Lev. 19:1-2, 9-18; MT 5:38-48
The Second Mile
In Wednesday Morning Bible Study, we have read a number of books in the Bible ranging from Ruth to John, First and Second Samuel to the Book of Revelation. Each is a narrative about the relationship between God and God’s people. Common questions always arise in our classes such as: Who is God? Why is there evil? And how are we to live? The questions of an ancient people are questions for modern people today.
Through our Sunday morning worship readings, you and I are able to do a kind of Bible study catching sketches from Hebrew scripture and the New Testament that help define how our own personal stories relate to the narratives in the Bible. So, it is ironic that the one book that we keep saying we ought to study in Wednesday Morning Bible Study, the one book that is quoted as much as any biblical book in other books, and the one book that is least understood by Christians in the Bible is Leviticus.
In a way, it is by chance that Leviticus is even being read today. It is only included once in the three year lectionary cycle in Year A, which is this year, and only on the Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany. Depending upon the moveable day of Easter, and therefore, Lent, there are some years we do not reach seven Sundays in Epiphany. So, it is with some cause for amusement to congregations that for many preachers it will be their first, and maybe only, time to preach on Leviticus. Your preacher this morning falls into that camp!
To give you a short introduction to Leviticus requires a bit of background. It is a compilation of God’s laws given by Moses to the Israelites while they roamed in the desert for forty years and provides more words of God than any other biblical text. It is a set of “Holiness Codes” that the Israelites are to abide by. The word “holy” is used more than 100 times to refer to God describing God’s complete “otherness,” totally above all things in heaven and on earth. God’s holiness pervades the divine being and gives shape to God’s attributes. God’s love is a holy love. God’s mercy is a holy mercy. Even God’s wrath is a holy wrath. God’s very being is completely absent of any trace of sin.
In Leviticus, God calls Israel to be a holy people instructing them to be distinct and separated from other nations by giving them specific regulations to govern their lives. For many modern readers it is like a book of “do’s and “don’ts.” There is no narrative structure to speak of; and the admonitions about not eating shellfish, etc. seem antiquated and out of date. To decry Leviticus in this way is to miss the primary purpose of this book, which is to call men and women to holiness.
According to Moses, God has chosen them and set them apart giving them standards so that the world would know that they are God’s chosen people. In the lesson for today, God speaks through Moses saying they are to be holy and that they are not only to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness but also to treat one another as God’s chosen ones.
I am reminded of the story about an Abbott who led a conflicted monastery. The brothers never got along. They bickered. They fought. They were always mean to one another. The Abbot thought to himself: “This is no way for a group of Christians to act.” So the Abbot went to the wisest Christian he knew. The man was a hermit who had lived by himself for years in the mountains high above the abbey. The Abbot asked for the hermits help; and so the hermits came down to the abbey and said to the Abbot, “let me live with the brothers for one week and I will tell you what the problem is.”
When the hermit’s visit was over a week later, he told the Abbot what he discovered. He said that the Risen Christ has returned and that the Lord is in this abbey living among them as one of the monks. That evening at their weekly Chapter meeting the Abbot told all the brothers that the Lord was one of the monks among them. From that day on the monks became more respectful of one another; and day by day, they became more joyous with one another until the reputation of the Abbey as a holy and peaceful place was known throughout all the land.
“You shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.” These important words from Leviticus form the basis for part of Jesus’ words commonly known as The Golden Rule: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your mind; and the second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. According to Moses and Jesus, holiness is not some abstract idea; rather, it is to be a normative and regulative principle in everyday life. Personal holiness is attained not by detachment but by engagement. Holiness is found not just in cloisters but also on corners of every street. Holy means to be wholly given to God by totally serving and empowering others.
In our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus concludes his Sermon on the Mount by increasing the voltage of what is said in Leviticus. He says it is not enough to care for just your neighbor and people like yourself. He says we are to love our enemies and even pray for them. It is easy to go the first mile. In the first mile, we can treat people like us, friends like us, with forbearance and forgiveness. In the first mile, we can make sacrifices that hurt but do not burn. In the first mile, we can change our ways but not be transformed.
To go the first mile is to do what is required. But, to go the second mile is to love without return, to be struck but not to strike, to give until it hurts, and to know that an eye for eye will only make both people blind. The second mile is where excellence happens, where transformation occurs, and where we move into the realm of holiness. We do not only have to look to those icons of goodness like Mother Theresa, Martin Luther King, Jr., or Mahatma Gandhi, we only have to look for people who daily fulfill their obligations in the simple and common details of life whether they are an emergency nurse who takes a second shift for a sick friend, or a mother who takes care of a neighbor’s child, or a teacher who stays after school to teach an extra class of algebra to a student. Holiness is not hidden in high places but hides in plain sight.
The path to holiness begins this way: Ask yourself what you want others to do for you, then turn it around, take the initiative and go do it for them. This is second mile stuff – it is to live outward, not inward. I believe that Jesus’ exemplified going the extra mile for others. He did not just talk the talk on The Sermon on the Mount but walked the talk as he set his face towards Jerusalem and the Cross. He is the perfect example of spiritual leadership.
During the past two weeks, the vestry of Christ Church, is seeking to define qualities of spiritual leadership that all Christians are called to manifest through baptism. Given our changing world, the pastoral needs of the community, and the material requirements and financial demands of the church, your vestry realized that first mile ministry is not enough to sustain in the long run the vibrancy and vitality without leadership that will go the second mile.
I believe we are being called to a Second Mile Ministry to go the extra mile for our church, for our community and for the wider world. As a center for mission, Christ Church is blessed with many resources to be shared with others. It will require us to not look inward but outward. It will require us to ask discerning questions of one another and ourselves. It will require us to shift from being tourists on a trip to pilgrims on a journey. And I do not think it is something new but something very ancient that goes back to our forbearers who stood with Moses seeking to do God’s will.
The Book of Leviticus continues to serve as a guidepost to be holy people for a holy God. May we walk in the paths of righteousness doing justice, loving mercy, and walking the extra mile with our God. Amen
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Epiphany VI - Skip Windsor
Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Choose Life
The Hebrew scripture reading from the book of Deuteronomy is a message for today. It speaks about choosing life over death. “I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live…”
These words from Moses form the culmination of his farewell address to the Israelites before they are about to enter the land of Canaan to begin a new life. For forty years the nomadic people have wandered in the wilderness, escaped the tyranny of Egypt, turned away from God sometimes, bridled at the leadership of Moses when things were uncertain and dangerous, and longed for a haven that seemed too distant and too obscure.
Now by living on the plains of Moab they are about to reach the Promised Land and leave their failures behind. It is a liminal moment in their lives. They are leaving their past to live in a promised future foretold to them by Moses. But, in our lesson for this morning, Moses reminds them as they camp on the cusp of a new beginning in a new land that how they live today, and the choices they make today, will determine their future.
Today is no different. We are modern nomads moving into an uncertain future. How we live now and the choices we make now will determine our future. This is a self-evident truth for individuals, for communities, and for nations. It is certainly true for us in Needham today. We only have to look back to the past week and acknowledge with sadness what has befallen a Needham family and how all of us are so affected by the tragic death of one so young. As we seek answers that will never come easily, as we seek meaning in the clouds of our own worries, and as we seek to discern light in the midst of darkness, we are faced with the same choice asked of people in every generation who have faced trails and tribulations: “How are we to live?”
According to God, speaking through Moses, we are to choose life, accept life and create life. The great Lawgiver admonishes the Israelites not to be governed by their past wayward actions but to move into a future defined by God. Rather, Moses exhorts them to live into a renewed and restored relationship with God. The consequences of past sins, while severe, are not to be the final word of God. Rather, the God of Moses, the God who called Abraham into covenant, and called the people out of Egypt into a land of promise is a God of second chances.
To choose life is to be renewed, restored and forgiven.
About a month ago, a friend of mine, a gay man, asked me about repentance and forgiveness. He said that he knew his sexual orientation all his life. It wasn’t a lifestyle choice but who he was. God created him; yet, all through his life he has experienced isolation, prejudice, and loneliness. “Why would God want to do this to me?”
And then he asked me a question that still lingers in my heart and mind, “Instead of me repenting for who I am shouldn’t God be repenting for making a world so filled with hate, oppression, and prejudice?” In other words, he asked me about God asking us for our forgiveness for creating a world where young people die, where gays, women, people of color are marginalized, and where evil people do sinful things and bad things happen to good people.
The question scalds. It burns because there is no easy answer. We are left with the lament of the psalmist, who cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” The question lingers with us in times of desolation and loss.
The poet, Rilke, writes,
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions.”
You and I live the questions. I also live with the question by my friend who asked me: “Does God repent for making a broken world?” My response to him is my response to you this morning in the midst of the emotional trauma we have experienced this week and will continue to feel in the days ahead.
Perhaps God did repent. Perhaps, God saw that not all was good at the beginning. Perhaps, God decided to repent by re-creating a the world with a new creation by God giving us a Life through God’s son, Jesus Christ, who lived, suffered, and died like one of us.
