Enough is Enough

At the gym this morning I looked up at the tv screen to see news out of DC that there was another shooting. The sad part is that I had to really scour CNN's website to find that link. It wasn't front page news, in fact it wasn't even easy to find on the US main news page. Have acts of gun violence become so commonplace that they're not really news worthy?

My immediate reaction to seeing this was outrage and I remarked to someone next me "I'm really getting tired of these shootings." Violence happens; I get that, but what is really getting me angry is the Christian response. And as I preached last Sunday, this is a sort of holy anger that alerts me to the fact that things are not right. The way to address this is to imitate Jesus.

In the past few weeks we've seen shootings in Aurora, Wisconsin, Texas A&M, DC, and Iraq. Enough is enough! Yesterday I was reading Martin Luther King's Letter from Birmingham Jail (full text) and was struck by his complaints against the Church-

"Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection...I must honestly reiterate that I have been disappointed with the church. I do not say this as one of those negative critics who can always find something wrong with the church. I say this as a minister of the gospel, who loves the church...In deep disappointment I have wept over the laxity of the church... there was a time when the church was very powerful in the time when the early Christians rejoiced at being deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society...things are different now. So often the contemporary church is a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. So often it is an archdefender of the status quo."

We are guilty as charged. Enough is enough! As Christians, we are called to work for the Kingdom of God  and all that stands against it. This would include gun violence, and therefore against guns. Now I understand the arguments of those in favor of gun rights, but I'm also familiar with the Gospel of Jesus, who proclaimed living in such a way that the Kingdom of God might come on earth as it is in heaven. And I am convinced that gun ownership is not a hallmark of the Kingdom of God.

Jesus was clear when he said "put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword." Of course, you can also find violent images in the Bible as well. But it seems clear to me that the most effective way to exegete the Bible is to use canonical criticism, looking at the whole of Scripture instead of just picking verses to make a point (eisegesis). And overall, we see the arc of the Bible as bending towards peace, love, harmony, justice, redemption, and Resurrection- not violence.

I'm not advocating taking away anyone's Second Amendment rights, but I'm saying that Christians might consider surrendering that right. It is time that we put down our guns and teach our children and our world that we will not die by the sword. It is time that our actions proclaim what our faith does- that death is not the worst thing that can happen to us. We do not need guns to protect our property (didn't Jesus say something like "store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal"?). Plus, if we were truly concerned about protecting our family's safety, we'd be more concerned about texting drivers, drunk drivers, and red-light running drivers. It is time to trust Jesus more and the false sense of security that alarms, guns, and armies give less.

I'm not going to get into statistics here because that's not what this is about. I can cite sources that say that most gun injuries are confined to the homes that have guns, I can point out that if everyone in that Aurora theater had a gun that many more people would have died, I can suggest that other nations with stricter gun-control laws see less violence. But if you disagree with me, you'll have your own statistics. I'm not trying to win an argument in this blog post, I'm trying to proclaim the prophetic call to turn back to God.

You might also say that people kill people, and if it wasn't guns, it would be something else. Recently my brother posted a photo of an assault rifle on Facebook and said something like "can't wait to play with my new toy." I challenged him on calling it a "toy." His rebuttal was that the golf clubs that I use to play golf could be used to kill someone, just like his gun. But the point that we are missing is that guns are killing machines. That is why they exist. And our lax attitudes towards them in video games, movies, and shooting ranges has poisoned what should be our disgust and terror of such killing machines. One thing that really affected me when I was in Israel earlier this year was seeing so many guns. When we see a gun, our stomachs should churn and the hairs of our neck should stand. Guns should not be normal as they have become in our culture; as they would not be normative if God's peace broke out all over the earth.

Hunters might protest and say that those guns are different, and I'll cede that point. But even so, we don't need to hunt with sniper rifles or automatic weapons. And there is a message sent to those in a household where guns are present. The message may be subtle and unstated, but it is there. It says "guns are normal." Hunting can be done humanely (though it isn't always) and it is a fact of life that we see throughout the animal kingdom. But killing, even for food, should never be a sport or done for fun. It is a dangerous message and a slippery slope.

It is time for Christians to, as King encourages, actually do something about this problem in our nation. It is time to realize that those who are disciples of Jesus (and by that I don't mean those that show up on Sundays and say they love Jesus but don't want to sacrifice anything to make the Kingdom come, but I mean people who get what it means to follow the crucified and resurrected One) to put down the guns and work for peace. We might encourage others to do so, and stand up for laws that encourage better restrictions on gun (and all kinds of) violence. It is time for us to realize that the Way of Jesus is not easily reconcilable with groups such as the National Rifle Association. It is time for Christians to take seriously the prayer that we use most often and live it out- "thy Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven." Because enough is enough!

Time for Boot Camp

So last week I decided that my workout routine needed something new and dynamic; I needed to challenge myself and my body. I began attending Boot Camp (shameless plug- Absolute Fitness is a great place to work out) for some heart-pumping, muscle-testing exercise at 6 am. The first day, while I was sweating profusely and trying not to pass out, I thought "this is what we need at church."

Now I realize that Episcopal liturgy has been called "Pew Aerobics" for some our routines of changing stances from standing, to sitting, to kneeling throughout the service, but I have something else in mind. There are a few great things about this Boot Camp that the Church would do well to learn from-

1) Community- If I were doing an hour of intense cardio in my house, I'd be much more likely to sleep in some days because there is no accountability. I'd also be more likely to not push as hard or take longer breaks between repetitions. But in working out with others, we push each other to work harder and we know when someone isn't there. For one, we learn about what's going on in people's lives by asking "hey, didn't see you yesterday. Everything okay?," but we also build relationships with them.

2) Dedication- It takes a certain level of commitment to be at a gym by 6 am, but it is intentionally carved out time. To participate, you have to give something up- namely, sleep.

3) Results- The workouts have a purpose, getting you into shape and making you healthier. Whether our goal is to have a toned body or to loose some weight, this sort of regimented workout will help you on your way towards the goal.

I hope the direct parallels to the Christian life and worship are evident here. It's a truth that is known in most churches- small groups are what make the community. At St. Francis, we have some wonderful small groups and ministry teams, but I wonder how we might better opens these often closed groups to new members.

