Lent II - Skip Windsor

Ps 121; John 3:1-17
Born Again

This morning I would like to reflect with you on the Gospel lesson from John. I would like for us to consider what it means to be “born again” and how it has implications for our understanding of Christian freedom and human responsibility.

If you were to ask me who was one of the most unforgettable people I have ever met, I would have to say it was a wandering Scotsman who I met as a boy while living in London in the late fifties.

I met the Scot one Saturday afternoon with my friends. We were sitting on a bench when an older gentleman wearing a kilt and a “tam o’ shanter” cap approached us and asked if he could sit down. He told us he was traveling all through the British Isles telling everyone how Jesus Christ had changed his life.

He showed us his Bible where his name was inscribed on it along with some dates underneath it. The Scotsman explained that the first two dates were the date of his birth and the date of his death. Underneath these dates was the same year as his purported death with just a hyphen after it. He said the third and final date was the date when he was born again. Puzzled, we asked him what this second birthday meant; and he replied that he had been “born again” in the Spirit.

I remember thinking at the time “what happened to this man that caused him to change his whole life and begin to wander the globe telling anyone, including a bunch of eleven-year old boys like us, that Jesus saved him?” The longer and lingering question for me was, “How can this be?” From time to time when I read this gospel lesson I remember “The Wandering Scotsman” and his being born again and my question of how can this be? It is the same question that Nicodemus asks of Jesus.

This encounter between Jesus and Nicodemus, Martin Luther, the Protestant reformer, calls “The Gospel in Miniature.” It seems to summarize the Gospel of Jesus for Luther because of what Jesus tells Nicodemus about the mysterious movement of the Spirit. Jesus’ words to Nicodemus reveal the truth of faith about how we experience the Triune God if we are open, obedient, and prepared to receive God’s grace and power.

In John’s Gospel we know that Nicodemus is of the Jewish ruling class. He is a member of the seventy man Jewish tribunal called the Sanhedrin, the Supreme Court of his people. Next to Roman rule, the Sanhedrin was the most powerful governing body in Judea.

This influential ruler comes to the popular rabbi by night not to question Jesus about the desirability to change but whether there is even a possibility for such a man to change. Nicodemus is faced with the perennial existential problem of one who wants to change but who has no power to change himself. Jesus tells him, “Truly, truly, I say to you unless one is born anew, they will not see the Kingdom of God.”

The expression “born again” is not new to us. We hear in certain Christian groups that we must be born again in order to enter the Kingdom of God. I am reminded of the story Bishop Barbara Harris tells of being accosted in an elevator by fundamentalist, charismatic, Christian who asked her if she was born again. Bishop Barbara replied no she wasn’t born again because the first time was hard enough! Yet, behind the grilling and questioning by some of whether we are “born again” to their liking, there is an important gospel truth worth reflection. According to the evangelist, John, who was an eyewitness to this encounter, Jesus is speaking about personal transformation whether it is sudden or gradual.

Being born again, means a person undergoes a powerful spiritual conversion that alters, changes, and transforms him or her to such an extent that they believe they are a new person. Such an experience happened to St. Paul on the road to Damascus and to St. Augustine in the garden. The feeling of conversion is described as a dying and a birthing at the same time. Jesus says to Nicodemus this spiritual transformation is not by human will but by the will of God through the Spirit.

I believe this is what happened to the Scotsman. The Spirit changed him. I am sure each of us knows someone who experienced such religious conversion. But what about the rest of us? Are you and I missing out on something big or does being born again simply imply less about us and be more about the nature and grandeur of God. Should not our focus be away from our own self-diminution and more about how the greatness of the Holy Spirit works in our lives? Jesus’ reply to Nicodemus holds the answer and why Luther believes it to be the Gospel in miniature.

Night covers Nicodemus. Not only is he spiritually blind; but also he is afraid to be seen. The encounter is a perplexing one with back and forth questions and answers. Then Jesus delivers the punch line: “Truly, truly, I say to you, we speak what we know, and bear witness to what we have seen; but you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you heavenly things?”

We know little about Nicodemus after his conversation with Jesus. The evangelist, John, tells us little more about him; except, one more time when he comes with Joseph of Arimithea to claim the crucified body of Jesus. What conversion happened to him that brought him from darkness into the light? Like the journey of any soul, intimacy with God, is as mysterious as it is personal. The Scotsman never told us boys of his conversion experience. The only thing he wanted to share was his transformed life in Jesus Christ.

Another Scotsman, theologian William Barclay, likes to tell the story of a workman who had been a drunken reprobate and was later converted. Barclay writes that the Scotsman’s working colleagues did their best because of his conversion to make him feel like a fool. “Surely,” they said to him, “You can’t believe in miracles and things like that. Surely for instance, you don’t believe that Jesus changed water into wine?” “I don’t know,” the man answered,” “whether he turned water into wine but I do know that in my own home he turned beer into groceries.”

