The Last Sermon

Fourth Sunday of Easter
Year B Revised Common Lectionary
Acts 4:5-12, John 10:11-18

[Signed facing the congregation.] Please sit. [Motion them to sit, if they don't.]

[Signed facing away from the congregation.] May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our redeemer.

[Facing the congregation.] Did you understand what I said? Well of course not, I had my back to you. Let me try again.

[Signed facing the congregation.] May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our redeemer.

Did you understand it that time? Probably not, unless you know ASL, American Sign Language.

Pido disculpas a nuestros hermanos y hermanas que hablan español. Un semestre de español en la universidad no es suficiente para hablar mi sermón en ambos idiomas.

Those of you who speak only English probably didn’t understand that either. I was apologizing to our Spanish speaking brothers and sisters because one semester of college Spanish isn’t enough for me to preach in both languages.

So here’s what I was saying at the beginning [signed and spoken]: May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our redeemer.

See how quickly something so familiar can become so incomprehensible? And by preaching primarily in one language, many members of the congregation will not fully understand what I’m saying this morning. This breaks a pretty clear rule about communication within a community. Being in a community means communicating clearly with one another so that everyone understands. Fortunately, this community has members that are bilingual, and a good number of folks who manage to talk WITH each other in simple words and phrases of both languages. These folks are practicing community. They are welcoming each other into deeper community.

Unfortunately, welcome isn’t a word we’ve used very much here lately. Saying farewell is something Grace Church has become accustomed to over the last few years. In many ways it has become our focus. And the focus of those on the periphery of the community. Have you noticed? Any time there's a hint that the parish may be closing, the pews are filled with folks who come to say goodbye.

And this month has been particularly painful with the departure of Betty and Abbott White, beloved members of this community for over 50 years. Of Shane and Clara Marcus, who shared their many gifts with us for the past year. And now me. At least as many people I know in the Betania part of the community have left us in the last year or so as well. In many ways, it has been a long goodbye.

In many ways, that is what the Easter Season is, Jesus’ long goodbye. After the shock of his death, the community he left behind is just beginning the grieving process when Jesus reappears among them. He consoles them. He encourages them. He teaches them. And while we watch Jesus through these 50 days in the Gospel readings, we also see his followers taking their first steps as a resurrection community in the first chapters of Acts. They go out to spread the good news. They teach, preach, heal, and encourage. AND they welcome new members. Their community is experiencing new and exciting things.

It is a season of both and. Jesus is present, and he is leaving. His followers are grieving, and they are engaging the world in new ways.

You, too are entering a season of both and. People are present, and they are leaving. You are grieving, and yet new and exciting things are on the horizon for you. Of course, things start to fall into place just as I leave. So look at this season as a new beginning, just as those of us who are leaving are also experiencing new beginnings.

So as I take my leave, I want to leave you with three things. First, to encourage you to listen to your leaders and learn from them the many ways to communicate with one another. And I’m not just talking about Lois, Jose, and Sally. Your lay leaders, both of Grace and Betania, are also showing you many things. Learn to communicate in ways that build relationships and trust, both of which help create a stronger community. Second, as you grieve, take advantage of the new opportunities coming your way. Go out and preach the good news. Teach, preach, heal, and encourage. AND welcome new people into the community.

Lastly, I leave you with a blessing.

The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace. (Numbers 6:24–26)

A Theological Reflection for Advent 3

For many adults attending church, the only Christian Formation/Education they receive is during the sermon. Our priest does this in a variety of ways. Sometimes she incorporates elements of Godly Play and Catechesis of the Good Shepherd into her sermons. Other times she does an interactive sermon, often using a form of Theological Reflection based on the methods we learn in Education for Ministry.

I got to a stuck place several times preparing my sermon for yesterday and started thinking about adapting the Godly Play Advent lessons to do with the congregation. But that got complicated in terms of what I'd need to bring and where I'd actually present it. Still contemplating my options, I looked up at the mantlepiece where I put out a few of the nativities from my collection, my eyes stopped on one that proved to be ideal for a theological reflection.

Here is what I presented to the congregation. We had some really good converstion.

I wonder what your thoughts might be?

= = = = = = = = = =

May the Words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

It’s the third Sunday of Advent, and I’m preaching. It’s a tradition!

And why do I preach on the third Sunday of Advent, Tevye the Dairyman might ask? Well I’ll tell you, he would continue. I don’t know, but it’s a tradition.

For those of you who don’t know Tevye, he is the narrator and main character of the musical Fiddler on the Roof, which is based on the short stories of Sholem Aleichem. Sholem Aleichem was a contemporary of Mark Twain and came from the Ukraine region of Russia. Fiddler is the story of life in Anatevka, a shtetl, or small town in Russia, where everyone’s lives are rooted in traditions.

I had a whole sermon prepared about the traditions of Grace Church and how today’s reading from Isaiah serves as a lens for us to view those traditions. But the more I thought about it, the less it sounded like something we, including myself, needed to hear today in the middle of Advent. So I brought something from a tradition that legend says goes back to Saint Francis and was probably brought to the Americas by the Spanish. This particular one is from Peru and is called a retablo.

I’m going to pass this around, so you can all look at it, touch it, hold it, examine it. While you’re doing this, I’d like you to think about these four questions:

What is the world like here?

What can go wrong in this world?

What challenges us in this world?

What could fulfill the promise of this world?

Don’t worry about remembering them all, I’ll repeat them once you’ve all had a chance to see the piece.

What is the world like here?

What can go wrong in this world?

What challenges us in this world?

What could fulfill the promise of this world?

When we look at our modern culture, what does it how does it view this world we’ve been talking about?

Drawing from this conversation, what are some of the things we believe? What positions do we hold?

What does this mean for us when we walk out those doors and return to the world?

It’s Not a Spectator Sport

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

Year A Revised Common Lectionary – Proper 18

Exodus 12:1-14, Psalm 149, Romans 13:8-14, Matthew 18:15-20

Grace Episcopal Church, Norwalk, CT



May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.



When I first pulled the readings for this Sunday I had no clue how I was going to pull a sermon from them. The origins of a holiday that isn’t really ours, a Psalm with a dark side, Paul reiterating in his own way Jesus’ Great Commandment, and Jesus himself telling us how to do reconciliation. What do you do with those? Well, actually, you can pull several sermons out of them, but it takes some work.



Sermons are a lot like the shawls being created by the participants in Grace’s Shawl Ministry. In that ministry we’re given a set of instructions—or we find some. But being given the instructions doesn’t knit or crochet the shawl. We have to choose yarn for the shawl and obtain knitting needles or a crochet hook. And does the shawl knit or crochet itself then? Nope. We have to pick up the needles or hook, take the yarn and do the actual knitting or crocheting. After a while you have to stop staring at the reading and your notes and start writing because the sermon isn’t going to write itself.



During my recent stay at Holy Cross Monastery I was reminded that crocheting without television, radio, or social conversation can be a time of prayer and contemplation. So while I was in the contemplating the readings phase, I spent some time crocheting, and a phrase came to mind that shed some light on the readings as a group.



Life is not a spectator sport.



Let’s look at the passage from Exodus. God provided leadership for the Hebrews: Moses and Aaron. God plagued the Egyptians with several ecological disasters and was getting ready to visit one last catastrophe upon them. In preparation, God gave the Hebrews a set of very explicit instructions. But here’s the thing. In order for this whole Exodus thing to happen, the Hebrews had to participate. They couldn’t just sit there and wait for someone else to do it. They had to be an active part of their own deliverance. Otherwise, their own firstborn would have died that night. And more than that, if they hadn’t followed the instructions, packed up and followed Moses out of Egypt, they’d still be there.



We do have a similar history involving our own parish. Grace Episcopal Church was founded over 120 years ago by members St. Paul’s on the Green who were unhappy with the direction that parish was taking, such as the Anglo-Catholic reforms sweeping through England and the United States. If those folks hadn’t petitioned the Diocese to form a new parish, raised the money to build a new church, and walked down the hill to their new home, there wouldn’t be a Grace Church.



Life is not a spectator sport.



Psalm 149 starts out pleasantly enough. The people sing, dance and play instruments to praise the Lord. Then it turns to the people wreaking vengeance on others as part of God’s judgment. That’s something that makes liberal and most middle of the spectrum Christians uncomfortable. But it is in the Bible, and Psalm 149 is just one example of it. It’s not what we like to hear about God, wreaking vengeance. But God didn’t carry out His judgment alone. It is the people that have to “inflict on them the judgment decreed.” And even the worship and adoration in the first part of the psalm are about active participation. The timbrel and the harp don’t play themselves. Just ask the members of our music program!



And if we want to have a place to worship, that takes work, too. When we invited Betania to join us here in our building, they did not want to displace the Haitians, as had been done to them more than once. Instead, they refurbished the space in the Undercroft that had been our Children’s Chapel at one time. In fact, they cleaned and refurbished the whole Undercroft for the whole BetaniaGrace community.



Church is not a spectator sport.



In Paul’s day Christians expected Jesus to return at any moment. But did that mean sitting around and doing nothing? No. In today’s reading from Romans Paul tells them to put on the armor of light and live honorably. Yes, we are already forgiven and blessed by God’s grace, but that doesn’t mean sitting on our duffs and doing nothing. It means our lives should be changed in some meaningful way. And we should be DOING something.



