Sermon – Luke 21.25-36, A1, YC, November 28, 2021

Tags

Advent, anticipation, apocalyptic, busy, Christ Child, dread, God, happy, help, Jesus, righteousness, Sermon, works

As the passing of Thanksgiving brought on the presence of Christmas music radio stations, my husband and were talking about our favorite classics.  His grandfather and I both loved Nat King Cole’s “Christmas Song” with its images of, “chestnuts roasting on an open fire.”  Our conversation swept me up in wave of nostalgia as we talked about other favorites like Judy Garland’s “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” or Mariah Carey’s admittedly cheesy “All I Want for Christmas is You.”  The tricky part about these songs though is that they do not connect me to the reality of my lifetime of Christmases.  Instead, they simply remind me of my idealized dream of Christmas – the glossy picture I have devised about the utter perfection of Christmas.

Our entrance into Advent is a lot like that contrast.  You might have come into church today totally excited about the hope and love of Advent as we await the perfect baby Jesus.  We imagine Advent as a sort of pregnancy, where we wait for four weeks to birth the Christ Child.  We cannot wait to hear those stories that are coming – of Mary and Joseph, of shepherds and angels, of wise men.  Advent in our minds is this great time of anticipation.

But the actual gospel text for today does little to fuel this happy anticipation.  Instead, our gospel lesson from Luke is an apocalyptic text about signs and fainting and fear.  “Stand up and raise your heads…Be on guard…Be alert at all times,” says Jesus.  The words from Jesus are not soothing or encouraging at all.  The kind of waiting Jesus describes does not sound like a joyful waiting for a birth but sounds more like the dreaded waiting for judgment. 

As modern Christians, we do not tend to enjoy apocalyptic scripture lessons for several reasons.  First, apocalyptic readings are usually weird.  We much more often associate these texts with crazy fanatics who make predictions about the end of the world that rarely come true.  We even make jokes with silly bumper stickers that say, “Jesus is coming.  Look busy.”  Second, we often do not understand what apocalyptic readings mean or how to interpret them.  That style of literature is totally foreign to us.  Even John Calvin, theologian and father of the Presbyterian Church, who wrote a commentary on every other book of the Bible, did not attempt to write about Revelation.[i]  If John Calvin cannot interpret apocalyptic literature, we do not have much hope for our own understanding.  And, finally, we do not tend to enjoy apocalyptic readings because we find them exhausting.  Even Will Willimon argues that, “It’s hard to stand on tiptoe for two thousand years.”[ii]  Our life is already full of anxiety these days.  Between the state of the economy, a devastating pandemic, deeply divisive political tensions, and our own financial, personal, and emotional anxieties, we have enough to worry about without having to also be anxious about Jesus’ return. 

Despite our hesitancy, there is good reason for us to turn to this kind of text.  The season of Advent reminds us that we cannot anticipate the first coming of Christ without also anticipating the second coming of Christ.  The two activities are intimately linked.  We celebrate the birth of this child because we know what this child will be.  We do not simply anticipate the Christ Child because he will be a cute baby.  We anticipate him because we know that he will be the Savior and Redeemer of the world and he promises to come again.  We anticipate this birth because of the joy of this specific person and Godhead, in whom we have redemption. 

In this time between the two advents, the Church invites us through Luke to live a little differently than normal.  This Advent, we are invited to step back and look at the whole of our Christian faith.  Sure, we may not want to be on guard at all times but being on guard from time to time is a good thing.  As Lewis Smedes argues the hardest part of anticipating the second coming of Jesus Christ is in “living the sort of life that makes people say, ‘Ah, so that’s how people are going to live when righteousness takes over our world.’”[iii]  This is our work this Advent.  Not just to look busy because Jesus is coming, but to be busy with works of righteousness.

There is a well-known story that happened in the colonial period of American history.  The Connecticut House of Representatives were going about their work on a sunny May day, when all of a sudden, an eclipse caught the entire legislature off guard.  Right in the middle of debate, everything went to darkness.  In the midst of panic over whether this might be the second coming, a motion was made to adjourn the legislature so that people could pray and prepare for the coming of the Lord.  In response, one legislator stood up and said, “Mr. Speaker, if it is not the end of the world and we adjourn, we shall appear to be fools.  If it is the end of the world, I choose to be found doing my duty.  I move you, sir, let candles be brought.”[iv]  Those men who expected Jesus went back to their desks and by candlelight resumed their debate. 

