Pentecost XV- Skip Windsor

                                                              Be Open

                     “He sighed and said to him, ‘Ephphatha’ ” (Mk 7:34)

This morning, as we return to Christ Church and resume our shared ministry in Christ, I would like for us to consider the idea of church as a listening place.  The Gospel reading from Mark today invites us to listen to God’s call and to listen to one another with fidelity and truth, honesty and compassion.

Phillips Brooks, the great 19^th century preacher of Trinity Church, Boston, after fifteen years as rector there, decided to make a personal gift to the parish that he loved so much. Brooks commissioned, and had made, a stained glass window for the clergy vesting room. He gave it the name Ephphatha, which means, “Be open.” The window portrays Jesus healing of “The man who was deaf and had an impediment in his speech.” Of all the many healing stories and of all the mighty acts of Jesus, Brooks chose this event for his window at Trinity. It was to be a window for all succeeding generations of preachers. Of this window, Brooks wrote to a friend, who admired it,

“I am glad you like the little window in the robing room because it is my very own thought entirely and one I took the deepest interest. The makers did their work just as I wanted them to, and the result has already given me great satisfaction and inspiration. I hope that it will help a long line of future preachers at Trinity to speak with free and wise tongues.” (Phillips Brooks, by Alexander V. G. Allen, p. 420)

Ephphatha. This word of Jesus written in the Phillips Brooks Window at Trinity must have symbolized to Phillips something special about the personality, the humanity and the divinity of Jesus. And, it is from today’s gospel reading from Mark that provides an important clue for us to understand the mystery and the majesty of the incarnate God,  Jesus Christ.
 
The region of the Decapolis lies on the southeast coast of Galilee; and as Jesus entered the town of Sidon his reputation as a healer preceded him. People heard about demons being cast down, lepers cleansed, and about a paralyzed man being healed and forgiven with the words, “Take up your mat and walk home.” For many people these miracles of Jesus were sensational events front-page National Inquirer material such as we might see at the Sudbury Farms checkout counter:

 --- “90 year old mother expecting her 23^rd child.”

--- “Kansas couple home again after spending a year in a UFO.”

--- “Carpenter from Nazareth spits, says magic word and heals man born deaf and speechless” (more inside on page 6.)

Jesus may have been front-page material for the people of Sidon but he did not want such notoriety because he knew his healing actions were widely misunderstood. He performed miracles but he was no miracle worker. He did magical things but he was no magician. None of this was to call attention to himself. It was all about God. All of his actions were to proclaim the Good News of God that would evoke in peoples’ tired and lonely lives hope, inspiration and joy.

Jesus was the bearer of a hope beyond the boundaries of their imagination. It was no wonder that he took the deaf and speechless man aside. All prophetic ministries begin in the pastoral. All healing comes from a deep well of compassion. All encounters with the living God begin with a one-on-one relationship.

Imagine then how much care and concern for others filled Jesus. He embodied divine love. The prophets foretold of his coming. The prophet Isaiah prophesied that One would come and would bind up the wounds of many:

“He will come and save you. Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongues of the speechless sing for joy.”

Jesus didn’t seek the power, the glamour nor the lure of the world in order to influence it. Rather, the force unleashed by Jesus to the sightless, the deaf, the speechless, the lame and the marginalized was the healing power of God’s love. It was a love of profound depth, of such unchartered width and so immeasurably great that the thickets of discord and the thorns of affliction would be completely cut down forever.

This was never more intimately and compassionately realized than in today’s gospel lesson. Like so many things, it all begins with a one-on-one relationship.

 Jesus did not let sensationalism stop him from healing. Instead he took the disabled man to a quiet place. In that place, Jesus’ physical actions matched exactly the needs of the man as he put his fingers in the man’s ears. Touching the man with his own saliva, Jesus utters the word, Ephphatha that is “Be open.”

In that moment of encounter transcending time and space, miracle and magic, Jesus says a word of prayer, not as a command but as a sigh. Captured in this intimate moment between Jesus and the man is the revelation of the true identity and reality of Jesus as both fully divine and fully human.

This is the sigh of a loving and protecting Creator who groans with us in our travails and hardships with unwavering love and loyalty knowing and assisting us towards wholeness and holiness. It is the sigh of a Nazarene who lived in this world being raised in a loving family, educated as a pious Jew, grew in wisdom and stature as a rabbi, and inspired a motley group of men and women to become his disciples. Jesus’ sigh reveals not only the man but also God who became flesh and experienced both the joys and tragedies of human life.

