June 25, 2012 - Proper 7B

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

This has always been one of my favorite stories about Jesus in the Bible. There are so many facets that catch my attention. I grew up in south Florida, so perhaps the vision a violent storm popping up out of the blue is familiar to me and is why I identify with it. Today though I’m going to focus just on one aspect of the story- the calming presence of Jesus.

This passage comes in the beginning of Mark when Jesus is just beginning his ministry. Mark has been telling stories about the miracles that Jesus performs. Jesus calms the storm in this reading, but will also cast out a demon from a possessed man and will heal people of their infirmities in the following chapter.

Mark is writing with the purpose of showing that Jesus is more than a religious man; he is more than a prophet. Instead, Jesus is the Son of God. The divinity of Jesus is of paramount concern in Mark. So we see miracles of Jesus showing great power over evil spirits, nature, and in his ability to heal people. Our focus this morning is on the calming of a storm on the Sea of Galilee.

Calming a storm in the Biblical worldview is quite the feat. The religious thought of the Ancient Near East was that only the gods had power over the seas. And not even every god could do that, just the supreme gods. Often only the gods who had the power to create the world were seen as being capable of having power over the seas. Think of the way Poseidon stands out in Greek mythology along with Zeus as the most powerful of the gods. Even in the Old Testament, there are references to sea serpents and battles over stormy seas which reflect this world view.

Mark is building on this worldview to show the power of Jesus. The text says that this was a big storm; the Greek calls it a “mega” storm. And this must have been quite the storm. After all, remember that several of Jesus’ disciples used to be fishermen. Their life’s work was to be out on the Sea of Galilee fishing day in and day out. And they would have experienced their fair share of storms. The disciples though are afraid; this must have been a big one.

But Jesus was sleeping through the whole thing. Jesus had a sort of trusting relationship with God that allowed him to remain calm not only in this, but in many other circumstances. The disciples though had not yet learned how to practice this sort of trusting reliance on God. So they wake Jesus up and they ask him if he cares that they’re about to die. Jesus responds by getting up and commanding the sea to be still and it obeys. Not only does it obey, but the Greek again uses the word “mega” to describe the calm that followed. It was a complete 180 from all of the chaos and fear which the storm stirred up. A surreal sort of calm followed; their fear turned to wonder. The disciples were amazed and pondered who Jesus might be. After all, this wasn’t the sort of thing that just anyone could do; this was something that only the power of God could accomplish. Mark is making a strong statement about Jesus by having him calm a storm so easily.

Unlike the disciples, we have the benefit of time on our side. The disciples had just been introduced to Jesus and were trying to figure him out. We have 2,000 years of witness to go along with our personal experiences of the Resurrected Jesus in our attempts to understand and follow him. As unnerving as it might be, when I read a few commentaries on this passage, several scholars doubted the historicity of this passage. While I realize that there is literary license taken in the writing of the gospels, I do think that something of this nature did happen with Jesus and his disciples. Even if it wasn’t the storm that abated, but rather their fear that diminished when Jesus was with them, a miracle happened that day. The specific facts of history are not why we are here this morning; we are here because of the continuing implications of these stories on our lives.

Mark included this story in his account of the Good News because he wanted to show that Jesus was not just a run of the mill holy person. Jesus was not a man who had some talent and charisms; he was more than that: he was and is the Son of God. And as the Son of God who lived, died and was resurrected he still has the power to calm the storms of our lives.

There is a contemporary Christian band called Casting Crowns and they have a song called “Praise You In This Storm.” It starts by saying “I was sure by now, God,/ that you would have reached down/ and wiped our tears away,/ stepped in and saved the day.// But once again, I say amen/ and it’s still raining// as the thunder rolls/ I barely hear you whisper through the rain,/ I’m with you.” I don’t have to list all the storms that you could possibly have in your life. The experiences of the death of a loved one, battling health issues, divorce, losing a job, addiction or even good things such as moving to a new town can be a stormy experience. They turn day to night, they toss us about and make us exclaim, like the disciples, “God, why are you letting me suffer?” This is question the song begins with, “God, I thought you would have done something about this by now.” Sometimes God miraculously calms the storm through an answered prayer, a change of circumstance, or a caring friend. But sometimes the storm in us is what is contained. The key is in knowing that calming a storm doesn’t always mean that the rain stops, sometimes the calm is found in our hearts as the storm rages outside.

And even if the rain continues to fall, we can take refuge knowing that the calming power of Jesus can overcome all. When the storm continues, Jesus will be with us as we weather the storm. I remember growing up in Florida that sometimes you run from a hurricane, but sometimes you hunker down. Some hurricanes will be calmed and will avoid a disastrous landfall, but sometimes you just have to wait it out. And sometimes you have to pick up the pieces after the storm passes. The message of the Gospel this morning is that Jesus’ calming presence and power can overcome any storm- sometimes calming the storm, and other times in calming us to get through it and helping us to rebuild. May God be with us all as we navigate the seas of life and run into stormy waters.

Amen.

June 12, 2012 - Proper 5B

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

            This sermon is a matter of national security. Well, maybe not quite that serious, but it is about the nation and security. Both our Old Testament and Gospel readings beg the question “whose are we?” and “where do we find security?” Those are two questions that we still struggle to answer today- to whom do we belong, who rules over us; and were does our safety come from, what allows us to sleep soundly at night?

