Sermon - Proper 9 - July 9, 2017

Proper 9, Year A

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

July 9, 2017

The Rev’d Charles Everson

St. Luke’s Episcopal Church

Just two weeks ago, our gospel lesson from Matthew included some difficult sayings from Jesus like “I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.”  And “I have come to set a man against his father, and daughter against her mother.”  This week, we hear Jesus say, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”   Sounds like two different people talking, but both are in fact statements that Jesus made as part of the same discourse.  How can that be?

         I propose to you that in both of these passages, Jesus is inviting us to a life of discipleship.  Two weeks ago, on Deacon Katie’s first Sunday here, I was helping out at my home parish, and so you unfortunately missed out on my riveting sermon on “discipleship in light of obedience.”  I mean, a sermon on obedience. Sounds exciting, right? Here’s the one minute summary of that sermon: discipleship means “to learn”, and thus disciples of Jesus are called to learn from Jesus how to live.  As part of discipleship, we are called to be obedient to our Lord, but not in the way we typically think of obedience – you know, one person submits to another person because they have power over them and are afraid of them and are thus obedient.  Rather, Christian obedience is to listen intently, and to respond, not only to those who are supposed to have authority over us, but also to the voices of our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.  The call to discipleship is a call to radical obedience – a call to listen to the voice of God, wherever it may be found, and to respond.  Unhesitating obedience to Christ often costs us dearly and can cause division in our families, in our friendships, and even in our parish.

The reason I’m giving you the short version of that sermon is because the final verses we heard today have to be understood in context.  In order to understand this sweet promise to receive “rest”, we have to start from the understanding that discipleship is hard work and can ultimately lead to division and strife that we don’t expect.

         When Jesus says “Take my yoke and learn from me”, he’s using a word that has the same root as “disciple”, which means “learner.”  He’s not asking us to learn from him academically or merely spiritually, he’s asking us to take up a way of life.  This way of life – this life of discipleship – is not easy.  It has costs.  A disciple loves the Lord with all of his or her heart, soul and body.  Living this life of discipleship means we have to give up some things that we want, and instead put love of God and neighbor ahead of our own desires.  But in doing so, we are given rest. 

Jesus promises to give us rest, or using the King James translation as you see on this icon, “I will refresh you.”  When I hear the word rest, I think of sitting down in a recliner and putting my feet up after a long, exhausting day.  Refreshment makes me think of how it feels to open up a cold beer on a warm, sunny afternoon after having worked in the yard for a few hours.

         The Greek word “rest” in the New Testament and in the Greek translation of the Old Testament can refer to Sabbath rest, the rest of death, or rest from war when Israel’s enemies have been subdued. But more importantly, the idea of “rest” functions as an image of salvation, of what will be when the world is finally ordered according to God’s purposes and enjoys its full and complete Sabbath.  In promising us “rest,” Jesus promises life under God’s reign in the new world that he is bringing.[1]  This is the “rest” we pray for when we pray “thy kingdom come” in the Lord’s Prayer – it’s not just a “rest” that will come when we get to heaven, but “rest” right here, right now.  This kingdom we’re praying for isn’t about humans being snatched up from earth to heaven.  It’s not about eternal rest from human life that we achieve when we break on through to the other side.  It’s rather the holy city, the New Jerusalem, coming down from heaven to earth.  When God’s kingdom comes – when we receive this “rest” from Jesus – God’s space and ours are finally married and integrated at last.[2]

         What are we given rest from?  Jesus says he will give rest to those who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens.  The original crowds who heard this were suffering under religious oppression from the Pharisees on the one hand, and from the Roman imperial system in which the ruling elite secure wealth, status, and power at the expense of the every day Joe on the other hand.  He promises them rest from those things.  But for all of us here today – what is it in our lives that makes us weary?  What heaven burdens are you bearing in your life? 

