live in poverty and hopelessness right here in our own country.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Frankly, you know things are pretty bad when the Christians of Bethlehem feel like they have to essentially cancel Christmas.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And during these hard days – hard days for the world and for many of us - we may feel perplexed, or terrified, or angry, or sad, or maybe just exhausted by it all.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Yet, Mary’s faith and courage is available to us, too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God gives us the faith and courage to carry Jesus into our cold and inhospitable world, right here and right now.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For example, we carried Jesus into the world with each gift we donated to the Christmas Extravaganza – each gift that we shared, sorted, wrapped, and delivered.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our Afghan friends have endured so much rubble, survived so much suffering. They’re not Christians, of course, and nobody is trying to convert them – but we carried Jesus right into their lives with the many bags of clothing and other gifts they received from us – people they will probably never meet, people they’ll never really be able to thank.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And our friends at St. Mark’s On The Hill in Pikesville, during a time of transition and uncertainty, are boldly carrying Jesus into the world by restarting their food pantry – carrying Jesus right into the rubble of poverty and hunger, offering food to fill the belly, sharing hope to fill the soul.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, we are now as close as we can get to Christmas without it actually being Christmas.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At last, we’ve turned our attention to the Virgin Mary.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We may not know very much about her but we know all that we need to know.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mary was favored because she had the faith and courage to carry Jesus into a cold and inhospitable world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And in our own time and place, God gives us that same faith and courage, too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-89138630710990791902023-12-17T05:23:00.002-05:002023-12-19T08:24:33.174-05:00Making An Old Way New Again<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwmg-Ps_Dm9o8IA_5p6Tk8FbpTYBT6B2HkyXeBnjKsLEV1XhuosAvjG9JAHJYF_a8E5MrheI6wMzuOnR7m69bkLrPz1DB3NLHMQ8Q9Ne166jIp9Z14wGKMHPHfaW-LREHH5mfOjBebfiWM3H2VG1Zr0uXKWhWMoT4RJWmbDWygIckTac1TQT9a/s2048/408192469_7007242979310717_630325601967164552_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwmg-Ps_Dm9o8IA_5p6Tk8FbpTYBT6B2HkyXeBnjKsLEV1XhuosAvjG9JAHJYF_a8E5MrheI6wMzuOnR7m69bkLrPz1DB3NLHMQ8Q9Ne166jIp9Z14wGKMHPHfaW-LREHH5mfOjBebfiWM3H2VG1Zr0uXKWhWMoT4RJWmbDWygIckTac1TQT9a/w400-h225/408192469_7007242979310717_630325601967164552_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">December 17, 2023</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The Third Sunday of Advent</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Canticle 15: The Song of Mary</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 Thessalonians 5:16-24</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">John 1:6-8, 19-28</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Making An Old Way New Again</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Last Monday evening, after getting over Covid, I attended a very impressive event at Greater Harvest Baptist Church on Saratoga Street, in West Baltimore.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was an action hosted by BUILD (“Baltimoreans United in Leadership Development”), which has been doing the hard and good work of community organizing in Baltimore for decades.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As you may have seen in the paper or on the news, BUILD has partnered with the City and with the Greater Baltimore Committee on a bold plan to address the thousands of vacant properties in Baltimore City – buildings that are dangerous and drag down entire neighborhoods. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m really not knowledgeable enough to evaluate the merits of the plan, but it was inspiring to be with well over 500 people – Christians, Muslims, Jews, other people of goodwill – who remain committed to a city that has suffered so much for so long.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Now, it just so happens that BUILD is a sister organization of Jersey City Together, which I was involved with back home.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so on Monday, I was once again reminded of the similarities between Baltimore and my hometown. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just like there are two Baltimores – some prosperous and beautiful neighborhoods and also areas of near-total devastation and despair – there are two Jersey Citys – there’s the impossibly expensive real estate along the Hudson River – the Gold Coast, it’s sometimes called - and an inner city that continues to struggle with familiar and persistent and heartbreaking problems.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Both Baltimore and Jersey City were once industrial powerhouses, providing reliable, if often dangerous and tedious, blue collar employment to many thousands of people.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And both cities were once great railroad towns.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just a few decades ago, what is now the Gold Coast was occupied by half-abandoned rail yards and warehouses. And a few decades before that, every day many thousands of people poured into Jersey City on the Jersey Central, the B & O, the Pennsylvania, and other once mighty railroads – and then hopped on a ferry over to New York.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Maybe some of you remember doing just that.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In the neighborhood where I grew up there was a little spur line, just a couple of blocks from our house.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As a kid, it was always exciting when the railroad crossing bells would ring and a freight train would rumble by.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Today that’s all gone – all that’s left is an irregularly-sized strip of land, a kind of no man’s land where I’m sure kids hang out, just like some kids hung out “on the tracks” when I was little.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, this is a longwinded way of saying, maybe it was inevitable that I would be interested in trains.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Back in the 90’s I spent a lot of time traveling around different parts of New Jersey, photographing remnants of the Jersey Central Railroad.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And now thanks to the Internet, it’s possible to belong to different online groups of people with similar interests, abandoned rail lines, old train stations.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I recently find one group that’s a little different, though.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Rather than documenting railroad ruins, instead of discovering relics of long lost routes, this group is documenting the surprising rebirth of a line in New Jersey that has been out of service for decades – it’s called the Freehold Secondary.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so for several months, from afar, I’ve been watching this amazing progress, as brush was cleared and old tracks and ties removed, as gravel ballast and new ties and tracks have been firmly planted, getting ready for the trains that will be rolling again soon.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The workers have been making a way – not a new way – but making an old way new again.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Making an old way new again.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Today, on the Third Sunday of Advent, we switch our liturgical color from blue to rose.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s a symbolic lightening up, signaling that the Advent days of preparation are drawing to a close.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Rejoice, because soon – very soon, actually – it will be Christmas!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This week we get to spend a little more time with John the Baptist, the powerful prophet who declared it was time to repent – time to turn around - because the Kingdom of God was drawing near.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>John the Baptist fascinates me because then, as now, people really didn’t like being told they were on the wrong track. But John doesn’t sugarcoat his message – not at all – and yet the people still come in huge numbers.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Deep down, they know they’re heading the wrong direction – they know that they need a new start.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, no surprise, John’s big crowds drew the notice of the religious authorities in Jerusalem. And, as we heard in today’s gospel lesson, they send a fact-finding mission to learn just what John is up to.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And what they learn is that John is not Elijah and he’s also not the Messiah.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>John declares his mission by quoting the Prophet Isaiah. John is the one crying out in the wilderness, “Make straight the way of the Lord.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>John prepares the way of Jesus by cutting down the weeds of sin and delusion.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>John prepares the way of Jesus by calling people to repent – to change their ways – to be dunked in the River Jordan and begin anew.