Homily – Acts 2.1-21, Pentecost, YB, May 20, 2018

Tags

baptism, baptismal covenant, cacophony, chaos, church, community, God, Jesus, languages, love, Pentecost, Sermon

Photo credit:  John Rothnie (permission to reuse required)

I have been looking forward to this baptism for months.  Olive is one of four babies born at Hickory Neck within a month of each other, and one of five within a five-month period.  Not only did I enjoy watching Olive grow in her mom’s belly, I knew how fun welcoming her to the community would be, and especially how special her baptism would be.  So when the Bauer Family finally settled on Pentecost, I was thrilled – baptizing a baby on feast day adds excitement to an already festive day.

But as the liturgy planning staff met about a month ago, I realized we may have made a huge mistake.  We were talking about the needs for today, and remembered we needed to recruit all our foreign language speakers because Pentecost is the one feast of the year where we really try to simulate the experience of the historically significant day in the life of the faith.  And as we were talking about rotas, translations, and participants, a sudden sense of dread hit me.  “Um, Charlie?” I said.  “Are you sure you want to baptize Olive on Pentecost?  I mean, I love Pentecost, but, especially for strangers to our community, Pentecost is a little weird.  Do you want us to just skip the whole languages part?”  To his credit, Charlie didn’t hesitate.  “What better day to baptize?!?” he said, as though my question were silly.

I have been encouraged by Charlie’s enthusiasm, but the more I thought about his response, the more I questioned his logic.  Don’t get me wrong – I love what we do at Pentecost.  Pentecost is one of the few days of the liturgical year that our scripture really comes to life.  Hearing the cacophony of languages helps you to really imagine yourself there.  But this is the kind of service that I would also say to first-time visitor, “Just so you know, we don’t always do this!”  Because, although I love the cacophony, I wouldn’t want anyone to think today is the norm – that we always break into tongues in the service or that we always like to shock your senses.  Surely if we were going to baptize Olive, we should find a tamer way to welcome her to the community, and not freak out her family and friends from all the ends of the country.

We do this all the time with Church.  If we get the nerve up to ask a friend to Church, and they take us up on the offer, we want them to experience the best of Hickory Neck:  a welcoming environment, beautiful liturgy, a sense of belonging, and a deep connection to the immanent and transcendent God.  But just like when you introduce a new romantic interest to your family, you don’t have them meet everyone in the family at the beginning.  You save crazy Uncle Joe until at least the second or third Christmas, when you know your boy or girlfriend is already in love with you enough to make allowances for the crazy in your family.  The same is true for church – we would much rather you see the beauty of Hickory Neck on a regular Sunday or even on a day like Easter.  There is no need for us to show you some of the really weird parts of our faith, like Pentecost, until you have at least been here for a while.

So why was Charlie so enthusiastic about bringing his extended family to celebrate baptism on this one, crazy, bizarre day in the life of the church?  Was he not thinking this through?  Or was he secretly hoping to ensure his family never comes back?  I started working through why this might be the perfect day for a baptism, thinking through what we learn about the church and membership within.  First, we learn the power of the gospel, of the good news of God in Christ, to reach all peoples, no matter who they are.  Although practically speaking, today’s multilingual reading sounds jarring, what we know about this piece of scripture is that despite the din of noise, everyone heard the good news in their own language.  The gospel is not limited to one group of people or to one tribe or nation; the gospel speak truth to all.  Second, we learn that Jesus’ story is not just for us – Jesus’ story is for all.  Up until this point in our story, Jesus has been keeping his resurrection and ascension to a limited group of people.  But today, that norm implodes.  Jesus’ story is no longer for those nearest and dearest to Jesus – Jesus’ story is for everyone.  Third, we are reminded of our commission from Jesus – to go out into all the world, sharing the good news of God in Christ.  Not just the English-speaking places, not just the places where people look and act like us, not just the places that make us comfortable.  And finally, Pentecost affirms the ways in which God loves us, no matter what.  No matter how loud, crazy, or chaotic our lives become, God is with us, breaking through the din of noise we create and making that noise holy.

Perhaps instead of finding the most proper, polished day to baptize a child of God, today may be the perfect day to teach us all what the life of faith is about.  We all know that when our romantic interest or dear friend finally meets Crazy Uncle Joe, or finally sees us when we are sick or not looking our best, or finally realizes we have some pretty awful flaws, and LOVES US ANYWAY – those are the people we want to keep around.  The same is true for those new to the church or those being initiated into the community of faith – we want you to see us on our craziest days so that you know, no matter what God loves you anyway.  God sees your craziness, your chaos, those parts of yourself that you hide from others, and God not only loves you, God commissions you and makes a way you share that love to the ends of the earth.

