So here we are
So here we are.
Here in Jerusalem.
We have come to the Temple for the Feast of the Passover.
I traveled here with our son and his wife and their new baby.
It was a long journey
but it was important that we come.
Required really.
After the birth of a child,
we as faithful Jews come and offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving.
I wanted to bring a lamb as a sacrifice,
but this has not been a good year for our family.
We have no lambs this year.
The best we could do was two small doves.
That’s acceptable for those of us who are poor.
Even though some look down on us for our meager little offering,
at least we have something we can give.
to celebrate and give thanks for this new child,
this new beginning.
I had not been to the Temple precinct in a long time.
Being her today I can see it has changed.
It sounds more like an open-air market—
calves bellowing, sheep bleating, people yelling,
coins clanging.
So much noise and commotion.
I remembered it as such a holy place.
I grew up hearing the stories that the Temple is important
the Temple is the place where God lives here on earth.
But today?
I am having a hard time believing God would want to live here!
When we offer our doves
they won’t take them.
They say they are blemished
and cannot be used as a sacrifice
We have to buy a new pair of doves--
from one of the sellers here.
They will give us a small fee for the doves we have brought
(I keep silent but why do I have a sneaky suspicion
that our “blemished” doves
will become “unblemished” by tomorrow
and sold to some other poor and weary travelers??!!)
We have to go to the money changers
and change our money into temple currency.
Yes, another transaction fee.
We have to purchase new doves that will be acceptable for the sacrifice.
We can’t use our Roman coins
Because they have pagan images on them.
So the money changers
give us Palestinian shekels
so that we can purchase our new doves
and pay the temple tax.
By the time we pay the tax,
pay the money changers their fee,
buy the new doves,
we have used almost all the money we have.
This means a hard and hungry journey home.
I was praying to God that my heart would not be hardened
against all these using the temple for their own gain, their own greed,
when I heard a loud commotion.
People are screaming—
and running.
There is a man who is shouting angrily.
Who is he? I have seen him before I think.
I know.
He is the man named Jesus.
He was in our village a few months ago.
I only caught a glimpse of him
but my son says that he was healing people—
and not just Jews.
I have heard about his miracles.
Now here he is
and I can see him quite well.
I just didn’t expect him to look like a regular man.
But he does.
Only there is something about him.
Something different.
I don’t know.
His eyes have a way of looking at you
as if he has known you all your life.
I find myself staring at him.
To say he is angry is putting it mildly.
Why, he has a whip!!
My son grabs my arm and guides me away.
He is protective of me and his wife and baby.
Once outside we hear more of what happened that day.
Jesus came and drove all the livestock out of the Temple
and then he started after the people and their coin boxes.
Money was flying in all directions—
and so were the money changers!
I don’t care what people say—
I don’t think Jesus is crazy.
He was just fed up with the way
greed and fraud were taking advantage of people—
and in the Temple of all places.
This Jesus is not afraid to tell the truth.
And act on it.
Apparently when the authorities realized what was happening
they confronted him
and wanted to know what right he had to do such a thing.
I would have been terrified,
but Jesus didn’t back down.
They say he did not make one excuse.
Basically he just said,
“Shame on you for treating people like this.”
“Shame on you for cheating people
and taking advantage of people,
for letting others suffer
so that you can be rich and comfortable.”
When they threatened him,
Jesus said if they destroyed the temple
the temple would be rebuild in 3 days.
Well, that didn’t make sense to anyone (including me!)
After all, the temple’s been under construction for almost 50 years
and it still isn’t really finished.
One of Jesus’ disciples told my son
that Jesus often says things that don’t seem to make a lot of sense.
“But if you wait long enough,” he told my son,
“what Jesus says usually turns out to be spot on.”
Who is this man who fears no one but God?
Who is this man who speaks the truth even when it may cost him his life?
Who is this Jesus?
+ + +
This story of Jesus cleansing the temple
appears in all four gospels.
That tells us it is an important story.
Last week we heard what it means to be a disciple of Jesus.
Dale summed it up well: Be kinder than necessary.
This week we hear what it means to be the Church.
Keep God’s house sacred.
Every detail matters.
Hold one another accountable.
Fight against injustice—
most especially injustice done in the name of God.
Sometimes words are not enough—
some situations call us to act
and to act fearlessly.
Regardless of the suffering we may encounter along our journey,
resurrection will come.
Oscar Wilde once wrote,
If you want to tell the truth, make people laugh.
That way they won’t kill you.
This day in the Temple
no one is laughing--
least of all Jesus.
There is indeed risk and danger if we really begin to be the Church.
We journey deeper and deeper into Lent.
The holy calls us.
God is always faithful to us.
God claims each one of us as his beloved child.
The question is: how do we respond to God’s love for us?
How do we live as followers of Christ?
How do we come together as the Church in a world
which continues to press in upon us,
a world which is often bound and determined
to distract us from the sacred?
It’s not easy but it is simple:
Practice.
Just as basketball players practice and practice and practice
in order to make those free throws or those three point shots—
Just as a musician, in order to play a piece of music with beauty and ease,
practices over and over and over—
Just as a poet writes a hundred poems that wind up the garbage can
before one finds its way into publication--
We are called to practice being a Christian.
We are called to practice being the Church.
We are called to practice every day
loving God and loving one another.
We are called to practice every day telling the truth,
treating our parents and our children,
our friends and yes, even our enemies
with respect.
We are called to practice being generous instead of envious,
To practice forgiving instead of hardening our hearts.
We are called to practice remembering the Sabbath
and keeping it holy.
We all know it is easy to miss a day of practice.
And then a week and then a month and then a year.
Where is the good news in this?
The good news is that we can start again.
The good news is that Jesus
only chased the money changers out of the temple.
He didn’t kill them or destroy them.
Jesus did not seek revenge.
He offered another chance.
Another chance.
Another chance to practice loving God and loving one another.
Another season of Lent to polish up on our rusty, dusty practices.
We are all so blessed.
This is indeed the Good News.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Sermon for Year B Lent 1
Take this bread
Sara Miles begins her book Take This Bread with these words:
One early, cloudy morning
when I was forty-six,
I walked into a church,
ate a piece of bread, took a sip of wine.
A routine Sunday activity for tens of millions of Americans—
except that up until that moment
I’d led a thoroughly secular life,
at best indifferent to religion,
more often appalled by its fundamentalist crusades.
This was my first communion.
It changed everything.
It changed everything, she writes.
I think I have read this first paragraph of her book
about fifty times this week.
It is the heart of our worship as Episcopalians.
Communion.
It changes everything.
If you look up the word communion in Webster’s Dictionary
you find these definitions:
A condition of civil unrest or insurrection.
No, wait!
That’s not right.
That’s the definition of commotion.
(Not to be confused with communion—
though sometimes our churches and our lives
seem more focused on commotion than communion!)
Communion is defined as :
An act or instance of sharing
A Christian sacrament in which consecrated bread and wine are consumed …as symbols of the spiritual union between Christ and communicant or as the body and blood of Christ
And there’s still a third definition:
Intimate fellowship or rapport
In our reading from Genesis this morning,
God makes a covenant with the people.
God will no longer destroy or cause commotion.
In the beginning God takes the chaos and transforms into communion.
And everything is changed.
In our gospel reading this morning,
Jesus is baptized.
And a voice from heaven calls out,
“You are my Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Every time we come to this communion rail,
every time we take the bread in our hands, the wine to our lips,
we need to listen:
to listen with our hearts.
Listen—
because what God is saying to you and to me
are those same words:
You are my beloved.
With you I am well-pleased.
Now you, like me, may sometimes question that.
You might think,
How on earth can God be well pleased with me this week?
My thoughts, my words my deeds
did not exactly make Jesus proud--
oh, not this week!
But God never abandons communion with us.
God has made a covenant
and that covenant is kept.
God unlike some of us doesn’t get mad and stomp off or pout.
God unlike some of us
doesn’t keep a hawk’s eye waiting to pounce
when some one of us makes a mistake.
No! God has no expectation of our perfection.
God’s expectation is that we will keep trying:
Trying to share more, trying to serve more,
Trying to love one another more
Trying to honor our covenant with God
To take those promises we make in our baptismal covenant seriously.
The good news for all of us is
God is infinitely patiently, abundantly loving.
This week I received news from friends at Holy Trinity Episcopal Church
in Juneau, Alaska.
