Locked in and Locked out

On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely.When he noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. "When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, `Give this person your place,' and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place.

I heard the phrase this morning. It came from a gentleman who works as a computer technician. He spoke with some elequence about the term, "Locked in and Locked out." The phrase refers to developing software. In his line of work he talked about getting involved in trying to figure out or debug software. The struggle is that by becoming so involved it is possible to become to fixated on solving the issue that he stops seeing possible solutions. In effect the phrase refers to being too close to the problem or being "locked in." The solution is not further investigation of the issue at hand but to back away and invite others, who may or may not have the same technical ability, to examine the problem with fresh eyes. He spoke of seeking advice and that in doing so a solution may appear. The idea is that we can limit ourselves by only believing that we have all our solutions. Our fixation on solving the problem actually locks us out of solving the very same problem we are attempting to fix.

And thus we get to the gospel. We come to a gospel reading that is so incredibly filled with irony. The pharisee's are watching Jesus closely. They have yet to really figure out who this man is. He speaks with a familiarity about God that they find troubling. He speaks with authority to them. They who are the authority themselves.

The irony of course is that in Jesus parable he talks of the place of honor and of hosts. They sit eating dinner with Jesus. They are convinced that they know the way to God and God incarnate sits among them...and they are unable to see it. They are Locked in and Locked out. God is doing something else and they are too close to see it. God has taken the lowest seat and will be invited to a higher seat. They have taken the highest seat and will be asked (and shamed) to sit lower still.

The implication for persons of faith are many. We can be too tight in our estimation of truth. We can believe we sit at the right hand of God and God might invite someone else to the seat that we believe is ours. As a priest and as a laborer of the church I can let the "business" of the day and my own willful plans interefere with what God is calling me to. I too can be a pharisee, with God at my feet, and fail to even see him. I too can be locked in and locked out.

The irony of the statement

But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, `Friend, move up higher'; then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted." Luke 14

This field is rich. The Gospel reading for Sept 2nd is one which is so incredibly rich. It leaves me a bit speachless in thinking of the possibilities for preaching. There is the virtue of humility...Jesus has joined the priests of his day. They are living a life in service of God and at their feet is God incarnate. The parable itself is indicative of their situation. The groom is at hand. The one who will be invited to sit higher up is literally sitting in the lowest place and they can not see it. The Gospel also contains the injunction to serve the "least of these." I know it pinches my feet as I begin to enter deeply into the world of church. It pinches because church and the least of these can be two different worlds. How often am I among those who can not repay? There is the fact that we tend to remember through history those who lifted up their fellows rather than the tyrants who exalt themselves. Our hero's both religious and secular tend to be those who did not seek out power and position for themselves but those who sought to increase the lives of those around them.

There is the fact that there is no guarantee that when you sit in the lowest place that the host will even invite you to some higher place. This passage says "may." There is no immediate gratification in seeking the lowest place. When we choose to sit there we should expect to stay there for it will be false humility to sit in a position of service only to expect to sit somewhere higher. Either we will be found out or we will resent the Host. Neither reveals a willingness to follow God's will. Both reveals a type of pride. The man or woman serving God so he or she will get later riches or honor has not chosen the lowest seat.

There in this particular passage is the metaphorical "all" who sit with you. There are many who are at the table. They to have been invited. They have not come to honor us but the host of the party. Our own ego can not diminish their invitation or their very sitting by expecting that the Host will somehow favor us over others. How often have I heard snide remarks about "those" Roman Catholics, Presbyterians, or Baptist? How often has it been I who has snubbed?

Rich, rich indeed.

Luke 12:49 -

Many of my friends are preaching tomorrow on Luke 12:49, if you are unfamiliar with this text, read it below ... a challenging text to say the least!

I am not preaching, but I am reading the Gospel as the deacon of the service, and I have not done a full job of reflecting on and wrestling with, and exegeting this text. That said, my reaction to this text is that: Jesus means business! Jesus did not come in a trifling way, and his mission on earth was not one that was unimportant, or without challenge. Many of us desire "peace" and "unity" rather than division, and we desire some semblance of love and companionship between sons and fathers and mothers and daughters. However, these gaps and divisions between generations are real ones, and Jesus' coming is a New Thing, the Gospel, the Good News - but it may not initially look so peaceful, or unifying or perhaps even 'good.' Jesus came into the world and he meant business, he came with power and might, and Jesus also comes into the world today, and means business, he comes into the world in power and might. Do we trust God enough to see that Jesus is calling us to interpret the present times? Will we live in a way that embraces the eschatological framework that God is going to come and judge us, and that Jesus does not come in a trifling way, but comes in a real way, to deal with real injustice; that Jesus does not come into the world powerless, but transforms and explodes the power systems of our world - even the relationships between family members of different generations?

This text is a challenging one, and even a scary one. The image of Jesus here does not seem to be an image of a 'good shepherd,' but rather a terrible taskmaster. Perhaps we need to see that God cares about the world enough to send someone who loves us, but also who will ask us to account for those things we have done, those things we have left undone, for those things that have been done in our name, and for all the ways that our lives intersect with sin and evil that is done in the world. God cares about the world enough to send His Son who loves us, and loves us enough to judge us, and to empower us to live up to that judgment.

May we hear these difficult and challenging words, and heed them as a wake up call!

discipline, practice, endurance

If no one minds, I'll return to posting only on my blog this week. Here's my thoughts for today, thanks for reading.

This is not a fun week in the lectionary. God's anger is clear in the words of Jeremiah; the people have turned away from the uncomfortable word of God and instead are listening to what is easy to hear from the mouths of liars. The author of the letter to the Hebrews is clear that following the gospel, living a kingdom life, isn't easy. It is like running a long race, it is a struggle, it is a life of discipline, being set straight by the Lord. And finally, we have Jesus, God's self, making clear that with the immanence of the kingdom of God comes division, pain, and a fire that refines away our sinful desires.

These lessons are hard for us to hear. We like our gospel to come as one of love. We like the idea of "loving God and loving neighbor" as long as it doesn't mean doing too much. We like being lazy in our faith, assured of our salvation, whenever judgment day comes (according to science we're safe for quite a while, if we reverse global warming that is). And so it'd be really easy to just skip over this week. Preach on the collect, or do an instructed Eucharist and preach on why the altar is green, but to be true to our faith, we know we can't. We have to struggle with what looks like the ugly side of following God. We have to accept that discipline "always seems painful rather than pleasant at the time, but later is yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it."

In short, it seems this Sunday we will have to deal with sin. We will have to accept that we, personally, are sinners in need of judgment. We will have to accept that we exist within a culture of sin and are complicit in systemic sin. We will have to come to terms with the fact that sin is against the will of God, and the only way to return to the LORD is a painful process of giving up our own way, being thrown in the fire for a while, to be purified and made clean for God.

This won't be fun. It won't be a happy, clappy, mountain top experience. It might pit "father against son... mother against daughter... mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law...", but it will be for the good of all Creation. It will mean a change of heart, that, done right, turns from fatalistic thinking (I'm just a sinner who can do no right) to kingdom thinking (I have been washed clean so that I can work with God).

Dear God, give me the wisdom and strength to preach your word of judgment that allows us to rejoice in your grace, Amen.

prosperity gospel

"O God, whose blessed Son became poor that we through his poverty might be rich..." Being back in God's country (though 1,000 miles further south) has brought with it the joy that is EWTN (Catholic TV) and TBN (Evangelical TV). I love me some televangelists, and EWTN's coverage of the Knights of Columbus convention was riveting. Anyway, though I am a subscriber to the Wittenburg Door and a prayerful supporter of the Trinity Foundation, it had been a while since I had felt the shock and awe of a good TV preacher offering me the financial blessing of God for a "small love offering".

I got that same icky feeling as I read the first clause of the collect for the feast of St. Clare in the context of MPII this AM. In the light of the sermon I'm working on, it was scary to think about how easy it would be to believe fully that it is theologically sound to preach a prosperity gospel. I was reminded of how important context is in our study of Scriptures, Church history, theology, and liturgy. Without the context of a texts historical setting AND setting within a larger work (Bible, BCP, Church Dogmatics, Council of Nicea, etc.) it is very easy to fall into the trap modern day "news organizations" have brought us to with their use of statistics. Proof texting is so easy. It is so tempting. It must be avoided.

"O God, whose blessed Son became poor that we through is poverty might be rich: Deliver us from an inordiante love of this world, that we, inspired by the devotion of your servant Clare, may serve you with singleness of heart, and attain to the riches of the age to come..." Ahhh... context, what a wonderful thing. As Jesus became poor so that we might be made rich is more easily read, in today's context as "as Jesus gave all so that we might be made whole." That'll preach my friends. On TBN, on EWTN, or in your church, that'll preach.

all glory, laud and honor

Today we celebrate the feast of John Mason Neale, a preist in the CofE, warden of Sackville College, and co-founder of the Sisterhood of St. Margaret. He was a sickly man, never being well enough to be a parish priest, who served the faith well. He is perhaps best known for his work of translation (the Eastern Liturgies and many ancient and medieval hymns). On of the old standbys in my collection of favorites is All Glory, Laud, and Honor. It struck me as appropriate today that we would celebrate the life and ministry of Father Neale as I reflected on verse 3 of Psalm 34, "Proclaim with me the greatness of the LORD; *let us exalt his Name together."