And in Matthew’s Gospel today Jesus’ tells us that being the church in the world is not passive. Even to effect reconciliation among its own members requires doing something. Getting up and reaching out to the other person.



Christianity is not a spectator sport.



We keep wondering why people are not walking through the doors of our church, but when we walk out those doors, most of us simply go home. Times have changed. We no longer live in a society that expects church membership as a given and just being here on the corner of Mott and Union Park isn’t going to bring people through those doors.



Things aren’t going to change by us sitting on our duffs. God has given us leadership with vision. God has given us some instructions, although each of us may have different parts of them, and they certainly aren’t as clear and concise as those the Hebrews received for the Passover. One thing I do know, nothing will happen if we do not actively participate in the work of being a church. Of being Grace Episcopal Church and Iglesia Betania.



Doing something will mean not only doing those things we know how to do, it means learning how to do new things too. It’s what we do in the Shawl Ministry. Some of us have learned to knit. Some of us have learned to crochet. We’ve learned new skills in order to participate in this ministry. A ministry that reaches beyond the walls of this building.



Ministry is not a spectator sport.



My friends, our future is uncertain, as uncertain as the future the Hebrews faced when God called them out of Egypt. While we know the end of their story, they did not. They could only act on their faith. We don’t know the end of our story, but we can do no less. Act on our faith. Act.



It’s not a spectator sport.

Jacob the Sneak

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Revised Common Lectionary Year A, Proper 10

Genesis 25:19-34

Grace Episcopal Church, Norwalk, CT

Loving God, you call us to be your stories in the world. We come before you seeking to be touched by your story. Open our lips to share our stories with one another and open our hearts to bring comfort, inspiration, joy and laughter to each other. Amen.

“Isaac loved Esau, because he was fond of game; but Rebekah loved Jacob.” Does this sound familiar? It does to me. When we were growing up Scott and I each claimed, only half jokingly, that our parents loved the other brother best. Then came the year when Scott brought Maureen up from college to meet the family, and I arrived with Brian in tow for the same reason. For many years after that the family joke was that our parents loved Maureen and Brian best.

Sibling rivalry is nothing new, and anyone with even a passing knowledge of the Bible is familiar with its stories of siblings living in the various parts of what one friend of mine calls Jesus’ big, fat, dysfunctional family tree. But how many families do you know that hang their dirty laundry out for the world to see? And yet, that is exactly what the writers and editors of the Hebrew Scriptures have done. Not in terms of Jesus, although we Christians have done enough of that in our own Scriptures and traditions, but definitely in terms of their own history. Who celebrates ancestors who are not, shall we say, the most upstanding examples of human beings, especially when measured against their own laws and traditions?

Yet those are the very stories that have been passed down and repeated through the generations. Cain the murderer; Joseph the spoiled brat; Rahab the prostitute; Sampson the lustful; David the Adulterer; Ruth the foreigner; and in today’s reading, Jacob the sneak.

A sneak? The great patriarch of Israel? The man God names Israel, the father of a nation? Well let’s look at the story.

During her particularly difficult pregnancy Rebekah goes to God to ask why. It is God, after all, who, in response to Isaac’s prayers for his barren wife, “granted his prayer, and his wife Rebekah conceived.” She asks him directly, "If it is to be this way, why do I live?" God responds by telling her that "Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples born of you shall be divided; the one shall be stronger than the other, the elder shall serve the younger."

Yet Jacob feels the need to maneuver Esau into selling the birthright due to the oldest son by tradition, even though God has already promised that Jacob is the favored child. Once again we have a younger son favored by God. What is it with the writers of Scripture and younger sons? Let me tell you, as an older son, this kind of stuff makes me nuts. On the other hand, the word games used in this story mean that it is as much about tribal rivalry as sibling rivalry. The Hebrew that describes Esau as red and hairy plays on the location and name of a neighboring tribe, the Edomites.

Ralph Milton writes:

In many tribal cultures a sense of what is right and wrong depends on who is doing what to whom. If you can [needle] someone from another tribe, that’s just fine. In fact, it’s your responsibility to do that if you can. The Israelites told with relish, how their Jacob [hoodwinked] those slow, stupid Edomites. We think it reprehensible of Jacob to cheat Esau, but the Israelites would have considered it downright traitorous not to rip off another tribe, provided you could get away with it. (http://ralphmiltonsrumors.blogspot.com/2008/07/preaching-materials-for-july-13-2008.html, as of July 8, 2011)

So here we are back to Jacob the sneak.

Why do I call him a sneak? Because, in spite of the fact that this story is probably as much about two tribes as two brothers, it’s the story of the brothers that has come down to us as Christians, not the tribal story. And there are a few pieces of the story that we aren’t even going to hear because of the way our lectionary is laid out. The part of Genesis we’ll hear next week is the story most of us know as Jacob’s Ladder. There are three, count them, three whole chapters between today’s reading and next week’s. We won’t read about famine causing Isaac to move his family a number of times and repeat many of the things that his father did. Nor will we read a few short lines about Esau’s wives. Nor the story of Esau and Jacob that we’re probably most familiar with.

And that’s where we learn just how much of a sneak Jacob can be.

Isaac, now going blind, calls Esau, his favorite son, and says, “See, I am old; I do not know the day of my death. Now then, take your weapons, your quivers and your bow, and go out to the field, and hunt game for me. Then prepare for me savory food, such as I like, and bring it to me to eat, so that I may bless you before I die.” Rebekah happens to overhear them, and she quickly goes to find Jacob, her favorite son. She tells him, “Go to the flock, and get me two choice kids, so that I may prepare from them savory food for your father, such as he likes; and you shall take it to your father to eat, so that he may bless you before he dies.” Jacob points out that he isn’t hairy like Esau, and his father, though blind, will be able to feel the difference and curse him instead. As we might say today, Rebekah has an App for that. While the dish is cooking, she dresses Jacob in some of Esau’s clothes and puts the skins of the slaughtered kids on his hands and the back of his neck.

But doesn’t that make Rebekah the sneaky one? Okay, I’ll give you that one, but Jacob goes along without protest. Not to mention he’s already manipulated Esau into selling his birthright for a meal of bread and stew. Not a particularly fair deal, if you ask me. So he comes by it naturally. He takes after his mother.

With the preparations complete, smelling and feeling like his brother, Jacob goes to his father and fools Isaac into believing that he is Esau. And so Isaac eats and then gives his younger son the blessing that should have been the older son’s. Now Jacob has not only his brother’s inheritance, but his patriarchal blessing as well. What was it we heard God say before these men were born? “The elder shall serve the younger." So why did Jacob find it necessary to use deceit to obtain what he has already been promised?

Jacob the sneak, indeed.

No sooner does Jacob depart from his father’s tent then Esau returns from his hunting, prepares a savory dish, and takes it to Isaac, who realizes the trick. Can we blame Esau for saying to himself, “The days of mourning for my father are approaching; then I will kill my brother Jacob.” Unfortunately, he says that out loud, and again Rebekah overhears something not meant for her ears. And again she runs to her younger son, warns him of his brother’s intention, and sends him off to her brother in the land of her birth. (Genesis 27)

And so Jacob the sneak runs off in the night.

But before we get to the story of the ladder, there’s a slightly different version of the blessing story, which many scholars believe comes from a different source. Here Isaac calls Jacob to him and blesses him and then sends him to his mother’s family to find a wife there rather than marry one of the Canaanite women from the land where they are currently living. (Genesis 28:1-5)

So we have Jacob the sneak, and Jacob the dutiful son. Two traditions placed in tension for our reading, reflection, and interpretation.

This week I find myself in a place where I strongly identify with Esau. Some of it has to do with being an older son, but mostly I’ve been put in the role of the metaphorical big brother over and over. I’ve watched those younger brothers and sisters receive blessings and inheritances I will not. I have seen them go places I cannot. Next year, next month, next week, or even tomorrow, I might find myself interpreting the story of Esau and Jacob differently. Neither interpretation is wrong. They are reflections of where I am in my life and how that affects the way in which I tell my story of being part of God’s creation.

You will have your own reflections and interpretations. How do they affect the way you tell your story of being part of God’s creation? Can we share those stories with each other? I invite you to do so, ending as I began:

Loving God, you call us to be your stories in the world. We come before you seeking to be touched by your story. Open our lips to share our stories with one another and open our hearts to bring comfort, inspiration, joy and laughter to each other. Amen.

Advent 3: Our Lady of Guadalupe

Third Sunday of Advent, December 12, 2010
Year A: Canticle 15
Grace Episcopal Church, Norwalk, CT

Loving God, you call us to be your stories in the world. We come before you seeking to be touched by your story. Open our lips to share our stories with one another and to bring comfort, inspiration, joy and laughter to each other. Amen.

The first time I went to Ireland I had to take the bus from Shannon in the center of Western Ireland to Sligo, which is in the Northwest part of the country, to meet my tour group. The trip included a bus change in Galway. As we boarded the bus, a group of nuns got on and sat in front. I didn’t think anything of it until we pulled out of one of the small towns on the route, and the driver announced that our next stop was Knock. I almost fell out of my seat laughing.