Their church—
their beautiful historic magnificent church
was completely destroyed by fire in March 2006.
They later learned
that the fire that was purposefully set.
Arson.
By a young man in their community
Who people knew—or thought they knew—
wery well.
When Robert Huber, the arsonist, went to trial
Holy Trinity Episcopal Church asked to speak at that hearing.
Speaking directly to Mr. Huber in the court room,
they bluntly told the truth about the pain and disruption
his destructive act of arson had caused—
in both their congregation and their community.
But they also wanted to forgive.
Not the cheap kind of forgiveness--
“It’s OK, it doesn’t matter—at least no body was hurt.”
Because it did matter and people were hurt—
Not only was the church destroyed
but a neighboring family lost their home as well.
The rector of the parish speaking directly to Robert Huber,
the 24 year old arsonist, said:
“Our church members
want to keep the promises they have made to God.
They want to make flesh and blood the prayer they offer every week:
Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
Mr. Huber,
you can’t make it okay.
But we don’t want to make it worse.
The primary restitution we ask from you is honesty.
Honesty about what you’ve done…
and a change in the way you walk through life
that builds up instead of tears down.
None of us want to be known by the worst we’ve ever done,
and we do not want that for you.
We want your life to mean something more than this trial, this sentencing, this pain you caused us, your parents, and yourself.
We forgive you.”
I assure you this congregation did not come to the ability to forgive easily.
Forgiveness for something this immense does not come
without considerable struggle.
And struggle they did.
For over a year.
But they struggled together.
Holy Trinity struggled in communion,
with communion, through communion.
The power of the Holy Eucharist to heal
Is beyond what we can ever ask or imagine.
But if we abandon our communion with one another,
we choose to remain broken.
This congregation chose communion---and they were able to say:
We forgive you.
The people of Holy Trinity understand covenant with God
and communion with one another.
If a congregation who lost everything
can forgive the man responsible for hurting so many,
perhaps we too can lay aside some of our hurts—
some big, some quite petty.
Lent is the season for repentance and reconciliation.
We like Jesus are driven into the wilderness
to confront our own wild beasts—
yet not to forget
the angels that surround us as well.
Our covenant with God
and our communion with one another
do not rest
on many of the details that we fret about at church
or in our daily lives.
We are easily distracted by what does not really matter.
Covenant and communion are grounded in the holy reality
that we are all ONE BODY.
and that body belongs completely to God.
COMPLETELY to God.
I may only be the big toe,
and you may only be the pinkie finger
and someone else may be this part or that
but to God—
it takes all of us.
We are all God’s beloved
and we are in desperate need of one another.
God knows our weaknesses, our faults and our failures.
God knows that every day
we are assaulted by numerous temptations,
especially the temptation
to believe that we are in control.
Lent is a fine and holy season
to let go of commotion
to embrace communion,
to live more fully
into the covenant
God hopes for each one of us.
As Sara Miles discovered
when she experienced her first communion at age 46,
A piece of bread, a sip of wine.
Communion.
It changes everything.
Sara Miles begins her book Take This Bread with these words:
One early, cloudy morning
when I was forty-six,
I walked into a church,
ate a piece of bread, took a sip of wine.
A routine Sunday activity for tens of millions of Americans—
except that up until that moment
I’d led a thoroughly secular life,
at best indifferent to religion,
more often appalled by its fundamentalist crusades.
This was my first communion.
It changed everything.
It changed everything, she writes.
I think I have read this first paragraph of her book
about fifty times this week.
It is the heart of our worship as Episcopalians.
Communion.
It changes everything.
If you look up the word communion in Webster’s Dictionary
you find these definitions:
A condition of civil unrest or insurrection.
No, wait!
That’s not right.
That’s the definition of commotion.
(Not to be confused with communion—
though sometimes our churches and our lives
seem more focused on commotion than communion!)
Communion is defined as :
An act or instance of sharing
A Christian sacrament in which consecrated bread and wine are consumed …as symbols of the spiritual union between Christ and communicant or as the body and blood of Christ
And there’s still a third definition:
Intimate fellowship or rapport
In our reading from Genesis this morning,
God makes a covenant with the people.
God will no longer destroy or cause commotion.
In the beginning God takes the chaos and transforms into communion.
And everything is changed.
In our gospel reading this morning,
Jesus is baptized.
And a voice from heaven calls out,
“You are my Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Every time we come to this communion rail,
every time we take the bread in our hands, the wine to our lips,
we need to listen:
to listen with our hearts.
Listen—
because what God is saying to you and to me
are those same words:
You are my beloved.
With you I am well-pleased.
Now you, like me, may sometimes question that.
You might think,
How on earth can God be well pleased with me this week?
My thoughts, my words my deeds
did not exactly make Jesus proud--
oh, not this week!
But God never abandons communion with us.
God has made a covenant
and that covenant is kept.
God unlike some of us doesn’t get mad and stomp off or pout.
God unlike some of us
doesn’t keep a hawk’s eye waiting to pounce
when some one of us makes a mistake.
No! God has no expectation of our perfection.
God’s expectation is that we will keep trying:
Trying to share more, trying to serve more,
Trying to love one another more
Trying to honor our covenant with God
To take those promises we make in our baptismal covenant seriously.
The good news for all of us is
God is infinitely patiently, abundantly loving.
This week I received news from friends at Holy Trinity Episcopal Church
in Juneau, Alaska.
Their church—
their beautiful historic magnificent church
was completely destroyed by fire in March 2006.
They later learned
that the fire that was purposefully set.
Arson.
By a young man in their community
Who people knew—or thought they knew—
wery well.
When Robert Huber, the arsonist, went to trial
Holy Trinity Episcopal Church asked to speak at that hearing.
Speaking directly to Mr. Huber in the court room,
they bluntly told the truth about the pain and disruption
his destructive act of arson had caused—
in both their congregation and their community.
But they also wanted to forgive.
Not the cheap kind of forgiveness--
“It’s OK, it doesn’t matter—at least no body was hurt.”
Because it did matter and people were hurt—
Not only was the church destroyed
but a neighboring family lost their home as well.
The rector of the parish speaking directly to Robert Huber,
the 24 year old arsonist, said:
“Our church members
want to keep the promises they have made to God.
They want to make flesh and blood the prayer they offer every week:
Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
Mr. Huber,
you can’t make it okay.
But we don’t want to make it worse.
The primary restitution we ask from you is honesty.
Honesty about what you’ve done…
and a change in the way you walk through life
that builds up instead of tears down.
None of us want to be known by the worst we’ve ever done,
and we do not want that for you.
We want your life to mean something more than this trial, this sentencing, this pain you caused us, your parents, and yourself.
We forgive you.”
I assure you this congregation did not come to the ability to forgive easily.
Forgiveness for something this immense does not come
without considerable struggle.
And struggle they did.
For over a year.
But they struggled together.
Holy Trinity struggled in communion,
with communion, through communion.
The power of the Holy Eucharist to heal
Is beyond what we can ever ask or imagine.
But if we abandon our communion with one another,
we choose to remain broken.
This congregation chose communion---and they were able to say:
We forgive you.
The people of Holy Trinity understand covenant with God
and communion with one another.
If a congregation who lost everything
can forgive the man responsible for hurting so many,
perhaps we too can lay aside some of our hurts—
some big, some quite petty.
Lent is the season for repentance and reconciliation.
We like Jesus are driven into the wilderness
to confront our own wild beasts—
yet not to forget
the angels that surround us as well.
Our covenant with God
and our communion with one another
do not rest
on many of the details that we fret about at church
or in our daily lives.
We are easily distracted by what does not really matter.
Covenant and communion are grounded in the holy reality
that we are all ONE BODY.
and that body belongs completely to God.
COMPLETELY to God.
I may only be the big toe,
and you may only be the pinkie finger
and someone else may be this part or that
but to God—
it takes all of us.
We are all God’s beloved
and we are in desperate need of one another.
God knows our weaknesses, our faults and our failures.
God knows that every day
we are assaulted by numerous temptations,
especially the temptation
to believe that we are in control.
Lent is a fine and holy season
to let go of commotion
to embrace communion,
to live more fully
into the covenant
God hopes for each one of us.
As Sara Miles discovered
when she experienced her first communion at age 46,
A piece of bread, a sip of wine.
Communion.
It changes everything.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Ash Wednesday Sermon
Who’s to Blame?