Jesus is calling you to come to him.  To take up his yoke upon you and learn from him.  To be his disciple.  But this call to be Jesus’s disciple isn’t a call to try to merely imitate some man who lived on earth 2,000 years ago and has left us.  We are called to be his disciple by relying on the ongoing presence of Jesus in the world today.  This ongoing presence is also included in what Jesus means by “rest.”[3]  Thank God we aren’t called to imitate Christ all alone, but instead by relying on the ongoing presence of Jesus.  How does this ongoing presence of Jesus manifest itself in the world?  Through prayer, in silence and contemplation, through community and fellowship with fellow Christians, in recreational activities.  But today, I’d like to focus on the way in which we receive rest at the altar rail.  I’m not sure about you, but I can sometimes lose focus during the second half of the service and become numb to what’s going on.  But this thing we are about to do here [point at altar] is really, really important.  In a moment, we will ask the Holy Spirit to set aside bread and wine to be for us the Body and Blood of Jesus, the holy food and drink of new and unending life in him.  And then we will come forward and receive the refreshing nourishment that he offers us in the bread of heaven and the cup of salvation.  We will receive a rest more profound and more complete than we possibly could by putting up our feet after a long, exhausting day.  We will be refreshed more deeply than we could ever be by opening up a cold one on a warm, summer afternoon.  In the Eucharist, God’s heavenly kingdom breaks into our earthly world and nourishes us with the rest and refreshment that only Jesus can offer.  Put another way, in the Eucharist, heaven kisses earth.  And it is only after we are fed with this heavenly food and drink that we are sent out into the world so that we may “continue in that holy fellowship, and do all such good works as he has prepared for us to walk in.”

We are invited this morning to bring our weariness and our burdens to Jesus.  To take up his yoke and learn from him.  To do our best to live the life of a disciple, following our Lord throughout the ups and downs of life.  But thankfully, we are not left to do this alone.  Week after week, we are invited to the altar to receive our Lord in the bread and wine of Holy Communion and to thus receive the rest and refreshment we need to go out into the world to love and serve the Lord.  Amen.

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[1] https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=970

[2] N. T. Wright, The Lord and His Prayer (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2014), 24.

[3] https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3334

Sermon for Proper 18, RCL 23, Sept 4, 2016

Proper 18, Year C – Philemon 1-21

The Rev. Charles Everson

St. Luke’s Episcopal Church

September 4, 2016

Audio file here.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.  Amen.

In Matthew chapter 17, Jesus says, "If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. And nothing will be impossible for you.”  Some take this to mean that if God doesn’t answer your prayers, you don’t have enough faith.

In Luke 12, Jesus says, "And everyone who speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven, but anyone who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven."  Does this mean that if you “blaspheme against the Holy Spirit,” whatever that means, you have no chance of being reconciled to God?

In 1 Corinthians 6, Paul says, "Do you not know that wrongdoers will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived! Fornicators, idolaters, adulterers, male prostitutes, sodomites, thieves, the greedy, drunkards, revilers, robbers-- none of these will inherit the kingdom of God." I remember stealing a rubber stamp off of my teacher’s desk in kindergarten.  This passage must mean that I won’t make it to heaven.  And those who get drunk – it’s obvious that they’re destined for hell.

Lastly, hear these words from Paul in 1 Cor. 14: "The women should keep silent in the churches. For they are not permitted to speak, but should be subordinate, as even the law says."  Sorry to break it to you, Mother…you know what that means!

It has been common throughout history for believers to use passages of Scripture, usually taken out of context, to support their own belief system.  In particular, some use Scripture to reinforce their own power over an entire group of people…as a way of excluding others from being able to receive the love and the grace of God.

The second lesson this morning is from the book of Philemon, a passage of Scripture that was commonly used to justify slavery. 

Paul writes this letter from prison.  It is there that he encounters a slave by the name of Onesimus. Onesimus has converted to Christ under Paul’s influence while in prison.  There are two possibilities as to why he’s with Paul – either he was sent by his owner, Philemon, to serve Paul in prison, or Onesimus ran away from his master for some reason.  We really don’t know for sure.

The traditional interpretation of this text is that Paul is asking Philemon to receive Onesimus back as a slave, and forgive him whatever transgressions he had committed.  This is the interpretation that has been used throughout the centuries to justify slavery. But I’d like to ask you to consider another way of looking at this story. 

Paul addresses this letter not only to Philemon, Apphia (A-phia) and Archippus, but to the entire congregation of the church that meets in one of their homes.  He uses plural pronouns when he greets everyone at the beginning of the letter, but switches to singular pronouns for the majority of the letter and appears to be speaking directly to Philemon.  He says, “Though I am bold enough in Christ to command you to do your duty, yet, I would rather appeal to you on the basis of love...I am appealing to you for my child Onesimus.”  Paul speaks diplomatically in order to try to persuade Philemon to come to his own conclusion, rather than Paul forcing him to do it, even though he had the authority to do so.

Think back through your life, and think about who your favorite boss or teacher or priest was.  The one you respected the most – the one you wanted to be like. The person you’re thinking of was probably like Paul: he or she didn’t lead by issuing edicts from on high, but instead, encouraged you and taught you and gave you the freedom to make your own decisions, even if that resulted in failure.  Paul could have ordered Philemon to do what he wanted him to do, but he instead showered Philemon and the others with thanksgiving and blessings and encouragement, and then made his argument to try to persuade Philemon to make the right choice.

