Sermons

Exodus 3:1-15  Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, 45c   Romans 12:9-21  Matthew 16:21-28

Jesus said, “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

I trust that none of us has gotten through this past week without witnessing the reality of God’s children of all shapes and sizes and ages and genders and skin colors offering their lives to save others of the same wide variety of descriptions – no questions asked – God’s children risking their lives to save total strangers who, nevertheless, are their neighbors, in this case, neighbors threatened by the flood waters of Hurricane Harvey. 

I wept at the news coverage of the miles and miles and miles of pickup trucks waiting patiently in line along a Texas interstate towing bass boats and jet skis and anything seaworthy that could maneuver the swirling storm waters and provide safe rescue.  I even have had to rethink my snobbish opinion of the uselessness of obnoxious Monster Trucks – if you travel to the Outer Banks, you have passed the home of the Grave Digger of Currituck County fame.  The tragedy of Harvey is a Monster Truck paradise; riding above the floodwaters, it is the Monster Trucks that are towing the all-powerful military troop carriers out of the muck and mire.

“Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

The outpouring of love and concern in the face of tragedy that we have witnessed this week confirms for us that we must live through this world – not around it or above it.  Those putting their physical lives in danger for the pure unadulterated call to save a life or bring warmth and comfort to those who are suffering bring clarity to the complexity of Jesus’ words that we hear this morning.  We live through the world, understanding a little better each day, as our faith journey carries us along, that losing our lives for the sake of Jesus Christ is the immeasurable blessing. 

All over the world, our military, our law enforcement officers, our fire fighters and EMT’s, and “ordinary” good Samaritans offer their physical lives and wellbeing to save others and, thereby, find the greater blessing.  Perhaps we will be called to risk our lives for the life of another, or perhaps we will be called to give our life in other ways; all of us are called to put aside our human luxuries and self-serving actions that distract our focus from our call to ministry.  In giving our time and talents, in seeking discernment of our calling, we find the greater blessing.

Jesus offers crucifixion to those who follow him.  Jesus refuses to deny the dark side of the world – the dark side of humanity, which is the cost of our discipleship.  God came to earth in the human person of Jesus Christ in order to live through the world – to live and die as all of us live and die – living through the world, acknowledging the tragic dark side of humanity while embracing the light of eternal salvation in Jesus Christ.

In today’s Gospel lesson we read again of Peter – fresh from receiving the Keys of the Kingdom of Heaven as we read last week.  Perhaps Peter is feeling a new sense of boldness, as we read today, Peter rebukes Jesus for speaking openly of his eminent suffering, death, and rising again – all of which would be the necessary culmination of Jesus’ earthly life.  Peter sought to deny the dark side; Peter, quite unaware and innocently, sought to align himself Satan in denying the divine necessity of God’s plan. 

Wouldn’t it have been so much easier and pleasant to continue on with life as the disciples had known it?  Peter and his companion disciples had already given up their previous lifestyles and occupations in order to follow Jesus.  How could Jesus now speak so definitively and fatalistically of suffering and death?  The disciples’ clarity of Jesus’ words would come only after experiencing the darkness of the Crucifixion, which was the necessary element of the Resurrection that would overcome that darkness.

We are all called to ministry – even Monster Trucks have found their calling.  It is not an easy way; Jesus never suggested that it would be easy.  In fact, Jesus made it plain from the beginning that the call to discipleship is costly; there are swirling storm waters waiting to consume us.  As Dietrich Bonheoffer phrased it, “When Jesus calls us, he bids us come and die.” 

When Jesus calls us (and Jesus calls all of us), he bids us die to our old selves, die to our temptation to align ourselves with Satan in denying the reality of the dark side of discipleship, die to our fear of the swirling waters that seek to dissuade our calling to discipleship.  When Jesus calls us, he bids us to live into our salvation by remaining focused on his presence that allows us to keep walking toward him through the storm. 

Paraphrasing Richard Rohr:  God does not love us if we become disciples; God loves us so that we can become disciples.  God does not love us because we risk our lives – physically or otherwise – to save others; God loves us so that we recognize our call and so that we are able to save others in the name of Jesus Christ his Son. 

God’s call is not always as obvious as the “burning bush” was for Moses when he was called to lead God’s people out of bondage in Egypt.  The Apostle Paul reminds us to rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, and persevere in prayer.  Our ministries are as vastly diverse as the sea, and Satan is there to nip at our understanding and perseverance – as he nipped at Peter’s. 

Our neighbors in this community and throughout the world, in Texas and our inner cities and East Asia and the Middle East are suffering.  The time has come to take note of your burning bush, to climb into your Monster Truck and hook up your flat-bottomed boat, and get in line to receive God’s instructions.  “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior will find it.”

