On Seeing Sacred Moments…

Tags

blessing, church, compassion, fellowship, God, holy, laughter, light, love, moment, outreach, sacred, support, witness, work

In general, my children are pretty typical in many ways – they have their good days and their bad days.  They tattle on each other, try to sneak in a hit or shove, and one will occasionally shout how she “hates her life.”  But then, every once in a while, totally unprompted and seemingly “out of sight,” I will overhear the love, care, and affection they have for one another.  One child will walk over the other who is crying, and she will give a hug and offer reassuring words.  Or the two children will gleefully play with one another without arguing or fussing.  Or best of all, I will hear them laughing pure, innocent laughs together.  In these holy moments, they show me the light of God’s presence, and reveal their best qualities – that they are individuals full of love and compassion.

These last few weeks at our church, I feel like I have been able to see similar holy moments.  We are preparing for our Annual Fall Festival, from which all the proceeds go to support local ministries.  As we lead up to the event, I have seen countless tasks being done by parishioners:  from making up food order forms and staffing tables for pre-orders, from cleaning out closets to pricing and sorting donations, from recruiting donations from local businesses to developing the silent auction booklet, from breaking down our worship space to setting up parking space.  As the weeks and days have gotten closer to our festival, I have seen hard work, commitments of time, generosity of spirit, and joy in participation.  Most of the work could go unnoticed; even those of us who volunteer do not always see all the other work that is happening somewhere else.

But today, I want to say, “I see you.”  I see you, Hickory Neck, giving your cherished time to support the church.  I see you, sharing in fellowship as you work together on projects.  I see you, passionate about your neighbors in need and working a little bit harder.  I see you in holy moments, individually and collectively, and I am so proud of you.  Your laughter together is a sweet, sacred sound.  Your labor is a witness to me and to our community of God’s abundant love for all.  Well done, good and faithful servants!  You are a blessing!!

Photo credit:  food.ndtv.com/health/10-surprising-health-benefits-of-laughter-1464095

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Sermon – John 14.15-21, E6, YA, May 21, 2017

Tags

abide, Advocate, Bible Study, hard, Holy Spirit, Jesus, love, Paraclete, promise, relationship, separation, Sermon, sin, work

If you could have any person, living or dead, over for dinner, who would it be?  We have all played the game.  Either you were asked the question at a job interview, you used the question as part of an icebreaker, or you shared the question at the family dinner table as a conversation starter.  The answers are always telling – some would like to have dinner with their favorite celebrity or sports hero; some would love to talk to a famous figure in history, like Martin Luther King, Jr. or Abraham Lincoln; while others would want to have dinner one more time with a loved one who has died.  Invariably, though, someone will give the answer we all get to eventually.  If we could have dinner with any person, dead or alive, we would want to have dinner with Jesus.  We could finally ask Jesus all the answers to our questions!  We could ask Jesus what that one parable means that we can never figure out.  We could ask Jesus what death and eternal life are like.  We could ask Jesus why things are the way they are today and what he plans on doing about them!  The options are endless and the gift of that time with Jesus seems like the gift a magic decoder ring for life.

Except, I am not sure that dinner with Jesus is the best answer to that age-old question about dinner guests.  If you remember, Jesus was not always the easiest to understand.[i]  Think about all those parables that no one understood.  Think about all those times Jesus said something to the disciples that they could not comprehend.  Think about all those times that Jesus was challenged by Pharisees, foreigners, and faithful alike, only to get cryptic, unexpected answers.  Though we like to think we would have understood better than all of those, I suspect that even a modern-day dinner with Jesus would leave us with way more questions than answers.

That’s why I love our gospel passage today.  Jesus is preparing to leave his beloved disciples.  He has gathered them for a last meal, has washed their feet, and is sharing with them all his last instructions and words of wisdom.  The anxiety of his disciples is rising as they start to piece together how Jesus is giving what we now call his “Farewell Address.”  To those anxious, confused, uncertain disciples, Jesus offers a promise.  Jesus says, “I will not leave you orphaned.”  Instead, Jesus will send the Advocate.  Actually, he says, God will send, “another Advocate, to be with you forever.”  The first Advocate is Jesus himself.[ii]  Unlike Jesus, who is limited by time and space, the next Advocate will be with us forever.  The text tells us that the Advocate will abide in us – will actually be in us.  That word, “Advocate,” is alternatively translated as “counselor, comforter, helper, mediator, or broker.”[iii]  The word in Greek is Parakletos or Paraclete, which literally means “to call alongside.”  This Holy Spirit, this second Advocate, is the one who is called to be alongside us.[iv]

In just a couple of weeks we will celebrate the fulfillment of Jesus’ promise today.  The celebration of Pentecost is a significant feast for us because what Jesus promises in his Farewell Address finally comes to fruition.  Not only does the Spirit fill for us a spiritual need, the Spirit also fills for us a practical need.  You see, throughout his final instructions, through both word and deed, Jesus gives the disciples one final instruction – to love.  Jesus wants his followers to embrace, “not an abstract philosophical concept, but the lived reality revealed in the life, relationships, and actions of a simple Nazarene who looks and talks like them and lives simply among them.”[v]

