Tag Archives: God

On Practicing Daily Love…

15 Wednesday Feb 2023

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Photo credit: https://www.foodandwine.com/news/most-popular-valentines-day-candy-every-state-2022

As our girls age, they take on more independence.  Recently, that took the form of preparing Valentines to exchange with classmates.  Our younger daughter had already done this for years, so she knew the drill.  In fact, I came downstairs to find her packaging the Valentines kits we had procured.  As she wrapped up, she explained to me she was leaving one Valentine undone for the new kid in her class.  “I don’t know him well enough yet.”  I asked her why that would prevent her from addressing a Valentine to him, and she explained how each person was receiving a personalized note from her.  “Dear X, You are kind.  Happy Valentine’s Day.”  Or, “Dear Y, I like your laugh.”  And another, “Dear Z, You are fun to play with.” 

Yesterday, as she packaged up the completed Valentines, I asked her what she wrote for the new student.  She settled on, “Dear W, I like how calm you are.”  I sent her off to school in awe, wishing I could claim credit for the thoughtful, generous kid she has become, but knowing I could not claim credit for her Valentine kindness.

The more I thought about her notes, the more I thought how my daughter has internalized the loving eyes of God.  Thinking of faults in others is easy.  Somedays we can think of nothing but those faults.  But thinking of goodness in each person is actually harder than it seems – especially for that coworker whose moods drive you crazy, that committee member who always stirs the pot in meetings, or that family member who is always criticizing you or your choices.  I can attest to the fact that as lovely as my daughter’s notes were, she has registered complaints about almost every classmate of hers at some point in the school year.

Instead of dwelling on the glory (or lack) of romantic love in your life this February, I invite you instead to adopt the practice of daily love.  Maybe you start with the people in your life who bring you joy.  Let them know which of their attributes you really appreciate.  But then try daily love with the hard ones in your life:  the curmudgeon, the nagger, the expert in passive aggression.  Even if you cannot immediately say the words aloud, challenge yourself to think of one lovely thing about that person.  When you finally gain the courage, then find a way to share that loving regard – maybe aloud, maybe in a quick email or text, maybe in an old-fashioned card.  I can’t wait to hear how the practice of daily loves starts shifting your eyesight!

Sermon – Matthew 2.1-12, EP, YA, January 8, 2023

11 Wednesday Jan 2023

Posted by in Sermons

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

When I first read our Isaiah text today, I had not remembered that Isaiah had predicted kings coming to the Messiah with gold and frankincense.  I was thrilled to see the pairing of Isaiah and Matthew today, thinking of how wonderfully the Old and New Testaments’ stories were being woven together.  And since Matthew is known for emphasizing the idea of Jesus being the fulfillment of the Hebrew Scriptures, I thought we could not have a better invitation today than to “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you.”

But the more I read this week, the more I realized that the math is not so simple.  We do not simply get “Isaiah plus Matthew equals fulfillment.”  In fact, the introduction of Isaiah 60 helps us see that Jesus’ story is much more complicated than Jesus’ story appears at first glance.  Isaiah 60 is written about the city of Jerusalem.  About 600 years before Jesus is born, the people of Israel return to Jerusalem after exile, to a ruined city.  To these disheartened peoples, Isaiah writes this poem to encourage them and to predict the ways in which Jerusalem will return to Jerusalem’s former glory.  The poet believes that Jerusalem will be a hub of international trade, becoming once again a prosperous, productive city where, “Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.” 

The wise men from the East in Matthew’s gospel likely knew of Isaiah 60.[i]  They journey to Jerusalem because they know about this text, and they bring their gold, frankincense, and myrrh because Jerusalem is where they expect to find this king of peace and prosperity.  But when they finally arrive to inquire of Herod about this new king, Herod panics.  Herod runs to his own advisors, demanding an explanation of Isaiah 60, wanting to hear all about these multitudes of camels and these extravagant gifts.  That is when the story takes a twist.  According to Herod’s chief priests and scribes, Isaiah 60 is not where these wise men should be looking at all.  Instead, the prophecy they seek comes from Micah 5, which says, “And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.”[ii]  Herod calls for the wise men, tells them the actual location of this new king, and the rest is history.

What is interesting in this switch within Matthew are the differences between Jerusalem and Bethlehem.  Jerusalem is the city that Isaiah promises will be the thriving, prosperous city – where the king of kings could easily make his home.  And yet, Bethlehem is where the king actually appears.  Not in the thriving, bustling, shiny city, but in a rural, dusty, unpretentious town.  No one expects such a place for their king.  They expect their king to live in the beautiful, prosperous city they have developed, not in some shabby town that does not hold the same prestige as their glorious, revitalized city.