It is in the mystery of the incarnation, where God repents, and even more loves, by taking the risk to become human and to experience the pain and the loss, the sorrow and the pity, as well as, the comfort and consolation, the joy and the triumph, of living a life. We may live under the shadow of the Cross of Christ. But, in faith, you and I live in the light of His resurrection
To choose life is to choose Jesus Christ. It is to choose one who became one of us so that we could become one with Him in this life and in the next. Through Him, we not only choose life, we also accept the life given to us and to put into practice the same grace with others as we have received from God through Jesus Christ. To choose life is not only to accept life but also to create life.
It means that God is still in process of creating a new world no longer defiled but blessed; and it our responsibility to be co-creators by building and strengthening our relationships with one another. As co-creators with God means that nothing stays the same except God’s abiding love that never changes and is eternal.
As co-creators, we are to take responsibility for our lives. No longer can we blame God for we are already a given and forgiven people through Jesus Christ. We cannot be merely observers but active participants in a holy hope to be instruments of God’s justice and peace where there is no place for hate, no place for war, no place for oppression.
It is time again to speak to one another about the importance of life and death, to speak about the forgiving God is a forgiven God, and to speak with conviction that the life, death and resurrection of Christ is the life given to us through God’s risking and vulnerable love. The truth is God gives us a Son; but even more than this, we are given a Life through Him that is hallowed and blessed. Let us take heed to the words of Moses,
“Today, I have set before you life and death… choose life so that you and your descendants shall live.”
Choose Life
The Hebrew scripture reading from the book of Deuteronomy is a message for today. It speaks about choosing life over death. “I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live…”
These words from Moses form the culmination of his farewell address to the Israelites before they are about to enter the land of Canaan to begin a new life. For forty years the nomadic people have wandered in the wilderness, escaped the tyranny of Egypt, turned away from God sometimes, bridled at the leadership of Moses when things were uncertain and dangerous, and longed for a haven that seemed too distant and too obscure.
Now by living on the plains of Moab they are about to reach the Promised Land and leave their failures behind. It is a liminal moment in their lives. They are leaving their past to live in a promised future foretold to them by Moses. But, in our lesson for this morning, Moses reminds them as they camp on the cusp of a new beginning in a new land that how they live today, and the choices they make today, will determine their future.
Today is no different. We are modern nomads moving into an uncertain future. How we live now and the choices we make now will determine our future. This is a self-evident truth for individuals, for communities, and for nations. It is certainly true for us in Needham today. We only have to look back to the past week and acknowledge with sadness what has befallen a Needham family and how all of us are so affected by the tragic death of one so young. As we seek answers that will never come easily, as we seek meaning in the clouds of our own worries, and as we seek to discern light in the midst of darkness, we are faced with the same choice asked of people in every generation who have faced trails and tribulations: “How are we to live?”
According to God, speaking through Moses, we are to choose life, accept life and create life. The great Lawgiver admonishes the Israelites not to be governed by their past wayward actions but to move into a future defined by God. Rather, Moses exhorts them to live into a renewed and restored relationship with God. The consequences of past sins, while severe, are not to be the final word of God. Rather, the God of Moses, the God who called Abraham into covenant, and called the people out of Egypt into a land of promise is a God of second chances.
To choose life is to be renewed, restored and forgiven.
About a month ago, a friend of mine, a gay man, asked me about repentance and forgiveness. He said that he knew his sexual orientation all his life. It wasn’t a lifestyle choice but who he was. God created him; yet, all through his life he has experienced isolation, prejudice, and loneliness. “Why would God want to do this to me?”
And then he asked me a question that still lingers in my heart and mind, “Instead of me repenting for who I am shouldn’t God be repenting for making a world so filled with hate, oppression, and prejudice?” In other words, he asked me about God asking us for our forgiveness for creating a world where young people die, where gays, women, people of color are marginalized, and where evil people do sinful things and bad things happen to good people.
The question scalds. It burns because there is no easy answer. We are left with the lament of the psalmist, who cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” The question lingers with us in times of desolation and loss.
The poet, Rilke, writes,
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions.”
You and I live the questions. I also live with the question by my friend who asked me: “Does God repent for making a broken world?” My response to him is my response to you this morning in the midst of the emotional trauma we have experienced this week and will continue to feel in the days ahead.
Perhaps God did repent. Perhaps, God saw that not all was good at the beginning. Perhaps, God decided to repent by re-creating a the world with a new creation by God giving us a Life through God’s son, Jesus Christ, who lived, suffered, and died like one of us.
It is in the mystery of the incarnation, where God repents, and even more loves, by taking the risk to become human and to experience the pain and the loss, the sorrow and the pity, as well as, the comfort and consolation, the joy and the triumph, of living a life. We may live under the shadow of the Cross of Christ. But, in faith, you and I live in the light of His resurrection
To choose life is to choose Jesus Christ. It is to choose one who became one of us so that we could become one with Him in this life and in the next. Through Him, we not only choose life, we also accept the life given to us and to put into practice the same grace with others as we have received from God through Jesus Christ. To choose life is not only to accept life but also to create life.
It means that God is still in process of creating a new world no longer defiled but blessed; and it our responsibility to be co-creators by building and strengthening our relationships with one another. As co-creators with God means that nothing stays the same except God’s abiding love that never changes and is eternal.
As co-creators, we are to take responsibility for our lives. No longer can we blame God for we are already a given and forgiven people through Jesus Christ. We cannot be merely observers but active participants in a holy hope to be instruments of God’s justice and peace where there is no place for hate, no place for war, no place for oppression.
It is time again to speak to one another about the importance of life and death, to speak about the forgiving God is a forgiven God, and to speak with conviction that the life, death and resurrection of Christ is the life given to us through God’s risking and vulnerable love. The truth is God gives us a Son; but even more than this, we are given a Life through Him that is hallowed and blessed. Let us take heed to the words of Moses,
“Today, I have set before you life and death… choose life so that you and your descendants shall live.”
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Epiphany V - Lynn Campbell
Isaiah 58:1-12
Matthew 5:13-20
“You ARE the light of the world.” In the name of the one God, Father, Son, Holy Spirit. Amen.
You are the light of the world. I’m sure many of you have heard this phrase and this gospel story more times that you can count. But one of the amazing things about reading and praying with Scripture, is that God often has something new to reveal to us. Time and time again, we have the opportunity to delve deeper into the distinctive richness that is God’s Word to us.
The words from day’s gospel take me back to a song I often sang as a child growing up in Catholic school- and a song I sang many, many, many times this summer while working at the Barbara C Harris summer camp. We sang this song with gusto and hand motions. I’ll spare you my singing, but I think you know the words: “this little light of mine, I’m gonna to let it shine. this little light of mine, I’m gonna to let it shine, this little light of mine, I’m gonna to let it shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine”. “Hide it under a bushel? NO! I’m gonna let it shine.” And on and on and on. The kids loved this song, just as I remember loving it has a child. There was something in the lyrics that I understood as a child. But there is even more that I get now as an adult.
You ARE the light of the world. We ARE the light of the world. As a child I didn’t doubt these words, but as an adult I certainly did. How could I be carrying the light of Christ? Surely I haven’t prayed enough, worked hard enough, or given enough to others to have such a light. Maybe if I just try harder. But that is not what today’s Gospel reading says. You ARE the light of the world, Jesus says. Not, you will become the light of the world, not, keep trying and eventually you will be the light of the world. No! You ARE the light of the world. This is a reality of our nature as beloved children of God. This truth is absolutely amazing and also a bit daunting. All of a sudden, it isn’t just a fun song from our childhood, it is a real call from God. We are commissioned to let our light shine for all to see so that they may see our good works and give glory to God.
Our first reading from Isaiah gives us insight into what it means to be a light in the world. In this reading we see the people of Israel, who have returned to Jerusalem from their exile, struggling with a city in need of rebuilding after its destruction and a way of life in need of renewal amidst the chaos and violence of their land. They fast and pray, yet God does not seem to hear or take notice of their plea for help. But God is present, God hears their supplication, but then points out the error of their ways and calls them to a new way.
God calls the people of Israel to the difference between the ritual practice they are offering, and the faithful practice that God asks of each of them. While they carry out the rituals of their faith, they continue to oppress their workers, and to fight with one another. There remains a large gap between their seeking after God and Gods ways AND their actual way of life.
“Is this not the fast that I choose”, says God, “to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them… Then your light shall break forth like the dawn…”
Being a light in the world, letting our light shine, asks us to take seriously the needs of others. It calls us to practice acts of justice, love, and mercy. It calls us to respond to the needs of others and to dismantle systems that cause the need in the first place. Being the light of the world challenges us to spend less, so we can give more, consume less so we can share more, conform less, so we can transformation more. THIS is how we let our light break forth into the world.
I’ve been blessed to have a handful of people in my life who have illustrated what it looks like to let our light break forth like the dawn. Being with them is like seeing the sun break through the clouds after days and days of snow and ice. Kim McElaney is one of these people for me. She was my campus minister and mentor while I was a student at Holy Cross. People were drawn to Kim, they were drawn to the light that seemed to come through her gentle eyes and her loving way. She was a woman of great prayer, even had a room in her house dedicated to prayer. Every day, she entered this room and opened her heart to God. And day after day she opened her heart to the people around her. She had a great love for the people of Mexico and Kenya. She often traveled to these countries to get to know these sisters and brothers better and to find ways that she can work for justice and peace in their land and in our own. She was the first person who helped me to see the connection between our Christian faith and the work of justice. She knew that she could not worship God without also caring for those who experience injustice.