While it is nice to be able to listen to midi versions of some of my favorite hymns online, nothing can compare to the joy of worshiping the Lord in a community. The Psalmist is wise to seek help in proclaiming the greatness of the Lord. He may have had the direct experience about which he is writing, but without others to share his joy, it is empty.

So too it is on Palm Sunday, as we recall the joyous parade, the songs of praise, the shouts of acclamation as the one who was to be a Savior, one of much larger magnitude than the crowd could even imagine, rode in to Jerusalem on the back of a donkey. Children, the company of angels, and all the people of the Hebrews, proclaimed the greatness of the LORD that day. The whole cloud of witnesses are recorded in Theodulp of Orelans' ancient hymn, translated by Father Neale.

Proclaim with me the greatness of the LORD. Be it a random Tuesday in August or the beginning of Passiontide, to praise the Lord in community is key, it is necessary, it is a pleasure. Let us exalt his Name together. Hosanna in the Highest!

role reversal

"The Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve." I am drawn to this verse of Scripture. I remember that Dr. Yieh said it was the crux of one of the Gospels, but I can't remember which one. I know that for at least one early faith community the servant nature of Christ was of utmost importance.

I don't think it was the Lukan community (I think it was Mark), but still, the mindbogglingly radical nature of Christ's service is clear in the Gospel for Clare's feast. With a simple beatitude, Jesus turns the idea of master and slave upside-down. In so doing, being true to the allegory of Jewish stories of master and slave, he turns the idea of God and human upside-down as well. "Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them."

It seems beyond comprehension to think of a master who, upon finding his slaves doing nothing more than what they were supposed to be doing, would have them sit down and proceed to serve them. It makes no sense. As the Psalmist wrote (49)

6

We can never ransom ourselves, *
or deliver to God the price of our life;

7

For the ransom of our life is so great, *
that we should never have enough to pay it,

8

In order to live for ever and ever, *
and never see the grave.

Just as the master serving his slaves is seemingly without cause, so too is God's ransom of us. We, of our own, cannot accomplish it. When a job is 24/7 and you call in sick, that day can never be made up (thanks Bishop Dyer). But God wants to fix it. God wants to reward us for doing what we are supposed to be doing. God wants to turn the relationship upside-down and offer us not only his service, but his kingdom. What a role reversal that is. I only hope I can wrap my mind around it, and accept this amazing gift from God.

I sought the LORD, and he answered me * and delivered me out of all my terror.5Look upon him and be radiant, * and let not your faces be ashamed.6I called in my affliction and the LORD heard me * and saved me from all my troubles. ...from the psalm

If i were to consider the above psalm from a purly experiential perspective I would be forced to admit that God showed up in my life most clearly when I was not looking for the Lord. Seeking has been such a small part of the life of faith...for me. It is not that I have not sought. I have. I have always been a little wired for the religious life. I've always had big questions and even the inclination to wonder, "what, if anything, is behind all this?" I never played "priest" as a child or anything like that, just that I have found myself attracted to religious people even through I have not always been able to identify with them. I guess that makes me a bit of a religious nerd. And the reality of that is that I am ok with that. I like the saints. I am comforted in their walk to faith and challenged by their witness. I like big church buildings with quiet dark corners. I like the mystery, smells and bells, and chanting. It does not of course make me any more faithful just more nerdy.

Yet the reality is that even though I like religious things my path has been more a fleeing from God then actively seeking. I identify with "I fled him down the laberynth of years" the wonderful poem that describes a man running away from God only to have God loping behind him like a sheepdog...slow and steady at his heels. I definitely feel that God has shown up most times when I wasn't looking.

And yet, it was in those times of difficulty and stress. It was in those times of lonliness and question. It was in those times of loss that God showed up most clearly. He has saved me time and time again. It is not always easy to say yes to God. It has meant that often I have had to shed old skins for ones I wasn't so crazy about in the beginning. Invariably His will works so much better than I would have expected.

I pray I remain willing. If I should continue to flee that which he has called me to, I pray that God will continually lope behind and offer his kingdom. Give me the grace to take it.

a psalm that is hard to keep

"I will bless the LORD at all times; his praise shall ever be in my mouth."

What an interesting text to use at an ordination service. It is clear that this is appropriate for the feast of most of our saints, Claire certainly among them. But it seems to me there is a reason why we have a rather short roster of saints in the Episcopal Church. Most of us aren't capable of making such a bold claim. Even saints like Phillips Brooks weren't able to live up to such a bold statement (that man could complain). Anyway, I was struck this morning by this psalm.

I'm not really at a point of complaining about my ministry or about God right now, but I have to think, at some point over the next who-knows-how-many years I will have something to complain about. I won't live up to the expectation that Scott is setting up for himself by having this Psalm at his his ordination service. Granted, I'd love to be able to bless the LORD at all times, but I know that there are times when life sucks. There are times, even in my own past, when the only way to communicate with God is by yelling and screaming. There are times when God's will is so opposite your own that you will be pissed off at God.

So what to do with this Psalm? I can't just throw it out. I can't not use it. I have to strive for it. Trusting in the LORD means that when his will and mine don't match, I don't get angry, but I surrender mine for his. Jesus himself had to lay down his will so that the will of the Father, a will that meant an agonizing death and separation from God that brought about salvation for countless numbers, might be accomplished. So I guess I use this Psalm as my touchstone. Coming back to it in times of struggle to remind myself to "taste and see that the LORD is good." Otherwise, I could easily get caught up in my own desires, losing all perspective, and being angry more often than not.

""I will bless the LORD at all times; his praise shall ever be in my mouth."

The least of these

O God, whose blessed Son became poor that we through his poverty might be rich:...from the collect

I was captured right away by the collect. That is an awesome statement...not the "cool" or "hip" kind of awesome but fear and awe kind of awesome. I am aways amazed at the connection of poor and God. There is poor in spirit, humility, the anawim, the dictates through out the whole cannon to heal the sick and take care of the poor, the bungling disciples, Paul's blindness, David's meekness, and Abrahm's age. Even after the resurrection of Christ there are those figures in Christian History who have left there mark in imitation of Christ. Yet it always seems that those who leave the biggest mark are they who prior to a change in life , prior to getting caught up in God, prior to seeking a new way, are incapable of living with any success.

I am always struck that it is not poverty that is to be held high but poverty which allows God to be seen so clearly. It is our poverty, our destitution, our failure and at times the phenomenal changes of state and mind which point to God. It is poverty that witnesses the Divine most clearly because it testifies that it can only be that which provides the power. He gives all and we gain. We become rich because he first gave all.

Lord, I am powerless.

The Father's Good Pleasure

"Jesus said to his disciples, 'Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom.'"

"Thy kingdom come, they will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

Brian McLaren has an interesting assessment of present-day American Christianity. To paraphrase, he see the faith that most Christians are carrying around as that of Paul, Jesus is coming back tonight, I need to be ready. "What if," he asks, "what if Jesus isn't coming back tonight? How will you live with that as your assumption?"

I think this is what Jesus has in mind in Luke 12.32-37. It is another kingdom lesson. Another clue into how we are to live life as Christians on earth each and every day. Sure, he mentions the reward, and even warns us to be ready for that day when all we be called to account, but inherent in it is the assumption that it won't be tonight. It is one of those both/ands I hated so much in seminary.

Be prepared for Jesus to come (or your life to end) tonight

Live as though it isn't going to happen. Live a life of Christian discipline that assumes that even if you were to die tonight, the world will still go on. The poor will still be poor. The hungry will still be hungry. Children will still need protection.

It is a tough balance to find. And I know I haven't helped much here. But at least I'm thinking about it today. I'm thinking about how to balance a life that is ready for the kingdom to come to earth and expectant of the riches to come. Seems to me that's the balance of a priest as well. The deacon ordination, which comes first, is a call to a life focused here on earth; on making it a better place for all. The priest part, which ultimately is secondary (though we don't think of it that way), with its sacramental components is focused on the daily nourishment required should we be called to judgment tonight.

It is the Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Live as to bring it to earth today, cuz it might not come tonight.

Where your treasure is

Investment is an interesting concept. It wasn't until relatively recently (1545 in England) that making some money with your money was an accepted practice. Sure the blacksmith could "invest" in iron and make money selling horseshoes, but it wasn't that the local blacksmith was giving his money to the local farmer to buy seed in hopes of a return on his investment come harvest.

Reading Jesus' famous words on the value of money struck me today. "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." I wonder if it really has to do with money the way we, consumerist as we are, read it to be. Did Jesus really equate wealth with treasure? I'm guessing no. I'm thinking that perhaps Jesus' sense of treasure had more to do with the whole of one's being.