This past week, our Tuesday night Bible Study group invited a Bible Study group from New Zion Baptist Church to join us for a mutual Bible Study.  After having talked quite a lot about race relations here at Hickory Neck, and having watched our country struggle with race, our Bible Study group decided the best thing they could do was to start building relationships with people of color.  Intentionally or not, the group selected 1 Corinthians 13 as their text for study.  Most of you who have been to a wedding will know this text by heart.  “Love is patient, love is kind…”  On and on we hear Paul talk about the characteristics of love – how love is not envious, boastful, or rude; how love does not insist on its own way, and is not irritable or resentful.”  Just like with a wedding, on the surface, the text was quite romantic for what we were trying to do – talk about loving each other and how we could do that as two different communities.  But what we realized as we studied and reflected on the text is the more we talked about love, the less romantic love felt.  Quite the opposite, we realized the love we Christians are called into is hard work.  We talked about how hard being patient and kind are.  We talked about how hard not being irritable or resentful can be, and how often we insist on our own way.  What seemed like a simple text for a simple gathering – an interracial Bible Study on love, suddenly felt anything but simple.  As we shared our stories, we realized not only did we have a massive amount of work to do on ourselves, we would also have a massive amount of work to do if we were even going to attempt to love each other.

That is why Jesus’ promise today, the promise of the one who comes alongside of us, is so incredibly powerful.  Because if the disciples recall the ways that Jesus feeds the hungry, touches lepers, heals the sick, speaks and acts with care and regard toward women, shows compassion and fiercely protests against injustice,[vi] and then realize that Jesus wants them to do the same in his absence, they could indeed become overwhelmed.  They cannot even seem to get through Jesus’ farewell address without one disciple departing to betray him, and the promise of another disciple who will deny him.  How in the world will they manage to master the simple and yet enormous work of love?!?

Toward the end of our Bible Study, as we became more and more sober about the enormity and humbling nature of living a life of love, someone finally stood up and said something quite simple.  He confessed he did not have any answers and perhaps was not sure he could do what Jesus would want for us.  But what he would do is go and have coffee with anyone who was willing.  That’s all.  Coffee.  It was a simple offer, and maybe seemed like nothing on the surface.  But that offer of coffee was profound.  In that offer was an unspoken confession of sin and separation, and a commitment to turn toward love and relationship.  After over an hour of talking about love, that offer of coffee was a commitment to not just talk about love, but to act on love.

I believe the ability of that parishioner to offer coffee came because the Paraclete, the Advocate, the Spirit was abiding in him.  Jesus had not left him an orphan.  Jesus sent another Advocate who empowered him to be an agent of love.  That is the power of the gospel today.  We will never likely get that dinner with Jesus, even though I am not convinced that dinner would help us anyway.  But we do get dinner with the Spirit – everyday, offering us God’s presence and spirit of truth, empowering us to be agents of love.  We get a dinner with our Advocate, who invites us to pull up another chair, so that we can share that love with our neighbor – one coffee at a time.  Amen.

[i] N. T. Wright, John for Everyone, Part 2 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2004), 63.

[ii] Linda Lee Clader, “Homiletical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 491.

[iii] Larry D. Bouchard, “Theological Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 492.

[iv] Karoline M. Lewis, John:  Fortress Biblical Preaching Commentaries (Minneapolis:  Fortress Press, 2014), 191.

[v] Nancy J. Ramsay, “Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 492.

[vi] Ramsay, 492.

Sermon – Luke 17.5-10, 2 Timothy 1.1-14, P22, YC, October 2, 2016

Tags

apostles, belief, Episcopal, faith, God, head, heart, heritage, identity, increase, Jesus, mothers, pastoral, Sermon, struggle, Timothy, work

One of the funny things about wearing a priestly collar in public is that people tend to tell you way more about their lives than perhaps they should.  As soon as a person realizes you are a priest, the flood gates open and all of a sudden you are the guest on the “Everything You Always Wanted to Know about Church But Were Afraid to Ask!” Show.  I get questions about how one becomes a priest, what being an Episcopalian means, and what kind of Christian I am.  But mostly I get confessions.  People will confess they used to go to church, but once they became an adult, they had a hard time believing everything the church taught them as a child.  People will confess that they were raised in the church, but when a terrible tragedy hit, they felt abandoned by God and could never go back.  People will confess that they miss going to church, but that they always feel like they do not belong when the go to church – that everyone in the church seems to have their lives figured out except them.