What exactly what he asking Philemon to do?  Was it to receive Onesimus back as a slave?  Beginning in verse 13, Paul says, “I wanted to keep him with me, so that he might be of service to me in your place during my imprisonment for the gospel, but I preferred to do nothing without your consent, in order that your good deed might be voluntary and not something forced.  Perhaps this is the reason that he was separated from you for awhile, so that you might have him back forever, no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother.”

Perhaps Paul is asking Philemon not to receive Onesimus back as a slave, but to receive him back as a Christian brother, free from the bonds of slavery.

Although he’s asking Philemon to voluntarily commit this good deed, he isn’t shy in doing so.  In verse 22, just after the last verse we heard in the reading, Paul says, “One more thing – prepare a guest room for me, for I am hoping through your prayers to be restored to you.”  He’s hinting to Philemon, and to the entire congregation, that he will be following up to see how this ends up shaking out!  Watch out, I’ll be checking in personally to see what you decide!

The letter to Philemon is more than a “diplomatic coup” on the part of St. Paul,[1] it’s his attempt to use loving, thoughtful language to urge two individuals who fall under his pastoral charge and authority who are at serious odds not only to be reconciled to each other, but also to model the new life in Christ to which all baptized Christians are called. 

Reconciliation between Onesimus and Philemon means that their entire relationship would change.  The standards of the society of the day, which involved human beings owning fellow human beings, won’t cut it.   Last week, we heard Jesus say, ^“Indeed, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.” The Christian life is one in which the standards of society are often completely turned upside down. The slave is set free and welcomed as a brother, a fellow member of the family.

In today’s world, think about illegal immigrants.  Now, I’m not talking about the political battles on immigration, I’m talking about the people who for some reason or another find themselves in the United States illegally.  What if José, a man here illegally from Guatemala trying to earn money for his family back home, walked into St. Luke’s?  How would he be received?  What about Jenny, the single mother with three children from three different men?  Or the rich doctor who makes five times what you do and drives a car worth more than your house?  Or the older couple who live together but choose not to get married because of the economic consequences?

The Gospel teaches us that through our baptism, we are all welcomed equally no matter our rank, or income level, race, sexual orientation, moral decisions, or legal status.  At our baptism, when we are received into the household of God, we are no longer defined by any of those labels, but instead as brothers and sisters – equal members of the family.  Our identity is no longer found in human labels and categories, but instead our identity is found in the love of Christ.  In other words, we find our identity in the one who loves us and adopts us as beloved children.

There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:28)

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.  Amen.

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[1] Feasting 41.

Sermon for Proper 14, Year C

Audio recording is here.

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

Fear.  It’s in the air. 

Fear that the economy will fall back into recession.  Fear that you’ll lose your job.  For the unmarried person, fear that the person you ask out on a date will say no.  Fear that the Royals will lose! Fear that the politician you hate the most will be elected President of the United States.  Fear that you can’t pay next month’s bills.  For me, in the weeks before I arrived at St. Luke’s, fear that the new parish might be slow to accept me.  Fear that you won’t finish an important project at work by the deadline.  Fear that God isn’t here beside you as you struggle through this life.  Fear that you will die alone and unloved.

Fear.  It’s in the air.

Our Gospel passage from Luke begins with Jesus saying to his disciples, “Do not be afraid.”

This isn’t the first time that Luke uses these words.  This is the same message given to Zechariah when the angel told him his wife Elizabeth was pregnant with Jesus’s cousin John the Baptist.  It’s the same thing the angel said to Mary at the Annunciation when she was told she was pregnant with God’s son. It’s the same thing that Jesus proclaims to Saint Peter before he tells him that he will be a fisher of men.[1]

“Do not be afraid.”

In the previous cases in Luke, “Do not be afraid” comes before the announcement of a significant event.  Something daunting, something life-changing.

In this case, Jesus says “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” This is no small matter, it is just as daunting of a message as the angel telling Mary that she is pregnant with God’s son.

Out of his own delight, God gives us the kingdom.  The word kingdom is hard for us to relate to.  The last time we had a king in this country, we rejected his authority and declared our independence!  The kingdom of God refers to an inbreaking of God’s love, peace, freedom and justice into the world. We will never see the kingdom of God fully realized in this life, but only in the life to come.