            Some context in each story is helpful. The Israelites have come out of Egypt and settled in the Promised Land. Their first form of government was a series of judges who judged cases, but weren’t quite rulers. But as you might expect, the judges became corrupt and the people were unhappy with the situation. Samuel became God’s appointed prophet. When we pick up the story there is a lot of tension in the air, as people are worried about the future, and so they ask for a king.

The context of Mark is important as well. We’re early in Mark, just at chapter 3, but remember, Mark is the Reader’s Digest version of the gospel, it moves quickly and tells the story straight. So thus far, Jesus has been baptized, called his disciples, cast out demons, healed several people, forgiven sins, eaten with tax collectors and sinners, had a run-in with the Pharisees, and taught some lessons. At one point the text says that “fame about Jesus had begun to spread.” But it wasn’t necessarily a good kind of fame, you might better read it as “Jesus was getting a reputation.” Jesus was known as a rebel-rouser, a blasphemer, and as we see in this reading today, a host for demons. So when the text says that they came together, and the disciples couldn’t eat, it was because they were so crowded that there was no space for a meal. So Jesus’ family gets wind of what’s going on, and they go out to stop him from making more of a fool of himself, or the family. To the family, Jesus was that crazy relative who seems to be off his rocker at Thanksgiving dinner.

So with these two backgrounds in our minds, I’d like to explore the question of where our security comes from. The way I propose to do this is to consider the reasons why Israel wanted to have a king. First, I’ll introduce a thesis, which represents Israel’s thinking. Then I’ll offer an antithesis, explaining why they are wrong. And finally, I’ll offer some synthesis showing that Jesus is the best source of security we can have.

The first reason why Israel wanted a king was to keep up with the Joneses. Israel looked around them and they saw the other nations, all with their kings. And with those kings came all the trimmings of royalty. Just look at what’s been going on in England the last week with the celebration around Queen Elizabeth. Brits have been honoring the royal family, having parades, and all sorts of festivities. And to be honest, it looks sort of fun. Now their politics aren’t great, their economy struggles just as ours does, but I wonder what having that sort of national unity and pride for a week might do for our country and our bitter partisan divide. So Israel saw these other nations having thrones and parades, and they committed one of the most basic sins- the sin of saying “I want.”

Israel saw that their neighbor had something that looked neat, and they wanted it. Forget the fact that they had the Lord on their side, forget that God had made them God’s chosen people, they wanted more. Even to the point that they wanted what was bad for them. It’s a problem we know all too well. We fill ourselves with things that we don’t need, whether it be junk food, pornography, or stuff that fills our attic. In America we, too, care far too much about having the latest and the greatest. We covet. We covet our neighbor’s wife, we covet their new car, and we despise them when they get things that we can’t have.

We also like the quick fix, as did Israel. They thought that coronating a king would solve their problems. They hoped it would fix their economic system, give them a powerful army, and would make their neighbors respect them. And they thought all of this would happen overnight.  In Washington, we see people all the time talking about tax reform as the way to fix the economy, or hydraulic fracking as the solution to our energy crisis. They say if we would just vote for their candidate, things would be better already. People complain that Obama hasn’t fixed the economy in 3 years, even though it took about 15 years to build the crumbling foundation. We ignore the fact that we’ve been on a path towards environmental destruction for 150 years since the Industrial Revolution, but we want a solution to energy tomorrow.

I even see this at St. Francis- there are some people that want to look for the silver bullet in getting more people to attend Sunday School and the forum. We want to say that if we could just change the service times to imitate some other model, then we would find success. But we ignore the fact that culture has changed and church participation doesn’t mean what it used to. As much as we want a quick fix, we can’t get around the fact that discipleship is a long journey.

The point is this- Israel wanted to have a king to imitate other nations, because they thought it would be the quick fix to their problems. But in reality, a king only added to their problems, as each and every problem that Samuel mentions came to pass. The antithesis here is that we shouldn’t imitate others because that is taking a step backwards. We already have someone to imitate, and that is Jesus.

In his classic work Christ and Culture, Richard Niebuhr talked about different paradigms for how the church should relate to culture. He said that Christ can be against culture, of culture, or above culture. And he explains that each of these has its issues. When Israel tried to imitate others, it was trying to be of the culture. When people go live in compounds such as the Branch Davidians, they are against culture. People who think this world is worthless and are waiting for the Rapture would be those who say Christ is above culture. The last model that he recommends is that Christ transforms culture. You might say that this is the group that says our proper place is in culture, but not of it.

But this isn’t easy, to stay in the world, but trying to transform it. It means fighting an uphill battle, it means trying to move immovable structures. This is not a quick fix, and our neighbor will think we’re a bit crazy, but Christians are in the business of transformation.

The second reason why Israel wanted a king was security. Kings were also the generals of the army, and without a king, you can’t have a good army. Israel wanted protection, they wanted to be safe, and the only way they thought this would happen would be to have a king leading them. After all, they thought, God is good, but God doesn’t ride a horse in armor as we go into battle. Israel was struggling with the same age old question that we do- it’s the balance between divine providence and self-sufficiency.