I have been wondering in what ways we too might be like most of the characters in this story – expecting to find greatness in our lives in the obvious places as opposed to in the less likely places.  As we emerge from the pandemic, we find ourselves tentatively trying to return to a sense of normalcy.  But the trauma of these last few years sometimes fills us of with longing about pre-COVID times instead of wondering what our new reality can be.  Yes, the pandemic hurt and continues to hurt many people, sending more people into unemployment, to food pantries, and to government assistance.  But in those supposed glory days before the pandemic, many of us were spending more than we had, assuming lives we could not afford, and forgetting the poor in the process.  In some ways our prosperity gave us permission to forget each other and encouraged us to focus solely on ourselves.  We got lost in the prosperity instead of finding the kind of people that God invites us to be.

What is interesting to me in our story from Matthew is the reaction of the wise men.  They do not scoff at Herod’s insight.  They do not hear about Bethlehem and begin to ponder whether they really want to see this journey through or not.  They, as learned intellectuals and powerful men, do not second-guess Herod’s new interpretation through Micah over Isaiah.  Instead, “rather than hesitate or resist, they reorganize their wealth and learning, and reorient themselves and their lives around a baby with no credentials.”[iii]  The funny thing is that Bethlehem is about nine miles south of Jerusalem.  These men, who have done numerous calculations, a detailed study of prophecies, and have already made a long journey following a star, have missed their mark by nine miles.  Though Herod shares the insight about Micah for personal gain, imagine how different the story would be had Herod’s chief priests and scribes not remembered Micah 5, let alone if the wise men had been too proud not to hear this fresh insight. 

The response of the wise men is one of letting go of one’s own expectations and trusting that God continues to reveal truth that may not be congruent with what hard work and experience would lead one to anticipate.  As one scholar explains, what the wise men learn is that the journey with God is “not about security and prosperity, but about vulnerability, neighborliness, generosity, a modest future with spears turned into pruning hooks and swords of plowshares.”[iv]  The wise men show us that the truly wise are always willing to accept that God may reveal truth that is counter to anything else we know, but that is full of greatness and joy.

Our invitation today is an invitation into the same boldness of the wise men.  Our invitation is to let the vulnerability of Micah disrupt the self-congratulation of Isaiah, realizing that although we might expect God to redeem us in the way we anticipate, granting us favor and privilege, we might instead experience that God redeems us through much more simple, humble ways.  Our invitation is to be bold enough to keep journeying with God, even when we are presented with information that might steer our journey in a direction we never expected or desired.  Our invitation is to remember that nine miles may not be a lot, but nine miles can be the difference between a manipulative, power-hungry king, and a humble, vulnerable king who can transform our lives into ones focused not on ourselves but on our neighbors and the greater good of all of us.  The question for us, both as individuals and as a community of faith, is what dusty road we have been avoiding.  The promise is that the dusty road will lead us to a connection with our Savior, who is so tremendous, that we too will drop everything and pay homage to our King.  Amen.          

[i] Walter Brueggemann, “Off by Nine Miles,” Christian Century, vol. 118, no. 35, December 19-26, 2001, 15.

[ii] Matthew 2.6

[iii] Brueggemann, 15.

[iv] Brueggemann, 15.

Sermon – Matthew 1.18-25, A4, YA, December 18, 2022

21 Wednesday Dec 2022

Posted by in Sermons

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

I have always loved stories and images of Mary and the Christ Child.  Mary is revered around the world, a patron saint to many, an intercessor for others (just think of all the “Hail Mary”s said globally), and a spiritual companion to some.  I remember in the Holy Land visiting a chapel honoring Mary, the mother of Jesus.  The chapel commissioned artists from around the world to depict their unique cultural version of Mary and Child.  The walls are lined with these floor-to-ceiling renderings of the sacred pair.  I was so taken with the images that I now have my own collection of Mary and Child paintings in my office. 

I also remember that same day in the Holy Land, after spending what felt like hours meditating with these stunning paintings, then going down the road to a chapel dedicated to Joseph.  The chapel was much smaller, rather nondescript, and quite frankly, easily forgettable.  The only real memorable thing about the chapel is how distinctly different the Joseph chapel is from the Mary chapel. 

I am struck this year, particularly as we baptize little Melody, how glad I am that we get Joseph’s story this Advent as opposed to Mary’s.  On baptism Sundays with children, we have two realities.  The first reality is the adorable, belovedness of the child, the glossy photos with family and fonts, the perfect hopefulness of initiating a child of God into the family of faith.  We often skim over the second reality.  We will hear right at the beginning of the baptism some questions for the family about renouncing Satan, evil powers of the world, and sinful desires.  I often joke with the family how inappropriate talking about evil seems at a child’s baptism until you remember those painful sleepless nights of new parenting.  But the reason we talk about that second reality is because we are initiating someone into the life of faith, and for those of us who have been at the life of faith for a while, we know the life of faith is not all roses, glossy photos, and cake.  There will be real struggles.