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>John prepares the way of Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And the other main Advent character, the Virgin Mary, whose song we said today in place of a psalm, she prepares the way of Jesus by quite literally carrying him into the world - into a cold and inhospitable world, carrying the Son of God into a world where the powers that be are out to get him, right from the start.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And later, after the first Easter morning, the way of Jesus – the way of love and sacrifice - will be well traveled by the apostles and by Christians down through the ages, including the hearty and faithful band of “forest inhabitants” who built this beautiful church on the highest ground they could find.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, you know, the way of Jesus – the way of love and sacrifice – is kind of like a railroad right-of-way. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If the trains stop running, if maintenance is deferred, the weeds quickly take over, burying and hiding the tracks.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And it’s the same with the way of Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If we neglect the way, it too can be buried, lost, and forgotten.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Over the past couple of years, one of the key themes here at St. Thomas’ has been renewal.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We haven’t invented a new way.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Kind of like those workers laying track on the Freehold Secondary, we have made an old way new again.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>With God’s help, of course.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We made an old way new again at the Christmas Extravaganza on Tuesday night, following a tradition that’s now more than two decades old, but which this year noticeably included quite a few new people, new to outreach, new to the parish, who brought their own gifts and ideas.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We made an old way new again by reimagining our Youth Confirmation program, making it less like school and more of an experience – giving our wonderful young people the opportunity to not just learn about the church but to be the church, to be who they really are.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, I’d suggest the BUILD action on Monday night was making an old way new again – Christians and people of other faiths or maybe no faith but goodwill, gathering together to endorse a kind of complicated plan which may or may not work, we’ll see, but really we gathered to choose hope – choosing Advent hope even in the midst of so much fear and despair.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This is the way of Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This is the way of love and service.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s the way prepared by the Virgin Mary and John the Baptist.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s an old way that we are called to make new again.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-9178994429220790102023-12-03T13:49:00.002-05:002023-12-04T08:52:13.577-05:00Putting On the Armor of Light<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDdWqwdnhGBjAnqvBM_NgXQNCCMwy9kOrZORiCLF4PILaGX6_ohgMcNPaIADN8trrTqwp3DhXUhlDc9KxcuRsvDkzG3pJ8g2JZJMdc8OamRruy_C_K-L01XwweXkYN8yeg9Mvl2QKgze7do__L6POFGg3XDuI1la5vsqfFFToiYF_31nO_TIE0/s4032/IMG_1581.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDdWqwdnhGBjAnqvBM_NgXQNCCMwy9kOrZORiCLF4PILaGX6_ohgMcNPaIADN8trrTqwp3DhXUhlDc9KxcuRsvDkzG3pJ8g2JZJMdc8OamRruy_C_K-L01XwweXkYN8yeg9Mvl2QKgze7do__L6POFGg3XDuI1la5vsqfFFToiYF_31nO_TIE0/w400-h300/IMG_1581.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">December 3, 2023</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year B: The First Sunday of Advent</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Isaiah 64:1-9</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 Corinthians 1:3-9</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Mark 13:24-37</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Putting On the Armor of Light</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’ve mentioned to you before that I am a big believer in the value of weekday worship.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s a lesson that I learned way back at the first church I served as an assistant – a church that offered at least one service of public worship every single day of the year.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Frankly, when I first arrived there that devotion to weekday worship amazed me, and now, after being rector of a couple of churches, it still does.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Although relatively few people attended most of those services – and sometimes it was just the officiant praying alone – I came to appreciate the spiritual value of that daily discipline – the way all of that prayer changes us, in ways both visible and invisible, known and unknown.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And daily worship has a symbolic value, too. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It reminds us that the Christian life is more than something we do for an hour or so on Sundays.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No, following Jesus a 24/7 undertaking, the commitment and adventure of a lifetime.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, finally, offering weekday services is just good stewardship.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We really should use our holy and beautiful and expensive to maintain buildings more than just once or twice a week.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, one of my goals has been to reintroduce weekday worship to St. Thomas’, which we did first by adding the Service of Holy Communion and Anointing on Wednesdays at noon and then introducing Morning Prayer on Thursdays at 9:00.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’ve hoped that eventually we might actually have one service every single day.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m playing kind of a long game here, so I’ve assumed that this would take a while.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But then, world events intervened.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As most of you know, when war broke out between Hamas and Israel, some of us felt the call to step up our prayer life.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>While it’s true that armed conflicts are always raging in different places around the world, this particular war seemed extra dangerous, running the risk of sparking a wider war in the Middle East.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This horrible war also released – or maybe simply uncovered – the old demons of anti-Semitism and Islamophobia.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This brutal conflict and the suffering of so many innocent people tempted so some of us to dehumanize the “other side” – forgetting that we are all beloved children of God – our blood and our tears are made of the same stuff.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so, we stepped up our prayer life by offering The Great Litany, Monday through Friday at noon in the Old School Building.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I chose the Litany because this is a prayer that people have prayed for centuries, especially in times of crisis.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s also an exceptionally comprehensive prayer. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In the Litany, we ask God to deliver us “from all blindness of heart; from pride, vainglory, and hypocrisy; from envy, hatred, and malice; and from all want of charity.”</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We ask God to “make wars to cease in all the world; to give to all nations unity, peace, and concord; and to bestow freedom upon all peoples.”</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And we beseech God “to have mercy upon all mankind.”</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I also chose the Litany because it’s easy: it was already right there in the Prayer Book – no creativity or bulletins were required - and it only takes about twelve minutes to pray aloud, which seemed manageable.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I wasn’t entirely sure if anyone would show up, but most days there has been at least one other person in the Old School Building and for the last few days a good friend of mine, Tina, has been joining us on Zoom all the way from Tallahassee.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sam Shoemaker once wrote, “Prayer may not change things for you, but it sure changes you for things.”</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Prayer may not change things for you, but it sure changes you for things.”</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And that’s been my experience of praying the Great Litany over these weeks.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I can’t say that the world is in any better shape because of our prayers, though you never know.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, I can feel a difference in me – a renewed strength to face the future – a deepened confidence that God is present with us even when everything is a mess, even when the shadows grow very deep.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In the words of today’s collect, our opening prayer, praying the Great Litany each weekday has felt like putting on the “armor of light.”</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Today, the First Sunday of Advent, is the first day of a new church year.