Terence Grant writes in his book The Silence of Knowing:
“We want to hold something or somebody else
responsible
for our misery,
but unless we choose to be responsible,
we’ll never grow up.
There’s a story about a construction worker.
At lunch time one day on the job, the worker opens his lunch box and says,
“Oh, no, chicken salad again!”
The next day, he has chicken salad again
and reacts in the same way.
The same thing happens on the next day and the next and the next.
Finally a co-worker who has heard these repeated complaints
day after day after day says,
“If you can’t stand chicken salad,
why don’t you get your wife to make you something else for lunch?
The man replies, “I’m not married. I make these lunches myself.”
There’s truth in that story.
We play the victim.
We live as if we’re bruised and battered by this arbitrary world.
We look outside ourselves for the source of our unhappiness,
but we’re looking in the wrong place.
The source, at least for us as adults,
is always within us.”
Who’s to blame?
We don’t have to look far.
The closest mirror usually gives us the truth.
That is one of the great powers of Ash Wednesday.
That startled look
when we see our faces smudged with ash
in the mirror.
Oh! It’s me!
I’m the one with the dirty forehead.
Today is Ash Wednesday. The first day of Lent.
This day in the church is one of hard truth.
Remember that you are dust
And to dust you shall return.
It does not matter who we are,
what we have accomplished in our life,
how much money we make or don’t make,
where we live or what we drive.
We will all one day be just dust.
What matters to God
(and we hear it over and over and over again
in the scriptures--
Old Testament, New Testament, Psalms, Apocrypha
and most assuredly in the Gospels)---
what matters to God
is the love we show to one another.
God truly created us for one purpose: to love one another.
One singular purpose: to love one another.
It is through our learning to love one another
that we learn to love God.
There is absolutely no way that we can love God
without learning to love each other.
Yet we spend so much of our time blaming one another,
complaining about the “chicken salad.”
What a waste!
What a waste for this short, short beautiful time we have to be here.
These ashes that will mark your forehead this Ash Wednesday
are a visible reminder
that life is short.
Remember that you are dust
and to dust you shall return.
We gather today to repent of our sins.
In simple non-religious terminology
we gather and kneel to say,
it IS my fault, God.
I have not respected the dignity of every human being.
I have not resisted evil.
I have thought terrible thoughts about others.
I have said horrid things about others.
I have sat or stood absolutely mute
when others were saying or doing things
I knew were dead wrong.
It’s me.
It’s me, O Lord, standing in the need of your mercy
and your forgiveness.
It’s my own chicken salad that is making me sick.
It is easy to love those we see as our equals—
friends, family, those who love us as much as we love them.
The love for those less fortunate than us also has a certain beauty to it—
to love those who are poor or sick or unlovely.
This is the love of compassion.
To love those who are MORE fortunate than us is more of a challenge.
Some say it takes almost a saint to love in this way.
But the most difficult love of all
is to find in our hearts a way to love those who do not love us,
those who mock us, those who threaten us,
those who talk behind our backs,
even those who hurt us.
But that love is God’s love.
The love for those who love us not
is the love that will truly conquer the darkness.
We are one in the Spirit
We are one in the Lord.
You will know we are Christians
by our love,
by our love.
+ + +
This sermon was inspired by Terence Grant (thanks to the Church of the Savior and their INWARD/OUTWARD emails and also my Frederick Buechner's The Magnificent Defeat.
Terence Grant writes in his book The Silence of Knowing:
“We want to hold something or somebody else
responsible
for our misery,
but unless we choose to be responsible,
we’ll never grow up.
There’s a story about a construction worker.
At lunch time one day on the job, the worker opens his lunch box and says,
“Oh, no, chicken salad again!”
The next day, he has chicken salad again
and reacts in the same way.
The same thing happens on the next day and the next and the next.
Finally a co-worker who has heard these repeated complaints
day after day after day says,
“If you can’t stand chicken salad,
why don’t you get your wife to make you something else for lunch?
The man replies, “I’m not married. I make these lunches myself.”
There’s truth in that story.
We play the victim.
We live as if we’re bruised and battered by this arbitrary world.
We look outside ourselves for the source of our unhappiness,
but we’re looking in the wrong place.
The source, at least for us as adults,
is always within us.”
Who’s to blame?
We don’t have to look far.
The closest mirror usually gives us the truth.
That is one of the great powers of Ash Wednesday.
That startled look
when we see our faces smudged with ash
in the mirror.
Oh! It’s me!
I’m the one with the dirty forehead.
Today is Ash Wednesday. The first day of Lent.
This day in the church is one of hard truth.
Remember that you are dust
And to dust you shall return.
It does not matter who we are,
what we have accomplished in our life,
how much money we make or don’t make,
where we live or what we drive.
We will all one day be just dust.
What matters to God
(and we hear it over and over and over again
in the scriptures--
Old Testament, New Testament, Psalms, Apocrypha
and most assuredly in the Gospels)---
what matters to God
is the love we show to one another.
God truly created us for one purpose: to love one another.
One singular purpose: to love one another.
It is through our learning to love one another
that we learn to love God.
There is absolutely no way that we can love God
without learning to love each other.
Yet we spend so much of our time blaming one another,
complaining about the “chicken salad.”
What a waste!
What a waste for this short, short beautiful time we have to be here.
These ashes that will mark your forehead this Ash Wednesday
are a visible reminder
that life is short.
Remember that you are dust
and to dust you shall return.
We gather today to repent of our sins.
In simple non-religious terminology
we gather and kneel to say,
it IS my fault, God.
I have not respected the dignity of every human being.
I have not resisted evil.
I have thought terrible thoughts about others.
I have said horrid things about others.
I have sat or stood absolutely mute
when others were saying or doing things
I knew were dead wrong.
It’s me.
It’s me, O Lord, standing in the need of your mercy
and your forgiveness.
It’s my own chicken salad that is making me sick.
It is easy to love those we see as our equals—
friends, family, those who love us as much as we love them.
The love for those less fortunate than us also has a certain beauty to it—
to love those who are poor or sick or unlovely.
This is the love of compassion.
To love those who are MORE fortunate than us is more of a challenge.
Some say it takes almost a saint to love in this way.
But the most difficult love of all
is to find in our hearts a way to love those who do not love us,
those who mock us, those who threaten us,
those who talk behind our backs,
even those who hurt us.
But that love is God’s love.
The love for those who love us not
is the love that will truly conquer the darkness.
We are one in the Spirit
We are one in the Lord.
You will know we are Christians
by our love,
by our love.
+ + +
This sermon was inspired by Terence Grant (thanks to the Church of the Savior and their INWARD/OUTWARD emails and also my Frederick Buechner's The Magnificent Defeat.
Dedication of Stations of the Cross
This prayer was written in honor of Penelope Carscaddon, an artist and member of St. John's, and in dedication of the fourteen Stations of the Cross she created and gave to the church:
A Prayer of Thanksgiving for Penelope and for All Artists
Creator God, we give thanks for all your children and today we give special thanks for Penelope and all artists. We give thanks for the way that Penelope’s work—its form, its color, its lines—open us to your mysterious Spirit in new ways. We rejoice in the work of all artists who use their gifts to serve you and praise you.
We give thanks for the multitude of ways you bless us, for the diverse ways you use our hands, our minds, our bodies and our hearts so that we might reflect your loving-kindness and continually deepen our understanding of you.
We give thanks for Penelope and her gifts as an artist and as a beloved child of God. We give thanks for these Stations of the Cross, which will lead us into the journey of Lent which lies ahead. May they bless each person who travels the journey of Christ’s passion as they walk in your Way.
Holy God,
Holy and Mighty,
Holy Immortal One,
Have mercy upon us.
Amen.
The Stations of the Cross were dedicated on February 15, 2009
A Prayer of Thanksgiving for Penelope and for All Artists
Creator God, we give thanks for all your children and today we give special thanks for Penelope and all artists. We give thanks for the way that Penelope’s work—its form, its color, its lines—open us to your mysterious Spirit in new ways. We rejoice in the work of all artists who use their gifts to serve you and praise you.
We give thanks for the multitude of ways you bless us, for the diverse ways you use our hands, our minds, our bodies and our hearts so that we might reflect your loving-kindness and continually deepen our understanding of you.