Genesis 45:1-15 Psalm 133 Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32 Matthew 15:10-28

On Thursday, Mary Beth and I attended a conference on Alcoholism and Recovery.  One of the keynote speakers is a recovering alcoholic and son of an alcoholic father.  This middle-aged man had become addicted to alcohol by the time he was fourteen.  He credited the Church with the impetus for his recovery.  As a teenager, he had been invited to attend church by a friend’s family.  He had never forgotten being greeted with hospitality, being called by name, and being embraced by that church family.  This experience would plant the seeds that would give him the strength and courage in faith to redirect his life.

This impact of being embraced in unity with God’s people has remained in my thoughts as we consider today’s lessons and as we consider the unsettling environment that seems to prevail in our country.

Time and again through Matthew’s Gospel we encounter biting criticism directed at the Pharisees and other religious leaders.  In our lesson today, Jesus condemns the Pharisees as blind guides leading the blind.  Jesus, throughout his ministry, has his harshest words for these religious leaders called to represent God among the people.  Jesus rebuked them for using their positions to show preference to those of higher social status and to exclude and show contempt for those they considered less favored by God – those who most needed to hear the message of God’s mercy.  As representatives of God, these leaders had distorted the image of God; they had not embraced God’s people; their irresponsibility was inexcusable.

Jesus bravely and consistently confronts the contemptuous actions of the Pharisees, knowing these reprimands will foster the toxic environment of collusion against him.

We, the Church, cannot let this message fall on deaf ears; we need not dismiss Jesus’ harsh words as a message meant for these 1st century religious leaders only.  We digest these words and evaluate our own unjust tactics that distort the message of God’s mercy and exclude those we might consider undesirable.

And, yet, in this strange twist of activity, Jesus seems himself to be caught up in a demonstration of exclusivity.  His words to the Canaanite mother of the demon-possessed daughter are harsh and shocking to us.  As a Canaanite non-Jew, it would not be uncommon for her to be labeled a “dog.”  Gentiles by definition were non-believers, no better than dogs in the eyes of faithful Jews who by law were not to interact with them.  Yet, does Jesus consider her to be a dog?  Does Jesus truly believe that this woman is not entitled to mercy – that only his own people – the Jews – are embraced by God’s mercy?

We could speculate that Jesus responds with extreme satire in an intentional attempt to attract his audience’s attention with his outrageous words – thus making his point in a much more powerful way.  Regardless of Jesus’ motive, he does get our attention, and he raises our apprehension in a way that draws us into the need to seek further understanding.  We immediately tune into the message; we look on in amazement as the woman’s desperate assertiveness prevails over Jesus’ initial refusal to show her mercy; Jesus’ actions are redirected, not just in this encounter but from this point forward.  No longer would the mission be confined to Jesus’ own people to the exclusion of Gentiles.

The message is clear; there is no exclusivity in God’s mercy.  Jesus’ mission as recounted for us by Matthew would, from this point forward, be expanded to the Gentiles – embracing any and all who came seeking redemption and healing.  God, through Jesus Christ has redeemed all creation – all are drawn into the embrace of his mercy.

This message is reinforced in the events of our saga from Genesis in which we find Joseph demonstrating God’s unrestrained mercy when confronted by his brothers.  These were the same brothers who had so cruelly sold Joseph into slavery and convinced his father Israel that he had been killed by a wild beast.  Joseph, carried to Egypt by the slave-trading caravan, had risen to great prominence in the court of the Pharaoh.

The scripture tells us that, as Joseph’s true identity was revealed, the brothers were “dismayed.”  Understandably, they would have reacted with fear when realizing that this high-ranking officer of the Egyptian court was indeed the brother whose life they had sought to destroy.   Now, their lives were held in his hands as he, only, could provide the grain they needed to save the House of Israel from obliteration by famine.

Joseph looked realistically at the past, surely remembering the turmoil he had suffered as the result of the evil deeds of his brothers.  But, Joseph recognized that God had converted these evil deeds into good far beyond human ability or ingenuity.  The culmination of the brothers’ evil deed, converted into God’s good, allowed for Joseph to be the remnant that would preserve his people.  Joseph gave thanks to God for his mercy and, in turn, showed that same mercy to these brothers who had come seeking sustenance.  In a position to seek horrendous retribution, Joseph chose instead to embrace his brothers, restore the broken relationship, and provide the means of a prosperous future for his people.

Joseph could not wipe away the anger and suffering of the past; but, Joseph with steadfast faith in God’s guidance found spiritual healing and growth that led to restorative justice for his brothers.

Jesus’ initial outrageous response to the Canaanite woman draws our attention to our own unjust treatment of others.  As Jesus’ subsequent reaction highlights the turning point in his mission, our own spiritual growth comes to turning points, challenging us to put away our prejudices and embrace one another in unity as God’s children.