As I invest the money I set aside to pay quarterlies in a high-yield interest account, I don't think of it as placing my treasure in ING's hands. I think of my treasure as my time, my relational energy, my love and affection. These things I place in important places. I give my time to my God, my wife, and my Church. I give my relational energy to the same. I give my love and affection right there too. That is where my treasure is, and by default (love, time, relational energy) my heart is there also.

I know I'll be preaching on the Feast of St. Claire. I know that her vow of poverty, along with that of St. Francis, is world renowned. I understand that Jesus did have something to say with how we use are money, but I have to imagine that he had a lot more in mind by treasure than an economic system.

Still, the lesson remains the same, doesn't it. I may not be giving ING my treasure and my heart, but I give it to a lot of things that are not needful of it. I give my time to the remote control as I channel-surf for a show I know isn't on. I give my love to thinks undeserving; material goods that in no way bring me closer to the man Jesus would have me be. I waste a lot of my treasure on things which are unnecessary thereby stretching my heart awfully thin. "Where your treasure is, there you heart will be also." Maybe it doesn't mean just money, but I still have a lot of work to do getting my treasures in the right places.

From the riches of his grace

My supervisor here likes to bring this line up over and over to me in our supervisory sessions. Everything about one's priestly ministry should be centered on this. "In everything you do, you are to feed God's people from the riches of his grace". My first inclination is to run screaming from this. If everything I do is to help feed others, how do I keep myself fed? If I am having trouble seeing the riches of his grace, how I am to feed others by it? Aaaa!! run for the hills!!!
When I first thought about an ordination using the Clare readings and not the BCP appointed ones, I thought it was weird. But how nice it was to see some of my misgivings put at ease. In the Gospel there is the reminder to be ready, to be prepared. I can only feed others if I first take care of myself. My preparation is paramount, or how else can I welcome Jesus into the door he has left me to watch?
And then there is the Song of Solomon, the love poem. It is a loving God that pulls our downcast eyes up to look at the growing things. See the flower opening, God says. Here are the riches of his grace, that life continues. Flowers, both tangible and metaphorical, continue to bloom. Spring comes, life grows eternal. Come my love, he says, and see creation. It may be the verbena flowers on my porch (which didn't die under my spouse's watch while I was away), or it could be a new ministry being attempted, or a baptism being planned. Even greater than these, it is Christ offered up Sunday morning. Yep, that's the food God offers, to sustain and inspire. Creation reborn and renewed.

Sell your possessions and give alms

All Baptized people are called to make Christ known as Savior and Lord, and to share in the renewing of his world. Now you are called to work as a pastor, priest, and teacher, together with your bishop and fellow presbyters, and to take your share in the councils of the Church... from the examination

laboring together with them and with your fellow ministers to build up the family of God?... from the examination

Sell your possessions, and give alms. from the Gospel

I feel like the rich man with this word from the Gospel. I find these words particularly challenging. Sell your possessions and give alms...where your treasure is, there also is your heart. The implication of this statement can either enrich or condemn. I find myself at this time hearing both.

I suppose I could moan and complain that those who originally heard these words did not have the troubles that I have. I could go on about taxation, Social Security, and the needs of my family. Easy for Jesus to do because he was a wandering, itinerant preacher (Beyond of course the incarnate Lord!) He did not have children to feed (in the temporal sense of course!) I can easily think of Scripture that challenges this "holy poverty." "The laborers deserve to be paid." comes to mind. I could even become a bit indignant as a clergyman. Has not countless congregations kept a man or woman in poverty by citing this scripture as an excuse for not paying him or her for valuable labor. Yet even amidst a pocketful of justification, the text is not calling for poverty. It calls for trust.

I believe that money in this context is a crutch. It gives the illusion of self control. If I put my trust in money, I am putting my faith in the proposition that I can control the universe. Maybe not the whole universe but my universe. I have fed into the facade that I am the prime mover. Like the shattering of glass, my faith becomes null in void in any crisis of note. In instants, this self dependence can come tumbling down in the face of famine, disease, unrest, and sickness. My treasure will be no treasure at all... only the hollow keepsake that it always was... an idol feeding my quest to control my universe.

Christ calls into dependence on him. God is to be our primary support. Our dependence is to be on him alone. He alone can remove us from the specter of death. He alone mediates us into communion with God. God from God, Light from Light. True God from true God. Begotten not made. Of one being with the Father. Through Him all things were made. The ramification of the preceding is that if it is true, there is no other thing needed. A candle by the light of the sun is dark. Why would I depend on self to trust if the very creator of the Universe invites me into fellowship?

I pray I never lose sight of that. I pray I never lose sight of the fact that as I have trusted God, that entity that I barely see, know, and understand, the greater my awareness of His mercy and love becomes. Taste and see that the Lord is good indeed.

Arise, my love, my fair one,and come away;for now the winter is past... From Song of Solomon

I called in my affliction and the LORD heard me * and saved me from all my troubles.7The angel of the LORD encompasses those who fear him, * and he will deliver them.8Taste and see that the LORD is good; * happy are they who trust in him! ... from the Psalm

May the Lord who has given you the will to do these things give you the grace and power to perform them.... from the Examination

For winter is past....

Seminary was a desert time for me. I know this was party due to myself and my expectations. I expected Seminary to be a place where I might really engage with fellow Christians. And I did. What I didn't expect was that the institution and many of my classmates were so guarded. I found it stifling. I don't feel called to church that lifts up the structure over the mandates of Christ. I feel called to serve Christ and find myself amongst those also called to serve the living God.

For winter is past...

I have entered a new community. It is sort of a post hippy, left leaning, but fun loving community. I have entered a community which relishes laughter. It has been like a balm for me. Laughter, the kind that so readily admits our sinfulness without the distain of conceptions of piety. Lord save me from the uptight church.

Lessons in the desert...

The desert however is neccesary. The Israelites are tried in the desert. Jesus is tempted in the desert. John the Baptist is brought to the desert and preaches to Israel from the wastes. The irony of course is that those called to live more deeply in God were called first to the desert in order to find the "living water" of Baptism. My expectation had been that seminary was going to be the promise land. It was its dryness for me that led me out of my expectation to trust in the living God. In spite of me God continued to call...taste and see that the lord is good. It was not the grand that I could put my trust in... it was the small relationships, the re-emphasis on my family obligations, and assisting people where I could with mission. It was the little things... the still small voice of God which led through a time of dryness.

For winter is past...
I have gained tremendous amounts in the desert. In time some of the difficulties will heal over and I will begin to appreciate it for what it was. It was a time of testing. It was a time of learning. It was a time to recognize that the church is much like how it always has been, a collection of sinful, groping, wonderful people like me. The great reality being that the church has never saved. We only can point to the living God entrusting the results to him. And now the winter is past. I have entered a new place and due to the desert I have not set it to far up on the hill. Thus far we laugh. For now it is wonderful.

on preparation

On August 11th I am scheduled to preach at the service of Ordination to the Priesthood for a dear friend from Seminary. That is a little less than two weeks from right now. I am nervous. As if preaching in front of a crowd eagerly awaiting an ontological change to happen in someone else isn't difficult enough, I am a deacon, preaching the ordination of a priest. The Bishop of, well whatever diocese it is in, (I should figure that out), has made it clear that this isn't the norm, but he is allowing it. GULP.

Anyway, two weeks of preparation seem like a good idea to me. The readings that are found here are for that day. I will be reading them with much intent and vigor over the next couple of weeks, please read them with me, and pray, pray hard, for me.

The crux of this post, however, isn't about me or my preparation. Instead it is about the call to "be prepared" that is so clear in Luke 12.32-37. God wants to give you the Kingdom, are you ready? Well no, of course I'm not. I've got a sermon to write. I've got a webpage to put together. I've got names to learn. I've got s**t to do, thank you very much. Excuses are not going to make the Kingdom of God. Preparation and action will. When the master, drunk from a wedding banquet that lasted several days, stumbles back home, the servants best be prepared for his arrival. How much more so should we be prepared for the God of all love and power when he comes, Kingdom in hand, ready to give it to us. To be asleep seems as though it would be a bad thing. To be unprepared, not sure whether it is God at the door, that would be unwise. Know the LORD and await his arrival.

All right, I get it. I'll be prepared. I'll start by working on this sermon.

I'm kinda sure

"The LORD will make good his purpose for me; *
O LORD, your love endures for ever;
do not abandon the works of your hands."

I haven't noticed the Psalm for Weekly Lection in quite some time. I often run through it in hopes of arriving at an insightful word from Paul. Even though I am now reading the Scripture in the context of Morning Prayer (today done at 1:45 PM) I don't read the Psalm first, I just cram all the readings together. I need to work on that.

I did, however, notice the Psalm today. Verse 9 really spoke to me with its assurance and yet doubt.