People wanted to be around Kim, to share in what she had found. She stood like a lighthouse, shining the light that was given to her by God, and pointed people not to herself, but towards a deeper encounter with God and God’s people. Sadly, Kim died last year from cancer. But, her light, Christ’s light that was in her, continues to be seen in the world today. Many people live out the gospel in a deeper and more profound way because of the influence she had on them. She let God’s light break forth in her own life and encouraged others to do the same.
I hope there have been people in your life who have shown you what it means to let your light shine. But even more than that, I hope and pray that each of us discovers anew that we ARE the light of the world.
I know there are times when we do not feel the light within us. Perhaps you feel that way right now. I invite you to spend some time in prayer this week focusing on the light that IS in you. Trust God. The light is there. Ask God to help you recognize it. In prayer, imagine that light shining within you. At first it will start out small. Maybe just a faint light. Each day imagine the light becoming larger- taking over more and more of you. And then ask God how you are being called to let this light break forth from you. Ask how you are called to mend broken relationships, to work for justice, to practice kindness and to walk humbly with God. In the words of Isaiah: “If you remove the yoke from among you,… if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like noonday.” You, my sisters and brothers, ARE the light of the world. Let it shine.
Matthew 5:13-20
“You ARE the light of the world.” In the name of the one God, Father, Son, Holy Spirit. Amen.
You are the light of the world. I’m sure many of you have heard this phrase and this gospel story more times that you can count. But one of the amazing things about reading and praying with Scripture, is that God often has something new to reveal to us. Time and time again, we have the opportunity to delve deeper into the distinctive richness that is God’s Word to us.
The words from day’s gospel take me back to a song I often sang as a child growing up in Catholic school- and a song I sang many, many, many times this summer while working at the Barbara C Harris summer camp. We sang this song with gusto and hand motions. I’ll spare you my singing, but I think you know the words: “this little light of mine, I’m gonna to let it shine. this little light of mine, I’m gonna to let it shine, this little light of mine, I’m gonna to let it shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine”. “Hide it under a bushel? NO! I’m gonna let it shine.” And on and on and on. The kids loved this song, just as I remember loving it has a child. There was something in the lyrics that I understood as a child. But there is even more that I get now as an adult.
You ARE the light of the world. We ARE the light of the world. As a child I didn’t doubt these words, but as an adult I certainly did. How could I be carrying the light of Christ? Surely I haven’t prayed enough, worked hard enough, or given enough to others to have such a light. Maybe if I just try harder. But that is not what today’s Gospel reading says. You ARE the light of the world, Jesus says. Not, you will become the light of the world, not, keep trying and eventually you will be the light of the world. No! You ARE the light of the world. This is a reality of our nature as beloved children of God. This truth is absolutely amazing and also a bit daunting. All of a sudden, it isn’t just a fun song from our childhood, it is a real call from God. We are commissioned to let our light shine for all to see so that they may see our good works and give glory to God.
Our first reading from Isaiah gives us insight into what it means to be a light in the world. In this reading we see the people of Israel, who have returned to Jerusalem from their exile, struggling with a city in need of rebuilding after its destruction and a way of life in need of renewal amidst the chaos and violence of their land. They fast and pray, yet God does not seem to hear or take notice of their plea for help. But God is present, God hears their supplication, but then points out the error of their ways and calls them to a new way.
God calls the people of Israel to the difference between the ritual practice they are offering, and the faithful practice that God asks of each of them. While they carry out the rituals of their faith, they continue to oppress their workers, and to fight with one another. There remains a large gap between their seeking after God and Gods ways AND their actual way of life.
“Is this not the fast that I choose”, says God, “to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them… Then your light shall break forth like the dawn…”
Being a light in the world, letting our light shine, asks us to take seriously the needs of others. It calls us to practice acts of justice, love, and mercy. It calls us to respond to the needs of others and to dismantle systems that cause the need in the first place. Being the light of the world challenges us to spend less, so we can give more, consume less so we can share more, conform less, so we can transformation more. THIS is how we let our light break forth into the world.
I’ve been blessed to have a handful of people in my life who have illustrated what it looks like to let our light break forth like the dawn. Being with them is like seeing the sun break through the clouds after days and days of snow and ice. Kim McElaney is one of these people for me. She was my campus minister and mentor while I was a student at Holy Cross. People were drawn to Kim, they were drawn to the light that seemed to come through her gentle eyes and her loving way. She was a woman of great prayer, even had a room in her house dedicated to prayer. Every day, she entered this room and opened her heart to God. And day after day she opened her heart to the people around her. She had a great love for the people of Mexico and Kenya. She often traveled to these countries to get to know these sisters and brothers better and to find ways that she can work for justice and peace in their land and in our own. She was the first person who helped me to see the connection between our Christian faith and the work of justice. She knew that she could not worship God without also caring for those who experience injustice.
People wanted to be around Kim, to share in what she had found. She stood like a lighthouse, shining the light that was given to her by God, and pointed people not to herself, but towards a deeper encounter with God and God’s people. Sadly, Kim died last year from cancer. But, her light, Christ’s light that was in her, continues to be seen in the world today. Many people live out the gospel in a deeper and more profound way because of the influence she had on them. She let God’s light break forth in her own life and encouraged others to do the same.
I hope there have been people in your life who have shown you what it means to let your light shine. But even more than that, I hope and pray that each of us discovers anew that we ARE the light of the world.
I know there are times when we do not feel the light within us. Perhaps you feel that way right now. I invite you to spend some time in prayer this week focusing on the light that IS in you. Trust God. The light is there. Ask God to help you recognize it. In prayer, imagine that light shining within you. At first it will start out small. Maybe just a faint light. Each day imagine the light becoming larger- taking over more and more of you. And then ask God how you are being called to let this light break forth from you. Ask how you are called to mend broken relationships, to work for justice, to practice kindness and to walk humbly with God. In the words of Isaiah: “If you remove the yoke from among you,… if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like noonday.” You, my sisters and brothers, ARE the light of the world. Let it shine.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Epiphany III - Skip Windsor
Week of Prayer for Christian Unity
Let us pray:
“Where we cannot convince, let us be willing to persevere. Where we cannot be strong, let us be willing to endure. Where we cannot redeem, let us be willing to hope. We know that we cannot do everything, but help us, O God, to do something, for Jesus sake. Amen.”
On behalf of the men, women and children of Christ Church, I welcome our friends and neighbors from Carter Memorial United Methodist Church and their pastor, Gary Shaw, to our worship service this morning. You have traveled a much further distance than coming from 800 Highland Avenue to 1332 Highland Avenue.
We are grateful that you would leave your home church and come to worship with us; and this generosity of spirit is not lost on your brothers and sisters but most appreciated here at Christ Church.
When Caroline Edge and I first talked about and thought about our annual joint service in 2007, we did not know what we were getting ourselves into; nor, did our two communities know where it would lead. It truly was a “leap of faith.” From that moment on we have held three services (and this is the fourth) alternating between Carter Memorial Church and Christ Church allowing us to worship together in what our two denominations call “Interim Eucharistic Sharing.”
I prefer to call us “partners in faith.” Not only do we worship together, sing together, play softball together but we are also in business together: selling CD’s together! For those among us who do not have a CD they will be on sale after our service today!
I am grateful to Millie, Pam, Vera, our organists Jane and Aaron, and our joint adult and bells choirs for their fabulous and inspiring body of work contained on the combined Carter Memorial Church-Christ Church CD.
As our two communities gather together this morning, I would invite us to offer a hearty round of applause to our adult and bell choirs for their musical gifts, their generosity of time and talent, and for a marvelous offering to us and to the wider community. +++++
This is an appropriate Sunday to worship together since it comes during the week of the Prayer for Christian Unity which is book ended between two major feast days of the Christian Church: The Confession of St. Peter on January 18th and the Conversion of St. Paul on January 25th. Since 1908 these eight days in January are reserved as a time for special prayer for Christian Unity. For the past 50 years, a theme has been chosen and materials prepared co-operatively by ecumenical groups and circulated internationally. This year’s theme is based on the text from The Acts of the Apostles 2:42: “They devoted themselves to the apostle’s teaching and fellowship to the breaking of bread and the prayers.”
Prayers for Christian Unity serve to remind us that the early church was one church; and it is a call to us to renew our desire for unity among Methodists and Episcopalians and all Christian churches and for us to return to the essentials of our faith and life together. As we remember the first Christians and seek to renew our Christians ties with one another, it is helpful to always keep in mind that there is more that unites us than divides us in faith. Given the theme for this year’s prayers for Christian unity, we can discern that there are at least four pillars upon which we can agree as partners in faith.
The first pillar is the apostolic teaching of the Word. Before the gospels of Mark, Matthew, Luke and John were written towards the latter part of the first century, the apostles’ teaching and their own personal testimony guided those fledgling Christians about the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. These young Christians not only listened to the apostles’ teachings but also were devoted to them and to their words and witness. For a world in trouble, doubt and fear, this was Good News; and from this Good News was born the gospels so that successive generations would come to know the saving power of Jesus Christ and how this power was given to the Church in the person of the Holy Spirit.