Knock is the site of a shrine to Mary, the mother of Jesus, and you’re probably wondering why I found the Shrine of Our Lady of Knock funny. Some years ago the local parish priest managed to push through the approvals and raise the money to build an airport just outside of this small Irish village. Build it in time for a Papal visit. The priest became the laughingstock. Why did this tiny town, shrine or no shrine, need an airport? And Irish folk singer Christie Moore wrote a song about the building of the airport. A bitingly satiric and funny song. I don’t know if the priest lived long enough to see it, but he had the last laugh. The airport at Knock is one of the busiest regional airports in Ireland even without the pilgrims coming to visit the shrine.

The shrine in Knock is a walled complex. As we pulled into town, the bus was just high enough for me to look over the wall and see the church built where several people saw a vision of St. Mary, St. Joseph, St. John the Evangelist, and Christ as the Eucharistic Lamb. The street that runs along the wall, the village’s main street, is lined with souvenir shops. You wouldn’t believe the number of plastic holy water bottles, plastic statues of Mary, plastic rosaries—or maybe you would. Between the tchotchkes and the song, how seriously can you take this kind of thing?

Before my visit to Ireland, the only direct experience I’d had with people who visited a Marian shrine and made devotions to Mary were members of, well, a cult, for lack of a better term. This cult is centered on the so-called Our Lady of the Roses, Mary help of Mothers in Bayside, Queens. These women—and they are mostly women— in their blue berets would show up in Hartford and other places across Connecticut for any legislative hearing or vote and any activity surrounding civil rights legislation for lesbians, gays, and bisexuals. This group was virulently homophobic and cited messages from their Mary to justify it. On the other hand, even the local Archdiocese has found the supposed visions to completely lack authenticity and condemned the group for proclaiming things contrary to Roman Catholic teaching. For the better part of a decade, if I was attending or participating in something to do with the fight for the protection of my civil rights, they were there, too.

Not very positive or favorable experiences when it comes to Mary’s presence in the world.

Of course, most of us of European descent have heard of the more famous shrines of Mary: Lourdes, Fatima, and Medjugorje, to name a few. There’s even one held dear by Anglicans—Our Lady of Walsingham, with a secondary shrine in Ohio, of all places. But I would hazard a guess that most of you hadn’t heard of Our Lady of Guadalupe until Lois arrived here at Grace, and we began our conversations with Iglesia Betania. I hadn’t either, until several years ago when I took a job at the Episcopal Church Center where I worked regularly with individuals, congregations, and dioceses in Province IX, which includes parts of Central and South America and the Caribbean. Why not until then? Because, quite frankly, my involvement with Latin American, specifically Mexican, communities had been fairly limited until then. My first serious boyfriend may have been Mexican and Apache, but given that period in time and his community’s culture, we didn’t have much to do with his family. So we never went to any family celebrations.

So let me tell you another story; this time not one of mine. This is Juan Diego’s story.

Almost 500 years ago, in the Mexican portion of the Spanish empire lived a mestizo, a young man of mixed native and Spanish blood, named Juan Diego. On the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, December 9th, he was on his way to mass in Mexico City and passed Tepeyac Hill—and I’m going to mispronounce the name of the hill throughout because it predates the coming of Spanish to Mexico—he passed the hill where he heard music that sounded a bit like birds singing. He stopped to see where the music was coming from and heard a young woman’s voice calling his name. He climbed the hill and saw at the top a young mestizo woman surrounded by radiant light, the Virgin Mary. She called Juan mi hijo, my son, and told him that she wanted him to be her messenger to the bishop of Mexico City. Her message was that she wanted a church built for her children.

It’s important for you to know a couple of things at this point in the story. Remember, the Spaniards had conquered Mexico not too long before. Unlike the English up here, they were more interested in accumulating wealth. They moved in just enough colonists to govern the area while forcing the native population into a state of near, if not actual, slavery. As with any kind of clash of cultures, children are born of mixed parentage. So it was in Mexico. And those children, the mestizos, were looked down upon and excluded not only by the Spanish but by the Mexicans as well.

So when Juan arrived at the bishop’s residence, before he could even tell his unbelievable story, he had to deal with the fact that he was coming to see a Spanish bishop served by both Spaniards and Mexicans who wanted nothing to do with the likes of Juan Diego. The servants tried to turn him away, but he was persistent and was finally granted an audience with the bishop. At first, the bishop didn’t believe Juan and asked him to come back another day. A discouraged Juan retuned to Tepeyac and asked the Virgin to use someone else more worthy than himself. Sound like anyone else we know? Moses, perhaps? Mary assured him that she had chosen him personally as her ambassador. The next day he returned to the bishop to try again. Still disbelieving, the bishop sent Juan to tell the lady he needed a sign in order to know if she truly was the Virgin Mary. Doubting Thomas, anyone?

When Juan relayed the bishop’s message, Mary told him to return the next day, and she would give him the sign he needed. But when Juan got home, he found his uncle very ill. So instead of returning to see the Virgin, Juan stayed home to care for his uncle. On the morning of December 12th Juan rushed to Mexico City to find a priest to administer the last rites to his uncle. He went around the back of Tepeyac hill in order to avoid Mary, though he thought she would understand. But she met him on the path took and told him that his uncle had already been healed. Later Juan would find out that at that same moment the Virgin had appeared to his uncle, who was immediately restored to health. Mary urged Juan to go to the top of the hill where he would find flowers growing. He did as she asked and was astonished to find so many flowers where there should have been frost. He cut and gathered them in his cloak. Mary arranged them, rolled up his cloak, and told him not to unroll it until he saw the bishop.

Once again, the bishop’s servants gave Juan Diego a hard time, but again, he persisted. When he finally reached the bishop, he told him about his conversation with the Virgin. Then he unrolled his cloak, and the flowers tumbled to the ground. The bishop, Juan, and everyone else in the room were startled by what else was there. On Juan’s cloak appeared an image of Mary as Juan had seen her. The bishop then believed and promised to build the shrine requested by the Virgin.

Juan Diego’s story does not end there. In 2002 Pope John Paul II canonized Juan Diego, making him the first Mexican saint. And his cloak is preserved to this day in la Basílica de Santa Maria de Guadalupe in Mexico City. If you get a chance, you can see a copy of this image in the chapel, where the young people of Betania have decorated the altar for the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe. And when you look, I want you to notice something different about the image of the Virgin. Unlike every other apparition of Mary, even throughout Latin America, she isn’t a young white woman. Mary appeared to Juan Diego as a young mestizo woman. She looked like him. And by calling Juan “mi hijo”—my son—she was telling not only Juan, but the whole world, that he and all those like him, the despised mestizos, were her children and children of God. She arrived with a changed appearance to bring a message to a changing world.

So why have I told you these stories, mine and Juan Diego’s? Why are they important to a small Episcopal congregation in Norwalk, Connecticut? For one thing, without stories, there would be no church. Without the stories of the first disciples and first Christians, we would have no sacred story and no Christian community. It was through the retelling of stories that the Gospel spread. And not just stories about Jesus, but also the very personal stories of those early Christians and Christians across the centuries. It is those personal stories that forge community because they help us to get to know each other and understand each others’ faith journeys. They are what help us to forge a community. Here at Grace we are in the midst of forming a new community with the members of Iglesia Betania.

Even with each other we need to keep telling these stories because not everyone has heard them. For instance, we of Grace and many of Betania have not heard Juan Diego’s story because it comes primarily from the Mexican communities. Although that’s changing both here and across Latin America

Now, more than ever, we need to share our stories. We need to learn from each other that we are individuals, not those Anglos, those Islanders, or those Latin Americans. Each of us has something important to bring to this new community. And without telling our stories to each other and then not only telling them to the larger community around us, but then engaging that greater community in shared ministry, without sharing ourselves, how do we bring the face of Jesus, the face of God, to others?

Almighty God, of your saving grace you called Mary of Nazareth to be the mother of your only begotten Son: Inspire us by the same grace to follow her example of bearing God to the world. We pray through Jesus Christ her son our Savior. Amen.

The Infamous Advent Calendar Sermon

Advent 3 - December 13, 2009
Year C Revised Common Lectionary
Zephaniah 3:14-20, Canticle 9, Philippians 4:4-7, Luke 3:7-18
Mid-December Check-In

Loving God, you call us to be your stories in the world. We come before you seeking to be touched by your story. Open our lips to share our stories with one another and to bring comfort, inspiration, joy and laughter to each other. Amen

Good Morning! Good Morning! It’s time for our mid-December check-in. Did you all bring personal organizers? Your Blackberries? Your iPhones? It never ceases to amaze me how quickly we can fill these things up. Here, let’s start with mine. I actually prefer to use a paper pocket calendar and some index cards—more flexible. All right, it’s a little small for you to see, so I’ve enlarged a portion of it so you can see it better.