That is what we affirm today in our baptismal covenant.  Given the promise of unconditional love from God, we promise in return to live a life in accordance with that unconditional love.  To seek and serve all persons, to strive for justice, to respect the dignity of every human being, to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ, to resist evil and repent, and to keep coming back to the community, breaking bread and joining in the prayers.  The chaos of today, the beauty of baptism today, the reminder of God’s love today are all meant to build us up so that we can get back out into the world.  What better day than today to baptize?!?  Amen.

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On Being Called by Name…

Tags

affirmed, baptism, call, church, Episcopal, God, identity, known, loved, name, nickname, pastor, priest, relatedness, role, tension

Photo credit:  blog.sweetcareersconsulting.com/2015/10/what-name-should-you-use-on-linkedin.html

In my line of work, my female colleagues are widely divided on what we should be called.  You see, for years in the Episcopal Church, the male priests were “Father so-and-so.”  In formal writing, it was “the Rev. so-and-so.”  But in the Episcopal Church, priests are not called “Rev. so-and-so” because the word reverend is an adjective, not a noun, and most Episcopalians cannot stand by grammatical errors.  Episcopalians also do not often use “Pastor so-and-so,” as it is considered too protestant.  So, that leaves Episcopalians in a bit of mess with titles for female priests.  Many have taken to calling women “Mother so-and-so,” to create a sense of parity between male and female priests.  But some women despise that address.  And so, female priests tend to be all over the map about what they prefer – from no title at all (simply using their name given at baptism) to Mother, to Reverend (conceding to the grammatical error for the sake of convenience), to Pastor.

So, when I was asked at my local yoga studio what I was called professionally, I had to chuckle.  I told them when I use a title, I prefer Mother Jennifer.  But that I answer to almost anything – Mother Jennifer, Rev. Jen, Pastor Jennifer, or just Jennifer.  But this past week, I added some new favorites.  A toddler in our parish was watching on online broadcast from church.  When her dad asked, “Do you know who that is?” she replied, “That’s Mama Church.”  Just last week, as our ecumenical brothers and sisters helped us host a winter shelter for the homeless in our community, a Roman Catholic volunteer was talking to my husband.  When she realized who he was she said, “Oh, your wife is that little spitfire thing!”

The funny thing is that despite our baptized names, I think we are all living into identities throughout life.  Sometimes we will only be known as our child’s parent – “Simone’s Mom.”  Sometimes we are known by our profession title – Doctor Smith, Nurse Johnson, Professor Green, Colonel Davis.  Sometimes we take on a funny nickname from a particular stage of life – I’ll let your memories recall a few of your own.  What we are called creates meaning, purpose, and identity throughout life.  And sometimes we have nicknames that we do not even know about – whether it’s “spitfire” or something else.

One of the things I love about church is that we work hard to know each other’s names:  sometimes the ones we are baptized with, but sometimes the funny, the serious, and the beloved names.  Those names can make us feel known, loved, and affirmed.  But mostly those names in church remind us that we are known by name by someone else:  our God.  I like to think God is able to hold all our names in tension:  the funny, yet embarrassing ones; the honorific ones; the ones that remind us of our call; the ones that reveal our relatedness.  God knows us better than any one name can contain, and yet I imagine loves every little nuance of our names.  I wonder what names in your life could stand to be let go, and which names invite you to be someone powerful and life-changing.

Homily – Matthew 17.1-9, LEP, YA, February 26, 2017

Tags

baptism, baptismal covenant, clarity, faith, homily, identity, Jesus, journey, promises, Transfiguration, transformation

Today we celebrate two major events – the Transfiguration of Jesus and the baptism of Levi and Owen at our 9:00 am service.  I have been thinking all week about what a strange, and quite frankly, difficult combination those two events are.  For well over a month, I have been looking forward to being able to tell a child-friendly story about Jesus and baptism – until I realized we were hearing about the Transfiguration.  The Transfiguration is one of those major ah-ha moments in Jesus’ story.  Jesus had been trying to communicate his identity even before he could communicate – first with his miracle birth and the multiple witnesses to his birth.  Later, at his baptism, the voice from Heaven says, “This is my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”[i]  Even six days before the story we hear today, Peter proclaims that Jesus is the Messiah – but then he quickly gets confused, and Jesus is telling him, “Get behind me Satan”[ii]  So, to help everyone avoid confusion about Jesus’ identity, Jesus, Peter, James, and John go up a mountain and everything becomes crystal clear.

Except, nothing about the Transfiguration is crystal clear.  Why is Jesus all of a sudden dazzling white?  Why are Moses and Elijah there?  Why is Peter babbling about making three dwelling places?  Why are the disciples terrified?  And what in the world does this have to do with baptism?  Of course, there are answers to each of those questions – what we know happens when people encounter God directly, how Moses and Elijah’s presence signify the completion of the Law and the Prophets in Jesus[iii], how dwelling places are a reference to the feast of Tabernacles[iv], and how theophanies are always terrifying.  But the last question – what the Transfiguration has to do with baptism – is the one that has been intriguing me this week.