The second pillar is fellowship. We are knit together believing there is one Lord, one faith, one baptism. We come together in community to share our time, talent and treasure; but, more than this we come together to share our joys and sorrows, our nightmares and our dreams, our burdens and our strengths. It is a ministry of our hospitality and presence where we greet and meet one another standing on common ground knowing that we are bound together – one to another – through the Holy Spirit. In the early church all who believed shared all things in common selling their possessions and goods, distributing to all, as any have need (Acts 2:44). The Romans would say about these 1st century Christians, “See how they loved one another,”
The third pillar is Holy Communion also called the Eucharist. It is the primary sacramental act of the Christian Church. By breaking bread with one another we become friends; we seek forgiveness; and we commit ourselves to one another. It is also a celebration of thanksgiving. It memorializes Jesus’ last meal with his disciples and commands them to continue this table fellowship in remembrance of his life, death and resurrection for we are called to be a sacramental people: offered, blessed, broken and given as Christ’s body to the world. As we are fed and nourished in Holy Communion, we are called to go forth to fed and heal and hungry and broken world.
The fourth pillar is prayer. Prayer is the source of our power being empowered by the Holy Spirit to go out and make disciples and to seek and serve Christ loving our neighbor as ourselves. Through prayer we come to know the creator, redeemer and sustainer better. Through prayer we are bound together into a holy host to love and care for the least, the last, the lost and the lonely. And through pray we come to see and know how we are being called into the world for common mission and a unified ministry of the baptized. We are given the Lord’s Prayer to share and to pray together so that in praising God, seeking God’s will, asking for our needs, for forgiveness, for deliverance, and for hope we will increase in faith.
The Word. Fellowship. Holy Communion. Prayer. These are four pillars that we claim from the apostles’ and from the first church that saw itself as one community. As Methodists or Episcopalians or Roman Catholics or Protestants, we can claim these pillars of unity as we seek to proclaim the Good New of Jesus Christ in the world today. I like to believe that what you and I do as the communities of Carter United Methodist Church and Christ Episcopal Church in worshiping together is to incarnate, in our own small, way the dream of Jesus who prayed that all of us might be one.
In the Gospel lesson for today, Jesus calls the first disciples, James and John and Andrew and Peter, to a great adventure in mission. Through divine guidance, Jesus confirmed the truth about a kingdom ministry that would be shared. He would not do it alone but called a diverse hardworking group of people to go with him. Those Jesus called first were fisherman whose ruddy looks, calloused hands, and salty personalities would be counterintuitive to the principalities and powers of his day. They had no experience in evangelism or stewardship. They had neither education nor credentials. Yet, they went and followed Jesus to help share in his mission to make the reign of God visible to all people for all time.
They did not know where it would lead them but they trusted Jesus and so left behind their nets to become fishers of people.
You and I are called to leave behind our old nets and netting and to undertake a great adventure in mission. In service to God and to God’s people, you and I can do so much more together and than we can do separately in proclaiming, teaching, and healing. As difficult as it sometimes can be being in dialogue about matters of governance and ministry between our two denominations, there is far more that unites us than divides us. I am grateful for this day. I am grateful for the gifts we share and the ministry we share in Needham; but most of all I am grateful to God in Christ who gives us the Holy Spirit who moves us and beckons us forth in common mission and purpose.
“Where we cannot convince, let us be willing to persevere. Where we cannot be strong, let us be willing to endure. Where we cannot redeem, let us be willing to hope. We know that we cannot do everything, but help us, O God, to do something, for Jesus sake. Amen.”
On behalf of the men, women and children of Christ Church, I welcome our friends and neighbors from Carter Memorial United Methodist Church and their pastor, Gary Shaw, to our worship service this morning. You have traveled a much further distance than coming from 800 Highland Avenue to 1332 Highland Avenue.
We are grateful that you would leave your home church and come to worship with us; and this generosity of spirit is not lost on your brothers and sisters but most appreciated here at Christ Church.
When Caroline Edge and I first talked about and thought about our annual joint service in 2007, we did not know what we were getting ourselves into; nor, did our two communities know where it would lead. It truly was a “leap of faith.” From that moment on we have held three services (and this is the fourth) alternating between Carter Memorial Church and Christ Church allowing us to worship together in what our two denominations call “Interim Eucharistic Sharing.”
I prefer to call us “partners in faith.” Not only do we worship together, sing together, play softball together but we are also in business together: selling CD’s together! For those among us who do not have a CD they will be on sale after our service today!
I am grateful to Millie, Pam, Vera, our organists Jane and Aaron, and our joint adult and bells choirs for their fabulous and inspiring body of work contained on the combined Carter Memorial Church-Christ Church CD.
As our two communities gather together this morning, I would invite us to offer a hearty round of applause to our adult and bell choirs for their musical gifts, their generosity of time and talent, and for a marvelous offering to us and to the wider community. +++++
This is an appropriate Sunday to worship together since it comes during the week of the Prayer for Christian Unity which is book ended between two major feast days of the Christian Church: The Confession of St. Peter on January 18th and the Conversion of St. Paul on January 25th. Since 1908 these eight days in January are reserved as a time for special prayer for Christian Unity. For the past 50 years, a theme has been chosen and materials prepared co-operatively by ecumenical groups and circulated internationally. This year’s theme is based on the text from The Acts of the Apostles 2:42: “They devoted themselves to the apostle’s teaching and fellowship to the breaking of bread and the prayers.”
Prayers for Christian Unity serve to remind us that the early church was one church; and it is a call to us to renew our desire for unity among Methodists and Episcopalians and all Christian churches and for us to return to the essentials of our faith and life together. As we remember the first Christians and seek to renew our Christians ties with one another, it is helpful to always keep in mind that there is more that unites us than divides us in faith. Given the theme for this year’s prayers for Christian unity, we can discern that there are at least four pillars upon which we can agree as partners in faith.
The first pillar is the apostolic teaching of the Word. Before the gospels of Mark, Matthew, Luke and John were written towards the latter part of the first century, the apostles’ teaching and their own personal testimony guided those fledgling Christians about the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. These young Christians not only listened to the apostles’ teachings but also were devoted to them and to their words and witness. For a world in trouble, doubt and fear, this was Good News; and from this Good News was born the gospels so that successive generations would come to know the saving power of Jesus Christ and how this power was given to the Church in the person of the Holy Spirit.
The second pillar is fellowship. We are knit together believing there is one Lord, one faith, one baptism. We come together in community to share our time, talent and treasure; but, more than this we come together to share our joys and sorrows, our nightmares and our dreams, our burdens and our strengths. It is a ministry of our hospitality and presence where we greet and meet one another standing on common ground knowing that we are bound together – one to another – through the Holy Spirit. In the early church all who believed shared all things in common selling their possessions and goods, distributing to all, as any have need (Acts 2:44). The Romans would say about these 1st century Christians, “See how they loved one another,”
The third pillar is Holy Communion also called the Eucharist. It is the primary sacramental act of the Christian Church. By breaking bread with one another we become friends; we seek forgiveness; and we commit ourselves to one another. It is also a celebration of thanksgiving. It memorializes Jesus’ last meal with his disciples and commands them to continue this table fellowship in remembrance of his life, death and resurrection for we are called to be a sacramental people: offered, blessed, broken and given as Christ’s body to the world. As we are fed and nourished in Holy Communion, we are called to go forth to fed and heal and hungry and broken world.
The fourth pillar is prayer. Prayer is the source of our power being empowered by the Holy Spirit to go out and make disciples and to seek and serve Christ loving our neighbor as ourselves. Through prayer we come to know the creator, redeemer and sustainer better. Through prayer we are bound together into a holy host to love and care for the least, the last, the lost and the lonely. And through pray we come to see and know how we are being called into the world for common mission and a unified ministry of the baptized. We are given the Lord’s Prayer to share and to pray together so that in praising God, seeking God’s will, asking for our needs, for forgiveness, for deliverance, and for hope we will increase in faith.
The Word. Fellowship. Holy Communion. Prayer. These are four pillars that we claim from the apostles’ and from the first church that saw itself as one community. As Methodists or Episcopalians or Roman Catholics or Protestants, we can claim these pillars of unity as we seek to proclaim the Good New of Jesus Christ in the world today. I like to believe that what you and I do as the communities of Carter United Methodist Church and Christ Episcopal Church in worshiping together is to incarnate, in our own small, way the dream of Jesus who prayed that all of us might be one.
In the Gospel lesson for today, Jesus calls the first disciples, James and John and Andrew and Peter, to a great adventure in mission. Through divine guidance, Jesus confirmed the truth about a kingdom ministry that would be shared. He would not do it alone but called a diverse hardworking group of people to go with him. Those Jesus called first were fisherman whose ruddy looks, calloused hands, and salty personalities would be counterintuitive to the principalities and powers of his day. They had no experience in evangelism or stewardship. They had neither education nor credentials. Yet, they went and followed Jesus to help share in his mission to make the reign of God visible to all people for all time.