We see inbreakings of the kingdom of God in this life in what is often referred to as “thin places.”  Thin places are moments in which time itself seems to stand still and the divide between this world and the next is very thin indeed. In these thin places, God’s love becomes tangible to us and we get a glimpse of heaven itself.  The sacraments are thin places, and particularly the Holy Eucharist, where we are transported in time to the hill upon which Jesus died and we are fed the bread of heaven and the cup of salvation.  In these thin places, heaven kisses earth.

But thin places are not only to be found in the sacraments.  They are also found in the face of the homeless person you see on the street corner.  In the cries of the sick person you are nursing and taking care of.  And in subtle things like hugging a child. Hearing those repetitive words “I love you” from a family member.

The thin places happen all around us, whether we’re aware of them or not.  How do we predispose ourselves to be aware of them?  Through consistent prayer, Bible study, silence, contemplation, selflessly serving others, and regular reception of the sacraments of the Church.   Without these things, we aren’t able to put aside our fear and be aware of the inbreaking of God’s kingdom around us.

Do not be afraid, for God is giving you his kingdom of love, peace, freedom and justice. 

It is in this context that Jesus tells his disciples to sell their possessions and give alms, and make purses for themselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.

When we graciously accept God’s loving kindness towards us, when we are intentionally aware of the thin places that we encounter throughout our lives, it is then that we are led to share that love and compassion with others.  Jesus is telling us to put first things first!  To be concerned about the things that truly matter in life.   

In the past couple of weeks, one of my employees at the bank had to miss a few days of work due to a very sick parent.  We have been under deadline for a few important projects, and the timing couldn’t have been worse.   I was planning on having a serious talk with her on her first day back in the office, about the importance of finishing these projects on time as we had committed to do, but ironically, before I could schedule the meeting, I started reading through our gospel passage today and became convicted that in this case, I needed to put first things first.  I almost overlooked a thin place that was right in front of me.  God was using her to extend compassion, healing, and love to her extremely sick mother.  I was being driven by fear about finishing the projects late, but God said to me, “Do not be afraid, for I am giving you the kingdom.”

What gives you anxiety in your life?  What are you most afraid of?  What is keeping you from recognizing the thin places in your everyday life? 

Jesus then goes on and tells his disciples to be ready!  Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit!  Be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour!

In the same way that the kingdom of God is seen partially in this life and fully in the next, so too is the command to be ready for both now and eternity!  Jesus comes to us at unexpected times throughout our ordinary lives.  In the face of the poor person we see at the street corner.  In the hug given to us by a friend.  In the simple words, “I love you”.  In the bread and the wine at communion.  But he will also return at the last day.  We aren’t being called to “be ready” out of fear of punishment, but in anticipation of blessing.  The certainty of Christ’s coming is not a cause for panic, but a cause for watchful anticipation for blessing.[2]  This call to be ready isn’t a cause to be overly critical of our own sins and failings, but rather to be ready to receive blessings like we could never imagine.  To be watchful and ready for thin places in this world, to be watchful and ready for the whole shebang in eternity.  To be ready for the foretaste of the heavenly banquet when we receive communion in a moment, and to be ready for the heavenly banquet itself in eternity with God.

Do not be afraid!  For God, out of his own delight, gives you his kingdom of love, peace, freedom and justice.  When the world around you brings about fear and anxiety, do not be afraid!  Be watchful for the inbreaking of God’s kingdom in the thin places.  And be ready in anticipation of Christ’s coming, both now and for all eternity.

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

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[1] David Lyon Bartlett and Barbara Brown. Taylor, eds., Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), 335.

[2] Ibid 338.

Eucharistic Sacrifice and Facing East

There has been a flurry of Anglican social media activity on these topics in the past couple of weeks (here, here, and here).  I posted the final article (here) on my Facebook page, and an acquaintance sent me these thoughts (paraphrased by me):

"This article is about as backward thinking as I have seen recently.  Is God "out there" (as in liturgical East), or is God in the Body of Christ amongst the people with whom we worship (as in liturgical West)? When I am confronted with an altar against the wall, I celebrate from the north end, like the first Anglican church on this continent.  The idea of Eucharistic "sacrifice" is Roman Catholic thinking at its worst; the next thing will be transubstantiation."

This discussion is very interesting to me. I'm learning that many Episcopal clergy who went to seminary between 1965-1990 (ish) feel the way that my acquaintance does. In this view, Vatican II brought about a "rediscovery" in the Western Church of the two things that we're discussing: 1) versus populum celebrations; and 2) the Eucharist primarily as a meal (and less so, or not at all, as a sacrifice).  In contrast, my Facebook feed has been exploding over the past 2 weeks with coherent, well-thought-out articles about celebrating ad orientem and the Eucharist primarily as sacrifice.  All from Episcopal clergy, mainly from priests aged 45 and under, and from folks who affirm the ordination of women and the full inclusion of LGBT Christians in the life of the Church.

