Author: Rosemary Lovelace

St. Francis – George Yandell

Often our religious leaders play a game with us- “activate your faith.” They extol, berate, confront us, saying, “If you had stronger belief like others, you could do marvelous things, create peace, bring world hunger to an end,” and so on. They make religion out to be a list of do’s and don’ts, and set up hierarchies of achievement. And they insist that there is only one correct system of belief, obtained by practicing their brand of religion.

Jesus said something powerfully different. In the passage just preceding our Matthew reading, Jesus tells about the difference between John the Baptist and the powerful people John upbraided, who refused repentance: “Father, you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and have revealed them to infants, for such was your gracious will…I am gentle and humble in heart: my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Jesus suggests a big difference between the religion of the many, & faith in the simple things.

Religion is the human group endeavor to make faith both memorable and manageable. On the other hand, faith will have none of it, is always testing religion’s boundaries. Religion wants to make molds out of which it can reproduce faithful people; religion murders faith, but the irony is the two are such as to require one another. (This definition works with any institution, eg, government and justice, marriage and love, schools and truth, hospitals and health, etc, etc.)

Religion means “to re-connect us to God”. Church often interprets its role in re-linking people to God as providing forms, organization, new programs, challenges, oaths of loyalty to get adherents to believe and act the right way.

Faith is something else entirely. Trust is the result, the product of a process of growing faith. The Letter to the Hebrews defines faith- “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Trust comes from living in faith, without proof.

Francis of Assisi exemplifies simple faith. His life demonstrated his complete trust in God’s generous Spirit. He grew up the son of a prosperous merchant. Various encounters with beggars and lepers pricked the young man’s conscience. He decided to embrace a life devoted to poverty and serving the poor. The Pope confirmed the simple Rule of Order of Friars Minor, a name Francis chose to emphasize being among the “least” of God’s servants. The order grew rapidly over all Europe. Five years before his death, Francis had lost control of his order because his ideal of strict and absolute poverty was found too difficult. Francis’s last years were spent in much suffering of body and spirit, but his unconquerable joy never failed. [Above adapted from Holy Women, Holy Men, p. 622]

The Galatians reading includes Paul’s provocative statement: “I carry the marks of Jesus branded on my body.”  These are thought to be scars from Paul’s sufferings and beatings as Christ’s missionary, like the brand marks of a slave. Not long before his death during a spiritual retreat, Francis received the marks of the Lord’s wounds, the stigmata, in his own hands and feet and side. Strangely enough, that day was Holy Cross Day, Sept. 14, 1226, just two and a half weeks before his death. Francis was canonized just two years later, and Pope Gregory the 9^th began the erection of the great basilica in Assisi where Francis is buried. [Above adapted from Holy Women, Holy Men, p. 622] Had he still been alive, he’d have been horrified and grieved at that basilica’s creation.

It is critical for you and me to recognize the difference between religion and faith- and to recognize that being faithful is all that’s required. Being faithful is all God asks of us. Being faithful requires us to yield ourselves to the encounters we have with God. Those encounters may come through the established forms of our faith-group, our religion. God-encounters may come from tragedies that help us to fall into God’s loving arms, finding God loves us. God-encounters may come through friends who live in such ways that they inspire us to learn the sources of their faith. God-encounters often lead us to living from our best selves, while accepting our failings, shortcomings.

Being faithful in small ways leads us to be faithful in larger ways. Faith can become the bedrock of our days, giving ourselves to God, caring for our family, our friends, our colleagues at work. Caring even for our enemies, with awareness that they too are God’s own. Practicing prayerful listening and responding to God becomes a normal pattern in those being faithful to God. People being faithful intend more and more, as God grows in them, to be Jesus to those around them, as much as it is possible. A wise man I sought out years ago to help me in praying said, “George, long-term practice of prayer and reflection with God always makes the pray-er yearn for God’s justice. Pray-ers always end up desiring God’s love to inhabit the whole earth.”

Faith yields trust, the fruit of balanced living, oriented to God. Faith only rarely generates by red-faced men yelling at us to “get it right, get it right, for once!”

I want to offer you a thoughtful prayer that may assist in being faithful, becoming trusting of God. It was created in honor of Francis: A Franciscan Blessing

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy. And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done. Amen

Proper 21C – George Yandell

Jesus tells us another parable today, immediately following last week’s parable about the dishonest steward. This one is about an unnamed rich man and a poor man named Lazarus. In this study of contrasts and reversals, Jesus denounces the abuse of power and privilege by the wealthy at the expense of the poor and marginalized. Whereas the rich man dressed in fine clothes and “feasted sumptuously every day” (v. 19), Lazarus longed to eat even the scraps from the rich man’s table. He lay outside the gate of the rich man’s home and was covered with sores instead of purple linen. The fact that dogs—unclean animals—came to lick his sores added to his wretchedness and outcast status.

But the poor man has one thing that the rich man does not- the dignity of a name. Lazarus is the only person specifically named in any of Luke’s parables. The name itself is a variant of Eleazer, which means ‘God heals’ or ‘God helps’. The rich man is often referred to as Dives, a term derived from Latin for “rich man.” He is unnamed in the parable, however.

When both men die, their situations are reversed. Whereas the poor man “was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham”, the rich man found himself tormented in Hades. Lazarus now resides in comfort, while the rich man is cast out and endures agony. Lazarus once lay alone at the gate, longing for scraps of food; now the rich man looks across the chasm from Hades and begs for mercy. (Hades, or Sheol, is the Hebrew realm of the dead; in this case it is seen as a place of punishment.)

In an echo of words from the Magnificat (Lk. 1:51-53) and Luke’s Beatitudes (6:20, 24), Abraham’s response in verses 25-26 leaves no doubt that the situation has been changed forever. In life, the rich man had received “good things” and Lazarus “evil things”. Now the reverse is true, as the promises of God turn social and economic expectations upside down. Furthermore, the chasm that now exists between the two men is so wide that it cannot be crossed.

In death the rich man is now as powerless as the poor man had been in life. The rich man finds himself in this position because he misused his wealth and position. He could have helped Lazarus, but he did not. [Adapted from Synthesis: A Weekly Resource for Preaching, September issue.] The rich man is condemned for his indifference, not because he is rich. Indifference is his undoing. [Jesus Seminar, The Five Gospels, p. 361, 1997, Harper Collins.]

This parable could be an attack against the popular belief in Jesus’ day that wealth was an indication of being blessed by God; the attitude that poverty was punishment from God. Apparently some in Jesus’ day took this belief a step further and concluded that they had better not interfere with God’s punishment of such evil poor people—even though the Hebrew Scriptures are clear about helping the needy.

Lazarus is a man who can do nothing for himself. He can’t even keep the feral wild dogs from licking his sores. He depends upon the angels for transportation to Abraham’s side. In contrast, the rich man was able to take care of himself—to provide himself with the finest things. But it’s clear, one doesn’t have to be rich to be greedy and selfish and uncaring. We also shouldn’t conclude that the way to salvation is to be financially poor. The way to deliverance for the rich and the poor is to be “helped by God”—or, to use images from the ending of the parable, to hear the word and to change. [Adapted from Brian Stoffregen at crossmarks.com]

Years ago I was doing research with an eccentric psychologist in Memphis. He had a commission from an ad agency to discover what motivated dog owners to want their pets sedated. The ad agency was trying to land a large contract with a pet pharmaceutical company to run their campaign for a new drug for dogs. My partner and I interviewed 12 dog owners. We asked them if their dogs ever chewed up furniture or made messes in the house when the pet owner was away. Many said, “Yes. It really makes me mad.” When we asked them, “What is best about your dog?”, they all answered, “The way his whole body wags and he whimpers when I come in the door- he seems so glad and relieved to see me- I just love him for that.” 

So we were in a quandary – the pharmaceutical company wanted to offer a product to diminish dogs’ destructive urges, but we knew the drug couldn’t be perceived as dulling the dogs’ affection for the owners.