The more I thought about the Transfiguration, the more I was grateful that Levi and Owen will have this lesson to remember their baptism.  You see, today, their parents and godparents make some promises on their behalf.  They promise to raise these two boys up in the life of faith.  Now that promise may sound simple – years from now, Levi and Owen’s godparents may be calling to say, “Have you been to church lately?”  But the promise is not that simple.  The promise is about not just bringing them to Church, but helping them engage in their faith life.  At first, engaging in their faith life will mean asking about what happened in Sunday School, or talking about something in the church service.  But as they get older, their promise will mean answering fun questions like, “Why was Jesus so shiny, and why were his clothes sparkling?”  As the boys mature, their promise will mean being role models for living a godly life – and talking about how hard that really is, how much we fail at it, and how we keep repenting and returning to the Lord.  Their promise means being willing to go to hard, vulnerable places and encouraging the boys to listen for God’s voice.

So what does the Transfiguration have to do with those promises?  I like that we get this particular lesson because this lesson is a bit of a metaphor for all of our spiritual journeys.  Throughout our spiritual journey we all have mountaintop experiences.  We have these amazing moments of clarity, of wonder, of mystery, of profound insight, and of transformation.  Those moments help define who and whose we are and how we are going to live our lives.  But just like the disciples, we also find ourselves at times, confused and certainly full of fear on that journey.  To the disciples, Jesus places his hand on them and says, “Get up and do not be afraid.”  We are given those gifts too – sometimes the power of God is so close that the power feels like a hand on us; but most times, the hand is from another pilgrim on the faith journey, encouraging us to get up and telling us not to be afraid.[v]  In many ways, our baptism is our great moment of clarity.  Our baptism is so important and so defining that every time we witness a baptism, the Church invites all of us to reaffirm our baptismal covenant – to remember that profound moment and to recommit ourselves to bringing our lives in line with the vows we took – or someone took on our behalf.

In that way, I am deeply grateful that we get this wonderful story of transformation today.  As we remember this moment of clarity, confusion, companionship, and grace, we engage in another story of transformation – the story of Levi and Owen’s transformation into full members in the body of Christ.  Today, their parents, godparents, and each one of us commit ourselves to being agents of transformation in Levi and Owen’s lives, reminding them who and whose they are as we remind ourselves of who and whose we are.  In that way, Levi and Owen give us a gift too – they gift us with the reminder of our own transformation, and encourage us to renew our faith journey.  And if we especially need it today, they too place their small hands on our shoulders and say to us, “Get up and do not be afraid.”  Because God has work for us to do!  Amen.

[i] Mt. 3.17

[ii] Mt. 16.23

[iii] Robert A. Bryant, “Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 1 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 455.

[iv] Bryant, 457.

[v] Patrick J. Willson, “Homiletical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 1 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 457.

On Big Changes…

Tags

baptism, being, celebrate, change, church, Holy Spirit, identity, nature, ontological change, ordination

The Reverands Jody Burnett, Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly, and Charles Fischer III, Cathedral Church of St. John, June 24, 2009

Later this month I will celebrate the seven-year anniversary of my ordination.  What most people remember about that day was that I was very pregnant.  I confess that my large belly in an alb and a stole were rather extraordinary.  But what I remember about that day was a brief, but profound encounter.  I had gotten to the Cathedral early to make sure everything was in place and everyone knew where to go.  I was bustling around, managing logistics, when I ran into my boss, who was the rector of the church where I was serving.  She saw that I had my clergy shirt on but that I had not yet put on my collar.  You see, although you are not technically ordained until midway through the liturgy, you put your collar on before the liturgy starts.  The idea seemed strange to me to put it on before the bishop laid hands on me.  And if I am really being honest, I was really nervous about the whole endeavor.  My rector put her hands on my shoulders, looked me square in the eye, and said, “Jennifer, it’s time.  Go put on your collar.”

When we talk about ordination, we talk about the newly ordained experiencing an ontological change – a change in who the person is and in the nature of her existence.  It sounds rather dramatic because the change is dramatic.  When we ordain someone, we forever set them apart for a specific role in the church.

This Saturday, we will join our new curate, Charlie Bauer, as he is ordained to the transitional diaconate.  Charlie will be facing a similar ontological change – committing the rest of his life to this new way of being in and for the church.  Ordained persons do not simply start a new job.  Their whole person and existence is changed.  That is why an ordination is so special – because it is a day set apart for honoring this tremendous change.

