May 31, 2020 - Pentecost

Lectionary Readings

Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, and lighten us with thy celestial fire. Amen.

            The Holy Spirit, in most Christian traditions, is by far the most neglected person of the Triune God. We pray to the Father often and understand that it is from God’s gracious hand that all blessings flow. Rightfully so, Jesus stands at the center of our faith. And that leaves the Holy Spirit. Part of this neglect is because we can sort of get our minds around God the Father – we even have a helpful metaphor built into it: a loving parent. And Jesus walked this earth and we have earthly stories to help us in knowing him. But who is the Spirit? Do we really mean that part of God is something like a ghost? And the ways that the Spirit shows up in Scripture aren’t always clear – water, wind, breath, and fire. These are inanimate and amorphous things. So who is the Holy Spirit?

June 9, 2019 - Pentecost

Lectionary Readings

Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire and enlighten us with thy celestial fire. Amen.

            There are many ways to think about the Holy Spirit, whose gifting to the Church we remember and celebrate on Pentecost. The Catechism tells us that the Holy Spirit is the third person of the Trinity. So the first thing to grasp is that the Holy Spirit is God. And there are many other names for the Spirit, all of which tell us something about what it is. Sometimes the Holy Spirit is described as the Advocate, telling us that it is God’s work of interceding on our behalf, sort of like a defense attorney. Sometimes the Holy Spirit is called the Holy Comforter, reminding us that God’s presence with us is one of peace and support. Sometimes the Holy Spirit is described in terms of natural elements, such as wind and fire, both of which remind us of the Spirit’s power and ability to come and go throughout the world. And sometimes the Holy Spirit is described as breath because all life and vitality emanate from God.

May 20, 2018 - Pentecost B

Lectionary Readings

In the name of the Risen ☩ Lord. Amen.

            Green tabling dogs clouds quick. I said, “green tabling dogs cloud quick.” That’s gibberish, and I have no idea what it means. While those are all words, they’ve been strung together in a meaningless way. Language is an amazing gift that has evolved in human society and allows us to communicate in such rich ways. While a picture might be worth a thousand words, even more amazingly, we actually have the ability to come up with those thousand words. Language is how we communicate, it is how we interpret the world, it is how we process our experiences, how we express ourselves. The point that I will attempt to make in this sermon is that faith is a language.

October 29, 2017 - Reformation Sunday (Proper 25A)

Readings: Isaiah 40:6-8, 43:15-21; Psalm 90: 1-6, 13-17; Romans 3:21-28; Matthew 22:34-40

Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire and lighten us with thy celestial fire. Amen.

            Today is a once in every half a millennium occurrence. As you’ve likely heard, October 31 will be the 500^th anniversary of Protestant Reformation. Martin Luther published, though most scholars agree that he did not nail to the door, his 95 Theses against abuses of the Roman Catholic Church. And thus began a period of reformation in the Church. Ten years later, when Henry VIII requested that Pope Clement VII grant him an annulment of his marriage to Catherine of Aragon the seeds were sown for the English Reformation, which was a distinct and separate reformation than the one initiated by Luther. So Anglicans have always had a complicated relationship with the Reformation.

June 4, 2017 - Pentecost

Lectionary Readings

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

            It has been argued that in the collective consciousness of humanity, as we have evolved we have also had different questions that haunt us. In times when minor illnesses could lead to death and infant and mother mortality rates were considerably high, our ancestors primarily struggled with the fear of death. Death was a constant companion, and really, there wasn’t much to be done about it, other than hoping for good luck. But as medicines improved and life expectancies lengthened, the fear of death was no longer the thing that made us most afraid.

May 21, 2017 - Easter 6A

Lectionary Readings

In the name of the Crucified and Risen Lord. Amen.

            In today’s reading from 1 Peter, we read “Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you.” Well, if I’m asked to give an accounting of my hope I’ll be sure to mention the remarkable and faithful children and youth of this parish. What wonderful testimonies of faith we just heard from our graduating high school seniors – their witness ought to bolster our hope for what God is doing in and through their lives and this community of faith which we call St. Luke’s. So, thank you, Nellie, Ruth, and Jason for giving us hope, and know that St. Luke’s is always home to you and that this, your family, is always proud of you.

May 7, 2017 - Easter 4A

Lectionary Readings

In the name of the Crucified and Risen Lord. Amen.

            Context always matters. When you only know part of a story, it can be easy to overlook its significance. There’s a story from the great Sufi master, Mullah Nasrudin. One evening he was out in the street on his hands and knees searching for something. A man comes along and asks “What are you looking for?” The Mullah responds “I lost my house key.” So the man joins him in search for it, but with no luck. The man asks “Are you sure you lost it around here?” And Mullah Nasrudin replies “Oh, no, I lost it a few streets over.” “Then why are you wasting my time by searching for it here?” the man wants to know. Nasrudin replies, “Oh, well, the light is so much better over here.”

May 15, 2016 - Pentecost C

Lectionary Readings

Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, and lighten us with thy celestial fire. Amen.

            Have you ever learned about the origin of something that had previously been unknown to you? Perhaps you learned that the cordless handheld vacuum was not invented to make household chores easier, but was made by NASA to extract samples from the moon’s surface. Or you learned that when Caesar used to conquer a people, he would announce his victory with a decree known as an euangelion, a word we today translate as “gospel.” And when we learn more about the origin of these things, they give us a deeper understanding of how they work and function. Pentecost is one of things that has a foundation that is often not known.

May 1, 2016 - Easter 6C

Lectionary Readings (John 14 option as gospel text)

In the name of the Risen Lord. Amen.

            What is peace? That’s a question that I asked on Facebook this week and I received a number of responses: quiet, being in nature, time with family, painting, music, reading, gardening, and, of course, ice cream. Peace is one of those words that we throw around without ever stopping to consider its meaning. I find it fascinating, and telling, that no one answered that peace is the cessation of hostility, nor did anyone respond with an understanding of peace that is rooted in possessions, prestige, or wealth. And yet, it seems that our lives are all built around the pursuit of material things, winning, and earning money. The things that we innately know are the most life-giving and important to us are the very things that we sacrifice to chase after the idols of money and materiality.

May 24, 2015 - Pentecost B

Lectionary Readings

Descend, O Spirit, purging flame and brand us with Jesus’ name. Confirm our faith, consume our doubt; sign us as Christ’s within, without. Amen.

There’s a story of a parish secretary who wrote all of the priest’s sermons, but never got any of the credit for doing so. Finally, she could stand it no longer, so on Sunday when the priest was in the pulpit he said “and this is the most important thing to understand, it is an example of the most complex feature of the human condition as expressed by the great fourth century theologian…” The priest turned the page and saw a blank sheet of paper marked only with the words “You’re on your own now.” Last Sunday, our Collect prayed, in part, “Do not leave us comfortless, but send us your Holy Spirit.”

