Imperfect Disciples

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

September 27, 2015

Year B, Proper 21: The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; 9:20-22

Psalm 124

James 5:13-20

Mark 9:38-50

Imperfect Disciples

            By now most of you have heard me talk about how much I love weekday worship – and how proud and thankful I am that, thanks to a small but faithful band of worship leaders, we’ve managed to maintain our schedule of weekday services for more than two years now.

            I can’t prove this, but I really believe that all of that worship, all of those prayers echoing off of these old walls, bathing this room in prayer, have had a powerful spiritual effect on all of us here at St. Paul’s, even if we’ve never once come to church during the week.

            One of the reasons I love weekday worship is it gives me – gives us – a chance to learn about some of the great Christians of the past. Our church calendar is filled with what are called “Lesser Feasts,” days set aside to honor people, both famous and obscure, who used their talents and energy to share the Good News.

            And then there are the Major Feasts. On most of those days we honor people from the New Testament – members of Jesus’ own original band of disciples. For example, last week we celebrated the Feast of St. Matthew, the Apostle and Evangelist.

            I love learning about – and preaching about – these remarkable people.

            To be honest, sometimes I think there’s no way that you and I can really be like them, really give away our lives for Christ.

            But, then, other times, I’m reminded that just like us, these holy women and men were all too human.

            Like us, they were imperfect disciples.

            And, in our gospel lessons these past few weeks, we’ve been reminded just how imperfect Jesus’ closest disciples could be.

            Two weeks ago we heard the story of Jesus predicting his arrest, death and resurrection. You may remember that, out of love for his Lord and maybe some anxiety about his own fate and the fate of the other disciples, Peter “rebuked” Jesus, trying to convince Jesus to turn away from his mission, to avoid his terrible and holy fate.

            Imperfect disciples.

            And then last Sunday, we heard Jesus predict his arrest, death, and resurrection a second time.

            This time, disciples didn’t rebuke Jesus.

            No, instead, we’re told that they didn’t “understand” what Jesus was talking about – that sounds a little too convenient to me - so they quickly changed the subject, arguing among themselves about a very earthly, all too human subject: who among them was the greatest.

            Later, the disciples are understandably embarrassed when Jesus asks them what it was they were arguing about.

            Imperfect disciples.

            And now the imperfect disciples continue their streak in today’s gospel passage.

            The disciples report to Jesus that they saw someone casting out demons in Jesus’ name and they tried to stop him because he was not one of the twelve.

            Somehow, the imperfect disciples have gotten the idea that they have some kind of a monopoly on Jesus – that only they should be licensed to teach and heal in the name of Jesus.

            Jesus, of course, isn’t having any of it, telling the disciples that they should let others do deeds of power in his name.

            He goes even further, opens the door even wider, saying, “Whoever is not against us is for us.”

            We’re not told how the imperfect disciples respond to that. If they were smart, they just kept silent.

            The first disciples – the men and women who knew Jesus in the flesh, who walked with him, who heard his teaching, who witnessed his miracles – the holy women and men who we remember on our church calendar were imperfect disciples.

            And, of course, we’re imperfect disciples, too.

            We make mistakes. We fall short. We’re imperfect – more imperfect than we’d probably like to let on.

            And, obviously, that includes me, too.

            These last few days I’ve been even more aware of my imperfections than usual.

            As most of you know, about a month ago I accepted a position teaching Religion at St. Peter’s Prep, my alma mater.

            My reasoning was that I could both continue to serve as your rector and also teach full-time, that, in fact, teaching full-time would save the church enough money that I could, in fact, continue to serve here.

            I have to tell you that my new classes and colleagues have been great. I’ve really enjoyed being back in the classroom.

            There’s just one problem. In these first couple of weeks of classes I quickly realized that I can’t do both jobs. I just don’t have enough time or energy to teach and be parish priest. Or, at least, there’s not enough of me to do both of these jobs as well as they must be done.

            In my imperfection, I over-estimated my own abilities.

            So, I realized I had to make a quick, difficult, decision or I was going to do real damage either here or at school, or, most likely, both.

            On Monday, I met with the principal and told him that I had made a mistake and that I couldn’t continue teaching at Prep. He was disappointed (and in a flash I had created a headache for him and the school) but he understood and was very gracious.

            Friday was my last day at school.

            I have to tell you that this was one of the most difficult decisions of my life – and I’m really pretty sad about it – and I feel embarrassed that I made such a major miscalculation.

            Imperfect disciple.

            But, of course, I’m in good company – we’re in good company. Christian history and our church calendar are full of imperfect disciples.

            The good news is that God specializes in imperfect disciples, always reaching out to us, calling us back, strengthening us, nudging us in the direction of forgiveness and love.

            And, sure enough, this morning, yet again, God calls us back, reaches out to us, nudges us, strengthens us, in and through the baptism of Andrew.

            In just a few minutes, right here, right back there at the font, in and through the water of baptism, God will make an unbreakable bond with Andrew, this eight year-old boy who told me - and in a moment will tell all of us - that he wants to baptized.

