Sunday, October 23, 2016

October 23, 2016 - Feast of St. Luke

Scripture Readings: Genesis 1:1-2, 26-28, 31; Psalm 23; 2 Timothy 4:5-13; Luke 18:9-14

Almighty and everlasting God, increase in us the gifts of faith, hope, and charity; and, that we may obtain what you promise, make us love what you command; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
            Today is a full day. We began with a wonderful opening anthem by our Novice Choir, we begin our stewardship efforts today, it is the feast of our patron saint, and this afternoon we’ll come together as a parish to Stop Hunger Now. I don’t know about you all, but I actually really enjoy the work of stewardship. A few weeks ago, we had clergy conference for the Diocese of North Carolina and there was an optional workshop on stewardship. I attended, and we were all asked to share why we decided to come to the session. I said, “Because stewardship is a passion of mine and I really enjoy it.” Several priests mentioned how odd that is.
            How did you feel when you opened your mail earlier this week and found the pledge card waiting for you? How about when you opened your bulletin this morning and saw a pledge card in there? Anxious? Guilty? Did you roll your eyes? Were you excited about the opportunity to join in supporting the ministry of this parish?
            The reason why I enjoy stewardship so much isn’t because I like asking people for money; I don’t. The reason why I am passionate about doing stewardship is because I believe it is central to the salvation given to us in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. When Jesus begins his public ministry in Luke, he says “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Central to what Jesus’ Good News is all about is liberation: freedom from the forces that seek to enslave us, whether it be a tyrannical government such as Rome, our own self-doubt, our economic systems which do harm to the poor, or our religious systems which can often limit the boundaries of God’s grace. But another really important part of our liberation is from enslavement to money.
            What is your relationship with money? Is your first emotion that of fear, that there might not be enough? Or is your first emotion gratitude, that you have enough, even if you don’t have as much as you might like? Is money something that you are enslaved to, or is it something that you use to express your values? A really good barometer that you can use to measure your relationship with money is to sit down and calculate how much money you are giving to the church and charities that you support.
            The issue at hand is that money is a very powerful tool in our society. Money is how we value time and effort. Money is how we are compensated for the time that we spend away from our family and our children. Money is how we value things like art, healthcare, and education. While you certainly can’t buy happiness, money can certainly cause disagreements and sleepless nights. And so the question of stewardship is this: do you control your money or does your money control you? If you want to know, try to give your money away. If you can’t, then I’d suggest that your money has more control over you than you might want to admit. Generosity is an indicator of spiritual health.
            Now, of course, life happens and things can get in the way of our giving. With two children in daycare, I get it. Unexpectedly, plumbing breaks, transmissions fail, stocks crash, and prescriptions need to be filled, and so sometimes we’re not able to be as generous as we might want to be. But the question remains, are you able to give anything away or not? If you are not able to part with any of your money, then you haven’t found the salvation and liberation of stewardship which Jesus offers us. This isn’t about fundraising for St. Luke’s. If you don’t believe that this place is worthy of your generosity, then don’t give here. But for the sake of your soul, give your money away and exercise your power over money so that it doesn’t exercise power over you. Stewardship is a part of our salvation because it helps us to be in a right relationship with money.
            And this generous posture is exactly the one we were created to have. As our reading from Genesis tells us, humanity is created in the image of God. And the very first image that we get of God in the Bible is a generative and generous one. As you can hear, the words “generate” and “generous” are related. God creates all that is as a supreme act of generation. All things have come into being through God’s generative actions. And God’s creation is an act of generosity. God didn’t need to create the world or humanity. But God chose to freely give so that the love and grace of God might be more widely known and spread. What Genesis tells us is that God generates all of Creation through an act of generosity.
            This is the image that we are created in. Just as God is generative, so are we. We are gifted with the ability to procreate, to build societies, and construct ideas. And we are also gifted with the ability to be generous. Generosity is a part of our divine DNA. We are created by and fashioned into the image of a generous God.