A renewed sense of dedication, or even change of pace, in our prayer lives can be refreshing and invigorating. I love praying the Daily Office in the context of Morning Prayer each day, but sometimes new words and techniques can take us to new places in our relationship with God. I'm reminded of a phrase I picked up at the Bollettieri Tennis Academy last year- "itensify your preparation, and increase your follow through." They were talking about training for tennis, but I think the same can be said of our prayer lives- "work hard and make sure your finish what you start." But I wonder, what things do we work harder at than prayer? Do we read more often? Spend more time watching tv? Put more energy and focus into exercise? 

Spiritual directors have often helped me to remember that all of our life is prayer. If prayer is relationship with God, then when are we not in relationship with God? Dedicating ourselves to a "spiritual boot camp" might help us to intensify our preparations throughout the day, not just when we're on our knees in prayer or reading a Bible.

And finally, what is the point of our prayer lives? What are the results we seek? Is it adoration? Is it peace? Loyalty? Something else? If you don't know why you train, then it's awfully hard to know if you're doing it. 

What does your spiritual workout look like? Where does it work? Where do you need some new routines? 

August 12 - Proper 14B

Almighty God, may you guide us to seek the truth- come whence it will, lead where it might, cost what it will. Amen.

            Are you serious? You’ve got to be kidding me! Another Sunday where the Gospel passage is from chapter 6 of John. In fact, we have five Sundays in a row of this whole “bread of life” saga. What do these lectionary composers expect preachers to do with five Sundays in a row of the same passage? How many times do they want us to explain the same thing? Are they testing our patience to see how long before we get bored? It’s ridiculous.

            You might wonder why I’m so angry about this. Well, this is a sermon about the place of anger in our lives and in our faith. And while preaching for five weeks in a row from the same passage in John can be a challenge, I’m not really that upset about it. We all know anger, but we’re not really sure what to do with it. My thesis for this morning is that anger is a forgotten Christian virtue. But it is one of the more misunderstood and dangerous virtues.           

Let’s start by looking at the dark side of anger. Often, anger is seen as a sin. In fact, anger is one of the 7 deadly sins. Sometimes it’s referred to as “wrath,” but that is also an acceptable translation of the words for anger we find in today’s readings. Wrath is a rejection of God’s grace, it is to abandon hope of restoration, it is full of pride and impatience. Anger in the Bible is related to the word for “puff up” or “swell,” so it has to do with an inflated sense of ego.

            And what we do with this sort of anger is even worse. We either hold it in and let it grow into a monster until it finally bursts forth and wreaks havoc, or we let it out too easily and are constantly bickering and snapping at others. Neither is helpful, and neither is virtuous. Anger also causes us to judge others too quickly and we start playing the blame game. This is what we see happening in our reading from John today. Jesus says that he is the bread of life and as our text notes, “they began to complain about him.” They got angry, and they got combative. They say “is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know?” Essentially, they’re insulting him and saying “where does he get off saying that?” They do evil in their anger- they discredit him, they launch personal attacks, they dishonor the God in him. Sound like any political commercials you’ve seen lately?

            When we get angry, too often we attack. And when this anger spews out in this way, we distort the subject of our anger, dehumanizing them. This is what allows people to justify their acts of violence towards others. When anger allows us to dehumanize and invalidate the grace and love of God in each person, and in all of Creation for that matter, then that anger is indeed a sin. This sort of anger distracts us from seeing people as the beloved children of God.

The other way that anger affects us is by distorting us. Mary Gordon once wrote an essay about anger. She tells the story of hosting a family gathering. She was the only one in the kitchen, doing all the preparing and all the washing of dishes. And you all know how that is, you get angry when you hear everyone laughing and see them sipping their wine without them offering any help. Earlier that day, she promised her mother and children that she would take them the pool to relax after the meal. So once the guests leave, the children and mother get in the car with their bathing suits on. They wait a few seconds and they started leaning on the horn, “beep beep beep”. She flew out the kitchen, and jumped on the hood of the car and started banging on windshield. She screamed “I’m not taking you the pool, I’m never taking you to the pool, and I won’t let you in my house again until the day you die.”

Have you ever feel like that? I’ve never jumped on a car, but I’ve wanted to punch through a windshield before. When she calmed down, one of her children came to her and said “mom, you really scared me.” She asked “what was scary about me?” And the child responded “I was scared because I couldn’t recognize you.” Anger makes us something that we are not. It can destroy us and make us unrecognizable even to our closest loved ones. Anger can define us when left unchecked. But instead, anger should drive us to love the good. So with that in mind, we turn to looking at the virtue of anger.

When anger appears virtuous it grows out of love. When we love someone or something, we are invested in. CS Lewis once wrote that “there is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken.” Anger is the proper and healthy response to having your heart wrung and broken. Being angry is natural when you are disappointed in the loss or failure of the object of your love. We hold those whom we love to high standards, we trust them, we believe in them- and so when expectations are not met, we get angry. We get angry that goals are not achieved and purposes are not lived into. Anger is our sign that things didn’t go the way we expected. If we can’t be angry about things that are important to us, we should take a hard look at our devotions and commitments.

This sort of anger is similar to the burn you get on your hand when touching a hot stove. It says to us “danger ahead.” Or you might compare anger to a flashing yellow traffic light, alerting us to be cautious because things aren’t going as planned. William Sloane Coffin famously remarked that “anger is what keeps us from tolerating the intolerable.”

This is a sort of righteous anger, the kind of anger that we find in God, Jesus, and the prophets. We see it in the interactions between God and Moses, Abraham, David, and Job. Anger can very much be a Christian virtue if it is a part of true love. Jesus, in anger, overturns the moneychanger’s tables in the Temple and had many a heated and angry debate with Pharisees. Prophets such as Micah, Jeremiah, and Obadiah are filled with righteous anger at people who pervert justice and abuse the widow and the orphan. Their anger keeps them from tolerating the intolerable, and thereby their anger allows them to call people back to the Kingdom of God.