Okay, we might as well start with today. I have two entries for today, the first is “Preach at Grace,” [Put up the Post-It that says “Preach at Grace.”] and the second is Bishop Smith at Grace. [Put up the Post-It that says “Bp. Smith at Grace.”] Somewhere between those two I’ like to get in 30 minutes to an hour of practice. Actually, I try to get that much flute practice in every day [Put up “Practice” Post-Its.] except Tuesdays. On Tuesday’s I mentor an Education for Ministry Seminar. [Two “EfM” Post-Its.] Then on the 23rd I travel to Pennsylvania to spend Christmas with my brother and his family [“Train to PA”], which means I have to pack [“Pack”]

You may note that some of these entries are marked with “VC.” Those are the days I’m on Vacation. But before I can do that, there are a few things to take care of at work. On Tuesdays we have a Formation Group check-in [“Formation Group Check-In”]. Then every other Tuesday afternoon, we have an Evangelism & Congregational Life staff meeting. [“ECL Staff Meeting”] This coming week our team leader will be in New York City, so we’ll be having a Budget meeting on Wednesday. [“Formation Budget Meeting”] And on Thursday we’ll be having lunch with the Province IX Provincial Youth Ministry Coordinator. [“Lunch w/ Prov. IX Rep] In terms of my own work, I need to finish the outline draft of a workshop a colleague and I are presenting in January [“Draft Workshop Outline”] and finish preparing the handouts for the Spiritual Autobiography workshop I’m presenting at the same conference. [“Handouts for Spiritual Autobiography”] And, of course, I have to make some changes to my office web pages. [“Update Web Pages”]

Which reminds me, I also have to update the parish web site. [Two “Update Parish Web Site” Post-Its]

One of the benefits of working for the Church Center is opportunities for daily prayer, both in the morning and at noontime. I generally try to take advantage of Morning Prayer, and next week I will also be officiating two days. [Four “Morning Prayer”] Are we done yet? Nope.

December 20th will be a busy day. In the morning we will gather in the gifts we purchased for the tags on the tree in the Narthex [“Gathering of Gifts”], and that afternoon I will be at a Holiday party with some friends from various faith traditions. [Celebration with Friends]. Somewhere in the middle of all of this I have to shop for the gift tag [“Shop for Gift Tag] and finish the rest of my Christmas shopping [“Finish Shopping”] And down in Pennsylvania, we’ll probably spend Christmas Eve morning running last minute errands. [“Errands”] Of course, once all the shopping is done, everything has to be wrapped! [“Wrap Presents”]

Finally, there will be Christmas Eve services with family [“Christmas Eve Service with Family”] and our traditional Christmas Eve activities, including watching A Muppet Christmas Carol.

I don’t know about you, but I’m tired just looking at this. And I’m sure I’m still missing something. One of the things I often do with children at this time of year is to make Advent Calendars. Every day of Advent, you open a little door and there’s a message, a saying, or a small gift, depending on your calendar. Since this shows the last half of Advent from my calendar, let’s see what happens when we open this door. [Turn the page to reveal a new page with “Jesus is Coming!” written on it.]

Oh my stars! as one of my grandmother’s friends would say. Oh my stars, Jesus is coming and I haven’t cleaned the bathroom!

As if preparing for Jesus is some sort of one time task or event. As if Jesus really cares whether or not the bathroom is clean.

The Church has long called for Advent to be a time of preparation, a time to prepare for the coming of Jesus. It treats Advent as if it were a mini-Lent, a time of penitence and rededication to living a Christian life. A friend of mine calls this the invitation to “Don’t just do something, stand there!” But even the Church in its infinite wisdom—as if the Church has all the answers, but that’s a discussion for another time—even the Church gives us mixed messages about this season. All you have to do is look at today’s readings from the lectionary.

Sing aloud, O daughter Zion, shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter of Jerusalem. (Zephaniah)

And on that day you shall draw water with rejoicing from the springs of salvation. And on that day you shall say, Give thanks to the Lord and call upon his name; (Canticle 9)

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. (Philippians)

And then there’s John: “You brood of vipers!”

“What then should we do?” the people ask John the Baptist. Share what you have, don’t take more than is your due, don’t extort things from others… Of course, what John describes is not as extreme as what Jesus tells the rich young man, “sell everything you own, give the proceeds to the poor, and then come and follow me.”

But even following John’s guidance only seems to add to the frantic-ness of this time of year. Shopping for the gift tags. Taking the time to bring a little extra for the food pantry for holiday meals. Some of these things many of us do year-round, but now they become one more thing on the already full calendar.

So where in the midst of all of this do we find the time respond to that invitation? How do we “stand there” at a time of year when even finding the time to go to church can be difficult?

And once we’ve done all those things? Where’s Jesus?

Paul writes to the Philippians, “The Lord Is near.” And how do we find him? When even the Church has a myriad of things for us to do. Clean the dishes. Prepare the music. Green the church. Write the sermons. How do we find Jesus?

Don’t just do something, stand there!

Everyone has a different way of taking time out and relaxing. Finding Jesus involves doing just that. For some it may mean sitting quietly with a candle. For some reading the Bible or prayers written for the season. And quite frankly, even though the “liturgically correct” will have a hissy fit when I say this, you can even put on a CD of Christmas Carols and just sit and listen to them.

Don’t just do something, stand there!

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Amen.

The Infamous Advent Calendar Sermon

Third Sunday of Advent, December 13, 2009
Year C: Zephaniah 3:14-20, Canticle 9, Philippians 4:4-7, Luke 3:7-18
Grace Episcopal Church, Norwalk, CT

Mid-December Check-In

Loving God, you call us to be your stories in the world. We come before you seeking to be touched by your story. Open our lips to share our stories with one another and to bring comfort, inspiration, joy and laughter to each other. Amen

Good Morning! Good Morning! It’s time for our mid-December check-in. Did you all bring personal organizers? Your Blackberries? Your iPhones? It never ceases to amaze me how quickly we can fill these things up. Here, let’s start with mine. I actually prefer to use a paper pocket calendar and some index cards—more flexible. All right, it’s a little small for you to see, so I’ve enlarged a portion of it so you can see it better.

Okay, we might as well start with today. I have two entries for today, the first is “Preach at Grace,” [Put up the Post-It that says “Preach at Grace.”] and the second is Bishop Smith at Grace. [Put up the Post-It that says “Bp. Smith at Grace.”] Somewhere between those two I’ like to get in 30 minutes to an hour of practice. Actually, I try to get that much flute practice in every day [Put up “Practice” Post-Its.] except Tuesdays. On Tuesday’s I mentor an Education for Ministry Seminar. [Two “EfM” Post-Its.] Then on the 23rd I travel to Pennsylvania to spend Christmas with my brother and his family [“Train to PA”], which means I have to pack [“Pack”]

You may note that some of these entries are marked with “VC.” Those are the days I’m on Vacation. But before I can do that, there are a few things to take care of at work. On Tuesdays we have a Formation Group check-in [“Formation Group Check-In”]. Then every other Tuesday afternoon, we have an Evangelism & Congregational Life staff meeting. [“ECL Staff Meeting”] This coming week our team leader will be in New York City, so we’ll be having a Budget meeting on Wednesday. [“Formation Budget Meeting”] And on Thursday we’ll be having lunch with the Province IX Provincial Youth Ministry Coordinator. [“Lunch w/ Prov. IX Rep] In terms of my own work, I need to finish the outline draft of a workshop a colleague and I are presenting in January [“Draft Workshop Outline”] and finish preparing the handouts for the Spiritual Autobiography workshop I’m presenting at the same conference. [“Handouts for Spiritual Autobiography”] And, of course, I have to make some changes to my office web pages. [“Update Web Pages”]

Which reminds me, I also have to update the parish web site. [Two “Update Parish Web Site” Post-Its]

One of the benefits of working for the Church Center is opportunities for daily prayer, both in the morning and at noontime. I generally try to take advantage of Morning Prayer, and next week I will also be officiating two days. [Four “Morning Prayer”] Are we done yet? Nope.

December 20th will be a busy day. In the morning we will gather in the gifts we purchased for the tags on the tree in the Narthex [“Gathering of Gifts”], and that afternoon I will be at a Holiday party with some friends from various faith traditions. [Celebration with Friends]. Somewhere in the middle of all of this I have to shop for the gift tag [“Shop for Gift Tag] and finish the rest of my Christmas shopping [“Finish Shopping”] And down in Pennsylvania, we’ll probably spend Christmas Eve morning running last minute errands. [“Errands”] Of course, once all the shopping is done, everything has to be wrapped! [“Wrap Presents”]

Finally, there will be Christmas Eve services with family [“Christmas Eve Service with Family”] and our traditional Christmas Eve activities, including watching A Muppet Christmas Carol.

I don’t know about you, but I’m tired just looking at this. And I’m sure I’m still missing something. One of the things I often do with children at this time of year is to make Advent Calendars. Every day of Advent, you open a little door and there’s a message, a saying, or a small gift, depending on your calendar. Since this shows the last half of Advent from my calendar, let’s see what happens when we open this door. [Turn the page to reveal a new page with “Jesus is Coming!” written on it.]

Oh my stars! as one of my grandmother’s friends would say. Oh my stars, Jesus is coming and I haven’t cleaned the bathroom!

As if preparing for Jesus is some sort of one time task or event. As if Jesus really cares whether or not the bathroom is clean.