"The LORD will make good his purpose for me;" - I know this. Though I am just at the beginning of my ministry, very green, very nervous, and with a lot to learn, I know that God has great things in store. I know that his purpose for me here is without compare, that is why I was called to St. Paul's. God's got some big things planned.

"O LORD, your love endures forever;" - I know this too. I've said it and sung it to God in Canticles too many times to remember since finding Morning Prayer. God's love for me, in fact for all Creation, is never ending. We were created by the overflowing of love from the Trinity. God wanted to love more and more, so He created. He repeatedly called us back from our rebellion, to the point of sending his Son, Himself, to earth to die on our behalf. I know that my God loves me.

"Do not abandon the works of your hands." - And yet. And yet, I still doubt. Your plan is good, don't let it fall through the cracks. Your love is never-ending, don't forget about me. This verse is the definition of faith for most, if not all, believers. I know, but. It is hard to trust in God. So many other things have failed us; parents, education, politicians, the Church, and on and on. We are conditioned to be guarded, to offer a Psalm like this one.

But with God, we can stop 2/3 of the way through. "The LORD will make good his purpose for me; O LORD, your love endures forever, AMEN!" Now, if I can convince myself of it, I'll be golden.

Persistence in the Journey of Faith

Genesis 18: 20 - 33 (excerpt below)
32 Then he said, "Oh do not let the Lord be angry if I speak just once more. Suppose ten are found there." He answered, "For the sake of ten I will not destroy it." 33 And the LORD went his way, when he had finished speaking to Abraham; and Abraham returned to his place.


GOSPEL: Luke 11:1- 13 (excerpt below)
9 "So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. 10 For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. 11 Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? 12 Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? 13 If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

__________________________________________________________________________________

There is a clear connection between the Old Testament lesson from Genesis and the Gospel reading in this coming Sunday's lectionary ... persistence in the Journey of Faith.

First, in Genesis 18, Abraham shows great compassion for the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, and because of this compassion, Abraham works to haggle with God about how many sinless men need to be there to have God spare the rest of the people. I preached on this two years ago, and one of the parishioners said that for many years he has tried to find some Biblical basis for his chosen profession, that of a lobbyist; in this lesson, he heard Abraham as the lobbyist (or even the defense attorney) for the people of Sodom and Gomorrah. Abraham is persistent, and keeps haggling and bargaining with God, seemingly (almost) to show greater compassion (at first) than God is showing. In the text, at least, we see God respond to Abraham's pleas, and we see some of the depth of the relationship that exists between God and Abraham. Abraham is known for obeying God, for having faith in God, AND here we see that that obedience and faithfulness includes the quality of reasoning, the quality of persistence, and includes even haggling and communication.

In the Gospel, we hear the assurance from Jesus that the we are told to ask for what we need, to search for the answers, and that doors will be opened to us when we ask, and that the way will be set out for us when we turn to God, 9 "So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. 10 For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.

Can we imagine having a deep enough faith in God, and deep enough trust in God's faithfulness, that we would turn to God with all our haggling, with all our concerns, with all our compassion, and all our persistence? Can we imagine that the doors really will be opened to us if we have the courage and the persistence to ask? I know that sometimes I imagine that my prayers and practices need to be sanitized for God, but as I turn to this text I am reminded that God is bigger than all of it and that God can even take my deepest, most relentless concern and compassion when I turn to God. And, when my faith is strong I believe Jesus when he assures us that "everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened."

May I (and we) have the courage to haggle, to search, and to knock on the door! (and believe that God will respond!)

Thomas a' Kempis (a day late)

For yesterday's feast:

"Many live under obedience, rather for necessity than for love; such are discontented, and do easily suffer. Neither can they attain to freedom of mind, unless they willingly and heartily put themselves under obedience for the love of God."

From The Imitation of Christ (Chicago: Moody Press, 1980): 37.

Further reading:

• Devotio Moderna
• Brethren of the Common Life
• Thomas Hammerken
  

the history of naval gazing

"See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the universe, and not according to Christ." (Col 2.8)

Sometimes I forget that well intentioned naval gazing isn't a new phenomenon. I haven't studied philosophy so I often lose sight of the fact that the history of it goes back to before Christ was born. I guess the Greeks and the Romans were probably some of the worst offenders of empty deceit in all of human history. So while I feel awfully sorry for St. Paul, I take some solace in his call to the Colossians to put aside the pride that goes with heady, philosophical conversation.

Modernity, too, had its fair share of "human tradition". With its love of science and the arrogance that comes from "progressive truth finding", humanity spent most of our post-enlightenment history captive to our own understanding. I'm recalling my own being held captive during a three-hour naval gazing conversation about one chapter of Barth's Homiletics at my favorite modernist institution, Virginia Theological Seminary.

And, I'm sorry to say, our captivity continues. As much as I love my time spent in emerging/Emergent conversations, it too has the capacity to fall into its own empty deceit. As Bishop Baxter says, "when we look to anything other that Jesus to save us, we're in trouble." Even this blog, with its often heady study of scripture, can, at times, be accused of not being focused on Christ alone. I know it. It is impossible to avoid really. Heck, even St. Paul was dealing with it in one of his missions.

So today is a conviction day for me. It is a call to prayer (see Genesis and Luke). Heady exploration of scripture and theology, done in the context of prayer, will seek Christ alone. Done any other way, will, more often than not, results in the puffing up of my own ego.

i found something new

Well at least it is new to me. And that may not even be true, it may be something I noticed before and forgot, but it is new to me today. I've read the passage from Luke 11 on prayer dozens of times in my life. I've heard it preached on. I was part of a Lenten series on the Lord's Prayer. I thought I had some idea what was going on in this passage. Then today, as I read it again I noticed something very peculiar, something that I had not noticed before.

The passage for the Lectionary ends with verse 13 (I don't have verse #s but it is something like), "If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

"How much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"!!!!!

Have you ever noticed that before? When I think of this passage in my mind I hear it as "How much more will the heavenly Father give to those who ask him!" But that isn't what Jesus is promising here. Jesus isn't promising that the Prayer of Jabez will bring you riches. He isn't promising that every time we pray for healing it'll happen. He isn't promising victory for the side that prays more. Nope, he is promising the Holy Spirit to anyone who asks. He is promising the overflowing of the Spirit to those who ask again and again.

In light of the examples; bread, fish, eggs, it seems like Jesus is calling us to ask for that which gives us life. Immediately then, he tells us what to ask for. Not for 2 747s for your ministry. Not for a million dollars. Not for a brilliant idea. Nope, ask for that which give life, the Holy Spirit. Ask again and again. God will give you so much of the Spirit that you'll overflow. I'm glad for this realization. It makes my prayer life easier. "Give me the good stuff God, fill me up with your Holy Spirit!" That I can pray with confidence.

From Thanksgiving to Thanksgiving

With a stop at utter despair in between. My post on Friday was an upbeat one. It was really one of my better posts, I think. Not rambling as I am want to do. Not sullen as my mindset often is. Really good theology, I think, oh and use of the BCP, a 5 for sure from the GOE readers.

And then I got a phone call. It was SHW calling to let me know that because she was "unemployed" she was disqualified from being licensed by credentials in the great state of Alabama. Mild panic and great annoyance set in immediately. The tone of thanksgiving that had flowed so easily to God just hours before was now gone in a flash of bitterness and frustration as I tried to figure out what we would do now.

It is amazing how quickly our prayers can change. I guess it really more amazing how quickly life can change. From being excited and humbled by being a part of God's plan to being really pis*ed of at God for not making it as easy as I think it should be in about 3 seconds. Prayers go from adoration and thanksgiving to rants of anger and frustration. God can take both, another reason for thanksgiving I suppose.

Anyway, when she finally couldn't take it anymore, SHW called her old boss. Before her story was over, he said, "what do you mean you are unemployed?" Her 6 week unpaid leave will come to a close here soon, and she'll be commuting to DC for a part-time job, but I'll be darned if she doesn't still have a job. And BAM! We're back to thanksgiving, humility, and awe at the power of God, at the way he works through people and relationships to bring his will to fruition on earth as in heaven.

Whether it is the small stuff like being thankful for rain, or the big stuff like the reign of God prayer works. Offering thanksgiving to God never goes unnoticed. Asking with persistence for the in breaking of the Kingdom of God will bring it about. So from Thanksgiving to despair to Thanksgiving, I'm back, looking at the good gifts, standing in awe of the Lord.

"I will listen to what the LORD God is saying, *for he is speaking peace to his faithful people and to those who turn their hearts to him."- from the psalm

"See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the universe, and not according to Christ." From Colossians

"So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened." from Luke

I am probably repeating my self from yesterday with these elements of the reading. They have captured me. The one that leaps off the page is the one from Colossians...the warning to not be taken in by philosophy or human traditions. This grabs me because in my experience it was so easy to be lifted high by ideology or intellect but to be left starving as a Christian. I think we must be wary of our own intellect...not because it is bad but, combine it with ego and all of a sudden we are looking down the well for God and seeing ourselves. It is easy to do. Because it is easy to do I must check even my own (by my mind -brilliant) observations through others. Those others, as Chesterton notes, should include the "democracy of the dead." I must check my convictions through the thoughts and observations that emerge in scripture and the writings of my brethren.