            In and through the water of baptism, God will make an unbreakable, indissoluble, bond with Andrew.

            And, this is the best news ever because we know that Andrew, like all of us, will be an imperfect disciple.

            Like all of us he’ll do things he shouldn’t do – and won’t do things he should do.

            Like all of us, he won’t be as loving and forgiving as God calls to be.

            He’ll make mistakes that will create problems for others.

            But, no matter what, despite (or, maybe because of) all of his – and our – imperfections, God never, ever, lets go of us.

            So, today we imperfect disciples get to welcome yet another imperfect disciple – we get to welcome our young brother, Andrew – we get to welcome him to our imperfect band.

            Thanks be to God.

            Amen.

           

           

           

            

"Grant Us, Lord, Not to be Anxious About Earthly Things"

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

September 20, 2015

Year B, Proper 19: The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost

Proverbs 31:10-31

Psalm 1

James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a

Mark 9:30-37

“Grant Us, Lord, Not to be Anxious About Earthly Things”

            For a couple of reasons, I found the words of today’s opening prayer, today’s collect, especially meaningful:

            “Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure…”

            “Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things…”

            I’m sure this prayer was particularly meaningful to me – and maybe to you, too – because there sure is a lot of anxiety in the air these days, isn’t there?

            There’s a lot of anxiety in the world, particularly in Europe, as it faces wave after wave of refugees fleeing war and chaos especially in Syria, but also other parts of the Middle East and Africa.

            Life has gotten so horrible in those places that people are willing to leave behind everything and everyone they know and set off on a long and dangerous trek to countries where they know they will not exactly be welcomed with open arms.

            There’s anxiety in European countries, especially the smaller and poorer ones, about how they are supposed absorb thousands of new people – people unable to care for themselves – people with a very different culture, speaking different languages and practicing a different religion.

            The anxiety has gotten so great that, sure enough, fences are being built, borders are closing and shots are being fired.

            And, of course, there’s anxiety in our own country, too.

            There’s anxiety about our supposedly recovering economy – a recovery that many of us have yet to feel.

            There’s anxiety about our rapidly changing country – a country where white people are quickly becoming a minority. And, we hear that anxiety expressed these days in some of what passes as political discussion in our country – in the calls by some to build impossibly long walls, in the calls to deport impossibly large numbers of people, in the calls to “take back our country” – from whom is usually left unsaid, at least in public.

            This week we saw the anxiety flare up in Irvine, Texas when a 14 year-old boy, Ahmed Mohamed, created science project – a clock - to impress his new classmates, but because he’s a Muslim some of his school’s teachers and administrators were afraid it might be a bomb – and so they called the police and he was arrested.

            Maybe some of you saw the picture of him, handcuffed, and looking so frightened.

            Anxiety.

            And, then there’s the anxiety closer to home.

            I’ll admit to feeling a good bit of anxiety these days as I try to fit together serving as your rector and also full-time high school teaching. I’ve had some bad nights of sleep, tossing and turning, thinking anxiously if I’ve made a big mistake.

            And, I know that many of you have anxiety in your lives – anxieties about health, and employment, about children and grandchildren, and anxieties about whether you’ll be able to pay the rent, to pay the bills -or not.

            “Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things…”

            And, actually, there’s a lot of anxiety in both last week’s and today’s gospel lessons.

            If you were here last week, you may remember that we heard Jesus predict what was going to happen to him – what’s called the first passion prediction in the Gospel of Mark.

            Remember, Jesus teaches the disciples that he “must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.”

            Peter doesn’t like the sound of that one bit – we can imagine the anxiety he felt thinking about all of that terrible stuff happening to Jesus – his Messiah and his friend – and the anxiety he felt about what all of that meant for him and the other disciples.

            So, what does Peter do?

            He acts out and “rebukes” Jesus – a strong word – only to be rebuked by Jesus himself.

            “Get behind me, Satan!”

            And then in today’s gospel lesson, we heard Jesus once again predict what was going to happen to him – what’s called, you guessed it, the second Passion prediction in the Gospel of Mark.

            Jesus says that he “is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.”

            This time, though, the reaction of the disciples is different.

            Nobody rebukes him – or, really, pays him any mind.

            Instead, the disciples ignore him and change the subject, talking about a very earthly thing, arguing about who is the greatest among the disciples.

            As I’ve thought about these two incidents, I think they reflect the two main ways that many, or most, of us deal with anxiety.

            Sometimes, like Peter, we act out – maybe we rebuke somebody, or we try to build walls to separate us from the source of our anxiety, or, faced with a nerdy Muslim boy and a homemade clock, we arrest him first and ask questions later.

            Or, like the disciples, the other way we deal with anxiety is we ignore it – we quickly change the subject – we bury our anxieties deep in our gut where they boil and churn, waiting impatiently for an opportune moment to boil up again.

            The disciples used two methods to deal with the anxiety caused by Jesus’ predictions of his own suffering and death: acting out and trying to ignore it. And, of course, neither works very well at all.

            And, those two methods of dealing with anxiety don’t work very well for us, either.