If we take a closer look at the story from 2 Samuel this morning we can see a great illustration of both anger as a sin and anger as a virtue. I don’t often like to say things such as “if you think your life is bad, just look at this story from the Bible” because sometimes people truly are living in the valley of the shadow of death and things are that bad. You know the saying “it was a flood of Biblical proportions;” well, David’s family is a dysfunctional family of Biblical proportions. So we’ve been reading about David’s affair with Bathsheba and murder of her husband. That’s pretty bad. But then one of David’s daughters is raped by her half-brother, Amnon, who then is killed by his half-brother, Absalom, who was Tamar’s full brother. There’s a nephew, Joab, in the family as well who had bad blood with Absalom, David’s son. Absalom is killed in today’s reading by Joab and then Joab is later killed under Solomon because David ordered it. Like I said, dysfunction on the Biblical scale.

But what I want to point out is how David treats Absalom. Absalom had rebelled against his father, David. He had taken David’s concubines for himself and was wanting to overthrow his father as king. David was full of anger, but that anger did not overcome the love he had for his son. His anger remained virtuous- it signaled to him that there were problems in the family, but he did not resort to revenge. So he says “deal gently with Absalom.” He would not let his anger destroy the relationship or define him. Joab, on the other hand, was full of sinful anger. He disobeys orders, abuses his power, and murders his defenseless cousin. His was an anger of retribution, of taking justice into his own hands, of hatred.

We all experience both kinds of anger from time to time. However, it is our decision to control our anger like David, or to let our anger control us, like Joab. I’m angry. I’m really angry at times. I’m angry about followers of Jesus who in the gun-control debate put the Second Amendment above the peace of Jesus. I try to avoid fast food, but when I eat it, my favorite meal was a spicy chicken sandwich with waffle fries. But now I can’t make that order without getting a side of prejudice- that makes me angry. I’m angry that Christianity has become a cultural assumption in America instead of a decision for sacramental and sacrificial living. I’m angry at politicians who seem to lie constantly and only care about their own agenda instead of the good of people who they represent. But you and I both know that this sort of anger is only going to fester until it destroys me, or those around me when the anger bursts out. So what are we to do with this anger? How do we let anger be a virtue instead of a sin?

Anger tells us that something isn’t right, and imitating Jesus is the way to address that. We heard St. Paul discuss the place of sinful anger and imitation of Christ in his letter to Ephesus this morning. Theologian Richard Niebuhr talks about the “ethic of response.” This is different from people who wear bracelets that say “WWJD?” and ask themselves “what would Jesus do?” That’s a dangerous question because you’re allowed to answer for yourself. I don’t know about you, but I’m not comfortable speaking as if I were Jesus. Instead, the ethic of response is about responding to God’s nature and activity.

So God loves us, therefore we should love others. God created the world, so we should give thanks and protect the earth. God redeems us, so we should accept forgiveness. God is judge, so we should commit ourselves to good instead of evil. As Ephesians 5:2 notes, “Christ loved us and gave himself up for us.” So our task is not to try to figure out how Jesus would act in a different situations, but instead is to respond to what Jesus has already done. He has already loved us, already showed us that death is not final, already proclaimed the good of the Kingdom of God over and against the kingdoms of greed, power, oppression. Not WWJD?, but instead “how do we keep the ministry that Jesus begun going?”

As a quick aside, I know many of us perhaps have some issue with the line in John that reads “no one can come to me unless the Father draws them.” It sounds very exclusive and unloving. Instead though, Jesus is simply talking about this very point- the ethic of response. We cannot come to God on our own, but only as a response to God’s drawing us in.

St. Paul encourages us to imitate God and be a fragrant offering. That’s wonderful imagery. Be a fragrant offering. Think for a moment about fragrances. Perfume or cologne on the one you love or the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the morning. To be fragrant is to be a visible and perceptible vehicle of love, of hope, of grace. If we are fragrant, that smell will overpower the sin of anger and allow us to stay on the path of virtue.

Fragrances are also pleasing. I’m pretty sure that you can’t buy any perfume with the name “sewer,” “rotten food,” or “used diaper.” Fragrances should smell like Jesus. And what did Jesus smell like? Well, he was earthy, in the sense that he wasn’t afraid to do some dirty work, but he also smelled like the lilies of the field. His body was anointed with oils and perfumes for death, reminding us that there will be sacrifice in imitating him. But overall, the message of the Gospel is one of liberation, of love, of justice, and that indeed is a sweet smell to our souls.

Good fragrances are also attractive, meaning that they draw us in. If you’re in a crowded room and someone walks in with a nice perfume on, your attention turns to them. In imitating God, we strive to do so in an attractive and constructive way. We don’t need to cram our beliefs down the throats of others. We don’t need to fight over a truth that is not fully knowable on this side of life, but instead we should fight for the Kingdom of God to come on earth as it is in heaven. We don’t need to focus on judgment or other extensions of sinful anger. That isn’t very attractive, and I think that it’s pretty clear that the Church is guilty of being unattractive. There is a reason that so many young adults are staying away from the Church, we’re not really doing much by our actions to appear attractive or genuine.

In imitating God, we are able to better control our anger and let virtue reign instead of wrath. This passage from John about the bread of life offers a final consideration in living with anger. It’s something that we all know- when you’re hungry, you get irritable and angry. Empty stomachs have probably led to many bad decisions throughout history. Skip a meal and you end up cranky. And here I’m shifting to metaphorical meals. Jesus is the bread of life, whoever comes to Jesus will never be hungry and whoever believes in him will never be thirsty. Imitating Jesus will satisfy our needs. Not our needs for a job, not our needs for a new car, not our needs for a cure to our illnesses, but instead our needs for spiritual hunger. And once our soul is filled, then we can attend to our bodily needs. If our souls are hungry, anger will likely lead to sin; but if we are content in our soul, we can use anger as a virtue. Feed on Jesus, he is the true bread come down from heaven that will nourish us.

Though it often gets a bad name, anger is indeed a virtue with a place in the Christian life. Anger can destroy us, or it can save us. Anger is a warning that tells us that something isn’t right, and imitating Jesus is the way to address that. Anger indeed is a virtue, but one which we must be responsible and response-able to. Anger must be kept within the bounds of love and kept on a leash, and anger should make us able to respond to injustice and apathy when we encounter it.