May 10, 2015 - Easter 6B

Lectionary Readings

In the name of the Risen Lord. Amen.

Have you ever been at a social gathering where you walked up to a group of people having a conversation in which you had no clue what was happening? That’s what today’s reading from Acts feels like. The whole of chapter 10 of Acts is, I think, one of the most compelling and informative passages in the entire New Testament, but it’s hard to understand in isolation. So before we dive into the text and consider what the Holy Spirit is saying to us today through it, let’s review the tenth chapter of Acts.

June 8, 2014 - Pentecost A

Lectionary Readings

Descend, O Spirit, purging flame, brand us this day with Jesus’ name! Confirm our faith, consume our doubt; sign us as Christ’s within, without. Amen.

            One theologian said, “It is not that the Church has a mission to fulfill; but rather that God’s mission has a Church.” Too often though, we reverse it and obsess about finding our mission. Our Prayer Book states that “The mission of the Church is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ.” I think that pretty well covers it. You might point to some passages from the Bible or quote Augustine or CS Lewis to further explain what the mission of the Church is. But however you explain it, the “what” of mission really isn’t that hard to figure out, it is the “how” that leaves us searching for answers.

December 22, 2013 - Advent 4A

Lectionary Readings

O come, O come Emmanuel. Amen.

            Here we are, the fourth Sunday of Advent; Christmas Eve is just around the corner. In the previous weeks we’ve considering the Second Coming in terms of kairos and chronos time, and we’ve pondering the question “what are you waiting for?” Now we’re at the doorstep to Christmas and finally we get a reading about this baby who is the focus of the Christmas season. It’s an absolutely fascinating story. Mary and Joseph were engaged, but somehow Mary ended up pregnant. And I’m sure that Joseph had a few questions about how that happened.

April 28, 2013 - Easter 5C

In the name of the Risen Lord. Amen.

            Evangelism. It’s a word that makes us rather uncomfortable, doesn’t it? If I tell you that we’ll be forming a group to foster the work of evangelism at St. Francis and in our community, you’d get more uncomfortable than you do when I preach about money and stewardship. We hear the word evangelism and we think of a theology that is often deficient, harmful, and hypocritical. Evangelism reminds us of shady televangelists, colonialism, and closing the blinds and hiding behind the sofa when you see the young men wearing white shirts and black ties walking down your driveway. I had a conversation a few months ago with someone about evangelism and while they understood the need for it, they suggested that perhaps we find a different word to use, perhaps something less uncomfortable and politically charged.

            But the message this morning is that evangelism is our calling, and it is time for us to reclaim that word and the values that go along with it. Throughout this sermon, we’ll consider how evangelism is misunderstood, and how we might better understand it, and therefore be able to claim our evangelical calling. And unless you’re reading this on my blog, you can’t tell that the word evangelical in this sermon has a lower case “e;” I am not speaking about what the media would consider being an upper-case Evangelical Christian, but rather, our calling to follow Jesus and share the Good News. In fact, that’s all that evangelism means; in Greek, it means “good message.”

            Evangelism is not about conversion, it is not about saving souls, it is not about bringing in more young families to the church, it is not done as a duty, or as a means of obtaining cheap grace in which we are made right with God so that we can then live however we see fit. Instead, evangelism is about hearing the narrative of God, proclaiming your role in God’s ever unfolding drama, and listening to the story of others.

            Our scriptural lens this morning is the reading from Acts. This is one of most compelling and powerful stories in all of Bible. Peter is in Joppa, near modern day Tel Aviv, and is being criticized for his ministry and eating with non-Jewish members of the Way, people whom we would call Christians. His critics saw Jesus as the Jewish Messiah, of the Jews, for the Jews, and by the Jews. They were suspicious of outsiders joining the Way. And so Peter begins to pray and has a vision of a sheet coming down from heaven, and on that sheet where non-kosher animals and he was told to “kill and eat.” Immediately, he says “no!” Perhaps he thought this was a test. Peter was a good Jew, and keeping dietary laws was important to him. This was non-negotiable for him. In Bible, things happen three times to Peter, so it happens two more times. And then he gets it and he relays the message “what God has made clean, you must not call profane.” They all understand that the Way was open to everyone, as the Holy Spirit descends upon and fills us all.

            This was an extremely radical move for the early followers of Jesus. They went from being a small group of followers, to a worldwide movement without borders. No voter identification cards required; all are welcome to participate in following Jesus. They thought they understood their mission, they thought the story of God was the story of Israel, but they now saw that the story of God was about all of Creation.

            And in this movement, the real need for evangelism emerged. The Gospel was now being proclaimed to people who perhaps were unfamiliar with the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. People who had never seen the Temple in Jerusalem were now invited to be baptized into the Body of Christ. And so the story of God needed to be told. And as the Holy Spirit descended upon them, they claimed their rightful role in the story of God as main characters. And the same is true for us. We are all characters in God’s unfolding drama. There are no extras in this drama, we all have important roles, we are all lead characters with speaking lines. We might do some work behind the scenes from time to time, but the spotlight is on us. And right now, our world needs to see more Christians thriving in that spotlight instead of fumbling through their lines so miserably.

            The first thing that we see in Acts is that God’s Spirit blows in new and unexpected ways, and the Spirit moves in a way that touches us all. In Revelation today, the one seated on the throne says “see, I am making all things new.” There is a constant Creation going on. The Spirit continues to move and continues to demolish boundaries that we have set up. The work of evangelism is paying attention to what new things God is doing in our lives, and linking that movement of the Spirit with God’s larger story for all of Creation.

            And the second lesson from Acts is that there is no one who is outside. The Gospel is for the whole world. In our reading from John, Jesus tells the disciples in his farewell dialogue that “just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” He reminds them of the love that he has showed towards them, and tells them that one day soon, he won’t be around to show them that love, so it will be imperative that they keep his love alive amongst each other. And this is part of evangelism as well, loving each other. And if you love someone, you will want to know about their story, and you will share your story with them.

            What all of these lessons this morning point towards is the fact that God is moving in the lives of others. Evangelism is about trusting that truth. God’s Spirit moves in everyone; God is doing a new thing through us all; God loves us all. And much of the fear and trepidation around evangelism is alleviated if we can trust that.

            Evangelism is not about taking God to new frontiers, as God is already there. Doing the work of evangelism isn’t about telling people something that they don’t already know; it is, rather simply, helping people to be aware of those things that they have felt. If we truly believe that each person is created by God, that each person is loved by God, that God longs for all of Creation to be in harmony, that God’s Spirit moves among us all, then evangelism is helping people to recognize and name that. Evangelism though becomes scary when our trust waivers, when we lose sight of the fact that God is already moving in their life, when we forget just how good the Good News is.