            But, you know, if you read carefully last week’s gospel and this week’s gospel, you may notice that the disciples – and maybe we – missed something important, something central.

            Both times, Jesus predicts his suffering – and that’s something that nobody wants to face – something that would make anyone anxious.

            But, both times Jesus also predicts – or, even, promises - that on the third day he will rise again.

            Both times Jesus reassures his disciples, reassures his friends, that, yes, there will be suffering – and some of that suffering will be terrible indeed.

            But, both times, Jesus also predicts and promises that Easter Day will dawn, that light will cast away the darkness, that in the end God’s love will win.

            Ultimately, the problem with anxiety is that it blinds us to the good news that’s all around us, especially right here. Yes, bad things happen and suffering is real, but in the end, it’s Easter and love wins forever.

            And that’s why I tell people to come to church every Sunday.

            Week after week we come here with all of our anxieties – have I made a terrible mistake – what will the doctor tell me when I see her this week – will I find a job – will my kids be able to build a good life for themselves – will I find someone to love – we bring all of those anxieties and more.

            But rather than lashing out, we bring our anxieties here where every Sunday it’s Easter.

            Rather than trying to bury our anxieties deep in our gut, we bring them here where every Sunday we’re reminded that, yes, terrible things happen, but, in the end, love wins and endures forever.

            “Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure…”

            Amen.

Jesus Our Brother

Grace Church Van Vorst, Jersey City NJ

Church of the Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

September 13, 2015

Year B, Proper 19: The 16th Sunday after Pentecost

Proverbs 1:20-33

Psalm 19

James 3:1-12

Mark 8:27-38

Jesus Our Brother

            I admit that when I first looked at today’s lessons I laughed out loud when I got to the opening verse from the Letter of James:

            “Not many of you should become teachers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. For all of us make many mistakes”

            Well, that’s for sure!

            Many of you know that in addition to serving as rector at St. Paul’s I am now also teaching Religion at St. Peter’s Prep, my alma mater and where I taught (History) for seven years before heading off to seminary.

            I actually haven’t taught yet – the first day of classes is tomorrow. Instead, we’ve had two weeks of orientation and meetings during which sometimes I’ve felt excited and other times overwhelmed. And, sometimes I’ve wondered if James would put me in the category of the few who should teach or the much larger group of those who shouldn’t.

            No surprise, it’s kind of weird to be back at Prep now as an Episcopal priest though it has its advantages.

            For example, on Thursday the school had its Mass of the Holy Spirit, an annual ritual in all Jesuit schools.

            I have to tell you that it was great to just sit and pray and listen and say the responses but not have to think about choreography or what I’m supposed to say next.

            Near the end of the Mass, the celebrant referred to “Jesus our brother.”

            And that expression really struck me.

            Of course, I’ve heard it before and even said it myself sometimes, but not that often.

            I tend to go with “Jesus Christ our Lord and your Son,” which, of course, emphasizes Jesus’ divinity.

            But, Jesus our brother was a good reminder for me of Jesus the human being – a human being just like us but without sin.

            And, actually, we’ve encountered Jesus our brother in our gospel lessons both last Sunday and today.

            Last week, you may remember we heard the story of Jesus’ encounter with the Syro-Phoenician woman – this Gentile who comes to Jesus asking him to cast out an unclean spirit from her daughter.

            And, how does Jesus react?

            Well, maybe he was having a bad day or maybe he was uncomfortable being in a gentile land, or maybe he was unhappy that his privacy had been interrupted but, for whatever reason, at this moment Jesus comes as close to sin as he ever does in the gospels.

             Jesus spurns her, apparently referring to the woman and her daughter as “dogs.”

            The brave – or maybe just desperate – woman goes back at Jesus, who has a change of heart and chooses to heal the daughter.

            And then today we have a lot going on in today’s gospel lesson.

            Jesus asks his famous question, “Who do people say that I am?”

            And then the follow-up to the discuiples, “But, who do you say that I am?”

            And, of all people, it’s Peter who gets the right answer!

            “You are the Messiah.”

            I can almost imagine Peter glowing like a freshman on the first day of school who gets an answer right in class.

            But, Peter doesn’t get to enjoy that glow of satisfaction for long because, as we heard, he gets understandably gets upset when Jesus predicts the suffering that awaits him.

            We’re told that Peter “rebukes” Jesus – a strong word, indeed!

            And then in another of the most striking moments in the gospel, Jesus does some pretty harsh rebuking of his own - Jesus really lets Peter have it:

            “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but human things.”

            At first glance, this does seem very harsh, doesn’t it?

            After all, Peter is understandably shocked at what Jesus has said. He loves Jesus and he’s determined that he’ll do whatever he can to prevent his friend – his Lord – the Messiah from suffering.

            Though, of course, we know that there’s irony here since we know that when the moment of testing comes, Peter will deny even knowing Jesus – deny him three times.

            But, still, why the harshness from our brother Jesus?

            It seems to me that Jesus is angry at Peter because in this moment Peter really is Satan – really is the tempter – tempting Jesus to turn away from the bloody fate that awaits him.