Sensing these mountainous burdens among God’s people, Jesus emits the same sighs of frustration, despair, and despondency as they felt. Feelings we share today. Jesus’ sigh is offered on our behalf and on behalf of the world.  It is offered to all people who feel muzzled, imprisoned, silenced, and pronounced as unimportant and insignificant.

You and I are called through our baptisms into a shared ministry with Christ to “hear one another into speech.” It is a ministry in which we extend ourselves to one another – friend, foe and neighbor – with honesty and integrity remaining in community with another despite our differences and persuasions.

Ephphatha. Be open. It is the word of prayer spoken in Jesus’ own idiom, undefiled down through the centuries, calling us as healers in his name to be open as a church to all people. We are not only to be a speaking place but a listening place hearing others into speech, hearing others into wholeness.

The world right now needs more listening places. Places where people can come and begin to learn their own words for themselves, speaking up for themselves, gaining self respect and dignity and beginning the healing and transforming process to holiness and wholeness.

The Church, the people of God, is the listening place where the silent, the speechless, and the maimed come to be opened and to be healed. In our world today there is a blistering sound of audible cries of people who need to be heeded and heard. The infant voices of freedom in Russia and Iran need to be heard. The muffled sounds of the abandoned in Haiti and Bolivia need to be heard. The belches and cries of the hungry in Boston and in the bleached out prairies of the Midwest need to be heard. The voices of lonely immigrants living on the margins of society need to be heard. The silent among us need to be heard.

As long as you and I remember whom we serve and who listens to us with loving care, we will be empowered to listen to others empowering them into speech and into action. As long as we recall Jesus’ word to the deaf and speechless man, Ephphatha, be open, our souls will be set free, the lonely will be befriended and the needy with find comfort, hope and healing.

It is no wonder that Phillips Brooks wanted this Gospel story and this word emblazoned on his window at Trinity Church. Ephphatha. It is a word to be cherished by all preachers. It is a word to be cherished by us all.

And now to God who is able to do more than we ask or think may all honor and glory be given in the Name of Jesus Christ throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.

 

 

 

           

 

 

 

           

Pentecost XIII - Holly Hartman

“May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.” Amen.

As we near the end of the summer, in this last week of August, we also come to the end of Chapter Six in John.

For me, as I suspect for many of you, the end of the summer is a mixed bag. I have been spending a lot of time in Maine this month, where I particularly am aware of the nip in the air, especially in the evenings, and waning daylight hours. Even some of the leaves are starting to turn color! This summer, especially, I want to hold onto each lovely, lazy warm day and resist the change that fall brings- kids moving back to college, leaving a hollow feeling in the house, and also the increase in my own level of activity and responsibility. I’m resisting getting out of my false comfort zone that this month has brought and coping with the ever changing circumstances and challenges of life.

There was a great deal of resistance to change in this Chapter in John, too. Resistance of Jesus’ followers to change their way of thinking in order to believe what he was saying. I can’t blame them. Jesus was saying some pretty controversial things, with his talk of eating flesh and drinking blood, his talk of living forever. Talk that was so outrageous that many of Jesus’ disciples quit on him after that. “This is just too hard; we can’t accept it anymore.” They turned and left.

I think we can all relate to these disciples. In some ways, we are programmed, for survival’s sake, to resist change. In a very biological way, our bodies crave to maintain “homeostasis”- a condition of stability and constancy. Challenges, as the ones that Jesus were presenting, often ignite the body’s fight or flight response. Instead of continuing to stay and “fight”, or grapple with the meaning of the words of Jesus, and the change in thinking that he was demanding, most of his followers threw their hands up and said “enough”.

But twelve of them remained. Twelve of them chose to stay, be uncomfortable, and trust that this Jesus was offering something that they could not turn away from. And when Jesus questioned them, asking “Do YOU, also wish to go away?”, Simon Peter spoke for all twelve. “Lord, to whom can we go?” It was a statement of faith, followed by his assertion that indeed, he and other others- “they had “come to believe” that this man was “the Holy One of God.”