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And today, and during many Sundays this year, we’ll be reading and hearing from the Gospel of Mark.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Although, it’s placed after Matthew in the Bible, in fact Mark is the oldest of the four gospels.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Gospel of Mark was written about forty years after the earthly lifetime of Jesus, right around the Year 70, the year when the Romans brutally sacked Jerusalem, destroying much of the city, including the Temple.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Temple was where, in a sense, God was believed to dwell – it was where the Jewish people made sacrifices in order to keep their end of the Covenant – it was simply the heart of Jewish life.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so its destruction was a horrible blow.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In a way that we can’t quite grasp, for Jews of that time, the destruction of the Temple must have seemed like the end of the world.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And at least some Jesus followers thought that the destruction of the Temple was surely a sign that Jesus was about to return, that the Last Day, the Day of Judgment had arrived.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But in his gospel written during this time of turmoil, Mark quotes Jesus as saying that, yes, awful and terrifying things are going to happen, but we do not know when the Last Day will arrive.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, we need to be alert, to be prepared, to keep awake.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We live in a time of deep shadows.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After an all-too-brief ceasefire, after the release of some hostages, the war between Hamas and Israel has resumed, and the risk of a wider conflict remains – and the old demons of anti-Semitism and Islamophobia are still on the loose.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Russia’s assault on Ukraine grinds on, causing so much suffering, and also threatening a larger and even more devastating conflict.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Meanwhile, many of us face our own personal challenges and sorrows.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And across our country, rightly or wrongly, so many have lost trust in our institutions and leaders.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We’ve lost trust in each other.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And I still haven’t met anyone who’s excited about the next presidential election.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s tempting to give into despair.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, God does not let go of us, no matter what.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, while we may not know the future, we do know Jesus.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, during Advent and always, we keep awake.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We offer loving service to people in need, as we will next week at the Christmas Extravaganza.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, most of all, we pray – trusting that our prayers will change us - not just here on Sundays but every day – praying the Litany or in whatever way helps us feel God’s closeness.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In a time of deep shadows, we put on the armor of light.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-17196081619205938072023-11-26T05:30:00.003-05:002023-11-26T13:10:30.997-05:00The King Who Serves and Begs<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVDdzOQoMjSPu19X3GMWjy13JQwNODnpGTkJHIbZ5Rp4h6nlv2Fm2SLhBCVLDNVhvk-KRXNUgxH-EHquh3IKwVzLzAPJDoksrGjd09NupfUD2OBmgAiZcN1RmkQP8kbtQdLgRkU8GoejBBCEyfKaLTDw9WR4fdDSa-7gNtNyzPY4AcC2tqrd7/s1024/begging_jesus_statue.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVDdzOQoMjSPu19X3GMWjy13JQwNODnpGTkJHIbZ5Rp4h6nlv2Fm2SLhBCVLDNVhvk-KRXNUgxH-EHquh3IKwVzLzAPJDoksrGjd09NupfUD2OBmgAiZcN1RmkQP8kbtQdLgRkU8GoejBBCEyfKaLTDw9WR4fdDSa-7gNtNyzPY4AcC2tqrd7/w300-h400/begging_jesus_statue.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">November 26, 2023</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year A, Proper 29: The Last Sunday after Pentecost – Christ the King</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 100</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Ephesians 1:15-23</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Matthew 25:31-46</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">The King Who Serves and Begs</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I doubt that any of us who were here on Monday afternoon will ever forget Sandy Martin’s funeral.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This church was just packed with people – we could not have squeezed anyone else into this place – and the overflow seating in the Parish Hall was, well, overflowing.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That extraordinary turnout was an appropriate tribute to such a good man, someone whose life was devoted to family, friends, and community.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And the touching and often funny remembrances by family and friends honored Sandy, and the beautiful music by Wanda and the choir helped to comfort us in our sorrow.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The gospel lesson we chose was the one we almost always use at funerals.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The setting is the Last Supper as Jesus tries to reassure his friends that death is not the end for him, not the end for their friendship, not the end of their love.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus tells the disciples that he is going on ahead to prepare a place for them – and that they know the way to that place of reunion.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I always love that out of all the disciples it’s only our friend the Apostle Thomas who is brave enough – honest enough - to admit, “Lord, we do not know the way to the place where you are going.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And then Thomas asks, “How can we know the way?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And Jesus responds, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I doubt that cleared things up much for Thomas and the others. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But later, after the first Easter, after they knew that Jesus had in fact defeated death, the disciples must have reflected back to the Last Supper, recalling and better understanding the lessons Jesus had taught them.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus had blessed the bread and wine, promising to be with them – to be with us – each time we gather around the table and remember him.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus had shocked them by getting up from the table and washing their dirty and smelly feet – teaching them that this is what it looks like to follow him – that this is loving service – and commanding us to follow his example.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The way of Jesus is the way of love and sacrifice.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Christ is a King who serves.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Today we arrive at the last Sunday of the Church Year, the Last Sunday after Pentecost, the last Sunday of the little Pre-Advent season that we’ve been reflecting on during the last few weeks.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Today is the Feast of Christ the King.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>During our Pre-Advent we’ve been reminded of the Last Day, the Day of Judgment.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We’ve been nudged to get going because we don’t have all the time in the world, and we certainly don’t want to be like the bridesmaids who failed to plan ahead and ran out of oil for their lamps.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And we certainly don’t want to be like the slave who was given one talent and buried it out of an abundance of caution and fear.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>During our Pre-Advent we’ve been reminded that we will be judged and held accountable for how we have lived our lives, how we have shared our zillion blessings.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And that theme crescendos in today’s lesson from the Gospel of Matthew, where Jesus teaches that the people in need – the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the imprisoned – they are Jesus himself.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The people in line early on a Saturday morning at the Community Crisis Center – the people who show up at Paul’s Place looking for a good meal and a fresh start – the children at Owings Mills Elementary School who don’t have their own bed or a kitchen table – they are in fact Christ the King himself.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At the Last Supper, Jesus dropped to his knees and washed the feet of his friends, doing the lowly, stinky work of a servant, teaching us that this is what love looks like.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Christ is the King who serves.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And today Jesus teaches us that he can be found in and among the people desperately looking for help.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Christ is the King who begs.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m not sure which image is more unsettling or more challenging.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For me, one of the highlights of the week is always our Wednesday service of Holy Communion and Anointing.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After the service, most of us stick around for Bible Study when we look at the upcoming Gospel lesson.