            And our world needs more Good News right now. But let me suggest that evangelism is about you and me, and not about the propping up of the institutions of religion. The religious landscape of our culture is changing. And many people are meeting this change with fear and denial. Some people are proclaiming that we’ve simply lost our way and need to get back to affirming things such as the Virgin Birth and bodily Resurrection as simple fixes to declining church attendance. Others will say that we need to transform ourselves to meet the needs of the culture, so more and more coffee shop style churches are popping up. When I was on paternity leave, I visited one of these hip, young churches and let me tell you, it was the most self-serving and shallow attempt at worship that I’ve ever seen. I won’t go into it now, we can talk more about that later if you want to hear more. But there are “experts” everywhere trying to diagnose the problems of the Church and recommend remedies.

            Evangelism, understood properly, though reminds us that we already have everything we need. We have God’s story, as told through Scripture and the lives of faithful people throughout the generation. And if we spend some serious time in prayer and reflection, we can be aware of our own role in God’s story. And if we trust that God isn’t just moving in our lives, but in the lives of our neighbors, and family, and coworkers, then we can share our story with them. And not just share our story, but perhaps more importantly, listen to their story.

            What evangelism so often gets wrong is that people assume that evangelism is about telling their story more than it is about listening to the story of the other person. If evangelism is about God’s story, we should be yearning to learn more about God. Earlier this month, there was a great anniversary that sadly wasn’t as widely celebrated as it should have been. April 16^th was the 50^th anniversary of Martin Luther King, Jr. writing The Letter from Birmingham Jail. It is one of the most powerful pieces of Christian witness ever written, and part of what I enjoy so much about that letter is that it gives a very powerful insight into the story of God in the life of Martin Luther King. And if you ask me, it is worthy of being called scripture, right along with St. Paul’s letter to the Romans, Corinthians, or Ephesians.

            Earlier this week, one of our parishioners, Ryan Mails, met with Bishop Curry about his discerning a call to ordained ministry. And as I worked with Ryan on the initial stages of the discernment process, what I loved the most was hearing about how God was moving in his life. And in hearing Ryan’s story, I learned more about my own. When I learned how God moves in Ryan’s life, I couldn’t help but wonder, “what if God moves in my life in the same way and I just wasn’t paying attention to it?”

            There is no one size fits all story out there. CS Lewis, speaking about evangelism, said “it is right to be concerned about the salvation of our loved ones, but we should not demand or expect that their salvation should conform to some readymade pattern of our own.” Remember, God does new things. When we listen in evangelism, we learn not only more about God, but we learn about how God might also be moving in our own lives.

            Evangelism is also about finding ways to take bold steps, knowing that there are no boundaries to God’s Spirit, to show people that they are a part of God’s story. One of our parishioners recently told me a wonderful story about their efforts in evangelism. She was at an urgent-care clinic on Good Friday, and a man came up to the window, upset that they wouldn’t take his out of state insurance. And he’s particularly upset that the billing department was closed that day. Neither he, nor the receptionist, knew what holiday it was that caused the billing department to be closed. And so he sat down. And this parishioner asked him “May I tell you about Good Friday?” And he agreed. So she told him the story of Good Friday. And after she told him about the crucifixion, he shouted “what’s so good about that?” But she continued to tell him the rest of the Easter story and he concluded “well, that is good then, isn’t it.” Now this parishioner is self-admittedly, not the person you’d expect this story to be about, and said that evangelism is far outside her comfort zone. But she said to me “all I can do is listen, share what God can do, and share what God has done in my life.” Amen. I couldn’t say it any better myself.

            Evangelism can be a challenge, especially for those of us who were trained to not discuss religion or politics in public, for those of us who are introverts, or don’t particularly enjoy talking about deeply personal matters with strangers or mere acquaintances. Evangelism though becomes possible and powerful when we trust two things, first that God is already moving in their life; and secondly, that what we have to share is indeed Good News, news so good that it would be selfish to keep it ourselves, news so good that it compels us to share it, news so full of gratitude and wonder that it drive us to be evangelical.

            And I hope that you can see that this isn’t about filling pews. A bishop recently remarked that “when church people start talking about putting people in pews [or bringing in new families] they are speaking the language of decline. If our focus is to receive the life God has given to us, and live that transformed life, then the question of evangelism will take care of itself.” It’s really a question of going to church versus being the church. When you go to church, you come to receive religious goods and services, you come to be fed, you get your needs met through programs, and you expect trained professionals to lead you. But when instead we trust that God is moving in our lives, we can instead focus on being the Church. And when we are the Church, we are people on a mission, we gather to worship, not be fed. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people say “I didn’t get anything out of that service;” my response is “good, you weren’t supposed to get anything about it. Worship is about God, not you.” But if we view church through the lens of a consumer, we expect to get something out of our investment. Instead though, when we are the church, we learn out to feed ourselves through the Word of God, proclaimed during worship, and through the community that gathers.

            Evangelism simply doesn’t work if we’re just trying to get people to come to church. Membership campaigns don’t work, and are quite frankly counter-productive to genuine discipleship. This sort of evangelism forces to focus on having strong Sunday School programs, lovely music, and a pretty campus not for the glory of God, but to make ourselves appear attractive to others. It’s a false evangelism, it tells the story of us instead of the story of God.

            Instead, evangelism is vibrant when we focus on being the Church. When we plant our roots deep within God’s story and then spend enough time in prayer to clearly articulate how we, both as individuals and a community, are living as a part of God’s story, then we are living as the Church. People these days aren’t looking to join something else- we’re already busy with associations such as homeowner’s boards, civic groups, scouts, PTAs at school, we really don’t need add just another membership to lists. But studies and surveys consistently show that we, as a people, are deeply hungry to belong and to have meaning.

            And our belonging is found in the story of God and our meaning is found in being the Body of Christ. You have a story that I want to hear. You have a story of God moving in your life that our world needs to hear. I’ve said enough in this sermon, so I won’t share my story now, but perhaps we can listen to God’s Spirit speaking through us over a cup of coffee sometime. As the refrain from our Psalm this morning say, “praise the Lord.” In the coming weeks and months, I’ll be gathering a group of parishioners to consider evangelism more deeply at St. Francis. We’ll meet to discuss how we might better know God’s story, how we might encourage deep listening with others, and how we might be able to articulate and boldly proclaim our place in God’s story. And it is my desire that this group will facilitate the work of evangelism throughout our parish, and into our lives, our homes, and our city. It is my prayer that in owning our stories as part of God’s, that we might be the Church in a world that deeply needs more sharing of Good News.