We too light candles in Advent.  We too move into a time of actively living in the time between two advents.  We too take on the intentional work of living as though righteousness has taken over the world.  Of course, we do not do this work alone.  We do this work “prayerfully, depending upon God to give strength to persevere despite temptation or persecution.”[v]  Jesus is coming.  With God’s help, instead of “looking busy” this Advent, we can be busy this Advent with works of righteousness.  Amen.       

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[i] Cornelius Plantinga, Jr., “In the Interim,” Christian Century, vol. 117, no. 34, Dec. 6, 2000, 1271.

[ii] Will Willimon, as quoted by Plantinga, 1270.

[iii] Lewis Smedes, Standing on the Promises, as quoted by Plantinga, 1272.

[iv] Joanna M. Adams, “Light the Candles,” Christian Century, vol. 123, no. 24, Nov. 28, 2006, 18.

[v] Mariam J. Kamell, “Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. C, Vol. 1 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009),25.

The Pilgrim’s Way…Day 1

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busy, God, invitation, pilgrimage, refocus, silence, stillness, Yorkminster

Photo credit:  Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly; reuse with permission only

Sixteen pilgrims from Hickory Neck Church traveled to England for 8 days of pilgrimage.  Our focus was on choral music, hearing Evensong or Choral Mass at a Cathedral, Minster, or college everyday.  This is the first entry, initially posted on our church Facebook page.  For those of you who do not follow us on Facebook, I am repeating the journey’s daily entries here.  Enjoy!

Yorkminster

Besides a stunning Evensong, one of my favorite moments on pilgrimage was the invitation to stillness for pilgrims. After explaining why the silence was so important for those making pilgrimage, the entire Minster stopped. In this massive Minster, with hundreds of guests, you could hear a pin drop.

It made me wonder, how often in everyday life do we accept God’s invitation to stillness? How often, in our busyness, do we forget to take one minute – one minute – to relax our minds enough to give our entire focus to God. The gesture is so simple and yet can be so profound. This week, we invite you moments of silence. In our earthly pilgrimage, we all need moments to refocus.

We look forward to seeing you at this page tomorrow!!

Sermon – John 17.6-19, Acts 1.15-17, 21-26, E7, YB, May 13, 2018

Tags

Ascension, busy, disciples, Jesus, name, Pentecost, pray, prayer, present, scared, Sermon, wait

I used to belong to a community that had healing prayers every Wednesday at a midday Eucharist.  I never liked to go forward myself, but I was happy to see so many other people go forward for prayers.  Honestly, for the longest time, I did not really understand the whole process.  Were the same people so sick they needed prayers every week?  Were they having prayers for themselves or for other people?  And I had no idea what the priests were saying to them or what they said to the priests.  I was so intimidated by the whole process that I usually just sat in my seat and prayed for those going forward.

Then one day, some stuff was going on in my life I felt overwhelmed by and I finally stood up and got in line with all the other people.  I was so nervous.  I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to tell the priest my whole story, or if I was supposed to ask for something specific, or if I was just supposed to bow my head and wait for the priest to pray.  When I finally reached the priest, he looked at me expectantly.  I mumbled some prayer request that was super short and in no way indicated why I really needed prayers.  But then the priest did something extraordinary.  He prayed for me by name and was able to craft a prayer so thoughtful and generous, that I felt like he could see into my soul and understand what was really weighing me down.  By simply saying my name, I felt known, cared for, understood, and seen – really seen – for the first time in a long time.

I suspect that is what the disciples are looking for at this point in our narrative.  For weeks, Jesus has been making resurrection appearances, teaching the disciples, and talking to them about next steps.  These weeks have been reassuring, lifegiving, and invigorating.  What seemed to be a massive disaster is now a holy victory.  But then, just days ago, Jesus finally leaves them for good as he ascends into heaven.  Before he goes, he tells them to wait for the Spirit to clothe them with power.  We are told they disciples return to the temple, praising God, but in our Acts lesson today, the disciples are busy figuring out their leadership plan.  You see, the establishment of twelve disciples was important to the ancestral roots of the twelve tribes of Israel.  The disciples want to be ready to “witness the messianic kingdom inaugurated by the death and resurrection of Jesus.” [i]