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Because of Thanksgiving, last week our numbers were down a little but, as usual, we had a conversation that was thoughtful, lively, and challenging.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We talked about Jesus’ hard message of giving to people in need.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We wondered how to do that so we still had enough to sustain ourselves.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>How can we give while also keeping ourselves safe in a world that is full of dangers?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I didn’t have any easy answers to those questions or concerns.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, I did say that it’s not our place to decide who is deserving and undeserving of help – and that, at the very least, we should strive to really see the person who is asking for help – to see them as a person beloved by God – to see Christ present in and through them.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Big words, right?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Much easier to say than actually do.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, my plan for after the Wednesday service was to make a few phone calls, catch up on a little paperwork, maybe try to straighten up my messy desk, and then head home early for a jump on Thanksgiving.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>My office, as most of you know, gives me a good view of people making their way up to the office door.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, on Wednesday afternoon as I was talking on the phone, I saw someone I didn’t recognize come along and ring the bell.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A minute or two later, our Parish Administrator Jane came to my door but saw that I was on the phone.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When I ended my conversation a couple of minutes later, Jane reappeared and said that the man I had seen coming up the walk was hoping to speak with me, looking for some help.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jane said, he seems really nice and I hope you will help him.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, I ushered the man into my office and we sat down across from each other.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I introduced myself and asked for his name.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He said, “Thomas,” which both made me smile… and also made me suspicious.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You’ve come to a church named for St. Thomas on a street named St. Thomas to talk to a priest named Thomas and your name is Thomas?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Hmm.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I asked what was going on and he told me his troubles – he had been laid off from his accounting job and he and his wife were having trouble providing for his two young children.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They had fallen behind on some bills, most especially their BGE bill.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Was it possible for us to offer him some help?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I confess that I asked him if he happened to have his BGE bill with him. No doubt anticipating that request, he did and handed it to me.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, sure enough, there was a rather large amount past due.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, of course, the name on the bill was “Thomas.” </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Long ago, a different Thomas thought that he did not know the way.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But he knew.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus had taught him, just like Jesus teaches us, that the way is to follow his example, washing as many feet as we can - offering loving service.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And Jesus also teaches us that when we offer loving service, we’re not just helping the man behind on his bills, we’re offering loving service to Jesus himself.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The end of one year and the start of another are reminders that we do not have all the time in the world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, as we prepare to begin again, may we remember that:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Christ is the King who serves and Christ is the King who begs.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-82205875634953663632023-11-20T17:53:00.001-05:002023-11-20T17:53:27.951-05:00Easter For Sandy<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh39-3JT9XmGaS9kVDcnO9043JOQLqleuaXooWM2qtXnUvhDhap3RLiMnnkGhrRk7BLgHX1ROMwet1LrvhByqVY2qJyxksVCJsdPvjPV67sZyblCEfd560OpkL6lZQHC1OZg-FokncH7LC3odRBYK7YxX3hUjV2oGkYNZNG6FcAmSQYwQo4a6BR/s4032/IMG_1564.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh39-3JT9XmGaS9kVDcnO9043JOQLqleuaXooWM2qtXnUvhDhap3RLiMnnkGhrRk7BLgHX1ROMwet1LrvhByqVY2qJyxksVCJsdPvjPV67sZyblCEfd560OpkL6lZQHC1OZg-FokncH7LC3odRBYK7YxX3hUjV2oGkYNZNG6FcAmSQYwQo4a6BR/w400-h300/IMG_1564.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">November 20, 2023</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">The Funeral of Alexander “Sandy” Martin</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">John 14:1-6a</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Easter For Sandy</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Looking out at the church just before I read the gospel lesson, I thought, “This looks just like Easter!”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And that’s what today is: Easter for Sandy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The setting of the Bible passage that I read is the Last Supper.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus has gathered with his closest friends for one, final meal.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus had been predicting his death for some time but his friends could not – or would not – accept that someone they loved so much was going to die.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We know only too well what that’s like.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But at the table one last time, the hard truth was beginning to sink in.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so, with time running out, Jesus teaches his friends a few most important lessons.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He gets up from the table and washes their feet, shocking them, teaching them that this is how we are to love one another, by serving each other.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus blesses the bread and wine and says that this is his body and blood and that he will be with us each time we are at the table and we remember him.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, finally, as we heard today, Jesus tries to reassure his friends that he is going on ahead to prepare a place for them – a place for us – where we will all someday be reunited.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, not only that, Jesus says we know the way to the place where he is going.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s only our friend St. Thomas who is honest enough, bold enough, to admit, “Lord, we do not know the way to the place where you are going.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And then Thomas asks, “How can we know the way?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And Jesus gives the answer, “I am the way.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For us, Jesus is the way – and the way of Jesus is giving away our lives in love and service.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus is the way but the way of Jesus is not a one-size-fits-all way.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just like all the saints of God in the charming hymn that we sang today – each of us has to discover our own unique way along the way.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That’s the challenge and adventure of faith and life.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As we’ve heard so powerfully in today’s beautiful remembrances, our beloved brother Sandy walked the way of Jesus by being an amazingly loving husband, father, and grandfather.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And Sandy walked the way of Jesus by being a loyal and faithful friend.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m sorry that I knew Sandy for much less time than probably all of you, but he touched my life, too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sandy and Beaumont were two of the first St. Thomas’ people that my wife Sue and I met, even before we moved here.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Beaumont and Glen Cole were a two-person transition team, given the job to get us ready for our move to Maryland.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One time, we were having a Zoom meeting when suddenly Sandy leaned into the picture, beside Beaumont. He said,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Hey, Tom! Do you play golf?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I said, “No, I’m sorry, I don’t.” </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And immediately I thought, oh geez, I haven’t even gotten there yet and I’ve already disappointed this guy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, as you all know, Sandy was an excellent reader of people and he had a very quick wit.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so without missing a beat, he said to me, “Good! You’re lucky. Golf’s an expensive hobby. You’re saving a lot of money!’</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I immediately felt better.