            And so that’s why it feels so good to be generous, because it is natural. It’s why, even when finances are tight, sometimes the most liberating thing is to give away some money. Even if it doesn’t make financial sense, it makes sense to your soul. There is a video you can find online called “The Generosity Experiment,” and in it the speaker tells the story of living in New York and being constantly barraged with requests for money from charities, street musicians, and beggars. He often said “no,” and realized it was making him closed to other people. So for one month, he resolved to say “yes” to absolutely every single request that he got. And for him, it was saving. It changed his outlook. It changed his relationship to people. It made him more generous.
            In a sense, that’s what the parable that Jesus offers us this morning is pointing to as well. There is the Pharisee who is inwardly focused. He prays about the ways that God has blessed him with privilege, status, and wealth. But his prayer isn’t about the other. It’s absolutely wonderful that he gives a tenth of his income, but that doesn’t make him generous.  At least in this snippet, he doesn’t appear to be concerned with how his giving impacts others; it’s more about duty than generosity.
Meanwhile, the tax collector seems to be outwardly focused, realizing that he needs mercy because he is a sinner. Perhaps you’re familiar with the prayer “Dear Lord, so far I’ve done all right. I haven’t gossiped, haven’t lost my temper, haven’t been greedy, grumpy, nasty, selfish, or overindulgent. I’m really glad about that. But in a few minutes, God, I’m going to get out of bed, and I’m going to need a lot more help.” The thing is, while not impossible, it’s a lot harder to be a sinner when you’re not around people. The tax collector is aware of the ways in which he’s fallen short in his relationships, the ways in which he hasn’t been as generous in spirit or charitable in action as he could have been, and so he comes and asks for mercy. Generosity is about being open to God and others.
As today’s Psalm proclaims “You have anointed my head with oil, and my cup is running over. Surely your goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” These verses will be our refrain for this stewardship campaign. What will your response be to the ways in which God makes your cup overflow with goodness and mercy? Will we keep these blessings for ourselves? Or will we be true to our created nature, to be generous and share these blessings with others?
As we celebrate the Feast of St. Luke today, I think about this parish, and I encourage you to do the same as you fill out your pledge card. I think about the fellowship and bonds of affection of this place. I think of way that the church was overflowing with people at Seth Tinsley’s funeral earlier this year. I think of the couples that have been married here this year. I think of the babies, including my own daughter, that have been Baptized into the Body of Christ here. I think of the backpacks that we collected for Communities in Schools, I think of the Sundays that we presented produce from our Community Garden and the Little Red Wagon at Communion, I think of the relief supplies that we are currently collecting for the victims of Hurricane Matthew, and I think of the 15,000 meals that we will pack later today for Stop Hunger Now. I think of the fun of Purely Socials, the grace of the Eucharist, a spiritually-deep Holy Week. I think of a gorgeous church with beautiful music and liturgy. I think of the great staff and wonderful people of St. Luke’s whom I am truly thankful for and privileged to serve. And lest you think that I have a selective memory, I also think of the healthy ways in which we’ve dealt with conflict, the ways in which we strive for reconciliation in times of disagreement. For all these things, I thank God.
When I think of all those things, I realize how important it is for St. Luke’s to not only survive, but to thrive. I want there to be a place where Christian community can exist in the Anglican tradition. I want there to be a place for babies to be Baptized, loved ones to be buried, and couples to be married. I need there to be a place where the Sacraments are celebrated. Sometimes I just need the doors of this church to be open so I can come in and sit and be still and know that God is God.
And so I look forward to filling out our pledge card. I look forward to being able to be generous, as God has made me to be. I look forward to supporting the ministries of St. Luke’s because I am so grateful for this place, and I want others to come to know it. I give God thanks for the opportunity to be generous and to find the liberation and salvation of the Gospel in practices of stewardship.
This Sunday and for the following two Sundays, you are invited and encouraged to think about St. Luke’s, to be generous, and to fill out a pledge card so that we can plan to be the best St. Luke’s that we can be. As you approach the altar to receive the generosity of God’s grace in the Eucharist, you can put your completed pledge card in the designated alms plate as a show of your gratitude for God’s blessings and of your generous pledge. And as you make that pledge, know that your generosity is also generative because it will continue to build up this wonderful community of faith, hope, and love. Amen.