This is what we all do when we are scared.  We busy ourselves.  Jesus tells the disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit, and what do the disciples do?  They start developing a leadership plan, thinking about their presentation to the faith community, and organizing themselves.  None of these things were things Jesus told them to do.  In fact, Jesus told them to wait.  But we are not very good at waiting.  I remember last summer when the Vestry finished our needs assessment about child care and adult day care in Upper James City County, the conclusions were clear.  Both were needed and anything we could do would be a help.  When we finished that final assessment, I remember thinking, “Now what?!?  How in the world are we going to actually do something about either of these issues?”  When we left that meeting, I sensed we all walked away with the same sense of dread.  The community had spoken, but we had no idea how to live into God’s dream for us.  It was like looking over a great chasm with no way to cross over.  I remember wondering what other work we could do to prepare ourselves for something like that.  But I also remember being so clueless about what would come next that I kind of just looked to God with a sense of panic, wondering, “Now what?!?”

That’s why I love the gospel lesson from John today.  The lesson from John does not fit chronologically with where we have been in the Luke-Acts story.  John’s gospel today includes the words of Jesus’ farewell discourse before his passion.  These last verses of John 17 are a part of a prayer that Jesus says after an extensive time of teaching.  The words we hear today are not the words of a desperate prayer said in private by Jesus to God.  The words we hear today are words of prayer said for and about the disciples – said right within their hearing.  The words are not particularly pretty.  In typical John form, they sound circuitous and repetitive – so much so, they can be hard to really hear.  But if we listen closely, Jesus’ words today are an impassioned prayer for the personal care and safety of the disciples, so that the disciples can feel empowered to go out into the world under God’s protection.  “This is not Jesus teaching his disciples how to pray.  This is not only a personal prayer or privatized piety.  After betrayal and predicted denial, after concerned questions and foretold rejection, the disciples do not need another lesson, another miracle, another example.  They need exactly what Jesus does, because Jesus knows — for Jesus to pray for them.”[ii]

Jesus’ prayer is like the priest’s prayer at that healing service.  Jesus sees these scared, confused, anxious disciples and he prays for them by name, reminding them how they are loved, calling down God’s motherly love for the disciples, and asking for a sense of empowerment for each disciple. Although his prayer is not said in those days between the Ascension and Pentecost, the disciples could stand to remember this moment as they wait.  When we steer far from God’s providence, and we start to busy ourselves to hide our anxiety, these are the words we return to to steady ourselves.  Jesus’ words today, called the High Priestly Prayer, are the words of a priest – calling us by name, naming our specific anxieties before God, soothing us by their healing power, and calming us so that we might be able to go out into the world.

But Jesus’ words are not just the words of a priest.  Jesus’ words today are the words of all the faithful – said on behalf of another we name, said in the confidence of a child of God, said in the presence of one receiving prayer.  We can give away the gift of prayer and blessing the disciples needed too.  You may not feel comfortable praying aloud with another person yet.  If so, a prayer, using the person’s name and praying as Jesus does for that person is fine.  But Jesus’ words and actions for the disciples today embolden you to do what Jesus does.  You can ask the other person if you might pray for them – and pray with them right then and there:  whether you are praying for your own child and the concerns they have just voiced to you, whether you are praying for a friend who has finally confessed what is on their heart aloud, or whether you are praying for an acquaintance who cannot express their heart, but who is speaking to you because they know you are a person of faith and they need a priestly prayer from Jesus.  Any of you who have gathered at the side altar for healing prayers, or who have had your name called aloud for prayer knows the power of this work.

Normally, I commission you at the end of every sermon – giving you a task to do out in the world, bringing the good news of God in Christ into the broken world.  But on this Sunday between the Ascension and Pentecost, I invite you to take Jesus word’s seriously:  to pray while you wait for the empowerment of the Spirit.  This is not an invitation to look busy or to use action to cover anxiety this week.  This is an invitation to be present every day, looking around you for those who need your prayer, and then offering that personal, named prayer for those in your path.  As Jesus prayed for the disciples, as the disciples prayed for those with whom they shared the good news, so we continue the age-old practice of deep, personal, abiding prayer with others.  Those prayers for the disciples are prayers for us – Jesus prays for us today.[iii]  Our invitation is to give that comforting, loving, emboldening gift to others.  Your words, your calling another by name, give them power to sit and wait for our God too.  Amen.

[i] David S. Cunningham, “Theological Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), 528.

[ii] Karoline Lewis, “Prayers Needed,” May 6, 2018, as found at http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5147 on May 9, 2018.

[iii] David Lose, “Easter 7 B:  Prayer is Love,” May 10, 2018, as found at http://www.davidlose.net/2018/05/easter-7-b-pray-is-love/ on May 10, 2018.