We give thanks for Penelope and her gifts as an artist and as a beloved child of God. We give thanks for these Stations of the Cross, which will lead us into the journey of Lent which lies ahead. May they bless each person who travels the journey of Christ’s passion as they walk in your Way.
Holy God,
Holy and Mighty,
Holy Immortal One,
Have mercy upon us.
Amen.
The Stations of the Cross were dedicated on February 15, 2009
Sermon for the Feast of St. John Apostle and Evangelist (tr)
The A & E Network
When we hear the letters A & E, put together like that,
we might think of the Arts and Entertainment Network.
but when we hear A & E in the context of the church
we should remember St. John—
St. John
Apostle and Evangelist.
A & E.
This morning we celebrate the Feast of St. John.
The actual designated feast day for St. John is December 27.
But that is a time of year when we are almost feasted out
after the glorious celebrations around Christmas.
So we have transferred that feast to this day.
Our Book of Common Prayer tells us (page 16)
that the feast day of a parish’s patron saint
may be observed on its designated day
or transferred to a Sunday,
except in the seasons of Advent, Lent and Easter.
It’s still the season of Epiphany—
So let the feasting begin for St. John!
I have three questions for us today.
(1) Who was St. John?
(2) Why do we care?
(3) What should we do about it?
First: Who was St. John?
First of all, we need to be sure we have our “Johns” straight.
St. John the Apostle and Evangelist is a different person
than John the Baptist (or Baptizer).
Our John was the son of Zebedee. His mother’s name was Salome.
This rather well-to-do family lived on the shores of the sea of Galilee.
John, with his brother James,
was called by Jesus from being a fisherman
to being a disciple.
Jesus called John to follow and “fish for people”.
And John did just that.
With Peter and James, John became one of three disciples
whom Jesus chose to be with him
at the raising of Jairus’ daughter,
at the Transfiguration,
and in the Garden of Gethsemane.
Yes, even Jesus had an inner circle of friends.
John and his brother James are recorded in the Gospel
as being hotheaded and impetuous.
Don’t you love it how Jesus seldom seeks perfect people?
I find that very comforting!
Jesus nicknames John and James “Boanerges”
which has been translated as “Sons of Thunder”.
I imagine you knew when John and James entered a room.
John may have been Jesus’ closest, dearest friend.
The Gospel names one of the disciples
as “the disciple whom Jesus loved”.
He sits closest to Jesus at the Last Supper,
He receives the care of Jesus’ mother at the cross
and he in turn is given into her care.
And he is the first male disciple
to understand the truth of the empty tomb.
Many believe that John, the Apostle and Evangelist,
is the same John who was the Beloved Disciple.
According to tradition, John later went to Asia Minor and settled in Ephesus,
now in modern day Turkey
(thus our Turkish inspired lunch feast following the service today).
Under the Emperor Domitian,
John was exiled to the island of Patmos.
Based on other historical writings,
it is believed that John died in Ephesus.
He alone of the twelve disciples
is said to have lived to extreme old age
and to have been spared a martyr’s death.
The words traditionally given to John are these:
Little children, love one another.
That is what tradition says he preached over and over:
Little children, love one another.
So now you have at least some of the answer to the first question:
who was St. John.
Why do we care?
First of all, we care because St. John Apostle and Evangelist
is the patron saint of our parish.
It is like knowing your own personal family history;
it is important to know
our saintly geneology as well.
What we don’t know,
or at least what I have not been able to uncover,
is why this particular saint was chosen for this particular parish.
Many of you know that St. John’s began as a church plant
in an area of Asheville that was fields and farmland,
a very rural Haw Creek.
Downtown Trinity Episcopal Church planted a little church right here—
and it was named Trinity Chapel.
That is why the street that leads up to St. John’s is named
Trinity Chapel Road.
Trinity Chapel grew and grew up
and when it gained status as a parish, no longer a mission church,
the congregation chose the name St. John’s.
But why St. John’s?
Were there a bunch of “hot heads” here, “Sons of Thunder”?
It is doubtful that was behind the choice.
Most likely John was selected as the patron saint because
this was a church plant
and for church plants to become viable congregations
they have to seriously do the work of apostles and evangelists.
A church plant begins with a tiny core group of people—
usually no more than 12.
Probably the Bishop asked some folks at Trinity
if they would leave Trinity
and go and plant a church in the Haw Creek neighborhood.
They were called and asked to follow and they answered that call.
If a church plant does not do evangelism—reach out into the community,
invite people to worship,
offer hospitality to strangers—
the church plant will die.
That is not what happened here at St. John’s.
We are still here in the year 2009
It seems clear that St. John’s has a history
of being a part of that historic A & E network:
Apostles and Evangelists.
Finally, question number 3: What should we do about it?
How do we continue to live into the tradition of our patron saint?
We too are called to be apostles and evangelists.
I am not suggesting that we take shifts
down at the corner of Tunnel Road
and New Haw Creek Road
waving a sign that says , “REPENT!”
But I do think we need to take the call that John heard into our hearts.
I do think we need to learn to invite others to come and worship with us.
I do think we need to reach out for those on the margins.
What should we do about it?
Outreach.
Continue to reach out into the community.
Always have our eyes open for those who need our help
and then fearlessly find ways to meet the needs.
What should we do about it?
Inreach.
Continue to go deeper and deeper in our own relationship with God.
Though worship. Through prayer. Through study.
What should we do about it?
Little children, love one another.
Those are the words that probably should be printed on a t-shirt for our parish.
St. John’s Episcopal Church.
Little children, love one another.
One of the gifts of being part of a church is we have a place to practice.
We can practice loving one another right here within the walls of this parish.
We can practice loving one another in outreach projects,
reaching out in the world, both near and far.
We are not called to be perfect.
Even the saints were not perfect.
We are simply called to follow in the footsteps of St. John
who followed in the footsteps of Jesus.
Each day
is another wonderful opportunity to take a step.
St. John, Apostle and Evangelist,
is right here to guide us.
Little children, love one another.
When we hear the letters A & E, put together like that,
we might think of the Arts and Entertainment Network.
but when we hear A & E in the context of the church
we should remember St. John—
St. John
Apostle and Evangelist.
A & E.
This morning we celebrate the Feast of St. John.
The actual designated feast day for St. John is December 27.
But that is a time of year when we are almost feasted out
after the glorious celebrations around Christmas.
So we have transferred that feast to this day.
Our Book of Common Prayer tells us (page 16)
that the feast day of a parish’s patron saint
may be observed on its designated day
or transferred to a Sunday,
except in the seasons of Advent, Lent and Easter.
It’s still the season of Epiphany—
So let the feasting begin for St. John!
I have three questions for us today.
(1) Who was St. John?
(2) Why do we care?
(3) What should we do about it?
First: Who was St. John?
First of all, we need to be sure we have our “Johns” straight.
St. John the Apostle and Evangelist is a different person
than John the Baptist (or Baptizer).
Our John was the son of Zebedee. His mother’s name was Salome.
This rather well-to-do family lived on the shores of the sea of Galilee.
John, with his brother James,
was called by Jesus from being a fisherman
to being a disciple.
Jesus called John to follow and “fish for people”.
And John did just that.
With Peter and James, John became one of three disciples
whom Jesus chose to be with him
at the raising of Jairus’ daughter,
at the Transfiguration,
and in the Garden of Gethsemane.
Yes, even Jesus had an inner circle of friends.
John and his brother James are recorded in the Gospel
as being hotheaded and impetuous.
Don’t you love it how Jesus seldom seeks perfect people?
I find that very comforting!
Jesus nicknames John and James “Boanerges”
which has been translated as “Sons of Thunder”.
I imagine you knew when John and James entered a room.
John may have been Jesus’ closest, dearest friend.
The Gospel names one of the disciples
as “the disciple whom Jesus loved”.
He sits closest to Jesus at the Last Supper,
He receives the care of Jesus’ mother at the cross
and he in turn is given into her care.
And he is the first male disciple
to understand the truth of the empty tomb.
Many believe that John, the Apostle and Evangelist,
is the same John who was the Beloved Disciple.
According to tradition, John later went to Asia Minor and settled in Ephesus,
now in modern day Turkey
(thus our Turkish inspired lunch feast following the service today).
Under the Emperor Domitian,
John was exiled to the island of Patmos.
Based on other historical writings,
it is believed that John died in Ephesus.
He alone of the twelve disciples
is said to have lived to extreme old age
and to have been spared a martyr’s death.