Sunday, October 16, 2016

October 16, 2016 - Proper 24C


In the name of God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
            If you’ve been regular in worship over the past few months, you’ve likely noticed that the Gospel readings have been a lot of Jesus’ teachings. This season of the Church Year, known as Ordinary Time or the Season after Pentecost, is the longest liturgical season of the year. The color that we use is green, symbolizing the growth of the church throughout the year. The Gospel texts that we get in this season are focused on the lessons that Jesus offers. In Advent and Christmas, we focus on the birth of Jesus, in Epiphany we see how Jesus is made known to the world, in Lent we focus on repentance as we move towards the Passion in Holy Week, and Easter is, of course, a season that focuses on the Resurrection. And just as green is a symbol in nature of vitality and growth, this season is one of the lush hope that Jesus offers in his ministry of teaching.

Sunday, October 2, 2016

October 2, 2016 - Proper 22C


In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
            If you’ve been a Christian for more than a few months, you’ve probably noticed that sometimes the faith can seem a bit demanding. You’re supposed to pray, you’re supposed to read the Bible, you’re supposed to work for justice, you’re supposed to give money to the Church, you’re supposed to, by word and deed, share the Good News. Faith though isn’t supposed to be a series of obligations or things to keep you busy. Understood properly, faith is liberating way of life, not a burden of things to do during your life. But still, sometimes our preoccupation with being a “good” Christian can cause stress.

Sunday, September 25, 2016

September 25, 2016 - Proper 21C

Lectionary Readings

In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
            “If you died today, do you know where you’d spend eternity?” There’s a billboard in rural North Carolina that I’ve passed several times through the years that asks just that question. If you haven’t seen that exact billboard, I’m sure you’ve seen one like it. I wonder how that phrase makes you feel? It saddens me to have the love of God so misrepresented, it angers me to have the Gospel reduced to such certainty, it frustrates me to have faith be more about what happens after death than what happens during life, it makes me uncomfortable to be in the judgment rather than the faith business. And yet, after hearing our gospel text from Luke about Lazarus and the rich man, we might find ourselves wondering about that very question. Will we be spending time with Lazarus or the rich man?

Sunday, September 18, 2016

September 18, 2016 - Proper 20C


Almighty God, may you guide us to seek the Truth: come whence it may, cost what it will, lead where it might. Amen.
            To say that was a challenging parable is an understatement. Lest you think that you just need to reread it a few times and it will make more sense, I’ve been doing that all week and it’s still an enigma. When I read commentaries on the passage this week, I noticed that they all seemed to spend more pages on this parable than other Biblical passages, sort of the way when you don’t have an answer you just stammer on, hoping that something might eventually make sense. One scholar even called this the “problem child of parables.” For one, the explanation that is offered by Jesus after the parable doesn’t seem to line up properly with the parable itself.

