April 28, 2024
5th Sunday of Easter – Bill Harkins
John 15:1-8
15:1 “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower.
15:2 He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.
15:3 You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you.
15:4 Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me.
15:5 I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.
15:6 Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.
15:7 If you abide in me, and my words abide in you,
ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.
15:8 My Father is glorified by this,
that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.
In the Name of the God of Creation who loves us all, Amen. Good morning! And welcome to Holy Family on this 5th Sunday of Easter, and blessings to those of you who in any way have given of themselves in the service of compassion, the Hebrew word for which is, after all, Rachamim, meaning “wombish” or womb-like. So whenever we reach out to another in the womb-like embrace of compassion, we are, each of us, abiding with the other, just as Jesus abides with us. Begging the question, what does it really mean to “abide” with someone? How do we recognize this quality in others and perhaps more important, cultivate it in ourselves and live this out in our commitment to Holy Family?
Some time back Vicky and I attended a clinical conference in San Francisco, and we visited Grace Cathedral for the early morning service. We were entranced by this remarkable place of worship high atop a hill overlooking the city. Inside, we explored its various chapels, a labyrinth, lovely murals depicting the history of the city, and stunningly beautiful stained-glass windows. One is invited to enter this holy space, and to allow one’s spiritual imagination to come alive. The last available window space has recently been filled with an incredible stained glass piece, depicting a spiral nebula—a lovely galaxy much like our own milky way, spinning beautifully deep in outer space. I was reminded again of the words of Eucharistic Prayer C—“the vast expanse of interstellar space, galaxies, suns, the planets in their courses, and this fragile earth, our island home.” Somehow the depth and expansiveness of the cathedral seemed to contain a hint of all that, and more—a kind of mysterious engagement with the holy, as if the Spirit blew gently, constantly, lovingly through the cool depths of the very soul of the building holding us in its embrace.
After the celebration of the Eucharist we emerged into the brilliant northern California sunlight on a cool April morning. On a plaza just below the doors of the Cathedral is an outdoor labyrinth, encircled by Japanese Maples only now in full leaf, and luminous in the morning light. On the perimeter of the labyrinth nine or ten Cantonese women from a Buddhist monestary down the hill engaged in their morning ritual of Tai Chi, the lovely, synchronous form of worship, exercise, and meditation. We stood for a long while at the top of the steps, entranced by this rich, resonant sychronicity of worship and culture: our own celebration of the Eucharist, this labyrinth of ancient Celtic origins, and the deeply moving Chinese ritual of Tai Chi, all brought together by the grace-filled welcoming embrace of one of our Cathedrals.
My primary feeling was that of gratitude—a deep, abiding appreciation for the moment of Kairos we experienced. It was moment when the Spirit seemed so present, so close, so available. And that Spirit-time, that Kairos, points us to something that lies at the very heart and soul of who we are—what the world is, the very force that emanates from God and gives life to us all. This morning—in this light-filled space—we hear the remarkably poignant words spoken by Jesus, Abide in me as I abide in you. Put simply, Jesus’ incarnation of the ancient ideal of abiding, and love embodied in this term, was to become the pattern of how the disciples, and that includes us, were to love one another, the pattern, that is, of how we ought live our lives. St. Augustine once observed that Jesus loved each one he ever met as if there were no other in the entire world to love. He radically individualized and made incarnate the affection he acted out toward others. I was reminded on the steps of Grace Cathedral that morning that we are all made in the image of that extraordinary love—all of us—and this Holy space was an outward and visible sign, if you will, of the love which led Jesus to say that he would take us into himself.
That is the place he prepares for us. Jesus’ love for us was not just a radically incarnate, individual love. It was also a universal love, and it includes this planet earth, our island home, and everything in it, including Grace Cathedral, and this sacred space, and each of us, who are called to be earthen vessels of that love. The eyes with which he looked upon the world were never filled with disdain or contempt. We must never forget that the opposite of love is not anger, but rather indifference. Jesus loved each of us as if we were the only ones in the world, and he loved all as he loved each. And this speaks to the wisdom of C.S. Lewis, who made a distinction between what he called “need love” and “gift love.” Need love, says Lewis, is always born of emptiness—a kind of possessive acquisitiveness that is the relational, spiritual equivalent of a vacuum, like a black hole in outer space, sucking everything into its dark center. Lewis acknowledges that many times when we humans say, “I love you,” what we really mean is “I need you, I want you…you have value to me that I desire to make my own, regardless of the consequences to you.” Over against this image, Lewis contends that another form of love is radically, ontologically different. It is what he calls “gift love.” Rather than being born of emptiness, or impoverishment, and the needs to which they point, this form of loving is one of fullness, and grace, and gratitude. Its goal is to enrich and enhance the beloved rather than extract value. Gift love moves out to bless and increase—to enliven, nurture, and sustain the other. It is more like an ever-flowing spring than a needful vacuum. Lewis concludes by saying that the uniqueness of the biblical vision of reality is that God’s love is “gift love,” not “need love.” He reminds us that, “we humans are made in the image of such everlasting and unconditional love,” we are created Imago Dei—in the image of God. Not only are we loved by God in this way, we can choose to live our lives this way. We are most likely to fall into “need love” when we are feeling scared, or vulnerable in some way—when faced with new situations or people who are different in one way or another. But even then, in the midst of our uncertainty, we can choose, with God’s grace, to grow into the wonder of “gift love.”