Of course none of this has anything to do with prayer, except for the fact that if I am not a developed 'prayer' then I must at least acknowledge the dependency upon prayer that both Jesus demonstrates and the people of prayer who passed on this "Christian" thing to me. I must acknowledge that my whole being, my whole existence as a man "of the cloth" so to speak, has been enriched by prayer. From the prayers of my Grandmother praying that I would not turn out to be to big an idiot during my teen years to the prayers of Thomas Merton whose prayers turned him to Christ which then led him to write. Churches have prayed for me. My family has prayed for me. Individuals have prayed for me. I can not assume that just because I have intellectual ideas that may or may not lead me into a life of prayer that my ideas are correct. I am more the recipient of this life as a result of prayer than my convictions about it. I must as Jesus so evidences, find time not to contemplate whether or not I should pray but PRAY. As last weeks Gospel so put it "Do this and live."

I pray that my humble thoughts on prayer or the collection of readings from this weeks leads not to an acceptable sermon about prayer but a life a prayer. Lord, you are the cause of deep currents. Give me courage to swim where you lead.

the giver of all good gifts

to Him be thanks and praise. I am struck this morning as I read the Gospel for the 29th by what Jesus says about God as he talks about prayer.

"If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

It is so often the case that I forget how great God is. I rarely realize the extent to which God has poured out his blessings upon me. When it rains, I grumble. When it is hot, I complain. When things go well, I congratulate myself. When things don't go so well, I blame, well usually I blame someone else. I forget to thank God for all these things. I forget that nothing is to wondrous for the Lord, and I assume I've got it all under control. I'm convicted today to thank God. I'm reminded today of Charlie Price's masterpiece in the 79 BCP.

Accept, O Lord, our thanks and praise for all that you have
done for us. We thank you for the splendor of the whole
creation, for the beauty of this world, for the wonder of life,
and for the mystery of love.

We thank you for the blessing of family and friends, and for
the loving care which surrounds us on every side.

We thank you for setting us at tasks which demand our best
efforts, and for leading us to accomplishments which satisfy
and delight us.

We thank you also for those disappointments and failures
that lead us to acknowledge our dependence on you alone.

Above all, we thank you for your Son Jesus Christ; for the
truth of his Word and the example of his life; for his steadfast
obedience, by which he overcame temptation; for his dying,
through which he overcame death; and for his rising to life
again, in which we are raised to the life of your kingdom.

Grant us the gift of your Spirit, that we may know him and
make him known; and through him, at all times and in all
places, may give thanks to you in all things. Amen.


I'm glad to have this prayer today. I'm glad Scott moved me on to the readings for next week. I'm thankful for all the gifts given to me by Him through whom all things were made. Thanks be to God!

A New Kind of Canticle

“Alleluia!”

I heard it, stopped, and turned around.

Damned if it wasn’t the amaryllis,
Lined up in the window box,
Their red-striped throats open,

Praising the Lord.

(by Margaret Minis; I found this while perusing an EFM brochure, and it reminded me of something Will Campbell would write)

Distractions Redeemed

In thinking yet again about the Mary and Martha story as it relates to my own constant state of distraction and worry I was reminded of a prayer. This prayer comes from the book , Women's Uncommon Prayers: our lives revealed, nurtured, celebrated, an odd place for a 27 year-old post-conservative to pull from, but a good book none-the-less. The prayer I recalled was written by the Rev. Mary Anne Akin and is entitled "Sunday Night Tub Cleaning". It reminds me a lot of the option Martha chose not to choose, finding God in the distractions, seeking God in the mundane.

This post is sort of worthless, I am realizing, due to a very stern copyright notice on the first page of Women's Uncommon Prayers. I can't copy it here for you to read, but point you to Google Book Search where you can search for "Sunday Night Tub Cleaning" and find it quite easily.


Anyway, I just felt that a series of posts on distractions and worry wouldn't be finished without noting that God is in the small stuff. God shows up slumped over the bathtub in the same way, and often with more power and might, than on a Sunday morning in a stuffy church service. To live as Monday through Saturday followers of Christ rather than just as Sunday church-goers is to seek God in the grime of the bathtub, the frustration of the traffic light, or the silence of an empty house.

Persistence

"When I called, you answered me; *you increased my strength within me." from the psalm

"Mercy and truth have met together; *righteousness and peace have kissed each other. " from the psalm

"See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the universe, and not according to Christ. For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have come to fullness in him, who is the head of every ruler and authority. " from Colossians

"I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs." from the Gospel of Luke

These are just a couple of things which grabbed my attention. What is central to me is this idea of persistence in prayer (a topic I am not all that well versed). My first sermon at Church of the Good Shepherd and I draw one of the big ones of the faith: Jesus on prayer. I once read a smattering from an over the top evangelist and he noted that Jesus does not teach us much about anything but prayer. Jesus calls us to prayer. Jesus receives us in prayer. What rings true at the moment is that line from the psalm. "When I called, you answered me, you increased my strength within me" Prayer is our call God calls. We discover that our strength is increased. We become able to bear what we have in front of us.

Yet I am also struck how prayer often is not our first response whether it is individually or corporately. What does a praying church look like? We are often very good at hospitality. We are often very good at thinking about the dispossessed. But are we praying for the strength to meet the needs of those who come amongst us or are we simply utilizing our own strength? Maybe we don't trust that prayer is where we should begin? Maybe we have not been taught? Maybe we think we think we are only speaking to ourselves? Yet today's gospel suggests something different. Jesus uses a story of the day to suggest that God likes to be asked. He is not maybe the cosmic Santa clause issuing out gifts left and right on a whim. He is more like the friend tucked in at night a little annoyed at being woken by the friends plea.

and Jesus does not simply say pray. Jesus says that we are to be persistent in our prayers. We are to bang at the door and nock! We need those three loaves of bread for our guest. We can not simply walk away at the first sign of resistance. God's quietude may not be the answer no but God's way of drawing us into dependence on him. He does seek to bless us yet do we seek the blessing. Jacob wrestles all night to get his. Do we? Dare I say, do I?

farewell for now

To my friends at The Lectionary... Go!

I am taking this time to let you know that I will no longer be posting here. Having copied and pasted my posts all over the blog-o-sphere for the last few months in the hopes that others might join back in, it has become clear that we all need a break. I will continue to reflect on the scripture at my personal blog spankeysblog.blogspot.com and hope to re-join the community at The Lectionary... Go! when we all have a little more time.

Blessings,
Steve

Xianity is the only major religion...

With a living leader/founder/guru/god. Have you heard this apologetic argument? I have heard it often, and, not needing much in the way of apologetics myself anymore, find it interesting, but by no means a key selling point. Then again, I'm 2000 years removed from the whole thing and don't know Jesus as a living breathing man here on earth. I do know him, and the whole of the Trinity, as alive and well in my reading of Scripture, in my prayer, and in my life.

What I do find interesting about the whole ascension thing is a funny turn of phrase by Jesus as he prepares his followers for a second departure. "Now I am going to him who sent me; yet none of you asks me, `Where are you going?' But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your hearts."

These folks were sad. Of course they were. From the pit of despair on Good Friday and Holy Saturday, they were made alive again in Christ's coming to life again on Easter Sunday. Things were back to where they were supposed to be. Jesus was showing up on occasion, giving them advice and kind words, and they were once again energized by his message of repentance, redemption, and salvation. Little did they know that in a mere 40 more days he'd be on his way out of their lives (physically speaking) again. They must have thought that surely this time Jesus would lead them in a revolution. He had to succumb to the powers that be, but he came back to show them who was in charge. It makes perfect sense; a lot more sense than a 40 day encore only to leave them seemingly empty handed again. Sorrow filled their hearts because of what they thought it meant for them that he was again leaving. No one bothered to ask what they should do if/when he left again; he WAS NOT going to leave them again, damn it.

In the end, he had to leave them. They were as ready as they could be to take on this follower of Jesus thing on their own. He'd send help, no doubt, but they had to do this strange thing on their own for a while. Those brain trusts who made up the lectionary don't give us the disciples reaction, but I'll tell you, they don't get it. They still think he's going to do something more here on earth. But as Jesus will soon tell them, "Very truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy."

I think it may be true that Christianity is the only major religion with a living, breathing leader/founder/guru/god, but what's more exciting is that this living, breathing guy knew when it was time to get out of the way and let his followers do the work, live the life, stumble, be redeemed, and ultimately turn all their pain into joy.

back at it

I know its been a while. It has, in fact, been too long. For that I am sorry. Not so much sorry to you, the reader, but sorry to me, the writer, for having fallen out of habit and fallen out of this intentional time in prayer and word. However, I have to note that this time has been different. Its not like things have been perfect and I've fallen into the old pattern of relying on myself and forgetting about God and all of His blessings. No, this time it is different. This time, I've still been keenly aware of God; even spending time in prayer (unlike it was so often in the olden days). This time I've just fallen out of this practice. Still, I'm sorry to have fallen away. I have missed the intentional nature of it. I have missed the time in the Word. I have really, really missed it.