Of course, all people in the church have access to ontological change.  Both baptism and confirmation are considered similar ontological changes – something profound happens in those moments, moments that only happen once in a lifetime.  We are marked as something different, and the way that we live our lives changes forever.  Because that change for all of us is so profound, the church sets apart days that we reaffirm our baptismal covenant and ordination vows.  We want to remember those tremendous moments when we put on a collar or stole, when water was poured over our heads, when a bishop placed heavy hands on our heads, and when we felt the Holy Spirit whisk through the room.  I hope you will join us as we celebrate this ontological change with Charlie.  But I especially hope you will take a moment to remember your own change and how the Spirit invites you to reclaim your changed identity.

 

 

 

Sermon – John 13.31-35, E5, YC, April 24, 2016

Tags

baptism, child, Christian, command, covenant, God, hard, identity, Jesus, live, love, neighbor, parent, Sermon, simple, speech, work

A few years ago, some friends of mine engaged in the elevator speech challenge.  The idea was simple.  If you were stuck in an elevator with someone for thirty seconds and were asked to tell them about your faith, what would you say?  The challenge was to explain to someone your faith in Jesus Christ in thirty seconds or less.  I remember when my friends started sharing their elevator speeches, I was totally intimidated.  First, I knew that if someone actually asked me to do this in an elevator, I would probably stutter through some answer, mostly filled with “ums” and “you knows,” and not much of substance.  But more importantly, even when I tried to sit down and give myself way more than thirty seconds to formulate my thirty-second speech, I could not do it.  I could not figure out how to distill everything that had happened to me in my faith journey, why I still believe and am so devoted to church, and who I believe the three persons of the Godhead to be.

The last night in the upper room that we hear about in our gospel lesson today is a little like Jesus’ elevator speech.  Although the disciples did not fully grasp the importance of that night, Jesus certainly did.  If you remember, back on Maundy Thursday, we joined Jesus and the disciples on this night.  Jesus tells the disciples many things.  He teaches them about the importance of servitude as he washes their feet.  He teaches them how to celebrate the Lord’s Supper.  But when Judas leaves at the beginning of our reading today, Jesus knows he is out of time.  The end is coming and he desperately wants to leave the disciples with a few words of wisdom.  Knowing his time is up, Jesus does not tell anymore parables or give them any convoluted metaphors.  He keeps his words simple and direct.[i]  “Love one another,” he tells them.  “Love one another as I have loved you.”  That is all he gives them.

His words are simple, perfect, and beautiful.  I am sure those words were in many of the elevator speeches I read.  God is love.  Our call is to love as Jesus loved us.  That is how others will know us to be Christians – through our love.  The problem is this:  though “love one another” sounds simple, perfect, and beautiful, loving one another is really hard work.  Think about that one family member who is so difficult – the sibling who always tries to start a fight, the family member who always has some story about why they need to borrow money from you, or that aunt who is just plain mean.  Jesus says we must love them.  Or think about that classmate who started a nasty rumor about you, the coworker who took credit for your idea, or that friend who shared your confidence with someone else.  Jesus says we must love them too.  Or think about that political candidate that you cannot stand, that religious leader who constantly says offensive things, or that homeless person you tried to help who was completely ungrateful.  Jesus says we must love them too.  Jesus words, “Love one another,” are simple, perfect, and beautiful.  But Jesus’ words are also hard, frustrating, and sometimes seemingly impossible.  Loving one another is at times the most wonderful, rewarding thing we do in this life, and at times is one of the most challenging, difficult things we do in this life.  But we love because that is what Jesus taught us to do.

Today we will baptize a child into the family of God.  Baptism is our sacred initiation rite.  During any initiation rite, we normally summarize what is most important to us so that the newly initiated person knows what we expect from her.  In this case, the parents and Godparents will be reminded of our ultimate priorities so that they can teach her in the years to come.  Most of those promises and priorities come in the baptismal covenant.  We ask five questions:  Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of the bread, and in the prayers?  Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?  Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?  Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?  Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?   The questions are big questions – the guiding principles of our faith.  But most of the questions boil down to that night in the upper room:  love one another.

As we think about baptizing Elaina today, and teaching her to love, some of us may feel overwhelmed.  We know how hard loving is.  Elaina will even teach her parents and godparents how difficult loving is:  when she learns and uses the word “no!”, when she throws her first epic temper tantrum, or when she first utters those dreaded words, “I hate you!”  But Elaina will also teach the parents and godparents how wonderful love is:  when she first calls you by name, when you first see her helping someone or tenderly comforting a crying friend, or when she finally learns those wonderful words, “I love you!”  Everyday her parents and godparents will have the chance to teach her about what her baptism means by showing her how to love.  They may not have a patented elevator speech, but Elaina will understand what her Christians identity means when she sees what “love one another” really means.