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And I also learned a lot about Sandy in that moment: his sensitivity, his kindness, and his sense of humor. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Later, Sandy and Beaumont gave us a memorable tour of the neighborhood, driving us out into the country, pointing out where Sandy had grown up, taking pride in all the natural beauty, and, I think also having some fun with two city people who were a little stunned by a place that seemed to have way more horses than people.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sandy and Beaumont embraced us as new friends – what a great gift.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Later, there were a couple of times when Sandy and I had some pretty serious conversations about faith – it’s safe to say that, probably like all of us, he had some questions to ask God about why things are the way they are.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The last time I saw Sandy – a couple of weeks ago - he was not feeling well at all.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But even then, he was still very much himself – asking me how I was doing, how things were going at the church, how was the fundraising going?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, for him, the hardest part of all of this – much harder than illness itself – was the idea of leaving behind his beloved family – his family, which was truly the greatest gift he ever gave - the greatest gift he ever received.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That was how Sandy walked the way of Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And now, Sandy’s beautiful journey along the way has come to an end.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He has slipped into the safe and secure arms of the God who dreamed him up in the first place, shared him with all of us, and loved and supported him throughout his life.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, for us, the journey continues until we are reunited.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Fortunately, thanks to Jesus, and thanks to Sandy, we know the way.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-50262765837749885902023-11-19T05:29:00.007-05:002023-11-19T05:29:50.418-05:00Our Zillion Blessings<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj477WQ8i80Wcu333fvRkiMPNdZu-KE3qZWESN_JDbII2pJOle1870SVPWFW0Wh2y3G1L4G0wO9R_SYAodXsdrzgjkWxm7_hA2MUTrSap4xn7a11Sic01IVEwfX1NPLuQnbh4RvNDfuBniRscJ115nVsfVcQu3qPC05kjhTfsNgJ08FFx5uFuIg/s4032/IMG_1560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj477WQ8i80Wcu333fvRkiMPNdZu-KE3qZWESN_JDbII2pJOle1870SVPWFW0Wh2y3G1L4G0wO9R_SYAodXsdrzgjkWxm7_hA2MUTrSap4xn7a11Sic01IVEwfX1NPLuQnbh4RvNDfuBniRscJ115nVsfVcQu3qPC05kjhTfsNgJ08FFx5uFuIg/w300-h400/IMG_1560.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">November 19, 2023</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year A, Proper 28: The Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Judges 4:1-7</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 123</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 Thessalonians 5:1-11</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Matthew 25:14-30</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Our Zillion Blessings</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If you were here last Sunday, you may remember that we began a kind of seasonal change.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Although the holy season of Advent doesn’t begin for two more weeks, our Bible readings and prayers and even our music are getting us ready by drawing our attention to the Last Day – the Day of Judgment.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Last Sunday, we heard Jesus’ Parable of the Wise and Foolish Bridesmaids.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The wise bridesmaids had enough oil for their lamps while the foolish ones were unprepared – not ready for the arrival of the bridegroom.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The foolish bridesmaids made a big mistake, thinking somehow that they had all the time in the world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And in today’s lesson from the Gospel of Matthew, we pick up right where we left off last week.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We hear another challenging parable from Jesus – what’s often called the Parable of the Talents.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Some scholars think that this parable was originally an economic critique from Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The character of the master – demanding, shrewd, cruel - would’ve been familiar to Jesus and the people of his time and place.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, we also know his type, don’t we?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The slave who received the one talent is definitely not wrong when he says, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed…”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, if there was any doubt about the master’s harshness, casting into the outer darkness the slave who buried his one talent settles the question once and for all.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In our own time, when employees are often mistreated and casually cast off, I’d say that this economic critique still holds up.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, by the time of the Gospel of Matthew was written, a couple of generations after Jesus’ earthly lifetime, some early Christians heard something else, something even deeper, in this parable.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We don’t know exactly how much a “talent” was worth in the ancient world, but it was a lot – in fact, a “talent” may just be a shorthand expression for “a lot of money” like we might say, “a million dollars” or, with inflation, maybe “a zillion dollars.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Early Christians began to recognize that Jesus might not only be talking about money but might be teaching us about the blessings that we have received – the “zillion” blessings we have received. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our “talents” – our blessings – come not from a harsh master but from a loving God.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, nevertheless, we are expected to use our blessings wisely – to multiply our blessings, for the good of the world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Each of us has the obligation to invest our blessings, not by burying them, not by hoarding them, not by zealously guarding them, but by sharing what we’ve been given.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, together, we the church, have a sacred responsibility – a holy expectation - to share the zillion blessings we have been given.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As I mentioned to you last week, Sandy Martin was one of the first people we met here at St. Thomas’. Sue and I met him and his beloved Beaumont even before we moved here. Their warm embrace helped to convince us that this was the right place for us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And Sandy’s death has gotten me thinking back to my first encounters with St. Thomas’, which were on paper and video.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And somewhere in the parish profile or in the videos you put together – I didn’t have time to go looking - this parish expressed the hope that it – we – could be a spiritual resource not only for our parishioners, but for the whole community.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You recognized that St. Thomas’ has been blessed in a zillion ways – and we certainly have – we’re the slave who has been given five talents.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And it’s our duty and obligation and privilege to share as much as we can with the people beyond our walls.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Of course, parishioners like Sandy and Beaumont and so many of you have been doing that all along – it’s built into the DNA of this place – just look at the Thanksgiving bags that are currently crowding the Old School Building.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, I want to share with you just a couple of recent examples of us sharing some of our “talents” – our zillion blessings – with people “out there.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Many of you will remember that a few weeks ago, Janice Mabry, the wife of Curtis Mabry, the longtime golf pro at the Greenspring Club, died. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Although Janice and Curtis were not parishioners, it felt very appropriate for her funeral to be here.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In her funeral homily, Caroline Stewart noted the longstanding close relationship between “the Club” and St. Thomas’ and how right it was for the community to gather here to celebrate Janice and to comfort Curtis and his family.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That day, St. Thomas’ was a spiritual resource for the whole community.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Right around the same time as Janice’s funeral, we received an inquiry through our website about possibly having another funeral here.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A woman named Lisa wrote to tell us that her daughter had recently given birth to twins – Summer’lynn and River’lynn – but, so very sadly, after only four days of life, River’lynn had died.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Lisa wrote that she and her family were new to this community and hadn’t found a church, yet. Would we be open to having River’lynn’s funeral here?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I wrote back to Lisa and we set up a time to meet.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Several family members joined us, including Summer’lynn and her mom.