I remember once listening to a woman who is in religious orders. She told me that she was asked about a friend what it the one attribute that lies above all others in the heart of Jesus. I thought to myself maybe it is compassion or loyalty or courage. She said what lies in the heart of Jesus is freedom. Freedom.

The more I have pondered the sister’s answer about freedom the more I believe Jesus is calling us to freedom this Lent. If we believe that the world is in God and not the other way around (of God in the world) then everything is susceptible to the power of the Spirit: life and death, sin and forgiveness, doubt and faith. All is in God. In other words, God is with us, in us and around us. What Jesus told Nicodemus is ‘there is more to God’s world than Rome, the Sanhedrin, Jerusalem or even himself.’ Once, Nicodemus became open to the Spirit, God guided him and gave him true freedom; and the gift of this lesson is that the Nicodemus’ promise is our promise, too.

For many years, I actually thought the wandering Scotsman was slightly crazed; but, as I have grown older, I think of him more and more because I believe he is one of the freest men I have ever met. He was a ‘born again Nicodemus.’ Although, many of us may not claim to be born again like the wandering Scot, I think conversion takes place progressively in God’s good time and not our own. Our sole response to God’s call is to be open. By lifting eyes up to God and knowing God is the keeper of our lives, we find new life and are born again. Therein lies our true freedom. Amen.

Ash Wednesday - Skip Windsor

“The Sent Ones”

Ash Wednesday is more about subtraction than about addition.

The Imposition of ashes reminds us that what remains when everything else in our lives is taken away is our mortal bodies. And Ash Wednesday reminds us of our mortality.

In the burial service at the Committal, it begins with the words, “earth to earth, dust to dust…” What you and I think is permanent is really provisional and impermanent. In the little known and little used liturgy in the prayer book, The Rite of Reconciliation, a portion of the confession reads, “We are formed of dust in the image and likeness of God, and redeemed by God through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.”

The epistle lesson today from the Second Letter of Paul to the Corinthians begins with the words, “Be reconciled with God.” These words, I believe, ought to be our watchwords for us this Lent. We should be about the enterprise of reconciliation.

This work of reconciliation requires the stripping away of the false self, the petty insecurities that haunt us everyday. It means being open and vulnerable to God’s mercy and forgiveness. To be reconciled with God is to be redeemed, restored, and renewed in the likeness of Christ. In Christ, we are to be reconcilers with God. To be reconciled with and in God is to become, as the apostle Paul writes, “friends of God.”

Reconciliation is something we do – something that shapes and forms us through God’s grace and mercy. In the process of being reconciled in God through Christ’s example, you and I become “a new creation.”

The way to journey this Lent is through reconciliation. The cross of ashes on our foreheads reminds us that all things are possible through God in Christ. Through Christ, we become a new creation to be ambassadors and witnesses of God’s reconciling power and love with others. As reconcilers, we do not sit still, but go forth as representatives of Christ into the world.

As Paul writes, as ambassadors of God’s reconciling love and mercy, we are “the sent ones.”

The truth of these words became most clear to me while I was in Haiti last week. We baptized a one-year old girl named Lovemica. She was born in Leogane after last year’s earthquake and was not expected to live. But she did. This year we baptized Lovemica; and the words in baptism took on new meaning as we consider being made “a new creation” in Christ as the sign of the cross was made on her forehead, “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever.”

Marked and sealed. Being Christ’s own forever. As marked and sealed in Christ in baptism, we are not only one in Christ, and together, part of Christ’s body in Haiti, in Needham, in the world, but are to be the sent ones to be instruments of God’s reconciling power in the world.

This Lent, consider what “subtraction” is happening in your life and how it adds to your spiritual life as a reconciler, a friend of God, in the world. Paul says that as new creations in God, we are the sent ones to do God’s holy will. How will God be using you this Lent? Now is the acceptable time. Now is the day of reconciliation. Now is the day to become a new creation in God in Christ. Amen.

The Last Sunday After Epiphany - Myra Anderson

Take my lips and speak through them. Take our minds and think with them. Take our hearts and set them on fire. Amen.

“This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased…”

We end the season of Epiphany where we began it back at Jesus’ baptism. All the same elements: big cloud, booming voice; all the same words: my Son, beloved, well pleased. It’s like bookends to the miracles, stories and revelations that happened in between these two episodes.

But this time, you’ll notice, there’s more. God follows up this time with a command: “Listen to him!”

Listen to him.

