Sermon – Leviticus 19.1-2, 15-18, Matthew 22.34-46, P25, YA, October 25, 2020

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Bible, election, faith, generosity, giving, God, image of God, Jesus, Leviticus, love, neighbor, pandemic, relationship with God, Sermon

This summer when we were doing our 90-Day Bible Challenge, many of our readers dreaded reading Leviticus.  We read all the fun stories of Genesis and Exodus, and then for chapter after chapter of Leviticus we had to read about how to make sacrifices, what numerical formula to use for different kinds of worship of God, the differences between burnt offerings, grain offerings, fellowship offerings, sin offerings, guilt offerings.  All the momentum of reading came to a screeching halt.  In fact, a seminarian once said of Leviticus, “I never realized I could fall asleep on a treadmill until I did so while trying to read Leviticus.”[i]

For the most part, our wariness of Leviticus is warranted.  But the reading we get from Leviticus today is from the chapter that likely helps us understand why all the other monotony is so important.  You see Leviticus focuses on how to be in right relationship with God.  All those repetitive instructions are meant to do what our reading today finally gets to:  to tell us we can be holy because God is holy.  All those instructions about worship are meant to enrich our relationship with God – to help us see what being holy before the Holy One looks like.  But this particular chapter does not just focus on that vertical relationship with God.  Chapter nineteen of Leviticus introduces something new – our horizontal relationship with one another.  You shall love your neighbor as yourself.  This too is what holiness looks like.

Of course, this should sound familiar.  In our gospel lesson today, when Jesus is asked what commandment is the greatest, Jesus pulls from his Jewish roots and the lessons of Hebrew Scriptures.  “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind,” a text straight out of Deuteronomy, and, he says, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” a text straight out the Leviticus text we read today.  As people of faith, we balance the vertical and the horizontal – one cannot be true, full, or authentic to one without the other. 

That concept is so simple, our eyes can begin to glaze over like all readers of Leviticus.  Love God, and love neighbor – got it!  Simple enough.  But there is nothing simple about this summary of the law and prophets.  All we need to do is look around us and see how hard these commands are.  Seven months into a pandemic, with cases rising again, our nation in political upheaval around issues of racial injustice, and a national election that has us so divided we cannot even conceive of loving anyone who advocates for the “other” candidate – whichever the other one is for you.  With each passing month of this pandemic, coming to God in reverence and praise sometimes feels impossible because all we feel is anger, frustration, and fatigue towards God – not holiness.  And forget about loving our neighbors – unless, of course, we mean loving our neighbors who agree with us, who are willing to bash the other side with us, who have done enough discernment to know our political position is the holy one.  As each day gets us closer to this election, Leviticus’ words about not slandering others, not seeking vengeance or bearing grudges, makes loving all our neighbors seem impossible.

So what do we do?  With all these feelings of impossible holiness, do we give up or stop trying?  In facing these feelings, Barbara Brown Taylor says, “Made in the image of God, human beings share in God’s holiness.  God has placed within them what they need to do God’s will.  God has furthermore placed them in communities of support, giving them teachings to guide them in their life together.  Wherever sinfulness comes from and whatever drives [sinfulness], [sinfulness] is less fundamental to human nature than holiness.  People can be sinful, but the Lord their God is not sinful.  People can be holy, for the Lord their God is holy.”[ii]   All the things that feel impossible now – loving God fully (despite our misgivings) and loving our neighbors fully (the ones we actually love and the ones we love to hate) is possible because we are made in the image of God – we share in God’s holiness.