            Jesus is sorely tempted.

            Which may sound strange to us since I think many of us often think that Jesus had his forty days and nights of temptation in the wilderness, and that was that – that somehow for the rest of his life and ministry Jesus the Messiah, Jesus the Lord, was free of temptation, walking in a straight line to the cross.

            Not so, of course.

            Jesus our brother was tempted right to the end.

            One of my favorite books is of The Last Temptation Christ. Have any of you read it?

            Anyway, in the novel Jesus is tempted even as he hangs on the cross – tempted to turn away from this painful and shameful death – tempted to live like an ordinary person – to have a wife, to have children, to have a little carpentry business - to live a nice, quiet life.

            That’s not in the gospels, of course, but I’d be willing to bet that Jesus our brother experienced that kind of temptation.

            I won’t spoil the ending for those who haven’t read it.

            So, what does all of this mean for us?

            Well, as the author of the Letter of James reminded us, we all make many mistakes.

             I’m going to guess that pretty much everybody here has one time or another been impatient with somebody asking us for help.

            Maybe it’s someone we don’t really like – maybe because of his personality, or her nationality or religion, or maybe just the tone of his voice. Or, maybe it’s someone who is constantly asking for help and we’re just plain tired of it – compassion fatigue.

            Well, thanks to Jesus our brother, we know that God really knows what that’s like.

            And, I’m going to guess that all of us know the power of temptation – probably only too well.

            Well, thanks to Jesus our brother, we know that God really knows what it’s like to be sorely tempted.

            So, when we make our many mistakes – when we turn away the person asking for help – when we slip and give into temptation – we know that God gets it – and God is quick to show mercy – and, if we’re open to it, God is quick to give us the grace we need so that the next time we’re more likely to say yes to the person who needs our help and more likely to resist at least some of the temptations we face every day.

            We know all of this – and so much more - thanks to Jesus our brother.

            Amen.

Out of Our Comfort Zones

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

September 6, 2015

Year B, Proper 18: The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Proverbs 22:1-2, 8-9, 22-23

Psalm 125

James 2:1-17

Mark 7:24-37

Out of Our Comfort Zones

            For the past few days I’ve been seeing parents post pictures on Facebook of their kids heading off on the first day of school.

            Sometimes parents will also post pictures from the first day of school last year or sometimes years ago, like the first day of kindergarten or first grade, giving everybody a look at before and after.

            Some parents express dismay that their kids are growing up so fast and some will admit to being relieved that the long summer vacation is over and the kids are back in school and out of their hair.

            For years, I’ve enjoyed seeing these pictures but this year it’s a little bit more meaningful for me as I return to school, too.

            Thank God, Sue didn’t take my picture on the first day of new teacher orientation and, thank God again, my parents didn’t dig up a picture from my first day of kindergarten or first grade, heading off into the unknown, heading out of my comfort zone.

            A lot of people have been asking me how the first days went. It was fine, though I’ll admit to you that I’m amazed and kind of intimidated at how much technology is in school now. When I left Prep 11 years ago, I was still mostly using chalk, paper, and ink in my classes. Now, all the boys have computers in class and teachers are expected to do much of their – our work – through these devices.

            No more chalk.

            So, to be honest, I feel a little bit like an antique.

            Like a lot of the kids in those first day of school pictures, I am definitely heading out of my comfort zone – which is both unsettling and exciting.

            You probably know the feeling.

            It may sound strange to say this but the fully human Jesus of Nazareth had a comfort zone, too.

            He grew up in Nazareth, a small town in Galilee, which was the countryside. Although even as boy Jesus probably had contact with foreigners passing through on their way to Jerusalem or one of the other cities, like us he must have been most comfortable with his own people - his fellow Galileans - who would have shared similar life experiences, would have eaten the same food, would have shared the same outlook on life, would have spoken with the same distinctive Galilean accent.

            But, many of the Jewish prophets had a vision that the Messiah would unite all peoples, that eventually the whole world would come to Jerusalem and worship God on Mount Zion.

            So, it was necessary for Jesus the Messiah to head off into the unknown. It was necessary for Jesus the Son of God to leave his comfort zone.

            And, we hear Jesus doing just that in today’s gospel lesson from Mark, when Jesus leaves Israel and travels into a gentile, non-Jewish, land.

            And, what we discover is that Jesus had kind of a rocky start to leaving his comfort zone.

            Jesus tries, unsuccessfully, to keep a low profile. We’re told that a Gentile woman, a non-Jew, came and bowed before Jesus, begging him to cast a demon out of her daughter.

            In one of the most striking and shocking moments in the gospels, Jesus of Nazareth, maybe because he was uncomfortable with – or even prejudiced against – this non-Jewish woman, insults her and her daughter, equating them with dogs - definitely not a compliment.

            Then, in one of the greatest moments in Scripture, the woman, rather than crawling away dog-like, like perhaps you and I might have done, challenges Jesus, pushing him – drawing him - out of his comfort zone.

            And, Jesus the Messiah of the whole world cast the unclean spirit out of the woman’s daughter.