The words traditionally given to John are these:
Little children, love one another.
That is what tradition says he preached over and over:
Little children, love one another.
So now you have at least some of the answer to the first question:
who was St. John.
Why do we care?
First of all, we care because St. John Apostle and Evangelist
is the patron saint of our parish.
It is like knowing your own personal family history;
it is important to know
our saintly geneology as well.
What we don’t know,
or at least what I have not been able to uncover,
is why this particular saint was chosen for this particular parish.
Many of you know that St. John’s began as a church plant
in an area of Asheville that was fields and farmland,
a very rural Haw Creek.
Downtown Trinity Episcopal Church planted a little church right here—
and it was named Trinity Chapel.
That is why the street that leads up to St. John’s is named
Trinity Chapel Road.
Trinity Chapel grew and grew up
and when it gained status as a parish, no longer a mission church,
the congregation chose the name St. John’s.
But why St. John’s?
Were there a bunch of “hot heads” here, “Sons of Thunder”?
It is doubtful that was behind the choice.
Most likely John was selected as the patron saint because
this was a church plant
and for church plants to become viable congregations
they have to seriously do the work of apostles and evangelists.
A church plant begins with a tiny core group of people—
usually no more than 12.
Probably the Bishop asked some folks at Trinity
if they would leave Trinity
and go and plant a church in the Haw Creek neighborhood.
They were called and asked to follow and they answered that call.
If a church plant does not do evangelism—reach out into the community,
invite people to worship,
offer hospitality to strangers—
the church plant will die.
That is not what happened here at St. John’s.
We are still here in the year 2009
It seems clear that St. John’s has a history
of being a part of that historic A & E network:
Apostles and Evangelists.
Finally, question number 3: What should we do about it?
How do we continue to live into the tradition of our patron saint?
We too are called to be apostles and evangelists.
I am not suggesting that we take shifts
down at the corner of Tunnel Road
and New Haw Creek Road
waving a sign that says , “REPENT!”
But I do think we need to take the call that John heard into our hearts.
I do think we need to learn to invite others to come and worship with us.
I do think we need to reach out for those on the margins.
What should we do about it?
Outreach.
Continue to reach out into the community.
Always have our eyes open for those who need our help
and then fearlessly find ways to meet the needs.
What should we do about it?
Inreach.
Continue to go deeper and deeper in our own relationship with God.
Though worship. Through prayer. Through study.
What should we do about it?
Little children, love one another.
Those are the words that probably should be printed on a t-shirt for our parish.
St. John’s Episcopal Church.
Little children, love one another.
One of the gifts of being part of a church is we have a place to practice.
We can practice loving one another right here within the walls of this parish.
We can practice loving one another in outreach projects,
reaching out in the world, both near and far.
We are not called to be perfect.
Even the saints were not perfect.
We are simply called to follow in the footsteps of St. John
who followed in the footsteps of Jesus.
Each day
is another wonderful opportunity to take a step.
St. John, Apostle and Evangelist,
is right here to guide us.
Little children, love one another.
Sermon for Year B Epiphany 5
“Every day is a great day now”
Every day is a great day now.
Those might be the words of Simon’s mother-in-law
after Jesus heals her.
In our modern day world of medicine
we usually don’t take a fever all that seriously.
But this was not the case in the first century.
People could die from a fever.
We hear the story as part of Mark’s gospel
because it is another example of a healing miracle performed by Jesus.
No less amazing than causing demons to come out of amn.
Simon’s mother-in-law is healed.
Every day is a great day now.
Actually those are not the words of Simon’s mother-in-law.
Those are the words of Gerry McNamara, a friend of a friend of my brother.
This friend, an attorney like my brother, was on the US Airways flight
that crashed into the Hudson River.
You likely know that everyone—all 155 passengers and crew—
survived that crash.
Gerry McNamara shared his experience with the members of his firm
And some friends
And my brother emailed me a copy
of what Gerry wrote about that experience.
His email was titled: Every day is a great day now.
I share this story with you
Because I believe it directly relates to our gospel reading today.
And I will get to that.
But first, listen to this story.
Listen to it with parallel ears—
Hear the story of Gerry McNamara’s experience.
Hear the story of Simon’s mother=in=law.
Hear, perhaps, your own story of a time
when you have received a second chance.
Here is the story:
Thursday was a difficult day for all of us at the firm
and I left the Park Avenue office in the early afternoon
to catch a cab bound for LaGuardia Airport.
I was scheduled for a 5 pm departure,
but able to secure a seat on the earlier flight
scheduled to leave at 3 PM.
As many of us who fly frequently often do,
I recall wondering if I’d just placed myself
on a flight I shouldn’t be on!
I remember walking on the plane and seeing
a fellow with grey hair in the cockpit
and thinking,
“That’s a good thing—I like to see grey hair in the cockpit!”
I was seated in 8F,
on the starboard side window and next to a young business man.
The New York to Charlotte flight
is one I’ve taken what seems like hundreds of times over the years.
We take off north over the Bronx and as we climb,
turn west over the Hudson River to New Jersey and tack south.
I love to fly, always have,
and this flight plan gives a great view of several NY landmarks
including Yankee Stadium and the George Washington Bridge.
I had started to point out items of interest to the gentleman next to me
when we heard a terrible crash---
a sound no one ever wants to hear while flying—
and then the engines wound down to a screeching halt.
10 seconds later, there was a strong smell of jet fuel.
I knew we would be landing
And thought the pilot would take us down no doubt to Newark Airport.
As we began to turn south I noticed the pilot lining up on the river—
still—I thought—en route for Newark.
Next thing we heard was “Brace for impact!”—
a phase I had heard many years before an active duty Marine officer
but never before on a commercial air flight.
Everyone looked at each other in shock.
It all happened so fast we were astonished!
We began to descend rapidly and it started to sink in.
This is the last flight. I’m going to die today.
This is it.
I recited my favorite Bible verse, prayed the Lord’s Prayer,
and asked God to take care of my wife, children, family and friends.
When I raised my head I noticed people texting their friends and family—
getting off a last message.
My Blackberry was turned off and in my trouser pocket…
no time to get at it.
Our descent continued and I prayed for courage to control my fear
and help if able.
I quickly realized that one of two things was going to happen,
neither of them good.
We could hit by the nose, flip and break up, leaving few if any survivors,
bodies, cold water, fuel.
Or we could hit one of the wings and roll and flip with the same result.
I tightened my seat belt as tight as I could possibly get it
so I would remain intact.
As we came in for the landing,
I looked out the windows
and remember seeing the buildings of New Jersey,
the cliffs of Weehawken, and then the piers.
The water was dark green and sure to be freezing cold.
The flight attendants were yelling in unison, “Brace! Brace! Brace!”
It was a violent hit—the water flew up over my window—
but we bobbed up and were all amazed we remained intact.
There was some panic—people jumping over seats
and running towards the doors,
But we soon got everyone straightened out and calmed down.
There were a lot of people that took leadership roles in little ways.
Those sitting at the doors over the wing did a fantastic job…
they were opened in a New York second!
Everyone worked together—
teamed up and in groups to figure out how to help each other.
I exited on the starboard side of the plane,
3 or 4 rows behind my seat
through a door over the wing
and was, I believe the 10th or 12 person out.
I took my seat cushion as a flotation device
and once outside saw I was the only one who did…
none of us remembered to take the yellow inflatable life vests
from under the seat.
We were standing in 6-8 inches of water and it was freezing.
There were two women on the wing,
one of whom slipped off into the water.
Another passenger and I pulled her back on
and had her kneel down to keep from falling off again.
By that point we were totally soaked
and absolutely frozen from the icy wind.
The ferries were the first to arrive,
And although they’re not made for rescue, they did an incredible job.
The first ferry boat pulled its bow up to the tip of the wing,
and the first mate lowered the Jacobs ladder down to us.
We got a couple of people up the ladder to safety,
but the current was strong,
pushing the stern of the boat into the inflatable slide
and we were afraid it would puncture it..
There must have been 25 passengers in it by now.
Only two or three were able to board the first ferry before it moved away.
Another ferry came up,
and were able to get the woman that had fallen into the water
on the ladder,
but she just couldn’t move her legs and fell off.
Back onto the ladder she went;
however, the ferry had to back away because of the swift current.
A helicopter arrived (nearly blowing us all off the wing)
and followed the ferry with the woman on the ladder.