What is interesting to me about those conversations with non-church goers or lapsed Christians is that they seem to think that their struggles with faith make them ineligible for church membership.  Perhaps that is true in some denominations in our country.  But one of the primary reason I became an Episcopalian was because the Episcopal Church not only made room for faith struggles, but expected those struggles.  Almost every time I have raised a question about a Biblical text in Bible Study, instead of someone explaining the answer to me, the response is almost always, “Yeah, that is a hard piece of scripture.”  Almost every time I have been with a grieving family who is on the brink of questioning their faith, no one in the room challenges them.  Usually someone says, “I could totally see how you would be doubting God right now.”  And almost every time I have been in a class about theology, the creeds, confirmation, or baptism, someone has asked, “What if I can’t believe that part.”  Never once has that person been told they do not belong if they cannot believe – in fact, usually the person is praised for naming the lack of faith we have all have had at some point in our spiritual journey.

I think that is why today’s Gospel lesson feels so real.  The disciples and apostles have been following Jesus for weeks, and Jesus has been handing them a lot of heavy stuff.  Jesus has told them to give up their possessions, to forgive those who wrong them, to take up their cross.  I cannot imagine anyone looking at the stark life Jesus describes and not calling out, “Increase our faith!”  How else can we be all Jesus wants us to be without increasing our faith?  Surely we have all had those trough moments – in the face of our mortality, at the betrayal of a friend or spouse, in the midst of anxiety and stress – when we too cry out to God, “Increase our faith!”

What might be helpful to do is talk a little about what we mean when we say faith.  Marcus Borg talks about two different kinds of faith:  faith of the head and faith of the heart.  Faith of the head is claiming something about God or the human condition.  This kind of faith is more about what we believe.  When someone says they have lost their faith, they have often lost this faith of the head.  They no longer believe something taught by holy scripture or the church.  In the Episcopal Church, we do not get too upset about this kind of faith struggle.  Instead, we see faith as ever evolving and growing.  Questions are at the root of a deep, mature faith.  Borg would argue that God cares very little about what beliefs are in our heads – if we believe the right things.  Borg knows that you can believe all the right things and still be in bondage, because, “Believing a set of claims to be true has very little transforming power.”[i]

Unlike faith of the head, faith of the heart is a little different, according to Borg.  Faith of the heart is characterized by three things:  trust, fidelity, and vision.  To have faith of the heart is to put a radical trust in God – to rely on God for grounding and safety.  Faith of the heart is also characterized by fidelity – an understanding that we will be faithful in our relationship with God and God with us.  Faith of the heart is finally characterized by vision – a belief that reality is life-giving and nourishing instead of threatening or hostile.  “To live in faith requires ‘a radical centering (of our lives) in God that leads to a deepening trust that transforms the way we see and live our lives.’”[ii]  So when the disciples ask Jesus to increase their faith, they are not necessarily asking Jesus to help them believe certain statements about God to be true (that faith of the head).  Instead, they are asking for faith of the heart – to get help in trusting God, remaining faithful in their relationship with God, and seeing life as God-given and gracious.

Now one would hope that Jesus would hear this request from the disciples and come back with a loving response – a pastoral word of encouragement that makes them feel affirmed in their fears and doubts.  Unfortunately, that is not what Jesus does at all today.  Instead he tells an abrasive story about masters and servants, which is basically Jesus’ way of saying, “You want your faith to increase?  Then get out there and do the work you have been given to do.”  Instead of assuring and coddling the disciples, Jesus sounds more like that old Nike ad that says, “Just do it!”

I do not know about you, but Jesus’ words are not all that comforting today.  I have sat with someone who is overwhelmed by the disappointments of life, and never once did it occur to me to tell them to just go out there and do the work they have been given to do.  I have counseled people who are facing death, divorce, job loss, or shame, and I have not told a single one of them to stop complaining and just get back out in the world doing what God has called them to do.  I myself have had moments when God felt absent, and I probably would have deemed any counsel to “Just do it!” as insensitive or unfair – to just trust that God is there anyway and get back to work.  Where are we supposed to find the strength to be faithful – to trust, to be loyal, to hold on to the vision of God’s goodness – when we feel completely unable to “Just do it!”?

As I struggled with Jesus’ harshness today, I remembered Paul’s second letter to Timothy.  Paul says to Timothy, “I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.”  Paul’s words this week help me see how we get back to the work Jesus wants us to do.  In Paul’s encouragement, he is confident that Timothy can “Just do it!” because he knows Timothy’s identity.  Timothy is the grandson of Lois and the son of Eunice.  These women have taught him everything he knows about Jesus.  They have been through the depths of despair themselves, and yet they are faithful witnesses of God.  Timothy is not just a man fighting for faith – Timothy is known by God, and comes from a long line of people who have walked with God.  Timothy’s heritage is a heritage of people who have gone before, who have shown him the way through their lives, and who have encouraged him.  Now, you may be thinking, “Yeah, except my Grandma was a Southern Baptist who disagrees with what I believe, or my Mom stopped going to church ages ago.”  Whether biological or not, we all have grandmothers and mothers of our faith.   Maybe they are friends or fellow parishioners.  Or maybe those mothers and grandmothers are the matriarchs of our faith.  Regardless, we are all rooted in something bigger than us – something with much deeper roots that can ground us when we feel like we are flailing in our faith.

