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.

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.

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!)

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.

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.

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!

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.

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 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.