The ones who left had not fully “come to believe”. Maybe they believed halfway....they followed the teachings of Jesus as much as they could....but they just couldn’t take that last leap of faith to believe the Jesus was who he said he was. They resisted change.

How difficult it is to step out of old habits and thinking and “come to believe.” If you are familiar with 12 step programs, you will know that, in fact, there is a whole step devoted to this. It’s Step Two. Before you can overcome whatever addiction or situation is afflicting you, you must “Come to Believe” in that it is only a power greater than yourself who can help you. You must change your way of thinking, and give up your old ideas of self-control and powerfulness. The very expression “come to believe” indicates a process- a movement from one place- the place of non-belief, to another place- that place of knowing with your whole being that something that is true. In the case of the 12 steps, as in the case of the 12 disciples, “coming to believe” is a spiritual journey, one that may involve resistance, wavering, hard questioning, and then finally....acceptance that this “Higher Power”, or something bigger than just our own human selves, the can “restore us”. For the 12, acceptance that Jesus truly is the son of God and that it is through him that they will receive eternal life.

So John, Chapter Six, concludes on a high note. It concludes with assertion in a belief that it truly is Jesus who comes from the Father, who can give us eternal life. And here, “Eternal Life” doesn’t just mean life after death in a place like heaven-it means living a very high quality of spiritual life on earth. That, no matter what our circumstances are, God will provide what we need. As Christians on a spiritual journey, we too are constantly being challenged in our every day lives. Life itself throws us so many curve balls. Just when we think we have something all figured out, or settled- something else comes along to upset the apple cart! Like my false sense of escape from life in Maine, we sometimes hide our heads in the sand when life’s changes become too overwhelming to cope with. And this is all normal human behavior. But in John, Jesus shows us that by coming to believe in him, and through him in God, we are never left alone to deal with the changes and challenges in our lives. We need only to try, over and over, to turn to the source of strength and power who will guide us along our way. I would like to close my reflections this morning with one of my favorite poems, from Irish poet and philosopher John O’Donohue, from his book entiteld “To Bless the Space Between Us.” This poem is called “For a New Beginning.”

For a New Beginning

In out-of-the-way places of the heart,
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming,
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire,
Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,
Noticing how you willed yourself on,
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety
And the gray promises that sameness whispered,
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent,
Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground,
Your eyes young again with energy and dream,
A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not yet clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is at one with your life's desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

Pentecost IX - Lynn Campbell

In the name of the one God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Have you ever read a story, one that you have read many times before, and have a character pop out at you as if that person had never been there before? You wonder how you never noticed the significance of the person’s actions in all the many times you read the same words? Well, that is what happened to me when I read the Gospel for today. A character I barely noticed before jumped off the page and demanded my attention.

“There is a boy here”, Andrew told Jesus, “who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” Imagine this young boy. Thousands of people gathered on the grass along the side of the Sea of Galilee. Thousands of people who are far from home, who have been draw together by this man who brought healing to the sick. They come without food and without money. Seeing the people, Jesus asked Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” Philip, being ever practical, looked around and calculated in his head that not even 6 months wages would be enough to give each person a taste of bread. No, not possible to feed this group. Andrew also looked around, assessed the need in relation to the resources he has found among those gathered and came to the same conclusion. No, not possible to feed this group. The need is too great. Yet we have this young boy, quickly passed over by the disciples, not even named in this story, this young boy offers the little he has brought with him. In the face of huge need he offers what he has. 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish. How have I not noticed this boy before?

He has changed the way I view this miracle story. The number of people in need doesn’t daunt him With a hopeful heart (and maybe a healthy amount of naïveté), he simply offers to the community what he has. And in Jesus’ hands, his small offering, becomes enough to feed more than five thousand people. This simple meal becomes a feast.

It seems to me that the miracle isn’t just that two thousand years ago Jesus multiplied the bread and fish, it is also the actions of this boy. That makes this story also about a miracle that can continue to happen today.

What if he had kept this food to himself? What if he was overwhelmed by the great need around him and didn’t think to offer his gift? What if he kept his food to himself, fearing if he gave it up he would be left with no food for his journey. But he didn’t allow fear or insecurity get in the way, rather he opened the possibility for miracles to happen.