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I have to tell you, it felt like a little village of love had come to visit.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We had a beautiful and sad conversation, learning a little bit about each other, and talking about what River’lynn’s service might look like.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At one point, I asked Lisa why had she reached out to us. Why St. Thomas’?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And her answer was, she liked what she saw on our website – how we emphasized that everyone is welcome here – and, I think, she wanted to see for herself and her family if that claim was actually true.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Would we really be welcome here?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, River’lynn’s sad and beautiful service was here yesterday afternoon, followed by a small reception in the Parish Hall.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jane, our Parish Administrator, spent a good part of the week creating a brand new service bulletin, since we had no existing template appropriate for someone so young.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Roz created a beautiful pink quilt, which we gave to River’lynn’s mom, and another parishioner dropped off a plant to give to the family.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>John was here to assist. Wanda played - and Jon and Rachel sang – all so beautifully, just as they did for Janice, just as they will for Sandy tomorrow, just as they always do.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Chris gave up a good chunk of his Saturday to set up for the reception, live-stream the service, and then clean up and get us ready for today.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was yet another another busy weekend for the Altar Guild.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And I hope that our sharing of just a few of our zillion blessings was a comfort for River’lynn’s family – a reminder of God’s love – a sign that God really does not let go of us, no matter what.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I decided to share these two stories with you not to toot our own horn. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Frankly, I doubt Jesus is impressed – he would say that we were only doing what we ought to be doing.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> But I wanted to share these stories as signs of what really is possible - examples of us heading in the right direction, of us being a servant church, with God’s help.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We really have been given a whole lot of “talents” and we know that God calls us – expects us – to invest them by sharing them with others, people we’ve known for a long time and people we’ve never met.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, this little pre-Advent season is a pointed reminder to get going, because we do not have all the time in the world to share our zillion blessings.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-26195321391027462692023-11-18T16:20:00.003-05:002023-11-18T16:20:34.662-05:00God's Heartbreak<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtMBtMhcy-6m02qvLjHWVK7dqlZgCAq-jsKbX-3ElEJD81nOvK-GBFCsIf_Bmsd8nzFfRO6TSNV1EUW77ZEyd3UL26RCfQGeMOt0ezg2KcEVEPOvqAghCkompkU4yXL5Do_1AMjiu7xXNZvLkm4wZig1w_LIYOAWwtuP0xha6b315z7nN-0v2/s4032/IMG_1561.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtMBtMhcy-6m02qvLjHWVK7dqlZgCAq-jsKbX-3ElEJD81nOvK-GBFCsIf_Bmsd8nzFfRO6TSNV1EUW77ZEyd3UL26RCfQGeMOt0ezg2KcEVEPOvqAghCkompkU4yXL5Do_1AMjiu7xXNZvLkm4wZig1w_LIYOAWwtuP0xha6b315z7nN-0v2/w400-h300/IMG_1561.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">November 18, 2023</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">The Funeral of River’lynn Cartagena</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Romans 8:31-39</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 23</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Mark 10:13-16</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">God’s Heartbreak</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This has been – and will continue to be - such a tender time for all of you.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s a time to mourn the death of River’lynn while also celebrating the arrival and survival of Summer’lynn.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, now that we’ve met you all and you’ve given us the privilege of having River’lynn’s service here, we at St. Thomas’ now also share in your grief and also your joy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And we are here for you, not only today, but, hopefully, long into the future, whenever you need us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You know, when terrible things happen, it’s natural for us to ask, why? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And that’s especially true for those of us who say we are people of faith, who believe in a loving and merciful God.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If God is loving and merciful, like we believe, then why does God permit such sorrow, such loss?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Whenever I reflect on this difficult question, I think of someone who was a pretty famous pastor some years ago.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>His name was William Sloane Coffin and he led a large church in New York City called Riverside Church.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, one stormy night, Rev. Coffin’s 24 year-old son, Alex, drove off a bridge in Boston and drowned.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A horrible tragedy – an unspeakable loss.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amazingly, only ten days after Alex’s death, Rev. Coffin stood up in front of his congregation and offered a eulogy for his son.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He recognized that some people were, naturally enough, wondering why God would allow something so awful to happen – and, not only that, some people even believed that God had somehow been behind Alex’s swerve off the bridge and his death.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, Rev. Coffin was having none of that.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He stood up in front of his congregation and said something that I’ve never forgotten since the first time I read it. He said:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“…when the waves closed over the sinking car, God’s heart was the first of all our hearts to break.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“God’s heart was the first of all our hearts to break.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“God’s heart was the first of all our hearts to break.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And God’s heart breaks not only for Alex and his family, but for all suffering people in a world where, unfortunately, things go wrong all the time.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At the first moment, before anyone knew what was happening to River’lynn, God’s heart broke.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And God’s heart continues to break for River’lynn and for Amanda and Edwin and for all of you, for all of us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, here’s the thing:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God’s heartbreak opened the just the right space in God’s heart for River’lynn – a perfectly safe space – a space with so much love – the space in God’s heart where River’lynn will spend all eternity loved and loving – the holy space where someday she and Summer’lynn and all of us will be reunited.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, not only that, but God’s heartbreak releases so much love and grace for all of us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And I know that these aren’t just words because I’ve met this family and I’ve seen your love with my own eyes.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God’s heartbreak releases so much love – love that is stronger than death, stronger than anything – love that you’re sharing with Summer’lynn and with each other.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>God’s heartbreak releases so much grace - the grace to stick close to each other – to go on being the beautiful little village that you are – supporting, and caring for each other, now and always. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When tragedy strikes – during a tender time like this - there are no easy answers and no magic words.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, when things go wrong, the heart of our loving and merciful God really is the first of all our hearts to break.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And God’s heartbreak made room in God’s heart for River’lynn.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And God’s heartbreak gives us the love and grace we need as we continue on our journey, together.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-29884113811219018392023-11-12T13:47:00.001-05:002023-11-12T13:49:32.328-05:00Preparing for the Day When Everything Seems to Change<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rNcTlbQdzzOpow0y4dIj1hBhCC6Zu-ARaJfCtVXn0jsbXwK-CvhN4CWsKyfBHw79RjpcV0U1diqF_vxuxLWd08dufhii_bZ31GQUEiRWTHq-uBk8_-peX-qOD1dlpKtfmSbEW70-LNHnG9X3pYikocC1bB3TTXQU4mdO6dRvE-FUzswc1C7z/s4032/IMG_0349%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rNcTlbQdzzOpow0y4dIj1hBhCC6Zu-ARaJfCtVXn0jsbXwK-CvhN4CWsKyfBHw79RjpcV0U1diqF_vxuxLWd08dufhii_bZ31GQUEiRWTHq-uBk8_-peX-qOD1dlpKtfmSbEW70-LNHnG9X3pYikocC1bB3TTXQU4mdO6dRvE-FUzswc1C7z/w400-h300/IMG_0349%20(1).jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">November 12, 2023</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year A, Proper 27: The Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Pentecost</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Joshua 24:1-3a, 14-25</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 78:1-7</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 Thessalonians 4:13-18</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Matthew 25:1-13</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Preparing for the Day When Everything Seems to Change</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m not sure why, but this year the switch back to Standard Time has really hit me.