When I first read our gospel lesson this week, I thought we had been cursed with the wrong lessons – especially for those of you who brought friends today.  But the more the lessons unfolded, the more I realized they might be the perfect lessons.  We all struggle with faith – certainly of the head, but more importantly of the heart.  But as Paul reminds us, we come from a long line of people who have gone before who have struggled as we do, and who leaned into their identity as beloved children of God in order to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  We are encouraged today because we have seen the fruit of “Just doing it!”  We have prayed for someone struggling this week.  We have called or visited a friend who needed encouragement this week.  We stood up to a bully this week.   We gave money to support ministry this week.  We did something seemingly inconsequential, but those small, everyday acts of faith are powerful, and they are how we answer Jesus’ call to “Just do it!” – even when we did not think we could.[iii]  Paul and the Church remind us that we can – we can do those acts of faith because we are surrounded by matriarchs and patriarchs who encourage us along the way.  We all have those moments when we just want Jesus to increase our faith.  Today we are encouraged by doing – and eventually our faith increases in spite of us.  Amen.

[i] Marcus Borg, The Heart of Christianity, 30.  Argument about Borg presented by Br. David Vryhof, “Lord, Increase our Faith!” October 7, 2007, as found at http://ssje.org/ssje/2007/10/07/lord-increase-our-faith/ on September 28, 2016.

[ii] Vryhof.

[iii] David Lose, “Pentecost 20C:  Everyday Acts of Faith,” September 26, 2016, as found at http://www.davidlose.net/2016/09/pentecost-20-c-every-day-acts-of-faith/ on September 28, 2016.

Making it Work…

Tags

blessing, challenge, choose, commitment, God, grace, hard, humility, joy, marriage, strength, widsom, work

Photo credit:  marriage.about.com/od/proposingbeingengaged/

This month, my husband and I celebrated fifteen years of marriage.  Now I know fifteen may not seem like a big deal to some – it is certainly not 25, 50, or even the 64 years that one of the couples at church is celebrating this month.  But having worked with couples in premarital counseling for several years now, having worked with couples who were struggling with the strains marriage can bring, and having talked with couples who have had failed marriages, I know that marriage is not simply a gift.  Marriage is not just something that happens.  Marriage is something you work at, that you choose everyday (even on the days you would rather not), that is constantly tested, and that needs tending and loving care.  While wedding days are lovely, they are only the first day of many days that you will have to return to the commitment you made to make it work.

That being said, marriage is also a tremendous blessing.  It can be the place where you learn about the depths of love; your capacity for forgiveness (in part, because you are forgiven so often); where you can find the most honest, if not brutal, truth; where you can laugh more deeply than you ever have because that person knows what really produces a belly laugh; where you experience affirming, life-giving sexual pleasure; and where you find abiding companionship.  When we got married fifteen years ago, I was not entirely sure how things would go.  My own parents had gotten divorced just three years before our marriage began, and part of me wondered whether marriage could be done successfully.  I am so glad I made the leap anyway because marriage has brought joys (and challenges) that I never could have imagined.

I do not often talk about marriage because I work with a variety of people in all walks of life:  people who want to be married but have not found a partner, people who have lost their spouse to death, people who are divorced or who feel like the marriage is on the brink of failure, people who had abusive spouses, and people, who until very recently, were not allowed to be legally married.  At times, I have considered having a Valentine’s Day reaffirmation of vows celebration, as I have seen in other parishes, but shied away because I did not want anyone to think I was being insensitive to those for whom marriage is difficult.

All of that being said, my hope today is not to highlight how blissfully easy and wonderful marriage is.  Simply put, my hope is to honor how each day of marriage can be both a blessing and a challenge – and to thank God for the strength, wisdom, humility, and grace my husband and I have been given to get this far.  I pray for continued strength, wisdom, humility, and grace, as I pray for each of you on your various journeys in partnered, single, and dating life.  In the marriage liturgy of the Episcopal Church, we offer this petition at weddings.  Today, I leave it for my husband and I and all of you doing the work of marriage:  Grant that all married persons who have witnessed these vows may find their lives strengthened and their loyalties confirmed. Amen.  (BCP, 430)

 

 

Making hay…

Tags

abundance, church, enjoy, God, goodness, make hay, proverb, summer, time, work

Photo credit:  www.cattlenetwork.com/advice-and-tips/cattle-feeding/make-hay-supplies-last-through-winter

“Make hay while the sun shines.”  That has been the motto this summer at our household.  Being new to our town, we are discovering all sorts of fun things – places to go, foods to try, even a community pool to enjoy.  I suppose coming from a climate that has long, sometimes tough winters, summer in a new place has felt like an open invitation to enjoy all the goodness around us for as long as we can (even though we have heard that winters are not so bad here).