They did not know where it would lead them but they trusted Jesus and so left behind their nets to become fishers of people.
You and I are called to leave behind our old nets and netting and to undertake a great adventure in mission. In service to God and to God’s people, you and I can do so much more together and than we can do separately in proclaiming, teaching, and healing. As difficult as it sometimes can be being in dialogue about matters of governance and ministry between our two denominations, there is far more that unites us than divides us. I am grateful for this day. I am grateful for the gifts we share and the ministry we share in Needham; but most of all I am grateful to God in Christ who gives us the Holy Spirit who moves us and beckons us forth in common mission and purpose.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Epiphany II - Holly Hartman
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, Amen.
When I was a young mother, I participated in a book group with members of my church. We discussed books that usually had to do with spirituality and parenting. One of the members said something back then that I have thought of many, many times. She was talking about how to explain certain religious concepts to her children, and said something like this:
“The things I hate about church is the use of the word ‘sin’. Sin makes it sound like we are evil. I don’t like the way it is said so much in worship. How can I explain it to my kids when it makes me feel so bad?”
None of us really knew what to say to that- She was right, of course,- the word “sin” DOES appear very prominently in our liturgy. We are a penitential people; we are asked, very clearly, to “confess our sins” before we partake in the Eucharistic Feast.
This bothered the young mother, and she was afraid that her kids would see themselves as “sinners.” And none of us at that time had the ability to help her with this. We all sat there in silence, and then, probably changed the subject to a more comfortable topic.
Unfortunately, some time passed, and we didn’t see this family very much anymore except for Christmas and Easter. I knew they were still church members but they quietly slipped away from being active in parish life. I often wondered if perhaps the comment that young mother made was more significant than we had realized. What exactly was she struggling with when she talked about her discomfort with the notion of sin? What was she looking for? It’s a question worth asking.
In the Gospel of John this morning, Jesus has just been identified by John the Baptist as the Son of God. There is no ambiguity about this anymore, the way we have seen in other gospels- it is clearly stated here that the Messiah whom we’ve been waiting for is indeed Jesus. It’s Jesus who is the Annointed One, the One who was pre-destined to be our Saviour. The disciples who have been following John the Baptist now turn and begin to follow Jesus. And one of the first things that Jesus does in this newly “outed” state of his is to ask them “What are you looking for?”
The significance of this question is enormous. What ARE we looking for in our spiritual faith journey? How many of us, like the young mother I knew, have questions along the way that we struggle with, maybe even voice, but never receive an answer? What are we looking for, and how can we find it?
By asking this question, Jesus issues his followers an invitation. An invitation to seek. An invitation to turn to Jesus and to ask the difficult questions that are naturally part of any spiritual journey. An invitation to examine some very difficult concepts that one must engage in in order to fully live into this Christian life that we are called to do.
If we don’t ever ask the question “What are we looking for?”, then we run the risk of either blindly accepting what we are told, making for a rather superficial spiritual life....or worse, denying that we even have questions, conflicts, struggles with our faith journey.....again, not living an authentic Christian life. If we don’t voice this question in one way or another, then we lose a sacred opportunity to explore the ways in which God might want us to follow Jesus. I believe that a Christian community- a church- is a place where we can offer each other the gift of sacred listening- that is, allowing each other the space to ask difficult questions and to seek the answers together as a people who have committed themselves to following Jesus.
Looking back, the group of young mothers didn’t really have the tools to be able to help our friend with her concerns about sin. We listened, but by saying nothing, might have made her feel badly for even asking the question. I am speculating now, but I believe we missed the opportunity to help her -and ourselves- seek and find some answers about this notion of “sin”, for example, that may have helped her feel more connected to our community and more able as a young mom to help her children with their faith journey.
I am not suggesting, of course, that we all need to be Bible scholars or enlightened spiritual gurus, but I do think that by asking the question “What are we looking for?”, we can begin to find some answers that will deepen our understanding of what God, through his son Jesus Christ’s example, is calling us to be.
Let’s go back to the concept of sin. On one hand, I can understand how it might be off putting to label ourselves as “sinners”- and in some circles, this word is used intentionally to promote guilt, which is turn, acts as an agent of control to make people think about things in a certain, narrow way.
On the other hand, however, with some discussion and wrestling with this word “sin”, we might realize that acknowledging our sins is really, in fact, acknowledging our humanity.
Yes, we, as human beings, are sinners. We ALL make mistakes that hurt other people and ourselves. It’s perhaps an unfortunate yet very expected part of our human condition, and we cannot avoid - we “err and stray from God’s ways like lost sheep, by what we have done and by what we have left undone”, over and over again, in ways both small and large, every day of our lives.
But instead of despising ourselves for our “sin”, the invitation from Jesus is one that comes out of love. There is hope. The Gospel reading this morning speaks to this hope. God has sent us a “Lamb of God”- Jesus, of course- to “take away the sins of the world.” We don’t need to be isolated and ashamed when we commit acts of sin. We don’t need to deny them. We take comfort in the knowledge that there is someone- Jesus- who’s job it is to redeem us of our sins.
Within this softer context, perhaps the mother that I knew so long ago at another church, may have been able to eventually find relief and even joy in the act of confessing her sins- aloud and in community, together on Sunday mornings- acknowledging and accepting her very human state and asking for a new start- before partaking in the Eucharistic Feast.
I haven’t been at Christ Church very long- just about four months now- but I see many places in this community where people are given opportunity to ask difficult questions and to seek answers together. One such place occurs every Sunday, between the services, when people are invited into the Memorial Room to discuss the mornings readings. I haven’t been to the Wednesday morning Bible Study but imagine that a similar discourse occurs there. The intercessory prayer group, which meets monthly after church to pray for those in need, is a place where church members speak very openly about their struggles and their faith. I am hoping that, within a short time, a women’s retreat, a book group, and perhaps a group for young mothers will also be places for open seeking and sharing one’s spiritual journey with others.
I pray that this community of Christ Church will continue to strive to be a place where her members, her People of God, will know what it means to ask the question “What are we looking for?” and will know how to seek each other out to find answers together along the way.
Please pray with me.
God, Thank you for sending us your Son. Our Messiah, our Annointed One, our Lamb of God. Thank you for giving us each other and for always reminding us of your steadfast love for us and desire to follow the ways of your Son.
Jesus, Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world. Jesus, bearer of our sins- have mercy on us. Grant us thy peace. Amen.
When I was a young mother, I participated in a book group with members of my church. We discussed books that usually had to do with spirituality and parenting. One of the members said something back then that I have thought of many, many times. She was talking about how to explain certain religious concepts to her children, and said something like this:
“The things I hate about church is the use of the word ‘sin’. Sin makes it sound like we are evil. I don’t like the way it is said so much in worship. How can I explain it to my kids when it makes me feel so bad?”
None of us really knew what to say to that- She was right, of course,- the word “sin” DOES appear very prominently in our liturgy. We are a penitential people; we are asked, very clearly, to “confess our sins” before we partake in the Eucharistic Feast.
This bothered the young mother, and she was afraid that her kids would see themselves as “sinners.” And none of us at that time had the ability to help her with this. We all sat there in silence, and then, probably changed the subject to a more comfortable topic.
Unfortunately, some time passed, and we didn’t see this family very much anymore except for Christmas and Easter. I knew they were still church members but they quietly slipped away from being active in parish life. I often wondered if perhaps the comment that young mother made was more significant than we had realized. What exactly was she struggling with when she talked about her discomfort with the notion of sin? What was she looking for? It’s a question worth asking.
In the Gospel of John this morning, Jesus has just been identified by John the Baptist as the Son of God. There is no ambiguity about this anymore, the way we have seen in other gospels- it is clearly stated here that the Messiah whom we’ve been waiting for is indeed Jesus. It’s Jesus who is the Annointed One, the One who was pre-destined to be our Saviour. The disciples who have been following John the Baptist now turn and begin to follow Jesus. And one of the first things that Jesus does in this newly “outed” state of his is to ask them “What are you looking for?”
The significance of this question is enormous. What ARE we looking for in our spiritual faith journey? How many of us, like the young mother I knew, have questions along the way that we struggle with, maybe even voice, but never receive an answer? What are we looking for, and how can we find it?
By asking this question, Jesus issues his followers an invitation. An invitation to seek. An invitation to turn to Jesus and to ask the difficult questions that are naturally part of any spiritual journey. An invitation to examine some very difficult concepts that one must engage in in order to fully live into this Christian life that we are called to do.
If we don’t ever ask the question “What are we looking for?”, then we run the risk of either blindly accepting what we are told, making for a rather superficial spiritual life....or worse, denying that we even have questions, conflicts, struggles with our faith journey.....again, not living an authentic Christian life. If we don’t voice this question in one way or another, then we lose a sacred opportunity to explore the ways in which God might want us to follow Jesus. I believe that a Christian community- a church- is a place where we can offer each other the gift of sacred listening- that is, allowing each other the space to ask difficult questions and to seek the answers together as a people who have committed themselves to following Jesus.