I combed through all the verbatim interview transcripts, looking for cues about the subconscious motives people were expressing. All of a sudden, a cue they repeated more than any other jumped out at me- it was ‘witnessed significance’. From the landmark book The Healing Spirit by Paul Fleischman: [The Healing Spirit: Explorations in Religion and Psychotherapy, Bonne Chance Press, 1989, pp. 5- 20] Witnessed significance is a universal need in every person. Religion has traditionally noted and responded to this need. At base the need is for God to know us, respond to us, for God to validate us as persons worthy of God’s attention. Humans can witness to the significance of others and in a sense, stand in for God. I concluded that for the dog owners, their companion animals were witnessing their significance, and in a way, expressing God’s love for the pet owners. The ad agency got the contract. And we got paid. They sold the new drug as a light mood suppressant, but that wouldn’t dull the dogs’ natural energy and effervescent love.

Indifference is the opposite of witnessing the significance of others. The rich man wasn’t condemned to hell because he was rich, but because he stepped around Lazarus time after time without noticing or responding. The dogs who licked Lazarus’ wounds were much more loving than the rich man. The rich man’s indifference condemned him. I like what Barbara Brown Taylor said, “Salvation is not something that happens only at the end of a person’s life. Salvation happens every time someone with a key uses it to open a door he could lock instead.”

When we read (sang) the psalm, we recited a promise from God, “Because you are bound to me in love…..I will protect you, because you know my name. I am with you in trouble: I will rescue you and bring you honor… and show you my salvation.” When we stand in for God, we live out these promises God makes to all humanity. With God’s help, we witness the significance of each being, particularly those who suffer from the indifference of the prevailing culture. We honor the neighbor who is missing her significance in God’s eyes. That’s our ministry in a nutshell. Lazaruses one and all.  

Proper 20 C – George Yandell

Amy-Jill Levine writes [in Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi (N. Y.: HarperOne, 2014): “Jesus knew the best teachings come from stories that make us laugh even as they make us uncomfortable. [Parables are] not tools for shaming or inculcating guilt, but for good hard lessons learned with a sense of playfulness.” We tend to domesticate the parables in order to control their meaning. “If the interpretation does not raise for us more questions, if it does not open us up to more conversation, if it creates a neat and tidy picture, we need to go back and read it again”. Parables challenge, provoke, convict, and amuse.

Today’s parable is a doozy. It does all the above- challenges, provokes, convicts and amuses. Over the centuries followers of Jesus have scratched our heads and gone to exhaustive lengths to try to understand, or explain away, what Jesus was (or was not) saying here. One writer suggests that this parable in particular, along with numerous other passages in Scripture, is more fully understood when viewed through the lens of humor. Unfortunately, the humor of Christ is usually overlooked as an aspect of his teachings. Laughter is the sudden perception of incongruity between our ideals and the actuality before us. [Adapted from Elton Trueblood in The Humor of Christ (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1964.]

Jesus deliberately exaggerated to point out our foibles; he used hyperbole to clarify and increase our understanding; to reveal aspects of truth which would not otherwise be revealed; and to call attention to what would, without [humor], remain hidden or unappreciated. Truth, truth alone, is the end and the goal. [ibid]

Today the question from Jesus seems to be: Dishonest Steward or Shrewd Manager? Now here’s a surprise: The master praised the crooked manager! And why? Because he knew how to look after himself. Streetwise people are smarter in this regard than law-abiding citizens. They are on constant alert, looking for angles, surviving by their wits.

You might say Jesus was telling his hearers: “I want you to be smart in the same way—but for what is right—using every adversity to stimulate you to creative survival, to concentrate your attention on the bare essentials, so you’ll live, and not complacently just get by on good behavior.” [Adapted from Eugene H. Peterson in The Message Remix: The Bible in Contemporary Language, Colorado Springs: Navpress, 2003.]

One theologian suspects that Jesus set up a barter economy with the people who followed him. The feedings of the multitudes could have had that barter economy as their basis. They could exchange the necessities of life without entering the market place, avoiding taxes and looking after one another in the process. In that context one can ask: Who is this manager? Is he an unscrupulous crook who cooked the books and cheated his boss? Or did he outwit a corrupt system in which the rich were exploiting the working classes? Perhaps the master himself was a less than upstanding member of the business community. In contemporary context, he might have been the manager of a shady hedge fund or a Ponzi scheme perpetrator; or perhaps he hid company profits in tax-sheltered offshore accounts. [ibid]

Whatever the case, the steward’s quick thinking and ingenuity benefited not only him but ultimately his master, as well as the master’s debtors. Unquestionably, few passages of Scripture have created more conflicting views than this parable, especially since the steward is commended by his master for his actions. The story probes and tests the limits of our neat moral universe. [ibid]

One way to view the steward is to associate him with the underdog trickster figure of literature and folklore. Perhaps he could be likened to a Robin Hood character who stole from the rich to give to the poor. The Hebrew tradition is rich in underdog tales—the person who is least likely to succeed, and yet does. “Trickster narratives help us cope with the insurmountable and uncontrollable forces in our own lives, personifying and in a sense containing the chaos that always threatens.” This image held special appeal for Israel, since throughout its history, the nation held a self-image as underdog and trickster. [Adapted from Susan Niditch in Underdogs and Tricksters: A Prelude to Biblical Folklore, San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1987.]

Although we may not always condone the tactics of a trickster such as the steward, we can admire their pluck and willingness to take risks, and may even find ourselves cheering them on. [ibid]

That the steward in many ways did not really deserve to be commended may be a means of making the Gospel’s point. Grace is a surprise—as it was to the disciples. Grace comes anyway, even to the unredeemable—even the steward! The expedient actions of the steward—whether dishonest or shrewd—call to mind one of the Dalai Lama’s eighteen Rules for Living: “Learn the rules so that you know how to break them properly.” [Adapted from Frederick Houk Borsch in Many Things in Parables: Extravagant Stories of New Community (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988.]

The paradox of the steward’s behavior can be summed up in this way: “The point of the Unjust Steward is that it’s better to be a resourceful rascal than a saintly schlemiel.” [Frederick Buechner in Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC, N.Y..: Harper & Row, 1973].

In The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis, the senior devil warns his apprentice: “If the fact ever gets out that you and I cannot stand laughter, then the game is up and over.” That is an apt way of understanding the steward’s actions, and his master’s acceptance of them. If you can’t laugh at the way God acts on occasion, how can the impishness in creation be accepted? It seems to me that the parables can be read as high and holy jokes about God and about humans and about the Gospel itself as the highest and holiest joke of them all. [Adapted from Frederick Buechner in Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale, N. Y.: Harper & Row, 1977.] In one of her visions, or “showings,” the 14th-century Christian mystic Julian of Norwich “laughed greatly” for she “understood that we may laugh to comfort ourselves and rejoice in God, because the devil is overcome.” 

Proper 19 C – George Yandell

There’s a certain excess in Jesus that I used to find outrageous, but increasingly now find tremendously joyful. He zaps helpless fig trees. He sleeps on the fantail of a boat in a hurricane. He feeds thousands with next to nothing. He praises a shepherd who’d ignore 99 nearsighted, beetle-brained sheep just to go after one that’s lost. He heals. He admonishes. He predicts, he indicts. He commends a poor widow who finds a lost coin and spends whatever others she has left just to celebrate. He makes one wonder whether the gospel’s not only about change, but also about small change.

And this is the son in whom God is proud and to whom God also wants us to listen? This is the one for whom we should seek in our neighbor? This is what happens when the Word becomes flesh? This is the Way, the Truth, the Life? The Christ? Well… Yes.

It’s no wonder the tax collectors and sinners were curious. The prophets were easy to ignore, but not this. They could identify with Jesus if for no other reason than his apparent profligacy, a kind of recklessness that in a way confirmed their own. And it’s no wonder the religious leaders and their minions got even stiffer necks than usual. One audience with him, and all their careful religion – school curriculum was either ready for rewrite or else down the drain.