The Church has long called for Advent to be a time of preparation, a time to prepare for the coming of Jesus. It treats Advent as if it were a mini-Lent, a time of penitence and rededication to living a Christian life. A friend of mine calls this the invitation to “Don’t just do something, stand there!” But even the Church in its infinite wisdom—as if the Church has all the answers, but that’s a discussion for another time—even the Church gives us mixed messages about this season. All you have to do is look at today’s readings from the lectionary.

Sing aloud, O daughter Zion, shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter of Jerusalem. (Zephaniah)

And on that day you shall draw water with rejoicing from the springs of salvation. And on that day you shall say, Give thanks to the Lord and call upon his name; (Canticle 9)

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. (Philippians)

And then there’s John: “You brood of vipers!”

“What then should we do?” the people ask John the Baptist. Share what you have, don’t take more than is your due, don’t extort things from others… Of course, what John describes is not as extreme as what Jesus tells the rich young man, “sell everything you own, give the proceeds to the poor, and then come and follow me.”

But even following John’s guidance only seems to add to the frantic-ness of this time of year. Shopping for the gift tags. Taking the time to bring a little extra for the food pantry for holiday meals. Some of these things many of us do year-round, but now they become one more thing on the already full calendar.

So where in the midst of all of this do we find the time respond to that invitation? How do we “stand there” at a time of year when even finding the time to go to church can be difficult?

And once we’ve done all those things? Where’s Jesus?

Paul writes to the Philippians, “The Lord Is near.” And how do we find him? When even the Church has a myriad of things for us to do. Clean the dishes. Prepare the music. Green the church. Write the sermons. How do we find Jesus?

Don’t just do something, stand there!

Everyone has a different way of taking time out and relaxing. Finding Jesus involves doing just that. For some it may mean sitting quietly with a candle. For some reading the Bible or prayers written for the season. And quite frankly, even though the “liturgically correct” will have a hissy fit when I say this, you can even put on a CD of Christmas Carols and just sit and listen to them.

Don’t just do something, stand there!

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Amen.

Advent I - Perparation

This morning Iglesia Betania and Grace Episcopal Church held our second (or was it our third? I've been traveling too much) joint bilingual service. Padre Jose Diaz preached, moving effortlessly back and forth between English and Spanish. It was about preparation, which, after all, is what Advent is all about. One of the things he noted is that once we are born, we are preparing to die.

Preparing to die, however, is not something we do well in this society. Diana Butler Bass writes in A People's History of Christianity:

[The Rev. Will Willimon, dean of Duke Chapel when she was a graduate student] addressed our fear of death--how we relegate the sick and dying to institutions where we cannot see them. "We beg God for a quick death," he said. "At night. In bed. Unexpected." He drew a contrast. "Not at all like our medieval forebears," he stated. "they prayed for long deaths, to die from cancer or other lengthy diseases. They wanted a protracted death so they might prepare for the end." (p. 117)

It is true that we as a society do not handle death and dying very well. But if, as Padre Juan says, we are preparing to die from the time we are born, what does that mean for us in how we live our lives?

At this afternoon's Open Air Worship, Lois led a discussion on the same readings. We talked about Jesus coming again and how some people believe he is always coming again, that he is in everyone we meet. That would also mean that he is in each of us. If Jesus is in me, what does mean for how I live my life?

Peace,
Jeff

Midrash

This is the first time I've had to preach two Sundays in a row. Last week I adapted "Reflection Beginning with A Text" from Education for Ministry as a basis for an interactive sermon. I wanted to do something different this week, but still keep with our theme of learning how to engage Scripture. It was not until Friday morning that inspiration--or the Spirit--hit. I still hadn't finished writing when I left to spend the late afternoon and evening with friends. Truth be told, I had almost nothing on paper by the time I left.

I spent most of the night writing. Lots of uninspired words. Finally, I put down the stories and quotes I knew were going to be part of the sermon and went to bed at about 4 a.m. I got up briefly at some point to jot a note down on a piece of paper by my bed that I typed into the appropriate place before printing out the text and heading out the door. I truly left it up to the Spirit this morning.

After the service, a couple of the parishioners told me how much they appreciated the sermon. One said that it spoke directly to her, that she needed to hear about Sarah. I thanked her and let her know that it truly had come from God this morning. "Then it came through for me!" she responded. I'm glad I was there to bring the message.

Here is the sermon reconstructed as best as I can recall from what I said this morning. It is almost twice as long as the printed text I took with me to church.

Peace,
Jeff

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Revised Common Lectionary Year B: Genesis 1-7, 15-16

Loving God, you call us to be your stories in the world. We come before you seeking to be touched by your story. Open our lips to share our stories with one another and to bring comfort, inspiration, joy and laughter to each other. Amen.

A student asked, “why did God choose Abraham?”

Rabbi Hiyya replied, “Abraham’s father was an idol-maker. He would make stone images and sell them in a shop in the market. One day, Abraham’s father asked him to watch over the idols in his shop while he was away. While he was gone, Abraham seized a stick, smashed all the statues, and placed the stick in the hand of the biggest of them. When his father came back, he asked, ‘Who did this to the gods?’ Abraham answered, ‘The biggest of them rose up and smashed all the others.’ His father replied, ‘Are you making fun of me? They cannot do anything! They are merely pieces of stone!’ Abraham answered, ‘Let your ears hear what your mouth is saying!’”

A student asked, “Genesis 12 tells us that Abram and Sarai took all the people they acquired, or some translations read ‘made,’ in Haran. Why is it said 'that they made'?”

Rabbi Huna said, “Abraham would convert the men, and Sarah would convert the women.”

And what about Sarah? Today’s reading from Genesis says only

As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her. I will bless her, and she shall give rise to nations; kings of peoples shall come from her. [Genesis 17:15-16]

There are very few stories about Sarah. One tells of another time God came to Sarah and Abraham yet again to tell them that they would have a child in their old age, and Sarah laughed. During an earlier visit Abraham laughed, but when Sarah laughed, the angel asked her why she laughed. They did not rebuke Abraham for his laughter.

I’m going to ask you some questions, but this week I won’t ask you to answer them now. Take them home with you and ponder them over the coming week.

Why doesn’t Scripture tell us more about Sarah?

If Sarah is the mother of nations, what does that tell us about us as a people spiritually? Genetically?

What is your story about Sarah?

A student asked, “And what about Sarah?”

The rabbi replied, “As long as Sarah was alive, a cloud was fixed at the entrance to her tent. When she died, that cloud ceased. But when Rebekah arrived, the cloud returned. As long as Sarah was alive, the doors were wide open. When she died, that generosity ceased. But when Rebekah arrived, that generosity returned. As long as Sarah was alive, a blessing was associated with the dough. When she died, that blessing ceased. But when Rebekah arrived, that blessing returned. As long as Sarah was alive, a lamp burned from one Sabbath night until the next. When she died, that lamp ceased. But when Rebekah arrived, that fire returned.

And where do these stories from the rabbis come from? Midrash, a body of Jewish literature that looks at Scripture in a particular way. In fact, there are volumes and volumes of it. In her book God’s Echo, Rabbi Sandy Sasso says

Midrash is both a product—a body of literature written over a period of time, and a process—a way of interpreting sacred text that continues to the present day. In addressing questions about how to apply the Bible to new historical and social situations and how to find contemporary communal and personal meaning and significance in the Torah’s ancestral legacy, the rabbis produced numerous collections of midrash. [p. 23]

Midrash is a conversation. One Jewish text says

Moses received the Torah from God at Sinai. He transmitted it to Joshua, Joshua to the Elders, the Elders to the Prophets, and the Prophets to the members of the Great Assembly. [Avot 1:1]

I don’t see anything here about priests or professors! It is a conversation between all of us, and each of us, and Bible, that continues to this day. Dr. Burton Visotzky, who I’ve quoted before when speaking with you, says

It is only in the reading and the rereading which each community does together that the Bible becomes a timeless text, the Word of God… The give and take of interpretation creates an extra voice in the room, the sound of Reading the Book. When that happens, the Bible speaks not only to each community of readers…but to all humanity. [Quoted in God’s Echo, p. 15]

And so I leave you today with one more question to consider: What’s more important, the questions or the answers?

Today's "Sermon"

Beginning with the past two Sundays, and continuing through Lent, Lois is using the sermon time to teach the congregation different ways in which we can engage Scripture. On the Sixth Sunday after Epiphany she gave us a lesson on one way to read the Bible. Last Sunday she led us through a guided meditation on the Transfiguration. When Lois asked me to preach for the two Sundays she is in Sierra Leone, she told me that I didn't have to follow what she was doing. She did not tell me what that was, and I experienced it with the congregation.

Having participated in and observed what Lois did, I decided that I would do theological reflection with the congregation, at least for the first Sunday. Those of you familiar with Education for Ministry (EfM) will recognize a modified TR Beginning with A Text and ending with the writing of a collect. As an EfM Mentor, I lead Theological Reflection a couple of times a month, so I really did not have that much preparation to do. It felt very strange not writing a sermon during the week and not having a last minute visit from the Holy Spirit late Saturday night or in the wee hours of Sunday morning. Yesterday I worked hard to ease my anxiety of not having a prepared text for today. I walked into church this morning figuring it would be either an unmitigated disaster or a quiet success. Finally, I just had to let it go and have faith that the Spirit would do her thing when the time came.