When I’m faced with great need, I know my temptation is to think that my small gift can’t make a difference. I wonder if that ever happens to you? Sometimes I think we are tempted to say that the gifts God has given us aren’t enough. We hold back because we think what we have to offer won’t make a difference, or it isn’t perfect enough yet, or we are scared there won’t be enough left for ourselves. Holding back doesn’t serve anyone. Holding back doesn’t give Jesus the opportunity to work in and through us. We see this morning that amazing and astounding things can happen when we place what we have into the hands of Jesus.

We don’t have to look far to see this truth in our own lives. I was reminded of it this past Thursday when I attended the worship service at the Crossing. The crossing is a church community housed at the Cathedral that truly welcomes everyone. It is filled with people who spend their lives on the margins of society. These women and men, many who thought there was no place for them in church, many who had given up on God, found a community in which they can be fed at the altar and be sent out as agent of God’s love in the world. This all started 7 years ago when the Rev. Stephanie Speller, their lead organizer had an idea of a different way of being church. She gathered some young adults together to imagine what this could look like. They never could have dreamed of the successful ministry that now exists. What if Stephanie or those she gathered looked at the spiritual hunger around them and decided it was just too great? If they had looked into their hands and said, we don’t have enough or let’s wait until we have our plan perfected, hundreds of people would not have been touched by the loved of God and this life-giving and life-changing community would not have been born. By placing what they did have in the hands of Jesus and in service of the community, their gifts multiplied, people were fed, and Christ Jesus was made known.

Or we can think about Circle of Hope, an organization that now serves hundreds of homeless and poor people in Boston. This organization that has helped so many people started with a few donations in the garage of a Christ Church parishioner. Imagine if she or the leaders who followed her looked at the number of people in need and did nothing.

These are just two examples but I bet if we pulled this group together we would have as many examples as there are people in this chapel. We can trust the words written by Paul in his letter to the Ephesians, “now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly more than we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generation, forever and ever.”

The invitation in today’s Gospel reading is to be like the boy who gives what he has in order that all can be fed. No matter how insignificant it might seem to us we can trust that in the hands of Jesus, great miracles can happen, much more than we can ask or imagine. Great abundance is possible.

Amen.

Pentecost VI - Charles Dale

From the Gospel according to Mark: “Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us? And they took offense at him.”

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Do you ever hear a song that you can’t get out of your head? For me, the last time was a few years ago and the song was “One of Us” by Joan Osborne. Do you remember it?

What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us?
Just a stranger on the bus trying to make his way home.

This song is full of questions - questions that, if you think about them seriously, do not have easy answers.

If God had a name, what would it be?
And would you call it to His face if you were faced with Him in all His glory?
What would you ask if you had just one question?

Well, this first question is interesting in a couple of ways. The Bible makes a pretty big deal out of the name of God. In Exodus, chapter 3, we read:

But Moses said to God, "If I come to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' what shall I say to them?" God said to Moses, "I AM WHO I AM." He said further, "Thus you shall say to the Israelites, 'I AM has sent me to you.'" God also said to Moses, "Thus you shall say to the Israelites, 'The LORD, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you': This is my name forever, and this my title for all generations.

In Hebrew, the name of God is written with four letters, יהוה (yodh he waw he). This is referred to as the tetragrammaton, and is pronounced in English as “Yahweh” or “Jehovah”. I know people who never write this out, even in English. They write G-d instead. This is to avoid all possibility of using the name of God in vain. As you may know, my wife is Jewish, and I’ve been to quite a few Jewish services over the course of our 31+ years together. Something that strikes me about many of the Jewish prayers is that they begin with the words, “Baruch atah Adonai elohaynu melech ha'olam...”, which means “Blessed are you O Lord our God, King of the Universe...” Two things about this are worth noting - there’s no mention of Yahweh, even though we translate it as “Lord our God”. The word “Adonai” is literally “Lord” and the rest is understood. And even “Adonai” is not written out. It is abbreviated as יי (yodh yodh). As it has been explained to me, the Jewish faith holds God as the unapproachable, omnipotent, omniscient Creator of Everything, whose name is so holy that humans dare not even speak it.

Compare that, for a moment, with the name that Jesus taught us to use - “Abba”, which is often translated as “Father”. But it’s even more personal than that. If you grow up speaking Hebrew as Jesus did, the first words you learn are most likely “imah” and “abba”, so perhaps we could get a better sense of them as “mommy” and “daddy”, terms of endearment from a young child to his or her loving parents.