Is there any conceivable message for us, his church, his disciples, those of us gathering together Sunday in and Sunday out in his name? On this anniversary of 9-11? Maybe. Perhaps the tithe is more like ninety percent than ten. It’s all finders-keepers with the rest. [adapted from Lane Denson sermon 9-16-07]

Even seemingly simple stories are not always what they appear to be. Jesus in his ministry was a master of ‘creative indirection’—an original and perceptive rabbi. His methods and his ends are not as transparently clear as some interpretations would have it. Today’s parables are an example of this.

The story of the lost sheep can relate to individual as well as corporate salvation. “I once was lost, but now am found…….”, but that’s not Jesus’ point here.  The shepherd goes after the lost sheep not only to save her, but more importantly to save the other ninety-nine. The other 99 cannot achieve wholeness apart from the 100th. In this passage, there is no individual salvation or blessedness—no rugged individualism, no rejection of the vulnerable and useless. The majority cannot be saved apart from the well-being of the minority. This is God’s wisdom, which confounds the wisdom of self-interest. Jesus is all about politics here—the politics of salvation, which must embrace all of us, body, mind, and spirit, for any of us to be whole. [Adapted from Bruce Epperly in Synthesis for Sept. ‘13]

Discovering the lost coin is essential to the completion of the other nine coins. The many are incomplete without the one. The one is lost not by choice, or foolish wandering, but by being caught in cracks. A peasant woman had ten coins, which might have had holes in them so that they could be worn as a necklace (as was the custom). Thus the loss of one of them could have spoiled the beauty of the necklace’s design. [The above adapted from King Oehmig, Synthesis, Sept. ‘13]

There is an obvious social commentary here:  how many persons are lost because no one notices, no one cares, no one offers support or welcome? A healthy society or church does not abandon anyone—no child is truly left behind in the inner city or rural Appalachia. The church is called to a style of hospitality that seeks rather than waits, that goes out to find the lost rather than expecting them to come to us. For whom are we to look in our communities? The church doors are open to let us out—to have Bible studies at Starbucks or Pub Theology at The Old Mule House, to prepare meals for hungry children in our county to eat over weekends, to advocate for the voiceless. God’s joy comes from people finding a home, from the lost completing the lives of the found. Our salvation and wholeness depend on the lost being found & welcomed. [ibid]

The Qumran Manual of Discipline was one of the first Qumran scrolls to be discovered. It was designed to protect the purity of the community’s Hebrew fellowship. A member who committed even minor infractions was excluded from the sharing of the common meal for the duration of repentance. And there was no possibility for letting outsiders partake of the sacred meal.  Almost everyone at the time would refuse to eat with known sinners who did not try to live according to the received patterns. In fact, most Qumran people chose to have as little contact with the unrighteous as possible.

Jesus was different. He sought out the acknowledged sinners of the community, so that they began to feel comfortable in his presence. He could speak their language. And, of course, you can’t do anything for people whose company you carefully avoid. It would have been possible for Jesus to argue the issue within the religious community—and perhaps to cite examples from the lives of the prophets. But Jesus had a better idea. He stated a hypothetical question in story form. For us, the compelling point in these two stories is that the disciples of Jesus cannot afford to keep their distance from the people around them who are not living by the Lord’s standards. [ibid] They complete our mutual salvation, salvation here and now as God’s kingdom becomes present.  

Proper 18C – George Yandell

I have preached from this Luke passage more than 20 times. Each time I wonder: “Did Jesus really mean his disciples must hate family and life itself or they cannot be his disciples? Did he really mean each disciple must carry her own cross, preparing to die a tortured death, to be obedient?” And in each sermon I’ve tried to offer folks some hope- lessening the severity of what Jesus said, showing other ways to understand what Jesus says. I was wrong to do so. 

What Jesus offers the large crowd is not just hatred of fathers and mothers, but an example of what it means to follow God’s ways at a certain time of history. Simply put, if you’re not willing to take what is dearest to you, whether plans or people, and kiss it goodbye, you can’t be a Jesus disciple. Hatred here is meant not in a psychological sense. It means disowning, renouncing, rejecting- those who become disciples of Jesus must commit exclusively to entering God’s kingdom with Jesus. (Interesting note- Greek for “large crowd” = ‘’x’oi polloi’- sound familiar? It meant large crowd of common people, not as we hear it today- the hoy polloi, the upper-crust glommed up together.)

Jesus was, I believe, leading the way through horrible times, opening the kingdom then and there to all. Most of those around him were clinging to the patriarchal system when Rome was exploiting the way the Jews had operated for centuries- the son married and took his bride into his father’s household, then the oldest son inherited the household from his father. Jesus spoke against trying to make the old ways work when fathers and mothers were losing their land, their way of living, yet not adapting. Households were being driven into servitude. Jesus was trying to help his disciples change, yet prepare to pay the horrible price he foresaw they would have to pay. He meant to give them a way through to depending on God alone. I believe His words were compassionate, loving warnings to his closest friends. This is the Way to live through these times of oppression: come together in a table fellowship where family has changed- where each shares with others of their meager belongings. Sharing in love and asking God to bless it.

So: Hating parents is not a general instruction to all ages of believers. Some few today have been called to such rejection of family and life; but rarely do the followers of Jesus now help their fellows, or themselves, by hating family. When the Church decides it is good to hate (whether family, non-believers, folks different from us, people who might endanger our sanctity), the Church is always wrong. The church then hears the words of Jesus incorrectly, and they fall away from the love Jesus intends now and in every age of the church. I want to tell you a story about hate and its cost.

Once there was a man named John. John’s mother died when he was a sophomore in high school. After his mother’s death, John and his father argued about everything. They fought until each was red in the face, calling names, then stomped away from each other, saying they hated each other. They did this until John was 32 and his father developed cancer. Son John became overwhelmed with guilt at how he had hated his father. He went and talked to his priest, to ask forgiveness for his hatred. The priest said these words: “Jesus intends for us to live in God’s kingdom now. It’s very hard to do. We have to die to anything that holds us back. You need to die to your anger with your father.//” At the priest’s instruction, John went to his father’s bedside, and said he wanted to talk. The father started in on him, just as always. “What the hell do you want now, money? For me to change my will? I’m dying here- leave me alone!”

John gathered his courage, took his father’s hand in his own, and said, “Dad, we’ve fought as long as I can remember. Other people, family, friends, tell me how much they love you and are so sad to hear of your illness. I’ve never known the man they speak of. Can we let our anger die, and be new father and son to each other in the time we have left together? I want to know you before I no longer have the chance.” And John kissed his father’s hand, his eyes streaming tears. His father was startled into silence. 

Then the father said, “Son, I’ve envied you for so long, then gotten angry with you, it’s like you’re already dead to me. After you were born, the time I loved to spend with your mother was taken away from me. She held you, played with you, was so happy, and I was bumped out of the way. I started working more, spent more time playing golf. Then your mother died.  I’ve envied your success, and I’ve yelled at you as a failure, but you’re not. I’ve drawn away from your children, and blamed you for their lack of contact with me.  When your mother died, I wanted to die with her. I think I’ve blamed you for everything that has ever gone wrong with my life. I think these last few years anger with you was all I had to keep me going. I don’t know how to change.”

John said, “Dad, when I realize how much of my life’s energy has gone into hating you, I just want to die. I’m sure I’m not as good a father as my kids need. But one thing I know, when you die, if I haven’t come to know the real you, I’ll carry the hate inside, and it’ll turn on me. I’ll have you inside me hating me. And I can’t stand for that to happen.” John shook his head, and said, “Dad, we’re really screwed up. I want to take you out tomorrow to a special place. Will you come with me? It won’t take long.”