In some ways, living by that old proverb has been a ton of fun.  For those of you who know me, I can be a creature of habit – Mondays are laundry day, Fridays are pizza night, etc.  Plus, we have young children who can be quite cranky if they do not get enough sleep or who can be quite rowdy if they do not get proper nutrition (e.g. too much ice cream from the awesome homemade ice cream joint within walking distance means sugar-crazed bedtime routines).  But despite my penchant for order and predictability, I am trying to embrace the “Make hay while the sun shines” mantra because we having a lot of fun.

That proverb is embraced at church over the summer too.  In the ebb and flow of church life, the program year (September through May) is the busy time of year – more programs, more activities, and more meetings.  In the summer, people travel, kids are off on adventures, and some of us are “making hay.”  Based on that shift, one might imagine that all is quiet at church during the summer.  In fact, we too are busy “making hay.”  The program year is being planned, calendars are coming together, and groups are meeting to strategize for needs in the fall.

I am grateful for time set apart for hay making.  Parishioners at Hickory Neck are working hard so that when things kickoff in the fall, all runs smoothly.  I am grateful for the time that people are committing to the church, the creativity they are contributing, and the joy and laughter with which we do it all.  Thank you to all those contributing behind the scenes!  I am happy to be making hay with you this summer!!

Sermon – Acts 16.9-15, E6, YC, May 1, 2016

Tags

blessing, change, church, community, conversation, evangelism, God, growth, hear, Holy Spirit, listen, new, Paul, prepare, Sermon, together, work

One of the things that the Search Committee, Vestry, and I all talked about during our time of discernment was church growth.  Now church growth is a loaded topic because inherent in the conversation are a lot of assumptions.  One assumption is that we can talk about church growth without talking about change.  Many churches say they want to grow, but what they mean is that they want to find fresh meat for volunteer positions and new pledgers for the budget.  But inherent in church growth are not just bodies to fill out needs:  church growth means incorporating new people who will have new ideas, new dreams, and new ways of doing things.  The second assumption when we talk about church growth is that we can go about church growth passively.  In other words, as long as we have a good website, we have good programs, a shiny new Rector, and we are nice to people once they arrive, we will grow.  While those things are important and necessary, those things do not fully address how we get people to step on our property, how we encourage people to come back after a first visit, or how we incorporate newcomers fully into the life and ministry of the church.  The final, and my personal favorite, assumption is that church growth is done by the Rector.  The Rector can certainly help lay the foundation of a strong system of invitation, welcome, and incorporation.  But the primary way that church growth happens is through Church members inviting others to church.

All that is to say that my response to the Search Committee and Vestry went a little like this:  I am more than happy to give Hickory Neck all of the infrastructure Hickory Neck needs to grow; but Hickory Neck is going to have to work, be open to change, and get real comfortable with talking about their faith in the neighborhood.  Now I know many of you may be sitting here right now, cursing the Search Committee and Vestry for signing you up for some hard, scary work ahead.  But let me let you in on a little secret:  church growth (or evangelism, if we are feeling really sassy) is not that hard or scary.  That is the great thing about the readings from the Acts of the Apostles during Eastertide:  they are all about the growth of the church.  Last week we heard about how Peter began to understand that God was calling him to share the Good News with the gentiles.  Today, we hear about how Paul is diverted to Europe to share the Good News with the people of Macedonia.

Many of us get a little uncomfortable talking about apostles spreading the Good News because the stories about Peter and Paul seem strange and foreign.  They involve dreams or visions in which God tells them what to do.  They involve going to foreign lands to talk with strangers.  And they sometimes involve, as we will hear next week, getting arrested and sent to jail.  Most of us hear these familiar stories and assume that the stories do not really apply to us because they are historical, ancient stories.  But after the drama of being diverted to a foreign land and searching for a place to join with sympathetic people, what happens to Paul in our text today is not actually all that foreign or unrelatable.  The story tells us that on the Sabbath day, Paul and his companions go find where faithful people are gathered and simply start talking.  The text does not say that Paul gives a presentation about the merits of converting to Christianity.  The text does not say that Paul leads a worship service, with music and the holy meal.  The text simply says that Paul sits down among those gathered, and starts talking.  While Paul is talking, a woman in the group, Lydia, who we understand from the text is an independent woman of wealth[i], overhears what Paul is saying and is so compelled by what Paul says that she and her household are not only baptized, but insist that Paul and his companions come stay with her during their stay in Philippi.