Wow. Talk about contrasts. So, which is it? The unutterable, unknowable Immensity? Or the loving Papa? I think it’s both. As Christians, we grow up saying the Lord’s Prayer - “Our Father, who art in Heaven...”, but I think we would also do well to hold on to a bit of “Baruch atah Adonai elohaynu melech ha’olam...”.

I think Joan Osborne gets at this by inviting us to consider how we would address God if (and here it should really be “when”) we come face to face with Him in all His glory. It makes me shudder just to think about it.

And, what would you ask if you had just one question?

One question? Really? I have too many to count. Think for a moment. What would you ask? Why are we here? What happened before the beginning of the universe? Why is there so much suffering in the world? Why do we have to die? What is the meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything? Are we the only intelligent beings in all of Creation? Why is the mass of the Higgs boson 125.3 GeV? But I digress... Philosophy, Science and Religion have all tried to answer these and countless other questions throughout human history. Just one question? I wouldn’t know where to begin. The good news, I suppose, is that I am certain that when we come face to face with God, we will have all the answers we could ever hope for. Perhaps this earthly life is, in part, our opportunity to learn the questions.

If God had a face what would it look like?
And would you want to see if seeing meant that you would have to believe
in things like heaven and in Jesus and the saints and all the prophets?

Again, we read in Exodus, chapter 33:

Moses said, "I pray thee, show me thy glory." And [God] said, "I will make all my goodness pass before you, and will proclaim before you my name 'The LORD'… But," he said, "you cannot see my face; for man shall not see me and live." And the LORD said, "Behold, there is a place by me where you shall stand upon the rock; and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by; then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen."

I’m pretty sure that Joan wasn’t reading Exodus when she wrote this song, or else it would have read, “And would you want to see if seeing meant that you would die?” Yikes! I’m guessing her song would not have been nearly as popular...

But when God entered the world, everything changed. God showed us His face – the face of Mary’s son, the face of a carpenter, the face of a slob like one of us. And what of the people who saw Jesus face to face? In a way, they did die. Their old lives were ended and they were reborn! Jesus was not someone you could go visit once a week for a nice chat. He said, “Follow me”, and they dropped everything – EVERYTHING – and followed him.

The people in today’s Gospel reading who took offense weren’t stupid and they weren’t evil. They simply couldn’t fathom how this guy could possibly be the King of the Universe. In fairness, it wasn’t until after the Resurrection that most of Jesus’ closest friends and followers came to fully realize who and what He was. God – the creator and ruler of all time and space – became a human being – one of us. “What if God was one of us?” God is one of us! Alleluia!

So come to the table! Come with love for Abba, the Father. Come with awe for Adonai, the Lord and King of all creation. Come with thanksgiving for Jesus, who became one of us so that we all might be saved. Meet Him face to face in all His glory and be changed forever.

Amen.

Pentecost IV - Lynn Campbell

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

Some of my favorite memories are times I spent on the water. As I kid I spent two weeks every summer at an overnight camp and during those two weeks went sailing every day. It was heaven for me. I loved everything about sailing- being surrounded by water, controlling the direction and speed of the boat, looking out to the horizon and back to the coast. It felt so freeing. I remember sitting in my cabin with a list of the points of sail until I could list each one from close hauled to very broad reach. I wanted to ensure I could get the sail in just the right direction to take advantage of the wind.

And it was just over a year ago that I had the opportunity to travel on a boat on the Sea of Galilee. The same sense of peace and freedom I felt as a child came back to me. I remember looking out on the mountains that surround the Sea, the vibrant colors of the landscape, the calm water, the blue sky and the bright sun. As we sat on the boat, in the middle of the Sea of Galilee, our leader read the Gospel reading we heard proclaimed this morning. We sat on the boat in silence taking in the scripture story, the surroundings, and the message Jesus had for us that day. There are few times in my life I’ve felt such peace as on the Sea of Galilee at that moment. I felt Jesus’ presence in the boat, by my side. Although there is a part of me that wishes a storm came that afternoon, if nothing else it would make for good sermon material, the winds remained calm and the water smooth.