            The book of Acts is the story of evangelism. It tells the story of God’s Spirit leading followers of the Way into new truths. And the acts of the faithful aren’t confined to the book of Acts; your action is part of the story. We see that there are no boundaries to God’s grace and love. The work of evangelism is to trust that this same Spirit is working in the lives of everyone whom we encounter, and then sharing with them our Good News and listening to theirs. Might we heed the words of the great hymn – “tell out, my soul, the greatness of the Lord!”

March 17, 2013 - Lent 5C

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

“I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” Those are the words of the prophet Isaiah to Israel in Exile in the 6^th century BC. Remember from your Bible classes, Jerusalem has been sacked and the ruling elite of Israel had been exiled to Babylonia. Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann defines exile as “the loss of the known world.” Everything that they knew was gone- their careers, their homes, family members, and the sacred Temple in Jerusalem. It even seemed as if God was absent, because the Babylonians practiced polytheism, being led by the god Marduk. And the way that the Babylonians worshiped was by participating in rituals which reenacted stories about their gods. Their worship focused on the same, old stories.

And so the God of Israel tells Isaiah to be looking for a new thing, in contrast to the old reenactments of the Babylonian gods. The God of Israel is not stagnant, and is not a statue to be worshipped, but instead is a living God who will act to save the people. It is a truly inspiring message of hope- “I am about to do a new thing.” And God did, as eventually they would return home to Israel and build a new Temple. And though Isaiah wrote to a different audience in a different time, the question is still a good one. God is doing a new thing; do you perceive it?

As Jesus says in the chapter following what we heard today- “When the Spirit of truth comes, it will guide you into all the truth.” Or as we read in Revelation, the one sitting on the throne says “See, I am making all things new.” One of my favorite prayers comes from the Ordination service and in part, it prays “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 by him through whom all things were made.” The question before us this morning is “do you perceive it?”

Today is the feast day of St. Patrick of Ireland. He was born in 390 to a Christian family on the British mainland, and at age 16 he was captured and sold into slavery as a shepherd in Ireland. Five years later he escaped and returned to Britain. Patrick was then ordained as a priest, and later a bishop. Then, in roughly 431, he was called to return to Ireland as a missionary, some say in a vision and others say by the Pope. Tradition says that he landed not far from where he served as slave. And he did grand missionary work there. I think what allowed St. Patrick to do this was his firm belief that God was doing a new thing.

Returning the place of his capture, perhaps even running into his former masters, was no easy task. He knew all about the Irish, and probably regarded them as brutal savages for what they did to him. And yet, he was open to God and perceived that God would be able to do a new thing through him.

This ability to see the new things that God is doing in our lives is a helpful lens as we approach this well-known story about Jesus, Mary, and Judas found in the Gospel according to John. The first thing that needs to be pointed out is that the Passion in John differs from the other gospel accounts. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Judas hands Jesus over to the authorities, betraying him. That event never happens in John. In John, Jesus remains in power throughout the entire Passion narrative and he turns himself in. So Judas is not the one who betrayed Jesus. When John refers to Judas as “the one who would betray Jesus,” he is not speaking of handing him over, but instead of being blind to what new thing Jesus is doing. In John, discipleship is measured against the measuring stick of faith; and Judas doesn’t quite measure up, so that is his betrayal- not handing Jesus over, but giving up on him.

And with this attitude of giving up on Jesus, Judas closes himself off to the grace of God that unfolds before him. Mary though saw something new and holy in this encounter with Jesus. I know it seems like a somewhat odd story- wiping someone’s feet with oil and your own hair. But the Bible is from another culture, so her actions don’t shock us as much as they should. What Mary did was absolutely unacceptable and scandalous in her culture.

A man having his feet washed by a woman was a rather intimate act; certainly it would have raised a few eyebrows. Furthermore, the perfume that was used wasn’t some cheap stuff. It was worth 300 denarii, or roughly the yearly income for the average worker. It was simply too much, it was over the top, it was silly.

And we must consider why Mary just so happened to have so much perfume on hand. It was likely the very same perfume that they had planned to use to anoint her brother Lazarus, who had died, but was now sitting at the table eating with them after Jesus had miraculously brought him back to life.

And this too was a scandalous event- the raising of a dead man. In fact, right after word of it gets to the Pharisees the Bible says that it was such as scandal that “from that day on they planned to put him to death.” And when Mary uses that perfume on Jesus, it reminds everyone of the scandals that always seem to follow Jesus.

And then Mary untied her hair and let it down to dry Jesus’ feet. That simply isn’t done. No self-respecting woman, let alone a host, would do such a thing. In all of her actions with Jesus, she does too much, she goes over the top; there is an abundance of scandal. And part of the reason for her abundant grace and love offered to Jesus is in return for the abundant power and glory that Jesus has shown them by bringing her brother back to life. It is a response to the abundance that Jesus showed in feeding of the 5,000. And it is a foreshadowing of the abundant love with which Jesus will give himself up on the cross.

Mary knew that there was an abundance of God present with her, and so she responded in a fitting, but scandalous way. She perceived that something new was happening in their midst, and it needed to be addressed; it needed to be adored. There are two competing theologies out there. On one hand we have the theology of scarcity, and it says things like “there just isn’t enough time to get it all done,” “if I just had a little more money,” “what I really need more of.” In the theology of scarcity, the world is a place of supply and demand where we have to compete to get to the top. But there is another way, the theology of abundance which calls us to realize that we will be given our daily bread, that God will provide, that there is enough love to heal our world. Judas clearly operates out of a theology of scarcity because he doesn’t realize that there is an endless supply of love and grace in this world. Mary though has a theology of abundance and knows that because God does new things, that there will always be enough. So she is free to act and shows great grace in her action. Do you operate out of a theology of scarcity or of abundance?

And much in the same way that we’ll read next Sunday during the Palm Sunday procession, people who witness this scandalous abundance want it to stop. Next week, during the parade into Jerusalem, the Pharisees will tell Jesus to stop his disciples from making such a commotion and he responds by saying “if they were silent, the stones would shout out.” In today’s story, Mary is the stone that is shouting out, though Judas tries to stop her.

To Judas, what Mary does is unreasonable. This show of abundance is just too wasteful to tolerate. Such a demonstrative act is making him too uncomfortable to stand it. And so to end this travesty, he refutes Mary and suggests that instead, this costly perfume should have been sold and the money given the poor. Now I know that the text says that he was doing this out of his selfish desire to steal from the common purse, but that is very likely a later addition to the text. John doesn’t know what Judas was thinking when he said that, nor do we, so we would do well not to go down that rabbit hole. Judas is responding not out of greed, but out of an inability to see that God was doing a new thing right in front of his eyes.