May almighty God grant us the virtue of holy anger that awakens us to evil and keeps us from being consumed by sinful anger. May God gift us with the strength and fortitude to imitate Jesus Christ our Lord in being a fragrant offering, responding to the grace, love, and justice of God. And may we be nourished this and everyday by Jesus, the bread of life. Amen.

July 22, 2012- Proper 11B

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

Things are not always as they seem. It’s one of those universal clichés, but there is some truth in that statement. Things are not always as they seem. I’ll start with a story from my time in DC. On a cold January day a few years ago, a man was playing a violin just outside a downtown subway station. He played for 43 minutes and just over 1,000 passed him by and tossed a total $32.17 into his violin case. No one applauded at the end of any piece that he played. And that isn’t a big surprise. You see musicians at subways stations all the time in DC.

Now I wasn’t there to witness this particular man playing the violin. But something was different about him. He looked the same as any other street musician, but the music sounded better. Turns out, it wasn’t just another guy playing the violin; it was the Grammy awarding winning, world-renowned violinist Joshua Bell. And he wasn’t playing movie themes, but instead was playing some of the most complex and beautiful music ever written. And he wasn’t playing on some instrument that was bought at a thrift store, but instead on a violin that was made around 1710 and was purchased for $3.5 million dollars. Just two days before this social experiment, Bell had sold out a concert hall where tickets went for $100 each. A man whose musical talents normally earn him $1,000/minute made only $32.17 in 43 minutes. That day, things were not as they seemed.

We find this same reality expressed in our reading from 2 Samuel this morning as well. Things are not as they seem. David is the king of Israel, a nation experiencing peace for the first time in generations. Up to this point, the Ark of the Covenant was seen as the physical representation of God’s presence with the Hebrew people. But David thinks that now that he is living in a grand city that God also deserves some sort of a fancier place to dwell. David thought it was a nice offer, but things were not as they seemed.

Many of you know that today a group of youth and adults are leaving for Grundy, Virginia to work for a week at the Mountain Mission School. Last year we spent a week there, living in community with the faculty and students of this school, and we’ll be doing that again this year. I hope that you also know that we’ve hired a very talented and enthusiastic young woman as our Director of Children’s and Youth Ministry. Bringing her on board will mean that I’ll be shifting my job description to include more work in the area of evangelism. So I’ve been thinking a lot recently about mission and evangelism and what they mean.

This passage from 2 Samuel challenges us to reconsider our assumptions, not only about the house for God, but about everything that we do on God’s behalf, which includes mission work and evangelism. Historically, mission and evangelism have gone hand in hand. The story goes like this: God has redeemed humanity in the crucifixion of Jesus, but in order to receive this salvation, you must be aware of and accept it. So the work of evangelism is telling people about it and mission work revolves around getting people to believe the same thing that what we do. And I’m not knocking mission work, a lot of good has also come from it. What I want to challenge is our view of evangelism.

God, it seems, is constantly calling us to a new vision. As soon as we get comfortable, God seems to push us in a new direction. It’s the story of David. Finally, Israel is established as a nation, they have a king, and an army that protects them from invaders. And this is when David offers to build God a house. This passage really can’t be understood without considering the Hebrew in which it was written. David says to God, “I’m going to build you a bayit.” And God responds “when have I ever asked for a bayit?” God then recounts what God has done for David- brought him into safety, handed over his enemies, and established his throne. David offers to build God a bayit, but God says “no, I’m going to make you a bayit.” The word play here is so rich- as the word bayit can mean house, but also dynasty. David is thinking in terms of a dwelling place, but God is talking in terms of an everlasting covenant. Things are not always as they seem.

I hope you see the easy parallel to mission work and evangelism that is imbedded in this turning of the tables. David thought he was to build up God, but instead it is God who builds up David. Too many missionaries have uttered the phrase “we’re going to take God to Africa, or wherever.” We do this in the Church as well; we think it’s our mission to build God up, to sell God, to sell people on the concept of faith. The Church has a real edifice complex. We focus on what we build. I applaud our national Episcopal Church for deciding this past week at General Convention to move our headquarters away from the posh downtown Manhattan office building, realizing that we are not called to build and maintain buildings.

God doesn’t seem to be very interested in, or impressed with, the things that we build. God has seen the rise and fall of empires and churches. And let’s be honest, most of what we build with our hands and take pride in doesn’t give glory to God, it gives glory to us. Jesus once said something about not letting your right hand know what your left does. But we like to have huge buildings that cost millions of dollars, we do an act of charity and we issue a press release and put it all over Facebook. Are these things built for us, or for God?

Instead, God says that God will make David into a bayit, a dynasty. God wants to build David up, not the other way around. We see a few things in this new vision of building. The first is that God won’t be confined to an Ark, a Temple, or even the Church. God will be with God’s people, wherever they are. We can’t put boundaries on God. This new vision of who builds up who also shows us a lot about what God is really interested in- us.

We are the mission of God. CS Lewis offers this parable: imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what he is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on. You knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But then he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts a bit and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is he up to? The explanation is that he is building quite a different house from the one you thought of- throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but he is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it himself.

I suggest that this is the true work of evangelism, becoming the house of God ourselves, not building it. And this is risky business for God, to put God’s mission and task into the hands of fallible and imperfect beings. For God to work with us, the limitless takes on limits, the unknowable becomes known. But God takes this risk with us because God trusts in us, and because God’s mission needs our hands and feet, our ears and mouths. As I’ve quoted St. Augustine before, I’ll do it again- “without God, we cannot; without us, God will not.” We are the mission of God.

So if God is building us into a house, what sort of house do you look like? What will be your dynasty? What will be your legacy? We are all evangelists, we all are preaching something in our lifestyle. If a Martian came to earth and met you, and was told that you are a Christian, what would they think the Gospel of Jesus is about? Would they say the Gospel of Jesus is the prosperity gospel, would they say it’s about building wealth, would they say it’s about spending every waking moment with a Blackberry in hand? Or perhaps would they say that the Gospel is about loving others at least as much as you love yourself, would they say it’s about giving so that you can be ready to receive?