Soon after I became a rector for the first time, I realized I had a lot to learn about church growth.  I read books, poured through research, and talked with experts in the field.  One of my favorite conversations about church growth was with a friend who does church consulting on growth.  In her formation, she had a professor who insisted as part of her training that she needed to go out into town and just start talking to people about Jesus.  She was terrified.  For the first few weeks of class, my friend, now a priest, lied to her professor.  Each week he would ask her how the project was going, and she would tell him that the project was going well.  Finally, the professor called her bluff and insisted that she immediately go somewhere and do her assignment.  So my friend went to a coffee shop, wrote on a piece of paper, “Talk to me about Jesus and I will buy you a cup of coffee,” and then set up her laptop in the hopes that no one would take her up on the offer.  Much to her chagrin, a patron came up to her and said, “I’ll talk to you about Jesus, but I’ll buy the coffee.”  The conversation that ensued was full of the stranger’s story – about how she used to go to church, how she still believes, how the church hurt her, but how she still misses having a church community.  My friend listened to the story, honored the stranger by acknowledging how hard her journey had been, and then did the one thing that is key when talking about church growth.  My friend acknowledged where she saw the presence of God in this stranger’s journey.  And, for good measure, my friend told her that if she ever wanted to try church again, she knew a great place that might just work.

That is the funny thing about church growth.  Church growth happens through real people having real conversations in real time.  Paul sits down with a bunch of women and starts talking.  My friend sat down with a stranger and listened and reflected back on the stranger’s journey.  That is the same invitation that I will be giving us to do over and over again in my time here at Hickory Neck:  that we start having real conversations with real people in real time.  Now I know what some of you may be thinking.  First, you may be thinking, “I cannot believe the Search Committee and Vestry decided to hire this priest who is going to make me do this!”  Second, you may be thinking, “I have no idea how to have real conversations with real people in real time!  What does she expect me to do?  Start talking to strangers at the coffee shop, on the golf course, and at the Little League game?”

Before you get too anxious, I want to give you a little piece of comfort from scripture.  In Peter’s story last week, in Paul’s story today, and in the texts coming up next week and at Pentecost, we learn that all of these encounters happen with the Holy Spirit going before, making a way for the encounter to happen.  In today’s story, Paul has no intention of going to Macedonia.  In fact, in the verses we did not read today, Paul and his crew actually had plans and made attempts to go to other places, but their plans were thwarted by the Holy Spirit.  Finally, Paul has a vision that he was supposed to go to Macedonia.[ii]  Once he and the group decide to follow that vision, everything becomes smooth.  Their travel is not thwarted, they easily find their way to Philippi, they stumble onto a group of women who are believers, and out of nowhere, just through conversations about faith, Lydia steps up and not only desires baptism, she demands that Paul and his company accept her hospitality.  That is the reality about growth:  yes, growth involves putting ourselves out there to have hard conversations, and yes, growth involves being vulnerable and uncomfortable, and yes, growth will even involve change to us personally and to our community as a whole.  But God shows us through the story of scripture, that the Holy Spirit is ever before us, making the way smooth.  When our intentions are simply to share our story, to listen to the stories of others, and to honor the ways in which God is already active and blessing us, then the rest flows smoothly.

We are probably going to be talking about church growth a lot in the years to come.  We will talk about how to grow, we will make changes that will create a strong foundation for invitation, welcome, and incorporation, and we will get out there and talk to our neighbors.  But at the heart of all that work is the promise that the Holy Spirit is ever before us, making the way smooth, calming our nerves so that God can work in spite of us, and showing us how our holy conversations will be a source of blessing to us as much as those conversations are a blessing to others.[iii]  We will do this work together:  you, me, and the Holy Spirit.  The work will be hard, scary, and beautiful.  The work will be a blessing to us all and allow us to be a blessing to this community.  We can do this work together, because the Holy Spirit goes before us.  Amen.

[i] David G. Forney, “Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 476.

[ii] Brian Peterson, “Commentary on Acts 16:9-15,” May 5, 2013, as found at http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1627 on April 27, 2016.

[iii] Peterson.

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 – Acts 9.36-43, E4, YC, April 17, 2016

Tags

charity, Dorcas, first Sunday, gestating, God, good works, health, hibernation, Hickory Neck, Holy Spirit, ministry, miracle, new life, Peter, Sermon, servant, Tabitha, work

This morning I want start with some thanksgiving.  I would like to thank the members of the Search Committee and the Vestry for being so faithful in prayerful discernment with me and the other candidates for Rector of Hickory Neck Episcopal Church.  My interactions with them gave me a sense of hope and joy about what lies ahead for us as a community of faith.  Though I know he has moved on to his next cure, I would also like to thank Henry for being such a faithful shepherd among us, especially during a time of transition and upheaval while still being new to the priesthood.  He paved the way for us to be ready for this next phase of ministry.  And finally, I would like to thank each one of you.  You have put a tremendous amount of prayer and trust into this process, and I am grateful for your support of this parish.  I am looking forward to learning about your ministries in this place and helping bolster your good work in the world.