The next day, the attendant helped John get his father in the car. They drove through town to the outskirts, and kept on until they got way out in the country. The father dozed in the seat, his head lolling. Then John stopped and helped his father out. He gasped to see they were standing on the lip of an immense old rock quarry, crystal clear water shimmering way below them. John said, “Dad, I’ve brought you a chair. I want you to sit here while I climb up to the top ledge up there.” His father said, “This is the old quarry I told you never to come to! It was too dangerous. What are we doing here now?” The son said, “I need you to witness something. I’m going to jump off that high rock like I did in high school. Every time I did it, and slammed into the water the 65 feet below here, I forgot all the pain at losing mom. I felt pure freedom, knowing I was doing something you’d forbidden me to do, something you couldn’t control. It was my secret. I want to jump now for you, with you. I hope we can let our anger die in the fall. Just wait here and watch.” 

The father sat there, stunned. John stripped down to his swimming trunks in the cool fall day. With bare feet he started climbing the dirt trail to the highest rock on the sheer wall. As his father watched, John waved at him, then leapt out to clear the rock ledges below, and soared way down into the clear water. A geyser of water erupted above him as his feet slapped the water. The seconds dragged by, the father more and more anxious as his son didn’t appear at the surface. All of a sudden John lunged up, gasping a breath, then yelled, “We did it!” As John swam toward the gravel ramp and stepped out of the water, the father shook with relief, and something else. He literally couldn’t believe what he had witnessed. 

From that day on, John’s visits with his father changed. The priest sometimes brought communion to John’s family at his father’s bedside. They prayed together. The week his father died, John heard him say with labored breath, “Yeah, I get it. We leapt together. Thank God. John, I love you.” 

I am convinced that Joan Chittister is right in her book The Story of Ruth. Chittister wrote, “There is no one through whom God does not work.” To be disciple of Jesus today means to take the leap, let God work through us. Ask and answer questions about human relationships in such a way that we honor God. “To whom am I to be neighborly?” is a good question for us to ask. It honors God. “How am I to live today so that those I touch sense God’s love through me?” is another good question to ask. “What can we work on here in Jasper with others, so that we embrace God’s ways together?” If we ask these questions, then we are on the road to being disciples of Jesus. If we answer questions like these every day of our lives, then we truly are entering God’s domain with Jesus.

Pentecost 12 – Ted Hackett

Today’s Gospel is about getting God’s approval…

     About how you qualify for the Kingdom of God because the coming

     Kingdom of God was the main concern of Jesus and the early Church.

          The humble man gets rewarded by getting a more prestigious seat…

               There are two issues in most Gospel stories.

                    Humility and charity…

In these readings…these are the markers of a Christian.

     Now that shouldn’t be news to any of us….

          We know that for over 2,000 years Christians have been struggling to be       

          humble, charitable and…loving…

               With very, very mixed success…

                     Which is why confession, repentance and forgiveness are so

                    important in our Christian journey…

                         Not new news…

But there is something else in this Gospel reading that we also find familiar…

     So familiar that we may not notice…

          In the Gospel stories…

               There are rewards for doing something charitable…or being humble…

                                                                                And these rewards seem to depend on what we do.

It seems we are supposed to love or be charitable –

     to get a reward…

          And by implication…

               Avoid some kind of punishment…

                    It makes God and Jesus into

                         “Transactionalists”

                              If you do or don’t do what I want…you will be

                              rewarded or punished.

It’s like comedian George Carlin’s bit about what he learned in Parochial school…

     “God loves you…God especially loves you if you do what he wants you to…

     and if you  don’t…He will throw you into Hell where you will burn in agony for

     all eternity…because he loves you!”…

          The first Christians adopted this notion very early…

               St. Paul…the first Christian writer,

               resorts to it a lot…

                    And here it turns up in the

                    Gospels…in the latter part of the first century!

Now this is not surprising…

     This “Transactional” theology was part of first century Judaism…and the early

     Jesus-people were Jews…

          And it was not only Judaism, but almost every religion that was concerned

          with morals.

               The fact was that most people believed that the best way to get people to

               do right was to threaten them…

                    Pope Gregory the Great in the 6th century was clear…

                         To convert heathen barbarians…scare them with Hellfire…

                         then sooth them with forgiveness.

                              Some churches still follow that advice…

But that understanding seems to be in conflict with a lot of what is attributed to Jesus in the Gospels…

     On one hand the Gospels of Mark and Matthew have Jesus saying that if your

     hand does something bad, amputate it, because that is better than being

     thrown into Hellfire.

     But on the other hand…

          In so many of his parables, Jesus says that in the Kingdom of God,

               God loves you…unconditionally…

                    and does not reward according to your works…

Look at the Parables…

     The parable of the Prodigal…

          The selfish kid is completely restored…simply because his Father loves him.

     The parable of the laborers in the vineyard…

          The men who worked just a short while received as much pay as those who

          worked in the sun all day…

     The parable of The Pharisee and the tax collector…

          The crooked traitor who collected Taxes for the Romans and stole some of

          the money…went away forgiven when he simply prayed for mercy…

          nothing else!

And so it goes…

     In fact…God’s love sometimes offends our own sense of fairness…

          The prodigal did not deserve to be given back the property he wasted…the

          older brother was right!

               Our sense of fairness is based on transactions…

                    You do what I want you to…

                         And I will reward you…

                              If you don’t I will get you!

But Jesus seems to contradict himself…

     Sometimes he talks of rewards and punishment…

          Sometimes he talks of the absurd, unfair,

          limitless, unconditional love of God…

               How are we to make sense of this?

Well… I want to suggest a little academic stuff.

     If you look at the passages that contain

     threats of punishment…they have one thing in common…

          They look and sound just like all the other political and religious stuff in first

          century Palestine…

               There is nothing unusual about them.

                    But everything we know about Jesus says he was unusual…    

                    unusual to say the least!

                         Think of his being questioned by Pilate…and not answering

                         when he could save his life by simply pleading not guilty…

                              Pilate wanted to let him go!

Think of him voluntarily offering himself to be crucified…

     Trusting only in God even to death on the cross…

          Think of the radical, impractical parables

               Think of the radical, impractical love that Jesus recommends to us…

                    “Love your enemies”

                    “Bless those who persecute you”

                         This is not the stuff of reward and punishment.

In fact…it is so radical that we either cringe in guilt or…. ignore it…

     it is impossible to live that way we say…

          RIGHT!…

               That’s exactly what the people who first heard the Gospel thought…

                    “These Jesus people are crazy!”

And so very quickly…

     By 20 or 30 years after that first Easter…

          (By the way being resurrected from the dead was a pretty crazy idea too!) 

               Within 20 or 30 years…

                    The apostles decided to make the Gospel more understandable…

                         And started including reward and punishment in their preaching…

And so…50 or so years later, this carrot and stick theology had worked its way into the oral traditions of the Church…

     And from there into the theology that Paul learned in Syria…

          And into the Gospels.

All of which suggests that Jesus really was radical

     That Jesus’ understanding of God was radical

          because God’s love is not transactional.

               God’s love is not based on a deal…

                    If you do this, I’ll do that…

                        If you don’t…

                              I’ll throw you into Hell!

I am not suggesting that we throw out the transactional stuff in the Bible…

     The Old Testament is full of it…And there is plenty of it in the New Testament.

          The whole thing is the Church’s Book…

               And it is based on keen observation of life and human nature.

But what I am suggesting is that we recognize the tension in our Christianity…

     It is the tension between God and us…

          We are so limited that we cannot fathom the depth…or the height…

          of God’s love…

               We keep wanting to make it more practical…

                    More realistic…

                         We need the notion of justice.

                               But with God, justice

                               collapses into love…

We import punishment into Jesus’ message…to make it more “relevant”… to use a word I hate…

     It’s a pop marketing term…

          instead…we are called to embrace Jesus’ impracticality…

          his apparent craziness.