Jesus responds by supporting Mary, noting that his Passion is quickly approaching and it is fitting that his body be prepared for burial. And then he says “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” The misinterpretation of that one line has done a lot of harm over the years. It has led to a laissez faire attitude towards the poor, a defeatist and hopeless attitude towards solving poverty, and has given too many people a clean conscience when they turn a blind eye to those in need.

In his response, Jesus was alluding to Deuteronomy 15:11 which says “Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.’” Everyone in the room would have known exactly what Jesus was talking about; he didn’t finish the sentence because everyone knew what follows. Jesus is not saying that the poor will always be with us, so don’t worry about it. He is saying that the poor will always be with us because we are selfish, and therefore we will always have the need to open our hand to the poor.

Theologian Stanley Hauerwas remarked that the poor that we always have with us is Jesus, who always identified with the poor, and himself was poor. The Rev. Dr. Colin Miller lives and works at the Community of the Franciscan Way in Durham, North Carolina. And he reminds us to thank God for the poor. It is often assumed that those with money are the patrons to the poor, giving them what they need. But he invites us to consider that perhaps the poor are patrons to those of us who have means. Without the poor, he wonders, who would call us out of ourselves, with whom would we share our treasure, where would we find the salvation of our souls without the poor to serve? Instead of us serving the poor, what if the poor serve us by allowing us to meet Christ and calling us to focus on giving more than receiving. This is a new way of thinking.

Poverty is certainly an old problem, and for too long we have treated it that way. We have forgotten that indeed, God can do a new thing, even with poverty. But we are going in the wrong direction. In 2012, the top 100 billionaires in the world added $240 billion dollars to their wealth (source), which would have been enough to eliminate poverty four times over. There is a video circulating the internet right now that shows the story of wealth and poverty with images (video). The takeaway message of the video is that Americans’ perception of the gap between the poor and the wealthy is nowhere near reality. Over 90% of Americans admit that the gap is wider than it should be, but the reality is that the gap is much larger than anyone realizes.

The Roman Catholic social worker Peter Maurin wrote a poem called “Better and Better Off,” saying: 

The world would be better off, if people tried to become better. And people would become better if they stopped trying to be better off. For when everybody tries to become better off, nobody is better off. But when everybody tries to become better, everybody is better off. Everybody would be rich if nobody tried to be richer. And nobody would be poor if everybody tried to be the poorest. And everybody would be what they ought to be if everybody tried to be what they want the other person to be.

Poverty is not an impossible problem to solve, but it will take a new approach. It will take getting away from the ideas that “you get what you deserve,” or that the poor receive “handouts” from the rich instead of what they are entitled to as human beings who bear the image of God. We must remember that we will be judged not on the efficacy of our prayers or worship, but on how we treat the least of these. We must recall that grace is unearned and free. And most importantly, we have to open ourselves to the moving of God’s Spirit that is doing a new thing.

In our debates about debt ceilings, sequestrations, budgets, welfare programs- what if we thought in new ways? What if we realized that uncontrolled and ever expanding debt is doing no one a favor? What if we realized that a balanced budget is just an idol, and one that shouldn’t be put on the backs of those most in need? What if in our tax discussions we remembered that Jesus said “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required?” What if we acted as if we are all called to work for our mutual welfare? What if we remembered that despite our fears and greed, that God operates out of a theology of abundance? What if we tore down the old systems of oppression and injustice and rededicated ourselves to a new vision of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for all? What if we could find the strength and courage to open our eyes and see that God is doing a new thing? What if we sought first the Kingdom of God instead of the kingdoms of power, prestige, wealth, political party, or philosophical ideology?

If we could, I think we’d encounter an extravagant and abundant life. We might then discover the truth of Jesus’ words that he “came that we might have life, and have it abundantly.” We might find more Marys in our midst instead of so many Judases. Now I realize that this is a scandalous message. As the great preacher Peter Gomes once said, “the Good News to some will almost inevitably be bad news to others.”

This encounter between Jesus, Mary, and Judas is a story of new possibilities and abundant love and grace. Mary was open to it, and Judas was stuck in what was comfortable and familiar. This story is a foreshadowing of what we will find in a week on Palm Sunday. God comes offering abundant joy, love, and redemption, especially to the poor. Jesus upsets the oppressive structures of the day with his scandalous Gospel of extravagant abundance. It happened with Judas, and it will happen with the Pharisees. His good news was indeed bad news to those who were being challenged in their old and complacent ways, and he will be killed for it. Our hope next Sunday is the same as our hope this Sunday- that no amount of blindness or fear can stop the abundant love of God from gracing our lives. God is doing a new thing, can you perceive it? 

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.

May 6, 2012 - Easter 5B

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

            Do you ever get that sneaky suspicion that things aren’t how they should be? That somehow the Kingdom of God isn’t coming on earth as it is in heaven? That somehow we’re disconnected from what is true, what is genuine, what is worthy of connection? Well, I do. Those of you who are participating in the Diocesan-wide book study using Diana Butler Bass’ book Christianity After Religion are likely getting a sense of this disconnection. There are many who are disconnected with the Church because they sense a disconnect between the institution and God. There are others who label themselves as spiritual but not religious, embodying this disconnect in their own self-identity. Religious institutions now have approval ratings around those of Wall Street and major corporations. And because of this trend, many people are disconnecting from the Church. Many complain of the disconnect between politicians and their constituents, as evidenced by Congress’ 14% approval rating. We see this lack of connection manifest in a plethora of lawsuits, a near 50% divorce rate, and in tensions around the world.

As we see in our reading from Acts, there is also a disconnect between religion and our understanding of it. The eunuch in this story represents many of us. We read things in the Bible, or we hear sermons, or we read a book about theology, and we’re left scratching our heads, wondering- “what does this mean?” Philip asks, “do you understand what you are reading?” And the eunuch responds “how can I, unless someone guides me?” Here, we see the importance of connection. We bring others to faith by guiding them. As much as we wish it would, faith does not spread by osmosis; faith is not something you “catch.” Faith, instead, is something we work at, and we’re never done with it.

We have become disconnected from our story, from the story of God that continues to unfold in each generation. Poll after poll reveals that the average Christian American cannot come even close to passing a religious literacy test. Now, that isn’t to say religion is about knowing facts, but if we don’t know the story, then it’s awfully hard to take part in it. There are lots of reasons for this disconnection. We’re busy, we think people who are overly religious are a bit crazy, we’ve learned that religion is something we do in private; whatever the reason, we’ve lost touch with God. Simply put, we are disconnected from God and from each other.