And that is why I love that we start off Melody’s journey with a story about Joseph.  We are told Joseph is a righteous man.  He is devoted to God and lives an ethical life.  He represents reality number one of baptism.  But then, Joseph is presented with reality number two.  When he learns Mary is pregnant before their marriage is consummated, he has three options:  the harsh one would be to have her publicly held responsible, most likely by stoning; the generous one he plans to choose of quietly divorcing her, which saves her life, but will leave her in poverty with child in tow; or the unheard of third one, especially for a righteous man, of marrying her anyway and living forever in scandal.  As one scholar explains, “In choosing Joseph to be Jesus’s earthly father, God leads a righteous man with an impeccable reputation straight into doubt, shame, scandal, and controversy…[God] requires Joseph to embrace a mess he has not created, to love a woman whose story he doesn’t understand, to protect a baby he didn’t father, to accept an heir who is not his son.  In other words, God’s messy plan of salvation requires Joseph – a quiet, cautious, status quo kind of guy – to choose precisely what he fears and dreads the most.  The fraught, the complicated, the suspicious, and the inexplicable.”[i]

I would much rather Melody start her faith journey off with a story that lets her know, honestly and unequivocally, how messy this journey will be.  We have a hint of that messiness in Matthew’s gospel from the beginning.  In the verses before what we heard today, is a long list of Joseph’s forefathers: from Abraham, who almost kills his son Ishmael and twice risks the life and safety of his wife Sarah, to Jacob, the trickster who steals his inheritance and livelihood twice, to David, who steals another man’s wife and has her husband murdered, to Tamar, who pretends to be a sex worker, and Rahab who is one.  The genealogy of Christ is a “long line of broken, imperfect, dishonorable, and scandalous people.”  As Debie Thomas explains, “The perfect backdrop, I suppose, for God’s relentless work of restoration, healing, and hope.”[ii]

That’s what telling Joseph’s story does for Melody and all of us today.  Joseph reminds us that our faith journey will be messy.  Our faith journey will not take us where we think our journey will.  Our faith journey will invite us to love people we never thought we could.  Our faith journey will sometimes seem meaningless or small, like that Joseph’s chapel in the Holy Land.  But as the angel tells Joseph, so the angel of the Lord tells us today, “Do not be afraid.”  Do not be afraid of the messiness of this journey.  Do not be afraid of going where society may deem too messy.  Do not be afraid to love with abandon, even if your loving is not seen by the crowds, or recognized all over the world.  When we come out of the waters of baptism, we walk right into the mess – because the mess of the world is where God is.  And we want to be there too.  Amen.

[i] Debie Thomas, Into the Mess & Other Jesus Stories:  Reflections on the Life of Christ (Eugene, OR:  Cascade Books, 2022), 12.

[ii] Thomas, 13.

On Not Feeling so Merry and Bright…

15 Thursday Dec 2022

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

Content Warning:  This post addresses mental illness and death by suicide. 

Yesterday, I received the news that Stephen “tWitch” Boss died by suicide.  I first encountered tWitch on the show So You Think You Can Dance.  He was full of life, talent, and entertainment.  He became beloved, and I was thrilled to see him on other seasons of the show.  Several years later, he joined The Ellen Degeneres Show as her DJ and co-host and later as a co-executive producer.  It seemed the perfect television match as I couldn’t imagine two people fuller of joy.

Perhaps talking about someone in showbusiness seems frivolous, but I can’t help thinking about the contraction of someone who exuded and brought forth so much joy also being one who struggled with mental health.  But that is the danger with mental illness:  so often we think mental illness is obvious.  Mental illness is just as hidden to the naked eye as heart disease or cancer.  Mental illness is just as much of an illness as any other:  requiring treatment, medication, and medical help.  And yet, somehow, we often blame mental illness patients for their illness in ways we would never blame a cancer patient. 

I am especially mindful of tWitch’s death because I can imagine the pressure this time of year places on those with mental illness.  We have been through a tremendously hard and isolating two and a half years, and now that the “most wonderful time of the year” is upon us, we all feel pressure to feel, do, and be certain ways.  Equally tragic to tWitch’s death is the impact of his death on his wife and little children.  I suspect Christmas joy will be quite hard to muster this year for all of them.

That is why I am so grateful for services like our church’s “Blue Christmas” service.  The emotional pressure to feel, do, and be certain ways is at its highest at Christmas time.  We are living up to external pressures to be “merry and bright,” all while experiencing loss, pain, sadness, suffering, loneliness, unfulfilled expectations, and grief.  Some of us are better at putting on our happy faces, but most of us bring to Christmas a whole other set of emotions that we do not talk about in polite circles.  Our Blue Christmas service provides a different circle.  Call it “impolite” if you like, but I find it a most sacred circle of trust where people can lay down their burdens and be reminded that they are not alone.  If you need such a sacred circle, I hope you will join us on December 21 at 7:00 pm (the service will be livestreamed and archived should you need it at another time and/or place).  You do not need to say or do anything while you are here.  We will not ask you any questions about why you are here.  You are simply welcome to the space, to gather in with the Holy Spirit, and to feel a sense of love and acceptance, as we remind you how you are a beloved child of God. 