Sunday, September 11, 2016

September 11, 2016 - Proper 19C


In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
            I’m often surprised at how often the lectionary serves up the right readings for the right occasion. The Scripture readings that we have each Sunday morning aren’t chosen by me, or the Bishop, or really anyone. Rather, there is a three year cycle of readings known as the Revised Common Lectionary, and it’s used by churches around the world – such as Roman Catholics, Presbyterians, Methodists, Moravians, Lutherans, and Episcopalians. The idea is that Christians, regardless of denomination and worship style, are hearing the same readings each Sunday. And it seems more often than not, when there is something happening in our common life, by the Spirit’s guidance, the lectionary gives us Scripture that fits the occasion. Today is one such day of providential alignment.
            Today’s gospel text from Luke is all about being lost. Have you ever been lost? I remember back in seminary, we went to a fall festival with some friends. One of the friend’s young children got separated from the group and was lost. I’m not sure that I’ve ever felt such a sense of panic. But when we found the child, who was safe and unharmed, he had no idea of the panic that his temporary disappearance had caused. For him, being lost didn’t cause any sense of panic, as he didn’t even know that he was lost.
But sometimes being lost is a scarier experience. A few years ago I went to Israel, and had an experience of being lost. The Old City of Jerusalem is a walled city that has been built and rebuilt over thousands of years. As such, sometimes it feels more like a maze than city. I was exploring the city on my own one afternoon, map in hand, and found myself in a part of the city that I didn’t intend to be in. Like most big cities that are ethnically diverse, sometimes tensions are high. There was some sort of scuffle unfolding right in front of me and next thing I knew, someone was picking up a chair and throwing it through a store window. I was lost and very much felt terror.
Have you ever been lost? How did you feel? What was it like to not know where you were or where you were going? Of course, sometimes being lost is more of a metaphorical reality than a literal one. Sometimes after the death of a loved one, we are lost – not knowing what to do next. Retirement can make us feel lost – not being sure how we find our identity which had been tied to our job. When you have to make a decision and struggle to make up your mind, you may describe your situation as feeling lost. We lose all sorts of things: priorities, faith, financial security, health; being lost is a part of the human condition.
That fact that today is the 15th anniversary of September 11th cannot be ignored. September 11th will always be remembered as a day of loss. Three thousand lives were lost that day, not to mention the thousands more that came as a response to the attack. Americans lost a sense of innocence that day as we felt the world that we thought that we knew crumbling. The search went on for days after the attacks, looking in the rubble for those who were lost. Signs went up around Manhattan as family members were searching for loved ones who didn’t come home that night and were lost. Regardless of your political views, September 11th was a day that the world changed and it was a day of profound loss.
As we reflect back on that day, I remember the strong sense of unity that came out of it. Flags were everywhere, but not as signs of nationalism but of unity. Americans put aside their differences in the face of a loss that was bigger than politics or ideology. Republicans and Democrats came together to mourn and to rebuild. Of course there were still disagreements on September 12th. Some thought that a military response would be the wrong one, but still unity overcame division, at least for a while.
And I can’t help but look around at the state of our union and wonder, “what happened?” Any sense of unity that came from that tragedy has been eroded. In his first inaugural address, President Lincoln closed by saying “We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.” Lincoln’s final sentence urged a nation on the brink of war to be touched by “the better angels of our nature.” In the wake of September 11th, our better angels prevailed as we came together as a people. We went out of our way to be kind to each other, because we were all dealing with a sense of loss. We wrestled with ideas, not with each other. It seems though that these better angels have been displaced by old demons.
The thing is, when we are lost and in a panic, we’ll search and search until we find some safety net, something to give us a sense of direction, anything to take away our fear. After September 11th we came together in unity, but soon we found the demons of scapegoats and revenge which have resulted in a seemingly never-ending debacle. And now look at our nation – divided along so many lines in the midst of the most contentious election in generations. We’re lost, and instead of allowing ourselves to be found, we’re alleviating our anxiety with solutions that no longer work in an ever-changing world. We blame “them,” people who are not even in the same room as us and refuse to come together to even sit at the table with each other. Whether it’s #AllLivesMatter vs #BlackLivesMatter, Clinton vs Trump, or Sitting vs Standing during the National Anthem, we’ve become separated from each other and are losing our way.