But today is not just about Elaina, her parents, and her godparents.  Today is for all of us.  Today is a day when we too can take stock of how well we are living into our own identity as baptized children of God.  Every day we can take a moment to remember where we have failed to show love and where we have excelled in showing love.[ii]  The moments will be small and sometimes seemingly inconsequential.  But all those tiny moments add up to a lifetime of loving one another.  And today we will promise to, with God’s help, keep trying to be a people who love another.  Loving one another may not be a fancy elevator speech.  But loving one another might be much more powerful in the long run than any fancy words we can assemble – because Jesus’ commandment today is not so much about what we believe, but about how we live.[iii]  Jesus did not tell us to love one another because he knew loving one another would be easy.  But Jesus did tell us to love one another because he knows that we can.  He has seen each one of us do that simple, perfect, and beautiful act.  Today, he invites us to keep up the good work.  Amen.

[i] Gary D. Jones, “Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 468, 470.

[ii] David Lose, “On Loving – and Not Loving – One Another,” April 21, 2013, as found at https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=2542 on April 20, 2016.

[iii] Jones, 470.

Sermon – 1 Kings 2.10-12; 3.3-14, P15, YB, August 16, 2015

Tags

bad, baptism, baptismal covenant, God, good, journey, king, love, Sermon, shrewd, Solomon, wisdom, wise

Let me tell you a story that a friend of mine once told me.  Once upon a time, there was a wise prince.  Following his father’s death, the prince became king, married a beautiful princess from a neighboring kingdom, and began to rule his people in a way that honored God.  One night, God came to the king in a dream, and told him he could have anything he wanted.  Being a humble man, the king did not ask for money, power, or a long life.  Instead, the king asked God to make him wise so that he could care for the people.  God was very pleased by this request, and God decided to grant the king wisdom.  And, as a reward for being so humble, God said the king could have wealth, honor, and long life too!  The king became known all over the land as a wise king.  People traveled far and wide to hear the king’s wisdom.  The king’s kingdom flourished, his rule becoming a Golden Age for the kingdom.  After forty years of peaceful success, the king handed over his throne to his son.[i]

The king in that story is a real king:  King Solomon from our Old Testament reading today.  As we baptize Kayla today, we wish the same things for her that King Solomon has.  We pray that she might be wise in her decisions, that she might have a close relationship with God, and that she might honor others.  And to help her become those things, we as a community pledge to support her, and we promise to try to do those things too.  On this special day, we look to the future with hope and optimism, praying that God will make Kayla as wise as Solomon.

But, we have to be careful.  You see, once upon a time there was also a shrewd prince.  When the prince’s father died, the prince ordered that his older brother be killed so that he could become king instead.  As he began his rule as king, he killed many more people out of revenge for the way they treated his father.  Then he set out to build a kingdom of riches, power, and honor.  But this king was greedy.  He wanted so many things that he made the people suffer.  He made the people pay taxes, and forced them to build lavish homes and temples.  He collected 700 wives and 300 concubines.  Many of the women worshiped foreign gods, and so the king started to worship those gods too.  He was not loyal to the God we know.  By the time he died, the people were very angry, and they revolted when the king’s son tried to take over.  A big war broke out, the kingdom divided in two, and the world fell into chaos.[ii]

Here’s the funny thing about the bad king.  That bad king is Solomon too.  Isn’t that weird?  We often remember all the good stuff about Solomon – and there is a lot of good stuff.  But there is a lot of bad stuff about Solomon too.[iii]  In fact, we skipped that part in our reading in church today.[iv]   The same king who humbly asks for wisdom is the same king who gets greedy when good things happen to him.  The same king who wisely rules the land also forgets about loving the people he is ruling.

When we think about Kayla’s journey with God in the years to come, we want her to be like wise Solomon.  But the truth is Kayla, and the all the rest of us, are probably a mix of wise Solomon and naughty Solomon.  We are a mix of both because we all learn that we can never be perfect.  But the good news is that God loves us anyway.  When we baptize Kayla today, and we renew our baptismal covenant, we recognize that truth.  We pray that we all will be wise, and kind, and blessed.  And we recognize that we will have to work really hard to not be greedy, unkind, and separated from God.  But we also promise that we will take care of each other on the journey, helping each one of us find our way back to being good servants of God.

So how about we find another way to tell Solomon’s story?  “Once upon a time there was a king.  He had big dreams, as most of us do.  He had great faults, as most of us do.  He lived a life marked by success and failure, nobility and disgrace.  He loved God and he didn’t.  He pleased God and he didn’t.  He left a legacy that was neither perfect nor wretched, as most of us will.  But he was loved by God throughout, even when his foolish wisdom shattered God’s heart.  As we are.”[v]  Amen.

[i] Debie Thomas, “A King’s Tale,” Journey with Jesus, August 9, 2015, as found at http://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/324-a-king-s-tale on August 12, 2015.

[ii] Thomas.

[iii] Cameron B.R. Howard, “Commentary on 1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14,” August 19, 2012, as found at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1358 on August 12, 2015.

[iv] Andrew Nagy-Benson, “Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Supplemental Essays Yr. B, Batch 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2012), 2.