With Lois away, having lay-led (by me) Morning Prayer, and the on-again-off-again predictions of snow, I wondered how many folks would actually show up for the service. While attendance was low (35), it wasn't the lowest we've experienced in the two years since I returned to the parish. As I began the reflection with the congregation, only a couple of people responded to the questions. However, as it went on, more people participated, including some who don't usually speak up during interactive sermons, and one of our youth. The youth who did respond to a couple of the questions also served on my Discernment Committee, and his speaking out models for the congregation that everyone can participate AND that our youth have a voice in our church that is heard and acknowledged. I was very proud of him.

Here is how I led the reflection on Mark 1:9-15:

This morning, in keeping with our theme of engaging the Gospel ourselves, we're going to do some Theological Reflection using the Gospel reading.

What is the world like in this reading?

What causes pain in the world of this reading?

What surprises you in the world of this reading?

What is there to celebrate in this reading?

After having spent some time talking about the reading, what might our newspaper say if it happened today?

What are some of the things we might do in response to this reading and our discussion?

Now I'm going to ask you three more questions, and your responses will become the prayer at the end of the Prayers of the People.

Based on what we've talked about, what do we believe about God?

What do we pray for?

And what do we hope results from our prayers?

What we've done here is studied the Gospel together. The Gospel isn't some book up there that we only pull out and read on Sundays--although we are doing it on Sunday now. We don't need some theology professor to explain it to us. After all, the Scriptures are OUR story, and we can engage them every day.

And here's the prayer the congregation created:

O God, You will always provide, set an example for us, and give us hope. We pray for strength, persistence, healing for those that are sick, and for people who are really hurt by the bad things happening to them in the economy; in order that we have comfort, more people participate in the Good News, and we become more connected with You. Amen.

Now all I have to do is figure out what I'm going to follow that up with next Sunday!

Peace,
Jeff

And Finally, The Sermon

After I posted last night, I got involved in conversations with a couple of friends online. As a result, I didn't finish typing the sermon and making edits until about 1:00 a.m. Thankfully, there were no 3 a.m. messages from the Holy Spirit, so I got a good night's sleep. This morning I woke up just before the alarm clock went off at 8:00, so I had time to review the sermon one more time, eat some breakfast, get dressed, and arrive at church in time for the 9:00 presentation of the 2009 budget. I did make a few more minor edits. However, I had not planned for the snow. In fact, I didn't even know it was snowing until I opened the door to the back hallway to leave for church. Even after cleaning off the car and driving very slowly on slippery roads, I was not the last one to arrive for the budget meeting.

So here it is, this morning's sermon:

Second Sunday after Epiphany, Lectionary Year B: 1 Samuel 3:1-10(11-20); John 1:43-51

Loving God, you call us to be your stories in the world. We come before you seeking to be touched by your story. Open our lips to share our stories with one another and to bring comfort, inspiration, joy and laughter to each other. Amen.

The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread. 1 Samuel 3:1]

To hear many of our evangelical brothers and sisters tell it, the Lord speaks to them frequently, most often to chastise liberal Christians and an increasingly secular world. To most of the rest of us, however, it does seem as if God rarely speaks. Not too long ago the United Church of Christ, probably the most liberal of the mainstream Christian Denominations, released an advertising campaign which said “God is still speaking,”. Their purpose was to say that part of their response to God’s call as a denomination is to be welcoming absolutely everyone; that everyone has a place at the table.

Then the Lord called, “Samuel! Samuel!” and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me. [3:4-5]

In a world where we do not often hear God speaking, we do not always recognize God’s voice. And if we do, our reaction may not always be what one might expect. Some us laugh, as Sarah did when the Lord told her and Abraham that she would have a son in her old age. Some of us try to ignore what we hear as Jonah did when God called him to go to Nineveh.

The Lord called again, “Samuel!” Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again”. [3:6]

When a call comes, we are not the only ones who have difficulty hearing it for what it is. We live in a culture—and often a church—that caused one comedian to comment, “Why is it that when we talk to God we’re praying, but when God talks to us we’re schizophrenic?”

The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. [3:8]

There are the times when those around us understand that God is calling us before we do ourselves. In a way, that’s what happened to Nathanael in today’s reading from John. Philip extended an invitation to Nathanael, who goes to see Jesus in spite of his reservations. As a result, Nathanael becomes one of Jesus’ disciples.

Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’” [3:9]

If God is persistent, so is Samuel. He could have chalked the whole thing up to Eli’s old age, rolled over, and gone back to sleep. Once we do perceive that it is God calling us, we need to prepare to hear, not only from God, but from those around us in our faith communities as well. During Advent we prepare for the coming of Jesus, learning ways to open our lives for his message. During Epiphany many of our readings are about God’s call to different people, including Jesus.

Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said “Speak, for your servant is listening.” [3:10]

Opening himself to God, Samuel became a prophet. The Hebrew word used is nabi. Greek translators rendered it as prophetes, from which comes our word prophet. However, as W. F. Albright points out in From Stone Age to Christianity, the term is not restricted to our current understanding of the word prophet. “The origin of the word seems to have meant ‘one called to a task by god.’” Not just prophecy, but any task. “Samuel is called to be much more than prophet in the sense of oracle giver; he functions also as priest, and will become as well one part warrior, one part judge, and one part governor.”[1]

Then the Lord said to Samuel, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears tingle.” [3:11]

And God proceeded to do just that. God continues to do that through people recognized and unrecognized by us. One such person was the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr., commemorated by our nation this weekend and by the Episcopal Church on either January 15th, the anniversary of his birth, or April 4th, the anniversary of his death. Dr. King certainly stirred up our country and made a lot of ears tingle. Over the years he has been seen as an uppity black man, a trouble maker, a hero, and a prophet. He changed our nation and our world, and yet…

And yet…

Why is it that most congregations only drag out Lift Every Voice And Sing for Martin Luther King weekend and Black History Month?

Why is it that companies think one session of diversity training resolves all the issues in their workplace?

And how on earth can anyone believe that the election of an African-American man as President of the United States means that we as a nation have finally overcome racism?

When I asked a colleague at work these questions, she asked me, “How are you going to answer them?” My response was, and is, I can’t. I cannot answer them for you, for the Episcopal Church, for the United States, or for the world. I can, however, lift them before you both in response to God’s call and as a part of God’s call. My colleague also asked, not just of me, but of herself, What are the core values we can hold up for the coming days, weeks, and months? In our lives? And again, I cannot answer that question for anyone, but I can lift it before you both in response to God’s call and as a part of God’s call. Does that make me a prophet? Perhaps. While I do not perceive that as my call, there are those of my friends—and others—who tell me I am. It is a dangerous place to live, and like my friend who, when people around her tell her they perceive her call to be that of a prophet, puts her hands over her ears and says, “La, la, la, la, la, la, la,” I don’t want to go there. But I cannot let the questions go unasked.

Actually, there are times I also want to go “La, la, la, la, la, la, la” when I contemplate what I perceive to be my call to the ordained ministry. I don’t want to go there, but I cannot let the questions go unasked.

Are you hearing God speaking? Is there a call for you coming through? These probably aren’t questions to answer now. Neither are the ones I asked earlier. But they are questions we all need to consider, so if Advent is a time of preparation, and Epiphany is a time to hear stories about other peoples’ calls, then perhaps Lent may be a time to reflect on what we’ve been hearing. And Easter. And Pentecost. And next Advent. And, as I’ve said before, God is persistent.

You may, like me, feel that the call you’re experiencing is different from the call you’ve perceived. You may, like me, feel that your faith community is already answering its call in the world. For you, and for me, I have another question to raise up. Why do we think God only calls us once, or to only one task at a time? And if for you, as for me, the seed of a call germinates, seek out members of your faith community to form a discernment group. Remember that discernment is not just for those who perceive their call as one to ordained ministry. It is for anyone called to any task by God.

As Samuel grew up, the Lord was with him and let none of his words fall to the ground. And all Israel from Dan to Beer-sheba knew that Samuel was a trustworthy prophet of the Lord. [3:19-20]

God IS still speaking.

Let all God’s people say, “Amen!”

[1] Education for Ministry Year One: The Old Testament. de Bary, Edward Oscar, Ed. 3rd Edition. Sewanee, TN: The University of the South, 1999. p. 336.

Postscript:

If I'd had a laptop, an LCD projector, and a screen this morning--or stumbled across this earlier than last night (although my sermon was very different until last night)--I'd have played this after I finished speaking.



It's based on the UCC campaign I mentioned, but I can't find it on the UCC's God is still speaking, (yes, it ends with a comma) site.

Peace,
Jeff

Of Cafes and Sermon Writing

About 5:30 this evening I gave up trying to write my sermon here at home. Too many distractions with which to procrastinate. I changed clothes, packed up my Harper Collins Study Bible, folder of sermon notes, and a few other odds and ends, and headed out for something to eat. After a heavier supper than I should have eaten, I drove to the local Barnes & Noble and settled myself at a table in the cafe. I spent the next 3 1/2 hours writing my sermon from scratch (and by hand, I don't yet own a laptop), because as usual, I had a completely different approach come to mind during supper.