I’m told that the weather on the Sea of Galilee can change in an instant. A storm can brew with little warning and the waters can quickly change from smooth to stormy. One such storm came upon the disciples in today’s Gospel reading and they feared for their lives. Even these veteran fishermen panicked as the boat began to take on water. In my imagination I can see them rushing around, trying to figure out how to keep the boat afloat, and then looking over to see Jesus comfortably asleep on a cushion. “Teacher”, they call out, “do you not care that we are perishing?” Jesus wakes up to their call for help, he rebukes the wind and tells the sea, “Peace! Be Still!

I’m sure we can all think of times in our lives in which storms have surfaced. Some are expected and some surprise us. Maybe it is the sickness of a family member or moving out of our homes, perhaps it is child graduating and going on to college or the loss of a job. Our lives are filled with storms, some large and some small. Sometimes it feels like the wind and waves threaten to take us over and other times it is simply noticing the stronger winds and changing sky. Storms are a natural part of our lives. So, if shifts in the weather or inevitable, what do we do when we are in the midst of a sea change? What do we do when we feel fear of the unknown begin to creep in? Today’s Gospel tells us to put our eyes on and our faith in Jesus. Jesus is the calm center in the midst of anxiety. He is present to the fear but is not drawn into it. He does not join the disciples in their panic. He does not quickly try to bail the water out of the ship or become frozen with fear. Instead he speaks the words: “Peace. Be still.”

Just as shifts in the winds occur in our individual lives, they are bound to happen in our communal life. As we found out this week, our congregation will be experiencing a change in the wind. Skip, our Rector of nearly 10 years, announced that he will be retiring as of January 6^th. He is following the call of the Spirit to spent more time with Kathy, his children and his grandchildren. Skip has been such an amazing gift to this community as a whole and to each of us as individuals. It is natural that we will feel a range of emotions now and in the months to come. But Jesus message to his disciples 2000 years ago is just as relevant for us know. Peace. Be still. Have faith.

There will be plenty of time over the next 6 months to say good–bye. There will be time to share with Skip and with Kathy our gratitude for their time at Christ Church, for all they have done and for who they are to us. But we do this while keeping our eyes focused on Jesus who is the true source of peace, the source of love, the source of our very lives. In the midst of our anxiety and our sadness, in the midst of the changes and chances of this life, we cling to Jesus and remember that he is doing more for us than we can ask or imagine.

As a church we are in a very good place. We have a congregation that is growing and is filled with a wonderful energy. We have a very capable vestry that is dedicated to the church and to our mission. And we have a staff that is ready and able to meet the challenges and the opportunities that are ahead of us. The winds have changed but we will adjust our sail and we will continue to do the work that has been entrusted to us. As Skip wrote in his letter to the congregation, “We cannot desist from the momentum we have created together…” And that is exactly right. There are people who are hurting, there are people in need of God’s message of reconciling love, there are people who go without the basic necessities of life while others of us have more than we need. God’s mission of peace and justice, of love and freedom continues and the need for us to come together in this mission is great.

We can weather the storms in our personal lives and the changes in our communal life because the risen Christ is in the boat with us. We can look to him, cling to him, when we are faced with uncertainties. We can put our faith and trust in him. Jesus didn’t promise us that there wouldn’t be storms, but he did promise to be with us. Always. Even until the end of time. And that hope, that promise, is at the very heart of our Christian faith and life.

Amen.

Pentecost - Lynn Campbell

Acts 2:1-21, John 15:26-27; 16:4b-15

May God’s Word be spoken and God’s Word be Heard. Amen.
This morning we gather together to celebrate Pentecost, one of the major feasts days of the church. Although it doesn’t come with the secular trimmings of Easter and Christmas, it is no less important. Pentecost comes 50 days after Easter and 10 days after we celebrate the Ascension of Jesus, the Risen Christ ascending to his Father in Heaven. But as we heard in this morning’s Gospel reading, as Jesus prepares his disciples for his departure from this world, he promises that he will send them the Advocate, the Spirit of truth, to walk with them and to guide them. His followers will not be left alone. This is a promise that God fulfills at Pentecost, giving birth to the church.

“When the day of Pentecost had come, the disciples were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.” The same Spirit that breathed life into all of creation, the same Spirit that descended upon Jesus at his baptism, was now being shared with ALL people. And, that same Spirit IS blowing in our church today. I know this because I witness the Spirit’s movement so often in our life together.