Sometimes the examples of this come from places we might not expect—sources that catch us by surprise, origins that fill us with awareness of the fullness of that “gift love.” On a summer day in 1998 more than 300 PBS stations across the nation aired a very special episode of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood that featured KoKo, the sign-language-using gorilla. Mr. Rogers’ visit to KoKo’s home at The Gorilla Foundation helped launch a week of programming entitled “You and I Together” which addressed the confusion and fears of young children when confronted with new situations or people who are different. The weeklong theme of “inclusion” featured KoKo and helpful talks about feeling included, no matter the nature of one’s disability, infirmity, skin color, race, gender, religion, or sexual orientation. It turned out that “Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood” was one of KoKo’s very favorite TV shows. And when this gentle Presbyterian pastor, beloved by so many, entered KoKo’s room, she immediately embraced him in a gentle gorilla hug, and in sign language said, “Love you, neighbor, KoKo love.” KoKo then bent down to help Mr. Rogers remove his shoes, as she had seen him do every day, for so many years, on his show. She then helped him remove his sweater. So, you see, gift love is available to us all, and can come from unexpected sources. And with the grace of God we can choose to embrace that love, just as KoKo embraced Mr. Rogers. The Spirit of that love infuses and energizes and enlivens. It was present in the Cantonese women doing Tai Chi—and no doubt they will be there this morning. It was present in the seekers walking the labyrinth that day. No doubt they will be there again.
It was present in those who gathered for the celebration of the Eucharist, 2000 years ago, and at Grace Cathedral and all such places, and it is present for us, here and now, in this sacred space we have come to love. In some versions of our Eucharist the priest may say “Behold what you are…become what you receive.” This phrase goes way back to St. Augustine, who in the 5th century preached a sermon in which he reminded us all that by our participation in the Eucharist we are transformed into the Body of Christ, broken and blessed, and given for the world. Like the bread we break this morning, each of us is broken too—we each have places of loneliness, fear, disappointment, shame…And so accepting and making friends with this part of ourselves, is a part of the journey of giving ourselves to something bigger than we are…we call this entrusting ourselves to God’s care, and allowing the Holy Spirit in Her wisdom to guide us. And when we know ourselves as God’s beloved, like KoKo and Mr. Rogers, we become the love we have received. With the help of that Spirit, and God’s ever-present and unfailing grace, we can grow into the deep mystery of loving each one as if there is no other in the world, and loving all, as we love each. As Wendell Berry has written:
The Incarnate Word is with us,
is still speaking, is present,
always, yet leaves no sign
but everything that is.Amen.
April 14, 2024
3rd Sunday of Easter – Bill Harkins
In the name of the God of Creation who loves us all. Amen.
Good Morning and welcome to Holy Family on this the 3rd Sunday of Easter! I’m so glad you are joining us today.
In this chapter of our lives at Holy Family, I find myself empathizing with the Disciples in ways perhaps new for me. Maybe you do so as well. We know they have been scared, and in the reading for today, they don’t recognize Jesus when he appears. Begging the question, when we are in a season of uncertainty and transition, can we recognize Christ in the face of the other, our sisters and brothers, and can we remain relatively non-anxious enough to lead with wisdom, and resilience? And, let’s remember we have only recently emerged from an unprecedented time of social distancing and quarantine, and we’ve all been on a post-pandemic journey of sorts. One of our daughters-in-law is an epidemiologist with the CDC, now working remotely from Houston, and so I pay attention to CDC notices of various kinds. Not only are we all still adjusting to life after the pandemic, we are also in what the Surgeon General has called an “epidemic of loneliness,” exacerbated by the pandemic and the real and ambiguous losses, as well as the anticipatory grief and anxiety we all feel to varying degrees. We are also in a season of political discord which,
April 7, 2024
Second Sunday of Easter – Bill Harkins
The Collect of the Day: Second Sunday of Easter
Almighty and everlasting God, who in the Paschal mystery established the new covenant of reconciliation: Grant that all who have been reborn into the fellowship of Christ’s Body may show forth in their lives what they profess by their faith; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
The Gospel: John 20:19-31
When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”
But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands,
March 31, 2024
Easter Sunday – George Yandell
One day, three men were walking along and came upon a raging, violent river. They needed to get across to the other side, but had no idea how to do it. The first man prayed to God saying, “Please, God, give me the strength to cross this river.” Poof! God gave the man big arms and strong legs, and he was able to swim across the river in about two hours.
Seeing this, the second man prayed to God, saying, “Please, God, give me the strength and ability to cross this river.” Poof! God gave him a rowboat and he was able to row across the river in about three hours.
The third man, seeing how things had worked out for the other two, also prayed to God, saying, “Please, God, give me the strength and ability and intelligence to cross this river.” And poof! God turned him into a woman; she looked at the map, then walked across the bridge.
Humor aside, the prominence of women as the initial ones to experience the power of Easter cannot be denied. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were the first to hear the angel say, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised”.
These two Marys were among the brave women who had watched Jesus die his agonizing death. They had followed his lifeless corpse to mark the place where it was entombed by Joseph of Arimathea.