We lost view of the situation
but I believe the helicopter lowered its basket to rescue her.
As more ferries arrive,
we were able to get people up on the boats a few at a time.
The fellow in front of me feel off the ladder and into the water.
When we got him back on the ladder
he could not move his legs to climb.
I couldn’t’ help him from my position
so I climbed up the ladder to the ferry deck
where the first mate and I hoisted the Jacob’s ladder with him on it..
When he got close enough we grabbed his trouser belt
and hauled him on deck.
We were all safely off the wing.
We could not stop shaking.
Uncontrollable shaking.
The only thing I had with me was my Blackberry,
Which had gotten wet and wasn’t working.
(It started working again a few hours later)
The ferry took us to the Weehawken Terminal in NJ
where I borrowed a phone
and called my wife to let her know I was okay.
At the terminal, first responders assessed everyone’s condition
And sent people to the hospital as needed.
I stayed with my sister on Long Island that evening,
then flew home the next day.
I am struck by what was truly a miracle.
Had this happened a few hours later,
it would have been pitch dark
and much harder to land.
Ferries would no longer have been running after rush hour
and it would not have been the same uplifting story.
Surely there would have been fatalities, hypothermia, an absolute disaster!
I witnessed the best of humanity that day.
I and everyone on that plane survived
And have been given a second change.
I wanted to share this story—the story of a miracle.
I am thankful to be here to tell the tale.
There is a great deal to be learned including:
Why has this happened to me?
Why have I survived
and what am I supposed to do with this gift?
For me, the answers to these questions and more will come over time,
but already I find myself being more patient and forgiving,
less critical and judgmental.
For now I have 4 lessons I would like to share:
1. Cherish your families as never before
and go to great lengths to keep your promises.
2. Be thankful and grateful for everything you have
and don’t’ worry about the things you don’t have.
3. Keep in shape. You never know when you’ll be called upon
to save your own life,
or help someone else save theirs.
4. When you fly, wear practical clothing.
You never who when you’ll end up in an emergency
or on an icy wing in flip flops and pajamas or high heels
and of absolutely no use to yourself or anyone else.
Thanks to all you have reached out…I look forward to seeing you soon!
That is one person’s story of a day that he thought would be his last day.
He was give a second chance.
And now every day is a great day.
Simon’s mother-in-law was given a second chance.
She was saved from a fever, an illness, that could have ended her life.
In Jesus, we see the very best in humanity.
Someone who takes time to help someone who needs help.
The best of humanity reaches out and touches and heals.
We all know that not everyone gets a second chance,
Not everyone is saved from disaster.
That is the part we do not understand.
That is where our ways are not God’s ways,
God’s mind is not our mind.
But often we say that miracles like those in the Bible
don’t happen any more.
Perhaps we only need to open our eyes.
Miracles do happen.
A plane lands in the Hudson River and everyone—EVERY ONE---survives.
God works through Jesus.
God works through a pilot on a USAirways flight.
But not just through the pilot—
through everyone—the flight attendants, the passengers,
the ferry boat crews, first responders, every one.
God works through you and through me.
In ways we cannot ask or imagine.
When we see life—daily, ordinary life—as the miracle it truly is,
We begin to understand why Simon’s mother-in-law,
When healed,
got up and immediately began to serve.
The Greek work for “serve” in this passage is diakonia.
The same word that is the root of our word deacon.
She served because she was thankful.
She served as a way of showing her gratitude to God.
She served not because it was her duty or anyone’s expectation.
She served because in Jesus she had seen the best of humanity.
She received a second chance.
She did not care that she understood the miracle of her healing
or how it scientifically happened.
She only cared that she had a new day to offer her gifts,
to God and to the people in her life.
Every day is a great day now.
This is how we are called to live.
This is how we are called to serve.
Every day is a great day now.
Those might be the words of Simon’s mother-in-law
after Jesus heals her.
In our modern day world of medicine
we usually don’t take a fever all that seriously.
But this was not the case in the first century.
People could die from a fever.
We hear the story as part of Mark’s gospel
because it is another example of a healing miracle performed by Jesus.
No less amazing than causing demons to come out of amn.
Simon’s mother-in-law is healed.
Every day is a great day now.
Actually those are not the words of Simon’s mother-in-law.
Those are the words of Gerry McNamara, a friend of a friend of my brother.
This friend, an attorney like my brother, was on the US Airways flight
that crashed into the Hudson River.
You likely know that everyone—all 155 passengers and crew—
survived that crash.
Gerry McNamara shared his experience with the members of his firm
And some friends
And my brother emailed me a copy
of what Gerry wrote about that experience.
His email was titled: Every day is a great day now.
I share this story with you
Because I believe it directly relates to our gospel reading today.
And I will get to that.
But first, listen to this story.
Listen to it with parallel ears—
Hear the story of Gerry McNamara’s experience.
Hear the story of Simon’s mother=in=law.
Hear, perhaps, your own story of a time
when you have received a second chance.
Here is the story:
Thursday was a difficult day for all of us at the firm
and I left the Park Avenue office in the early afternoon
to catch a cab bound for LaGuardia Airport.
I was scheduled for a 5 pm departure,
but able to secure a seat on the earlier flight
scheduled to leave at 3 PM.
As many of us who fly frequently often do,
I recall wondering if I’d just placed myself
on a flight I shouldn’t be on!
I remember walking on the plane and seeing
a fellow with grey hair in the cockpit
and thinking,
“That’s a good thing—I like to see grey hair in the cockpit!”
I was seated in 8F,
on the starboard side window and next to a young business man.
The New York to Charlotte flight
is one I’ve taken what seems like hundreds of times over the years.
We take off north over the Bronx and as we climb,
turn west over the Hudson River to New Jersey and tack south.
I love to fly, always have,
and this flight plan gives a great view of several NY landmarks
including Yankee Stadium and the George Washington Bridge.
I had started to point out items of interest to the gentleman next to me
when we heard a terrible crash---
a sound no one ever wants to hear while flying—
and then the engines wound down to a screeching halt.
10 seconds later, there was a strong smell of jet fuel.
I knew we would be landing
And thought the pilot would take us down no doubt to Newark Airport.
As we began to turn south I noticed the pilot lining up on the river—
still—I thought—en route for Newark.
Next thing we heard was “Brace for impact!”—
a phase I had heard many years before an active duty Marine officer
but never before on a commercial air flight.
Everyone looked at each other in shock.
It all happened so fast we were astonished!
We began to descend rapidly and it started to sink in.
This is the last flight. I’m going to die today.
This is it.
I recited my favorite Bible verse, prayed the Lord’s Prayer,
and asked God to take care of my wife, children, family and friends.
When I raised my head I noticed people texting their friends and family—
getting off a last message.
My Blackberry was turned off and in my trouser pocket…
no time to get at it.
Our descent continued and I prayed for courage to control my fear
and help if able.
I quickly realized that one of two things was going to happen,
neither of them good.
We could hit by the nose, flip and break up, leaving few if any survivors,
bodies, cold water, fuel.
Or we could hit one of the wings and roll and flip with the same result.
I tightened my seat belt as tight as I could possibly get it
so I would remain intact.
As we came in for the landing,
I looked out the windows
and remember seeing the buildings of New Jersey,
the cliffs of Weehawken, and then the piers.
The water was dark green and sure to be freezing cold.
The flight attendants were yelling in unison, “Brace! Brace! Brace!”
It was a violent hit—the water flew up over my window—
but we bobbed up and were all amazed we remained intact.
There was some panic—people jumping over seats
and running towards the doors,
But we soon got everyone straightened out and calmed down.
There were a lot of people that took leadership roles in little ways.
Those sitting at the doors over the wing did a fantastic job…
they were opened in a New York second!
Everyone worked together—
teamed up and in groups to figure out how to help each other.
I exited on the starboard side of the plane,
3 or 4 rows behind my seat
through a door over the wing
and was, I believe the 10th or 12 person out.
I took my seat cushion as a flotation device
and once outside saw I was the only one who did…
none of us remembered to take the yellow inflatable life vests
from under the seat.
We were standing in 6-8 inches of water and it was freezing.
There were two women on the wing,
one of whom slipped off into the water.
Another passenger and I pulled her back on
and had her kneel down to keep from falling off again.
By that point we were totally soaked
and absolutely frozen from the icy wind.