[v] Thomas

On Being the Church…

Tags

baptism, church, decline, Episcopal, growth, Jesus, responsibility

Over the course of the last year, I have read countless articles about the state of our struggling Church.  The struggle is not just an Episcopal one, but is common across most denominations.  There are all sorts of theories about why it is happening and who or what is to blame.  I myself have pondered these theories in my heart, as I wonder what ministry will look like twenty years from now.  But in all the finger-pointing and discussion about what is causing our attrition, I stumbled on this prayer last week in a blog entry by David Lose:

L: Let us pray together.
C: Your church is composed of people like me.
I help make it what it is.
It will be friendly, if I am.
Its pews will be filled, if I help fill them.
It will do great work, if I work.
It will make generous gifts to many causes, if I am a generous giver.
It will bring other people into its worship and fellowship, if I invite and bring them.
It will be a church where people grow in faith and serve you, if I am open to such growth and service.
Therefore, with your help Lord, we shall dedicate ourselves to the task of being all the things you want your church to be.  Amen.[i]

What I loved about this prayer is that it took the argument about church decline and made it personal.  No longer was the issue one that “the Church” was facing, but one that I am personally facing.  There is no mysterious formula that will solve this problem.  The issue is me – about how I make the Church the place the Church is meant to be – the place God longs for her to be.  I cannot count on people simply having an inspired desire to come to Church.  I need to share my story.  I need to get my hands dirty being Church.  I need to stop hiding my love of Jesus and start living as one who is loved by that same Jesus.

Photo credit: http://www.cfi-hq.org/2015/04/

Our church just had two baptism Sundays in a row.  In those services we made some tremendous promises – to seek and serve Christ, to share the good news, to strive for justice and peace, and to be present in the life and work of the church.  That all sounds like a lot of work.  But the truth is that the work is not onerous when done in community.  The work is not onerous when we look into the eyes of infants and confidently welcome them into the community of faith.  The work is not onerous when it gives us great joy.  Over the next few weeks, I invite you to pray this prayer everyday.  Pay attention to whether its words create some shifting in you.  Linger in the parts that seem the most uncomfortable.  And then keep inviting the Spirit of the Living God to fall afresh on you.

[i] The prayer was not written by David Lose, but one he stumbled upon in a church in Wisconsin.  The full citation can be found at https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=1620.

Sermon – Mark 6.1-13, P9, YB, July 5, 2015

Tags

baptism, Christian, covenant, disciples, faith, identity, Jesus, liturgy, protection, purpose, seek, Sermon, serve, share, vulnerability

A few weeks ago, as we were planning liturgies, we were discussing the fact that we had two baptisms in a row – last Sunday and today.  A few people in the group kind of groaned, “Two in a row?!?”  I laughed at the time.  But the more I thought about their exasperation, the more I wondered why they were exasperated.  Certainly baptisms can take longer.  Between the blessing of the water, the renewal of vows, and the baptism itself, the service is a bit longer.  And perhaps to groan came out of a place of wanting to spread out the requency of special services – much like one rations out Halloween candy instead of eating it all at once.  But the more I thought about having two baptisms in a row, the more I liked the idea; in fact, the more I thought about the baptismal liturgy, I began to wish we had one every Sunday.

Now before you all issue a collective groan of exasperation, let me explain.  You see, the baptismal liturgy is one of those foundational liturgies.  In baptism, we ritually welcome someone into the family of faith.  But the baptismal liturgy is about more than the cute baby (though Rose is very cute, I admit!).  The baptismal liturgy is the time when we declare who we are, how we are to live, and how we will accomplish that ideal.  In this liturgy, we retell the story of our history – how God moved over the waters in creation, how God split the waters to free the enslaved people of Israel, and how God used the waters of baptism to mark a new way through Jesus’ own baptism.  In this liturgy, we also talk about our nature – how we are prone to sin, how we (despite the fact that we are saved by the waters of baptism) are on a continual journey of repenting and returning to the Lord, and how we need each other if we are ever to keep turning toward God.  In this liturgy, we also declare the radical way that we will live our lives in Christ – what being a Christian actually means.  Being a Christian means regularly gathering to learn together, to pray together, to eat at the Holy Table together, and to join in fellowship together.  Being a Christian means sharing the good news with others – not just by example, but by our words too.  Being  a Christian means seeking and serving Christ in others, loving our neighbor, striving for justice and peace, and respecting the dignity of others.  I don’t know about you, but regular worship, regular evangelism, and regular mission sounds like a lot of work!  And yet, here we are (for the second week in a row!) proclaiming that we will do these things.