If you’re thinking about suicide, are worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline and Crisis Textline is available 24/7 across the United States.  They are available for everyone, free, and confidential.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:

(800) 273-8255

Crisis Textline:

Text ASKUS to 741741

On Living into the Dream…

23 Wednesday Nov 2022

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Photo credit: https://www.cccnz.nz/intergenerational-ministry_cfm/

I served in a parish once whose strategic initiative was to grow the church.  At a leadership retreat, when the facilitator asked us about our intention to grow, a key leader said, “Well we want to grow.  But not too much.”  His words were a shock to my system.  Something I had seen as a common goal that everyone supported and for which I was working suddenly seemed to be in question.  I was left doubting how we could possibly move forward if we were not together in our sense of direction.

When I came to Hickory Neck, I was regaled with stories of this parish’s love for children.  The stories of children sitting in the window wells in the Historic Chapel (before there was a New Chapel), and toddlers crawling under the pews only to be captured and passed back overhead to mom and dad slowly became my stories.  As I learned about our surrounding community, which draws both young families and recent retirees, our collective identity and purpose became clear.  We are a multigenerational church whose entire sense of purpose is bringing together the generations to experience, glorify, and serve God in community.

So, you can imagine my shock recently when I was told that one of our families was made to feel as if they were not welcome at Hickory Neck because their children were too loud.  My dismay was two-fold.  First, I am deeply sympathetic to our families with young children.  That they have their children dressed and in church by the time worship starts is a feat so laudable they should receive gold stars at church.  Despite a desire to bring one’s family to church, I promise you, getting there and staying there is no small feat.  It can be stressful enough to make you wonder why you do it at all.

But second, I could not reconcile something so contradictory to our core values and sense of purpose.  As a church that values hospitality and living fully into its multigenerational identity, we know those things are inherently messy.  But every squeal, cry, and wiggle are the sounds of life for the church.  Every child who is loved in our space comes to know the love of Christ, every parent who is encouraged in our space comes to experience God’s grace, and every surrogate grandma, grandpa, auntie, or uncle who experiences the “noise” of church has the opportunity to know the Holy Spirit.

Claiming an identity is the easy part.  Living that identity is the hard part.  We will all have days where we fail miserably and succeed fabulously.  Just this Sunday, the same day as the other incident, a visitor intimated to me, “You know, I can tell your church really supports young families.  When my children were that age, I found most churches were not welcoming.  Honestly, it made it hard to go to church.”  This week, I encourage us to live into the reality we have claimed and that, most days, others experience.  It will not be easy.  It will be loud, messy, and some days frustrating.  But it will also be heart-warming, sacred, and beautiful.  This is the Christian witness into which we are called.  But we can only achieve it together:  young and old, loud and quiet, energized and exhausted.    

Sermon – 2 Thessalonians 1.1-4, 11-12, P26, YC, October 30, 2022

03 Thursday Nov 2022

Posted by in Sermons

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I spent the last week at Princeton Theological Seminary, concluding an Executive Leadership certificate program called Iron Sharpening Iron.  For the past two years, the clergy participants and I have journeyed together, all facing the unique challenges of this liminal time for the Church, but also all hopeful that God is doing a new thing in the Church.  In the spirit of camaraderie that has developed over that time, we found ourselves asking each other this week, “So, how are you really doing?  How is your church?”  This is the kind of setting where clergy feel comfortable enough to let down their guard and share life with an honesty that we might not in other settings.  And I confess to you, every time that question was asked of me, and I took a moment to really think about the question, the answer was the same, “Things are actually really good.”  In truth, I think I was just as surprised by my answer as every other clergy person was.  I had no reason in that space to posture or try to make myself or our ministry look good, especially since most of the participants were not even Episcopalians.  I just knew when pondering how we are really doing, at the core of all that has happened in the last two to three years, we at Hickory Neck are doing really well.

I suppose I could have talked about how many of our longtime parishioners and many of our new members are online participants exclusively.  I suppose I could have talked about how many ministries are having shortages of volunteers, causing us to rethink what is possible because we cannot sustain the volunteer leadership.  Or I suppose I could have talked about how we stepped out on faith by hiring two part-time clergy associates this year, knowing that our financial giving would need to grow to support the programmatic needs of our growing church.  But those are realities I do not see as challenges; instead, I see them as opportunities to be the Church in new and creative ways as invited by the Holy Spirit.  Certainly, I want our in-person attendance in worship to grow – but I want our online ministry to grow and thrive concurrently.  Certainly, I would love some of our ministries to return to how we experienced them pre-pandemic – but I also see sacred invitations into new forms of ministry that may mean letting go of other forms.  Certainly, I want to be fiscally judicious within our budget – but I also want to create enough space in our budget to grow ministries that matter and make an impact both inside these walls and outside these walls. 