The ferries were the first to arrive,
And although they’re not made for rescue, they did an incredible job.
The first ferry boat pulled its bow up to the tip of the wing,
and the first mate lowered the Jacobs ladder down to us.
We got a couple of people up the ladder to safety,
but the current was strong,
pushing the stern of the boat into the inflatable slide
and we were afraid it would puncture it..
There must have been 25 passengers in it by now.
Only two or three were able to board the first ferry before it moved away.
Another ferry came up,
and were able to get the woman that had fallen into the water
on the ladder,
but she just couldn’t move her legs and fell off.
Back onto the ladder she went;
however, the ferry had to back away because of the swift current.
A helicopter arrived (nearly blowing us all off the wing)
and followed the ferry with the woman on the ladder.
We lost view of the situation
but I believe the helicopter lowered its basket to rescue her.
As more ferries arrive,
we were able to get people up on the boats a few at a time.
The fellow in front of me feel off the ladder and into the water.
When we got him back on the ladder
he could not move his legs to climb.
I couldn’t’ help him from my position
so I climbed up the ladder to the ferry deck
where the first mate and I hoisted the Jacob’s ladder with him on it..
When he got close enough we grabbed his trouser belt
and hauled him on deck.
We were all safely off the wing.
We could not stop shaking.
Uncontrollable shaking.
The only thing I had with me was my Blackberry,
Which had gotten wet and wasn’t working.
(It started working again a few hours later)
The ferry took us to the Weehawken Terminal in NJ
where I borrowed a phone
and called my wife to let her know I was okay.
At the terminal, first responders assessed everyone’s condition
And sent people to the hospital as needed.
I stayed with my sister on Long Island that evening,
then flew home the next day.
I am struck by what was truly a miracle.
Had this happened a few hours later,
it would have been pitch dark
and much harder to land.
Ferries would no longer have been running after rush hour
and it would not have been the same uplifting story.
Surely there would have been fatalities, hypothermia, an absolute disaster!
I witnessed the best of humanity that day.
I and everyone on that plane survived
And have been given a second change.
I wanted to share this story—the story of a miracle.
I am thankful to be here to tell the tale.
There is a great deal to be learned including:
Why has this happened to me?
Why have I survived
and what am I supposed to do with this gift?
For me, the answers to these questions and more will come over time,
but already I find myself being more patient and forgiving,
less critical and judgmental.
For now I have 4 lessons I would like to share:
1. Cherish your families as never before
and go to great lengths to keep your promises.
2. Be thankful and grateful for everything you have
and don’t’ worry about the things you don’t have.
3. Keep in shape. You never know when you’ll be called upon
to save your own life,
or help someone else save theirs.
4. When you fly, wear practical clothing.
You never who when you’ll end up in an emergency
or on an icy wing in flip flops and pajamas or high heels
and of absolutely no use to yourself or anyone else.
Thanks to all you have reached out…I look forward to seeing you soon!
That is one person’s story of a day that he thought would be his last day.
He was give a second chance.
And now every day is a great day.
Simon’s mother-in-law was given a second chance.
She was saved from a fever, an illness, that could have ended her life.
In Jesus, we see the very best in humanity.
Someone who takes time to help someone who needs help.
The best of humanity reaches out and touches and heals.
We all know that not everyone gets a second chance,
Not everyone is saved from disaster.
That is the part we do not understand.
That is where our ways are not God’s ways,
God’s mind is not our mind.
But often we say that miracles like those in the Bible
don’t happen any more.
Perhaps we only need to open our eyes.
Miracles do happen.
A plane lands in the Hudson River and everyone—EVERY ONE---survives.
God works through Jesus.
God works through a pilot on a USAirways flight.
But not just through the pilot—
through everyone—the flight attendants, the passengers,
the ferry boat crews, first responders, every one.
God works through you and through me.
In ways we cannot ask or imagine.
When we see life—daily, ordinary life—as the miracle it truly is,
We begin to understand why Simon’s mother-in-law,
When healed,
got up and immediately began to serve.
The Greek work for “serve” in this passage is diakonia.
The same word that is the root of our word deacon.
She served because she was thankful.
She served as a way of showing her gratitude to God.
She served not because it was her duty or anyone’s expectation.
She served because in Jesus she had seen the best of humanity.
She received a second chance.
She did not care that she understood the miracle of her healing
or how it scientifically happened.
She only cared that she had a new day to offer her gifts,
to God and to the people in her life.
Every day is a great day now.
This is how we are called to live.
This is how we are called to serve.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Sermon for Year B Epiphany 3
Repent, Believe, Follow, Fish
We are in the month of January.
It is a new calendar year.
We all know what that means.
Lots of new year resolutions still fresh on the page.
Pick up any January issue of most magazines and you’ll find things like:
Dr. Oz’s 10 step check list for ultimate wellness.
5 things to do to improve your relationships
4 tips for a more beautiful you
7 Home Improvements even YOUR husband can do!
I pondered what kind of magazine front cover
Jesus and today’s gospel reading
might encourage.
Four ways to share the good news
Repent.
Believe.
Follow.
Fish.
Jesus calls us to repent and to believe in the good news.
Jesus calls us to follow and be transformed into fishers of people.
Repent.
Believe.
Follow.
Fish.
The order of those actions is quite fascinating.
This is not necessarily the order we do things in our lives—
or in our churches.
Our tendency is go immediately to work, to start fishing--
long before we have done the work of repenting.
The word repent—metanoia in Greek—means to turn around.
To change. To go a different way.
When Jesus calls us to repent
he is calling us to be transformed into different people.
to let go of our old selves
and to fully embrace our identity as children of God.
Repent.
Let go so that we might become who we really are created to be.
It may sound frighteningly Baptist—
But we really are all sinners.
Sin means anything that separates us from God.
It can be addiction or self-centeredness or anger or hate or jealousy…
Anything.
I saw a bumperstick this week that said:
Humankind. Try being both.
That might be a good first step towards repenting.
Believe.
Jesus is not calling us into doctrine or even discipline.
Jesus calls us to believe in the good news.
To believe that God is good ALL the time.
I had a professor in seminary who taught pastoral care.
He reminded us all semester long to look for God’s goodness
in every situation—in illness, in despair, even in death.
If we open your eyes we will see that God is always present—
in some small gesture, in some random action,
in a person who appears at just the moment you felt that all was lost.
Believe in the good news.
Repent.
Believe.
Follow.
Why do we come to church?
Much of our modern American world doesn’t, you know.
They sleep in. They go to Starbucks for coffee and the NY Times.
Why are we here?
There is no one answer to that question but perhaps the reason
we are here is
because we heard a voice calling us to follow.
Maybe it was the voice of God or angels or maybe it was the voice
of our mother or a neighbor or a friend.
We come together as a community
because that is one of the main lessons in the Bible.
God never encourages lone rangers.
Even Jesus doesn’t set out to do ministry by himself.
IMMEDIATELY Jesus comes and calls others to join him.
Jesus calls Simon and Andrew, John and James.
And over time he will call others
And somewhere along the way he called you
And he called me.
We come to church to be with our brothers and sisters in Christ.
We come to church to listen for how we might follow,
To pay attention to the words and the music and the prayers
And the beauty of this place
And the beauty in each person.
We follow so that we might make the tracks that others will follow.
We follow so that others might find their way as we find ours.
Repent
Believe.
Follow.
Fish.
I will make you fishers of people.
I know I have shared this phrase before==and no doubt I will share it again--
because it is one of my favorites.
The definition of evangelism
is one beggar telling another beggar where to find bread.
That’s the way theologian DT Niles puts it.
If we are transformed by God’s love for us.
If we have eyes and ears and hearts that are open to the good news
so that we can believe in the goodness and mercy of God.
If we have been courageous enough to let go of all that binds us
And follow Jesus,
Then we become fishers of people—
So that we too might share the good news --
The good news that there is room in God’s boat for everyone.
We too become fishers of people
because we feel called by God to share the good news.
Because we feel blessed by God
So much and so abundantly
That we stop paying attention
to people’s faults and shortcomings—
(And yes, we all have those)
And we begin to focus our hearts on the amazing grace
That blesses us all.
But we don’t start with fishing.
We don’t even start with following.
We don’t even start with belief.
We start by repenting.
We start by making changes in our own lives.
We start by opening ourselves to God so that God might turn us around,
transform us, save us.