Looking back, the group of young mothers didn’t really have the tools to be able to help our friend with her concerns about sin. We listened, but by saying nothing, might have made her feel badly for even asking the question. I am speculating now, but I believe we missed the opportunity to help her -and ourselves- seek and find some answers about this notion of “sin”, for example, that may have helped her feel more connected to our community and more able as a young mom to help her children with their faith journey.
I am not suggesting, of course, that we all need to be Bible scholars or enlightened spiritual gurus, but I do think that by asking the question “What are we looking for?”, we can begin to find some answers that will deepen our understanding of what God, through his son Jesus Christ’s example, is calling us to be.
Let’s go back to the concept of sin. On one hand, I can understand how it might be off putting to label ourselves as “sinners”- and in some circles, this word is used intentionally to promote guilt, which is turn, acts as an agent of control to make people think about things in a certain, narrow way.
On the other hand, however, with some discussion and wrestling with this word “sin”, we might realize that acknowledging our sins is really, in fact, acknowledging our humanity.
Yes, we, as human beings, are sinners. We ALL make mistakes that hurt other people and ourselves. It’s perhaps an unfortunate yet very expected part of our human condition, and we cannot avoid - we “err and stray from God’s ways like lost sheep, by what we have done and by what we have left undone”, over and over again, in ways both small and large, every day of our lives.
But instead of despising ourselves for our “sin”, the invitation from Jesus is one that comes out of love. There is hope. The Gospel reading this morning speaks to this hope. God has sent us a “Lamb of God”- Jesus, of course- to “take away the sins of the world.” We don’t need to be isolated and ashamed when we commit acts of sin. We don’t need to deny them. We take comfort in the knowledge that there is someone- Jesus- who’s job it is to redeem us of our sins.
Within this softer context, perhaps the mother that I knew so long ago at another church, may have been able to eventually find relief and even joy in the act of confessing her sins- aloud and in community, together on Sunday mornings- acknowledging and accepting her very human state and asking for a new start- before partaking in the Eucharistic Feast.
I haven’t been at Christ Church very long- just about four months now- but I see many places in this community where people are given opportunity to ask difficult questions and to seek answers together. One such place occurs every Sunday, between the services, when people are invited into the Memorial Room to discuss the mornings readings. I haven’t been to the Wednesday morning Bible Study but imagine that a similar discourse occurs there. The intercessory prayer group, which meets monthly after church to pray for those in need, is a place where church members speak very openly about their struggles and their faith. I am hoping that, within a short time, a women’s retreat, a book group, and perhaps a group for young mothers will also be places for open seeking and sharing one’s spiritual journey with others.
I pray that this community of Christ Church will continue to strive to be a place where her members, her People of God, will know what it means to ask the question “What are we looking for?” and will know how to seek each other out to find answers together along the way.
Please pray with me.
God, Thank you for sending us your Son. Our Messiah, our Annointed One, our Lamb of God. Thank you for giving us each other and for always reminding us of your steadfast love for us and desire to follow the ways of your Son.
Jesus, Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world. Jesus, bearer of our sins- have mercy on us. Grant us thy peace. Amen.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Epiphany I (Baptism of Our Lord) - Timothy Kenslea
Why do we get baptized? My guess is that many, even most, of us here today have been baptized, as two new young members of our church are about to be. I doubt many of us gave it much thought at the time—especially since we probably had as little to say about the decision to be baptized as these young people did.
We do know that baptism has been one of the central sacramental traditions of the church from its beginning. All of us are familiar with some sturdy conventional interpretations of the meaning of the rite—interpretations that are rooted in scripture.
In Matthew’s gospel, just before today’s reading, John the Baptist refers to the baptism he administers “with water” as being “for repentance” (Mt 3:11). Many of us have learned to associate baptism in that way with cleansing from sin. Paul, in his letter to the Galatians, tells them to consider baptism a kind of initiation rite, in which the newly baptized “clothed [them]selves with Christ” (Gal 3:27).
In the gospel accounts of the baptism of Jesus, though, Jesus gives us another way to think about baptism. Matthew’s account, which we heard today, is particularly instructive. Matthew’s is the only gospel that records a remarkable conversation between Jesus and John the Baptist. I imagine it taking place in a kind of stage whisper. John expresses real surprise: “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” Jesus replies, “Let it be so now.” He adds an assurance that this will be the way for them — for both of them —“to fulfill all righteousness.”
We know, when they had this conversation, that Jesus and John knew of each other — in all of the gospels, John the Baptist gives his followers the promise that “one who is more powerful than I is coming after me” (Mt 3:11). We have reason to believe that Jesus and John knew each other, maybe even quite well. Matthew doesn't tell us this, but Luke — the other gospel that recounts Jesus’ nativity, infancy, and childhood — tells us that their mothers are relatives (Lk 1:36). So John, who sees his baptism as one of repentance, expresses surprise. The roles should be reversed, he insists. Jesus does not need to be cleansed from sin; nor does he need to put on Christ like a garment.
So why does Jesus go to John to be baptized? What are we, the baptized and the about-to-be-baptized, to make of the example of Jesus, as we try to follow it, in this case?
I think it’s important, in trying to understand Jesus’ baptism by John, to remember that this is not just baptism with water, but baptism in a river. To be baptized by John, Jesus steps into the waters of the River Jordan.
Rivers exert a powerful pull on our imagination, still. I started to make a list, off the top of my head, of references to rivers in popular culture. I stopped counting songs after I came up with Bruce Springsteen, Billy Joel, Sarah McLachlan, Joni Mitchell, the Talking Heads. It’s the river of life, the river of dreams; it’s the river we go down to, we’re drawn to; it’s the river we want to be taken to, the river we wish we could skate away on. Anyone who grew up in my generation remembers Michael, rowing that boat ashore on the deep, wide, chilly, cold Jordan River. Fans of the Broadway musical can never forget how Old Man River just keeps rolling along.
A river forms the backbone of what’s arguably the greatest American novel, in which Huck Finn travels along the Mississippi on a journey from immaturity almost all the way to responsible adulthood, and his friend Jim makes his journey from slavery, to freedom, back to slavery, and finally back to freedom for good.
But rivers had, if possible, an even more powerful hold on the imaginations of people who lived at the time of Jesus. When I think, as a history teacher, of all the things rivers meant in the ancient world, two things stand out: A river is a highway, calling people forward on a journey; and a river is a boundary, challenging people with the prospect of what's on the other side, if only they dare to cross.
At the start of the long journey that will take him to Calvary — to the cross and the tomb and the stone rolled away — Jesus steps into the river to be baptized by John, “to fulfill all righteousness.” When he steps out of the river, a voice from heaven calls him “my Son, the Beloved.”
Jesus is calling us to follow his example in baptism. What does this mean for us? In this light, it means to embark on that journey, to cross over that river with him, to break down those boundaries—whether they separate nation from nation, race from race, or class from class.
How are we to do this? This is why the choice of today’s second reading, from the Acts of the Apostles, is so felicitous. The connection is not just that Peter mentions Jesus’ baptism by John the Baptist. Peter also gives us a powerful example of what we, as baptized people, are called to do.
Peter is such a complex, engaging, sympathetic, flawed character in the gospels. He stands for us. Witnessing the Transfiguration, his response is almost comically enthusiastic: “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three [tents] here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” (Mt 17:4). He fell asleep during the Lord’s dark night of the soul at Gethsemane (Mt 26:38-46). And of course, what we always remember most about Peter is that on that night of Jesus’ arrest and torture by the Romans, he denied that he knew Jesus — three times — just a few hour after insisting, “Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you” (Mt 26:35). And this from the man Jesus said would be the rock (Mt 16:18) on which he would build his church!
But here, in the Acts of the Apostles, we see a different Peter — a transformed Peter. To place today’s reading in context: Peter is on a journey to Cæsarea. He crosses over an unspoken boundary when he preaches the good news to the Gentiles there. “We are witnesses,” Peter says of himself and his fellow disciples. “[We] were chosen by God as witnesses.”
Peter and the other apostles had experienced a different kind of baptism at Pentecost (Acts 2:1-4) — not a baptism by water, but a baptism “with the Holy Spirit and fire” — the one that John had told his followers the one who came after him would bring (Mt 3:11).
Empowered by his baptism by fire, and by the experience of seeing, and eating and drinking with, the risen Lord, Peter — even weak, flawed, self-important Peter —is able to proclaim his startling message. His fear has left him. His testimony about Jesus is simple and clear: “Everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”
As it was for Peter, our baptism is not just a ritual of initiation or absolution. It is a call to us, flawed as we are, to follow Christ, and to be witnesses to his message of salvation. However we fulfill that call to be witnesses, may we have Peter’s ultimate humility in recognizing that it is a journey not of our own choosing but of God’s. May we recognize that in our baptism we are chosen and empowered by God to go on this journey, to break through boundaries beyond our imagining—we are called by Jesus to follow him, and step into the river.
We do know that baptism has been one of the central sacramental traditions of the church from its beginning. All of us are familiar with some sturdy conventional interpretations of the meaning of the rite—interpretations that are rooted in scripture.