A quick word-study of evangelism might be helpful at this point. Evangelism is a Greek compound word meaning “good news.” The prefix is eu and means “good,” think of euthanasia meaning “good death,” or Eucharist meaning “good thanks.” And the root is angelos, which you’ll recognize as being related the word “angel,” or those who were God’s messengers. So evangelism means “good message.” But this word, evangelism, is a noun. The real question here is how do we make this noun into a verb? How do we live evangelically?

Simply sharing the good news isn’t really enough. If I told you that I won $10 million in the lottery last night, and to be clear- I didn’t, that’s good news. But how does my telling you about it actually do anything for you? What if, though, I decided to use half of that money for you? That changes things. St. Francis said “preach the Gospel every day and use words when necessary;” and while it’s important to use the name of Jesus, he was on to something.

Evangelism is not about telling others about God, it isn’t about building things for God, but rather evangelism is about letting God build something in us. Evangelism is about being the Good News. And that too is risky, because God is going to do grand and wonderful things with you. God is going to make you into a palace, but sometimes the construction process can be a bit uncomfortable.

The blogosphere, Facebook, and Twitter have been full of commentary this past week about two articles about The Episcopal Church. One article was in the Wall Street Journal, the other in the New York Times. Both classified The Episcopal Church as being in a downward spiral of liberal insignificance and decline. I’m very proud to be an Episcopalian right now. Our Church has decided to stop building the Church as we think it should be built and let God build us instead. We’re realizing that buildings aren’t necessary for ministry, and often they hamper ministry. Just think of how much money we put into maintaining buildings and grounds. And while those buildings are beautiful and are a place to do ministry, do we really need 6 Episcopal campuses in Greensboro?  We’re starting to realize that the Holy Spirit isn’t confined to our buildings, but instead can be found in coffee shops, bars, gyms, and soccer fields. We’re realizing that God’s blessing is not confined to the limits of one man and one woman marriages. We are learning that structure and rigid hierarchy aren’t as necessary as we once thought.

And to act on this is risky and challenging. These articles were written out of fear. Fear of what it means to let God build us and shape us into the Church we are called to be instead of holding onto our power and prestige. Fear of what it means to actually make sacrifices in our lifestyle so that the poor and outcast can have a stake in the Kingdom of God. Fear is what made the Pharisees so uneasy when the rebel-rousing Jesus threatened to upset the status quo of the religion of the day.

There is a prayer that we use on Good Friday and at the Ordination of Priests, and I love it. It says “let the whole world see and know that things which were being cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

This, my brothers and sisters, is good news! The parts of the Church that are old and tired are being reborn. The mistakes we’ve made will be redeemed. Our shortcomings will become our strengths. God is building us up, we just need to get out of the way and let God do it. In our reading from Ephesians today St. Paul writes “but you are citizens of the household of God…with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone.” If we are to let God build us up, if we are to live the Good News of God’s love, God’s salvation, and God’s ongoing construction in us, we need only to let Jesus serve as the cornerstone for God’s building project in us.

So how do we do that? Well, Jesus was a man of prayer, of loving others, of serving those in need, of making sacrifices for the God’s Kingdom. If we can follow this example of Jesus, if we can live his Good News in our lives, then God will build a grand home in us. And if we don’t follow Jesus’ example, don’t expect God to just leave you alone- you’ll still hear the sound of hammers and chisels in your heart and mind, the project just might take a bit longer.

Things are not always as they seem indeed. We’ve spent too much time and energy trying to be the foremen and women of the construction project of building the Church and doing evangelism, when all this time God was trying to build something in us. It’s a lesson David had to learn, and today we are challenged with it as well. What is God building in your life? What will your house be known for? Is Jesus your cornerstone? Living the Good News is risky business, but it exactly the business that our world longs to have- justice, peace, love, and building up instead of tearing down. Let’s be the pillars of God’s Kingdom.

Today a group of us will leave for Grundy on a mission trip. The rest of you though will go on another mission trip- a mission trip to your office, to your house, to the gym, to the grocery store. We all are embarking on a mission trip today, what will be the legacy of yours? 

No Such Thing as Bad Publicity?

The old adage is that "there's no such thing as bad publicity," meaning that if your name is out there in the news, then that's a good thing. Most people have to design marketing plans, and pay for them, but publicity is free. So the thinking is that even if it's not good news, being in the news will still lead to consumer awareness and might lead to future growth.

Well, the Episcopal Church has the chance to "cash" in on some free publicity, though it's not of the good variety. On the heels of our 77th General Convention (not the best site for an overview, but it gives you the basics), two articles are lighting up Twitter, Facebook, blogs.

The first, from the New York Times: Can Liberal Christianity Be Saved? (and a response) and
The second, from the Wall Street Journal: What Ails the Episcopal Church? (and response 1, response 2, and response 3).

I'd recommend reading the articles to get a sense of what's going on, especially the WSJ piece as it's the one that's getting the most press. It's a terrible hack-job of writing that isn't worthy to be called journalism. The author, Jay Akasie, is grinding an axe and comes off quite bitter and incompetent. I'm quite surprised that the WSJ would allow such an article to be published. I'm all for dialogue and I welcome criticism, even if it hurts; but I ask that the criticism be founded on truth, not what would make his argument look better. And before I go any further, I will offer this disclaimer: I was not at General Convention (though I did my best to keep up with it via Facebook, Twitter, blogs, Episcopal New Service, and the media hub), nor do I claim to have the quick fix for the Episcopal (or any other) Church.

Some of the above responses do a very good job at bringing reason, logic, and Christian love into the conversation, which both of the original articles lack, so I won't repeat their efforts. Instead, I have a simple question.

Why do newspapers such as the NY Times and WSJ care enough to have articles about the Episcopal Church in them? Why would Douthat, a non-Episcopalian, and Akasie, a clearly disenfranchised Episcopalian, care enough about the Episcopal Church to write about it? Why do they assume that their readers want to read about a denomination that makes up only 1.4% of the US population? If we are indeed a dying breed, as they seem to suggest, why not let us die in peace? But both of these authors think we are worthy of their column space, their time, and their readers' interest.

They both obviously think the Episcopal Church needs to be criticized, but why? Neither suggests an evil that has been done, nor do they offer anything of real substance as far as criticisms go. Perhaps they are afraid.