Perhaps what I mean is I look at Hickory Neck the same way that Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy look at their church in Thessalonians.  The writer of second Thessalonians, which some debate could be Paul or someone within the Pauline community, is writing to a community of believers facing persecution and afflictions.  The text is not clear what those persecutions and afflictions are, but we know the church of the Thessalonians is suffering.  In those days, persecutions and afflictions were often seen as signs of the end times, likely leading to a great deal of fear and anxiety.[i]  And so, we hear this letter meant to commend, encourage, and thank the community, and help them interpret meaning in the midst of suffering.  But the writer does not have to struggle too much to find that encouragement because what the writer has seen about this church is that they have developed an uncommon unity and love for one another.[ii]  And that gift of unity and love is a gift to be celebrated and honored.  That gift is something for which to give thanks.

And that is what we are doing today on this In-Gathering Sunday.  We are giving thanks for the ways in which Hickory Neck has experienced uncommon unity and love for one another, especially as we emerge from what has been a tumultuous couple of years in our community and the world.  We are giving thanks for the ways in which God has sustained us through afflictions and persecutions.  We are giving thanks for the bountiful abundance in our lives, when the world around us would want us to see scarcity, and we are returning that abundance in the form of our time, talent, and treasure.  And, so, friends, as we give thanks, I read to you our letter from second Thessalonians, paraphrased for today:

To the church of Hickory Neck:  Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.  I must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters, as is right, because your faith is growing abundantly, and the love of everyone of you for one another is increasing.  Therefore, I myself boast of you among the churches of God for your steadfastness and faith during all your persecutions and the afflictions that you are enduring…To this end, I always pray for you, asking that our God will make you worthy of God’s call and will fulfil by God’s power every good resolve and work of faith, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.  Amen.

[i] Guy D. Nave, Jr. “Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. C, Vol. 4 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 257.

[ii] Robert E. Dunham, “Homiletical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. C, Vol. 4 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 257.

On the Power of Yes…

19 Wednesday Oct 2022

Posted by in reflection

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Photo credit: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/darwins-subterranean-world/201809/the-power-yes

The last couple of weeks, I have been hit by unexpected asks.  While away on a work-related trip, I got an urgent text from one of my daughters needing help on a homework assignment.  While I was not required to be somewhere else, I certainly had other work plans for that hour that I would need to forego.  Just this past Monday, our unofficial laundry day, my other daughter asked if we could play games after dinner.  I assure you I had a mound of laundry that needed switching out, meaning I would not finish laundry that night.  Meanwhile, a long-time friend is in town and would like to renew his wedding vows at my church this Sunday.  This Sunday already feels like an “overbooked” Sunday with picking up Fall Festival wares, welcoming a new staff member, and hosting a notable guest preacher. 

I tend to be a planner who gets in my head how things are going to go.  Unexpected asks often mean foregoing a plan, shifting expectations, and at a base level, saying no to something else in order to say yes to the ask.  And if I am really being honest, my gut reaction is often to say “no.”  No is easier.  No does not complicate your life, does not require you to do any work, and does not mean having to problem-solve.  There are countless parenting studies that say the best method of parenting is to find as many yeses as you can.  The idea is not to become a parent-doormat, but to build up children’s self-esteem and confidence, improve emotional intelligence, and develop trust in the parent-child bond.  Yes-parenting is a response to research that says parents say no to children about 400 times a day!

I am not saying I have mastered yes-parenting, but I have begun to wonder about the power of yes.  That hour of homework-help last week meant a deeper connection with my daughter at the end of the call and a sense of accomplishment on my own part (trust me, parenting more often makes you feel like a failure than an accomplishment).  That hour of playing games brought back so many fond memories of playing games with my parents and even my children (before technology took hold!).  And those renewed wedding vows are going to make this Sunday one of the most exciting Sundays we have had in a while.  How can I say no to more joy?

I wonder what yeses you are being invited into this week.  Sometimes they are tiny yeses:  agreeing to take a picture for strangers with their cell phone.  Sometimes the yeses are inconvenient:  giving up on your planned activity to help with something else.  And sometimes the yeses are huge:  taking a new job, going on a date with someone new, trying a new activity to meet new friends.  God is constantly offering opportunities for us to say yes:  yeses that involve our time, talent, and treasure.  Our invitation this week is to start saying yes – maybe tiny yeses, but maybe some really big ones.  I cannot wait to hear about your yes adventures!

Sermon – Jeremiah 36.27-37.2, VTS Convocation Evensong, October 11, 2022

19 Wednesday Oct 2022

Posted by in Sermons

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

This sermon was delivered to Virginia Theological Seminary on the occasion of our annual Convocation for alumni, faculty and staff, and seminarians.