In Matthew’s gospel, just before today’s reading, John the Baptist refers to the baptism he administers “with water” as being “for repentance” (Mt 3:11). Many of us have learned to associate baptism in that way with cleansing from sin. Paul, in his letter to the Galatians, tells them to consider baptism a kind of initiation rite, in which the newly baptized “clothed [them]selves with Christ” (Gal 3:27).
In the gospel accounts of the baptism of Jesus, though, Jesus gives us another way to think about baptism. Matthew’s account, which we heard today, is particularly instructive. Matthew’s is the only gospel that records a remarkable conversation between Jesus and John the Baptist. I imagine it taking place in a kind of stage whisper. John expresses real surprise: “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” Jesus replies, “Let it be so now.” He adds an assurance that this will be the way for them — for both of them —“to fulfill all righteousness.”
We know, when they had this conversation, that Jesus and John knew of each other — in all of the gospels, John the Baptist gives his followers the promise that “one who is more powerful than I is coming after me” (Mt 3:11). We have reason to believe that Jesus and John knew each other, maybe even quite well. Matthew doesn't tell us this, but Luke — the other gospel that recounts Jesus’ nativity, infancy, and childhood — tells us that their mothers are relatives (Lk 1:36). So John, who sees his baptism as one of repentance, expresses surprise. The roles should be reversed, he insists. Jesus does not need to be cleansed from sin; nor does he need to put on Christ like a garment.
So why does Jesus go to John to be baptized? What are we, the baptized and the about-to-be-baptized, to make of the example of Jesus, as we try to follow it, in this case?
I think it’s important, in trying to understand Jesus’ baptism by John, to remember that this is not just baptism with water, but baptism in a river. To be baptized by John, Jesus steps into the waters of the River Jordan.
Rivers exert a powerful pull on our imagination, still. I started to make a list, off the top of my head, of references to rivers in popular culture. I stopped counting songs after I came up with Bruce Springsteen, Billy Joel, Sarah McLachlan, Joni Mitchell, the Talking Heads. It’s the river of life, the river of dreams; it’s the river we go down to, we’re drawn to; it’s the river we want to be taken to, the river we wish we could skate away on. Anyone who grew up in my generation remembers Michael, rowing that boat ashore on the deep, wide, chilly, cold Jordan River. Fans of the Broadway musical can never forget how Old Man River just keeps rolling along.
A river forms the backbone of what’s arguably the greatest American novel, in which Huck Finn travels along the Mississippi on a journey from immaturity almost all the way to responsible adulthood, and his friend Jim makes his journey from slavery, to freedom, back to slavery, and finally back to freedom for good.
But rivers had, if possible, an even more powerful hold on the imaginations of people who lived at the time of Jesus. When I think, as a history teacher, of all the things rivers meant in the ancient world, two things stand out: A river is a highway, calling people forward on a journey; and a river is a boundary, challenging people with the prospect of what's on the other side, if only they dare to cross.
At the start of the long journey that will take him to Calvary — to the cross and the tomb and the stone rolled away — Jesus steps into the river to be baptized by John, “to fulfill all righteousness.” When he steps out of the river, a voice from heaven calls him “my Son, the Beloved.”
Jesus is calling us to follow his example in baptism. What does this mean for us? In this light, it means to embark on that journey, to cross over that river with him, to break down those boundaries—whether they separate nation from nation, race from race, or class from class.
How are we to do this? This is why the choice of today’s second reading, from the Acts of the Apostles, is so felicitous. The connection is not just that Peter mentions Jesus’ baptism by John the Baptist. Peter also gives us a powerful example of what we, as baptized people, are called to do.
Peter is such a complex, engaging, sympathetic, flawed character in the gospels. He stands for us. Witnessing the Transfiguration, his response is almost comically enthusiastic: “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three [tents] here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” (Mt 17:4). He fell asleep during the Lord’s dark night of the soul at Gethsemane (Mt 26:38-46). And of course, what we always remember most about Peter is that on that night of Jesus’ arrest and torture by the Romans, he denied that he knew Jesus — three times — just a few hour after insisting, “Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you” (Mt 26:35). And this from the man Jesus said would be the rock (Mt 16:18) on which he would build his church!
But here, in the Acts of the Apostles, we see a different Peter — a transformed Peter. To place today’s reading in context: Peter is on a journey to Cæsarea. He crosses over an unspoken boundary when he preaches the good news to the Gentiles there. “We are witnesses,” Peter says of himself and his fellow disciples. “[We] were chosen by God as witnesses.”
Peter and the other apostles had experienced a different kind of baptism at Pentecost (Acts 2:1-4) — not a baptism by water, but a baptism “with the Holy Spirit and fire” — the one that John had told his followers the one who came after him would bring (Mt 3:11).
Empowered by his baptism by fire, and by the experience of seeing, and eating and drinking with, the risen Lord, Peter — even weak, flawed, self-important Peter —is able to proclaim his startling message. His fear has left him. His testimony about Jesus is simple and clear: “Everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”
As it was for Peter, our baptism is not just a ritual of initiation or absolution. It is a call to us, flawed as we are, to follow Christ, and to be witnesses to his message of salvation. However we fulfill that call to be witnesses, may we have Peter’s ultimate humility in recognizing that it is a journey not of our own choosing but of God’s. May we recognize that in our baptism we are chosen and empowered by God to go on this journey, to break through boundaries beyond our imagining—we are called by Jesus to follow him, and step into the river.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Advent I - Skip Windsor
Matthew 24:36-44
What Time It Is
It’s happened already. No sooner than the turkey is gone and the pumpkin pie is eaten, the perennial Christmas songs begin playing on the radio, providing background music at Starbucks, and filling the mall’s walls with sounds of “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer,” “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas,” and “Feliz Navidad.” Like everyone else, it is easy to get in the swing of things and accompany Johnny Mathis on the radio when he sings, “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire with Jack Frost nipping at our noses…” After hearing Burl Ives and Jose Feliciano’s continuous voices awhile, one wonders where are the Christmas songs? The real Christmas songs like “Come all ye faithful,” “It came upon a midnight clear,” or “Hark! The herald angels sing.”
What Time It Is
It’s happened already. No sooner than the turkey is gone and the pumpkin pie is eaten, the perennial Christmas songs begin playing on the radio, providing background music at Starbucks, and filling the mall’s walls with sounds of “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer,” “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas,” and “Feliz Navidad.” Like everyone else, it is easy to get in the swing of things and accompany Johnny Mathis on the radio when he sings, “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire with Jack Frost nipping at our noses…” After hearing Burl Ives and Jose Feliciano’s continuous voices awhile, one wonders where are the Christmas songs? The real Christmas songs like “Come all ye faithful,” “It came upon a midnight clear,” or “Hark! The herald angels sing.”
In previous generations, children grew up singing songs about the birth of the Christ Child, about star struck shepherds, about choirs of angels, and about kings bearing gifts. If not in church, where? There are few public places today where a youngster can hear the Christmas hymns like the ones contained in your hymnals in front of you. And the irony of it all is that we are nowhere near December 25th yet. It is still November. There is still a month to go before Jesus is born. So, today’s lesson from Matthew comes like a shock of flowing ice water over us making Jack Frost looking quite pale in comparison. Here we hear Jesus as a grown man. He is fully into his public ministry. He has already called the disciples, provoked the principalities and powers, and preached the Sermon on the Mount.
Now he is telling his followers to be ready. “About that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, only the Father.” The key word is this sentence is “that.” That day means when there will be a reckoning. When things that were up will be down and when those things that were down will be raised up. Even Jesus declares not to know the day when will be the coming of the Son of Man. Only God knows. This warning shot comes over the bows of the commercial ship we call “Christmas.” Jesus is warning his disciples to pay attention to the signs that are all around them that something, someone, is coming. The irony of ironies as we begin a new Christian Year is that the early season of Advent speaks not about Bethlehem and birth but about the return of the Risen Christ, the Alpha and the Omega, in the fullness of his glory. This is definitely not the message from Macy’s. It is the message from the Father.
Placing the Gospel lesson about End Times at the beginning of Advent is not to highlight our lassitude but to live with awareness of the expectations and obligations of God’s reign. This is not to put the fear of God in us or place us on heightened alert like some imminent terrorist attack. Rather, it is to mark a way of living and embracing the unexpected in ways that grounds our interactions and relationships on a daily basis. I am reminded of the story of an innkeeper on Nantucket who as a little girl helped her parents in the summer to greet and befriend the guests of the inn. She remembers a set of elderly sisters from Boston who came every August and never ventured forth but sat out on the porch and read their Bibles. Year after year, the sisters came in August, sat on the porch, and read their Bibles. Finally, when she was much older, the future innkeeper’s curiosity got the best of her; and she asked them why they read their Bibles year in and year out. She never forgot what they said. They said, “We are cramming for finals.”
Advent is about cramming for finals not knowing when the final exam is going to be. A gardener tends to her garden all the time. She must weed, water, and till being patient but ready at all times. A soldier on duty must be alert and every watchful to protect his troops. A lifeguard must be vigilant watching the people in the water but also the shape of the waves, the movement of the current, and the impending rain clouds. Just as a gardener, a soldier, and a lifeguard are watchful and need full attentiveness so you and I need to be attending to our spiritual lives. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus is telling his followers about being attentive to the obligations of being a disciple and living up to the expectations of those who wish to follow him. In the midst of the demands of daily life as people nurture their families, cultivate their careers, and sustain their health, Jesus asks the disciples to be attentive to their relationship with God.