We all want to trust in God to provide and protect, but on the other hand, we all know that if we just sit around and wait for God to act, we’ll be waiting a really long time. One of my favorite lines in theology is that God gives us maximum support, with minimum protection. If you are sick, there is very little chance that God will heal you if you don’t also ask a doctor for some help. If faith healers were legitimate sources for a cure, we’d have more people here today than there are at Moses Cone, but we all know that it just doesn’t work that way. God won’t take care of the hungry if we don’t plant and harvest any crops. Now this isn’t to limit God, or to deny miracles such as loaves and fish, or manna from heaven, but I think we can all agree that if you don’t go to the grocery store, God isn’t going to fill your refrigerator with food.

Israel recognized this fact. And as they looked around, they saw that their land was indeed a land flowing with milk and honey, it is a fertile land that has great sources of water, which are especially important in the Middle East. Israel knew that other nations, those with kings and big armies, also saw these things. They were afraid, and so they turned to a king to protect them. Just as God had given them the Promised Land and blessed them during the journey there, God promised to continue to be with them. But they couldn’t ignore the storm clouds on the horizon, they decided to turn their back on God and went with a king. And we know how the story ends, Israel would be overrun by a series of other nations- the king didn’t give them the protection they sought.

But if I’m right, that God does give maximum support with minimum protection, how should we live? If God is going to give us minimum protection, shouldn’t we seek some sort of backup protection? To borrow a line from St. Paul’s 2nd epistle to the Corinthians, “For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” Security all comes down to how you define it. If security means never being hurt, never being poor, never being in danger- God will not protect us. But if security means knowing that no matter what happens to our earthly tent, we will always have house with God- then we indeed are secure.

It’s sort of what happens when you graduate from college. You go out, you are free to have fun, to live, and to make mistakes. And good parents let you do these things, they let you fall, they let you stumble, but they let you live. And when you get into trouble and need a place to stay, they always welcome you back home. But just as we need to maintain relationships with our parents, we also need to maintain our relationship with God. God will grant us security, just not safety.

And the final reason Israel wanted a king was because the wanted to protect the status  quo. The thing about kings is that, like career politicians and lobbyists, they tend to be easy to corrupt. Again, the news gives us all the examples we need. Both the Occupy Movement and the Arab Spring have arisen because the 1% and monarchy or dictator are dominating the world. When someone gets absolute power, they aren’t going to let go of it easily. So we see corporate CEOs fighting to keep their bonuses and jobs, and we see Bashar al-Assad killing his own people in Syria. Those in power wanted a king, because it meant the king would keep them in power. The question here is the same question that we have today. What is the role of government in our lives? What is our mission?

Now I’m not talking about the Hamiltonian versus Jeffersonian debates of the 18^th century, but rather, why are we here? If everyone did what was right and cared for their neighbor, we wouldn’t really need government, or at least not much of one. But we all know that without taxes, a lot of people would keep their money to themselves; without laws, people would do as they please with little regard for others; without social welfare programs, the poor and needy would be utterly helpless.

Government exists to protect the interests of the people. But we all know that different people have different interests. Those in power, whether 2,500 years ago in Jerusalem, or right now in DC, want to make sure their interests are the ones that are protected. The problem with this is that Jesus doesn’t call us to protect the status  quo. In fact, he calls us to turn this world upside down so that the Kingdom  of  God might come on earth as it is in heaven.

Look at the reading from Mark. Jesus is protecting the interest of those who are not protected by the ruling elite. He’s healing the sick, feeding the hungry, giving good news to the downtrodden. Until the status  quo is love at its fullest expression at all times and in all places, the job of the Christian will be to stand up against government, against rulers, against the status  quo. Until our prisons are empty, until no one eats at soup kitchens, until soldiers only respond to natural disasters, until no home is foreclosed on, until the unemployment rate is zero, until slavery is a part of history, until hatred knows no home in our hearts and minds, until that day, the status  quo must be challenged.

So those are the reasons Israel wanted a king- to imitate others, to have security, and to protect those in power. But as that thinking didn’t work out for Israel, neither will it for us. Instead, Jesus is the place we turn to for all authority, leadership, and security. As Jesus is accused of harboring demons and being a vessel for Satan, he reminds us that a house divided cannot stand against itself. As Israel learned, we cannot seek the things of kingship and follow God.

Now to be clear, this is not easy; Jesus was ridiculed for what he did and said. He was mocked, scourged, and killed. His family tried to silence him, some of his own disciples deserted and betrayed him. But we’re all here on this Sunday morning because we know that he was right. Jesus was right to fight the powers of his day, he was right to realize that death wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him, he was right to focus on God instead of his own safety, he was right to proclaim the Kingdom  of  God over the kingdoms of Rome or Israel.

Instead of a king, Jesus is worthy of our imitation, as his way leads to eternal life, both on this side and the other of death. Jesus is our security, not from all danger, but from living a life devoid of meaning. And Jesus invites us to participate in the status  quo of the Kingdom  of  God- taking part in its love, its peace, its justice.

And I do want to leave you all with a sense of security to do this demanding task of following Jesus. At the end of the Marcan reading, Jesus’ family came and called to him, and he says “here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” This is a radical statement. It’s not that Jesus is disrespecting his family, or disowning them, but he is redefining family. Jesus is saying that if we accept God as our father instead of the rulers as our king, then we are family to each other. If we are all citizens of the Kingdom  of  God, we all are under the same leader.