These words of scripture carry a pertinent message for us today in regards to the frustrating and frightening events in our country.  The Bible is a living organism; from these words of eternal wisdom, there is constantly refreshed guidance that remains relative regardless of the passing years.

I shutter at the thoughts of the environment that breeds the superficial arrogance and hatred of white supremacists.  In what sort of families and households must these misdirected individuals be reared?  Where was the Church in their childhood?  I’m told they represent far less than 1% of our population; why are they given a voice to inspire violence?

And, I shutter at the sight of non-white youth rushing city streets with their faces taunt with anger and hatred, heavy pieces of chain and crowbars drawn back ready to strike in anticipation of their perceived enemy.  Where did they learn such fear-inspired hatred; who fostered such anger in them; how did they inherit such little value for their lives and the lives of others?  Where are the religious leaders who are called to be representatives of God in the lives of these young people?  We, the Church, bear that responsibility.

Somehow, we must have the courage to take on the task of addressing the true underlying causes of this violence with all parties taking appropriate responsibility for wrong actions.  Like Joseph and his brothers, we cannot erase the evil deeds in our past – whether in our personal family history or our country, and any efforts to do so can only be detrimental.  Rather, we reexamine our history realistically with God’s guidance and we move forward toward spiritual healing and growth.  It’s hard work that must be done; it must be done with open hearts and lowered voices and a willingness to be listeners.

Only the mercy of God through the grace of Jesus Christ can lead us to restorative justice.  Only the mercy of God through the grace of Jesus Christ leads us to embrace one another truly in unity as God’s people now and forever.

Genesis 37:1-4, 12-28
Psalm 105, 1-6, 16-22, 45b
Romans 10:5-15
Matthew 14:22-33

“You of little faith; why did you doubt?”

Our account of Jesus and Peter walking on water would appear to be a miracle account.  Certainly, if you or I were to walk on water we would consider that miraculous.

But, as in so many of our accounts of Jesus’ actions, there is a much deeper meaning and message than simply a demonstration of our Lord performing miraculous actions and deeds.

This evening sea voyage for the disciples as described in our Gospel lesson comes in the immediate aftermath of Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000 men plus many women and children.  We read that Jesus, after the feeding, instructed the disciples to get in the boat and “go to the other side” as he dismissed the crowds and retreated to a quiet place on the mountain to pray.

Thus, as the disciples set out on their evening voyage across the sea, their minds were undoubtedly struggling with the events and signals of the day past.  Mesmerized by Jesus’ teaching, the crowd had remained well up until a time when they would have grown very hungry.  Quite shockingly, Jesus had insisted that the disciples would feed the people.  And so, from the crowd was produced a meager offering of 5 loaves and 2 fish – a remnant of physical sustenance.  Jesus took the loaves and fish, gave thanks for them, blessed them, and gave the loaves and fish in their bounty to the disciples to distribute to the crowd.  All were fed and satisfied and twelve baskets of broken pieces were gathered from that that was left.  From this earthly remnant of sustenance, in the hands of Jesus Christ, freely offered and blessed by God, all were fed and satisfied.

It would seem that walking on water would not be such a big deal in comparison.

As Jesus approached, Peter stepped out of the boat on faith – faith representative of the faith of all the disciples – “little” faith as described by Jesus.  Even so, as long as Peter walked upon that faith, with eyes firmly fixed upon Jesus, his path was clear and sure.  Distracted by the storm, taking his eyes away from Jesus, allowing his anxiety to inhibit his faith, Peter began to sink.

“You of little faith; why did you doubt?”  It was not a quantity or quality of faith that Peter needed to continue his straight path upon the water toward Jesus; it was the faith the size of a mustard seed – a remnant of the faith that had so bountifully fed perhaps 10,000 people on the previous evening.

We look to the preservation of this remnant of faith.  The greatest extent of darkness cannot extinguish the light of one tiny candle.  Our remnant of faith is not to be extinguished.

Evil, death, and sin cannot extinguish the good of God.  The saga of the sons of Israel illustrates this truth.  As we continue our journey through the history of God’s people in our Old Testament lesson from Genesis, we read today of the cruel jealousy-based actions of the older brothers of Joseph – the favored son of Father Israel.

At this point in our story, Jacob has been renamed Israel by God as a sign of the irrevocable covenant between him and God.  Jacob and his wives Leah and Rachel along with their two handmaidens have born twelve sons to Jacob – Father Israel.  Rachel, Jacob’s beloved wife died after the birth of her second son Benjamin; her first son being Joseph; Joseph’s preferential status in the house of Father Israel was overtly obvious.

We remember from our childhood the story of Joseph and the coat of many colors.  The element of the story we likely did not hear about as children was the bitterness and jealous reaction of the other sons of Israel to this favored sibling.  We probably did not focus on the arrogance and irritating cockiness of Joseph who lavished in his superior status as the favored pretty boy of his powerful father.