So if today is all about defining who we are and who we are going to shape little Rose into being, what might be the best way for us to prepare her for her new life in Christ?  Some of us might imagine the story we heard a few weeks ago about David and Goliath.  If you remember, David was just a boy who agreed to take on the enormous Goliath, that everyone feared.  When King Saul agrees to let David fight Goliath, he first wants to suit up David.  Saul clothes David with Saul’s armor; he puts a bronze helmet on David’s head and clothes him with a coat of mail.  By the time Saul puts his sword over the armor, David cannot even walk!  David realizes the protection weighs him down.  So he removes the armor and weapon and instead takes only a staff, five smooth stones in his shepherd’s bag, and his sling.  Goliath (and if we are honest, probably everyone else gathered, including the people of God) laughs at David’s puny preparation.  The funny thing is that in our gospel lesson today, Jesus does the same thing for the disciples when he commissions them to go out in the world.  Jesus tells them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; they get a staff, one pair of sandals, and one tunic.

When we think about preparing ourselves for the life of faith – of going out into the world to seek Christ, serve Christ, and share Christ – most of us think about preparing the way that Saul prepares David.  We want some armor for all those times that we are rejected when we share our faith; we want a sword in case we run into trouble while seeking Christ; we want some heavy mail so that when we serve others, nothing or no one gets too close[i]  But instead, Jesus sends out the disciples with a staff to steady their walking as they share the good news, a pair of sandals and one tunic so that they can humbly encounter others as they serve Christ, and empty hands and bellies so that they can seek Christ in others.  On this day when we proclaim who we are and how we will live, one might imagine that we are readying ourselves and gathering our supplies, and especially that we are arming this small, vulnerable child for walking the way of Christ.  But instead, Jesus basically tells us that there is no way to protect ourselves; there is no way to prepare.[ii]  We go with our trust in the Lord, with vulnerability, and with a sense of identity and purpose.

That is why I think we could stand to have baptism Sunday every Sunday.  Our tendency would be to find the biggest backpack we can and load that bag with all the things we think we need for our journey.  But Jesus tells us to put that bag down and start walking:  walking the way, the truth, and the light; walking by seeking, serving, and sharing Christ.  In many ways Rose has more to teach us today than we have to teach her.  She came into this world with very little.  In fact, she even came here with very little – sure her parents might have a monster diaper bag with all the “just in case” stuff babies often need.  But Rose herself cannot carry a bag; she is not self-sufficient; she is vulnerable with us all.  Instead of giving Rose an armor for Christ today, she encourages us to take off our armor and swords, and get back to the basics: our staff, sandals, and tunic.  That is the beauty of baptism.  Baptism helps us remember that we need each other.  Rose needs us to teach her the way.  We need her to teach us how to gat back to basics.  Together we find our way to living the faithful life in Christ.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

[i] Michael L. Lindvall talks about the anxiety that evangelism produces in all of us in his article, “Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. B, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 216.

[ii] C. Clifton Black, “Commentary on Mark 6:1-13,” July 5, 2015, as found at http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2502 on July 2, 2015.

Always go to the baptism…

Tags

baptism, bold, community, faith, funeral, Jesus, journey, life-giving, radical, transformation

Photo credit: http://www.holyangelssturgis.org/sacraments/baptism/

At St. Margaret’s we are in the middle of two big weeks.  This past Sunday we baptized twin girls and this coming Sunday we are baptizing another baby girl.  It is fairly rare for our parish to have back-to-back baptisms.  For the Altar Guild, that has meant that the same paraments can stay on the altar, the Pascal Candle can stay in the sanctuary, and flowers will be equally festive.  For the liturgical leaders it means that the occasionally used service is much more familiar as we head into this weekend – we should not need as much preparation and should be primed for who is holding what and when (it turns out there is a lot of choreography when it comes to liturgy!).  And for the parish, the liturgy will be very familiar and they will be ready for their big line, “We will!” when it is their turn to affirm that they will do all in their power to support these persons in their life in Christ.

But just because this coming Sunday feels familiar or even repetitive, nothing about it is rote.  That is the thing about baptisms:  although everything surrounding the day is the same, the experience is totally unique.  In the Episcopal Church, we only baptize once.  A baptism is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, something that is tremendously significant and special.  Nothing can invalidate our baptism.  Once we are welcomed into the household of God, nothing the person does can take away that status.  Baptism is a big deal.

I have often heard it said that you should never miss a funeral.  A funeral only happens once, and is something you can never recreate.  Though many of us fear what to say or do or how to approach the family, just being there becomes a blessing to the bereaved and to you.  It is a practice many have come to value:  always go to the funeral.  In fact, I began to embrace that mantra fully after seeing this story.