            Jesus left his comfort zone - and that changed everything.

            Well, here at St. Paul’s, over the last two years or so, we’ve been leaving our comfort zone, too.

            It can be both unsettling and exciting.

            As we heard, leaving his comfort zone wasn’t easy for Jesus and it wasn’t easy for the early church, either.

            In today’s second lesson, the author of the Epistle of James calls out the early church for some pretty crummy behavior: showing favoritism to certain people. In their case, apparently some in the church were favoring the wealthy, inviting them to sit while the poor had to stand in the back.

            We don’t do that!  But, like everybody, we have our comfort zones. Of course, we have certain people that we feel most comfortable with. Maybe they’re people who are like us – sharing a common background and similar experiences – maybe they’re people we’ve known for years and years, maybe we’ve known them our whole lives.

            But, one of the things that I’m proudest of during our time together so far is how, together, we’ve headed out into the unknown, how we’ve moved beyond our comfort zones.

            This hasn’t happened without some bumps along the way but, for the most part, we’ve moved beyond our comfort zones by welcoming all kinds of new people into our community – people who like all of us bring their mix of gifts and challenges.

            We’ve moved beyond our comfort zones by taking on new ministries here at St. Paul’s. Think of how many of us have started serving as lectors, and chalice-bearers, ushers, hosts, singers, and more in just the last few years! And, a bunch of others are about to take on new ministries!

            We’ve moved beyond our comfort zones by working much more closely with our Jersey City sister churches, by welcoming the neighborhood into our house for healthy food and concerts and poetry readings and yoga and crafts and even a comedy show.

            We’ve moved beyond our comfort zones by taking our church out to the streets, by offering Ashes to Go at McGinley Square on Ash Wednesday, by walking the Way of the Cross with a hundred other pilgrims on the streets of Jersey City, by community organizing with people from more than 30 other congregations, and by working with others to begin offering shelter to homeless families.

            We’ve moved beyond our comfort zones.

            But. You know how God is.

            God is out there – just ahead of us – just beyond our comfort zones, calling us to love more deeply, to give more generously, to work together with ever-greater unity – to keep moving beyond our comfort zones – to help God build the kingdom where there are no walls separating us – the kingdom without racism – the kingdom where refugees are welcomed rather than left to die.

            God is calling us to build the kingdom of unity that the prophets dreamed of long ago.

            Jesus began to change everything when he left his comfort zone and healed that gentile woman’s daughter.

            And, you and I here at St. Paul’s are building our little corner of the Kingdom of God each time we head out of our comfort zones.

            Amen.

           

           

           

            

Hearers and Doers of the Word in Jersey City

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

August 30, 2015

Year B, Proper 17: The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Song of Solomon 2:8-13

Psalm 45:1-2, 7-10

James 1:17-27

Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

Hearers and Doers of the Word in Jersey City

            Well, we have quite a collection of lessons today, don’t we?

            We began with some pretty gushy love poetry from the Song of Solomon.            

            That was followed with a well-known passage from the Epistle of James, calling us to be not just hearers of the word but doers of the word – challenging us by defining pure religion as caring for orphans and widows in distress and keeping ourselves unstained by the world.

            And then we have today’s gospel lesson, which includes a dispute between Jesus and the Pharisees.

            Some of you have heard me say before that I think the Pharisees get a bad rap in the New Testament.

            We don’t actually know all that much about Pharisees in the first century, but they were a group within Judaism that it seems was interested in making everyday life holy – bringing practices that were used only in worship into everyday life – things like ritually washing one’s hands before eating.

            (Of course, washing one’s hands before eating is good hygiene!)

            It’s hard to know how much of the conflict between Jesus and the Pharisees that we hear about in the gospels is historical or reflects later battles between infant Christianity and the Pharisees as they competed for followers during decades after the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

            And, frankly, it seems unlikely that Jesus the Jew really did declare all foods to be clean – especially since we know that the Jewish dietary laws remained a big source of conflict for the early church as it began to welcome non- Jewish members.

            It’s hard to imagine that members of the early church would have fought so hard about whether non-Jews had to keep kosher if Jesus had spoken so clearly on the subject.

            Anyway, one thing we do know for sure – and something that always makes me as a “professional Christian” a little nervous - is that Jesus didn’t really have much use for the religious establishment of his day.

            He condemned them as hypocrites who said one thing but did another, who put heavy religious and financial demands on the people, who loved to put on a good religious show but whose hearts were far from God, as we heard Jesus say to the Pharisees in today’s lesson.

            Jesus reminds the Pharisees and his disciples – and us here today – that what’s going on in our hearts is most important – because it’s our hearts that produce the evil intentions listed in today’s lesson and those other evil intentions that didn’t make the list – and these evil things are what defile us.

            In today’s gospel, Jesus focuses on what’s going on in our hearts.

            And, in the Letter of James, we’re reminded to be not just hearers but doers.

            All of this reminds me of two of my favorite gospel characters: the sisters Mary and Martha.