I think that is why I am so grateful we are in stewardship season right now.  As we gather financial commitment cards today, we are claiming something about the resources God has given us.  We are taking our resources and investing them in our vertical relationship with God and our horizontal relationship with one another and our neighbors beyond these walls.  We commit to giving not because we are capable of generosity alone – we give because our God and this community inspire faith-filled generosity.  We look at a world that seems impossibly flawed and messy and say, “Yes.  I am holy because the Lord my God is holy.  My giving is a sign of my sharing in God’s holiness.”  Giving may not feel easy in this time of upheaval, in this time of economic turmoil, but giving is our way of saying, “I cannot do this alone, but with this community I am committing to faith-filled generosity.  I trust Hickory Neck will walk with me as I claim my holiness.”  Even though we are scattered, even though some of us are visiting this campus today, either for a quick drive-thru or a full service, and some of us cannot be here until a vaccine is available, we celebrate the holiness of one another today, the holiness of our God, and the holiness of our neighbors – all our neighbors.  Only in seeing that holiness can we be liberated to live lives of faith-filled generosity.  Amen.

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[i] Kathryn M. Schifferdecker, “Commentary on Leviticus 19:1-2, 15-18,” October 25, 2020, as found at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4626 on October 22, 2020.

[ii] Barbara Brown Taylor, “Homiletical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year A, Volume 4 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2011), 195, 197.

On Cars and Change…

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car, change, God, grief, Holy Spirit, ideas, life, new, old, relationship with God, sad, season, time

Photo credit:  https://orlandoespinosa.wordpress.com/2015/12/09/to-everything/

This weekend we got a new car and traded in my old car.  My old car was fifteen years old and had almost 180,000 miles.  We would have kept the car longer, but there were too many expensive fixes to make repairing the car worth the car’s value.  Normally, people get pretty excited about a new car – all the old dents and scratches are gone, and in my case, I can now be certain I won’t be break down on the highway.  But mostly I have been a bit sad about having to get rid of the old car.  That car helped us get through three rounds of graduate school, four moves, multiple jobs, the birth of two children, and was only six months younger than our marriage.  The car survived endless road trips, commutes to work, and at one point was our shared car until we got a second car.  Although the car had started making me anxious with all its repair needs, I felt like I was saying goodbye to a good, faithful friend.

As I have been reflecting on that experience, I have been thinking my experience with my old and new car is similar to how we all experience change.  Most of us know that change in inevitable, and yet most of us do not like change.  Even if the thing we are changing from is good for us, we miss the old quirks, patterns, and sense of regularity.  And the further out of the familiar we get, the more epic the memory of what once was becomes.  This is often the point at which people begin to refer to the “good ol’ days,” or “the way things used to be.”  Whatever the new change is will rarely seem as good as the old standard.

I have been feeling that way about my new car.  Sure, it is more reliable, it has fewer things peeling, sagging, or just broken, and it is more sporty, shiny, and colorful.  But I am finding I am not yet sold.  The new car just does not feel like it fits yet.  Observing my feelings about my car has been especially helpful for me as I think about all the times I have introduced change at church.  Sure, whatever changes I have introduced are usually for the good, and most often, become the new “way we have always done it.”  But falling in love with the new change takes time.  It does not happen overnight.

Perhaps this may be a good way we can approach our relationship with God.  The Holy Spirit is God’s agent of change.  She is always whispering new ideas, blowing new people into our lives, and breathing life into our imaginations.  Listening to the movement of the Holy Spirit is exciting, fun, and invigorating.  But boldly following the Holy Spirit also needs to involve tending to the grief of letting go of the what the Spirit was doing before.  The writer of Ecclesiastes says, “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.”  I wonder what seasons are passing away in your life, and what new times are arriving for you.  My prayer for you is that you be able to appreciate the season you are in, let go of the seasons that have passed, and embrace the seasons that are yet to come.  I know the Holy Spirit is doing good things in you.  I cannot wait to walk with you in the twists and turns!

Advent Clearing…

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Advent, God, Hurricane Sandy, relationship with God, song, spiritual journey

One of the constant sounds here on Long Island since “Superstorm Sandy” is the sound of chainsaws.  The sound is so constant that the hum of the chainsaws has almost become white noise…almost.  The noise is not quite soothing enough to truly be white noise.  Instead it is a humming reminder of all the work still left to be done here.  As we slowly try to clear the property around our homes and businesses, the work seems endless.  Piles of stacked wood along the roads demonstrate signs of progress, but there are still roads that are occasionally closed as work crews continue clearing what looks like a dropped box of toothpicks.