We are called to try to imagine a world where there is only love…

     A world where suffering and hatred and war are no more…

          An impossible, seemingly impractical world…

               Where fear is unnecessary…

                    A world that is God’s dream.

A world that we can never bring about…

     But a world that is promised to us in the life…

          The death…

               And the resurrection of Jesus.

God knows love cannot be coerced…

     We cannot be scared into really loving…

          The Prodigal’s father…like God…let the kid go…

          even though he knew the danger.

               He could have withheld the kid’s inheritance…his power to sin…

                     But he also knew that the boy’s love…if it was really love…

                         Had to be freely given…

                              Or else it was not love!

But what of us?…

     Us… Mired in our sin…our selfishness…our pride?…

          How do we dare love …

          How do we dare love “out of control?”

               We know that by ourselves…

                    We cannot!…

But then,

     Remember what Jesus said to the apostles when he spoke of sinners entering

     the Kingdom of God…

          He said:

               “With God…all things are possible”

                     And so it is and ever will be…

                         And so also it is for us!

                              Incredible as it is…

By the mysterious, silent grace of God…

     We can learn to forgive.

          We can dare to let ourselves love…

               And God waits on the porch of heaven

               for as long as it takes for us to come home…

                    For us to…love

                         Even now…God is waiting for us…

So even now…we can Rejoice…

     yes… Rejoice!…Even in our sinful world!

          For with God all things are possible!

               Even the Kingdom of Love “Alleluia!”

Proper 16C – George Yandell

When I was in seminary, Professor Charlie Price remarked in a theology class that he had been phoned by a 7^th Day Adventist pastor on a Saturday afternoon years before, as he was preparing his Sunday sermon. “Rev. Price,” the pastor asked him, “Why do you Episcopalians worship on Sunday? Don’t you know Saturday is the Sabbath Day?” Charlie said he stormed back at the pastor, “We worship on Sundays because it’s the Day of the Lord’s Resurrection!” and slammed down the phone. The pastor and Charlie were both right – Saturday is still the Sabbath, and we worship on Sundays because every Sunday celebrates Easter.

When I was a boy, blue laws were still in force throughout the south. Of course, blue laws were enforced on Sundays, not the Sabbath, Saturday. It meant that most of the distractions of shopping and working were stopped for a day, and our energies were focused around home or the community or the church. I miss the feeling and the results of the blue laws. I think the whole community ceasing the normal flow of work and business caused us to appreciate more the point of the other days of the week – that everything we did for those 6 days was to benefit the community and fellow citizens, not just ourselves.

Jesus taught in synagogues on the Sabbath. He performed 7 miraculous Sabbath miracles, as recounted in the gospels. Each time he healed on the Sabbath, Jesus restored the Sabbath to be a benefit for humankind against any distortions of human religious traditions. Jesus maintained that it was certainly lawful to do good on the Sabbath. It was God’s will since the beginning of creation that the Sabbath have the purpose of serving humankind, for resting and bringing blessing to all, including non-Jews. Jesus recalled for the worshippers of his day the true intent of the Sabbath, and the true intent of synagogue worship. The Sabbath activities of Jesus were neither hurtful provocations nor were they mere protests against rabbinic legal restrictions. His Sabbath teachings and healings are part of Jesus proclaiming God’s domain to be coming near. God manifests God’s healing and saving care of humanity in Jesus, in company with the people open to God’s actions. (Anchor Bible Dictionary.)

The Sabbath day is a temporary stay of inequality. It’s a day of rest for everyone alike, for animals and humans, for land-owners and indentured servants. The Sabbath opens us to how God sees the world. It is a regular stay against the activity that creates inequalities the other 6 days of the week. (John Dominic Crossan, The Birth of Christianity, p. 189) Everyone is to be at ease and at peace, reflecting on God’s work in the world.

Picture our Sunday worship. If a guest preacher gestured for one of us to stand up and some forward, then the preacher announced she would be healed of an 18-year debilitating illness, then laid hands on her and she was miraculously cured, and she started praising God and dancing for joy, how would we feel? Startled? Glad? Would any part of us think, “This is not normal, it’s not the Episcopal way, this is out of order?”

Years ago Lenny Bruce did a sketch “Christ and Moses”. Cardinal Spellman is preaching at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in NYC. Bp. Sheen interrupts him, whispering, “I think you ought to know, we have two very important visitors in the back. And no, before you ask, I haven’t been drinking: It’s Christ and Moses.” 

Cardinal Spellman asked, “What are they doing here?” Bishop Sheen said, “I don’t know, but don’t look now, there are lepers streaming through the front door.” Cardinal Spellman said, “Get the pope on the line… John this is Frank, we’ve got a small problem here – we’re up to our eyeballs in crutches and wheelchairs. These two guys are attracting crowds. Yeah, they’re in the back, and you know them. How do I know it’s them? Well, they look like their pictures. Well, one of them is a dead ringer for Charleston Heston, and the other one is Mary’s boy. Yeah, that Mary. Look, can we send them over to your place? They’re disrupting everything here, and man, they’re glowing.”

Our worship is not so different from synagogue on Sabbath day in the time of Jesus. What we forget, like the devout Jews in Judea forgot, is the real intent of gathering on the Lord’s Day. Listen to Isaiah: “If you offer food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness. The Lord will guide you continually. If you refrain from trampling the Sabbath, from pursuing your own interests on my holy day; if you call the Sabbath a delight and the holy day of the Lord honorable; if you honor it, not going your own ways, serving your own interests, or pursuing your own affairs; then you shall take delight in the Lord, and I will make you ride upon the heights of the earth.”

When the Bent woman was healed in the synagogue, I think she was as surprised as anyone else present. She represents you and me. I suspect we did not come here this morning to be healed, at least most of us. But that’s what God offers, healing of soul, healing of relationships, healing of everything that afflicts us.  That’s the intent of the Lord’s Day: resurrection now. We may be stuck a little in our conventional ways. We may get a little out of whack when the service has a new turn in it. 

But think of the Bent Woman, standing up straight for the first time in 18 years- that’s the freedom of healing power God intends us to enjoy, right here, right now. 

I’d like us to leave here today, like the crowd in the synagogue, rejoicing at all the wonderful, caring things God has done for us. It may seem impossible, especially if we’re grieving, or suffering from illness and pain. But we proclaim that Jesus is present, now. And the healing power he offers is ours to receive. Not just for our own distress, but healing of relationships, bringing the people of God together in wholeness, equality and justice. God means to heal this world through the work of Jesus and his church. The Sabbath and the Lord’s Day are the weekly tools of observance that bring us back to ourselves, back to the community of God, and give us healing power to share with everyone we meet in our daily places.  The lesson Jesus offered is timely now as it was then. Each time we gather for worship on the Lord’s Day, we’re to heed the spirit calling us to prophetic response and action. Not because it’s required, but because when another is healed, so are we. Maybe we’re the ones who are glowing in hope and power, along with Moses and Jesus.  

Proper 15c[RCL]: The Rev. Frank F. Wilson

Isaiah 5:1-7; Psalm 80:1-2;8-18; Heb 11:29-12:2; Luke12:49-56

Wind and Rain and Fire May Not Always Be The Enemy We Think

Teresa of Avila was a 16^th century nun, mystic, and social activist. It seems that while on a mission of mercy, the good nun came to a stream that had to be forged were she to make her destination. To wit, she sternly encouraged her reluctant donkey to enter the stream so as to cross it. About halfway across, the donkey either rebelled or was startled but for whatever reason bucked the good Sister Teresa right off its back headlong into the cold, running water. Breathless, and shivering, and flailing about as she was trying to right herself in the cold, running, waist deep water, sister Teresa looked up to heaven and yelled, “Do you ALWAYS treat your friends like this?!

Getting no answer from God, she made her way to the muddy bank, and as she was struggling to drag herself out of the stream and up the bank, she was overheard to mumble, “Well, no wonder you have so few of them.”

I confess to sometimes feeling something like that as I imagine you probably do as well.