The people of Hickory Neck are in good company today.  In our reading from Acts this morning, we hear about another faithful servant of God.  Tabitha, also known in her community by the name Dorcas, is a disciple renowned for her good works and acts of charity.  We know that she is an adept seamstress, who uses her sewing prowess to clothe the needy in her community.  We know that her witness and work are so powerful that the widows who benefit from her charity are found weeping by her deathbed.  We know that her discipleship is so profound that two men journey to a nearby town to find Peter in the hopes that he might be able to do something miraculous for the woman who was a miracle for so many others.[i]

As I prayed with Tabitha this week, I realized how many similarities her witness shares with Hickory Neck’s witness and ministry.  One of the reasons I was attracted to Hickory Neck during the discernment process was the vibrancy of ministry and the health of the congregation.  I was impressed to learn that thousands of dollars raised by your annual Fall Festival go directly to supporting local outreach ministries.  I have enjoyed hearing stories about making meals, visiting prisoners, and collecting goods for our neighbors in need.  But even more impressive to me is the desire among parishioners to do more:  to dream bigger dreams about how not only we can use our hands to more directly serve the poor, but also how we might use the gift of this property more creatively to be a living witness of the love of Jesus in our community.  What I saw in the discernment process was a church who is healthy and vibrant and who is poised for new and exciting work.

Now what is funny about all those good vibrations is that juxtaposed with that percolating vision is a community who has been treading water.  After the decline of your last rector, a shortened interim period, and making due with only an assistant, many of you have also shared with me your sense that these last few years have also been a time of getting by, but maybe not necessarily thriving.  I would never suggest that these last years have been like a death – but maybe like a time of hibernation.  Like an animal who lives off their stored up energy and fat over the winter, Hickory Neck has been getting by with the things that she learned long ago:  good worship and music, solid pastoral care and welcome, and powerful outreach ministries and educational opportunities.

Now Tabitha is not hibernating.  According to Luke’s writing in Acts, Tabitha is not just sleeping.  She becomes quite ill and dies.  Truthfully, if Tabitha had been in a deep sleep, her story might be a little easier to believe.  I do not know about you, but miracle stories like Tabitha’s are always a little strange to me.  Whether the story is the one from First Kings, where Elijah brings the son of the widow back to life after a strange ritual of laying himself over the dead boy’s body three times[ii]; or whether the story is of Jesus raising his friend Lazarus from the dead after four days in the tomb[iii]; or whether the story is this strange one where Peter prays over a dead disciple and simply says, “Tabitha, get up,” and she does, these stories always seem strange to me.  One, I do not really understand the mechanics of raising someone from the dead.  Having never seen such a miracle myself, I cannot imagine how or why such a thing happens.  Perhaps I am too jaded by modern science, but part of me just does not understand raising people from the dead.  Two, I do not understand why people are raised from the dead.  The idea sounds great in principle.  I am sure the mourning families and friends are incredibly relieved.  But, with the exception of Jesus, all of the people who are raised from the dead must have to die again eventually.  I’m not sure why people even bother.  Finally, what I really do not understand about these stories is what they mean for us today.  Though we love these biblical stories, I know plenty of people who would like to see their loved ones raised from the dead.  Many of them might even have a case based on the good works they have done, like Tabitha.  Surely people like Tabitha deserve another chance to keep making a difference in the world!

Regardless of the fact that the text does not tell us how, or why, or even why not someone else, what the text does tell us is that Tabitha is in fact dead, Peter in fact raises her from the dead, and then the alive Tabitha is presented to her people, presumably to get back to doing all the good works and charity she had been doing before – or perhaps even better works of charity.  Implicit in Peter’s words, “Tabitha, get up,” is the notion that Tabitha’s work is not done yet.  In fact, Tabitha must have even greater works to do.  God is not done with Tabitha yet.

That is what I love about this story for Hickory Neck.  God is not done with us yet either.  As I was reading up about hibernation, one of the things I learned is that some species, like polar bears, hibernate while gestating their young.  I was blown away by that realization.  Pregnancy is that time when the host is usually taking on more calories, building up muscles to prepare for the birth, and dealing with the activity of a developing fetus – especially once the kicking begins.  I cannot imagine sleeping through that whole process or storing up enough sustenance to help both bodies grow and thrive during hibernation.

But the more I thought about the hibernating polar bear, the more I realized that is exactly what has been happening with Hickory Neck.  Perhaps these last couple of years have felt like a hibernation period – a time of lower energy and output.  But I wonder if Hickory Neck is not unlike a hibernating mama polar bear.  Though we have been keeping things steady, we have also been working hard on nurturing and producing new life.  We have not been sleeping to survive a cold spell.  We have been resting to cultivate and grow new life – a new life which is about to be born.