The cafes in the large bookstore chains have become community gathering places. Students work with tutors or gather to study together. Blind dates have their first meeting. Knitting groups knit and gossip over coffee. Chess players meet once a week to face off against each other. Sometimes there will be an author's reading or a music performance. Friends come just to hang out for a while. I've seen couples meet with their wedding planners, consultants meet with prospective clients, and committees plan events.

After I finished my draft, I got an ice tea and settled in for about an hour's recreational reading. It's always good to take a break before editing. Now that I'm home, I'll type up my draft and make some minor edits. Then it's off to bed. Hopefully, I won't have any 3 a.m. inspirations from the Holy Spirit.

Peace,
Jeff

Education for Ministry Sunday

In late April Episcopal Life posted inserts for Education for Ministry (EfM) and suggested they be used the first Sunday in May. I emailed the link to Lois and asked we should include them in our bulletins that Sunday and announce that if we had enough people, we would have a group at Grace Church. Even though I was going to be away that Sunday, I thought it was an important message to get out. Lois emailed me back and said she'd been thinking along the same lines but wanted to really "do" an EfM Sunday. I could preach. We'd use one of the historic liturgies from the EfM materials. Graduates and current participants from our parish could be available during coffee hour to answer questions, etc.

So that's what we did. Lois planned the liturgy using the "Romanized Gallican (Celtic) Eucharist" from a previous version of the Supplemental materials (it's not in our current edition). I preached:

Fourth Sunday After Pentecost, Proper 5: Genesis 12:1-9

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

People are by nature storytellers. We’ve been telling stories from the beginning of time. We’ve recorded them in many different ways: the 32,000-year-old cave paintings in the Grotte Chauvet, the Celtic High Crosses of the 9th and 10th Centuries, the 11th Century Bayeux Tapestry, or movies, radio and television of the 20th Century. The roots of modern theater can be found in the acting out of Bible stories for the “common people”—the uneducated masses who could not understand even the reading of Scripture in church, because the texts were in Latin. Even with all the newfangled technologies progress keeps throwing at us, we still find ways to tell our stories using them. If you doubt me, take a look at all the blogs on the web, or all the stuff on Facebook, or podcasts, or… Well, you get the idea.

As Christians we have what we sometimes call capital T The capital S Story, which is recorded in our Scriptures. We also call it God’s Story. But the Scriptures aren’t just God’s Story, they are also people’s stories and the story of how God and people have responded to each other. In today’s reading from Genesis we see a shift in The Story from the world in general to the story of those who call themselves God’s people.

And what a story it is. Dr. Burton Visotzky, rabbi and noted professor of ethics, calls it a 3,000-year-old tawdry soap opera. In a lecture I attended he told us you could think of it in tabloid headlines: “Brimstone Rains On Sodom, Man Sleeps With Daughters.” Or, and this was a thought I’d had long before I went to Dr. Visotzky’s lecture, look at it as a family story—a large, dysfunctional family. As a Christian, I’d even taken it a step further. This is Jesus’ large, dysfunctional family.

So how is it that we call this tawdry soap opera, this dysfunctional family history, how is it that we call it our sacred story? Capital T The capital S Story?

Well, it’s not. Not unless we engage it. Laugh with it. Cry with it. Argue with it. Scream at it. Wrestle with it. And not unless we do these things not only by ourselves, but also with others. Dr. Visotzky puts it this way. “When we discuss it in community, that’s when the revelatory process happens. The ability to hear God happens in the discussion and debate. When I pray, I talk to God; when I discuss, God talks to me.”

When we actively engage our Scriptures, we become part of a long tradition of people of faith struggling to live as God’s people in the world. We find ourselves sharing our stories. We start to see how our stories interact with each others’ and with God’s, how we are all part of capital T The capital S Story.

In many ways, it all boils down to two key questions. “What is my God story?” and “What is your God story?”

Part of my God story is that I’m a learner. I want to know who, what, when, where, why, and how. Where did these stories come from? Who wrote them down? When were they written down? Who interpreted them this way? Why are they so important to us? Why do we have only these ones? Why don’t we have any first-hand records of Jesus? Why? Why? Why? I suppose you could say I’m a perpetual two-year-old when it comes to Scripture. Every time I get an answer, I find myself asking why. For a long time, I wrestled with my questions and looked for answers on my own. I read a lot of books. I had occasional conversations with other folks. I kept asking questions.

Then about 12 years ago, Mom enrolled in Education for Ministry, or EfM as most of us call it. For four years she’d come to me and ask questions about what she was reading. Sometimes I had an answer, sometimes not, but we always had interesting discussions. The more I learned about the program, the more I thought it would be great to participate in it myself. So I patiently waited for Mom to graduate, so I could join the group here at Grace. The time came, and I signed up with six other members of our parish. Then for one reason or another, we found out that the group couldn’t meet at Grace. We scrambled and found a group in Westport that had room for all of us. At which point I realized, gee, I could have joined a different group a long time ago! On the other hand, I would have had a completely different experience than I did.

What can I tell you about EfM? A group of six to 12 people and one to two mentors meets once a week over the course of the “school year”—usually September to June. Year One participants study the Hebrew Scriptures, or the Old Testament. Year Twos study the Christian Scriptures, or the New Testament. Year Threes study Church History, and Year Fours Theology. Part of each seminar session is spent discussing the readings. Sounds like a prescription for a weekly nap, doesn’t it? At least until you put six or eight people in a room who feel safe enough with each other to share their views and opinions!

That’s the second key piece of EfM, and probably the most important. It’s not just a classroom of students discussing what they’ve read. Each group is a gathered community. We share our stories with each other—both the everyday stuff and our God Stories. We worship together. In the group I currently co-mentor we even share a meal, which is a blessing for those of us who arrive directly from work. Okay, sounds good, but really not much more than an in-depth bible study combined with abridged classes in Church History and Theology. Except that in EfM we don’t just study theology, we DO theology.

In his book Faith Seeking Understanding, Daniel Migliore writes

What is theology? It is neither mere repetition of church doctrines nor grandiose system building. It is faith asking questions, seeking understanding. It is disciplined yet bold reflection on Christian faith in the God of the gospel. It is the activity of "taking rational trouble over the mystery” of God revealed in Jesus Christ as attested in Scripture. It is inquiry yoked to prayer.” (p. 19)

It is faith asking questions, seeking understanding. In other words, theology is not the work of a group of dead Church Fathers, nor of a group of professors in a seminary, nor the clergy leading their churches. It is everybody’s work—you, me, Lois, those academics in their ivory towers, and yes, even those long dead Church Fathers whose writings make us crazy when we read them.

So what does doing theology look like? In Education for Ministry it takes the form of what we call Theological Reflection, or TR for short. The program has a handful of different methods for doing Theological Reflections, but the essential ingredients are looking at our stories, looking at God’s Story—usually in the form of a passage from capital T The capital S Story—and seeing where they intersect, or don’t. We engage the Scriptures fully, in community, often using an image or a metaphor familiar to everyone in the group. We look at what our contemporary culture has to say about what we see in the Scriptures, and we talk about what we believe personally. Finally, we share any insights we have had and look at the implications of our beliefs and our insights in terms of decisions we make and actions we may or may not take.

Serious stuff, this doing theology, isn’t it? But believe me, when a TR moves from someone’s story about standing up for themselves for the first time, to Dorothy realizing that the Ruby Slippers will take her home to Kansas, to Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego walking out of the blazing furnace, it is not a dull conversation!

So we have education, and we have theology. Where’s the ministry part? We find it with each other in the gathered community of our EfM group. We practice it when we take the insights and implications from the TRs out into the world. We do it when we listen to others’ God stories and share ours with them. It is the daily effort we make to live as faithful people of God in the world around us.

It’s not easy, and it is the journey of a lifetime. It is a journey we make one step at a time. It has been that way from the beginning, just as Abram’s journey from Haran did not happen in a single move. As his descendants continued to travel throughout their lives. And like Abram, who is initially given only limited information about the ways in which God will bless him, we don’t always have the whole picture. Not even capital T The capital S Story tells us everything.

So we make the journey with others in a variety of ways. I hope I’ve been able to give you taste of how EfM helps some of us on our journeys. If you want to talk some more about the program, I encourage you to talk to those members of Grace Church who have graduated from EfM and those who are currently involved. Let us share our stories with you.

And even if EfM is not for you, I encourage you to learn how to share your God story and to listen to others’ God stories. For it is in the sharing of these stories we begin to see how our story is part of Abram’s story, of Jesus’ story, of The Story. It is how we learn what it means to be human, to be people of God, to be Christian.

May we hear and share our stories over and over again. Amen.

Bible Study With The Bishops:

Reading Plan Text for May 6: John 12:1-8

I'm going to "cheat" today and post a sermon from Holy Week three years ago.

Peace,
Jeffri
==========================================

John 12:1-11
by Jeffri Harre
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church
Fairfield, Connecticut
March 21, 2005

“Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany…” Before the cheering crowds of his entry into Jerusalem, before Judas’ betrayal, before being arrested by the temple guard and taken first to the chief priests and then to the Roman governor, before, before, before… For a brief evening of quiet, Jesus stops at the house of his friend Lazarus. “There they gave a dinner for him,” John tells us.