When I hear these parables by Jesus, I am reminded of ways in which God saves the lost and brings the flock together. The first thing that these parables from Jesus say is that you matter to God. Like the lost sheep or the lost coin, you are worth searching for. You are a unit of God’s grace and love: unpresented, unrepeatable, and irreplaceable. Today we’re having a Baptism, which is great reminder of this to us. Baptism is the Sacrament of belonging. Despite whatever the world says about you or how other people see you, Baptism cements your identity as God’s beloved. So know that you are worth being found.
What’s so interesting about the parable that Jesus tells is that the shepherd not only leaves the 99 to find the one lost sheep, but that the shepherd, that is God, notices that the one is lost. If you have a flock of 100 and one leaves, we might think it’s not a big deal. But to God, it is. The flock is only complete when all are present, and that’s how the church is. I’m so glad that today is the beginning of the program year at St. Luke’s. I hope that you all had wonderful summers at the beach, in the mountains, and on vacation. But I’m glad that summer is over and that you’re back here – that the flock is gathered together. When you’re missing, you are missed. It’s a lesson that could go a long way in our culture – when one person is missing, we all are affected.
Notice in the reading that the act of salvation, of the lost being found is all God’s action. The lost doesn’t have to send up a signal flare, the lost doesn’t have to admit that they wandered off, the lost doesn’t have to earn the search and rescue operation that saves it. Remember that you are never too lost to be found, and neither is anyone else. But consider what this mercy from the shepherd who searches for the lost sheep and carries it home might look like from the perspective of the 99. Perhaps they’ve judged that one lost sheep as a hopeless cause, as a lazy vagabond, as a worthless charity case. But they don’t know that the shepherd loved that sheep so much that the shepherd was willing to leave them all behind to redeem that lost sheep and show it mercy. The thing is, we don’t know all the ways in which God has forgiven, redeemed, and restored those people who we would say are “lost.” So we would do well to remember that none who are loved by God are ever truly lost.
The parables also show us that God is persistent. God will stop at nothing to find us when we are lost. God is relentless in showing mercy and love, and there’s nothing that we can do to stop that: not destroying skyscrapers and not exchanging our better angels for our old demons. There’s a poem written by Francis Thompson called “The Hound of Heaven” which describes God in just that way: as a search hound who pursues us until we are caught up in God’s saving love. The interesting thing about the poem is that the poet was someone who struggled with depression, addiction, and poverty his entire life, and even in this darkness, even when he made his mission running and hiding from God, God didn’t stop seeking him out. Because you matter so much to God, God isn’t going to ever give up on you. You can never cross the line into being unredeemable or not worth finding. How might we have this same persistent passion for doing the work of the Gospel, and living into the better angels of this nation, by chasing after a democracy that works and pursuing liberty and justice for all?
Both of these short parables end with a great celebration, perhaps one that seems preposterously out of proportion with the situation. Consider the lost coin – a woman loses a coin and searches for it. When she finds it, she throws a big party for her family and friends to celebrate finding the coin, presumably by spending the very coin that she found to pay for the celebration. It’s a sense of joy and celebration that defies explanation.
This is what our Eucharistic celebration is all about. When we gather at the altar, all of the sheep are gathered into one flock. Those who of us who have felt lost during the week are found by God’s grace. We are reminded of our worth and value in God’s eyes, and the great lengths that God will go through in order to find us. And the Eucharist also looks forward to that day when all of Creation gathers around the heavenly altar together – when all divisions are ended, when none are lost, when God’s love is known by all. So in that sense, the Eucharist not only reminds us that we have been found in God’s love, it gives us hope that one day the flock will be found all together.
But in the meantime, know that God seeks you out because you are loved by God and you matter to God. Know that if we allow ourselves to be found by God, all wounds can be healed, even the wounds of loss, the wounds of September 11th, and the wounds of partisanship and vitriolic hatred that come from our politics. There is a wonderful invitation to the Eucharistic table that comes from the Celtic tradition of our Anglican heritage, may it be our invitation to be found and healed by God in this Eucharist:
This is the table of Jesus Christ.
It is made ready for those who love God and are loved by God.
So come, you who have much faith and you who have little;
you who have been here often and you who have not been for a while;
you who have tried to follow and you who have failed;
you who have been lost, that you might be found.
Come, for it is Christ who invites us to meet him here and be fed by him.

Sunday, September 4, 2016

September 4, 2016 - Proper 18C


In the name of God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
            One of the challenging aspects in preaching is that we often only get a handful of verses read from each book or letter in the Bible on a Sunday. Often, we miss the larger context of the writing when we only focus in on a small section of it. Today though is different, as our second reading is the entire letter of Paul to Philemon. So let’s take this opportunity to consider a full book of the Bible.