Sermon – 1 Kings 19.9-18, P14, YA, August 9, 2020

Tags

Elijah, encouragement, faithfulness, God, listen, quiet, Sermon, silence, sound, speaking

Today’s sermon is offered as the height of irony.  The art of preaching is based on the spoken word.  Fortunately for you, we are Episcopalians, so our sermons are usually under fifteen minutes – and in the times of livestreaming, we shorten them down to less than ten.  In other traditions, the spoken word of the sermon can last thirty minutes to an hour.  In fact, I used to worship at a church where scheduling lunches after worship was nearly impossible because depending on how much the preacher got going, lunch could be a noon, at one, or even approaching two in the afternoon.

I say this is the height of irony because our scripture lessons today seem to point to one instruction:  to stop talking.  Poor Elijah has sunken into a funk.  He shuts down the prophets of Baal in a dramatic, showy display of confidence and trust in God.  But as soon as Queen Jezebel threatens to retaliate by taking Elijah’s life, Elijah flees and becomes so despondent in the wilderness, he would rather the Lord take his life.  Though God shows infinite compassion, tending to Elijah’s needs for food and shelter, when Elijah dejectedly goes all the way to Mt. Sinai, God finally asks a loaded question, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”  Elijah’s response is to start talking – a lot.  He goes on and on, justifying what a great prophet and servant he has been, how he has defended God’s honor, and punished sinners.  Then he complains about how despite his valiant work, his life is threatened, and he is the only one left defending God.

As if to demonstrate how Elijah needs to stop talking and start listening, God makes a dramatic point.  A great wind passes by Elijah’s cave, then an earthquake, and even a fire.  But not until there is the sound of sheer silence does God appear.  Once again, God, in the sound of sheer silence asks, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”  Now this is the point at which Elijah should have gotten the hint:  answers are not in the noise of wind, earthquakes, and fire – not even in endless talking.  Answers are found in the profound silence of God.  But Elijah does not get the hint, and proceeds to answer God with the exact same verbose explanation.

With the exception of those who live in religious orders, most of us struggle with the sheer silence of God.  Our prayers to God are full of words – petitions for loved ones, diatribes of lament over our fractured political state, or words of anger at God when we feel abandoned, anxious, or overwhelmed.  Even our own liturgical tradition is rooted in words.  We are quite good at talking to God.  Our challenge is not in finding words; our challenge in relationship with God is in not using words – in making room for the sound of sheer silence.  Anyone who has been to a Taizé worship service knows that in the long periods of silence – three to five minutes even – the first couple of minutes are filled with the shuffling discomfort of those gathered.  In our resistance to silence is a resistance to God:  perhaps a fear that we will not be able to hear God, or worse, a fear of what we will hear from God.

Professor Christopher Davis says, “One of the hardest lessons we have to learn is that God is in the quiet, the gentle influences that are ever around us, working with us, for us, and on us, without any visible or audible indicators of activity.  We must learn to listen for the God who is quiet and gentle.”[i]  In Elijah’s story, God makes this point dramatically – offering some of the loudest acts of nature to contrast the sound of sheer silence.  Now the good news is God does not see Elijah’s inability to stop talking as justification to abandon Elijah.  In fact, not only does God quietly tell Elijah he is not alone – there are still seven thousand in Israel who are as faithful as Elijah.  But God also provides a solution for Elijah – kings and a prophetic successor, Elisha, who will take up the mantle when Elijah can no longer keep going.

The promise is the same for us.  Even if we are unable to stop talking at God – Lord knows in the middle of this pandemic, with what feels like the world crumbling around us, we have a lot to say to God.  Our invitation though, is to take a pause, maybe even a deep breath, and listen for the sound of sheer silence.  In that silence, God is finally able to speak to us, showing us the signs of encouragement all around us, pointing us to signs of God’s faithfulness in what can feel like abandonment, and helping us physically turn to God when our bodies are much more trained to stay in tense resistance in some attempt to control the chaos all around us.  This week, the Lord reminds us that we cannot always talk our way out of the cacophony of life.  Sometimes only the sheer silence of God’s presence can speak to us.  When God asks us this week, “what are you doing here?” our invitation is not to justify ourselves with words, but to ponder anew with God in the silence.  Whether we speak or manage to stay silent, God is there:  but today, God offers us the gentle reminder that we will find hearing God a whole lot easier if we can simply stand with God in the sheer sound of silence.  Amen.

 

[i] Christopher Davis, “Commentary on 1 Kings 19:9-18,” August 9, 2020, as found at http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4556 on August 7, 2020.