At seminary, the class I took on the Sacraments taught essentially what this article teaches about Eucharistic sacrifice.  It was taught by an Episcopal prof, 41 years old, with a ThD from General Seminary, using current-day Anglican and Lutheran textbooks.  In fact, my primary paper in that class was was entitled "Bloodless Sacrifice as found in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer." 

The 20th century Liturgical Renewal Movement has brought about many changes to liturgical theology and practice in The Episcopal Church.  But many of us feel the baby has been tossed out with the bathwater.  The Eucharist is not just a holy meal, it's also a reenactment of the sacrifice of Jesus Christ.  It's a thin place in which all time converges at that moment when Jesus was sacrificed for us at Calvary.  In other words, at the Mass, the clergy and people are transported to the green hill far away where our Lord was crucified.  Yes, it's a holy meal in which we are fed spiritual grace, but first and foremost it's a sacrifice.  We are fed spiritual food and drink, but only after Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us.

This is the foundation for the discussion of ad orientem celebrations of the Eucharist.  It is only with this theology in mind that it makes sense to face liturgical East.  The priest leads the people in praying toward Calvary.  The priest makes his or her sacrifice on behalf of the people - the same sacrifice that was made on the cross.

To address the point about how this "Roman Catholic thinking at its worst, the next thing will be transubstantiation."  Eucharistic sacrifice, and ad orientem orientation is entirely Anglican.  Rome is irrelevant to this discussion, except that when these ideas are traced, they existed in England prior to the Reformation. Also, transubstantiation isn't a scary word in my book.  It's not the word I use to describe what happens at the Eucharist.  Instead, I would say that before the Eucharistic Prayer, it's bread and wine, and after the Eucharistic prayer, it's the body and blood of Christ.  That's why we genuflect to the tabernacle, that's why we bow to the altar, that's why we prepare ourselves via confession and absolution before receiving the most precious body and blood of our Lord.

As a side note, I would never celebrate from the north side of the altar.  The catholic position is eastward or westward facing.  Either is permissible and sometimes appropriate; eastward facing makes the most sense to me.

 

I find this article to be refreshing and indicative that the Episcopal Church is rediscovering things that were lost in the 1970's.  Old things are being made new.  It's time to rediscover a Eucharistic theology that is coherent with both the early Church and with our post-Reformation identity.

Sermon for Proper 12, Year C

Proper 12, Year C – Luke 11:1-13

The Rev. Charles Everson

St. Luke’s Episcopal Church

June 24, 2016

Audio recording is here.

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

It has been six weeks since I first stepped foot in the door at St. Luke’s!  I’ve been trying to get to know all of you little by little over the past six weeks, and I feel like I’ve just begun to scratch the surface. But it only took a few days to learn something very important about this community:  you pray for one another.

One of the first things Mother Mary suggested I do was to sign up to receive the prayer list: Pulse of the Parish. Thanks to Maxine’s loving work on her computer, we have prayed for Penny Hughes as she’s undergone surgery.  We’ve prayed for Marlin Howard during the last moments of his life.  For Brenda Carl’s sister and brother in law and their serious health issues.  For John Hoffman when he recently had a heart attack.  And we’ve even prayed for a woman outside of the parish who is pregnant and was bit by a spider, causing serious concerns for the health of the baby and the mother.

We all turn to prayer naturally during life’s most serious moments when someone is in need.

But what about during life’s ordinary moments?  Is prayer as easy then as it is when someone we love is struggling?  How many of you have struggled knowing how or what to pray when everything seems to be going well?

I went to college at a small Southern Baptist school in Arkadelphia, Arkansas, called Ouachita Baptist University.  OBU was in a dry county, but of course, we didn’t drink anyway because we were good Baptists!  The nearest movie theater was 45 minutes away and the most exciting thing that happened to the town while I was in school was when we got a Super Walmart! 

I was a Baptist at the time, but all Christians believe that it’s important to spend time with God in prayer and Bible study regularly.  The Southern Baptists called this “having a quiet time.”  I remember waking up in the wee hours of the morning to try to spend time with God in prayer, and often wondered, “What in the world should I be praying?  No one in my life is sick.  I’ve prayed for everyone in my family.  What’s next?  Lord, teach me to pray.”   