So it is good to be back. It is great to be back. And what better week to return to a practice of spending time meeting God in the Word by the power of the Spirit than Trinity Sunday. This practice is a microcosm of a life lived in Trinitarian belief. One practice, three ends. One God, three persons.

In the lesson from John we see the Word of God incarnate in Jesus preparing to leave again. Jesus is about to return to the right hand of God the Father; to be fully reunited in the Trinity. Instead of leaving his followers to their own devices, Jesus, with the promise of God the Father, will send an Advocate, God the Holy Spirit to keep them company, to guide them in the will of the Father, to keep them in touch with the perfect will of the one God; Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

I love this passage. It is a perfect image of this weird and wacky faith we have. This Trinitarian thing is strange, but it is beautiful. It makes no sense, but it is perfect. The only way I can even try to believe this thing is to read the Word with the aid of the Advocate to discern the will and understanding of the Father. It is brought to light here in John 16 better than any theologian could attempt.

I am once again reminded of the benefits of this practice. I am happy to be back to this place where theology is made perfect; not by my words (hell no), but in the Word, with the Advocate, and the Father.

A woman was at work when she received a phone call that her small daughter
was very sick with a fever.

She left her work and stopped by the pharmacy to get some medication.

She got back to her car and found that she had locked her keys in the car.
She didn't know what to do, so she called home and told the baby sitter what
had happened.

The baby sitter told her that the fever was getting worse. She said, "You
might find a coat hanger and use that to open the door."

The woman looked around and found an old rusty coat hanger that had been
left on the ground, possibly by someone else who at some time had locked
their keys in their car.

She looked at the hanger and said, "I don't know how to use this"

She bowed her head and asked God to send her help. Within five minutes a
beat up old motorcycle pulled up, with a dirty, greasy, bearded man who was
wearing an old biker skull rag on his head.

The woman thought, "This is what you sent to help me?"

But, she was desperate, so she was also very thankful.

The man got off of his cycle and asked if he could help.

She said, "Yes, my daughter is very sick. I stopped to get her some
medication and I locked my keys in my car. I must get home to her. Please,
can you use this hanger to unlock my car?

He said, "Sure." He walked over to the car, and in less than a minute the
car was opened.

She hugged the man and through her tears

she said, "Thank You So Much! You are a very nice man."

The man replied, "Lady, I am not a nice man. I just got out of prison today.
I was in prison for car theft and have only been out for about an hour."

The woman hugged the man again and with sobbing tears cried out loud,

"Oh, Thank you God!

You've sent me a Professional!"

God sent a professional. There are a lot of messages here in this little story. We have prayer. We have a story about God meeting needs. We have the very practical instruction that one should not lock their keys in the car. For the cynics there is the underlying difficulty in accepting that there just happened to be a coat hanger in the parking lot. In fact there might be many more interpretations out there. We all do not hear the same thing. A humerous joke about what we hear and how it can be so different from others is the following.

A doctor decided to give a talk about the effect of alcohol on the digestive system. To demonstrate he took out some 100 proof vodka and a common garden worm. He placed the worm in the vodka and the worm quickly disolved. The doctor asked the audience. "Now what does that teach you?" A medical student in the front got up and began explaining how alchohol eats away at the intestines. A drunk in the back of the room gets up and interupts the medical student..."no, no, no (hic) thats not it. What that demonstrates doctor is that if you drink enough good alcohol you won't get worms"

We all do not perceive the same thing. There is more to the story. Through the eyes of faith things are not always what they appear. In Christ our greatest sins can become strength...foolishness can become wisdom.

So the emphasis I would like to focus on this morning is the Professional... the biker. In this story he is like the the fearsome angels of the Bible who bring deliverence. In this simple story the mans greatest defect and sin is transformed and becomes grace. In this simple story he is the definition of a saint. He brings his whole being to the task. The mother perceives correctly. It is not only the man who acts in this story but God. In his honest transparency so much more can be seen. What is brought to light becomes light.

A few weeks back I had a thought.

Yes, I know some of you may find that statement miraculous but it is true. It was during one of the services that sunlight was playing outside of the stained glass windows. As the light intensified the glass intensified. The figures became more full. While each figure in the stained glass became brighter their individual shapes and features became more distinct. They became in that moment, as the son backlit the stained glass, quite literally, agents of the light. The light did not destroy or overpower who and what they were. Yet it was evident. Something other than just the glass could be percieved. It is the transparency of the glass that better allows for the sun to be seen. It takes perception to acknowledge that the glass is not acting alone. For without light nothing could be seen.

In the book of Ephesians there is a line that is quite simply, devestating. It is in its implication one of the most profound beautys of the bible. It suggests that there is absolutely nothing that we can do that can stand in the way of God's Grace. It suggests that reconciliation is possible. It supports the understanding that Christ was crucified to attone the sins of all. It can even lead us to understand that as agents of God's Creation we can play a part in God's redemption. As Church we are a unique community established by God to do just that.

In Ephesians 5 it says, "For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light. Live as children of light- for in the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true. Try to find out what is pleasing to the lord. Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them...but everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for everything that becomes visible is light"

The darkness exposed to light becomes light! Darkness can not overcome light. The light does not simply expose but transform.

But if the windows teach us anything, we are not to become something other than we are but allow God to transform all that we are to good.

Are there parts of you you would rather not think about? Have there been situations where you have hurt others? Are there areas in your life you need to bring to God? This is not about works but remaining open to transformation. For Ephesians suggests that all is open to transformation. Our greatest sins, our biggest difficulties, the infidelities and wacked out schemes and plans can all become light if exposed to the light. Our deeds which used to keep us in fear if found out, can be transformed by Christ to become our assets. Our bondage can become our liberation.

And I think that is why I like the saints. I like the saints not because of what they accomplished but from where they came from. They often are a motley crew of rougues and nardowells. They personally may not like me saying so but I think recognizing their humanity, it is the point. Did not the religious leaders of Jesus day condemn him for hanging out with a rough crowd? And what does he say? A doctor goes to the sick. How much more does God shine through the man or woman who was thought to be a lost cause? The Christian faith is not about pulling ones self up by owns own bootstraps...It is about allowing Christ to carry us.

We have Paul, the righteous Jew convinced that the Christians were committing blasphemy, who through transformation goes to the end of the earth proclaiming the gospel.

We have Peter, the bumbling fisherman whe swears up and down he will be faithful who rejects Christ and then, in spite of his lack of loyalty, is chosen to lead the church.

We have Augustine of Hippo, a man convinced in his youth he will figure it all out. Augustine the same man who can't stop having affairs with woman is transformed into an agent of fidelity...his witness and work helps the church survive when the rest of society was breaking apart.

The saints are all around us. In coming to the light they become light revealing that this Christian faith of ours is true.

The point here is not to compare our life with theirs but identify. Can we too be willing to allow our darkest dark become our greatest light?

They do not save us because of what they accomplished but that their transformation can be our own. We to are invited to become the people that we are called to become. The question becomes will we allow it? Will we allow the light to better transform our lives? Will we become evidence for others that this life does mean something? Will we be witnessess to the light so that others may come to see?

As I look out at this moment I can begin to truly see. I begin to perceive the truth. I can begin to see the light, not streaming through the windows but coming from these very pews. As you become who you were called to be, as you seek repentence for sin, as you love your neighbor, as you reach out of this strong house to bring this gospel message, I begin to see the SON! LOOK! Look around you!

Look at the light around you. I see it in my brother and sister. It is there...there... and there...

Surely there is a God who reigns down light.

Shine well....Shine well

a tough passage

The Old Testament option for Easter 4 is a toughy. Moses, who God kept alive by the deception of an Egyptian princess. Moses, the man who was chosen by God at the burning bush. Moses, the man who fought with Pharaoh. Moses, who brought God's chosen people out of bondage, hears what I can only assume is a bitter and devastating word; he will not enter into the promised land that is just over the next mountain.

As we all struggle with the deep frailty of humanity and strain to see where God might be in the midst of tragedy it is really hard for me to read this passage from Numbers. I want my God to be warm and fuzzy. I want my God to do things my way. I want Moses to see the land of milk and honey just like I want a world without evil. Yet that's not the way things go. God's justice is beyond human comprehension. The Promised Land of Canaan is but a boil in comparison to the glory of the heavenly domain of God. People are subject to all sorts of illness; physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. These illness cause pain, this pain causes depression and anger, this anger can lead to unspeakable acts against other human beings and we don't know why; we can't fathom why. So, like Moses, we offer prayer. Moses wanted a leader for the people because he knew left to their own devices they'd surely be destroyed. We too pray for a leader, for God, to hold tight families torn by violence. We pray for God, our leader, to heal the injured. We pray for God, our leader, to deal with justice and mercy to the perpetrators of these awful acts just as we pray that he'd deal justly and with mercy with us.