So how do we reconnect? How do we get back in touch with God and with others? The answer is our readings from today. When you read through this portion of the 1^st epistle of John and the 15^th chapter of the Gospel according to John, two words should jump out at you. The first is “abide,” which shows up 14 times in these 23 verses; the other word is “love”, showing up 14 times as well. “Abide” comes from the Greek meno, but it means more than that- it’s more of “exist in” or “dwell in”. And “love” is agape, which is the highest of the all the words for love, representing God’s love for Creation. Jesus uses the parables of the vine and the branches to drive the point home.

The only way that the branches, that is us, survive is by being connected to the vine, that is Jesus. Abide isn’t a very common word. No hotel signs say “abide here tonight,” nor do baseball announcers say “bottom of the 9^th with a runner abiding on second base.” We don’t abide much in our culture. We move from place to place for work, we upgrade appliances all the time, we even change friends rather fluently. Not much abides in our world. Abiding is planting your roots. A preacher I knew once said that if the world is about hanging on, then abiding is about hanging in. When you hang onto to something, it’s often something you should let go of, and something you wouldn’t mind losing. But when you hang in, you are committed to staying the course.

And so Jesus tells his followers to abide in him, to remain forever in him, to be rooted in him. If you’ve ever been to a vineyard, upon looking a vine, it’s easy to tell that the braches would be no where without the vine. When people, churches, communities disconnect from the vine, they wither up and die. When we hang-on to ideas about Jesus, we die; but when we hang in with Jesus, we thrive. As funny as it seems, many Christians have become disconnected with Jesus.

It’s even there in the name, we call ourselves Christians, not disciples of Jesus. Somehow, Christ is easier than Jesus- because Christ is about the savior and the glory. But Jesus was a rebel-rouser, he hung out with tax collectors and prostitutes, he talked about the poor and sought to turn this world upside down. Jesus was crucified, and calls his follows to take up their crosses. Bishop Curry often remarks that when he came to this Diocese and starting using the name “Jesus” in writings and sermons, people talked about this new bishop who “talked about Jesus all the time” like there was something wrong with that. We’ve become afraid of then name of Jesus- what would people think of us if they heard us saying his name?

If we follow Jesus, we think people will hear us say Jaay-suz. Jesus has been kidnapped by the religious right, by those who put words in his mouth. And lest we be counted as one of them, we’ve stopped abiding in him. Instead, we focus on social justice, on outreach, on God without Jesus. We have a disconnect with Jesus. But Jesus makes it very clear, the only way to life, is to abide in him.

And the focus of this abiding is in love. The writers of these texts knew that the one thing that could be trusted was the love of God, and that was the one thing worth emulating. Earlier in this sermon I referred to studies that point to declines in Church attendance and religiosity. But what is interesting is that that these same studies point towards a deep hunger in people’s lives for spirituality. Part of the reason why people are so disillusioned with the Church is that they came to it with such high hopes and dreams. They wanted to find a place where they could abide, a place where the fruit of love thrived.

These readings show that we are supposed to abide in Jesus, and in his love. That is the way we thrive and bear fruit. When I was in Israel, I experienced a profound sense of affirmation of my work as a priest, but more than that, as a Christian. I saw that the world needs more people like Jesus. I was blessed while I was there to meet some very faithful Christian leaders, who strive their best to daily model the love of Jesus. Think about what your family, our church, Greensboro, the United States, the world would look like if every day, people who call themselves Christians tried to live as Jesus did. What if we found a way to put aside our differences and abided in love. What if churches could refocus on abiding in Jesus instead of fighting over him? In fact, the roots of the word “religion” mean to “re-connect.” What if religion was more about reconnecting God to humanity?

What if we were more like Jesus? What if we took the time to help each other carry crosses, what if we washed each other’s feet, what if we reached out to the poor and oppressed, what if we everything we did was done, first and foremost, out of love?

And the beauty of this is that each branch that is connected to the vine is important. Each act of love changes the world. I know that in my life, I am always profoundly moved when someone acts out of a deep sense of love towards me. I am always inspired when I see someone who is clearly abiding in Jesus.

There is a story I once heard about a group of soldiers who were friends in World War II France. One of their colleagues died, and they carried him to a church they saw in the distance, so that he might have a proper burial. The priest greeted them and consoled them, but he told them that according to Catholic law, only Catholics could be buried in the cemetery there. But he agreed to bury their friend just outside the fence of the Catholic cemetery. Several years later, after the war, this group of friends journeyed back to that small country church to pay their respects to their fallen friend. When they arrived, they walked around the perimeter of the fence to find the gravesite. But when they found no tomb marker, they stormed into the church, enraged that the priest had not properly buried their friend as he had promised. The priest explained to them, “before I buried your friend, I scoured all the books of doctrine I could find to see if I could somehow bury him in the cemetery, but I could find no such provision. However, I found no rules against extending the fence after I buried your friend.” This is abiding in God’s love which has no boundaries.

This wonderful story leads me into something that I must say this morning. There is a passage in Luke that happens on Palm Sunday. As Jesus enters Jerusalem, the Pharisees tell Jesus to make his disciples be quiet, as they are causing a scene. Jesus responds by saying “if they were silent, the stones would cry out.” The issue at hand is Amendment 1, and indeed, the cry for justice needs to be heard.

Before I get going on this topic, I realize that this is a sensitive topic, and I realize and respect that we will not agree on every aspect, but that does not mean that we should be silent. I also want to make it clear that I am speaking not about politics, but about abiding in love and justice. I am not telling you how to vote; I do not condemn anyone for voting differently than me, nor do I speak for St. Francis Church or any other institution, but rather I speak as a disciple of Jesus.

I will be voting against Amendment 1 on Tuesday for several reasons. I take this encounter between the Ethiopian eunuch and the deacon Philip very seriously. After having the Scriptures explained, the eunuch sees a body of water and boldly asks “what is to prevent me from being baptized.” He very well knows the answer- a lot. He is black, he is a eunuch, meaning, in the language of Deuteronomy, that he was unclean because he had undergone genital mutilation, and he was a foreigner. But you know how Philip responds? He says “nothing is preventing you from abiding in Jesus or experiencing the love of God” and he baptizes him.

So the same-sex couple comes to sanctify their love before God and get the same legal benefits that any other married couple gets asks “what is to prevent us from being married?” I hope and pray that the answer is not “Amendment 1.” If we’ve learned one thing in the country, it is that legislating discrimination, even for religious reasons is never a good idea. One hundred years ago, women could not vote because of a law. Just 40 years ago in the church, women could not be ordained because of a rule. Hundreds of thousands of lives were lost on plantations and in the Civil War because our Constitution said that blacks were only 3/5 of a person. In Nazi Germany, we saw the dangers of saying that the ideal person should look a certain way.