Stephen Covey in well-regarded book on management called Seven Habits of Highly Effective People speaks in one chapter about time management. He proposes that people live in four spheres or quadrants: urgent and important, urgent and not important, not urgent but important, and not urgent and not important. Some of those categories are obvious: a random telephone solicitation is not important and not urgent; a hospital emergency is urgent and important; deciding what tip to leave after lunch is urgent but not important (except to the waiter!); and going to exercise is important or not urgent. Covey believes that the one people need to work on most is the important but not urgent sphere of our lives. It is here where we decide about our health: physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. And it is in this quadrant where Advent lives.
Imagine instead of counting calories you could count your blessings. Instead of fretting about your food intake you could consider your spiritual intake in worship, prayer, contemplation and reading. Instead of worrying about tomorrow you could be nurturing what surrounds you today. The invitation of Advent is to live where you will be most healthy in body, mind and spirit. It is the season to take stock of what is really important in life. It is the time to walk in the light of the Lord. It is the time to make connections with God and with one another. As we are already being commanded to consume this holiday, we are invited to go another way and to share with others God’s gift to us through Jesus Christ. It means that as we take care of ourselves we are to take care of others as well. If we become more attuned to the spiritual and material needs of others, we will not worry about tomorrow for in today there plenty to consider, reflect and do.
Just as we think about the holiday shopping season not being about the Nativity of Jesus, and Advent not being just about his first coming but his second coming, too, so Advent is not just about ourselves but about the welfare of others. Christian ministry and mission never take the day off. In the most recent edition of Newsweek magazine, the lead article is about the food divide between the rich and the poor. It details how income divides what people can afford and what they cannot afford. According to the article by religion editor, Lisa Miller, 17% of Americans live in households that are “food insecure.” Such insecurity arises when a family runs out of money they cannot buy food. It is also linked to other economic measures like housing and employment. In America food has become a premier marker of social distinction about who can afford to buy healthy food like fish, lean meats, grains and vegetables and who cannot afford it; and those who cannot buy more processed foods because they are cheaper and taste good. The USDA cites that in the last three years food stamps have risen 58% and women and children, who are on food stamps, tend to be more overweight than who are not. The current debate about buying soft drinks with food stamps brings this whole justice issue into sharper clarity.
The rise of food activists and the advent of the food movement have raised the awareness not only of this economic and social divide among Americans but also how we are to think about how to distribute locally grown and organic food to the least of our brothers and sisters among us. Deeper involvement in conversations with Big Food, public school diets, food pantries like ours in Needham, local community farms and food co-ops, are ways to demonstrate choices and alternatives to sustaining healthy lives and the healthy well being of others. An Advent call to watchfulness is a call for us to shift our consciousness and to see food as a shared resource rather than as a consumer item.
In this season of consumerism, Advent is the herald’s call to us to consider our obligations as followers of Christ to build up the Kingdom of God right now. These obligations are not high and mighty; rather they are about compassion, togetherness, intimacy, and even to the most simple of pleasures to break bread in healthy ways with our neighbors in need. As a community of faith we are formed and informed by Jesus Christ to be healthy people to help make a healthier world.
So as we begin a new church year and are at the advent of the Advent season consider your life. Consider not what the future holds but rather what holds you today. For if we listen to the still small voice within we will hear something far more merry than we hear on the radio, far more joyful than any gift, and far more hopeful than anything we can imagine or pray for. So be watchful and be glad. For salvation is nearer to us than we ever knew.
Now he is telling his followers to be ready. “About that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, only the Father.” The key word is this sentence is “that.” That day means when there will be a reckoning. When things that were up will be down and when those things that were down will be raised up. Even Jesus declares not to know the day when will be the coming of the Son of Man. Only God knows. This warning shot comes over the bows of the commercial ship we call “Christmas.” Jesus is warning his disciples to pay attention to the signs that are all around them that something, someone, is coming. The irony of ironies as we begin a new Christian Year is that the early season of Advent speaks not about Bethlehem and birth but about the return of the Risen Christ, the Alpha and the Omega, in the fullness of his glory. This is definitely not the message from Macy’s. It is the message from the Father.
Placing the Gospel lesson about End Times at the beginning of Advent is not to highlight our lassitude but to live with awareness of the expectations and obligations of God’s reign. This is not to put the fear of God in us or place us on heightened alert like some imminent terrorist attack. Rather, it is to mark a way of living and embracing the unexpected in ways that grounds our interactions and relationships on a daily basis. I am reminded of the story of an innkeeper on Nantucket who as a little girl helped her parents in the summer to greet and befriend the guests of the inn. She remembers a set of elderly sisters from Boston who came every August and never ventured forth but sat out on the porch and read their Bibles. Year after year, the sisters came in August, sat on the porch, and read their Bibles. Finally, when she was much older, the future innkeeper’s curiosity got the best of her; and she asked them why they read their Bibles year in and year out. She never forgot what they said. They said, “We are cramming for finals.”
Advent is about cramming for finals not knowing when the final exam is going to be. A gardener tends to her garden all the time. She must weed, water, and till being patient but ready at all times. A soldier on duty must be alert and every watchful to protect his troops. A lifeguard must be vigilant watching the people in the water but also the shape of the waves, the movement of the current, and the impending rain clouds. Just as a gardener, a soldier, and a lifeguard are watchful and need full attentiveness so you and I need to be attending to our spiritual lives. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus is telling his followers about being attentive to the obligations of being a disciple and living up to the expectations of those who wish to follow him. In the midst of the demands of daily life as people nurture their families, cultivate their careers, and sustain their health, Jesus asks the disciples to be attentive to their relationship with God.
Stephen Covey in well-regarded book on management called Seven Habits of Highly Effective People speaks in one chapter about time management. He proposes that people live in four spheres or quadrants: urgent and important, urgent and not important, not urgent but important, and not urgent and not important. Some of those categories are obvious: a random telephone solicitation is not important and not urgent; a hospital emergency is urgent and important; deciding what tip to leave after lunch is urgent but not important (except to the waiter!); and going to exercise is important or not urgent. Covey believes that the one people need to work on most is the important but not urgent sphere of our lives. It is here where we decide about our health: physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. And it is in this quadrant where Advent lives.
Imagine instead of counting calories you could count your blessings. Instead of fretting about your food intake you could consider your spiritual intake in worship, prayer, contemplation and reading. Instead of worrying about tomorrow you could be nurturing what surrounds you today. The invitation of Advent is to live where you will be most healthy in body, mind and spirit. It is the season to take stock of what is really important in life. It is the time to walk in the light of the Lord. It is the time to make connections with God and with one another. As we are already being commanded to consume this holiday, we are invited to go another way and to share with others God’s gift to us through Jesus Christ. It means that as we take care of ourselves we are to take care of others as well. If we become more attuned to the spiritual and material needs of others, we will not worry about tomorrow for in today there plenty to consider, reflect and do.
Just as we think about the holiday shopping season not being about the Nativity of Jesus, and Advent not being just about his first coming but his second coming, too, so Advent is not just about ourselves but about the welfare of others. Christian ministry and mission never take the day off. In the most recent edition of Newsweek magazine, the lead article is about the food divide between the rich and the poor. It details how income divides what people can afford and what they cannot afford. According to the article by religion editor, Lisa Miller, 17% of Americans live in households that are “food insecure.” Such insecurity arises when a family runs out of money they cannot buy food. It is also linked to other economic measures like housing and employment. In America food has become a premier marker of social distinction about who can afford to buy healthy food like fish, lean meats, grains and vegetables and who cannot afford it; and those who cannot buy more processed foods because they are cheaper and taste good. The USDA cites that in the last three years food stamps have risen 58% and women and children, who are on food stamps, tend to be more overweight than who are not. The current debate about buying soft drinks with food stamps brings this whole justice issue into sharper clarity.
The rise of food activists and the advent of the food movement have raised the awareness not only of this economic and social divide among Americans but also how we are to think about how to distribute locally grown and organic food to the least of our brothers and sisters among us. Deeper involvement in conversations with Big Food, public school diets, food pantries like ours in Needham, local community farms and food co-ops, are ways to demonstrate choices and alternatives to sustaining healthy lives and the healthy well being of others. An Advent call to watchfulness is a call for us to shift our consciousness and to see food as a shared resource rather than as a consumer item.
In this season of consumerism, Advent is the herald’s call to us to consider our obligations as followers of Christ to build up the Kingdom of God right now. These obligations are not high and mighty; rather they are about compassion, togetherness, intimacy, and even to the most simple of pleasures to break bread in healthy ways with our neighbors in need. As a community of faith we are formed and informed by Jesus Christ to be healthy people to help make a healthier world.
So as we begin a new church year and are at the advent of the Advent season consider your life. Consider not what the future holds but rather what holds you today. For if we listen to the still small voice within we will hear something far more merry than we hear on the radio, far more joyful than any gift, and far more hopeful than anything we can imagine or pray for. So be watchful and be glad. For salvation is nearer to us than we ever knew.
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