The Eye of the Beholder…

Tags

art, busy, Christ, eyes, God, important, intention, museum, perception, presence, see

This summer I had the great pleasure of seeing some great art exhibits.  Though I typically love going to art museums, I rarely make time to go.  Life just gets too busy and other “important” things seem to take precedence.  But what I realized this summer is I should go to art museums more often because the busyness of life easily distracts me from seeing the really important stuff of life.

Photo credit:  http://thedali.org/exhibit/gala-contemplating-mediterranean-sea/

My first art museum jaunt was to the Salvadore Dali Museum in St. Petersburg, Florida.  I did not really know much about Dali, except his iconic melting clocks.  But his work blew me away.  One of my favorite pieces of his is called, “Gala Contemplating the Mediterranean Sea,” 1976.  He plays with images in the painting so that up close you see a cross, and far away, you see a portrait of Abraham Lincoln.  But it wasn’t until I took a picture with my phone that I could see the second image.  His playfulness with visual perception made me wonder if we don’t all struggle with visual perception in life.  We all run around seeing only a portion of reality.  This partial vision and perception means that we are also constantly missing the presence and activity of God in our lives.  Like Dali’s painting, we can miss the presence of Christ when we are too close or too far away to notice our Savior in the world about us.

 

Photo credit:  http://theredlist.com/search-image?q=angel

I had a similar experience when visiting the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts in Richmond.  They have an exhibit by Kehinde Wiley that shakes up our senses about who is traditionally featured in portraits.  My favorite piece of his was a gold-leaf icon-like portrait called “The Archangel Gabriel” 2014.  Everything about the Angel Gabriel is unexpected – his clothing, his hair, his jewelry, and his skin color.  But there is also something entirely familiar about him – a gentleness, trustworthiness, and sense of reassurance.  By reimagining ancient depictions of the Angel Gabriel, Wiley reminds us that God does not always appear in the ways and in the people we expect.  I suspect that we often miss God’s presence simply because we are not looking with the eyes of God.

I wonder how common this pattern is for all of us.  How often do we rush past Christ as we rush through life?  This week, I invite you to do what you need to do to slow down and see God at work in the world about you.  Whether you need to go to an art exhibit, take a yoga class, volunteer with one of our outreach ministries, or just take thirty minutes of quiet or prayer, find a way to shake up your busy routine and look with intention to see the ways in which God is active in your life.  I look forward to hearing about what you learn.

The art of listening…

Tags

busy, Eli, God, hear, Holy Spirit, listening, Samuel, spiritual direction

Someone recently asked me how my spiritual direction was going.  The question stopped me in my tracks because, in fact, I had not been to see my Spiritual Director since my maternity leave started nine months ago.  The excuses were always good.  First it was the need to tend to my newborn in those first three months.  Then it was the need to figure out how to get my footing being a mother of two and a full-time priest.  Then it was the craziness of the program year starting and the holidays.  But now it is Epiphany and I have run out of excuses.

For those of you unfamiliar with spiritual direction, a spiritual director is one who is trained in listening for the movement of the Spirit with their directee, helping them to discern what God is doing in their lives.  Anyone can use a spiritual director, but clergy are especially encouraged to use them because the temptation for many clergy is to get so busy in the doing of ministry that we forget to stop and listen to how the Holy Spirit is moving in and through our communities and ourselves.

In some ways, our Old Testament lesson last week was a bit like the work of spiritual direction.  In 1 Samuel 3.1-20, we hear the story of Samuel’s call narrative.  Samuel’s story initially comes off as a bit humorous:  Samuel constantly waking up Eli in the middle of the night, thinking Eli had called him and Eli shooing him back to bed.  But Eli, like any good spiritual director, finally gets it the third time – he discerns that the Lord is trying to speak to Samuel.  And so Eli gives Samuel the tools to respond to God.  The rest is up to Samuel.

Courtesy of http://americancatholiccouncil.org/2013/08/16/newsletter-august-11/

Whether we use a spiritual director or not, we all struggle to hear God.  We get busy living life and forget the ways in which the Holy Spirit is constantly whispering to us, beckoning us into conversation and relationship.  In living this way we miss out on the sacred moments of life, too busy to stop and listen.  If you find yourself in this pattern, I wonder who might help you to connect with the holy voice of God.  Perhaps it is through a formal spiritual director or perhaps it is through a mentor or friend like Eli.  Perhaps it is through regular times of prayer, or perhaps you catch that quiet in your car by turning off the radio and using the moment to hear something else.  If you have strayed away from listening lately, I invite you to rediscover the art of listening again.  My guess is that God has been waiting for you and may have a lot to say.