Perhaps though the most compelling reason to vote against this amendment is, to use Jesus’ metaphor- we don’t know where the vine will grow in the future. We are branches, and we are only part of the plant, not the whole thing. Passing this amendment would close the door to the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit has guided the Church to see things in a new light. The first followers of Jesus wanted to exclude all Gentiles from the Church, and we’ve excluded people from full life on the vine ever since then, on the basis of gender, nationality, race, education, economic class, theological beliefs, and now we’re prepared to do it again based on sexual orientation. And if history is any guide, some generation down the road will apologize for us, will overturn laws, and wonder how it was that we called ourselves Christians and did not abide in God’s love. Love has no qualifications, no boundaries, no fences, no limits, and we do not need to act or legislate it as if it does. The love between people need not be limited; nor should our love of them, or rather our lack thereof, places limits upon them.

There is a major justice issue with this law, as people on both sides of the aisle recognize that this is a poorly written amendment which will have many unintended consequences. Marriage between same-sex couples is already outlawed in North Carolina, which is unfortunate enough. But we do not need to pass a law that would harm children, elderly unmarried couples, and victims of domestic violence by dissolving all relationships other than marriage between one man and one woman. This amendment is more about justice than marriage. In our baptismal vows, we promise to “strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.” This amendment would do a lot of injustice to all kinds of people, and I do not know how I can honor my baptismal vows and support this amendment, because it is not about abiding in Jesus or his love. We do not need to speak for future generations, we do not need to cut off the Holy Spirit from moving in our hearts and minds. We do not need to cut others off from the vine of God’s love. What is to prevent me from abiding in Jesus the true vine? I pray that no one answers, “the close-mindedness of the church,” or “the hypocrisy of those who follow Jesus but don’t share his love.”

This amendment will be decided though not based on justice, not even on the will of the people, but rather by the small handful of people who go out of vote in the primary. This amendment could very well pass if those who wish to stand up for justice do not take the time to stand up at the polls and vote. So I urge us all, as people of faith, as people who stand up for the oppressed, as people who take part in the welfare and governance of our land, to vote, regardless of how you cast your ballot.

It all goes back to abiding. Our world is hungry to have its roots planted in something stable, something true, something life giving and affirming. For a variety of reasons, we’ve become disconnected from the true vine, which is Jesus. Today is a day to reconnect. Today is a day to reach out to those who have been cut off from the vine, to those who have been wounded by the branches, to those who want a connection, but aren’t sure how to graft themselves into the vine. We have the opportunity to change our world with each and every breath that we take. By choosing to abide in Jesus, to be rooted in his love, to follow his pattern, to love like he did, then we will bear much fruit in his name.

Amen.

January 8, 2012- Epiphany 1B

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

            The baptism of Jesus is a wonderful way for us to begin the season of Epiphany. It is the season of the Church that begins after the 12 days of Christmas. Epiphany comes from a Greek word which means “appearance” or “manifestation.” Epiphany has its roots in the appearance of the Christ-child to the wise men from the east who came to visit the Holy Family, as it celebrates the manifestation of God’s love, redemption, and presence in the person of Jesus of Nazareth.

            It’s also wonderful to be preaching on a Sunday on which we normally would have a baptism, but don’t. Typically when you preach on baptism Sunday there is a rule- keep it short and have one point. You’re often preaching to extended family members who are not familiar with the Episcopal tradition, or even the Church. And you have to contend with a crying baby. So it is nice to have this opportunity to more fully explore baptism, which is perhaps one of the least understood aspects of the Christian faith. What is baptism all about? I’ll get there, but first I want to explore perhaps the most important and most theologically challenging passage in the entire Bible.

            “You are my son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.” In our baptisms, the same is said of us as it was Jesus. God says to each of us- you are my son, you are my daughter, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Notice that in Mark, God says “you are my child,” not “this is my son.” God is speaking not just to Jesus, but to John the Baptist, to the crowd that was gathered that day watching the event, to you and to me.

            So in this baptism event there are two things that happen- the first is this acknowledgment from God, and the second is the gift of the Holy Spirit. Let’s explore this voice from heaven first. You are my son or daughter. This is the language of adoption. In the Hebrew custom, by naming a relationship, you consummated it. The marriage ritual was rather simple, the man would simply say “this is my wife,” and it was done. God is saying “you are my child,” and we are. The language of adoption is important. Under Roman law, a birth child could be disinherited, but an adopted child could not. Once the adoption took place, it was permanent. By using the language of adoption, God makes it clear that this is not a temporary relationship; God will not change God’s mind on this, you are God’s son, you are God’s daughter.

            What I love about this passage is where the voice comes from- the heavens. But notice how the voice comes. In Matthew, it says that the heavens were opened. So maybe the clouds moved apart and the voice came, rather boring. But in Mark, our translation reads “torn apart,” in Greek, it’s the word schizo, which is violent and strong. It’s not just that God parts the clouds to come to us and call us God’s son or daughter, God is ripping the heavens apart to get to us. It’s the image of a mother or father lifting a car to save their child. It’s messy, it’s raw, but nothing, not even the heavens, will hold God back from telling you that you are God’s child.

            Next, God names us as the beloved. In baptism, we are given our core definition: beloved. No matter what, our most basic name is beloved. And when I say that this passage makes the hardest theological statement in the Bible, this is what I’m referring to. People can struggle to understand the Incarnation, they’ll buy into the Virgin Birth because they believe in the power of God, they grapple with the Resurrection, they can’t figure out the Holy Spirit, but they trust in it. But how many of us believe that we are the beloved of God?

Now to be fair, most of us would acknowledge that God loves us. But how many of us put that at the top of the list. I’ll bet you my bottom dollar that if we all took out our business cards, none of them would say “beloved child of God” under our name. Henri Nouwen, in the book The Life of the Beloved writes about the trap of self-rejection which we all fall into. The world will call you a lot of things. You’re fat. You’re ugly. You’re worthless. You’re stupid. You’re lazy. Why can’t you get over your depression? Why can’t you just stop drinking? Why can’t you loosen up and be more outgoing? You’ve been outsourced. You’re dead to me. You’re a nerd. You’re unlovable. You’re selfish. And those are just the things that are rated PG. And we start to believe them. They start to take their toll.

The symptoms of this self-rejection are low self-esteem and arrogance. Either we define ourselves by these terms and are depressed, rejected, and always think that we could be better. Or, in a move of self-defense, we become arrogant. We start slinging the mud back at others, or we paint ourselves as pillars of virtue to make ourselves feel better. But the name that God gives us in much simpler- beloved.