Sermon – Isaiah 43.1-7, EP1, YC, January 13, 2019

Tags

affirmation, Annual Meeting, calling, emboldening, encouragement, giving, God, Holy Spirit, Jesus, love, ministry, precious, protect, Sermon, serving, year

Today, as we celebrate another year of ministry in Jesus Christ through Hickory Neck, and as we host our Annual Meeting, we hear words of encouragement from Holy Scripture.  The reading from Isaiah says, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.  For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.  …you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you…”   God’s words spoken through the prophet tell God’s people they are cherished and loved, they will be protected, even through the waters and fires of life, and they are called for a purpose.

As I reflect back on this past year, we have seen evidence that we are precious in God’s sight, and honored, and loved.  We see that most readily in the pastoral care and fellowship of Hickory Neck.  Whether we have been visited by a priest or a Eucharistic Visitor, whether we have received a birthday, sympathy, or prayer card, or whether we have had our dreams heard and affirmed, we have felt precious, honored, and loved and Hickory.  We have felt that same sense of love in times of fellowship – whether laughing at coffee hour or brunch, finding spiritual renewal at the Women’s Retreat or a Quiet Day, connecting with longtime friends at summer merged services or our new Rector’s lunches, or whether we have met new friends at joint picnics with the Kensington School – we have felt God’s love through one another.  And as we have baptized many a child this past year, married and renewed the vows of parishioners, and lovingly buried old friends, we have felt that sense of being honored and precious in God’s eyes.  If ever we were uncertain that God loves us, that we are precious and honored, we find that affirmation in the ministries and witness of one another at Hickory Neck.

Life at Hickory Neck also testifies to God’s insistence that we not be afraid – that God is with us as we pass through the waters, through the rivers, or walk through the fires.  We entered 2018 with budget deficit, knowing we had trimmed as much as we could, and praying for generous hearts and frugal hands.  And just this week, our Treasurer tells us that we finished the year in the black!  I am so grateful for the ways in which God inspired your generosity to Hickory Neck, helping us serve Christ in the world!  Talk about walking through a fire (and literal waters, as Pete Devlin bailed out the Chapels too many times to count this year!).  But that was not the only trial this year.  This year we also passed through the waters of being a property that only hosted a church to a property that opened its doors and its hearts to a new school.  We labored through SUP permits, giant trailers and construction, the demolishing of an old playground and the creation of a new beautiful playground, and waiting for a Certificate of Occupancy.  But we emerged out of the waters into a new relationship – one that is bringing mutual blessing and joy, that is blessing our community, and is serving a need beyond our doors.  We have walked through waters, rivers, and fires, and yet God has been with us, inspiring us, encouraging us, and building us up to be stronger witnesses for Christ.

Finally, when God tells the people of Israel they are called by name, and they are God’s, we hear echoes of that same sense of calling at Hickory Neck.  God has called many of us to new ministries this year – from new Task Forces, to covering duties once held by a volunteer sexton, to new chairs of committees and participants in ministries, to a new deacon.  God has also called Hickory Neck out into our community. From hosting the Winter Shelter, to providing backpacks to neighbors in need, to raising funds for local charities, and supporting the work the Discretionary Fund does to help neighbors in financial crisis.  And when one of our new member’s family was devastated by fires in California, Hickory Neck claimed them as their own, helping support their recovery.  As members of Hickory Neck, we are called by named, known by God, and are serving as witnesses of Christ in the world.

Unfortunately, we do not get to close 2018, dust off our hands, and say, “Good work, Hickory Neck!  You’re all done!”  As we look toward 2019, with yet another budget deficit, we realize a few things.  This year holds yet another river we will need to cross – a river that the Lord promises will not overwhelm us.  This year, I, with the help of Personnel and our Vestry, will be reimagining the staffing of Hickory Neck as we face yet another transition.  As Charlie’s tenure as our curate comes to end and we celebrate his time with us, we know that Hickory Neck will need to envision a new way to staff our parish for the future.  I do not know the end result of that discernment, but I do know that God has powerful things in store for us.  As much as mentoring a curate into a new ministry has been a blessing for us, I suspect the other side of this river has blessings for us too.  We have hints of that blessing as we see the generosity of many in our parish, a majority of whose pledges increased, and whose average pledge is higher than many Episcopal parishes.

As we look ahead to 2019, we hear echoes of God’s words through Isaiah, “you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you.”  Upon the completion of our Church Safety Task Force’s work, the Vestry will be making some decision and implementing new practices to ensure each parishioner’s safety while on our campus because each member and visitor’s life is precious to us.  Likewise, our Pastoral Care team will be implementing the new Circle Ministry to help parishioners stay connected through prayer every week.  Meanwhile, the staff and leadership of Hickory Neck has committed itself to honoring one another through increased opportunities for fellowship and pastoral care, for formation of children and adults, and for the tending of our newcomers.