Jesus invites us to consider the question- “what does your house stand for?” I ask you to take that question home with you- “what does your house stand for?” And in answering, “we stand undivided for God” then we are given a great sense of security. Jesus says “look around. If you are with me, you will have brothers and sisters who do not disown you or call you crazy, but who support and love you. You might not share DNA with them, but they are your brothers and sisters indeed.” Relying on God to be our king is not an easy task, but we are given security by being surrounded by family.

So my brothers and sisters, let us stand together and do the work of our Father in Heaven, doing the work of transforming this world into God’s Kingdom. Amen.

June 3, 2012 - Trinity B

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

            Domine ivimus. Those words are a fairly recent discovery at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. This church is built over the places where Jesus was crucified and rose again on Easter morning. Archeologists were exploring the foundations of the church via fiber optic cables and found some graffiti on a wall. Now, normally graffiti is not a welcome sight, but this one was, as it dates back to the early 4^th century. There is a drawing of a boat, and below it the Latin words domine ivimus, meaning “Lord, we went.”

            We don’t know who left this graffiti, but likely they had come from a long way to do so. The picture of the boat makes us think they sailed there, and the Latin indicates that they came not from the local area, but from Europe. And they make such a simple statement, domine ivimus, as if to say “Lord, we made it! Here we are, O Lord!” These early pilgrims were traveling in a time when Christians were fed to lions for sport, when such a long journey meant taking months away from home and work, when traveling that distance was full of dangers and challenges. But they went, and they made it.

            When I read our passage from Isaiah earlier this week, reading the question posed by God- “whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” and the corresponding response “here I am; send me,” I immediately thought of that holy graffiti. Two great proclamations of faith “Lord, here we are” and “here I am”- but I began to wonder “where is here?”

            This passage from Isaiah is a very well known one, often being read at ordinations. We read it today because today is Trinity Sunday and this is one of the Biblical passages that points to the idea of the Trinity, though it certainly doesn’t said it plainly. The song of the seraphim should also seem familiar, as it is the sanctus that we sing in the middle of the Eucharistic prayer. God has a job that needs to be done, and God needs a messenger, a doer for this task. St. Augustine once said that “without God, we cannot; without us, God will not” and so it is. God has a vision, a plan, a hope for redeeming Israel and all the world. But God will not do it alone, as God empowers the creatures to take a part in constantly re-creating the Creation.

            Today, that same question still beckons from on high- “whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Who will feed the hungry? Who will love the unlovable? Who will stand up for the poor and the oppressed? Who will work for justice and peace? Who will tear down the walls that separate us? Who will choose the good of others over the good of themselves? Who will take up their cross and follow Christ? Who will teach Sunday School? Who will visit those in the hospital? Who will go and preach the Gospel? Who will build the Kingdom of God?

            The justice and salvation for the world that God had in mind has not yet come to its fullest realization on earth as it is in heaven. The world and God needs people to go. But before we get going, before we can say “here I am,” we must discern where exactly we are. We’re not in Kansas anymore. Christianity is at a crucible moment. Christianity is no longer the assumption, as 25% of young adults choose “none” when asked for their religious affiliation. We’ve seen declines in all sorts of ways- Americans give less financially than they used to, we spend less time at church than we did in the past, we pray less, read the Bible less, and know less about those topics than our parents and grandparents did.

And what are reasons for this decline? Well, basically, they are the same as we see in Isaiah- excuses. Isaiah says that he’s unclean, and therefore unfit to be God’s messenger. Sorry God, really wish I could help out, but I just can’t. Not many of us use unclean lips as our excuse, but we still have our excuses: I don’t know enough to teach Sunday School, I’m too busy to come to forums, reading the Bible every day is just a lot of time, people will think I’m crazy if I talk about Jesus in public. But just as God addressed Isaiah’s excuses, God addressed ours as well.

Saying “here I am, send me” is one of the hardest statements to make because it means dedicated ourselves to something other than ourselves. Being sent involves taking risks, being uncomfortable, spending less time watching television and more time reading the Bible, spending less on vacations and Starbucks and more on charity. Being sent is not for the faint of heart. But as on any journey, we all know that doing it halfway doesn’t get you anywhere. If you want to go to Paris, halfway gets you to the middle of the ocean. You can only have the experience of saying “here I am” or “Lord, we made it” if you go all the way. Christianity is supposed to be a challenge, it is supposed to be counter-cultural, it is supposed to be hard. We wear crosses around our necks, and if that doesn’t tell us that saying “here I am, send me” is hard, then I don’t know what would. And so because it can be such a challenge, more and more people are finding themselves reluctant to take on the challenge. If we read the signs of the times, signs such as less involvement, less giving, less commitment, it seems like we have signs of despair.

But looking at our gospel reading and Nicodemus, we see that signs are not all they’re cracked up to be. Nicodemus is such a wonderful character, and a great stand-in for many of us. Nicodemus was part of the establishment- he was an upstanding member of the Jewish community, he was a respected leader, he was well liked, he was wealthy and educated. And he understood what following Jesus would mean. Nicodemus knew that discipleship under Jesus would be renouncing his wealth and comfort, his power and prestige. As a member of the Jewish power structure, he knew that Jesus was bound to end up in trouble with the law and knew that there was a bounty on Jesus’ head. But he was still intrigued by Jesus. Nicodemus yearned for the sort of stuff that Jesus spoke about- the love, justice, and peace of the Kingdom of God. But he wasn’t quite sure if he was ready to commit.