Our Old Testament lesson describes the brothers’ revenge on Joseph – a cruel and evil scheme.  But, amazingly, the outcome of this cruel scheme will be converted by God’s good into the preservation of the House of Israel.  Joseph, spirited to Egypt by these slave traders, the unwitting vessels of transport, will find himself preserved through faith for the specific purpose as the remnant.  Joseph will remain faithful to the God of his Fathers in spite of the obstacles he will face in Egypt.

As for the disciples, there are storms encountered by Joseph and his brothers; storms are quite common in the lives of God’s people.  But, God will stand by through the storms and the remnant will continue to be preserved by faith.

Jesus does not always calm the storms of our lives, but he never leaves us to weather them alone.

Just as God redeems Jacob and his sons of their evil deeds – taking the evil deeds and bringing good from them, just as God through Jesus reaches his hand out toward Peter to save him from sinking – So, God redeems us through his Son Jesus Christ and, with our eyes firmly fixed on his will, lifts us out of the raging waters of chaos.  In faith, we take that hand that is reaching toward us.

We have only to stay focused on his face in the storms and to take the hand reaching down to us as we are slipping beneath the swirling tempest, only to hear and respond to the most frequent and most difficult demand that God asks of us – Do not be afraid.

The remnant is preserved.  Why do you doubt?  In times like these – in our country, in the world, in the Church, in our family life, hold fast to that remnant that unites us in God’s good; nourish that remnant.  Keep focused on the presence of Jesus Christ with outstretched hands; keep walking toward those outstretched hands.

Exodus 34:29-35, Psalm 99 , 2 Peter 1:13-21, Luke 9:28-36

Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” 

Today is one of the rather rare days in our Church calendar on which we divert from our sequential walk through our Old Testament lessons and our Gospel lesson to celebrate a “non-major” feast of our Lord; every Sunday is a feast of Our Lord.  The Feast of the Transfiguration takes precedence over our weekly Sunday feasts only when its assigned date of August 6 falls on a Sunday.  Thus, we put aside our normal Propers for the day, pull out the white hangings, and focus our attention on this glorious and very significant account in the life and ministry of Jesus Christ.

We refer to this feast as the Transfiguration because Jesus is transfigured.  What is it to be transfigured?

None of us can watch without tears the TV and YouTube clips of surprise encounters between children of our military men and women as they are reunited unexpectedly after a tour of duty.  In every case, the children are transfigured.  I was entranced these last few days as I watched, over and over, the twelve-year-old daughter as she followed her mother quite apathetically through the crowd at the dolphin show at Chicago’s Brookfield Zoo.  I watched in anticipation of her transfiguration as she became aware of the announcement coming over the loud speaker welcoming her father home after nine months in Kuwait.  There he stood in dark blues – but, likely for her, in the glow of a dazzling raiment of white; the apathy evaporated; her expression was indeed transfigured as she rushed into the strong embracing arms of her father.  And, we in the audience were transformed by this demonstration of unrestrained unconditional love and joy.

In our Gospel lesson of Jesus’ transfiguration, the surprise encounter is with Moses and Elijah.  In anticipation, we read in Luke’s Gospel that Jesus leads his disciples Peter, James, and John to the mountaintop.  Throughout the Bible, mountaintops are places to encounter God; figuratively, we continue to speak of mountaintop experiences as those pinpoint-able moments when our lives are changed.

Most familiar is the mountaintop experience of Moses, much earlier in the history of God’s people.  As we read this morning in our lesson from The Exodus, after leading the people of Israel out of Egypt, Moses was called to Mount Sinai to encounter God and receive the Ten Commandments – God’s Law.  When Moses returned to the people after this encounter, his face was shining – he had been transfigured.

Today, as we read from Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is transfigured as he encounters God on the mountaintop, joined there by Moses – the vessel of God’s Law, and Elijah – recognized as the chief vessel of God’s prophetic voice.  Here, Jesus is embodied in the foundation of our human relationship with God – the Law and the Prophets.  Jesus, much like Moses as he descends Mount Sinai, was transfigured.  Luke writes that the appearance of Jesus’ face changed and his clothes became dazzling white.  Jesus was transfigured as he took his equal place among these earthly representatives of God.

But Jesus otherwise remained the same.  Jesus continued to be Jesus Christ – God’s Son, God’s Chosen – as confirmed by the voice of God speaking from the cloud on the mountaintop.  God’s voice instructed the disciples, thusly, to “listen to him.”

This point of Transfiguration is a turning point in Luke’s Gospel message.  In the three synoptic Gospels – Matthew, Mark, and Luke – we confront this turning point – that significant time when Jesus’ focus turns toward Jerusalem  – the necessity and the inevitability of the Cross.