Today’s gospel begins by one of Jesus’s disciples saying to him, “Lord, teach us to pray.”  

His response was to give us that prayer that has come to be known as the Our Father, or the Lord’s Prayer.  We all know it by heart and pray it together every time we celebrate the Eucharist, and often personally in our own prayer lives.

But Jesus wasn’t just intending to give us a beautiful prayer to pray together over and over.  More importantly, he was giving us a way or a model for prayer.  In the Lord’s Prayer, we learn first to address God as Father, then we praise God and ask him to bring his Kingdom to the here and now, and only then, we petition God.

We often think of God as a great King in the sky who is far away, impersonal, and full of condemnation much like He is portrayed in Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail.  But Jesus starts out by calling us to approach God as “Father.” The relationship between parent and child is an inherently intimate relationship that we can all relate to.  God isn’t just some distant monarch who rules from afar.  He is close to us, and cares for us just as a parent cares for his or her child.  God loves us.  God loves us.  I don’t think we can hear this too often.  Because God loves us, he wants us to be close to him. Jesus teaches us to enter into prayer by intimately addressing a very personal God who cares for us and loves us more than we can ever imagine.  

He continues, “Hallowed be your name.  Your kingdom come.”  The word hallowed is another way of saying holy, or sanctified.  Jesus isn’t asking us to declare that God’s name is holy, but rather Jesus is teaching us to ask God to make his own name holy in the world.  In other words, we are asking God to bring about his kingdom in our lives and in the world around us.  To bring justice and freedom and peace into our very souls, into our homes, into our jobs, into our politics, and into our broken society.  To quote Rowan Williams, former archbishop of Canterbury, we are called to pray, “May what You want shine through in this world and shape the kind of world it is going to be.” 

It is only then that we should start asking for what we need.  Asking God to provide the daily bread we need to sustain us.  Asking for forgiveness of our sins as we forgive those who sin against us. Asking for the strength to remain faithful to God in the midst of temptation.

And yes, for healing and strength for those who are sick, poor and needy. For Penny Hughes as she recovers from surgery, for the repose of the soul of Marlin Howard and for Nona and their family, for Brenda’s sister and brother-in-law Barbie and Todd, for John Hoffman as he recovers from his heart attack, and for the pregnant woman who was bit by the spider.

Jesus continues with a parable.  In this parable, a friend goes to another friend at midnight to ask for three loaves of bread.  His friend can’t be bothered to get up and give him the bread just because he’s his friend, but because of his persistence, the friend will give him whatever he needs. 

The word persistence is better translated from the Greek as “shameless.”  The person in need shamelessly knocks at the door of his friend at midnight, exposing the shameful behavior of his friend who stays in bed rather than answering his urgent need.  Jesus is telling us in this parable to be shameless in our prayer life.  Keep asking, and it will be given to you.  Keep searching, and you will find!  Keep knocking, and the door will be opened. 

Praying in this way that Jesus taught us is not for the faint of heart.  It’s so tempting to jump to the end and pray for our own needs and the needs of others.  That’s tangible.  We can read from our prayer list.  It’s also easy to give up on prayer out of boredom, or because we feel like our prayers are not being heard. It’s much more difficult to approach prayer, in silence, and seek to be in an intimate relationship with the creator of the universe.  That’s hard work.

Many of you already have a prayer routine, though some of you may not.  But I imagine that even more of you are like me: you have a prayer routine and you have a hard time sticking to it!  During the next week, I challenge you to spend just a few minutes in prayer each day.  Choose a convenient time with no distractions, no cell phones, no TV, and just sit for a few minutes.  Resist the urge to jump to the end and start praying for your own needs and those of others.  Start by approaching God in intimacy and love, and for a few moments, sit and revel in the fact that God loves you more than you can even imagine.  Then, praise him for who he is and ask him to use you to bring forth his kingdom here upon earth.  And then, ask God for forgiveness and pray for your own needs and the needs of others.  Shamelessly, again and again and again.

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

Adam Winter, Jr. - Funeral

Adam Winter, Jr., died at age 24 on December 7th.  His father, one of the owners of my bank, asked me to officiate his funeral.  The sermon is below, the bulletin can be found here, and his obituary is here.

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The reading from the book of Psalms that we just heard read so beautifully by Adam’s grandfather Roger is probably the most commonly read passage from the Bible at funerals.  While it certainly has words of comfort and peace, the fact of the matter is that we truly are in the midst of what the psalmist describes as “the valley of the shadow of death”.  It’s not where any of us want to be.  Adam Jr. died on Monday, very suddenly and very unexpectedly and at a shockingly young age.  And so here we are – in the valley of the shadow of death.  Comfort and peace and hope will come, but we are here for now.