Finally, as we enter into 2019, we do not forget God’s words to the people of Israel, “I have called you by name, you are mine.”  One of the primary reasons we and the Bishop called Deacon Bob to serve Hickory Neck was so he could help each of us assess how God is calling us this year, reminding us to whom we belong, and how we can serve this God who loves us so much.  We answer God’s call later this winter as we host Winter Shelter on our own for the first time since we started co-hosting Winter Shelter weeks.  This year we also commit to Hickory Neck’s calling to be a home the multigenerational care of our neighbors.  We expect our relationship with the Kensington School to deepen, as we offer Godly Play classes to students, increase pastoral care efforts to students, teachers, and families, and as we add opportunities for fellowship and formation.  We will also continue our discernment around elder respite care, determining how to address the growing need in our community and how we can utilize our resources for our neighbors in need.  God has called us to powerful ministries in 2019, and Hickory Neck is poised to respond, “Here I am, Lord.”

When I read this passage from Isaiah in preparation for today, I felt an overwhelming sense of affirmation, encouragement, and emboldening.  When I looked back at 2018 with Hickory Neck and looked forward at 2019 with Hickory Neck, I felt a similarly overwhelming sense of affirmation, encouragement, and emboldening.  God is doing great things for, in, and through us.  God celebrates with us this day, and also throws us back in the saddle as we take on the mantle of being called to seek and serve Christ, and strengthen this community into a community of belonging, believing, and becoming.  I am confident in what God is doing through us, and I encouraged by the witness of each person in this room, and I am emboldened by the activity of the Holy Spirit working in us to witness Christ’s love and light.  “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.  For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.  …you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you…”   Amen.

Sermon – John 20.1-18, ED, YB, April 1, 2018

Tags

affirmation, called, church, Easter, encouragement, gift, joy, known, Mary Magdalene, name, reason, Sermon, share

Last weekend, before Holy Week started, our family celebrated my youngest’s fourth birthday.  A dear friend was there and asked me how I was doing, knowing full well that Holy Week and Easter were coming.  I launched into a diatribe about all the things I was juggling – birthday party, work commitments, packing for Spring Break, and the pressures of writing an Easter sermon.  The last complaint caught her attention.  “You’re worried about an Easter sermon?” she asked.  “Oh, yes!” I explained.  “It’s a big day.  The sermon needs to be good!”  She looked at me, dumbfounded, and said to me, in a way that only a best friend can, “You know nobody comes to church on Easter because of the sermon.”

Now as a preacher, you can imagine my ego was a little bruised.  But the more I thought about her observation, the more I realized she was right.  We come to church on Easter for a whole host of reasons.  We come to church on Easter because that is what our family has always done, and the continued observation of Easter somehow connects us to the past, present, and future, creating a sense of belonging and identity.  We come to church on Easter, because we long for a good word – a reminder that even in a tumultuous world, there is the promise of resurrection life, joy, and hope.  We come to church on Easter because we love the music, the flowers, the crowded seats, the Easter attire, and the experience of being a part of community.  And some of us are not sure why we come to church on Easter, but we suspect, or at least hope, we will find something that can revive our weary souls.

I suspect what most of us are hoping for today is an experience like Mary Magdalene’s.  I am not sure Mary knew why she went to the tomb that fateful day.  In John’s gospel, Mary is not there with spices to anoint Jesus’ body.  She does not bring flowers or some memento to leave at the tomb.  In fact, she comes to the tomb in darkness, before the morning light has arisen, perhaps in a fog of knowing she needs something but not sure what that something might be.  And then, not unlike the chaos that may have been your morning to get here on time and half-way presentable, Mary’s life gets thrown into chaos.  An empty tomb means she and the disciples run around like chickens with their heads cut off.  Later, Mary finds herself bemoaning to angels and a stranger alike that she just wants Jesus’ body – a physical reminder of all the horror and love and pain that has happened.  And in the midst of this chaos, a simple, profound thing happens.  Mary is called by her name.[i]  And her world gets turned on its head.

There is something very powerful about being called by your name.  We will frequent restaurants or coffee shops because we love being recognized by name by our favorite barista or shop owner.  If you have ever received a blessing or healing prayer by a person who knew your name, you know the intimacy that is created between the two of you, and the power of hearing your name lifted up to God.  We even try to use nametags here at Hickory Neck because we know how wonderful being known by name feels.  Being known by name creates a feeling of acceptance, affirmation, affection, and acknowledgement.[ii]  I can only imagine the rush of emotions when Jesus calls Mary by name today – not just the recognition of who Jesus is, but the reminder of how much he has loved her.