Well, today we encounter texts that reveal a God, and reveal a Jesus, who is not always the God of peace; the God of comfort. Not always the God of ever present mercy. Today’s text reminds us that sometimes we feel like we serve a God who is fully capable of giving us a good dunking.

This morning, by way of our readings, we encounter a prophet – Isaiah; an anonymous poet and early Christian apologist. And we find Jesus himself, reminding that life — even the life of a Christian — is not life devoid of difficulty and struggle.

It’s as if we are being reminded that into every life a little rain must fall. But also, and at the same time, being reminded that the rain is not necessarily to be seen as a negative thing, for all living things need rain in order to gain strength, grow and to survive.

TV weather people amuse me. If they are predicting rain, they lament that, “Rain is coming. Get out the umbrellas.  Cancel your weekend plans. Not a good time to go to the beach. Might as well stay home,” they say.

On the other hand, if they are forecasting sunshine they tend to lament that it’s going to be unbearably hot, and woe to us for we surely need some rain.

TV meteorologist, it seems to me, regardless of their forecast, always seem to be in a state of some despair and urgency.

But the fact remains that into each life a little rain must fall. And the early Christian theologian who gave us the Book of Hebrews would seem intent on reminding that while keeping the faith can lead to pleasing and successful outcomes, it can also sometimes lead to less satisfying outcomes – outcomes that can lead to some stress, discomfort, or even conflict. His admonition is to keep the faith anyway.

Jesus uses the imagery of fire as a metaphor for an instrument of transformation and positive change: “I came to bring fire to the earth,” he says, “and how I wish it were already kindled.” 

This is an impatient Jesus that we encounter this morning: “I have a baptism with which to be baptized,” he says. “What stress I am under until it is completed!”

And then Jesus paints a very disturbing picture of what being his disciple can mean. It can even result, he says, in families who are not at peace with each other. Families divided. Parents against children and children against parents.

We live in a country which I’m pretty sure coined the phrase, “family values.”  The commitment to family is deeply important to us and a family that is cohesive and unified is much desired.  I imagine that this was at least, if not more, true for the people of ancient times as it is our own.

So, one might ask: Is Jesus promoting family strife? Of course this is not the intent of his words. But Jesus is saying that to follow him is to experience a kind of new growth. To follow him is to experience some growing pains. To follow him may lead to a place where one finds oneself in conflict with family, friends, and the world around them. To live like Jesus, to love like Jesus, to talk like Jesus can seem to be, and in fact can be, deemed counter-cultural and/or counter-intuitive. 

            One of the great fathers of the church was Ignatius of Antioch. Ignatius was a bishop in the early church who lived near the end of the first century and he is, in fact, a Christian martyr having died a cruel death in the Roman spectacle that was the lions den. And we are fortunate to know something of his life and it is a very fortunate thing that some of his writings survived him. Ignatius wrote the following. In fact, I have these words in a frame right over my desk so that I cannot but help occasionally glancing up at them as I write and prepare my sermons for any given Sunday. Ignatius wrote the following: (He said) the greatness of Christianity lies in its being hated by the world, not in its being convincing to it. The good bishop knew that Christ and the religion he spawned challenged the status quo and challenges the common world view so much so that those who embrace the teachings of Jesus may very well find themselves in conflict with those in power and authority; or with friends; or as we heard from him this morning – even members of one’s own family. In this matter, life is no different today than it was two thousand years ago.

In this very same Gospel we find Jesus saying that “No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.”[1]  And Jesus is saying in our Gospel this morning that one cannot serve God and simultaneously behave as if you do not know God. One cannot serve God and, at the same time, deal in the currency of the God-less.

Coming to Christ, cultivating a relationship and devotion with Christ involves change. One cannot develop, cannot attend to one’s own spiritual, moral, and ethical growth and not be open to change. 

As I wrote these words I was reminded of a time when I happened to have been on the faculty of Kennesaw College during a time of great change.  During a time of something like exponential growth. When I first joined the faculty there, it was so small and out of the way, you could hardly find the place. I was also there when we moved from being a Junior College to be being a four-year institution.  And I was there when we went from college to university status. During these periods of great transition, you could almost see the camps forming. There were those who embraced change and those who hated to see it coming – so much so that they insisted that nothing need to change. They would say that the college could just continue doing what it had always done, only do it, well…bigger.

And in such an environment it seemed that if one voiced an opinion that could be construed as supporting tradition, they were in danger of being labeled ‘non-progressive.’ On the other hand, if one seemed too eager for change, they might be labeled “reckless.” And so there was a kind of tension in the family.

But whether we speak of institutions or of individual souls, change is inevitable and not necessarily a bad thing This parish has and will continue to change over time and hopefully it will become the spiritual home to even more saints, but in doing so it will inevitably look and feel a little different over time. And as it grows the parish will, of necessity, change the way it does some things. But like the consequences of the refiners fire, we probably do good to embrace it rather than resist it because surely change that improves, and which produces more positive outcomes is a good thing and in terms of church life, is probably pleasing to God.  But change is never easy. We have to look no further than the current Lambeth Conference to see that maxim at play. If you have been paying attention you know that there was great tension at this most recent Lambeth Conference – mostly having to do with issues surrounding human sexuality. It was, and is, in large measure a theological debate between the church in the northern hemisphere vs. the church in the southern hemisphere. There was such disagreement; such tension, that a lot of the time and energy of the conference wound up being centered around how to remain civil with one another; how to stay in dialogue. How to just continue to get along with one another.

As I say this, I find myself recalling not too long ago that the Department of the Interior or whatever department it is that has jurisdiction over national forests – had quite a debate over whether or not every forest fire should be extinguished. There was one camp which said that the only good fire is an extinguished fire. But there was another camp which said, “No, let ’em burn. Forest fires are simply God’s way of rejuvenating the forest.” 

Well, not being terribly knowledgeable about such things, I’m comfortable leaving that debate with the policy makers, ecologist, foresters and the like.

But I do know that sometimes after the storm — sometimes after the painful experience, it is possible to look back and realize, especially it seems over time, that the effects of the storm were not necessarily all bad. In fact, as we look back we can often see new growth.  And whether it be a real forest or a metaphor for what was – very soon the new forest begins to emerge where the old forest was, but even more luscious than before.

I’m pretty sure that that’s pretty much all Jesus is trying to say to us this morning. You can’t be the new person in Christ without doing away with some of the old, decaying stuff. And as painful as it might be at the time to let go of some of the old stuff — whether it be a bad habit, a repetitive sin that keeps us off balance, a possession that blocks our view of the new thing God is calling us to, or maybe letting go of an old theology to make room for the new — as painful as it may be at the time, letting go of some of the old stuff is necessary if new growth is to be realized.

Where and when that is the case, it might be best to not lament the refining fire, but rather embrace it. And thank God for it.

***

And now I could very well put a period or an ‘Amen’ here thus concluding this sermon. But before I retire this sermon I want to very briefly re-visit Sister Teresa whom you may recall was just now making her way to high ground following her unexpected swim. And who, when we last heard from her, was grumbling at God. 

Now I don’t know if God gave her that dunking in that creek or not. If so, I have to believe that God had good reason and that there was some learning that the good sister was to gain from the experience. Your guess is as good as mine.

But it also occurs to me that there may be another explanation. Maybe God did not have a darn thing to do with that donkey tossing her into that cold stream. Maybe the good sister blames God unjustly for her misfortune. Maybe that donkey just picked that moment to send a message to Sister Teresa. And, if so, I might imagine God having a good laugh. And maybe there are by-standers on the bank who themselves are unable to completely stifle their chuckles at the site of a nun, clothed in veil and habit, soaking wet, climbing up a muddy bank all the while fussing at God. If that be the case, I do hope that she too might see the humor in her situation and find the freedom to join in the laughter for with God not only are all things possible, but all things fall within the wonderful divine drama we call life.

Amen.