In the early chapters of our Gospel narratives, we travel with Jesus as he calls his disciples, as he teaches and heals, and models the ministry to which we are all called.  But, in each case, there is this turning point, when we, along with the disciples, sense the baton passed to us as it carries the message of the necessity to listen for deeper understanding.  And, we become aware of Jesus’ face turning toward Jerusalem.

On this morning’s mountaintop, we read of Jesus speaking to Moses and Elijah about this earthly departure, which would be accomplished in Jerusalem.  In Matthew, Mark, and Luke we read of only one adult visit to Jerusalem for Jesus – that journey takes place in the last week of Jesus’ earthly life; that journey is toward his earthly death on the Cross, which we always hasten to add is followed by the Resurrection.  Thus, the time is urgent; the disciples must listen and seek clearer understanding.

The Transfiguration changes Jesus’ outward appearance; he is transfigured.  But, it does not and is not intended to change Jesus inwardly.  That change is clearly intended for these companion disciples who now have witness to whom and what Jesus truly is.

Had the message been intended to be left on the mountaintop, Peter would have been called to the task he suggested; he would have built booths of human construction to keep God and his earthly messengers here on the mountaintop – separate from all other.  And, we would be called to believe that God resides only in houses built by human hands and separate from us.

Jesus was not to be housed on the mountaintop, and these disciples were not to leave this revelation boxed up under lock and key high in the sky.

Certainly, not just for the disciples, but for us, it is not simply an outward transfiguration; it is an inward transformation that is expected.  This transformation comes when we go to the spiritual mountaintop to listen and to see Jesus as he really is, clothed in the light of the Messiah, our redeemer – the true Son of God.  But, we don’t leave God boxed up on the mountaintop; God is everywhere.  We are called to come together regularly and frequently here in these houses of God to join in relation with one another, to share our praise and worship, to hear the Word of God, and be transformed into the mission and ministry of Jesus Christ.  Of course, we can’t leave all that here under lock and key – held separate for our return next week.

God is everywhere; God’s story is the story of all of his people; it is one story – from our Creation, through humanity’s Fall into sin and death, through our redemption from captivity in Egypt and our redemption through the saving grace of Jesus Christ – God’s story does not change.

God comes to earth in the human person of Jesus Christ to continue our transformation into faithful people of God – faithful people everywhere – our countenance transfigured by our encounter with God through Jesus Christ our Lord – our lives transformed by our commitment to his mission and ministry as we are embraced into his unconditional loving arms of grace.

And, we bring this mission down from the mountain, sometimes way down into the gutters of reality of daily life.  But, God is there in those gutters; we have been transformed to make known his presence in those gutters.

From the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” 

Genesis 25:19-34  Psalm 119:105-112  Romans 8:1-11  Matthew 13:1-9,18-23

This teaching of Jesus is titled “The Parable of the Sower.”  It is an account that is to be read and reread and reflected upon on a variety of levels and perspectives.  Normally, a parable has one primary point, often demonstrated in a surprising ending.  This “parable” is more of an extended allegory in which we can substitute something or someone for each element of the story.  We could say, for instance, that the sower is God; the seed is the Good News; and the different types of soil represent the ways in which we receive or fail to receive the Good News.

Sometimes we are the soil of a hard-packed path, completely resisting or dismissing the Good News of Jesus Christ, allowing the Evil One to come and snatch away the Gospel message, assuring that it does not take root.  Satan’s greatest fear is for the Gospel message to take root and grow in us and through us.

Sometimes we are the rocky soil; we hear the Good News and are excited to share it.  But, the rocks inhibit the growth of the roots of the message; the roots are frail and shallow.  We haven’t really taken time to listen and commit ourselves to the hard truths of discipleship.  Once back in our daily routine, our enthusiasm fades; we find it difficult to maintain that sense of joy in the face of daily challenges – difficult to hold the darkness along side the light; and we return to complacency; and the devil smiles.

Sometimes we are soil that is overgrown with weeds and thorns.  We all have weeds and thorns in our lives – weeds and thorns that choke out the Gospel message – the message that God loves us and wants the best for us.  Weeds and thorns that choke our joy in life – weeds and thorns of meaninglessness and meaningless habits that distract us from daily prayer, Bible study, and worship, and choke out meaningful relationships with our family members and neighbors.  How the devil does love that crabgrass with its prolific roots that strangle the flowerbeds of mission and ministry.

The good soil is what we seek to be – good soil – hearing the message, opening our hearts and minds to the message, seeking to understand it more deeply, and bearing fruit – a hundredfold – bearing fruit, so that, in turn, we sow the seeds of God’s goodness everywhere we go.