We’ve heard from some of Adam’s closest friends and from his father in the letter that he wrote to honor him.  I only met him one time in passing, but over the last week, I feel like I’ve gotten to know him just a little bit.  He was not only a smart guy who made excellent grades in school, but he was a very deep thinker.  Adam Sr. showed me a stack of books he had been reading for fun, and let me tell you, they are the types of heavy-duty philosophy books that I’ve had to read in seminary – NOT the types of books I would be reading for fun.  I have a feeling that Adam and I would have enjoyed a robust philosophical, and maybe even theological discussion, while imbibing in a little whisky.  And from what I’ve gathered, Adam inherited his father’s stubbornness and intense passion, and so such a discussion would likely have been lively and possibly even a little heated.

The psalmist declares that “God leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.”  The word righteousness often makes people think of “self-righteousness”, or being “holier than thou.”  But here, righteousness refers to “right behavior” within the larger human family.  These paths of righteousness look different in different contexts, and with different people, but Adam certainly lived out aspects of this in his generosity and self-giving.  He worked as a counselor with Camp Kesem, a camp for children whose parents have cancer, for two summers in a row and was preparing for a third summer.  He was instrumental in getting a campus chapter up and running at the University of Colorado Boulder in 2013.  While we certainly aren’t going to take up an offering today in this service, I would strongly encourage you to consider making a donation to Camp Kesem to help continue the generous work of righteousness that Adam started.

Before we can get to comfort and peace and hope, it’s interesting to note that many think that Psalm 23 is actually an extension of Psalm 22.  Psalm 22 begins, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?  Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?  O my god, I cry by day, but you do not answer, and by night, but find no rest.” 

This is how some of us feel right now.  Where is God in all of this?  Why did he allow this to happen?  How could anything good come from this?  You may be angry with God, or angry with Adam, or even angry with yourself.  God is OK with your anger, and Adam would be too.  Let yourself be angry.  It’s OK.  

In the grieving process, anger often turns to a deep sadness and maybe even depression or a sense of abandonment.  That may be where you are right now.  The psalmist’s deep sense of abandonment, heard in those haunting words “My God, my God, why have your forsaken me,” were repeated by Jesus when he was in his moment of deepest despair on the cross.  

This despair is healed in these beautiful words: even in the darkest valley of the shadow death, “I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff – they comfort me” and for Jesus, the despair was more fully healed when God raised him from the dead on Easter day.

Even though it may seem absurd right now, there is hope, and there is comfort, and there is peace.  It may not happen right away, and it may seem out of reach for some time. 

“…for you are with me.”  God is with us in the midst of our suffering and pain.  Sometimes, we experience God’s presence in intense moments of prayer or perhaps at the altar rail at Holy Communion, but more often we experience God’s presence in the ordinary course of our everyday lives.  Maybe a hug from a friend, or in someone offering to do something tedious for you just because they love you.  Maybe it’s in sharing a meal with your family or friends, or maybe God’s presence is made known to you up in the mountains as you hike, or with a sunrise, or the gust of the wind.  Or maybe you experience his comforting presence as you listen to music.

Not only does our faith give us comfort in the knowledge of God’s presence, but our faith also gives us hope.  The author of the book of Hebrews says it this way: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things yet unseen.”  Hope is a tricky thing because it often entails believing in something that isn’t scientifically proven, something “yet unseen.”  Hope, for many of us, is the conviction that life does not end in death, but rather that death transforms us into a life with God and those whom we love that lasts forever.

I was talking with Connor, one of Adam’s best friends, last night, and he said something very interesting:  he said, “You know, Adam is still very much alive.  The fact that we’re talking about him right now means the neurons in our brains are recording bits of Adam that will never go away.”  I’ve been thinking about that, and I think maybe he’s on to something.  There is hope – hope for resurrection, hope for everlasting life, hope that we will see Adam again one day – but maybe that hope manifests itself through our cherished memories and conversations about Adam, in listening to the music that he loved, in not letting Adam’s impact on this world die. While he’s no longer physically with us, his life continues in these things, and they give us glimpses of hope to hang on to.

And so we grieve, and mourn, and yet we have hope.  Hope of continued life beyond the grave, with God and with those whom we love.  May each of us experience God’s comforting presence in the coming weeks and months in the midst of our pain, and may Adam rest in peace, and rise in glory.  Amen.