[1] Luke 16:13

Proper 14, Year “C”: The Rev. Frank F. Wilson

Isaiah 11, 10-20; Psalm 50: 30:1-8, 23-24; Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16, Luke 12:32-40

Believing in Advance What Only Makes Sense in Reverse

I open this morning with a little lesson in African wildlife. In particular, I speak of the African impala. It is a type of antelope, and it is an amazing animal. An African impala can jump as high as ten feet and can leap forward as far as 30 feet or more. Yet, quite interestingly, zoo keepers have discovered that a solid wall no more than three feet high can serve as a secure enclosure for impala. This is because an impala just will not jump over an obstacle if they cannot see the ground on the other side – that is to say, cannot see where their feet will land.

In other words, an impala has no faith.

            Faith is a very little word. Only five little letters long. But it is a word of great significance in the lives of Christian people. After all, we sometimes even refer to ourselves as “a people of faith.”  Yet faith is a word very much misunderstood by those who stand outside of the community of faith. Faith is a word, a concept, that can be difficult even for those of us who claim it as something like the epicenter of our lived lives.

The writer of the Letter to the Hebrews has a lot to say about this matter of faith. He begins with something like a definition. He says that faith is “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” [repeat]  Now, I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but the author of this letter might have said: Faith is the conviction that a life lived in the presence and will of God is a life lived convinced that where God would have us go and who God would have us be is the better way. Patsy McGregor put it this way. Patsy says that faith is believing in advance what only makes sense in reverse. Faith is believing in advance what only makes sense in reverse. I know of no one, no couple, that has been more faithful in responding to God’s voice in terms of the calling on their lives than that of Todd and Patsy McGregor. You can read about their ministry in Patsy’s books (A Guest in God’s World and her latest book – Tamana: At Home in Africa.)

            I met Patsy and her husband Todd right here in this very church at a time when I was Jerry Zeller’s associate here at Holy Family. At the time they were serving as missionaries in Madagascar. But they had family in Big Canoe whom they would sometimes visit on very infrequent trips back to the states.

In her first book, A Guest in God’s World, Patsy tells of the trials, the joys, the challenges, the surprises, and yes, the occasional doubts that would rear its head during their time on the large and politically fragile island of Madagascar off the coast of Africa. But mostly hers is a book about faith. Mostly it is an account of faith in action. It is an account of a lived faith that meant believing in advance what only made sense in reverse.

And as I read her book, I was reminded that faith is much more than a mental ascent. It is more than an abstract concept. “Faith,” writes Patsy, “has wheels on.” 

I found the last chapter of Patsy’s book intriguing and not a little bit applicable to our subject this morning. She records that several months prior to their leaving Madagascar, she had a dream which she interpreted to be a sign from God that she and her family would be leaving Madagascar sooner than they had planned. It was time to do a different work in a different place. She was so confident that this was God speaking to her that she began to pack up the household. But time went by and no move seemed immanent.

She told her two young daughters of her conviction. Though they were saddened to think of leaving the only home they had really ever known, they too quickly embraced the idea that their mother’s vison was of God. However, few, if any others around her supported her vision.

She shared with her bishop, for example, that they might be leaving. The bishop quickly called Todd, her husband, imploring him actually, to “speak with his wife.” She was talking some nonsense, he said, about leaving.

            Todd also put little credence in his wife’s prophetic sense of a new calling in a new place. In fact, the weight of disbelief in her prophesy by those all around her was so great that even she began to have moments of doubt.

Yet, in the end, the validity of her vision was borne out as the political situation in Madagascar became so bad, that leaving became the only viable option. The U.S. government had long since advised all non-essential personnel to leave the island. The McGregors were among the last Americans to do so.

Yet, during all this time, Patsy had held to the conviction that she was correct in her view that she had heard from God. She says that she never seriously doubted her vision. As far as she was concerned, the only mystery was the timing. “For me,” she said, “my packed suitcase was my symbol of faith.”

The McGregors had gone to Madagascar – to them at the time, a strange land – not exactly sure what it was they were to do there. Eleven years later they left a Madagascar dotted with churches and medical clinics that Todd had founded and a seminary they helped to build. They would also leave behind many friends, yet knowing that they would make new friends, as they would enter into new work in a new place. The McGregors found a new ministry in Kenya, ultimately returned to Madagascar, and now live in Florida where she is a spiritual director and he a coach and mentor for others in the mission field.

Faith is the assurance of things hoped for; the conviction of things not seen. Thus, sayeth the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews. That writer goes on to explain himself pointing to the example of Abraham, the exemplar par excellence of faith, reminding that Abraham was he who trusted God though the path, nor even the reason he was called to go down a certain path, was not clear – not clear at all. Yet, Abraham left a comfortable home for a tent in the desert. Abraham left behind the familiar for the unfamiliar. He was one whose faith had wheels on. Abraham would become no less than the progenitor of the nation of Israel. God had told Abraham and confirmed through his son Isaac that their offspring would be as numerous as the stars in the sky and that through them the whole world would be blessed.[1] Yet, had not Abraham heeded the call by God to gather his family, pick up and move to a foreign land, for a reason that he did not yet know, no doubt we would not even know his name for God would have had to move on to another candidate. But Abraham did heed this call on his life and the rest, as we say, is history.

Finally, we find ourselves this morning worshipping and communing in this wonderful “cathedral in the woods,” the Episcopal Church of the Holy Family – the Holy Family, meaning, of course, Saint Mary, Saint Joseph, and, of course, Jesus. The reason we know Mary as Saint Mary is that she responded to God’s very special call on her life. Indeed, the angel Gabriel come to her with the message that by way of the Holy Spirit she would conceive and that the child in her womb would become known as the Son of God and of his kingdom there would be no end. And we know the rest of the story only because of Mary’s response: For in that moment, Mary said, here I am, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word. We have today the whole of the Christian story because of the faithfulness of Saint Mary. No wonder we are pleased to have named this church after her and her family.

Because of the likes of Abraham, and the likes of Mary and Joseph, and the likes of Todd and Patsy McGregor, and the likes of all throughout history who have heard God’s call on their lives – saints known and unknown; saints whose stories we know and saints whose stories will probably never be known – no doubt unfathomable good has been visited upon the earth. In other words, it would seem that when people of faith are faithful, not only they but the whole world is more balanced; is more as God would have it be – in other words is blessed. In other words, it would seem that lived lives that have God inspired wheels on are part of God’s action plan.

Well, we’ve spent some time this morning looking at the theology of faith. And we have done so through the eyes of prophets, saints, and missionaries. I end with a story that is told of another missionary whose mission field was, not unlike the McGregor’s, in Africa. At that particular moment in his life and work this particular missionary was focused on a certain native chief believing that if he could convert the chief, he would then be much more likely to convert the whole tribe. The chief was a very old man. And the theology of the missionary was very Old Testament. It leaned heavily on the “Thou Shalt Nots.”

Finally, after a long teaching and a Herculean effort on the part of the missionary at converting the chief, who was, remember, very old and somewhat frail, said, “I think I am beginning to understand. You say I am not to take my neighbor’s wife.”

“That’s exactly right,” said the missionary.

“And I’m not to take his ivory, or his oxen.”

“Oh no,” said the missionary.

“And I am not to dance the war dance and then ambush my enemy on the trail and kill him.”

“That’s absolutely right!” said the missionary.

With a kind of countenance of enlightenment, the old chief said to the missionary, “But I cannot do any of these things. I am too old. So, I see that to be old and to be Christian, they are same thing!”

Well, of course, the point of being Christian is not to be OLD, but to be BOLD in our relationship with God and our seeking to be in God’s will. For most of us that will not mean being called to foreign lands – though it might. For many of us that may not mean being called to places where we know not in advance the purpose – though it might.

            But it does mean that to live lives of faith, we are to be ever seeking to live into that for which we pray: That is to say, live into the prayer which asks not that my will might be done, but rather that ‘thy will be done.’