Ah, it appears that being the good soil leads to taking on the role of sower for ourselves.  Let’s look at this parable of the sower from this different perspective.  Let’s suppose God intends for us to be the sower.  After all, how does the Good News of Jesus Christ get sowed without us to do the sowing?

The sower in our parable seems a little foolish doesn’t he?  Why would he cast his valuable seed on a hard path packed down by the many steps of frequent passersby?  Why waste good seed by throwing them among the rocks and the weeds? Why not just seek out the good soil for the sowing of our seed?

The Jacob of our First Lesson from Genesis doesn’t seem to be good soil worthy of the sower’s seed.  We have followed our Old Testament saga from the first patriarch Abraham through his son Isaac, and now, today, to the birth of Isaac and Rebekah’s twins Jacob and Esau.

As we note from the scripture, the brothers have been mired in conflict and competition since even before their birth.  Esau is the first of the twins to be born; yet, it will be Jacob who will carry the legacy begun by his grandfather Abraham’s covenant with God.  Jacob, however, appears to be a schemer, a blackmailer, who extorts his brother’s rightful claim to the principal inheritance.

Why would God choose Jacob over Esau to be the one to carry forth the heritage of his people?  Yes, Jacob’s scheme to capitalize on his brother’s hunger is cruel and selfish.  But, at the same time, Esau doesn’t put up much of a fight.  He seems very willing to sell the birthright for a quick and easy solution to a temporary problem – dismissing the responsibility of his heritage for a bowl of beans.

Perhaps God saw that Jacob, in spite of his unseemly actions, had what it took to carry the responsibilities that would be placed on him as the one chosen to carry forth the legacy of God’s word.  God’s ways are higher than our ways.  We are not meant, for now, to understand the mystery of God’s redemption of creation; God redeems Jacob just as he does each of us.

What is obvious is that God did sow his seed in Jacob.  Jacob would go on to make his own covenant with God.  Jacob would go on to be the father of all Israel, the father of the twelve sons who would become the fathers of the Twelve Tribes of Israel still, effectively, in existence to this day.

Just so, time and again, God takes the cruel and selfish and unseemly and uses it for his good.  God takes the hard-packed soil and the rocky soil and the soil infested with weeds and he makes them good soil.

An important bit of information that relates to our parable of the sower is that it was typical in first century Palestine to sow the seed first and then to plow it into the soil.   If we are going to be the sowers we must also follow through to plow the seed into the soil – to see that the seed has the greatest possibility to take root and produce a hundredfold.  God, we will see, has yet to do some plowing and tending of the soil of Jacob’s life.

God, the sower, has tossed upon us the gift of his grace.  God intends for us to be the good soil, and in being the good soil, to produce a hundredfold and, then, become sowers ourselves, helping each other to be the good soil.  We are not to turn our backs on the soil that appears to be hard-packed or rocky or overrun with weeds.  Sowing the seed is the beginning; God calls us to plow as well – plow and tend and keep seeking the yield – a hundredfold.

Genesis 18:1-15, (21:1-7) Psalm 116:1, 10-17 Romans 5:1-8 Matthew 9:35-10:8(9-23)

‘My Lord, if I find favor with you, do not pass by your servant.’  [Genesis 18:3]

The nineteenth century missionary Hudson Taylor is credited with the statement, “God isn’t looking for people of great faith, but for individuals ready to follow Him.”

Father Abraham followed; Father Abraham is known as the first patriarch.  Our Old Testament lesson describes the visit of three men addressed by Abraham as “My Lord.”  We could speculate that this is an encounter with the Holy Trinity – One God in 3 persons.  Nevertheless, hospitality was of paramount importance in the culture of Abraham’s day.  Great sacrifice is made to provide comfort and sustenance for visitors who appear unannounced. 

These are quite special visitors who brought life-changing news to Abraham.  In due season, they announce, Abraham and Sarah, at advanced age beyond childbearing years, would become the parents of a son.  This child about whom our Old Testament lesson speaks is Isaac.  Isaac would become the father of twins – Jacob and Esau.  Jacob will steal the birthright and become Father Israel Thus, it would be Jacob who would carry on the patriarchal legacy; he would become the father of the Twelve Tribes of Israel that exist until this day.  As the song says, “Father Abraham had many sons.”

Why would God have chosen Abraham in this very special way?  What were his credentials?  We know, and we will read in the coming weeks as the saga continues, that Abraham would become recognized as the epitome of faith – we speak of Abrahamic faith.  Abraham trusted God’s lead regardless of the sacrifice he would be called upon to make.

“God isn’t looking for people of great faith, but for individuals ready to follow Him.” 