Perhaps Nicodemus should be considered the patron saint for the seeker and the uncertain. So Nicodemus comes to visit and question Jesus at night. He probably snuck out of his house so that no one would notice his absence, he took some alleys instead of main roads to get to Jesus, probably had his cloak pulled up around his head so that no one would recognize him. Nicodemus comes to Jesus and asks him about the signs. Perhaps he figures that if Jesus can explain the signs or even do a few more, then he could take the plunge and follow Jesus- he just needs to see a little more evidence, needs just a little more convincing.

But Jesus wants nothing to do with these signs and instead offers a riddle about being born from above. Jesus introduces a lot of dichotomies and comparisons in his response: flesh vs. spirit; born from above vs. born from below: light vs. dark; hearing vs. understanding; condemnation vs. salvation. Jesus makes it clear that to follow him, his followers must make a choice about where “here” is for them. With all of these options, a choice has to be made. Will you focus on what is above you, or what is around you? Will you hear, or will you understand? Does Jesus condemn, or does Jesus save? To choose one thing, is to choose not to do the other. As much as we want to have it both ways, we can’t. You can’t be a disciple and an individualist. You can’t hoard up treasure and follow Jesus. You can’t turn a blind eye to those in need and love Jesus. You can’t come to Jesus by hiding at night and ignore him during the daylight. Jesus invites Nicodemus to make a choice that night.

But Nicodemus doesn’t understand what’s going on, as he’s still trying to figure Jesus out, instead of simply living in Jesus. He wants to say “here I am, send me,” but wants to know first where he will be sent. Nicodemus gets tripped up. When Jesus says that you have to be “born from above” it could also be understood as being “born again.” Nicodemus makes the same mistake that millions of Evangelicals make when they put so much emphasis on being born again.  We don’t need to be born again, once was enough; but in our lifestyle, we have a choice: either we are born from above and seek ye first the Kingdom of God, or we are born of this world and seek the idols of comfort, certainty, wealth, and self.

Being born from above is the key, orientating ourselves towards God is the task of discipleship. Just as Eucharist without meaning from above is just bread and wine, and Baptism that is not from above is just a bath, life without being born from above is simply going through the motions each day. Just like the sacraments of the Church, the meaning for our lives comes from above. If we trust that there is a loving Creator, a redeeming Lord, a giving Spirit, our truest meaning is only found when we locate ourselves as being “here” in God. St. Augustine said “our hearts are restless, O Lord, until they find rest in thee.”

Nicodemus doesn’t find what he was looking for, he couldn’t see how being born again, or from above, was something he could do, so he walks home. He wanted a sign to show him the way, but if could be born from above, he himself would be the sign. Later in John, we’ll run into Nicodemus again, but for now, he’s only watches Jesus from the sidelines and isn’t ready to get into the game. What prevents Nicodemus from going all-in? I don’t know, I wasn’t there, I didn’t have a chance to interview Nicodemus while I was writing this sermon. But it’s a question we should all ask ourselves. What keeps us from being the most devote disciples of Jesus as possible? And this isn’t me speaking on high to you all either, none of us have it all figured out. When I love, I worry about being hurt. When I give money away, I worry about unexpected expenses coming up. When I wear my collar out in public, I risk being labeled and judged as something I’m not. When I counsel people in need, I worry about not being helpful. When I decide to follow Jesus and go against cultural norms, I fear the repercussions. When I speak about dedication and following Jesus, I worry that I’ll scare people away with too much talk to commitment. And Lord knows, I make my share of mistakes- whether it’s a short temper or a selfish attitude, I don’t think I’m alone in sin.

There are thousands of reasons to be like Nicodemus, to stay a seeker, to avoid the risk of going all-in with discipleship, but there is one really good reason to take the plunge, to say “Lord, send me.” John 3:16- “for God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” Let’s rescue that verse from the billboards, from those who want to use that verse to exclude instead of welcome, and more importantly, let’s not interrupt Jesus in the middle of a thought. John 3:17 is just as important- “indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

In these two verses, Jesus speaks about the rationale for being born from above and living for the Kingdom which is above: we are loved and we are saved. In a recent interview, Desmond Tutu was asked about freedom after Apartheid ended in South Africa and he said that being freed from something is actually quite easy by comparison, but the harder task is being freed for something. It was one thing to freed from legal discrimination and prejudice, but it something else entirely to be freed for service and reconciliation. It was easy for Isaiah to be cleansed from his sins, but it was hard to be cleansed for being sent. This distinction between “from” and “for” is a very helpful one in looking at these verses.

Through Jesus we see God’s love and are saved. So what? Big deal. If salvation is some sort of divine action on the cosmic level that lifts some sort of roadblock into heaven, then what difference does it make? Being loved, saved, or freed from something has very little meaning, just like living from below instead of above. If I love my wife, what difference does that make to her or to me? Not much. But what if I love her for a purpose? What if I love her for the sake of making her happy, of being her companion through the ups and downs of life, of supporting her? That is something life changing. And the same can be said of God.