This story or ones similar to it can be found in all four Gospels, but only Mark and John place it before the final trip to Jerusalem. And only John gives such a detailed account naming names and including specific descriptions of certain people and things. In John there is no “excess baggage,” every phrase has a reason, even if it isn’t always clear to us immediately. So, who are these people, and why are they here?

The first one mentioned is Martha, dependable, steadfast, practical Martha. When Lazarus died, it was she who ran out to meet Jesus. It was Martha who worried about the stench when they opened Lazarus’ tomb. And it was Martha who proclaimed her belief in Jesus as the Messiah. However, there are guests in the house, and Martha’s immediate response is to make sure that the meal is prepared and everyone is served. This time, unlike the last time there were guests in the house when she complained to Jesus that Mary wasn’t helping with the meal, she goes about her business quietly.

Next is Lazarus who “was one of those at the table” with Jesus. Even though he would obviously be the host of this evening, he also has nothing to say. However, this is not out of character given his complete silence after Jesus raised him from the dead. Lazarus may be a beloved friend, but anything he might actually have actually said is superfluous to the story of the Christ John is weaving for us.

John now turns to Mary, who plays the crucial role in this little drama. She brings a twelve ounce jar of very expensive imported perfume into the dining area. We know it is expensive both because John names it and Judas tells us it could be sold for 300 denarii. Nard is short for spikenard, which grows in the Himalayas and was used in perfume by wealthy Romans. Very few people in Roman Palestine would have been able to afford this luxury. Yet Mary takes this costly perfume, pours it over Jesus’ feet and then wipes it away with her hair.

This brings us to Judas, the first person to actually speak in this scene, and the only one to speak besides Jesus. He complains that the perfume could have been sold and the money given to the poor. But the Gospel writer does more than give Judas a couple of lines of dialogue. We are also given two additional details to make sure that we know Judas is, to quote Dorothy talking about the Wizard, “a very bad man.”

At this point, Jesus intervenes. He tells Judas to, “Leave her alone. She has bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial.”

Finally, there are the growing crowd in Bethany that has come to see the local celebrities and the chief priests who are even more nervous about their waning influence in the wake of Jesus’ ministry. These groups not only provide a marked contrast to the oasis of calm in Lazarus’s house, but also a transition to the entry into Jerusalem and Jesus’ final days.

But inside the house are people who know who Jesus is. Lazarus knows from his experience of being raised from the dead. Martha knows and has proclaimed her belief. Judas knows. And Mary knows. All of them know at some level or another that Jesus is the Messiah, promised to the world. But only Mary understands fully what it means and what is to come in the days ahead. While Martha serves, Lazarus sits, and Judas complains, Mary takes the expensive perfume and anoints Jesus’ feet—something usually done only while preparing a body for burial. Through her actions Mary shows that she knows that Jesus will die, and she knows there will not be an opportunity to do this loving service for Jesus before his burial.

Mary knows that without the events of the coming days—the entry into Jerusalem, the betrayal by Judas, the arrest, the trial, and the crucifixion—there can be no Easter. As Joan Chittester writes, “We go through death so that life can become new over and over again, so that over and over again, we can see the lives of those around us with new eyes.” If we take nothing else from this short scene from John’s Gospel, let us remember to take time with Mary to face head on the events of this week so that we may fully understand and celebrate the coming resurrection of our Savior.

Amen.

Exile And Return

Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost, October 28, 2007
Year C, Proper 25: Jeremiah 14: (1-6) 7-10, 19-22
Grace Episcopal Church, Norwalk, CT

by Jeffri Harre

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

It has been a few years since I last stood before you in this place. Although I made the painful decision to leave Grace Church, you were often on my mind and always in my prayers. I kept up with the goings on of the parish through my mother and a handful of friends. Over and over again I was asked, most often relayed by Mom, “When are you coming back?”

Again and again I would say, “This was an Exodus and not a Babylonian Exile.” I guess I was wrong, wasn’t I. And so, like a handful of others, the exile has returned. It seems appropriate that Jeremiah, who lived through the time of the Babylonian Exile, is one of the lectionary readings for my first sermon after my return.

When I first read the passage from Jeremiah in preparation for this morning, one of the first things that popped into my head was the demented Greek chorus from Edward Gorey’s “Inanimate Tragedy:”

"Death and Distraction!" said the Pins and Needles. "Destruction and Debauchery!"
"Duplicity and Desolation!" said the Needles and Pins. "Dissolution and Despair!"

Well, you get the idea. They go on like this throughout the entire poem. Jeremiah’s lamentations, judgments against the nations of the region, and oracles of destruction run through most of his book. As with the pins and needles, I find myself wanting to shout at Jeremiah, “Enough already! Shut up!”

Yet there are days when I walk into this church and feel like those who went to the well and found it dry. There are days when I gather with others of this parish and hear that many of us feel like those who covered their heads because the ground was parched and cracked. It is easy to fall into despair, to wail and gnash our teeth.

Which brings me to the second thing that came to mind as I read the lectionary for today—a verse from the 31st chapter of Jeremiah that was one of two scripture passages used as the foundation for the work of a conference I helped plan and implement not long after I began working in the Office of Children’s Ministries and Christian Education at the Episcopal Church Center:

Thus says the Lord:
A voice is heard in Ramah,
lamentation and bitter weeping.
Rachel is weeping for her children;
she refuses to be comforted for her children,
because they are no more.
(Jeremiah 31:15)

More lamentations from the exiles and those left behind. At which point not only do I want to tell Jeremiah, “Enough already!” but myself as well. Weeping and mourning are necessary, and even healthy, but at some point we have to move on. In Education for Ministry we use a call and response after each person has shared their Spiritual Autobiography:

For what has been,
Thanks be to God.
For what is,
Thanks be to God.
And for what will be,
Thanks be to God.

Remember where we have been, acknowledge where we are, and look forward to where we are going. For us here at Grace Church, we need to remember where we have been, because our experiences have changed us. And all of us have been changed—those who went into exile and returned and those who remained. We must acknowledge where we are, because if we do not, we cannot move forward, we will get mired in our lamentations over what has been. We absolutely must look forward to where we are going, because without a vision, we cannot build something new and different.

Jeremiah, for all his ranting and mourning, knows this. He works on the assumption that things will get better—he even buys a field while the Babylonians are besieging Jerusalem. If that isn’t optimism in the face of destruction, I don’t know what is! You can also see this hope if you continue reading past Rachel weeping for her children in Chapter 31. In the next verses God, through Jeremiah, offers hope to the people:

Thus says the Lord:
Keep your voice from weeping,
and your eyes from tears;
for there is reward for your work,
says the Lord:
they shall come back from the land of the enemy;
there is hope for your future,
says the Lord;
your children shall come back to their own country.
(Jeremiah 31:16-17)

And some of us have returned. This is just one of the first steps in building something new. If we want Grace Church not only to survive, but to flourish, then we need a vision. I know some of you have been working diligently with Lois on a new vision. I want to encourage all of us to participate in that work. Part of my own vision for the church, and not just Grace Church, but the whole church, comes from the second piece of scripture that we used at the “Will Our Faith Have Children?” conference--the opening of the 54th chapter of Isaiah, which is also addressed to the people at the time of the Exile:

Sing, O barren one, who did not bear;
break forth into singing and cry aloud,
you who have not been in travail:
For the children of the desolate one will be more
than the children of her that is married, says the Lord.
Enlarge the place of your tent,
and let the curtains of your habitations be stretched out;
hold not back, lengthen your cords
and strengthen your stakes.
For you will spread abroad to the right and to the left,
and your descendants will posses the nations
and will people the desolate cities.
(Isaiah 54:1-3)

Enlarge the place of your tent. What an image. Make room for those who are coming and be ready to welcome them when they arrive.

Enlarging the tent takes resources. (You didn’t think I was going to get to Stewardship, did you?) You need to be able to buy new canvas, ropes, poles and tent pegs. You need to make a pattern for the new sections of the tent, cut them from the canvas and sew them to the existing tent. You need to erect the new poles, pound in the new pegs and make sure the original pegs are firmly in place, and you need to string and tighten the ropes to hold the tent up. That’s not just money, but people power as well. And as hard as that may be to envision given our financial situation, that’s the easy part.

We must be ready, willing, and able to welcome folks when they arrive. As much as possible, treat them as if they are already members of our community. Greet them, sit with them, make sure they have everything they need to participate in the service, share the peace with them, and let them know you look forward to seeing them again. When they come a second time, treat them the same way. If fact, treat them, and each other, that way every time they come. Those who decide to join us will bring new gifts to the community, and we must be open and willing to accept those new gifts. Just as all of us have been changed by our experiences together and apart, so will we and they be changed by our experiences together.

Change is not easy, and we will often find ourselves turning to Jeremiah and his lamentations. But I hope that we will also turn to the words of hope and encouragement found in Jeremiah. Remember where we have been, acknowledge where we are, and look forward to where we are going.

For what has been,
Thanks be to God.
For what is,
Thanks be to God.
And for what will be,
Thanks be to God.

Let all God’s people say, “Amen!”