I wonder if that constant hum might be our Advent theme song this year.  We too need to clear out the debris of our lives that keeps us from connecting to God.  This past Sunday, John the Baptist called us to “Prepare the way for the LORD’s coming!  Clear the road for him!”  (New Living Translation)  Our Advent time of preparation can be a time of clearing out what is keeping us away from God.  Whether our debris is the rapid pace of life, the to-do list (that conveniently does not include prayer), or our own self-centeredness, we all have debris that blocks our path to God.

Clearing debris is not easy work, and does not come naturally.  In fact, our more natural state is to keep the debris in place so as to avoid true intimacy with God.  That is why an Advent theme song is helpful.  We need the din of humming chainsaws to pull us back into the work of clearing debris.  Or perhaps you prefer an actual hymn as your theme song.  Personally, I love Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence.  Or maybe your Advent calendar or devotions are your theme song this year.  Whatever brings you back to the work of clearing debris, working your way closer to a deeper relationship with God is what might make this Advent sacred for you.  Crank up the music, and continue to enjoy a blessed Advent!

Homily – Romans 10.8b-18, Feast of St. Andrew the Apostle, November 29, 2012

Tags

discipleship, evangelism, proclamation, relationship with God, Sermon, St. Andrew

I lead a weekly Eucharist on Thursdays at St. Margaret’s.  The service is a short, spoken service, and my homilies are brief reflections on the saint or feast appointed for the day.  I do not usually write out these homilies, but instead outline my thoughts.  Last week a parishioner felt like it was a “waste of gems,” for me not to publish them on the blog too.  So, she is helping me type up my outlines, and I will try to start posting them here.  They are obviously less formulated than my sermons and will read a bit like an outline, but perhaps they will feed your spiritual journey.  Enjoy this first installment from the Feast of St. Andrew the Apostle.

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But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed?  And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard?  And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him?  And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent?

When we lament the shrinking church, we often forget one or more of these four steps.  In reverse order, the steps are a little clearer:  People have to be sent in order to proclaim;   Others cannot hear without proclamation; If others don’t hear, they can’t believe; and unless they believe, they cannot call on God.  Sending.  Proclaiming.  Belief.  Relationship with God.

Some of us stop at sending.  Church sends us out every Sunday, but we quickly move on to the next thing.  Some of us stop at proclaiming – we might invite others to church, but proclaiming sounds way too scary.  Others stop at belief.  We might be able to talk about our faith, but we can’t imagine being responsible for someone else’s belief.  Finally, we might convince someone to believe, but we can’t force them to have a relationship with God.

Today we celebrate Andrew the Apostle.  Andrew had every reason to avoid these steps, too.  Often he is simply known as Peter’s brother.  Andrew is not a part of the inner circle, which included Peter, James, and John.  Andrew could easily have left the work of going, proclaiming, and creating disciples to the others, just keeping his faith to himself.

What Andrew shows us is that everyone can be a disciple and evangelist.  We simply need:

1. A willingness to respond.  Matthew says Andrew immediately leaves his nets and follows Jesus when he calls;
2. A willingness to hear.  John says that Andrew had been John the Baptist’s disciple, and when John the Baptist proclaimed Jesus the Lamb of God, Andrew switched camps;
3. A willingness to share the Good News.  John says Andrew’s first act after following Jesus is to go get his brother and bring him to Jesus.

Andrew is just a regular guy doing the work of proclamation!

Andrew teaches us today that we can all be evangelists.  Now I know how we hate that word and even the concept of evangelism, but Andrew makes it simple.  Go into the world, proclaim (tell your God story), encourage belief (you believe – it must be important enough to share), and foster a relationship with God (don’t stop talking – all your life is a witness to others that can foster others’ relationships with Christ).

Being an evangelist is all of this work, and the work really isn’t all that scary.  As Paul says, “The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart.”