Abortion

I woke up this morning with an itch to write.  The topics swirling around in my head include low carb cheesecake recipes, prayer book revision, my Parisian memoirs, and abortion.  Abortion seems like the least controversial of these topics, so here goes.

Most people who talk about abortion these days are talking past each other.  Most actually believe abortion is morally wrong much if not all of the time, but they completely disagree on whether abortion should be legal.

This is not meant to be another "10 theses on..." type of discussion, but here are my thoughts in no particular order.

1.      Pro-life, pro-choice, pro-abortion, and anti-choice are unhelpful labels.  No one agrees on what they mean.  One can be pro-life and believe abortion should remain legal, while one can also be pro-choice and believe that abortion is morally wrong.

2.      As of 2011, the CDC reports that the induced abortion ratio is at its lowest level since 1973 (the CDC began receiving these numbers in 1970 - the link to the CDC stats is available via Wikipedia).  Why is it that it’s so low compared to the highest year in 1985?  The legal status of abortion has essentially not changed at all.  Pro-lifers should ask themselves "why", find out why, then support causes that have contributed to this decrease.

3.      It drives me crazy when feminist activists whine about men offering their opinion on abortion because men will never bear children.  This discussion affects men as well as women, though of course in different ways.  Even gay men have a right to offer their opinion.  I have lots of friends who want to adopt, and there are many babies who are aborted who would live wonderful lives being raised by gay parents.

4.      When folks of a more conservative bent rant and rave that the United States should defund Planned Parenthood because of their abortion practices, I literally roll my eyes.  It is illegal for the federal government to financially support abortion.  It doesn’t do it.  It funds other activities of Planned Parenthood which include sex education, reproductive health, maternal and child health services, cancer screening, and HIV screening and counseling.  It does not fund Planned Parenthood’s abortion activities.  Defunding Planned Parenthood will likely lead to more abortions.  “Pro-Life” activists should stop being so hypocritical.  

5.      When folks of a more liberal bent rant and rave when church leaders speak out about the moral implications, I literally roll my eyes.  Church leaders (whether male or female) are supposed to be talking about such things, and we have religious freedom in this country.  Agree or disagree with a specific church’s position on abortion, but don’t whine about white men preaching about things that don’t affect them directly.  Religious leaders talk about morality.  Deal with it.

6.      The Episcopal Church’s two primary official statements on abortion are as follows:

a.      "Resolved, That this 71st General Convention (1994) of the Episcopal Church express its unequivocal opposition to any legislative, executive or judicial action on the part of local, state or nation governments that abridges the right of a woman to reach an informed decision about the termination of pregnancy or that would limit the access of a woman to safe means of acting on her decision."-71st General Convention 1994.

b.      "All human life is sacred from its inception until death. The Church takes seriously its obligation to help form the consciences of its members concerning this sacredness....We regard all abortion as having a tragic dimension, calling for the concern and compassion of all the Christian community. While we acknowledge that in this country it is the legal right of every woman to have a medically safe abortion, as Christians we believe strongly that if this right is exercised, it should be used only in extreme situations. We emphatically oppose abortion as a means of birth control, family planning, sex selection, or any reason of mere convenience."-69th General Convention 1998


c.       All of the official statements of the Episcopal Church on abortion can be found here. 

d.       If anyone thinks the church is endorsing abortion as a good thing, they should be gently coaxed into reading these statements again, and again, until they understand them.  The Episcopal Church is pro-life (which again, doesn’t equate to believing abortion should be illegal).

7.      Making abortion illegal would not reduce the number of abortions.  Abortions would continue in back alleys and behind closed doors, and the women who get them would not receive proper medical attention.

8.      There have to be legal guardrails around something like abortion.  It’s obvious to state that a child born at full term is alive, but it’s less obvious to state that a zygote is alive one second after the sperm fertilizes the ovum.  I believe abortion should generally be illegal after the child can meaningfully survive outside of the womb (I think).  Scientists and doctors are better equipped to determine when that is than I am.

9.      The federal government and religious non-profit groups alike should be pouring money into social services that in fact result in a reduced number of abortions (including many of the services provided by Planned Parenthood).  This is pro-life.  Such services include but are not limited to adoption education for pregnant mothers, contraception, sex education.  Also, the government should subsidize adoption at a greater level than it does currently.  It should be essentially free to adopt a child.

10.  There are plenty of areas where those on both sides of the legality debate can and should cooperate to ultimately reduce the number of abortions.  See #9.

Now that I've settled this issue once and for all, I'll move on to deciding between controversial low carb cheesecake recipes.