I suspect we should add that to the list of reasons why we come to church on Easter Sunday.  We want to be known too.  Perhaps we want to literally be called by name.  But perhaps we know just being here creates the same sense of belonging that being known by name creates.  When we sit in these seats today, we know that we are sitting next to someone who is longing for belonging today too – who also rallied to get to church on time – maybe with kids in cute dresses, or maybe just pulling their aching bodies to church.  When we sit in the seats today, we know that we are surrounded by a group of people who also love having their senses overwhelmed – from the smell of fragrant lilies, to the joyous sound of song [brass], to the taste of communion bread and wine, to the sight of fanfare and smiles, to the feel of another hand at the peace.  When we sit in these seats today, we know that we will be offered a word of joy, light, love, hope – and we want our lives to be marked by that same sense of promise.

Now you may feel tempted today to take all that affirmation, encouragement, and joy, and go about the next days on your own personal high – as though the gifts you receive today are solely for you.  But what all this fanfare, acknowledgment, and hope are meant to do is to propel you out into the world.  When Mary is called by name, receiving the blessing of recognition and encouragement, she does not stay at the feet of the resurrected Jesus.  She becomes John’s gospel’s first preacher.  “I have seen the Lord,” Mary says to the disciples.  Now I know some of you will go out from this place today and do just that – you will put on your Facebook page, “Alleluia, Christ is Risen!” or you will hug your neighbor and tell them what a joyous day you just had at church.  But for others of you, sharing today’s joy may take you a little more time, or may look a bit different than proclaiming, “I have seen the Lord,” to your favorite barista.  But what Mary invites us to do today is find our own way of sharing the beautiful gift we receive today – to give someone else the gift of joy and hope, to quietly tell a friend what a cool experience this day was, or to simply call someone else by name – sharing that same sense of belonging and affirmation you receive today.   You came to church this Easter Sunday for something.  Mary invites you to give that something to someone else.  Amen.  Alleluia!

[i] Serene Jones, “Theological Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), 378.

[ii] D. Cameron Murchison, “Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), 380.

On Parenting and Other Failures…

Tags

children, Christian, disciple, encouragement, failure, faith, faithful, God, hope, Jesus, love, parent, parenting, Peter

I have never really thought of myself as a very good parent.  I am constantly finding myself in the midst of parenting and thinking, “I really could be handling this much better.”  In looking back, I can see countless ways in which I escalated a situation instead of deescalated, in which I got stuck in wanting control instead of fostering independence, or in which I simply lost my cool.  Parenting sometimes brings out the worst in me, and on the really bad days, I feel like I am failing pretty miserably at the whole endeavor.

I feel that way about my faith sometimes too.  I know all the ways I am called to serve God and to be a faithful disciple.  But I often find myself failing.  For as many times as I can be like an insightful Peter, more often I am like the Peter who is sinking into the sea, trying to control what Jesus does, or putting myself in front of the gospel.  Reading about modern saints, or people who are making a difference with their life only makes me more aware of my many failings to live as a faithful Christian.

The good news is that children, and other people, often give us glimpses of hope and encouragement.  The other day, I was stirring from a nap with my youngest (who refuses to nap now unless you nap with her).  As she was waking up, she smiled at me and said, “You can be my best friend, Mommy.”  A few nights ago, my oldest requested to start using the same shampoo, conditioner, and soap that I use, instead of her 3-in-1 tear-free wash we have been using.  I sighed out of irritation, and asked her why.  She said, “Because I want to be like you, Mommy.  Except for your short hair!”

I laughed on both occasions, but both comments reminded me that for all the times I fail, there is still love.  For all the ways in which I mess up this parenting thing, there are glimpses of times when I managed to get it a tiny bit right.  I think the same is true for our faith life.  For all the ways we are horribly imperfect, we also have glimpses of powerful faithfulness.  I encourage you to listen to those around you to hear those little comments that will encourage you on your journey.  And then I invite you to straighten up, take a deep breath, and get back in there.  God is doing amazing things through you.  I can’t wait to hear all about it!!

Photo credit:  www.quoteambition.com/best-encouraging-quotes-words-encouragement/

Gratitude and Giving

Tags

church, community, encouragement, faith, giving, God, gratitude, pledging, prayer, spiritual, stewardship, upheaval

This week we begin a series of guest blog posts by parishioners at the Episcopal Church of St. Margaret in Plainview, NY.  They are reflecting on what stewardship means to them, and how God the Giver has been a part of their lives.  Our first guest post is from parishioner Phil Russo.