Photo credit: The Rev. Matthew Tucker

I live in a pretty “purple” district in Southern Virginia.  My Congressman represents a different party than my own, but I make a point to stay on his mailing list as a way to remind him that he represents a politically diverse district.  Every month he sends out polls, and I dutifully respond to them.  But with every survey I find myself frustrated.  My Congressman either has never taken a class in crafting an unbiased survey or he is simply not interested in different opinions.  The questions are always phrased something like, “In your opinion, how bad of a job is our president doing:  terrible, really bad, pretty bad, or I’m not sure.”  Or without any nuance or explanation about the background of the issue, the poll will ask something like, “The Congress wants to pay illegal immigrants who knowingly broke the law hundreds of thousands of dollars.  Should we pay these illegal immigrant criminals, yes or no?”  Or, one of my favorites, “Which of these issues should be the priority of Congress?” (PS, none of the options listed talk about caring for the poor or our neighbor, and there definitely isn’t an “other” category).  But I dutifully take the surveys, hoping my voice is part of my representative’s decision making.

I have been pondering the ministry of Jeremiah and thinking his prophetic ministry is a bit like trying to engage my Congressman.  For those of us not taking Old Testament this semester, Jeremiah is prophesying in a time of political decline.  The northern kingdom, Israel fell to Assyria nearly a hundred years before, and Judah remains in a tenuous situation.  The Assyrians are still in control, but in the course of the book of Jeremiah, Babylon defeats Assyria and takes control of Judah.  There are rebellions against Babylon, in particular by King Jehoiakim who we hear about today, but they are eventually unsuccessful.[i]  Like any good prophet, Jeremiah is attempting to get the people and king to repent and return to the Lord.  And like all people of all time, the people refuse to listen to God.  King Jehoiakim is particularly egregious in this refusal.  In fact, just verses before our reading, the King has his attendant read Jeremiah’s prophetic scroll three or four columns at a time, then cuts those columns off the scroll and throws them in a fire.  King Jehoiakim is not alarmed by the prophecy, and certainly not repentant. 

But here’s the funny part.  In the verses we read today, the Lord tells Jeremiah to rewrite the entire scroll and add in a little final judgment.  Like me, sitting down with yet another poll from my Congressman, he sits down and does the same thing over again.  I have been of two minds about this passage.  On the one hand, and no offense toward the Lord’s prophetic practices and policies, but how many times are we to keep doing the same thing and expecting different results.  As if King Jehoiakim is going to receive the second scroll and say, “Oh, a second scroll?  Okay, I guess I won’t burn this one and will change my ways!”  If this pandemic has taught us anything this pandemic has taught us we cannot keep doing Church the way we always have and expect the Church to thrive (or in biblical terms, to repent and return to the Lord).  This pandemic has made us nimble, agile, creative, and versatile.  This pandemic made us stop thinking about hybrid ministries and digital relevance and demanded we start doing and being those things.  And God help us if our churches just want to “return to normal” after the pandemic – if we just want to write another scroll. 

But as I mentioned, I am of two minds on this passage.  On the other hand, despite what seems like poor strategy on the Lord’s part, God’s covenantal relationship with us has never really made sense.  The entire salvation narrative is about failure after failure on our part as the people of God to listen and respond to the Lord.  Promise after promise, covenant after covenant, even the sending of God’s Son has meant the Lord’s corporate strategy is a case study in what not to do to thrive in business.  But that’s what we love about the Lord, right?  God keeps writing another scroll, God keeps giving another chance, God keeps holding out hope and promise because God’s love is not meted out in a logical, economical way.  Despite all of the innovation which has been entirely life giving during this pandemic, in some ways, what we have offered to a hurting world is the same as what we have always offered:  a community of faith, redeemed by God’s grace, commissioned to love God, self, and neighbor.  Perhaps that is why I am of two minds about this text.  Although this pandemic has not changed who we are and what we offer a broken world, this pandemic has changed how we are.  Our core values as the Episcopal Church have not changed.  But throughout this pandemic we have learned that how we go about living into those core values certainly can, should, and hopefully has changed.  And, as the Genesis writer would say, “…it was very good.”

In this particular season of the Church, many of us are feeling a longing for rest, for relief from constant pivoting, for a sense of normalcy.  Many of us would like to sit down and just write the same scroll over again.  In Jeremiah’s day that second scroll meant suffering and exile, and there would be more than twenty years before the people of God would see God’s promise of restoration realized.[ii]  But I do not think that is the invitation from scripture today.  I do not think the Lord is inviting the Church to write another scroll or fill out another poll.  We have a whole Bible full of examples of how doing the same thing over and over does not lead to the fulfillment of the kingdom of God.  Instead, the invitation from scripture today is to see the patterns of the resistance to love, and find a new way to love.  God is not inviting us to change our “who” or our “what,” but to change our “how.”  Your “how” might be different from mine.  But Jeremiah shows us time and again that the same repeated “how” does not turn hearts.  Our work in this season is to listen to what new “hows” the Holy Spirit is showing us, and then be willing to be vulnerable enough to try them.  Because, Lord knows, we do not need another scroll.  Amen. 

[i] Josey Bridges Synder, “Jeremiah,” The CEB Women’s Bible, (Nashville:  Common English Bible, 2016), 953.

[ii] 953.