            I bet many of you – maybe especially the women – remember the story from Luke’s gospel of Jesus visiting the Mary and Martha’s home.

            On one level it’s a kind of mysterious story but on another level it’s so very human.

            Martha is busy, taking care of all that needs to be done to welcome their honored guest while meanwhile her sister Mary sat at the Lord’s feet, listening to Jesus’ every word.

            Martha complains to Jesus, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her to help me.”

            But instead of telling Mary to get to work, Jesus says, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

            In the story, Mary is the hearer and Martha is the doer.

            And, the truth is, you and I are called to be both Mary and Martha. We are called to be both hearers and doers of the word.

            It’s as hearers of the word that we allow God – who loves us with a gushy love - to take care of our hearts, nurturing our hearts so that God’s goodness and love flow out of us and into our world so defaced and broken by evil.

            And, I think that, with God’s help, with each passing day we Jersey City Episcopalians are doing a better and better job of being both Mary and Martha, with God’s help we’re doing a better and better job of being both hearers and doers of the word.

            As it says on our Jersey City Episcopal banner, “The Word is getting around!” More people really are finding their way to our churches. More of us are worshiping at our three churches – where, each with our own distinctive style and tradition, we hear the Word of God, extend the hand of peace, receive the Body and Blood of Christ, and are then sent out into our defiled and broken world to love and serve the Lord.

            More of us are hearing the Word.

            And more of us are doing the Word.

            There’s so much happening that I certainly don’t know everything that’s going on at all three of our churches and at Garden State Episcopal CDC, but I know that people are being fed and clothed, children are being cared for, a sense of community is being strengthened, and shelter is being provided for the homeless and the poor.

            Together we’ve been involved in the exciting community organizing effort that’s going on across our city. Together we’ve been trying to get a Family Promise affiliate up and running in Hudson County – to provide much-needed shelter for homeless families, who are often carefully hidden all around us.

            We are doing the Word by extending God’s love to those people the world is quick to dismiss as useless, as losers, as unlovable, as not worth – as not deserving – our effort.

            Together, more and more often, we Jersey City Episcopalians are Mary and Martha. Together we are hearers of the Word and doers of the Word.

            Today as we gather together for our third annual service and barbeque picnic at Liberty State Park, my prayer is that we will continue to deepen our commitment to be hearers of the Word.

            My prayer is that we will deepen our commitment to being doers of the Word, sharing God’s love with a defiled and broken Jersey City, sharing God’s love with a defiled and broken world.

            With God’s help, may it be so.

            Amen. 

Walking in the Way of the Lord

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

August 23, 2015

Year B, Proper 16: The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost

1 Kings 8:1, 6, 10-11, 22-30, 41-43

Psalm 84

Ephesians 6:10-20

John 6:56-69

Walking in the Way of the Lord

            Last Sunday in our Old Testament lesson we heard about the death of King David, who was then succeeded by his son Solomon.

            Solomon, you’ll remember, felt inadequate to the job and so asked God for the gift of wisdom. God happily obliged and to this day Solomon is remembered for his great wisdom.

            Solomon is also remembered for the construction of the first temple in Jerusalem.

            You might remember that a little while back we heard the story of how David had wanted to build a house for God – a house made of cedar – but God made it clear that God would be doing the house-building, thank you very much!

            But, Solomon actually does build a house for God, builds the Temple, one of the great architectural marvels of the ancient world, the place where, in a sense, God was believed to dwell, the building that became the center of life for the people of Israel.

            In today’s lesson we hear King Solomon offer a long prayer during the dedication of the great temple.

            As we still sometimes do in our prayers to this day, in his prayer Solomon reminds God (as if God needed reminding!) of what God had done – reminds God of what God had promised to God’s people.

            At one point in his prayer, Solomon reminds God of God’s promise to David, the promise that his line would last forever “if only your children look to their way, to walk before me as you have walked before me.”

            God promised to continue David’s line if the people continued to walk in the way of the Lord.

            Walking in the way of the Lord.

            If you know your Bible, you know that sometimes the people of Israel did a good job of walking in the way of the Lord. Other times, not so much.

            For us Christians walking in the way of the Lord means putting – and keeping – God – the God we know in and through Jesus - at the center of our lives.

            Walking in the way of the Lord means loving our neighbors as ourselves. It means loving our enemies, turning the other cheek, praying for those who persecute us.

            Walking in the way of the Lord means at least trying to love those who the world rejects, trying to love those who often are so hard to love.

            Walking in the way of the Lord means withholding judgment on others – unless we ourselves want to be judged.

            Walking in the way of the Lord means giving of ourselves generously – giving not just what’s extra, what’s left over, but giving in a sacrificial way, giving so that it hurts us at least a little, giving that requires us to deny ourselves something we want, giving that requires us to do something we’d really rather not have to do.

            All very difficult.

            It is a great challenge to walk in the way of the Lord, isn’t it? In fact, it might very well be the greatest challenge of our lives.

            In fact, walking in the way of the Lord is so difficult, so challenging, and sometimes even so dangerous, that, as we heard in today’s second lesson, the author of the Letter to the Ephesians uses some kind of frightening military imagery.