I am grateful for many blessings in my life but most recently I find my gratitude rooted in the support my family has received during times of adversity.  Over the course of the past two years I have encountered two sudden and unexpected upheavals.  The first involved my mom suddenly falling ill, resulting in a long hospital stay, with series of setback after setback.  As we began to grasp the reality and gravity of the situation, my family and I founds ourselves sitting in a hospice facility knowing that the end was near.

Photo credit: http://newmanec.com/parish/prayers/

The second upheaval was even more unexpected and impactful, as my wife Nancy fell seriously ill.  It turned our life upside down as we faced surgery, treatments, and adjusting to a new normal striving to get our lives back.  During both of these ordeals, I found myself praying more often, asking God for help.  At times I labored in trying to understand why these things were happening to me and my family.  As many of you know, these kinds of things can test your faith.  One constant source of support and comfort was knowing that we had a church family at St. Margaret’s praying for us, pulling for us and reaching out with words of encouragement.

St. Margaret’s for me has always been a kind of spiritual anchor, a kind of home base for me and my family in our faith journey.  It made us feel good to be part such a caring church community.  It also underlined the importance of having a spiritual support base to lean on in time of need.  I am grateful and blessed to be part of the St. Margaret’s family.  It just seems logical for me to start from a place of gratitude when I consider my thoughts about Stewardship and pledging financial support.

I am also grateful that I have gotten involved in some of the business aspects that go into keeping St. Margaret’s running.  Unfortunately, St. Margaret’s pledges do not cover expenses and we operate at a loss.  This is not sustainable.  This is an inconvenient truth that many do not realize or may choose to treat with indifference or leave to others to deal with.  It will eventually cause us to make difficult decisions and possibly cut programs near and dear to many.  Therefore, I find it helpful to keep these facts in mind as I consider my annual pledge.  It always starts with gratitude but it is also grounded in an understanding of the financial side of St. Margaret’s.

Submitted by Phil Russo.

Embracing joy…

Tags

Christ, church, constructive criticism, encouragement, faithful, health, Holy Spirit, improvement, joy, review, servant

Our Vestry and Parish just completed a Mutual Ministry Review – a time to reflect on the health of our congregation and to strategize about how to move toward greater health and wholeness.  There was a lot of positive feedback in the survey indicating the ways in which we have grown and changed for the better in the last three years of ministry together.  And of course, there was plenty of constructive criticism about what we can do to make our ministry together better.  Some of the feedback included things we could do quite easily, and some of the feedback will take longer to address.  But the Vestry was energized to make those changes and move toward wholeness.

Like with any feedback though, we quickly lost sight of all that is going well.  We lingered only for a moment on the good and positive work God is fostering among us, and we immediately dug in with the work we needed to do to improve.  Although I am super proud of our Vestry’s desire to dig in and do some of the dirty work of improvement, I want to take a moment to remind our whole parish of the need to prayerfully lift up the goodness in our midst.  Without being rooted in gratitude for all the goodness God has brought us, my fear is that we will be overwhelmed by the burden of improvement and not steadied by the encouragement of the Holy Spirit.

I was reminded of that lesson this Sunday.  This Sunday the Vestry started working on prioritizing our improvement work and making goals and deadlines for ourselves.  The work is important and necessary, but I must admit our spirits were a bit heavy.  But just thirty minutes before our meeting, in the context of worship, we honored all of our children and teachers who had participated in Sunday School, Rite 13, and Adult Formation this program year.  The transept was overflowing with people.  Because we use a rotation model for Sunday School, we had over 10 teachers and shepherds this year.  We had three teachers for Rite 13, and five teachers for adult formation.  For a parish with a relatively small average Sunday attendance, those numbers are tremendous.  And that does not include all the children who were present!  It was a glorious sight and a testimony to the good work we are doing to form us into a community that is seeking Christ.  Well done, good and faithful servants!!

Photo credit: http://urfamilies.org/full-of-joy-in-the-lord/

My encouragement to all of us this week is to hold on to that moment.  Hold on to that image of a full transept of people who have spent the last year deepening their relationship with Christ, and marvel at the good work that the Spirit is doing at St. Margaret’s.  And give yourselves a pat on the back for the ways in which you have committed yourselves to being faithful builders of the Kingdom of God.  There will always be work to do, but my hope is that we can see the joy behind the work we do.  Because there is a lot to be joyful about!