Why would God have chosen Abraham?  Why had Jesus chosen each of these twelve ordinary-seeming men to be his disciples?  We know very little about any of these twelve; like Father Abraham, they come with sparse resumes.  As we read about them in our Gospel lessons every week, they seem to stumble and fall a lot much like we do.  Yet, we read from Matthew’s Gospel this morning that Jesus gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness.

[Jesus’ concern at this stage in his ministry is for his own people – the Jewish people; that concern will evolve to include all people of all nations as Matthew’s Gospel continues.]

We know relatively little about these 12 disciples listed here except that they were individuals ready to follow Jesus wherever that might lead.

The Apostle Paul confirms that our faith is not rated by quality or quantity.  In his letter to the Romans, Paul’s message is clear.  It is a message for the ages:  Our justification is through the grace of Jesus Christ; we neither deserve our salvation nor can we earn our salvation.  The only necessary element is faith – a readiness to follow.

Our earthly fathers, whom we celebrate today, come with or without all sorts of credentials and resumes.  Recognizing that mothers often must be fathers as well – and sometimes fathers must be mothers – with all political correctness considered, the reality is that our earthly fathers create for us our image of God. 

What an enormous responsibility!!  We adults are “gods” in the eyes of the children around us.  Earthly fathers even have the same name with which we refer to our heavenly Father. 

None can doubt the correlation between the presence of a fatherly relationship and the reduced rates among youth, particularly males, of incarceration, suicide, behavioral disorders, and school drop out.  We mothers do our best, but nothing substitutes for at lease some form of the authority, discipline, protection, and unconditional love of father – the image of our Heavenly Father.  For fathers everywhere, fathers ready to follow the will of our Heavenly Father, fathers seeking to live up to their responsibility to be the earthly representative of our Heavenly Father – for all fathers we offer our prayers and we give thanks.  There are few earthly gifts that surpass the gift of an earthly father who demonstrates for us unconditional love – the unconditional love of our heavenly Father, the willingness to follow God’s will.

“God isn’t looking for people of great faith, but for individuals ready to follow Him.”

In closing, I share this prayer appropriate for this theme and this occasion of Fathers’ Day.  It is from the 19th century monk, Brother Charles of Jesus:

Father,

I abandon myself

into your hands;

do with me what you will.

Whatever you may do

I thank you;

I am ready for all,

I accept all.

Let only your will

Be done in me

And in all your creatures,

I wish no more than this,

O Lord.

Into your hands

I commend my soul;

I offer it to you

With all the love of my heart,

For I love you Lord,

And so need to give myself

Into you hands,

Without reserve,

And with boundless confidence,

For you are my Father.

Amen

‘My Lord, if I find favor with you, do not pass by your servant.’

Genesis 1:1-2:4a 2 Corinthians 13:11-13 Matthew 28:16-20 Psalm 8

The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.

Many years ago, on an “ordinary Sunday,” as was our tradition, our family attended worship at the Church of the Good Shepherd in Raleigh.  It was the day of a baptism; I have no recollection of the identity of the child being baptized; in fact, I don’t remember anything else about the service except for one particular seemingly simple, mostly unnoticeable incident on that day that carried a profound message of welcoming embrace – a slice of life on which I continue to reflect especially as it relates to our baptism. 

The baptismal font at the Church of the Good Shepherd is (or was) in a small raised niche to the far right of the main altar.  At all baptisms the children in attendance are invited to come and gather around the baptismal font for a close up view of the baptismal sacrament. 

On this day, as the celebrant gathered the children into a circle around the font, two preteen girls in their summer gingham were standing side by side with their backs to the congregation.  Getting settled, one of the two glanced back to see another girl of similar description approaching.  She drew in her breath and her eyes brightened at the sight of another friend coming forward.  Tapping the shoulder of her circle mate, she pointed discreetly to the approaching friend; her whispered words were clear to anyone watching closely, “Look who’s here!”  The delight of all three was palpable as the circle parted, the friend was embraced into the circle, and the attention of all turned once again to the focus of the celebration as yet another of God’s children was baptized into the Body of Christ.

We find similar theological reflection of even greater welcome and embrace into the kingdom in the Holy Trinity, which we celebrate today on this principal feast of the Church.  In one example, this welcome and embrace is depicted in the fifteenth century Russian icon by Andrei Rublev entitled “The Holy Trinity.”  The famous quite familiar icon depicts three rather primitive characters with rudimentary angel wings seated on three sides of a square table.  The characters obviously share mutual respect and affection; they are three distinct characters yet their wings are overlapping as they are united in relationship by their mission symbolized in their shared presence at the table.

Significantly, the fourth side of the table – the seat open to the viewer – has no occupant.  This fourth side remains open for the viewer; one could perceive that the other occupants are gazing expectantly toward the empty seat; these three seated at the table invite the viewer to join and complete their circle.  I love imagining one in the group whispering to the others, “Hey, look who’s here!’ as each of us is welcomed and embraced into the sacred setting – the fourth who completes the circle of God in three persons – each of us as the fourth within the relationship of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit – the Holy Trinity.