Today, Peter’s words and actions are for us too.  The text tells us that when Peter arrives he sends everyone outside, kneels down, and prays.  We have been praying too.  We have been praying that God guide us through a time of turbulence and transition, we have been praying that Jesus nurture us during our time of hibernating, and we have been praying that the Holy Spirit help us explode with renewed energy and life.  After Peter prays, his words to Tabitha are simple, “Tabitha, get up.”  Hickory Neck has received a similar charge.  When the Holy Spirit led us to one another, we heard the same words.  “Hickory Neck, get up.”  God is not done with us yet either.  That new life we have been gestating is eager to be born in and through us.  Finally, one more thing happens in our text.  The text says, “Peter gave Tabitha his hand and helped her up.”  Though Peter’s words are unambiguous to Tabitha, Peter does not expect Tabitha to get up and get to work alone.  He offers her a hand.  The same is true for us.  Though we are charged to get up and start caring for this new life we have been nurturing, we do not do the work alone.  The Holy Spirit is reaching out to us to help guide us to our feet.  I will be reaching out my hand to each of you, but I will also need you to reach your hand out to me.  And, more importantly, we will also need to reach out our hands to those not yet in our midst, who will be a part of the new life we have been gestating.  I do not know about you, but I cannot wait to see what our new growing family looks like.  So, Hickory Neck, get up!  Amen.

[i] Stephen D. Jones, “Homiletical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 429.

[ii] 1 Kings 17.17-24

[iii] John 11.1-44

On Fault and Forgiveness…

Tags

accident, blame, brokenness, fair, fault, forgiveness, heal, journey, Lent, Lord's Prayer, mend, prayer, relationship, work

Photo credit:  http://strocel.com/a-word-for-2014-forgiveness/

Several weeks ago I had a conversation with a friend about an automobile accident in which she was involved.  The accident was not her fault – in fact the other driver was being oblivious to those around him and plowed right into her.  My friend and the other driver waited for the police to arrive to complete a report.  That was when she learned about a law in New York of which neither of us were aware.  In New York, even if the accident is clearly one driver’s fault, both drivers are expected to contribute to a portion of the costs of repairs.  The non-fault driver must pay a small percentage even though the accident was in no way her fault.

As we talked about this law, we were initially outraged.  The law hardly seemed fair.  If someone side-swipes you, runs a stop sign, or hits you while distracted, why should you be responsible for someone else’s fault.  We hypothesized about whether there might have been some way for her to give the driver a wider berth to avoid the accident – basically being a better defensive driver.  But we both could imagine situations in which there is no way to see an accident coming.  To us, the law just did not seem fair.

Today, as I was thinking about Lent and forgiveness, I was reminded of my friend’s accident.  The more I thought about New York’s rule, the more I realized that New York may be on to something.  You see, whenever we talk about forgiveness, we often think of ourselves needing to forgive someone else for something they have done to us.  Letting go of anger is an important step toward meaningful forgiveness.  But solely focusing on the actions of the other lets us off the hook from thinking about the ways we may have contributed to problem that needs forgiving.  I am not suggesting that the blame is 50-50.  But the blame might be 90-10 or even 80-20.  Anyone who has been married or who has navigated close friendships or family relationships knows that even when we are totally in the right, there is always a little blame to be shared by all.

As we start our Lenten journey, I invite you to consider taking an inventory of those relationships in your life that need mending or healing.  As you prayerfully consider those relationships, review the ways in which you have participated in the relationship and what ways you might hold some of the fault for the brokenness of the relationship.  The work will not be easy – we like being right so much that we may not be able to really consider mending those relationships.  But as you journey through the complicated web of fault and forgiveness, consider praying the Lord’s Prayer again:  forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.  My prayers are with you on the journey.

Lenten hope…

Tags

already, Easter, God, hope, Lent, not yet, repent, sinfulness, spring, weary, winter, work

Picture credit: http://www.hellopamevans.com/selling-home-spring-smart-move/

Today is a day I have been longing for for at least a month.  The church bells are playing, the sun is shining, the temperature is rising, and I can see bits of grass under mounds of snow.  In some ways, the dreariness of winter has been most appropriate.  We are in Lent after all, so the feeling of weariness seems appropriate.  Any hint of spring would only tease us into a sense of relaxation – something we do not associate with Lent.  And yet, today feels like a little taste of Easter – a promise of what is to come in just a few short weeks.  For some reason, I really needed that taste today.

Of course, we always live our lives in a state of “already and not yet.”  As Christians we understand that the kingdom of God is already present and not yet fulfilled.  We live in a strange state of in between – of knowing that the Savior has come, and yet a time of waiting for the return of the Messiah.  It is an odd reality, and yet how we also understand this odd time.

Lent can be that way too.  We already know what happens after the crucifixion of Jesus.  Therefore staying in the moment, staying in the state of repentance and thoughtfulness about our sin feels contrived or forced – like pretending those birds aren’t chirping when we clearly hear them.  But that is also the beauty of Lent.  In fact, I think that is why we can experience Lent at all.  How else could we agree to delve into the depths of our sinfulness, our separation from God and others, without the promise of the Resurrection.  The Resurrection does not excuse us – it simply anchors us so that we can do the hard work that we need to do during Lent.

So today, I will breathe in the little promise of Easter.  I thank God for the gift of sun on my face and the trickle of melting snow.  And then I will get back to Lent with a little more energy and hopefulness.