Its tough to wrap my mind around God. Hell, its impossible. Which makes it clear to me that I can't offer answers to these tough questions of life. All I can do is offer prayer and a listening ear when these situations arise. Anything else would be presumptuous. Anything else would be to take the place of God in the world, and that need not be done thanks to the risen Lord, Jesus Christ our savior and redeemer.

to hear the voice of the LORD

Over the years I have been called by many labels; conservative, liberal, angry, sunshiny, sarcastic, presbyterian, and on, and on. Aside from the ridiculous label I have fixed upon myself, my favorite label used to describe me is charismatic. I don't like it because it means people will like me and find me personable. Instead I like it because it means that I have the Spirit within me.

Of all the possible gifts of he Spirit, the charism I wish I had a little better grasp on was discernment. I wish, like the collect for Easter 4 says, "that when we hear his voice we may know him who calls us each by name, and follow where he leads." But I don't. Its hard to know who's voice I hear. Is it my own will? Is it my desire to be comfortable? Is it the devil whispering over my shoulder? Or is it actually the will of God?

Discernment is a Spiritual gift that I seek in others. If I'm going to fail at discernment, I better have someone near by who can smack me across the back of the head and shout, "listen up!" Otherwise, I'm apt to go astray, to follow too much the devices and desires of my own heart, to turn my back on God.

As Christians, we naturally count ourselves among the disciples of Jesus. In so doing, we make a claim that we, as Jesus' sheep "hear his voice. He knows us, and we follow him." Oh if it were only that easy.

i'm no saul

But I do get a good chuckle out of the story of his conversion; it reminds me of my own call to ordained ministry. Well it mostly reminds me of how funny it is; how ridiculous it is that God might choose me to do this very important work. It makes me feel happy. It makes me feel special. It also makes me very nervous, as I, like Saul, have many, many qualities that make me an undesirable candidate. There have no doubt been people like Ananias who have come into contact with me and left thinking, "oh dear God no."

It just goes to show how transformative a personal relationship with God through Jesus Christ can be. Sure, Saul was an angry fellow doing dirty work, but BAM! he met Jesus on the road to Damascus and was utterly changed. Sure I am a bit contemptuous from time to time, but God is working in my heart to change me. God changed Saul into the great missionary to the Gentiles, Paul. God changed me from a shy and bitter high schooler into a confident and moderately optimistic seminarian. God changes people, and it is awesome.

one hungry lord and savior

One of the priests at my Field Ed site is also a chaplain at a local rehab hospital. She helps out on Sundays and does some pastoral care work here and there, but her main job is elsewhere as a chaplain. We were chatting before the 2nd Easter service this weekend about our respective Easter plans when she noted, "I have to preach at 1 at the hospital's service. One thing I noticed this year more than any other is the fact that the stone is rolled away. Its interesting what a big deal we make of the stone being rolled away. Wouldn't it be neater if the stone was not rolled away and Jesus was still gone?"

"Woooo," I thought, "that is something I've never thought much about either." Then I thought about the various post-resurrection/pre-ascension appearances. Jesus walks through locked doors, vanishes into thin air, appears out of nowhere, but he also eats, drinks, talks, and walked out of the tomb by way of the stone being rolled away.

It is with this conversation in mind that I arrived at the readings for 3 Easter. What a cool set of texts with one of the greatest Lectionary collects of all time attached. Paul's conversion, God's promise of restoration to Jeremiah, the Song of the Lamb in Revelation, and another awesome fish catch. All stories of misunderstanding what God is doing. All stories where God once again has to adjust our vision. All stories where the blind are made able to see; spiritually and physically.

What struck me today, however, was on the heels of that Easter discussion, just how powerful a thing it was to eat with Jesus in his resurrected state. Jesus was not a ghost haunting a group of depressed men and women; the work of their collective unconscious to rid themselves of fear and shame. Rather, Jesus was alive. Jesus is alive. He walked out of the tomb after the stone had been rolled away, and he feels compelled to eat with his disciples over and over again. The risen Jesus is one hungry lord and savior. Hungry for food, yes, but more so for the relationship that a meal together represents. To eat with Jesus is to a) accept his bodily resurrection and b) to join him in relationship.

While we no longer have the ability to eat with Jesus, we have plenty of chances to partake of him, and perhaps even better we have the opportunity to share a meal with the "least of these" which is, in effect, eating with the risen Jesus. In doing so, we can affirm what his disciples did so many years ago, He is risen indeed!

a special place in my heart

exists for ol' Thomas. Having grown up in a church named for him, and weeing in the stained glass and other artwork depictions of St. Thomas on his knees reaching into Jesus' side, I can't help but feel an affinity for him. He wanted what all the rest of us want, to see Jesus face-to-face. Its not that he didn't want to believe his friends, but rather he too wanted to experience the joy that came from seeing his rabbi, who was dead, among the living.

I'm not sure we can blame him for that. I think calling him "doubting Thomas" takes something away from the fact that we are all subject to doubt once-in-a-while. We all have questions be they about points of doctrine; the virgin birth, Creation, the filioque, the Trinity clause or otherwise; human sexuality, authority of bishops, vestments, whatever. It is ok to ask questions. It is ok to doubt. It is ok to struggle. Thomas is not chastised for his wanting to see and touch Jesus, but rather Jesus expresses the will of God, that we might believe without seeing. Its not that God doesn't want us to come to faith intellectually, but God wants trust, God wants faith, God wants relationship. A relationship is hard to sustain when one said is constantly doubting the other. Yet a relationship with God withstands all doubt and all testing. So Thomas wanted to see Jesus. I too would find this whole thing a lot easier if I got to touch Jesus' hands and side, but alas, that is not my lot in life. Instead, I'll question and I'll doubt from time to time, but I take solace in the blessing that comes from not seeing but believing.

the evolution of faith

Three portions of the Lectionary for Easter 2 struck me today.

1) When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you."

2) The high priest questioned them, saying, "We gave you strict orders not to teach in this name, yet here you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching and you are determined to bring this man's blood on us" But Peter and the apostles answered, "We must obey God rather than any human authority."

3) Almighty and everlasting God, who in the Paschal mystery established the new covenant of reconciliation: Grant that all who have been reborn into the fellowship of Christ's Body may show forth in their lives what they profess by their faith; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The Apostles, still unsure what to believe in John 20 have locked themselves in a room, fearful of those who killed their rabbi and friend. By Acts 5 they are so sure of their faith that they choose to obey God over the threat of punishment. What made them so confident? Faith! Like the Collect of Easter 2 says, they "showed forth in their lives what they professed by their faith." These men and women moved from fear to action in mere minutes through the power of Jesus Christ. What keeps us from action? What fears hold us at bay? Only Christ Jesus will move us to a life lived by faith.

Grant us so to die daily to sin

I really think that one of the bits of truth that our Baptist brothers and sisters retain in their tradition is that of baptism by full immersion. Baptism is a radical event; one in which we join Christ in the tomb in death and are resurrected to new life with him. I can picture this as a baptismal candidate is laid back and fully immersed under water (death) then regains their footing and arise from the watery grave to new life (resurrection). I have a harder time seeing the radicalness of it when we splash the top of their head with three tiny scoops of water. Where is the death without which there is no resurrection?

What really struck me among the myriad options for a principal Easter service is that first collect:

O God, who for our redemption gave your only-begotten Son to the death of the cross, and by his glorious resurrection delivered us from the power of our enemy: Grant us so to die daily to sin, that we may evermore live with him in the joy of his resurrection; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Our death to sin and resurrection to new life does not happen once and for all at our baptism. It seems that it instead needs to be a daily occurrence. Each day we are called upon to choose life by recalling our baptism, recalling that moment in which our old self died, choosing again to die so that we might join Jesus in his resurrection. Without this key step, without dying daily to sin, it is so easy to forget that without death there is no resurrection. Without this key step it is easy to live a life of triumphalism and forget that we are indeed sinners in every meaning of the word. Without this key step we lose our need for Jesus, for we are redeemed in our own perfection.

I don't remember my baptism; I was too young. I can assume that I wasn't dunked at 6 months at a Catholic Church. But I will remember the image of full immersion this day as I strive to die to sin so that I might join with Christ in the joy of his resurrection.

Easter is for Everyone

I don't title my sermons. I'm not sure why. Its not that I'm opposed to titling sermons, I just don't do it with mine. I am, however, playing with the idea of titling my Easter Vigil sermon, "Easter is for Everyone." What'da think? My reason for this is that prayer I got so jazzed about a few months ago; the one that ends the readings of the Vigil service.

O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look
favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred
mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry
out in tranquillity the plan of salvation; let the whole world
see and know that things which were cast down are being
raised up, and things which had grown old are being made
new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection
by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus
Christ our Lord. Amen.