Fear was something that the Pharisees knew quite well in the 1st century. They saw that the religion of their day was changing because people were starting to follow the teachings of Jesus- a man who upset the status quo, challenged the authorities of the day, a rebel-rouser, and called people to live transformed lives. It would be another blog post for another day, but I won't deny that the Church has corrupted and abused the message of Jesus. I've read the thoughts of many people who were at General Convention, I'm working on the Diocesan Galilee Commission and I see God active in our Church. But I might even agree that the Episcopal Church, or at least parts of it, is dying. But for a purpose.

But as Christians, haven't we learned that death isn't the worst thing? I seem to recall that same Jewish teacher that ruffled so many feathers was involved in a Sunday morning Resurrection. Parts of the (Episcopal) Church do need to die- some of our structures prevent ministry from happening, some of our budget priorities need to be shifted, sometimes we think too highly of ourselves, sometimes we think we know where God is calling us before we listen to the Holy Spirit- we're not perfect.

I can feel the winds of change sweeping through the Church, the winds of the Holy Spirit are leading us into new waters. So we're shifting some sails, doing some things differently. And we're not exactly sure where this ship will end up. And that's scary. It scares me at times, and I think it scares Akaise and Douthat.

It's great to get publicity of any kind, I suppose- though Penn State might disagree with me. I think it's great that these authors have let people know that the Episcopal Church isn't going around doing business as usual. The Holy Spirit is indeed moving about; and by the grace of God, the Church won't look the same in the future. It will take a while for people recognize that this is a good thing, and some may never see it. But the Episcopal Church that I know, and love, and serve is a Church committed to the the Gospel of Jesus Christ- of doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with our God.

So thanks to these authors for the publicity, I hope and pray that you'll be hearing a lot more about those rebel-rousing Episcopalians.

Reservations Required?

The Sacrament of Last Supper by Salvador Dali, 1955.

Some restaurants require reservations and it's not really possible to just show up and get a table. But is that a fitting metaphor for Eucharist? This is a blog post I've been considering for a while, but given that General Convention is now discussing the topic of Open vs. Closed Communion, as presented in Resolution C040, it seems to be the day to post it. This resolution would replace the current Prayer Book rubric that states that "no unbaptized person shall be eligible to receive Holy Communion in this Church" with the language "to invite all, regardless of age, denomination, or baptism to the altar for Holy Communion."


Here is a brief sketch of each side of the debate. It is also worth noting that sometimes the via media (or middle way) isn't a clear option because of the nature of some items. Open or Closed Communion is not a continuum, nor does anyone really advocate for receiving only the bread, but not the wine, as a compromise. This is one of those situations in which side must be chosen.


Open Communion-
The argument here centers around inclusion and hospitality. People will say "Jesus welcomed all to his table, so should we;" "this table does not belong to the Episcopal Church, but to God, and all are welcome at God's table." Terms such as "radical welcome" are used. Scripturally, proponents point to stories of the wedding banquet (Mt 22/Lk 14), all things being called clean (Acts 10), or examples where Jesus preaches inclusivity (ALL ye who are weary...Mt 11:28). This side points out that Jesus had table-fellowship with people from all walks of life and did not administer a litmus test before doing so. "Hospitality" is a common word found on this side. They will also point out that "these are the gifts of God for the people of God" noting that all are the people of God.


Closed Communion-
This side focuses has several valid points to make as well. One is history and the fact that it is the historical position of the Church. This side will also talk about the distinction between table-fellowship and the Last Supper, pointing out that the sacred meal on which Eucharist takes its roots was not "open," only the disciples were there. They will also talk about hospitality, and make a rather interesting point with it. They will use the metaphor of teaching a man to fish, saying that if you give a hungry person a fish, they eat for a day and are filled; but if you teach them to fish, they can be filled for a life time. They say that the true act of hospitality is to welcome people into the Body of Christ through Baptism. They will speak of our modern desire for "gotta have it now," and our impatience and quickness to cry out "not fair." From the Bible, in addition to the Last Supper, they cite passages such as the Great Commission (Mt 28:19) that place the emphasis of evangelism and mission on Baptism. Watering down the Sacraments (both Baptism and Eucharist) is said to be a concern of this camp if Open Communion were to be practiced. Finally, they would agree that Eucharist is the "gifts of God for the people of God," but would say that while all people are God's children (ie, the world), not everyone is the people of God (Israel vs the other nations).


Before I share my thoughts on the matter, take a moment and consider your own opinion. Where do you fall on the issue? Are my above summaries lacking? What would you add or change?


I began as an advocate for Open Communion, but have shifted to keeping Communion reserved for the Baptized. Open Communion has some very compelling arguments, and many thoughtful, compassionate, and learned Christians land here. However, I believe that these reasons are deficient for a few reasons:

1) It is important to stand for what you believe. The notions of "welcome" and "hospitality," while being wonderful and loving acts of the Christian life, can also erode genuine faith. We all stand for something (whether it's the DH in baseball, slaw on bbq, or the divinity of Jesus, we all have points on which we are unwilling to budge) and there is nothing wrong or shameful about having boundaries. As the Very Rev. Ian Markham writes "there are voices that want to advocate an unthinking vision of Eucharistic hospitality, which would result in the madness of inviting a Muslim who does not even believe that Jesus died on the cross to a table that remembers our Lord’s death... there are plenty of voices who want to exclude in the name of inclusion."

Pluralistic theology (where there is no inside or outside) is a slippery slope and is rather un-Incarnational. "If we stand for nothing, we will fall for anything" (Alexander Hamilton). To be a Christian is to hold certain truths and to live them out. Again, there is nothing wrong with saying that Baptism precedes Eucharist.

2) It is more hospitable to offer a path to membership in Christ's Body rather than to simply offer one of our most complex symbols to someone who doesn't understand it. Closed Communion does not mean we don't welcome people, but it does mean that instead of giving them a quick handshake, we invite them in and ask them to join the family- which is a much more radical welcome. Again, it is not to exclude, but to include in a more substantial way.


3) Other Sacraments requires a discernment/learning/preparation experience (Ordination, Baptism, Confirmation, Marriage, Reconciliation). Would Baptize a non-Christian just because they asked for it? Would we ordain a Muslim to be welcoming? Would we marry a Jewish couple in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit? Probably not. So why would we consider giving Eucharist to them?