At Pentecost, the Spirit gave the disciples the ability to speak of the powerful deeds of God in a way that allowed for the crowds, many of who were from a different land and spoke a different language, to understand. Stories of the power of God were spoken AND heard. The Good News of God in Christ was shared with all people regardless of language, native land, age, sex or social status.

Those of us who have been baptized into the one Body of Christ have been given the gift of the Spirit. This gift isn’t just for us to enjoy. The spirit propels us forward, compels us to be bearers of the Good News, to share the story of Jesus Christ that has been handed down to us AND to share the ways in which the Spirit continues to breathe new life in us and in the world.

One of the great joys of being a priest in this community is the privilege of hearing the stories of how the Spirit IS working in your lives. And regularly I witness the Spirit sweeping in and through this congregation. It’s an amazing thing. Unfortunately we don’t have many opportunities to share these stories with one another and we don’t always have the confidence to share them with friends, classmates, neighbors or co-workers. But I know from experience that these stories are too important not to share.

Its one thing to invite someone to Christ Church, but it is completely different when you share with someone how you see the Spirit working at Christ Church and invite that person to be a part of it. You can encourage someone to go with you to Shelter Cooking, but how much more powerful is it to share how you have witnessed the Spirit in your conversation with a homeless woman.

The Spirit is pulsing through this community if we have eyes to see it. Let me share with you one example from just last Sunday. At the 10am service we called forward 23 youth and adults to recognize their Confirmation and Reception into the Episcopal Church. 23 of our members made the conscious decision to say yes to living out the baptismal covenant in their lives. And then we called forward the more than 15 church school teachers who have dedicated so much of their free time to sharing the love of God and the story of our faith with our children. The Spirit went with us from the church to the back porch when we gathered for a parish cookout. Young and old, newcomers and faithful members, woman and men all came together. I saw people who grew up in this church chatting with families who have only been here for a few weeks. I saw kids running around playing whiles others sat watching them with big smiles on their faces.

This is a community in which the Spirit IS moving. And just as it was for the first followers of Jesus, it is important for us to hear these stories from one another and to have the opportunity to voice them ourselves. So we are going to try something different this morning. In a moment I’m going to invite you to find a partner and share with that person a way in which you see the Spirit alive in this Community. It might be something you saw or heard, a time you volunteered with the church, or a piece of music you heard. Each person will share his or her experience for 2 minutes. After two minutes we’ll take a deep breath and it will be time for the second person to share. I know this is not the norm for a sermon but I encourage you to give it a try! So, find your partner and get started.

(share stories with one another)

I hope you feel as blessed by the stories you heard and shared as I am every time I hear them from you. I invite you during this season of Pentecost to practice being curious about how the spirit is moving in your life and in the life of this community. Ask people how they experience the Spirit and be willing to share your stories with your neighbors and friends. The same Spirit that has been present since the beginning of creation is still being poured out onto us. And that is good news worth sharing. Amen.

Easter VII - Skip Windsor

The Ministry of the Just

Early in my ordained ministry, I served churches as an interim priest in Weston, Milton and Newton. As many of you may know an interim priest serves a congregation during rector vacancies for a period of one to two years. An interim does not have the authority of a rector but he or she does lead worship, make pastoral calls and teaches adults and Sunday school.

I remember a visitor coming up to me in Weston after a service and asking me if I was the rector; and I replied, “No. I am just the interim priest.” Later that afternoon I reflected upon my answer to the visitor’s question about being just an interim. What was I really saying and what was I really saying about my vocation being just an interim? It was as if I thought being an interim had less value than a rector; or that somehow I was not as important as a rector.

How often have you heard someone say: “I am just a volunteer here;” Or,  “I am just working in the office as a temp;” Or I am just an enlisted man in the Army. In church circles, the same question could be asked: “Are you clergy?” “No, I am not a priest. I am just a lay person.” I wonder what Justus would say to people in our epistle reading today from Acts after he lost the election to Matthias to take Judas’ place among the apostles: “Hey Justus aren’t you one of the twelve apostles?” What would Justus say? “No I am just a disciple?”

This morning I would like to speak to you about the ministry of the just. I would like to reflect with you about how there is no need to qualify who we are and what we do. For in the eyes of God all of us are held with equal value and seen as worthy of respect and dignity. If we look at today’s text from Acts, we can wonder what Justus might have felt like after losing the election to Matthias. And maybe we can learn something from Justus about being more than just “just.”