This prayer, with its focus on the whole Church, seems apt to me for Easter morning, as the battered and broken body of Christ is resurrected, holes and all, for the sake of all humanity. But my Easter Vigil sermon has nothing to do with the readings for the primary services on Easter Day. Still, the sermon title holds, "Then Peter began to speak to them: 'I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.'"

Peter's realization that God is doing a new thing outside of the bonds of Peter's original understanding is essentially an realization that Easter is for Everyone. The work done on the cross, in the tomb, and ultimately in the resurrection is a work done so that "all might come within the reach of God's saving embrace."

Easter is for everyone, yet so many don't know that Easter is for them. That is why I want to title my sermon this one time. I want it to say in big letters somewhere (oh how I wish we had a marquee this one time) that Easter is for Everyone.

He is not here, but he has risen

Quite possibly the greatest sentence in all of human history is spoken by the Angels of the Lord in Luke's account of that first Easter morning. "He is not here, but he has risen." If I remember correctly, there is no punctuation in Koine Greek, so this could easily read, "He is not here. But he has RISEN!"

Lent has been quite a journey for me. On Shrove Tuesday my bishop came for a visit and two days later I was free to interview for jobs outside of the diocese. Lent has truly been a time in the wilderness. I haven't slept well. I think I have an ulcer. "Pray without ceasing" is my life whether I like it or not. I've been tempted by jobs. I've been reminded that this is a job search no matter how theologically flowery we are with our language. Its been a long Lent.

By the time Easter rolls around, I still won't know. As of now, my final job interview is scheduled for April 19th and then Holy Saturday begins. Cassie and I will then be in the place of the disciples on that crushing day, "what do we do now?" Though for us it will be very different. We have the words of Luke to sustain us, "He is not here, but he has risen!"

No matter how long our Lent lasts, no matter how disconcerting our Holy Saturday is, we know the promise of Easter; that Easter came once and for all. That is comforting as Lent drags on.

why do you look for the living among the dead?

This was a very interesting question when it was asked by the angels of the Lord to the women. It continues to be an interesting question for me today. Just as the women came to the tomb expecting to find Jesus, I often find myself searching for Jesus in old, dead places. The folks over at emergent have a wonderful way of talking about the gospel as coming to life in a community of believers. While for so many the ancient words of the scriptures are the land of the dead; old idioms which make no sense in our current context. But what if we, as followers of the way of Jesus, were to live in such a way that those ancient words were brought to life by example in our words and deeds?

Those of you who know me, know that I won't accept this life of living gospel to be only one of social justice and acceptance. What if the radical nature of the gospel wasn't encapsulated in the 1960s. What if there was something before "the way its always been began" in 1890? What if we were able to reconnect with the old, the ancient; and not the dead? You see, the Church has killed the gospel. Whether fundamentalist or liberal mainline, we kill it in the same way; legalism - or better said, the ability to tell in another the validity of their faith. We kill the gospel by using angry words to define others, while outsiders, nonbelievers look on and scoff at our hypocracy. Seekers come to our churches expecting to find life, and instead find themselves at an open coffin wake. They are able to see glimpses of the life we once had, but inevitably are struck by the mourning by some, and worse yet, those who continue to beat on the corpse though she has long since died.

This isn't a happy Easter post, and for that I'm sorry. But there is hope here. "If anyone is in Christ there is a new creation." As followers of the way of Jesus we can choose today to be a new creation; to be restored; to move from the place of the dead to the way of the living God. We can bring those ancient words of God's grace to life in our living. We can be a city upon a hill, a light to the nations, salt to the world. We have to want to live. We have to stop looking for the living Jesus among the dead, and seek the abundant life that comes as we join him in bringing the gospel to life day by day.

those wicked tenants

I wrote an exegesis paper (for the 99% of normal people who don't know what that means, go here) on Mark's version of the Parable of the Wicked Tenants. Let me tell you, they were some wicked folk. What is striking in both versions (its in Matthew also, but I'm not as familiar with that text) is just how foolish the landowner looks. In Mark, Jesus explains the allegorical interpretation of the parable with God playing the role of the landowner. God sets up a perfect vineyard so that all the tenants have to do is work the land and harvest the crop. God sends one servant, then another, and another, (in Mark he sends many more), and finally sends his only son; "surely they will respect him." But they don't. They kill the son in the hopes of having the vineyard to themselves. God looks like such a fool in this parable. Sending people over and over and over again to a group of hard-hearted tenants who want nothing more than material things.

Oh, wait, that's what God has done in salvation history. God sent prophet after prophet calling the people to repent (to turn around) and follow the will of God. Then, when that didn't work, he sent his only Son, God incarnate, to call the people back. And he was killed for power and prestige. Still today we can hear the voice of God calling us away from our lives enslaved to sin, and we ignore, we rationalize, we church-hop. God is foolish, but God's will is perfect wisdom. God knows that without him we are doomed to failure and God, who in the trinity is perfect relationship, eagerly desires relationship with us. And so he tries over and over and over again. We fill our lives with sex, with drugs, with material things, all in an attempt to drown God out, but as is the case in the parable, God will keep trying over and over and over again. Thanks be to God for his foolishness.

so very thirsty

Psalm 32:3

While I held my tongue, my bones withered away, *
because of my groaning all day long.

4

For your hand was heavy upon me day and night; *
my moisture was dried up as in the heat of summer.

5

Then I acknowledged my sin to you, *
and did not conceal my guilt.

6

I said," I will confess my transgressions to the LORD." *
Then you forgave me the guilt of my sin.

As one comes to a crossroads in life, it isn't uncommon to look back on the years and reflect. I have found myself doing that as SMW (I've decided to use the blogger thing and not refer to my wife by her name anymore, but rather an ancronym. She will heretofore be known as Smokin' Hot Wife, a name she will hate, but meh, she doesn't read this anyway)... as SMW and I prepare to leave Alexandria to find a new home and a new ministry.

Reading the Psalm for Lent 4c gave me pause today as I was forced to look back at the peaks and valleys of my spiritual life over the years. I have spent many a year feeling like the Psalmist, "withering away" and "dried up as in heat in summer." The spiritual life is one that is often hard to attend to. It is usually the first thing to go away when the calendar crunches and time seems to grow short. It is usually the first thing to go away when things are going smoothly. In some cases, it may even go away when times get tough. The spiritual life takes time and energy and often feels like it is a waste, there is no tangible results to show. This is a pitfall for many in ministry; the demands of a parish are such that they don't want to pay you to take care of your spiritual life, they pay you to take care of them.

The Psalm, however is clear. Without prayer comes death. With prayer comes life. It is something that requires intention and a clarity of purpose, but it is something that none of us can afford to forget.

ah the prodigal son

Such a rich passage. It seems like it is always right on the preaching horizon; something that must always be reckoned with. As a kid in Sunday School we always talked about the repentance of the younger son or the mercy of the Father, but more and more these days, I hear people talking about the hard heart of the elder son.

I guess it is because we don't like untidy endings to things that we teach our kids only part of the story. But it seems appropriate to be uncomfortable from time to time. I am uncomfortable with the elder son because I see a lot of me in him. I want to define the terms of just about everything, and often I end up bitter because life has not worked out according to my plans. "I have worked so hard, why does x get such and such?" It is a commonality to humanity, I believe, one that Jesus was keenly aware of as he told this parable. Be it the scribes and pharisees looking down on the sinners and tax collectors or Jesus' own disciples arguing over the seats at his right and left hand, we all have our expectations. We all assume God's will, God's justice is as we define it. What is so very clear in this parable, however, is that God's will and God's justice are God's and God's alone. We can work to bring our will close to that of the Father, but it is only by grace that we are made whole, perfected in the will of the Father. 'Til then, I'll be with you all, fighting for my method of justice to be lived out, sometimes pouting outside of the party because things didn't go my way. If you see me there, remind me of this story, and invite me to turn around and receive the grace that God gives all those who truly turn to him.

my first memorized bible verse

Came from the epistle for Lent 4c. "If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!" It was a part of the InterVarsity (I think) bible memorization series. My Young Life leader gave it to me, and I really wanted to learn the verses. "The only way to have scripture on your heart is to memorize it." Yeah, I let him down, though he was an amazing accountability partner. Anyway, I've found a new way to place scripture on my heart (see nearly all previous blog posts).

Still, I really like this verse. It is still sort of a mantra for me as I work as a radical centrist on a ministry of reconciliation within the church. We are all new creations, each being made new every minute by the sanctification of the Holy Spirit. Paul doesn't say we are made perfect, just new. We are still sinners; personally and corporately. As new creations, constantly being made new, we should see the sin being removed within our self as we, in humility, call our brothers and sisters to accountability for their transgressions. To do so, requires that we remain in conversation. To be new creations, one with another, learning from what the Spirit is doing in our brother and sister that might help us along our journey; personally and corporately, so that we once again might be made new in Christ.