4) Eucharistic theology is so deep and rich that to give it to anyone who would take it is to diminish and ignore that depth of meaning. This isn't to say that you need to be a liturgical scholar to receive Eucharist, but to simply hand it out without discretion is to reduce its meaning.


5) There is much theology around the ability to receive Eucharist without actually partaking in it (consider hospital patients who cannot take food/drink by mouth). The "highlight" of the Sunday service is the great AMEN that follows the Eucharistic Prayer, and this is the work of the people. Baptized and unbaptized can say it, and all are able to take part in the liturgy. I would not suggest that the unbaptized should be removed from the church before Communion starts (as was the practice in the early Church). All may participate in the celebration of the Eucharist- but the receiving of Eucharist if for members of the Body of Christ who receives bread which is the Body of Christ. Furthermore, anyone may come to the altar for a blessing.


6) The Sacrament actually does belong to the Church, at least in a sense. The Church is the steward of the Sacraments. God's grace is for all and is given to all, but the Sacraments fall under the auspices of the Church. For God, all things may be possible, but without the Church I'm not sure how the Eucharist would be celebrated. Yes, metaphorically it can happen around shared meals, but I'm talking about the actual Sacrament. So if the Church oversees and administers the Sacrament, it makes sense that the Sacraments are for the Church and fall within the confines of the Church.


7) Eucharist is not the only vehicle for God's grace, love, forgiveness, or Kingdom. It is one vehicle for the Baptized, and there are others. There are also other vehicles for the non-Baptized. We can even break bread with one another and have table fellowship and love feasts (agape), but again when we break the Body of Christ as the Sacrament, it is for the Body of Christ. To close Eucharist is not to send people out with "weeping and gnashing of teeth."


8) History is important. If the Spirit is indeed calling us to a new understanding of Eucharist, let's give it a generation to see if we still can discern the same new truth in 20 years. There is no need to change the rubric so quickly. Closed Communion is not discrimination, there are no victims, so this is not like same-sex marriage in which there are actual instances of hurt and exclusion. Let's take our time and see if the Spirit is blowing, or are we just spouting the hot-air of modernity?


9) There are compelling arguments for Open Communion, such as powerful stories of unbaptized people taking Communion and feeling God's grace. But as lawyers will say, "hard cases make bad law." If such an experience is so powerful, what does it mean? And how much more would full-initiation mean? Heaven might have Open Communion, but I think it's safe to say that everyone there is also fully on-board with God (whatever God fully is) and there are no debates around theology. It's not really a fair comparison. Our goal is not to make this world Heaven, but rather it is to make this world reflect Heaven. To make our world Heaven is to create an idol- the idol of perfection.

10) It's the Prayer Book rubric, and I need good reasons to break a Prayer Book rubric. I will and do bend certain rubrics; but not all rubrics are created equal, and not all have impacts as significant as this one. Now bending and breaking might sound like a fine line, and it is. However, I am not persuaded by arguments for Open Communion to the point that I'd disregard history and tradition.

For fuller and more academic reasons for Closed Communion, see this article.

Regardless of where you stand on the issue, I look forward to the time when all of Creation will gather at the heavenly banquet. But in the meantime, I am thankful for the opportunity to discuss how best to invite all people to participate in the grace of God.

Agree? Disagree? Questions? Thoughts? Be sure to check comments too!

July 1, 2012 - Proper 8B

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

            In the spirit of the upcoming celebration of Independence Day, you might entitle this sermon “In God We Trust.” It’s printed on our money and assumed as our national motto. But what does trusting in God actually mean?

            Our reading from the Gospel according to Mark deals with this issue of trust, especially as it relates to healing. It seems that both trust and healing are in short supply. We are distrustful of so much. Thanks to the internet, anyone can be an “expert” on any subject without knowing anything; tv networks do a “Fact Check” segment after a politicians speak; and as the trial of Jerry Sandusky reminds us, trust is too easily broken.

And healing is something of which there is more demand than supply. We all need to be healed from some ill- whether it be physical, emotional, or spiritual. If you don’t think you need to be healed, then perhaps your illness is being too sheltered or the inability to recognize brokenness. The wars that rage on around the world and children dying of hunger are ills that we all suffer from. We need more healing, and we need more trust.

These two issues are addressed by Jesus today. This reading is an example of what scholars all the Marcan sandwich- it’s a story in the middle of story. So the encounter with Jairus is the bread, and the hemorrhaging woman is the peanut butter. When you read through Mark, you’ll find sandwiches all over the place, and often these sandwiches involve a contrast between the circumstances but a harmony in meaning.

So what does today’s sandwich offer us? Well, we start with Jairus, who, as our text says, is a leader of the synagogue. Today, you might call him a bishop or a senator. He was well known, powerful, and had lots of resources at his disposal. So we start with him coming to Jesus and begging that his daughter might be healed. The story is then interrupted.

On the way there a woman who had been bleeding for 12 years comes to him for healing, but in a different way. This woman would have been a societal outcast because her bleeding made her unclean. She would have gotten dirty looks from everyone, people would go out of their way to avoid walking by her on the road. So she knows that she cannot dare approach Jesus and speak to him. She walks up behind Jesus and touches his cloak and was healed. Jesus catches her in this radical act of faith and tells her that her faith has made her well.

We then find ourselves back at Jairus, going from the lowest rung of society, back to its upper echelon. And it appears to be too late, as the girl is dead. This little incident with the woman slowed Jesus down and he missed his chance. Jesus goes into the house and tells her to get up, and she does.

The contrast between this unnamed woman and Jairus couldn’t be any starker, and that is part of Mark’s point in using this sandwich technique. Two people who would never cross paths, who would never be mentioned in the same sentence are now linked for all eternity in the proclamation of the Good News. They have different truths in their life- different lifestyles, different socio-economic classes; in many ways, they didn’t even live in the same world. But they also shared a very powerful truth- they both experienced the healing of Jesus through their trust in him.