In today’s Gospel passage, Matthew takes us up the mountain with Jesus, Peter, James and John. Jesus is transfigured into this dazzling epiphanic vision. Also making a brief but critical appearance are Moses and Elijah, the lawgiver and the prophet from the Old Testament. Moses and Elijah have been the main players in the Jewish religion up to this point. They appear with Jesus, and Peter is basically convinced, and who can blame him, that this is the “Son of Man coming into his kingdom.” Jesus had told the disciples about this, and here it was. Peter wants to preserve it forever.

Enter the bright cloud and booming voice, and the big pronouncement: “This is my Son, the Beloved.” This is the Messiah, this is me, God, in human form, just like was foretold.

And then the Voice includes a kind of passing of the torch: “Listen to him.”

Actually, given what happens next in the narrative, the emphasis was probably more like this: listen to HIM. When Peter, James and John stop trembling in fear and finally look up, there is no one standing there but Jesus. Moses and Elijah are gone. We’re left with one authority, and this one comes directly from God. Jesus is the way now, listen to HIM.

I would be dishonest if I did not confess to you today that I have struggled with this Gospel and with this sermon. I am looking forward to the rest of you entering into the wilderness journey next week, because I’ve been here for a while.

My first reaction to this narrative was, “Really? Did this really happen? And does it matter?”

All of the theological commentary I came across is emphatic: this happened, and it is critical to the Christian faith. It is in all three synoptic Gospels. The transfiguration establishes the divinity of Jesus, establishes his authority, and points the way to his death and resurrection: it ends with Jesus saying (in his usual style), “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”

But there’s a rational side of me that can’t help but view this with a bit of skepticism. Peter was obviously dealing with this same skepticism in his letter to early followers that we read from today. He is adamant that he and others were there to see Jesus in all his glory on that mountain and to hear the affirming words from the bright cloud. He says to them, “We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty.”

It was also obvious in my research that this was one of the stories, along with the Virgin Birth, the miracles and the Resurrection, that provides the most fodder for atheists and skeptics – Christianity’s detractors. It is the kind of fantastic supernatural tale that makes non-believers roll their eyes, or even sympathetic people dismiss as mere theological metaphor. That’s a very comfortable take on it for many of us. Yet Peter wants us to believe him that this really happened.

So where do we sympathetic skeptics go from here? What do we need to believe, and does it matter? I fear it matters immensely. As C.S. Lewis wrote, “Christianity, if false, is of no importance, and if true, of infinite importance. The only thing it cannot be is moderately important.”

And Peter warns us, “You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts

Those words: “be attentive to this”. In other words, “listen.”

As we enter into the Lenten season, we should be praying for the day to dawn and the morning star to rise in our hearts as Peter promises it will. And I think what today’s readings are telling us is that to have a prayer of that happening, we must acknowledge, as Peter did, that Jesus is who he says he is, who God told us he is. We must choose to believe. At the beginning of the Gospel reading today, we are told that the events on the mountain took place six days AFTER Peter acknowledged Jesus as Christ. The revelations on that mountain top were not news, you see, they were a confirmation of what the disciples already believed or thought they believed, and of course, so much more. But they started with that acknowledgement that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of God. Belief, or faith, first – revelation followed.

I will tell you what I believe this day. I believe with all my heart that the grace of God and the peace that we all seek is there for us. I have witnessed it in the lives of many people, many of you, and in the good works and faithful service of the people in this congregation and others. We just have to be open to receiving it. We have to believe it is there for us.

We have to be attentive. We have to listen. As we enter our Lenten wilderness journey together this week, may we heed the first imperative the newly transfigured Christ gives to his disciples on the mountain:
Get up and do not be afraid.

May we all be eyewitnesses to his glory.

Epiphany VIII - Rev. Dr. Gale Davis Morris

Isaiah 49:8-16a; Psalm 131; I Corinthians 4:1-5; Matthew 6:24-34

The good news found in today’s gospel lesson can be summed up by a quote from Augustine of Hippo (November 13, 354 – August 28, 430) one of the spiritual leaders of the early Christian church. He said “if you think you understand it, its not from God!”

The good news about this passage from Matthew is that it is not easy to understand and actually raises more questions than it provides answers! The bad news—or maybe better described as “the Hard News” is that, like all profound truths that Jesus taught, living into this gospel observation that we “cannot have two masters..One cannot serve God and wealth” is one of the hardest lessons that Jesus repeated in many ways over and over again. The fact that it is such a hard thing to think about makes me pretty sure that Augustine was right—this is one of the things that comes from God and if we are to be faithful, we had best wrestle with it in our lives; and our lives should reflect our love of God more than our love of wealth.

Questions immediately come to mind when I hear this lesson---does this really mean –when we do not worry about what we are to eat or how we are to dress and trust that God will provide for us as God does for the birds adorned with glorious feathers and the lilies and wild flowers of the fields that God will provide for us so gloriously also? Is there some magic formula of faith that gets us designer clothing?—or even clothing at all? gets us shelter? gets our shelter heated and our stomachs full of nutritious food? No! Of course not. Alas..