Beloved doesn’t mean that you’re perfect, it doesn’t mean that you can’t improve yourself, it doesn’t mean that you stop working to better yourself and your world, it doesn’t condone poor decision making or sinfulness, but it does mean that, at your core, you are who you are supposed to be. You are complete, you are loved, you are sufficient as you are. You are loved, you don’t need to show proof in order to get this love, you don’t have to complete a task to earn the love, you are loved. And this is our end, our call, this is really all we need, to be beloved; that is our fulfillment. Making a big name for ourselves, building wealth- that’s all beside the point. You are the beloved. Scripture tells us that God watches over us, that God knows the number of hairs on our heads, that God knew us while we were in our mother’s wombs. You have always been loved, and you can’t be undeserving of this love; at your very core, you are loved.

But how many of us act as if that is true? Our economic system of capitalism is built on the premise that you aren’t complete and you need something to make you better. Make up, weight loss pills, or a fancy car would make you a better person and more attractive. If you just had more money your life would be better. If it was drilled into you from the time you were born that you were loved as is, how would you be a different person? If you tried to better yourself not to please your parents, not to impress your boss, not to position yourself for  a raise; but instead, what if you did what filled you and allowed you to live as a child of God, how might you make decisions differently?

In saying “with you I am well pleased” God is affirming us. God is saying “you are who you are supposed to be.” Again, this doesn’t make you perfect or give you permission to do anything you want to do, but you are pleasing to God. God is happy with having you as a son, as a daughter. I can’t say it enough because the voice from heaven is easily overshadowed by the voices of this world, but you are loved. Theologian Paul Tillich once said that “faith is the courage to accept acceptance.” And so it is. We live in a culture of self-help books, of always trying to be better, of never being good enough. Our culture is one that is built upon self-rejection and the monetization of catering to people with low self-esteem, and it does take courage to go against the grain and accept your acceptance, to accept the fact that you are the beloved child of God and with you God is well pleased. It’s the hardest theological statement in the Bible, but if we can believe it with every fiber of our being, and realize that it’s true for each person in this world, then our lives and our world can be truly transformed.

So that is the first part of Baptism, becoming the beloved of God. And secondly, in Baptism we are bestowed with the gift of the Holy Spirit, which is a mystery of sorts. I recently read a transcript of an dialogue between Christopher and Peter Hitchens. Christopher died recently and was the world-famous, militant atheist. Peter, his brother, is the former atheist turned Christian author. What struck me in reading the transcript was that 1) Christopher clearly didn’t know what he was talking about. It would be like someone who has never tasted wine before trying to explain away the complexity of a vintage Bordeaux or Borolo. And 2) Peter fell into the trap that so many academic Christians do; he didn’t embrace the mystery of God. Mystery is not simply something Christians claim to win arguments which they’d otherwise lose, rather mystery is the acknowledgment that we are finite and only get glimpses of the epiphany, not the whole thing.

The Holy Spirit is one of these mysteries of the faith. Poet William Blake once penned that “he who sees the infinite in all things, sees God.” Ever since the Enlightenment, Christianity has been reduced to superstition, at least from the view of reason and the academy. If you can’t prove it in a lab, then it’s not true, such as a mystery. This takes us back to the question I asked earlier, what is baptism all about anyway? Well, without mystery, it’s just a cultish ritual that has no impact on our lives. Most Episcopalians would say that baptism doesn’t determine whether you go to heaven or hell when you die. A lot of good people have never been baptized and a lot of evil people have.

I read a story about a man who worked at the Ford plant in Detroit. Back before machines made cars, the factory workers would often take tools home with them and would rarely bring them back. The practice was widespread and no one knew how to address it. This particular man was preparing for baptism and conversion to Christianity. As he was learning more and more about the faith, he began to feel guilty about the tools that he had taken, so he returned them to his supervisor, who was shocked that anyone would do that. So he told his boss and it went up the ladder and eventually Henry Ford received a cable about it while in Europe. He replied and said “dam up the Detroit River and baptize all of them.”

That is what Baptism is about, the mystery of conversion; the mystery of believing that you are loved and taking that as a call to live a life of loving others. It is the mystery of the cross and the mystery of the empty tomb. What if life isn’t about what we know and understand, but instead is about the mystery? I don’t pretend to be an astrophysicist, but I find the theory of dark matter to be fascinating. We all assume that our world is made up of atoms which we can observe and describe. But the theory of dark matter says that as much as 83% of the universe if made of dark matter, which is relatively unobservable and unknowable to us. If that doesn’t scream mystery and “you’ll never know it all,” I don’t know what does.

Take the mystery, the Holy Spirit, out of baptism and you’re left with an empty ritual or a really fast bath. Part of the mystery of baptism goes back to the point of being the beloved child of God. As the beloved, you are sanctified, you are adopted, you are given salvation, you are initiated into the Christian community, you are given the Holy Spirit. How does this happen? I don’t know, but I trust that it does; I know that it does.

I read an interesting Facebook status this past week. A friend of mine from seminary was writing about belief in God. He wrote “there are things in this world that make me believe in God. I'm not talking about the certain modes of thinking. I'm also not talking about seeing a beautiful sunset and thinking ‘how could someone not believe in God?’...No, I mean that there are things that, when they happen, I am overcome, overwhelmed, and saturated with a sense of something so much greater than I could possibly put into words. Belief not as conscious decision, but as acknowledgment of a reality that pierces you to your core. One year ago, my daughter was born. This was one of these moments.” I think we’ve all experienced those sorts of moments, when there are no words, there are no explanations, there is only mystery.

And the love of God is one of those mysteries. Don’t try to explain it, don’t try to encapsulate it, you’ll ruin it. Just be loved. What was so powerful about this passage from Mark to the Jews gathered there that day was that there hadn’t been a prophet in at least 400 years; people assumed that God no longer spoke to people, that prophesy has ended. And we say the same thing, even the Church has said that the period of prophecy is closed. But I disagree.

I say that each and every day, God still calls out to us, “you are my son or daughter, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.” God is tearing the heavens apart to get us. Can you feel it? Do you hear God calling to you? If not, then I’d suggest taking up the practice of contemplative prayer, or using some other method to be quiet so that the voices and distractions of the world can be put aside so that you can hear the voice of your loving Father in heaven.

Henri Nouwen wrote “God not only says ‘you are my beloved.’ God also asks us ‘do you love me?’ and offers us countless chances to say ‘yes.’” You are the beloved of child of God. If you can accept and say “yes” to this love and share it with others, our world will be forever changed. And wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing to do after Christmas? Instead of putting Christmas into a box and shoving it into the attic for 11 months, may we continue celebrating Christmas by sharing the gift of God’s love with the world.

Amen.