They both trusted in the power of Jesus and his healing touch. Jairus comes to Jesus and asks him to lay hands on his daughter, and the woman just wants to touch the hem of his robe. We all know the power of touch in our lives. Touch, in the form of a slap or punch, can destroy relationships, or in the form of a hug, can build up. Touch can violate boundaries, or it can initiate a relationship in a handshake. I’m reading in baby books the importance of the loving touching of a newborn, but we also remember the ways touch has been used to exploit young children by predators. Touch can nurture and touch can tear apart. Some of the most powerful experiences I’ve had as a priest have come at the touch of hands. When I was ordained and had hands laid upon me, I felt as if I was in the throne room of heaven. When I touch the bread and wine at Eucharist, I feel a great sense of awe. When I anoint the sick with holy oil, both parties are greatly moved. When I distribute communion, I find the touch of hands and bread to be powerful. And while I understand the need for Safe Church policies, I really lament that sometimes we have to throw the baby out with the bath water when it comes to touch.

Jairus and this woman both understand the power of touch. The thing about touch is that it requires us to be very close to one another. You can’t touch each other through a video chat or letter in the mail. There is something about being with each other that is powerful. But to be close enough to each other to touch, we must have a trusting relationship with one another. To be touched is to be vulnerable, but often healing only comes through touch, so we must trust.

I was struck by the line in Mark where it says that the woman knelt down to Jesus and told him her whole truth. The text doesn’t say it, but this very well might be first instance of Confession in the gospels. Confession is one of those sacraments that doesn’t get very much play in the Episcopal Church, but it should. The old adage about Confession is that “none must, some should, all may.” The Confession that we say before in the service each Sunday is really meant as to be a communal confession, not as a replacement for the sacrament of Confession.

In the Prayer Book, you’ll find that it’s called Reconciliation, which is what it’s about all about- restoring relationships so that we can be closer to God and each other, close enough to touch each other without being afraid. It is such a powerful sacramental experience because it doesn’t talk about some vague promise of forgiveness, but rather is about having an actual experience of being restored and renewed. Forgiveness is not the rewards for changing your life, but rather it is the source and condition of that change.

So I want to take this opportunity to uphold the ministry of reconciliation to you all, and invite you to participate in the holy work of Confession. And unlike the movies, you don’t have to be a mobster who just whacked someone to come to Confession. We all have a truth to tell, and Confession is a great way to tell that truth in the trust and confidence of the Church of Jesus Christ. In being forgiven, we come closer to God and closer to God’s healing and saving touch.

In this reading today, Jesus says “do not fear, only believe.” But that’s not always easy to do. It’s especially tough when we long for healing and don’t find it. Sometimes I really wish I could rewrite parts of the Bible. Or not so much rewrite, but add some stories about Jesus. I really wish there would have been a time where Jesus went to heal someone, but they died instead of getting up and walking. Because, that’s life. I read this story about Jairus’ daughter, and part of me really doesn’t understand why it is that she gets to live and so many others don’t.

Before I was born, my parents had a happy and healthy baby girl. But an unexpected medical emergency came up, and she died in surgery when she was two days old. I bet my parents prayed as hard as Jairus did, I bet they begged God just as much as he did; they wanted healing as much as the woman did. But my sister stayed dead.

Preachers often talk about how healing doesn’t always equal a cure, but sometimes I really wish that we had a story about Jesus encountering that reality. Wouldn’t it be nice to have Jesus take a stroll through Moses Cone and send everyone home happy and healthy? But it doesn’t work that way.

And this where fear comes into play. We fear that miracles aren’t possible; or that they were possible in Jesus’ day, but not here and now. Or we wonder if our sins have precluded us from experiencing this sort of healing. But as I’ve already said, we are forgiven, we are loved. Or perhaps we fear that we don’t have enough faith. And as Paul suggests in today’s epistle, we are judged based on what we do have, not what we do not have. Faith is not a contest, nor is there anything such as too much or too little faith. Perhaps you have the faith to move a mountain, and that’s great and wonderful. Maybe you have faith that struggles to move a piece of paper during a windstorm, and that’s okay too. Don’t beat yourself up over having enough faith. So what gives? Where’s the healing?

            Fear is a tough thing. As Jesus says, “don’t fear, but have faith.” That is, don’t be afraid, but instead live in trust, and live in love. The renowned preacher Peter Gomes once wrote that “fear is the absence of courage and poverty of imagination.” When we fear, we are unable to act; we are unable to feel God’s touch. When we are afraid we act out of our lowest possible emotional intelligence. Fear casts out things such as reason, hope, joy, and wonder. Fear can crush the spirit and closes the door to opportunity. Gomes also says that we fear what we don’t know and the mother of fear is ignorance.

            So Jesus cautions us against fearing. When we are ignorant, or unaware of, the touch of God going on around us, it’s awfully hard to be healed. When we are blind to the needs of others, it’s quite hard to help them out. If we focus on our sin, we cannot live freely in our forgiveness. If we fear that miracles are impossible, we probably won’t see them when they do happen.

            Sometimes I wonder if Jesus was ever afraid during these healings. Did he ever think to himself “what happens if the girl doesn’t get up? Then I’m going to be in trouble.” If Jesus did have that fear, it certainly didn’t show. Perhaps this is because the opposite of fear is not courage, but instead is compassion; and Jesus was a man full of compassion. We cannot fear what we love, and so compassion leaves no room for fear in our doing of God’s work.

            When you’re the new kid at school, your fear can get you eaten alive. And if you show too much courage, you’re treated as the kid who’s full of themselves. But the kid who comes in and is full of compassion will often fit right in. It’s hard to be afraid of someone who is nice; and if you’re focus is on loving others, it’s tough to be afraid of them.

            Now will compassion bring the dead back to life? Probably not. But if compassion ruled in every interaction, there would be a lot more healing in our world, and that would be miracle enough for me.

            Well, I hope that this Marcan sandwich was enough to hold you over until brunch. We are all in need of healing, and we yearn to trust in something that will not let us down. Whether we relate best to Jairus or the hemorrhaging woman, we come to Jesus seeking his healing touch in our lives. We are invited to tell our whole truth, in order to restore relationships; that we might trust each other enough to be close enough to touch. Jesus demonstrates that fear is cast out by compassion. So that in seeking to follow the example of Jesus’ compassion, we are given the opportunity to abound in the healing power of Jesus.

In God we trust. Amen.