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Part of the problem is that our cats have definitely not grasped the concept of “falling back” one hour. Their internal clocks are still pretty much where they were a week ago. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So much for that extra hour of sleep.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Gradually, they are adjusting. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We hope.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But it’s not just the cats.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Lots of people struggle with the time change – apparently, there are more car crashes – including right out here at our confusing and dangerous intersection. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And the evening darkness can feel very gloomy indeed, especially these days when the world is so deeply shadowed by war and fear and hate.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I think the suddenness of the time change gets to us, too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One day it’s still kind of bright at 7:00 PM and then the next day at the same time it’s like the middle of the night. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, although there is plenty of advanced warning, maybe this time change unsettles us because it reminds us of how life can sometimes be: without advanced warning, everything can suddenly change, thrusting us from light to shadow.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, it feels like it was six months ago, but, actually, it was only about six weeks ago – October 1, to be exact – when a whole lot of St. Thomas’ parishioners and friends – many of us wearing our sharp-looking orange St. Thomas’ Orioles shirts – made our way down to Camden Yards for the final game of what had been an extraordinary season.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The weather was perfect. And we – or at least, certainly I – expected a great game – really looked forward to a big Oriole win that would propel the team into playoff glory.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, at least it was a beautiful day!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Unfortunately, our guys did not play well at all against the Red Sox, foreshadowing the misery to come in the playoffs.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Anyway, after the game many of us were making our way through the throngs of people, making the way-too-long trek back to where our bus was parked when, suddenly, as many of you know, my mother fell.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She hit her head on the sidewalk cement.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There was blood. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And people gathered around – some trying to help and others just gawking.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Eventually the first aid person arrived and began to tend to my mom.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And then my mother was taken away in the ambulance.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was a frightening experience for my family – quite a sudden jolt from the joy of St. Thomas’ at the Orioles to this moment of suffering and fear - and I remember thinking, here it is: this is one of those moments when everything seems to change.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> I thought, now we will forever mark time differently, before and after this fall.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Most of us know only too well what this is like, and some of us have recently endured these horrible moments of fear and sorrow.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The phone ringing in the middle of the night.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The doctor sitting across from us, looking uncomfortable, trying to find the best way to deliver bad news.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The revelation of a long-hidden secret.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Harsh words uttered in anger or hurt, words that can never be taken back or forgotten.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One wrong step.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The day when everything seems to change.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Fortunately, and amazingly, considering how terrible things first looked, my mom was not badly hurt in her fall.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just a few bruised ribs – painful but manageable.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As I’ve joked with some of you, it’s a good thing that we Jersey City people are so hardheaded!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But that close call was an unexpected gift for me and my family – yet another reminder to not take anything – anyone - for granted – to remember that, actually, we don’t have all the time in the world – a call to treasure who and what we’ve been given – and, maybe, to better prepare for the day when everything really does change.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Although it’s not as sudden as the “fall back” to Standard Time or a stumble onto the sidewalk, there is a change – a seasonal change - underway here in church.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We have now entered a kind of pre-Advent season, a couple of weeks of lead-up to the First Sunday of Advent, which, this year is December 3.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Now, I love Advent almost us much as I love Baptism and an active church.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But even I sometimes forget that there are two sides of Advent – there’s the preparation for Christmas, of course – everybody knows that – but there’s the other side of Advent that we don’t talk about so much – the preparation for the Last Day, the Day of Judgment.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In fact, Advent used to be much more like Lent, a more penitential season, a time of sacrifice and repentance that helped to get us spiritually ready, both for Christmas and for the Last Day.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And we hear that more austere tone in today’s Parable of the Wise and Foolish Bridesmaids – the bridesmaids don’t have all the time in the world – and when the door is closed, it’s closed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And during Advent itself we’ll certainly hear that austere tone from one of the central characters of Advent, John the Baptist, and his loud and clear call to repent, to turn around, before it’s too late.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This year, when the world is shadowed by war and fear and hate, I think we should have a more Lent-like Advent – to prepare, with God’s help, for the day when everything seems to change.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, maybe, even in the busyness of the so-called “holiday season,” we can carve out a little more time and space for God – to make even just a little “Quiet Time” for prayer and reflection.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>During Advent, we can repent what needs to be repented.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We can ask forgiveness when we’ve messed up and offer absolution when we’ve been wronged. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We can tell the people we love that we love them.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, before the great and joyful holiday feasts, we can sacrifice or even fast a little, not to punish ourselves but to remind ourselves that we are totally dependent on God.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Which is a very good thing, because even on the day when everything seems to change, God’s love is constant.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And when we fall, God never lets go of us, no matter what.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen. </span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9584708.post-44279623529827103302023-11-05T13:13:00.004-05:002023-11-05T13:13:54.851-05:00Living Sacraments<div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrROd5PYmPrMsqHf3_WB5T8V6PdlREjzae-zaNU2DRLzuv3sBN_8zcFteb2cUTwSL7xadVMwfiFrFhlZOviOHIbEjER3A40sA12S-E69svwfj6uzBgD_tbTHidpSHD_tgDv4cxu4nZ6HckFl9I8hjSY4QSENILC-ibD6PbDMOZoq7aBG5Jo9j/s2734/IMG_0285.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2050" data-original-width="2734" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrROd5PYmPrMsqHf3_WB5T8V6PdlREjzae-zaNU2DRLzuv3sBN_8zcFteb2cUTwSL7xadVMwfiFrFhlZOviOHIbEjER3A40sA12S-E69svwfj6uzBgD_tbTHidpSHD_tgDv4cxu4nZ6HckFl9I8hjSY4QSENILC-ibD6PbDMOZoq7aBG5Jo9j/w400-h300/IMG_0285.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN29t1VRPnnGCJpnQJjZV5aS3H5LB9Z8sMK7oYHgDgKJufgwCzAoQji4KWbFAMZgm0JjU9FDk7AKbVX6etzDy5P9f9lRc18ju9HbD8OvL2lAFZtLa9J0whzskpKNRx51g3Q-mGNi1aCdpVVZDu-sb8CoqYmdMF4R3ooWce-BDYZ6XZmdJ15vwH/s4032/IMG_1505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2264" data-original-width="4032" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN29t1VRPnnGCJpnQJjZV5aS3H5LB9Z8sMK7oYHgDgKJufgwCzAoQji4KWbFAMZgm0JjU9FDk7AKbVX6etzDy5P9f9lRc18ju9HbD8OvL2lAFZtLa9J0whzskpKNRx51g3Q-mGNi1aCdpVVZDu-sb8CoqYmdMF4R3ooWce-BDYZ6XZmdJ15vwH/w400-h225/IMG_1505.