Giving thanks…

Tags

breath, busy, God, quiet, thanks, Thanksgiving Day, worship

At 6:30 this morning, I got a call from the Chair of my Buildings and Grounds Committee.  He was worried about the amount of water we are getting here and asked if I would run over to the church to make sure the undercroft had not flooded overnight (as his basement at home had).  Luckily I was dressed, but our family was in the morning flurry of getting showers, eating breakfast, and making lunches.  I had hoped to sneak over to the church quietly, but as soon as my daughter found out what I was doing, she wanted to go too.  So we rushed to find her shoes and raincoat, I rushed to grab an umbrella, and we ran out the door.  About half-way to the church, I realized I had forgotten the church keys.  As I quickly tried to rush my 4-year old back to the house, I realized that my lack of church keys meant I also had left my house keys inside the house.  Of course, my husband was in the shower.  Needless to say, there was lots of doorbell ringing over the following five minutes.  Ah, the joys of a crazy, scattered priest and mother.

For this and so many other reasons, I am tremendously grateful that my husband suggested we take this Thanksgiving to just have a quiet holiday alone.  As an extrovert, my immediate response to his request was a bit of sadness and wistfulness – Thanksgiving is supposed to be about loud families or friends and yummy food.  But then I remembered how for the last several weekends in a row I have had multiple church commitments, how last week alone I had three night meetings, and how my husband I have felt like ships passing in the night these last several weeks.  I knew the wisdom behind his request, and so we have gathered a much smaller amount of food, and have plans to just be together as a family this weekend.  Well…and maybe clean the house and unpack some baby stuff.  But at least we are doing that together!

Courtesy of http://metropraise.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-history-of-thanksgiving-in-united.html

I know for most of you, Thanksgiving is not really about quiet and retreat.  That may feel like a foreign, if not uncomfortable, concept to you.  But even if you are planning to gather with your loud Uncle Joe or your nagging mother-in-law, I hope that you will take a moment to take a little breath, and remember in the quiet what Thanksgiving is really about.  Maybe you invite your family into prayer before the meal, maybe you invite everyone to share something they are grateful for, or maybe you just do your own self assessment of the bounty surrounding you on every side – of food, of shelter, of clothing, of laughter, of a God who loves and cares for you abundantly.  And if that is the only breath of thanksgiving you can afford on that day, then you have taken a sip of the pool of thanksgiving available to you.  And if you are thirsty for more, find a church holding a Thanksgiving Day service, and give yourself an entire hour of this kind of thankfulness.  It may be the greatest gift you give yourself this holiday season.

St. Margaret’s Church celebrates Holy Eucharist on Thanksgiving Day at 10:00 AM.  All are welcome!

Homily – Matthew 24.42-47, Theodore of Tarsus, September 19, 2013

Tags

busy, church, God, Jesus, Theodore of Tarsus, vigilance

We’ve all seen the bumper sticker: Jesus is coming – look busy!  We usually chuckle when we see the sticker, but only because our chuckle masks some of our fears.  We know that Jesus will return, and we know that we must account for our lives – that alone can make us afraid.  We also know that we tend to fill our lives with stuff: work, leisure, TV, and general business.  Though our busyness is rarely about living a Christ-like life, we somehow fool ourselves and hope to fool God into thinking our busyness is meaningful.

That is why our Gospel lesson today is so scary.  Jesus tells us to keep awake, to be ready, to be at work – as awake as a man who knows a thief is coming to his house and stands ready to protect his family.  Jesus promises the hour of his return is unknown and so this constant vigilance is required.  And yet, we have no idea how to sustain that kind of vigilance and stamina.

Theodore of Tarsus, Archbishop of Canterbury, seemed to know how to live the life of vigilance with ease.  Born in 602, he became a bishop at age 66 – when most of us are readying for retirement.  A learned monk residing in Rome, Theodore was called to England at a time of plague and strife between the rival Celtic and Rome customs.  But he managed to enter this place, establishing a school where both Irish and English Churches trained; he visited all of England, fostering unity; and he honored traditions of both groups.  He worked tirelessly to organize the Church and died at age 88.

What I like about Theodore’s story is that he shows us not that we should be crazed, vigilant Christians, but that God can use us at any stage of life when we are willing.  Amen.