It is to live a life that means living into a faith that has wheels on, whatever that means between you and God.

And it means to live a life that God calls us to — even though sometimes the outcomes may not be certain. Conviction of things hoped for is not about certitude relative to outcomes. In fact, by definition, faith assumes an absence of certitude. Faith is rather the conviction that living in God’s will is the better way.  And it means knowing that sometimes a life of faith means believing in advance what only makes sense in reverse.

Amen.

8th Sunday After Pentecost – Ted Hackett

This morning I am going to do what I have done a couple of times before this year….

     I am not going to preach directly from today’s readings…

     but instead on a topic….

          But it is an urgent topic.

To get into it….we have to do a bit of history.

     Alexander the Great was born in Macedon in 356 BC. 

     He wanted to conquer the whole world and make it into one giant empire….

          And by the age of 30 he had just about done it!

               Alexander’s Empire included all the Mediterranean, Persia

               and stretched  to India. 

                    He didn’t bother with northern Europe…it was a barbarian wilderness.

     When Alexander died of battle wounds at age 32, the Empire was divvied up

     among his heirs. There was frequent in-fighting among them,

     but the Empire sort of hung together.

          300 years later, the powerful Roman Empire took it over….

               except for  Persia….which became Rome’s great enemy.

Now, since Alexander, the Empire had evolved into a truly Cosmopolitan creature.

     Cosmopolitan means, in Greek, World-City.

          Instead of a number of independent city-states, or countries, each

          with its own culture…there was to be one, great City…

               The whole Empire…

                    And everyone was supposed to belong to…and be loyal to…

                    that single Empire.

                         That Empire was inclusive.

                              Everyone who lived in it was supposed to be equal

                              under the law…though that never really worked.

One of the remarkable things about this “the world is one city” idea was that people could freely travel or live anywhere in the Empire they wanted.

     Kind of like the European Union now…No Passports necessary…

          And in many ways, this was a great   thing..

          Increased trade, education, less war……

               But it had its downside….

In the old days…before Alexander ….

     People were pretty much confined to their own countries.

          Everybody had different rules and laws…. But it was dangerous

          to move…these little countries were always in conflict,

               Often at war.

But….if you grew up in one place…. where your parents and grand parents grew up….

     You knew the local customs…

          You knew the local law…

               You knew and worshiped the local gods.

                    You probably knew lots of people.

 All of that meant….that you had a solid sense of who you were…

         where you belonged…

                  who your people were….

                            What your history was…

                                     In other words…

                                               You had…. and knew…. your

                                               IDENTITY!         

Now identity is a very important thing….

     It’s a matter of knowing…

          Basically of feeling….that you belong

          somewhere…

               Where your roots are…

                    Where you belong with others…

                         Who you are…

                              Your identity….

                                   Without it you are… really…nobody!

Socrates chose to kill himself rather than be exiled from Athens…he feared losing his identity.

     And by Jesus’ time, that’s how probably millions of people felt….

          Disoriented…

               Lost…

                    Alienated …without a people to belong to..

                         People with no identity….

Into this gap…stepped religion.

     For the first time in history, religion was

     optional….it wasn’t determined by birth.

          Local god’s that used to belong to this or that nation….

               Cabeiri from Samothrace, Isis from Egypt, and so forth…

                    became open to everyone….

And many people chose to be initiated into several cults…because the god’s often “specialized” in certain things…Mithras for instance specialized in military bravery and protection.

     And the government had no objection so long as these initiates could also be

     patriotically loyal to the Roman Gods….

          These cults…at least to some extent…

               Gave the members an identity…

To publically go in a big procession with fellow worshipers carrying a big statue of Isis…

     Was a public statement of                                 

          Who you belonged to….

               Who you belonged with…

                    What was your identity!

                         But… you were still a Roman.

Then….along came those Jesus-people….

     Now called “Christians”…

          And they had, like other religions, an impressive initiation.

To join the Christian cult…which is how people saw it….

     One had to contact a member…usually a dangerous thing to do…persecution you know.

     And why were there persecutions?

          You will see…but back to initiation…

After you secretly contacted a Christian….

     You were observed in your daily life to make 

     sure you were moral and honest…

          If you passed that test…you entered into a period of instruction…

          plus daily exorcisms….now you were a Catechumen.

               After another year or so…

                    For the first time…

                         You heard the Story of Jesus.

                              The Gospel.

Then…usually on Easter Eve…

     You underwent 3-day fast….then you were taken to a place where there was

     a pool with running water..

          There you were stripped naked…you were asked to absolutely

          renounce the Devil and all devilish things and promise to follow

          Christ alone.

               After that you were exorcized again, anointed with oil and

               led by a Deacon down a couple of steps into a bathtub-like pool….

                    You sat in the water in a foetal position…suggesting re-birth….

Then a priest looked you in the eye and asked: “Do you believe in the God the Father?”

     Yes!..And he pushed you under for a while.

     Hauls you up.. “Do you believe in God the Son?” Yes…and pushes you

     under for long enough to impress you….Hauls you up: Do you believe in

     God the Holy Spirit? Yes…and down under again.

          Then you are led up and anointed with oil again…oil of Chrism as if

          you were being installed as a King…

               And then vested in a long white garment like we wear up here

               on the altar…only the aristocracy wore long albs…common folk

               wore short ones.

You are now escorted to the Bishop who is sitting either in an alcove or across the street in the Church or a “safe-house.”

     You kneel before him….he is the head of your new family….

          And he lays his hands on your head…

               He “claims” you as a member of Christ’s Body, the Church….

                    The Household of God

                         This is important….

In a Roman household, when a child was born it was taken to the patriarch of the house and he did one of two things …

     He crossed his arms and looked away, or laid hands on the initiate and

     certified that he or she was part of the Familia. 

          If he did not accept the baby, it was put up for adoption or taken out and

          exposed to die.

               So by the Bishop laying hands on your head, you are claimed by God

               as part of God’s Familia.

                    Then the Bishop anoints you again…. designating you as

                    an eternally “special”member of this family.

              Now you are a Christian.

                   This liturgy is impressive…

                        But why so much?

                                                         And why so long?

Because now…being a Christian….

     Your identity has changed…

          Where you belong has changed…

               You are no longer a citizen of the Roman Kingdom….

                    You are now a citizen of the Kingdom of God…

                         You are a fellow heir with Christ in the glory of a new creation.

                              That is who you ARE!

From now on, there is for you only One Lord…

     Any other Lord in your life is an idol…

          Whatever or whoever comes first….

               Whatever or whoever has authority

               in your life to command you to do anything that is not

               in keeping with Christ….

                    That is idolatry…

                         Whatever besides Christ that you trust completely,

                         that commands your loyalty….

                              is an Idol….

                                   Whatever thing….

                                        If money, Power or prestige commands your loyalty ahead of love…

                                             For love is the ruling force of Christ’s Kingdom,

Whatever commands you to hate, or hold someone in contempt, or cheat….or get Christianity mixed up with an ideology like so called “Christian Nationalism”, or any of the other works of the Devil…                                                                             

     That is asking you to sin…     and calls for repentance and forgiveness…

          Repentance and forgiveness…

               Because when we worship an Idol…

                    We make of that person or thing..

                         A false God…

And because our identity is belonging to Christ by Baptism …

     Because Christian is who we really ARE….

          When we make false gods to worship,

               We are betraying ourselves.

                    Looking for an identity….

                         We are ignoring our real identity

                              We are missing what our identity can make of our lives…             

                                   Make them real and honest… 

Being a Christian…

     Having Christ as our God…

          Means we find our identity in Love and in Forgiveness….

               Christ has made us who we are…

                    And there is no identity greater….

                         There is none other that can really satisfy our deepest longings. 

                              Because we belong to Jesus

                                   Because that is our….         Identity!….

                                        And will be for all

                                        Eternity…                     Thanks be to God!