Sermon – Luke 16.1-13, P20, YC, September 18, 2022

05 Wednesday Oct 2022

Posted by in Sermons

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

About a month ago, President Biden announced a plan to offer student loan relief for low- to middle-income earning borrowers.  The reaction has been all over the place.  Those owing thousands of dollars have expressed tremendous gratitude and relief, often chained to an albatross of debt with no hope of financial stability.  Critics have argued that taxpayers should not bear the financial burden of funding what is essentially seen as privilege and access to financial advancement that is only accessible to a few.  Supporters have pointed to the fact that the cost of college has tripled since the 1980s, even accounting for inflation, while things like Pell grants, which once covered 80% of college costs now only cover 33%.[i]  Meanwhile, I have heard critics say, “I had to pay all my student loans back myself.  So should they!”

What has struck me in this debate, and quite frankly any debate about money these days, is we tend to take a very individualist view of the issue.  We debate and argue about what is fair to me personally, why one individual should be privileged over another, or why he or she gets more or less than me.  But what we rarely question is the financial system within which we operate, the very structure surrounding and shaping our relationships that gives no regard for you, or me, or her, or him, or them. 

That is what our tantalizing gospel lesson is all about.  A wealthy man’s manager is accused of mismanaging funds and is facing termination.  In the face of the threat, the manager sneakily collaborates with the rich man’s debtors to reduce their debts – anywhere from 25-50% of what they owed.[ii]  And when the boss finds out, we all hold our breath, waiting for the wealthy man’s wrath.  But the story goes sideways.  The owner compliments the manager for his shrewdness – instead of anger, he has the owner’s admiration.  And then, as if to keep us disoriented, Jesus says the enigmatic:  make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth. 

When we tell stories in Godly Play, like our kids are hearing today in the Narthex, the last thing we imagine is a lesson where the teacher says, “Okay, kids, today I want to teach about how to be manipulative and sneaky in case you get into trouble.”  So, what is going on in this parable?  Our first problem seems to be in the title of the parable, “The parable of the dishonest steward.”[iii]  Perhaps if this parable was called, “The parable of the corrupting power of money,” we might be in a better place to understand what Jesus is trying to teach us.  You see, Jesus is living in “…Roman-occupied Galilee in the first century.  Rich landlords and rulers [are] loan-sharks, using exorbitant interest rates to amass more land and to disinherit peasants of their family land, in direct violation of biblical covenantal law.  The rich man…along with his steward or debt collector, [are] both exploiting desperate peasants.”[iv]  To Jesus, this is not a story about an individual behaving badly, but about a system that is failing to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God.[v] 

So, what is this “make friends with dishonest wealth” stuff?  What Jesus is saying is wealth has the power to corrupt and shape an unjust system for all.  Our primary responsibility as followers of Christ is to love our neighbors.  We are not likely to be able to dismantle entire economic systems.  But we can tend to relationships with others, not seeing that I get fairness personally, or even that I get testy about what one person has over what I have, but seeing that we are responsible for one another.  In our relationships with one another – the wealthy, the poor, and everyone in between – and for that matter, those who go to college, those who do not, and everyone in between – our relationships with one another and our ability to see one another’s humanity and beloved status before God is our work. 

Now, loving each other (even those people we do not particularly like) does not mean that we suddenly get to wipe our hands free of money.  In fact, one scholar argues this, “We not only are entrusted with the vision of the kingdom of heaven; we are given the treasures of the King!  Even in the present age, with the imperfect treasures of this world, we are stewards of God.”[vi]  We cannot escape the power of money.  But we can prioritize our care for one another, carefully and shrewdly showing the world how we can use the sometimes-corrupting power of money for good.  Our invitation this week is to hold on to the disorientation of this parable, examining how our relationships with others are being pushed and pulled by the power of money – and how we might more shrewdly use that power of money for good – for you, for me, and for everyone in between.  Amen.

[i] “FACT SHEET: President Biden Announces Student Loan Relief for Borrowers Who Need It Most,” The White House, August 24, 2022, as found at https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2022/08/24/fact-sheet-president-biden-announces-student-loan-relief-for-borrowers-who-need-it-most/ on September 17, 2022.

[ii]  Barbara Rossing, “Commentary on Luke 16:1-13,” Working Preacher, September 18, 2016, as found at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-25-3/commentary-on-luke-161-13-2 on September 17, 2022.

[iii] The idea of renaming this parable comes from Matt Skinner on the podcast, “#862: 15th Sunday after Pentecost (Ord. 25C) – September 18, 2022,” September 5, 2022 as found at https://www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/862-15th-sunday-after-pentecost-ord-25c-september-18-2022 on September 17, 2022.

[iv] Rossing.

[v] Micah 6.8

[vi] Helen Montgomery Debevoise, “Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. C, Vol. 4 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 96.