            He writes: “Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”

            Walking in the way of the Lord is so difficult we heard in today’s gospel lesson that some – maybe even many – of Jesus’ followers found it too hard to follow him and so they fell away.

            Walking in the way of the Lord is so challenging because the forces of the world are constantly calling us to walk a very different way.

            The world calls us to put our own wants and needs first, to ignore our neighbors, to not waste our time even trying to love those who are hard to love, to judge people – to judge them on the worst thing they’ve ever done, to hold on for dear life to everything we have, because, well, you never know, right?

            In fact, walking in the way of the Lord is so challenging that we might be tempted to throw up our arms in frustration and give up – to live just like everybody else.

            Except.

            Except that every once in a while God sends us a reminder that it really is possible to walk in the way of the Lord.

            Every once in a while God sends us a reminder that God is ready and willing to give us the strength, the courage, the guidance, to walk in the way of the Lord.

            Jimmy Carter is one of those reminders.

            As I’m sure many of you know, this past week President Carter announced that his cancer had spread to his brain and that, at age 90, he is beginning radiation treatments.

            So, I’ve been thinking a lot about Jimmy Carter and keeping him in my prayers.

            Now, he’d admit that he’s not perfect. And, you don’t get to be governor of a state or president of the United States without being tough and ambitious and self-confident.

            And, he has been mostly judged to be not such a successful president, though I think history will be kinder to Carter who was ahead of his time about energy efficiency, even placing solar panels on the White House roof, kinder to Carter who forged a lasting peace between the mortal enemies of Israel and Egypt, history will be kinder to Carter than many of his successors.

            But, it’s what he’s done after leaving office that’s most impressive.

            While other former presidents usually spend their time getting well-compensated for making speeches or sitting on corporate boards or writing their memoirs or playing golf, Carter has devoted his long post-presidency to walking in the way of the Lord, to serving others.

            As you may know, after leaving office he and his wife Rosalynn (married since 1946, by the way) started the Carter Center, which is devoted to democracy and public health.

            He and his organization have monitored elections all around the world. In fact, he was monitoring an election in Guyana when he first began feeling ill. The Carter Center has spearheaded the effort to eradicate the terrible disease called Guinea worm.

            When the effort began, in 1986, there were 3.5 million cases mostly in Africa and Asia. Last year there were 126 cases and President Carter said, “I’d like the last Guinea worm to die before I do.”

            On top of all of that he’s been faithful volunteer for Habitat for Humanity and still teaches Sunday School at his church in Georgia.

            Whatever you might think of his politics, over his long life Jimmy Carter has walked in the way of the Lord.

            I’m sure it wasn’t easy – there were temptations and disappointments along the way.

            But, now he gets to enjoy - and we get to see – what it means to abide with Jesus.

            And, look, after a lifetime of walking in the way of the Lord, Jimmy Carter faces the future without fear and with hope and confidence.

            At his press conference the other day he said that at first he thought he’d be dead in a just a few weeks. He said, “But I was surprisingly at ease. I’ve had a wonderful life, I’ve had thousands of friends, and I’ve had an exciting and adventurous and gratifying existence.”

            Finally, he said, “Now I feel it’s in the hands of God.”

            Walking in the way of the Lord.

            It is a great challenge to walk in the way of the Lord. In fact, it might very well be the greatest challenge of our lives.

            In fact, walking in the way of the Lord is so challenging that we might be tempted to throw up our arms in frustration and give up – to live just like everybody else.

            Except that every once in a while God sends us a reminder that it really is possible to walk in the way of the Lord.

            Every once in a while God sends us a reminder that God is ready and willing to give us the strength, the courage, the guidance, to walk in the way of the Lord.

            With God’s help, we can walk in the way of the Lord. Just look at the man from Plains, Georgia.

            Amen.

"Making the Most of the Time"

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

August 16, 2015

Year B, Proper 15: The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14

Psalm 111

Ephesians 5:15-20

John 6:51-58

Making the Most of the Time

            In today’s Old Testament lesson, we heard about the death of King David and the rise of his successor, Solomon, who, understandably, feels like he’s not quite up to the job. He says, poignantly, “I do not know how to go out or come in.”

            And so, recognizing his inadequacy, Solomon asks God to give him wisdom – he asks God to give him “an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil.”

            We’re told that God is so pleased by this request – so pleased that Solomon didn’t ask for the usual stuff, you know, long life or riches – God is so pleased that God grants Solomon his request, bestowing on him the gift for which he is famous to this day: wisdom.

            I think we can all agree that Solomon made a smart – yes, even, wise – request.

            Certainly all leaders need as much wisdom as they can get. But, it’s not just leaders. All of us need wisdom all the time as we face the many challenges and opportunities of life.

            And, you know, one of the biggest challenges and opportunities of our lives is deciding how we use our time. How do we use our precious, fast-moving, all too limited time here on earth?

            In today’s second lesson, the author of the Letter to the Ephesians writes, “Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time…”

            Making the most of the time.