If there is some deity in the sky that loves us, great. But if the Almighty loves us for the purpose of making us whole, of giving us meaning, of letting us partner with God in Creation, then that matters. And the same is true of salvation. We are all sinners, yes. And forgiveness is a great thing, don’t get me wrong, but if our salvation is about life after death, then what’s the point of all this? Why bother with all this suffering, with the challenges of life? But what if we are saved not from something, but for something? What if we are saved so that we can do accomplish something? What if we are saved from wallowing in our sins, from fear of death or failure so that we can attend to the needy or sacrifice our self interests for the greater good? What if we are saved from being unlovable so that we can go out and love with all of our being? That, my brothers and sisters, is something to be excited about. That understanding of John 3:16 is something to put on a billboard or make posters about.

To live into the purpose of our love and salvation is a daunting and holy task, but it is the task to which we are called. Our world needs more people to do get into their boats and say domine ivimus, “Lord we are here”, or “send me.” To do so is to be bold and courageous. Our hearts yearn to find their rest in God, to fully embrace our mission. We are loved for a purpose, saved for a reason: building the Kingdom of God. There is much work to be done, the “help wanted” ad has been posted, now is our time to answer “here we are Lord, send us.”

Exiled Hymns

There was an interesting debate among some Facebook friends this past week over the use of national hymns this past weekend, which was Memorial Day weekend. The person starting the conversation suggested that all national hymns (God Bless Our Native Land; My Country, tis of Thee; God of Our Fathers; O Beautiful for Spacious Skies; National Anthem) should be removed from the hymnal. There are other hymns that I know clergy avoid at all costs. I know a priest who refuses to have the congregation sing Alleluia, Sing to Jesus because one line says that Jesus was a victim in his death. This priest is convinced that Jesus knew he would die and acted anyway, and thought it was wrong to call Jesus a victim since he willingly took on his suffering. I know another priest who will not allow Onward Christian Soldiers to be sung due to its violent imagery.

"Why all the fuss?", you might ask, it's just a song. St. Augustine said that singing is praying twice- once through the beauty of music and voice, and once through the words of the hymn. For the same reason that parents don't want their children listening to songs about drugs and sex, the Church doesn't want people singing about bad theology, lest we "experiment" with it.

So what's going on with these national songs? I actually agree that most national songs have no place in a worship service. In thinking about this topic and reading some opinions online, I found one person who equated a church to an embassy. If you go to France, for example, you are on French soil. That is, unless you find your way to the US Embassy, then you are back on US soil. In the same way, a church building ceases to be within the borders of the US (or any other nation), but becomes the soil of the Kingdom of God. In church, the President/King/Leader is not our ruler, but God is. So to sing the national anthem of a foreign land is out of place. Furthermore, there is an assumption that in the Kingdom of God/Heaven, there are no countries, no distinctions of citizenship, as we are all citizens of God's Kingdom, so the fact that we have such divisions on the earth is a mark of sin. To celebrate these divisions, as noble as they might be, is to embrace this fractured reality.

Several of these hymns actually have great words and fine theology, but a few don't. O Beautiful for Spacious Skies has some problems (though we could start by getting rid of "America!" as a refrain). For reasons stated above, I do have an issue with the National Anthem (or flags in the church for that matter). There is nothing wrong with praising God for good land, for beautiful landscapes, and the richness of God's blessing on us. In a sense, there is nothing wrong with patriotism- being proud of your country and it's ideals. You can realize that ideally, there would be no distinction between one group or another while still thinking the the ideas of liberty, freedom, justice, and equality are good things for a state to uphold, and therefore being thankful that you live in a land that shares those values.

The problem is not that these songs foster a sense of patriotism, but rather that they fuel nationalism. Nationalism is a nuanced difference from patriotism; it is about your nation being better than others. Nationalism is seeing the US as the New Israel, or us being the elect and the others being the heathens. Nationalism prays "God bless the USA" while the better prayer is "God bless Creation." Some of these national songs would be better sung on days such as Thanksgiving, because they are songs primarily of thanks. But to sing them on days such as Memorial Day, July 4, or Veterans' Day is to promote nationalism and putting our country above others. And let us not remember, pride is often seen as a sin, so even being proud of our nation is a slippery slope.

Now on to other types of hymns- the example will be Onward Christian Soldiers. I'll admit, I like the tune, and even many of the words. Like the national hymns, the theology is mostly spot on- but there is the issue of war and violence. As the wonderful prayer for peace in the BCP reads "[in God's Kingdom] no sword is drawn but the sword of righteousness, no strength known but the strength of love." War, again, reminds us that divisions are sin, and to celebrate sin is dangerous, no matter how noble the cause of war might be. I'm not pushing for pacifism here (that's another debate for another day), but I'm not sure that our prayers (hymns) should promote violence or use metaphors of war for how Christians should act. But it would be such a shame to lose such beautiful music and great ideas (Brothers, we are treading/where the saints have trod;/we are not divided,/all one body we,/one in hope and doctrine,/one in charity. -or- Onward, then, ye people,/join our happy throng;/blend with ours your voices/in the triumph song:/glory, laud, and honor,/unto Christ the King;/this through countless ages/men and angels sing). I guess I'm saying that I don't want to throw the baby out with the bathwater, either in this case or in the case of national hymns (or at least some of them).