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">November 5, 2023</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Year A: All Saints’ Sunday</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Revelation 7:9-17</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Psalm 34:1-10, 22</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 John 3:1-3</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Matthew 5:1-12</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Living Sacraments</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In last week’s sermon, I mentioned that I know that my love of Baptism has become kind of a running joke around here.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And that’s all right. I can take it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The other running joke (or, at least the other one that I know about!) is that I like an active church.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I don’t make any apologies for that. Part of good stewardship is using the blessings – the resources – that we have received. And, especially these last few weeks, or months, really, I’d say that we have been exceptionally good stewards – serving and learning and growing in so many wonderful ways.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For me, one recent highlights was our study of the excellent little book by Rowan Williams, the former Archbishop of Canterbury.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Being Christian</i>, it’s called.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’ve been part of a lot of book studies but this one produced some of the best conversations I’ve experienced – thoughtful, interesting, and challenging.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And you know it’s a good book study when the participants think about the book during the week between our meetings. In fact, some parishioners got in touch with me by email or text because they wanted to talk more about something that they had read.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For example, one parishioner reached out to ask about sacraments.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She said that someone she knew had told her that at her church they consider the passing of the peace to be a sacrament! </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our parishioner asked me, “Is this true?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Well, maybe from a long-ago Confirmation class, some of you may remember that sacraments are defined as “outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual grace.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jesus himself gave us the sacraments of Baptism and Communion.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And then there are the five other “sacramental rites” that recognized by the Church: Confirmation, Ordination, Matrimony, Reconciliation, and Anointing of the Sick.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, God is not limited by what we determine to be official and so the truth is that, yes, with the right intention, the passing of the Peace can totally be a sacrament - an outward sign of invisible grace.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In fact, so much of the good that, with God’s help, we do here can be, and often is, sacramental – the beautiful music that our choir offers us week after week, and the fellowship we enjoy, and the welcoming of the stranger, and the feeding of the hungry, even the filling out of a pledge card and, who knows, maybe even the sermon!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Really, at its best, the whole church is a giant sacrament – an outward sign of invisible grace.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And, the saints – both the “capital S” saints officially certified by the church and the holy people of our own lives – they are living sacraments.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>All Saints’ Day, which we’re celebrating today, always gets me thinking about the many saints – the many living sacraments – that I’ve met.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The first was probably my grandmother – my mother’s mother. I’ve told you about her before. Like every other saint, she was imperfect but God’s invisible grace was easy to see in and through her life, right to the end.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One time when I was visiting her in the hospital, not long before her death, my grandmother turned to me and said, “I know where I have come from and I know where I am going.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Whether she realized it or not, my grandmother was quoting Jesus (It’s John 8:14). And that day in her hospital room, it was her solid faith, her unwavering trust, that got me thinking about my own life and got me started on a journey that, eventually, led right here.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One of the most recent saints I’ve met was our parishioner Donna Gribble, who died a little over a month ago.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Early on in my time here, Donna and her husband Larry made an appointment to meet with me.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As we sat in my office, they shared their story with me, how Larry had repaired school buses and Donna drove them – how they had both served as volunteer fire fighters for many years.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They also told me how Donna had been battling cancer for a couple of years.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And they told me that they wanted to come back to St. Thomas’, back to the church where Donna had grown up, back home.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Later, Donna and Larry celebrated their fortieth anniversary by renewing their vows right here, surrounded by their loving family and friends.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was a beautiful service, one of the most moving I’ve ever been part of. There was so much love in this room that day. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Not too long ago, Donna’s cancer passed the point of no return.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Although it was such a terribly sad time, it was also a great privilege to make this final journey with Donna and Larry. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>During those last weeks, I began to understand just how much Donna had meant to so many people, how much she had given to her family and friends, her co-workers, the children who rode on her bus, and her fellow firefighters.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Through tears, over and over, people talked about her selflessness.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It wasn’t just her own children who called her “mom.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Her funeral here was a testament to the kind of life she led. Even the chief of the County Fire Department kept choking up as she tried to honor Donna.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Although she definitely wanted to live, to spend more time with Larry and her family, Donna had faced her death with the kind of faith and trust that reminded me very much of my grandmother.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>During one of my visits, I told Donna about my grandmother and how she had said, “I know where I have come from and I know where I am going.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I think Donna recognized a kindred spirit, and during her last days, including her very last day, she repeated those confident words of Jesus.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Donna was a saint. Like all of us, she was imperfect. But she was most certainly a living sacrament: an outward and visible sign of inward and spiritual grace.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And now, today, on All Saints’ Sunday, I am about to have the great joy of baptizing our parishioner, Sean.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Of course, every baptism is joyful – remember the running joke – but, I have to say, there is something extra special when it’s an adult making this choice for himself, standing before his church community, with his sponsors at his side.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In the water of Baptism, God will make an unbreakable bond with Sean. But at the same time, the holy water is only a visible sign of what has been invisibly true all along.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Those of us who’ve had the chance to get to know Sean know that he, too, is a living sacrament.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When I look back over the past couple of years – back to when Sean and his mom and his aunt first started to attend church here – and how Sean has grown in his faith, grown in this community – sharing God’s grace in seemingly small but beautiful ways – working on the Altar Guild (he’s the “muscle” of the Altar Guild), participating in our Adult Confirmation class and now the Young Adult Group – when I think of the journey we’ve all been on together, well, God’s grace is already shining so bright, even before we get to the water.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Like my grandmother, like Donna, like Sean, all of us are called to be saints.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We are meant to be living sacraments – outward and visible signs of God’s invisible grace – the grace that is powerful enough to make real Jesus’ vision of the downside-up Kingdom of God, the world where it’s the poor and sorrowful and meek and hungry who are truly blessed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We are all meant to be – and, with God’s help, can be - living sacraments.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amen.</span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span>Tom Murphyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14855899653240717986noreply@blogger.com