            Making the most of the time.

            We’re all fully capable of wasting time. I do it and I’m sure most of us do it.

            But, I think most of us at least try to make the most of the time we’ve been given.  
            Many of our parishioners – many of you - have had to work long and hard in order to support your families, to pay the bills, to create a better life for your children and maybe even for yourself.

            I don’t know everyone’s situation but I know the long hours that many of us put in or have put in at a job – or, sometimes, at multiple jobs. I know the long hours some of us spend or have spent just looking for a job.

            I worry about some of you because I know how long and hard you work.

            And, it’s not just adults. I know how hard kids have to work in school, often, unfortunately, in less than ideal circumstances, and then later they – you - have to deal with homework and maybe an afterschool job or family responsibilities.

            And I know how careful you must be to make the most of the time that’s not spent working or in school. I know that time with family and friends, time for rest and recreation, and to time to pray and to worship is limited and must be used carefully.

            “Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time…”

            For a little over two years now, here at St. Paul’s we have done a pretty good job of making the most of the time.

            In fact, it’s been intense, hasn’t it?

            There are many more people here every Sunday. We are the biggest we’ve been in many years. People are choosing to make the most of their time by worshiping here. Our longtime faithful parishioners have stuck with St. Paul’s and in many cases deepened their involvement. Some who had drifted away have returned. And, wonderful new people have found us, put down roots here, bringing exciting gifts, new ideas, and infectious energy.

            We have continued what was already in place and expanded with weekday worship, Craft Guild, Yoga, Stone Soup, and more.

            We have made significant capital improvements – including the air conditioning that I know I’m very grateful for on this very hot day.

            We have made new and exciting connections with the community and are now seen as a community center or as one person said to me,  St. Paul’s is “one of the beating hearts in the body of this community.”

            And, our financial generosity to the church has grown enormously.

            Many of us have pledged – almost everybody, really, and the last few of you still can – and many of us are giving sacrificially, choosing to deny ourselves in order to support the work of the church.

            But.

            Those of you who have looked at our budget know that St. Paul’s doesn’t have enough money to pay the salary of a full-time priest and to keep doing all that we’re doing – and to do even more than what we’re doing.

            So, what to do?

            Since I want to stay here and continue the great work we’ve begun together I had just begun to try to think creatively of what I might do on the side to make up the difference in my salary.

            Drive for über?

            Wait tables at Carvao, the cool new restaurant on Bergen Avenue?

            Slice the bagels at Wonder Bagels?

            Deliver pies for Prince of Pizza?

            I was just beginning to try to think “creatively” when suddenly I spotted (on Facebook, if you can believe it!) that St. Peter’s Prep – my alma mater and where I taught before going to seminary - was looking for a Religion Teacher.

            I said to Sue, mostly jokingly, “Maybe I should go for it!”

            But then I thought, “Maybe I should go for it!”

            Well, to cut to the chase, I did go for it and they hired me.

            This amazing and unexpected development solves a lot of our problems.

            I will continue here at St. Paul’s as your rector. Sue and I will still be next door in the rectory. But, the church will only need to pay me half time. And, I’ll get my health insurance through school so that large expense is also taken out of our budget.

            Here at St. Paul’s, we will be dependent only on God and our own generosity.

            And, believe me, we can use the savings for all sorts of things, including some capital improvements like the front stairs, and reducing how much money we take each month from the church’s investments to pay our bills.

            And, as I’ve mentioned to you before, I’ve always missed teaching and this gives me the chance to get back in the classroom teaching religion – uniting both of my vocations as priest and teacher, truly making the most of my time.

            This amazing and unexpected development not only solves problems but it also creates a lot of opportunities for St. Paul’s.

            It’s true that I won’t be able to do quite as much as I’ve been doing here for the past two years. But, you know what? I don’t have to. Because:

            St. Paul’s is stable, healthy, and growing.

            So, now is the time for all of us to make the most of our time– it’s time for all of us to make the most of our time by giving ourselves in loving service to this church and to this community.

            So, go ahead, bring in items for the food pantry or volunteer at Stone Soup.

            Go ahead, volunteer to be an usher, or an acolyte, or a lector, or a chalice-bearer, or a Sunday School teacher. Volunteer to help with the altar guild, allowing us to worship so beautifully each week.

            Go ahead, help the Craft Guild knit prayer shawls for the sick and little hats for babies.

            Go ahead, help with the garden. Don’t worry, a more experienced gardener will tell you if it’s a weed or a plant we want to keep.

            Go ahead, create some new ministry we haven’t thought up yet.

            And, yes, go ahead, make your pledge – or edge up your pledge – to St. Paul’s.

            Because, you know, this is the place where we truly make the most of the time.

            This is the place where we make the most of the time – this is where we receive the living bread – this is where we receive Jesus – who feeds us – who abides with us – and with whom we live forever.

            So, together, like Solomon, let’s pray for God’s great gift of wisdom – the wisdom we need to make the most of the time we have been given – the wisdom to make the most of our time together here at St. Paul’s.

            “Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time…”

            Amen.