Jesus did not ask Simon and Andrew and James and John
To add one more task to what they are already doing.
Jesus calls them into a whole new way of being.
Jesus calls them to leave behind, to let go of their old way of life
And be made new, completely changed,
Absolutely transformed.
The recent movie Billy Elliot tells the story of a young boy
growing up in a rather rough and rowdy working class neighborhood in the north of England.
Quite unexpectedly, the boy—Billy Elliot—discovers
that he loves classical dance—and that he is a very fine dancer.
Billy knows his family well enough
to know that his gifts as a dancer
are not going to sit well with his father.
His father cannot understand why any boy would want to dance.
Billy is becoming part of a world that is alien to his father—
And nothing frightens a parent more.
Part of what we dream for our children
Is that they will set out on their own seas,
Go their own ways,
Make their own lives.
Sometimes however when that happens
We are shocked and discover that
Deep inside we rather hoped they would stay close by,
Hug the shore along with us.
It could not have been easy for Zebedee
To watch his own sons, James and John,
Leave him behind
As they set out to follow Jesus.
Yet by the end of the film, Billy Elliott’s father travels to London
and watches his son leap and turn and dance with beauty and joy
and the father takes delight and pride in his son,
in his child Billy.
We don’t know what happens to Zebeddee.
Did he become a follower of Jesus?
Or did he shake his head and turn back to mending his nets?
Just like Andrew and Simon, James and John,
Billy Elliott had to start with change.
He had to embrace a new way of life that was as alien to him
as it was to his father.
Billy had to embrace how God was working in his life in new ways.
He had to see the “good news” that his dancing brought.
Billy had to follow a path
that was not the usual path of boys in his neighborhood
or those in his family followed.
And in the end, it is not only Billy that is transformed
but all those around him
That is what fishing for people is all about.
When we ourselves are transformed
so are those around us.
Fishing requires heading out into the deep water.
The deep water is where we take that long honest look at ourselves
And our own lives.
And deep waters can be terrifying.
But if we don’t go into the deep water our nets will remain empty.
Jesus called THEM.
Jesus calls US.
We travel together.
We sail on deep seas together.
We rest safely in God’s arms together.
We realize how wide open and all embracing those arms are
and we call to others to come into the embrace.
Repent.
Believe.
Follow.
Fish.
We are in the month of January.
It is a new calendar year.
We all know what that means.
Lots of new year resolutions still fresh on the page.
Pick up any January issue of most magazines and you’ll find things like:
Dr. Oz’s 10 step check list for ultimate wellness.
5 things to do to improve your relationships
4 tips for a more beautiful you
7 Home Improvements even YOUR husband can do!
I pondered what kind of magazine front cover
Jesus and today’s gospel reading
might encourage.
Four ways to share the good news
Repent.
Believe.
Follow.
Fish.
Jesus calls us to repent and to believe in the good news.
Jesus calls us to follow and be transformed into fishers of people.
Repent.
Believe.
Follow.
Fish.
The order of those actions is quite fascinating.
This is not necessarily the order we do things in our lives—
or in our churches.
Our tendency is go immediately to work, to start fishing--
long before we have done the work of repenting.
The word repent—metanoia in Greek—means to turn around.
To change. To go a different way.
When Jesus calls us to repent
he is calling us to be transformed into different people.
to let go of our old selves
and to fully embrace our identity as children of God.
Repent.
Let go so that we might become who we really are created to be.
It may sound frighteningly Baptist—
But we really are all sinners.
Sin means anything that separates us from God.
It can be addiction or self-centeredness or anger or hate or jealousy…
Anything.
I saw a bumperstick this week that said:
Humankind. Try being both.
That might be a good first step towards repenting.
Believe.
Jesus is not calling us into doctrine or even discipline.
Jesus calls us to believe in the good news.
To believe that God is good ALL the time.
I had a professor in seminary who taught pastoral care.
He reminded us all semester long to look for God’s goodness
in every situation—in illness, in despair, even in death.
If we open your eyes we will see that God is always present—
in some small gesture, in some random action,
in a person who appears at just the moment you felt that all was lost.
Believe in the good news.
Repent.
Believe.
Follow.
Why do we come to church?
Much of our modern American world doesn’t, you know.
They sleep in. They go to Starbucks for coffee and the NY Times.
Why are we here?
There is no one answer to that question but perhaps the reason
we are here is
because we heard a voice calling us to follow.
Maybe it was the voice of God or angels or maybe it was the voice
of our mother or a neighbor or a friend.
We come together as a community
because that is one of the main lessons in the Bible.
God never encourages lone rangers.
Even Jesus doesn’t set out to do ministry by himself.
IMMEDIATELY Jesus comes and calls others to join him.
Jesus calls Simon and Andrew, John and James.
And over time he will call others
And somewhere along the way he called you
And he called me.
We come to church to be with our brothers and sisters in Christ.
We come to church to listen for how we might follow,
To pay attention to the words and the music and the prayers
And the beauty of this place
And the beauty in each person.
We follow so that we might make the tracks that others will follow.
We follow so that others might find their way as we find ours.
Repent
Believe.
Follow.
Fish.
I will make you fishers of people.
I know I have shared this phrase before==and no doubt I will share it again--
because it is one of my favorites.
The definition of evangelism
is one beggar telling another beggar where to find bread.
That’s the way theologian DT Niles puts it.
If we are transformed by God’s love for us.
If we have eyes and ears and hearts that are open to the good news
so that we can believe in the goodness and mercy of God.
If we have been courageous enough to let go of all that binds us
And follow Jesus,
Then we become fishers of people—
So that we too might share the good news --
The good news that there is room in God’s boat for everyone.
We too become fishers of people
because we feel called by God to share the good news.
Because we feel blessed by God
So much and so abundantly
That we stop paying attention
to people’s faults and shortcomings—
(And yes, we all have those)
And we begin to focus our hearts on the amazing grace
That blesses us all.
But we don’t start with fishing.
We don’t even start with following.
We don’t even start with belief.
We start by repenting.
We start by making changes in our own lives.
We start by opening ourselves to God so that God might turn us around,
transform us, save us.
Jesus did not ask Simon and Andrew and James and John
To add one more task to what they are already doing.
Jesus calls them into a whole new way of being.
Jesus calls them to leave behind, to let go of their old way of life
And be made new, completely changed,
Absolutely transformed.
The recent movie Billy Elliot tells the story of a young boy
growing up in a rather rough and rowdy working class neighborhood in the north of England.
Quite unexpectedly, the boy—Billy Elliot—discovers
that he loves classical dance—and that he is a very fine dancer.
Billy knows his family well enough
to know that his gifts as a dancer
are not going to sit well with his father.
His father cannot understand why any boy would want to dance.
Billy is becoming part of a world that is alien to his father—
And nothing frightens a parent more.
Part of what we dream for our children
Is that they will set out on their own seas,
Go their own ways,
Make their own lives.
Sometimes however when that happens
We are shocked and discover that
Deep inside we rather hoped they would stay close by,
Hug the shore along with us.
It could not have been easy for Zebedee
To watch his own sons, James and John,
Leave him behind
As they set out to follow Jesus.
Yet by the end of the film, Billy Elliott’s father travels to London
and watches his son leap and turn and dance with beauty and joy
and the father takes delight and pride in his son,
in his child Billy.
We don’t know what happens to Zebeddee.
Did he become a follower of Jesus?
Or did he shake his head and turn back to mending his nets?
Just like Andrew and Simon, James and John,
Billy Elliott had to start with change.
He had to embrace a new way of life that was as alien to him
as it was to his father.
Billy had to embrace how God was working in his life in new ways.
He had to see the “good news” that his dancing brought.
Billy had to follow a path
that was not the usual path of boys in his neighborhood
or those in his family followed.
And in the end, it is not only Billy that is transformed
but all those around him
That is what fishing for people is all about.
When we ourselves are transformed
so are those around us.
Fishing requires heading out into the deep water.
The deep water is where we take that long honest look at ourselves
And our own lives.
And deep waters can be terrifying.
But if we don’t go into the deep water our nets will remain empty.
Jesus called THEM.
Jesus calls US.
We travel together.
We sail on deep seas together.
We rest safely in God’s arms together.
We realize how wide open and all embracing those arms are
and we call to others to come into the embrace.
Repent.
Believe.
Follow.
Fish.
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