Sermon – Lk 11.1-13, P12, YC, July 24, 2010

05 Wednesday Oct 2022

Posted by in Sermons

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

The single most common topic I have been asked about in the course of my ministry, year in and year out, through crisis, through joys, through transitions, and change, young and old have approached me asking for one thing:  teach me how to pray.  The request is simple, yet complicated all at the same time.  You see, when someone asks me how they can pray a reel begins in my mind, flashing all the experiences of prayer I have seen in my lifetime:  the healing prayers that splayed someone to the ground in the Pentecostal church of my early childhood; the United Methodist prayers spoken extemporaneously from the heart; the hippy campus minister who always started prayer with silence so long you wondered if he had fallen asleep; the prayers written to accompany the prayer beads my fingers strung together; the stiff Episcopal collects that seem at the same time formulaic and beautiful; saying the Lord’s Prayer in Spanish, trying to keep up with the native speakers; silent prayers in the middle of the night as I seethed in my anger at God, with no words left; praying into a telephone that doubled as a speaker in the retirement home’s dining room; resorting to digital Pop-Up Prayers when a pandemic forced us into isolation.  When asked, “teach me to pray,” where can I possibly begin?!?

When the disciples ask Jesus to teach them how to pray, Jesus’ mind seems to be all over the place too.  Jesus begins his lesson with the actual text of the Lord’s Prayer.  Jesus says, “When you pray, say this…”  But Jesus does not stop his lesson there.  Jesus goes on to teach the disciples through three small vignettes. 

In the first vignette, the disciples hear about the man who refuses his friend bread in the middle of the night because he has already gone to bed.  The disciples learn through this funny battle of wills that their posture in prayer is to be persistently inquiring.  In fact, the word used in our translation today for “persistent” is also translated by some scholars as “shamelessness.” [i]  In the second vignette, the disciples are told in the instruction to ask, seek, and knock that God responds to their inquiries.  They learn here that their posture in prayer is a posture of action.  Prayer is to express their need to God, to search out God when they feel abandoned, and to cry out to God with a loud knock.  The final vignette compares the care of a parent with the care of God for the disciples.  The disciples learn that God’s love for them is greater than the instinctual, caring love of a parent for a child.  The disciples experience that abundance when they enter into a prayerful relationship with God. 

A vulnerable, active, abundant relationship with God sounds wonderful and easy enough.  The problem is the relationship Jesus describes is not easy.  We find it difficult to be continuously vulnerable, active, and overwhelmed by God in prayer.  In fact, we find simply remaining in prayer with God difficult.  When I was in seminary, I had a group of lay persons from my field education parish who met with me once a month to help me reflect on my ministry at the church.  One of my committee members, Joe, was notorious for keeping me on the spot in these meetings.  “So, Jennifer, how is your prayer life?” Joe would always ask me.  The first time he asked me that question, I stammered through some sort of reply about corporate and individual prayer.  But Joe wanted to know the specifics of what my prayer life entailed.  Joe’s monthly prodding was the first real experience I had with accountability in my prayer life.  Finally, after about a year of asking me about my prayer life, I asked Joe about his prayer life.  Joe explained that the reason he always asked me about my prayer life was because he struggled with his own prayer life.  His pushing me was a way of also pushing himself.  He knew that if I struggled to keep an engaged prayer life, he could gain some camaraderie in his own struggle; and if I was feeling particularly connected to God in prayer, he would be challenged to engage God with more intentionality.

The mutual support that Joe was unknowingly creating is the promise of our Gospel lesson today.  First Jesus gives the disciples words:  the Lord’s Prayer.  Once they own those words, they have an assuring entry into dialogue with God.  And once the disciples have that entry, they are assured of God’s presence in the prayer relationship.  God is the faithful friend, who gets up in the middle of the night to answer prayer.  God is the responding God who will answer, be present, and open doors through the prayer relationship.  God is the parent that our parents can never fully be because God’s love is more abundant than the disciples, as humans, can ever be.  Jesus does not promise that God will respond to the disciples’ prayers in a particular or specific way.  The disciples are not promised riches or earthly gain through a life in prayer.  But Jesus does promise that God will respond, will stay present with the disciples, and will love the disciples abundantly. 

Despite all the modes of prayer I have witnessed over time, perhaps the best advice is to start where Jesus does with the words of the Lord’s Prayer.  Jesus affirms for us today that if all you can pray is the Lord’s Prayer, then pray the Lord’s Prayer.  The vehicle of the Lord’s Prayer has the power to take us to that point of vulnerability with God.  The vehicle of the Lord’s Prayer has the power to push us to action, seeking God by asking for those basic needs, knowing that God provides beyond those needs.  The vehicle of the Lord’s Prayer has the power to remind us of the abundance we already experience – of daily food, of forgiveness of sins, of salvation.  Jesus’ words for you today are words of encouragement.  Your relationship through prayer with God is going to require you to be vulnerable and to engage, but your relationship through prayer with God will be marked with abundance.  And if you feel overwhelmed by that promise, then start today with these words, “Our Father, hallowed be your name…”  Amen.

[i] James A. Wallace, “Homiletical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr C, Vol. 3 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 291.