I think the same can be said of a baptism.  Though the liturgy is always the same, the liturgy says and does something very important.  It is not about the pretty dresses or handsome outfits.  It is about a sacred thing that happens.  It is about committing to a way of life – declaring the importance of faith in one’s life and agreeing to live in a certain way.  It is about renewing our own commitment to our baptismal covenant – something that, if done regularly, could probably help us change the world.  And it is about standing tall as a community, and taking ownership for the ways in which we form one another.  When we jubilantly say, “We will!”, our commitment is to being a community that lives life in a radically different way – in seeking Jesus, in serving Jesus, and in sharing Jesus.  When we stand at the font as a community we are claiming a radical identity that changes everything in our lives.  Something bold, invigorating, and life-giving happens at baptism.  You may think that if you have seen one baptism, you have seen them all.  On the contrary, I suggest that each one has a unique way of transforming us in Christ.  For the health of ourselves, the community, and the newly baptized, we need to be at the baptism as much as the family wants us to be there.  Always go to the baptism.  It will change your life.

Sermon – Mark 5.21-43, P8, YB, June 28, 2015

Tags

baptism, Christ, communion, community, doubt, faith, God, hemorrhaging woman, Jairus' daughter, Jesus, powerful, saints, strong, weakness, witness, women

Today we are surrounded by some powerful women.  Many of you do not know Charlotte and Piper, who we are baptizing today, but they came into the world fighting.  While they were in the womb, their lives were threatened.  Doctors were able to operate in the womb at twenty-one weeks to ensure their survival.  Despite that help, they were born early and very tiny, but amazingly, had to have very little medical support.  Once they gained weight, they were able to come home and enjoy a healthy infancy.  My guess is that the strength these two children of God harnessed is what has pulled them through – a strength that their parents might regret when they hit their teenage years!

When we baptize Charlotte and Piper, we will baptize them into a communion full of strong saints – women who have paved the road before them, who have shown great faithfulness and strength, and who will serve as mentors and guides in their earthly pilgrimage.  We meet a couple of those women today.  First we meet Jairus’ daughter through her father.  Now, we might not think of her as a strong woman, since she is near death, but this young woman was powerful nonetheless.  She evokes such devotion in her father that he, a synagogue leader, is willing to bow down to the controversial Jesus and beg for healing for his dying daughter.  Jairus’ love for this powerful young woman made him willing to cross boundaries, to show vulnerability, and put great faith in Jesus.  We also know that Jairus’ daughter is twelve, about the age that women start menstruating, making them capable of producing life – one of the most powerful gifts of nature.  Though she is at death’s door, her power as a woman and as an individual bring people like Jesus to her, so that she might be restored to wholeness of life.

Of course, we also meet another strong woman today.  By all accounts, this woman should not have been strong.  In those days, menstruation alone meant that women had to be separated from the community for a period of time for ritual impurity.  But to have been bleeding for twelve years means that this woman has been ostracized from others for as long as Jairus’ daughter has been alive.  Furthermore, she spent all her money trying to obtain healing from doctors.  Her poverty and her impurity make her a double outcast.[i]  But this woman will not quit.  She boldly steps into a crowd (likely touching many people that she ritually should not) and she grabs on to Jesus’ clothing, knowing that simply by touching Jesus she can be healed.  She does not ask Jesus to heal her or mildly whisper among the crowds, “Excuse me Jesus, could you please heal me?”  No, she takes matters into her own hands, and though Jesus demands to speak with her, her own determination and faith make her whole.

In many ways, the baptism that we witness today is a same expression of strength and faith.  When we are baptized, we (or in the case of infants our parents and godparents) boldly claim the life of faith.  We renounce the forces of evil and we rejoice in the goodness of God.  We promise to live our life seeking and serving Christ, honoring dignity in others, and sharing Christ in the world.  This action is not a meek or mild one.  This action is an action of boldness – one in which we stand before the waters of baptism, and stake our claim in resurrection life.

Now, here’s the good news:  even though we are surrounded by powerful women today and we are doing and saying powerful things, we do not always have to be strong.  All the women we honor today are strong – but they have moments of weakness too.[ii]  I am sure over the course of twelve years, the hemorrhaging woman has doubts.  As bold as she is today, I am sure there are moments when she fears – maybe even that day – whether she could really reach out and claim Jesus’ power as her own.  And as Jairus’ daughter feels the life fade from her, I am sure she doubts.  I am sure she wonders whether she will ever be able to claim the life-force that is budding inside of her or to live a long life honoring her parents.  And though Charlotte and Piper have been warriors thus far in life, they will both have their own doubts and weaknesses.  In fact, that is why we as a congregation today promise that we will do all in our power to support them in their life in Christ.  That is why her parents and godparents promise by their prayers and witness to help them grow into the full stature of Christ.  That is the good news today.  For all the moments of strength that we honor in one another, we also honor the doubts, fears, and weaknesses.  God is with us then too, and gives us the community of faith to keep us stable until we can be strong witnesses again.  Amen.

[i] Mark D. W. Edington, “Theological Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. B, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 190.

[ii] David Lose, “Come As You Are,” June 24, 2012 at https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=1493 found on June 25, 2015.