From the Hymnal 1940 to the Hymnal 1982 there were some hymns that were tweaked for the purpose of having gender neutral language. Now I'll be the the first to acknowledge that I'm not a musician, nor do I know much about hymnody, but perhaps someone who does could find ways to reword some of these hymns. Perhaps if clergy and music directors could find ways to incorporate these hymns into the Church year without stirring up nationalism, then we could celebrate their richness and indeed, pray twice with them.

So what do you think? And don't be shy- leave a comment.

Prayer

I've had some conversations lately that have revolved around the purpose/ends/opinions around prayer. As some of you read in my letter to St. Francis announcing that my wife and I are expecting our first child:

Prayer is a very powerful tool, as it both changes our attitudes, but also has an impact on the world as we work together with God to bring about the Kingdom on earth as it in heaven. As Paul writes in his first letter to Thessalonica, “pray without ceasing.” (1 Thessalonians 5:17). Prayer is not something we “do” at certain times, as all of our life is about being in relationship with God and others; so then everything we do is prayer. So as you go through your day, considering how to prayerfully live in each moment and respond accordingly, we ask your prayers for us, along with the many whom you hold in your hearts. 

And I very much mean that- prayer is indeed powerful. One of the benefits to spiritual direction, is that my spiritual directors have always been able to help me to see prayer in new and powerful ways. I once said that I grew up thinking that prayer was done on your knees, hands folded, and Book of Common Prayer open. She pointed out that, while that is prayer, prayer is everything we do. If we believe that God is all-knowing, all-seeing, all-loving, then all we do is in relationship to God- we can't escape God. And if prayer is relationship with God, then the math is pretty simple- everything is prayer.

My spiritual director recommend an article about prayer as a "second breath." It was a helpful read, because it articulated this theology of prayer and recommends living a life of praying blessings instead of curses. I commend it you, dear readers. 

But what does prayer do? Well, as I've suggested, I think it has something to do with relationship. Now some people have trouble with prayer with an invisible deity who does not directly say anything back to us (at least, not in the form of sound waves that we think of as being normative in other relationships). It's similar though to all kinds of relationships we have. Some people are estranged from certain family remembers, but they are still in relationship with them, even if they don't speak for years. Others are in relationship with loved ones who have died many years ago. You see things that remind you of that person, you can even hear their words of wisdom echoing in certain situations, you hear a song that reminds you of them, or you feel their presence when you go to place you used to visit together. Relationship with God is somewhat like this. For me, I think of our child in the womb. I haven't met this person, I don't even know their name, or if it's a him or a her- but I'm in relationship with it, I care for it, I can't wait to know it more deeply one day. And I could likely say similar things about God.

I had a professor in seminary who spoke of prayer as action- and I very much liked and agreeing with his assessment. He spoke about quantum physics and the notion that we cannot understand the relationship between matter and energy. The famous example is that a butterfly flapping its wings in San Francisco causing a tsunami in Tokyo. Is this a literal example? Probably not, but it is to say that there are effects to causes that we cannot predict or understand. He then described prayer as working with God, creating space for God to act. Prayer is not just wishful thinking, it is actually effective. Now God can act with or without our help. But if you subscribe to a theology of creatio continua, as I do, then you believe that creation is not finished, and we are indeed working alongside to bring about the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven. Prayer then, is a way to work with God to continue that Kingdom building.

I could say much more about prayer, exploring different avenues, talking about where prayer leads us, how liturgical prayer fits into this, but I'll save that for another day. For now, I'll leave it at this- prayer is about relationship and prayer is effectual. 

And as a resource- I've been using http://www.missionstclare.com/english/ to help me in my prayer life recently. Great resource, and they even have apps available for phones/tablets.

Thoughts? Opinions? Conversation starters?

The Creed

Ah, the Creed. That part of the service that seemingly everyone has issues with. Do you say it or not? Do you cross your fingers during parts of it? Do you wish those who can't say it would just be deemed as heretics? As the video above suggests, do we say it like robots, or do we mean it? How about the seeker or newcomer that darkens the door of the Church? Do we expect them to immediately confess this Creed, or do we welcome them by letting them stand there confused while we chant words that seem rather odd to them?

Some of the issue with the Creed deals with the word "believe." So when we say "I believe in the Resurrection," what exactly are we saying? Some would say it means that we assent to the intellectual hypothesis that Jesus was resurrected from the dead. This understand would be the same as someone seeing it rain and saying, "I believe it is raining outside." It's a fact of observation.

This though is not really the intention of the Creed, as it is not a faithful translation of the word "believe." In her book The Case for God, Karen Armstrong does a word study on "believe." She notes that the word in the New Testament is the Greek pisteuo (and note, this is a verb, not a noun), and it means "trust, loyalty, engagement, commitment." This word would be translated into English as faith. But before it got to English, pistis (the noun form of belief) was translated at fides (meaning "loyalty" in Latin). But fides is a noun, and has no verbal form. So when the action was needed, the word credo was used, meaning "I give my heart to." Credo derived from cor do, so you might see the connection to words such as cardiology (heart).  There were other words available though, opinor could have been used to convey a sense of opinion or intellectual thought, but credo was preferred. In the King James translation, both pisteuo and credo became "believe," which at the time was a decent translation. But over the years, especially with the rise of science in the 17th century, belief came to be more about opinion that it did action. In Middle English, believe was bileven, meaning "to prize, to hold dear, to value" and was derived from German words related to "belove." Belief was more about theory and the hypothetical than it was about trust.