After the death self-imposed death of Judas and before the coming of the promised Holy Spirit, Peter, as the appointed leader of the 120 disciples believed it was necessary to complete the circle of apostles back to twelve. This was to re-instate Jesus’ will that the number of apostles matched the same of number of the tribes of Israel. The qualifications to be an apostle was that candidates must have known personally Jesus and been with him during his public ministry from the time of his baptism to his death in Jerusalem.

The two chosen candidates were Justus and Matthias. Lots were cast in the ancient tradition of the Jewish Temple when making personnel decisions; and Matthias won and was added to the twelve. No further in scripture is ever heard about Justus; but no further word is heard about Matthias either. Scripture is silent about them. Yet, I would like to believe that losing an election did not stop Justus from continuing to serve God.

Like Justus there continues to be faithful Christians who serve with faith and devotion to God and to their church. Two women who were a lot like Justus were Rosie Burke and Pearl Blackman two African-American women who started the Cathedral Monday lunch program over 40 years ago. Were Rosie and Pearl just volunteers? Were they just lay people? Following in the spirit of Justus, the early faithful disciple of Jesus, they were continuing and sustaining the ministry of the just.

Just people are helping others everyday. You and I do not have to look far to see people helping people whether it is driving a person to a doctor’s appointment, tutoring a student in history, walking with an Alzheimer’s patient, raising a foster child, bringing communion to a shut-in, or taking a prayer shawl and a meal to someone recently released from the hospital.

As I look out at you, I know the quiet ministries you do without fanfare or notice. Not all can do such direct ministries every day and all the time but all of us can support each other through prayer and fellowship. All of us are connected through the life giving power of the Holy Spirit.

This is the time for graduations. It is also the season of inaugurations. Confirmation is more than a graduation; it is also an inauguration into the mature life of faith. Through instruction and the laying on of hands all 23 of our youth and adults begin a new stage in the ministries. You are more than just volunteers and more than just numbers in a parochial report. You are given gifts and talents through the Holy Spirit.

 Just as Jesus called James and John from their fishing boats, just as the Almighty called the Israelites out of Egypt, just as God called Amos from the orchards, so God calls you, and each of us, to do the work of ministry given to us by God through Christ.

When the circle of twelve apostles was diminished by death to one, the remaining apostle, John, wrote letters to his beloved friends reminding them that God gives us a Son; and more than this, through the Son, God gives us a life-a just life to live fully and well. John sums it up well in his First Letter that we just heard this morning: “God gave us eternal life; and this life is his Son. Who ever has the Son has life.”

I will conclude my sermon with the story of a wealthy father and his son who loved to collect rare works of art. Often they would sit together admiring the beauty of their collection.

When the war in Viet Nam broke out the son went to war and was killed saving another Marine. A month later, a young Marine carrying a large package under his arm came to see the bereaved father. The Marine told the father how his son saved him and several other men the day he died. He shared with the father how the son talked about their love for another and their mutual love of art.

The Marine held out the package and said this was for the father. Opening the package, he saw a portrait of his son painted by the young Marine. He stared in admiration at how well he had captured the likeness of his deceased son. The father thanked the Marine and offered to pay him for it. The Marine refused saying that what his son did for him could never be repaid and that the portrait was a gift.

The father hung the portrait of his son over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home, the father always showed the son’s portrait before showing them any of the other great works of art he had collected. When the Father died, there was a great auction for his paintings. Bidders came far and wide hoping to have the opportunity to purchase one of the great paintings for their own collection. On the platform among the paintings by Picasso and Raphael sat the painting of the son.

The auctioneer started the auction with the painting of the son. No one made a bid on the painting of the son. The bidders said it was just a painting by some unknown artist. The auctioneer asked for $100, then $50, and then $15. The bidders protested to move on to the “better” paintings. The auctioneer continued asking,  “Who will take the son?”  Finally, a humble gardener offered $10 since that was all he had.

“Going once. Going twice. Sold to the man for $10.” Then the auctioneer suddenly announced the auction was over. He said there was a stipulation in the father’s will that whoever takes the son gets everything.

Whoever takes the Son gets everything.  God gives us eternal life and this life is his Son. Whoever has the Son has life.