Faith is not magic and neither is God. Loving God more than money does not give us our heart’s desire—but what happens when we find ourselves loving God more than wealth, our deepest desire is changed.

Loving god more than wealth does not mean we will win the lottery and all things of financial concern will vanish! It does nt mean that our job will be perfect and neither will our marriages of children! (though of course our grandchildren will likely remain perfect!) No, loving god more than wealth still requires us humans to work hard..at our jobs at our relationship ships at the art of living—Loving God we must care not only for ourselves and our families but to work just as hard to make sure that others—less blessed, less fortunate, less lucky than we are given -----from the sweat of our brow—as a sign of our love for God—they must be given shelter and food and safety and ..Whatever else we can provide. And if we truly love god more than wealth—doing so will becomes our desire.

There is a not-so-subtle nuance in this tension between loving god and loving wealth—and the nuance has to do with how we answer the question: “where is our priority?..Wealth or God?” What do we truly desire? I think perhaps that if Jesus would come among us today he would admonish the ones of us who use all their energy and resources and education and time and focus to make money, one who enjoy the successes and privileges of success and wealth. —Even, if they like the Pharisees, attend church each Sunday, pray regularly, give generously to the poor as evidence that they do indeed love god. I think perhaps that Jesus would see that their priority is not in loving God but in the passion they have for succeeding and having the material proof of that success…

or maybe not.

I think—and I could be wrong because I do not know the exact mind of God, (like everyone else I can only assess God’s mind by heeding the clues I have of god from my prayers and what I have learned from scripture.) So based mainly upon my understanding of scripture, this passage and the others like it—I believe that Jesus would ask us to consider the focus of our lives. I believe that Jesus would ask us to firmly establish our priorities and desires in ways that diminish the self centeredness of our lives and our own sense of entitlement. I think Jesus is asking us to set serving others as our priority and as a measure of our devotion to God.

It is hard to do—I really do think it is very hard to do—and so like Augustine, I think this hard ask is truly from God.

Were Jesus to sit with us this morning I can imagine that Jesus would instruct us about what loving God looks like as Jesus did with his entire life—and it seems to me he might tell us that we would be wise to prioritize how we spend our time, our money, our education, our experiences, where we invest in relationships and networks and how we use all those resources. I believe Jesus is admonishing us as he was admonishing those with him that day on the mount, to consider what we love, what we are passionate about. Is it wealth, the making of it, the making more of it? or is our love God whom we serve by serving each other, the poor, the hungry—even, a the Prayer Book says, this fragile earth our island home?

In fact I think that is the very HARD reality of this lesson—perfectly good people can be seduced by wealth very easily. It is much more difficult to be totally focused on God and serving God than it is to be focused on the making and stock piling of wealth.

Most of us are not very good at either one! Most people—even in our relatively wealthy country and in this fairly wealthy community can always imagine having more wealth. Or can imagine using one’s wealth more wisely or working harder to figure out how to gain more. And, I would observe that most people do not expend the energy loving God that they spend worrying about wealth or how the increase of wealth might happen to them or for them or what they can do to make it happen—especially in this economy. Jesus saw that imbalance between thoughts of wealth and thoughts of God in the first century Palestine community—and I believe he would see it in us today. I think that is why he confronted the people with this little conversation about setting priorities between wealth and loving God.

Jesus saw as we see that wealth and love of God are essential to each human being—for it doesn’t matter how much one loves god if one doesn’t take care to earn enough wealth to care for one’s family. Likewise, if one has all the wealth in the world and relishes each dime spent and each overindulgence seems a righteous entitlement for having earned the money—it is very difficult for one’s soul to then know god.

A balance must be struck—to work hard and earn money is a good thing—as long as that working hard is not for the sole purpose of getting more and more, —not the priority of one’s life—not the obsession of one’s life. Loving God must be the priority of one’s life. The how we love our work and how we love our money is often a measure of how we love God. That is what makes this such a hard lesson to hear…to really know our own heart and our own priority is not easy—for most human beings are very adept at fooling themselves in the hope they are fooling the world—and even God.

To really set one’s priorities, to know how to balance our love of wealth and our love of God takes rigorous, intentional, self reflection and constant vigilance—and “watch dog like” self monitoring to measure one’s own heart and intention. I can imagine that Jesus might –after telling us that we cannot have two masters—suggest we follow him into the desert and do that self examination. I can imagine that he would encourage our passion for each other and for God by encouraging us to serve others. I can imagine that he would say –“this is a hard lesson. It is from god, but it is not impossible because Jesus will walk with us as we try to temper our passion for wealth and flame our passion for God. Amen.

Epiphany VII - Skip Windsor

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

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.”

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.