This word study is important because the word "belief" trips a lot of people up. Today, you can believe that the world is flat and that is valid as a belief, because most people will say things like "belief is your opinion, as as long as your beliefs don't hurt me, you can believe whatever you'd like." But belief is more about what you do and how you do it than what you think.

A better translation of the Creed might be I dedicate myself to God...Jesus...the Holy Spirit. Or instead of dedicate, perhaps "trust," "am loyal to," "live for," or "love." The Creed really is a simple statement, with some explanations attached to it. At it's core, the Creed is "I belove God, I belove Jesus, I belove the Holy Spirit." And who is God? God is the creator of heaven and earth. Who is Jesus? Jesus is the son of God, who died and rose again. Who is the Spirit? The Spirit guides and animates the Church.

It has been said lex orandi, lex credendi- loosely translated as "what you pray will shape what you believe." The words of our liturgy will shape our thoughts about God, as well as our dedication to God. If we pray to God as if God is an angry Father who is hellbent on atonement, then we will live in fear of God and will act as if saving souls is the most important thing in the world. And if we pray to a God who cares for the widows and orphans, then we too will likely take up issues of justice.

And in the same way, if we say the Creed with our fingers crossed, like it's some sort of superstitious incantation, then we're likely going to see God as the old man in the sky who we're not really sure is even there. When we force the Creed to be something it was never meant to be, it becomes destructive, divisive, and confusing.

Remember, we don't worship the Creed, nor is it a lithmus test. Instead, the Creed is a prayer of devotion, an act of trust, words of hope. As Diana Butler Bass says, "a creed is considered a symbol of faith, not the faith itself." And, I think a lot of people's trepidation around the Creed comes from a confusion of these two.

In fact, the word "doctrine" comes from the French word "doctor" meaning "healing teaching." The creeds and other doctrinal statements are not meant to hurt or exclude, but instead to be life-giving instruments for healing division and confusion. Creeds were to draw people deeper into relationship with God, but often they are used as a reason for people to break up with the Church.

But you still might ask, "how do I love/dedicate myself to/trust in the Virgin birth? Our sinful nature that needed redeeming?" You might point out that the Creed comes out of a Greek world view and is obsessed with issues such as homoousios (substances and nature of being), which really aren't part of our worldview any longer. Maybe you're not sure about the final judgment.

Just like the Bible, the Creed was written in history by people with preconceived notions, biases, and agendas. And these people, just like the authors of the Bible, weren't perfect. But they were vessels for the Holy Spirit; and they put a lot of work, thought, blood, and discernment into developing the Creed. The Creed is a holy statement of belief (loving).  In the same way that we use Biblical criticism (historical, literary, tradition, redaction, canonical, etc.) to better understand the Bible, we should apply this to the Creed. How we understand the Virgin Birth in the Creed should mirror how we interpret it in Scripture. But just because we have trouble with intellectual assent to the Virgin Birth, doesn't mean that we don't believe it (as in, see Truth in it, even if not historical truth). 

Not to go off on a tangent, but whether or not Jesus was literally and historically born of a virgin doesn't mean much. This claim was made about him because, in his time, all savior figures were born of a virgin. For Jesus to be seen as Messiah, he had to have been born of a virgin, in the same way that the Emperor was also born of a virgin. So to claim the truth of the Virgin Birth is to claim it as an actual fact of history; but to claim it as Truth, it testifies to Jesus as Messiah. And this Truth is more important than any historical truth. Historical truths happened, they stay in the past. But Truths transcend time and affect us today. So I'd much rather have a Bible and Creed full of Truth than one full of truth. And this is how I read the Creed- it contains some truths of history, some theological claims that are not rooted in history, but it all points to the Truth of God. 

Now how to decide what is historical truth and what isn't? This is where the legacy of Richard Hooker guides me in his speaking of the via media and grounding in scripture, reason, and tradition. I don't decide that the Virgin Birth is metaphor and the Resurrection is historical, or vice versa. I realize that more than speaking about fact in either instance (historical or not), it refers to Truth first and foremost. But beyond that, we debate such issues by being grounded in Scripture which testifies to Jesus as the Word of God, we do it in the community of tradition, and we use our skills of reason and critical thinking.

So back to the point I was making- in the same way that we don't worship the Bible as the word of God, we shouldn't put too much emphasis on the Creed as the be-all, end-all of faith. Instead, our focus should be on the Word of God, and that is Jesus (John 1). The Bible testifies not to itself as word of God, but to Jesus as the Word of God, and the Creed does the same. Jesus it the measuring stick which we measure all things against- Bible, Creed, Church doctrine, etc. 

It is with this broader and more nuanced view that I faithfully, confidently, and prayerfully proclaim the Creed in the Daily Office or Sunday Eucharist. The Creed is a product of history, but I do trust that it was faithfully written and guided by the Holy Spirit. I proclaim it because in fact, I do love, dedicate myself to, and trust God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and the Truth about God conveyed in the Creed. 

Questions? Comments? Disagreements?

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.