The doctrine of the Holy Trinity – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – was not known to the Apostle Paul or even, in these terms, by Jesus.  The doctrine of the Holy Trinity was not conceptualized until centuries after the earthly life of Jesus and the Apostle Paul.  Yet, Paul, at the conclusion of his second letter to the people of Corinth, expressed his understanding of the three persons of the Holy Trinity as he ended with the beautiful benedictory words, “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” 

And, similarly, Jesus in his last words to the disciples commissioned them to go into all the world, making disciples of all nations, baptizing in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. 

The doctrine of the Holy Trinity was conceptualized by the early Church as Christians began more and more to seek a clearer understanding of their relationship with God – finding their place at the table.  As our faith journey leads us to greater depths, we seek a more tangible understanding of what it is to be God’s children.  How is it that God desires and provides what is best for us?  In the most basic simple terms we glory in the one inseparable God who, through the grace and mercy of the Father, creates us; who, through the Son, redeems us; and who, through the Holy Spirit, sustains us.

The three persons of the Holy Trinity depicted by Rublev do not sit at a tiny separated table with their attention and their gaze trained upon one another, ignoring all else as if their purpose is serving one another.  The three wait expectantly, beckoning each of us to join them – to complete the circle – to open our lives to the love of God the Father, our creator; the grace of Jesus Christ, our redeemer; and the communion of the Holy Spirit, our sustainer.   

All three were present in God at creation.  As we read this morning in the account of creation, God’s breath swept across the formless void, separating the dry land from the waters and day from night, bringing light to the darkness, bringing life to every plant yielding seed and to all creatures of the air, land, and sea.  And, then, one the 6th day, God created humankind – as we are created we are embraced by God’s glorious creation that awaits us, AND we are given responsibility for the care of all creation.

The three persons of the Holy Trinity embrace each of us as the three meld together into one God.  Like the rainbow, we cannot distinguish endings or beginnings; they meld into one another and embrace us into their eternal existence.

In our baptism by water and the Holy Spirit, we are embraced into the Body of Christ.  Our place at the table is a place of welcome and, therefore, a place of responsibility.  In his last earthly words to his disciples, Jesus leaves to all of us the Great Commission: Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey all things that I have commanded you.  And behold, I am with you in all ways and for all time, to the end of the age.” 

Trinity Sunday

 Numbers 11:24-30 Acts 2:1-21 John 20:19-23 Psalm 104:25-35, 37

Jesus said, “Peace be with you.  As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”  When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.  [John 20:23]

Pentecost has come; we celebrate the presence of the Holy Spirit in every element of creation.  The spirit finds us and speaks to us wherever we are, in whatever language we understand.  The Holy Spirit embraced this eclectic group of followers gathered on this Day of Pentecost, which is described for us in our lesson from the Acts of the Apostles.  The Holy Spirit comes in the very same Breath of God that created the world. 

Listen!  Do you hear the Breath?  Do you feel the presence of the Holy Spirit – bringing you peace; inspiring you to follow the will of God in all that you do?  Be still mind; be still heart – for just a moment.  The Holy Spirit surrounds us, embraces us; the Holy Spirit is seeking to speak to you.

Yikes!!  There is something in all of us that is a little fearful of the movement of the Holy Spirit.  We ARE known as the “Frozen Chosen.”  Best to stay busy and not risk any odd sensations of spiritual direction.  Pentecostalism is an “ism” we prefer to avoid exploring.  It carries connotations of lots of noise and strange actions that frighten us. 

In reality, though, being open to the Pentecostal presence of the Spirit requires quietude.  That’s scary too!  What do we do with quiet?

Disappointingly, I learned on Tuesday that my Yin Yoga class was being cancelled.  Attendance had waned and the class is no longer viable.  My only classmates on Thursday were a 6’7” lean Marine and a very young-looking Naval officer retiring this month.

Yin Yoga is a slow-paced Yoga in which participants hold stress-reducing poses for several minutes.   In my case, I was led into a full hour of quiet meditation while allowing muscles and joints a gentle healthy morning stretch.  Oh, well, it couldn’t last.  My guess is that attendance waned because quietude and relaxation are undervalued. 

Our lives are so stressfully full, we have no time to devote to intentional healthy stress reduction through quietude and stillness.  Simply put, we are too stressed to reduce stress; we fear quietude.

Bearing this concern, my attention was attracted to an article in a newsletter from Jackson-Feild Behavioral Health Services regarding “comfort rooms.”  Jackson-Feild began as a facility to care for children orphaned by the yellow fever epidemic of the mid-1800s.  The foundation has evolved over the decades to keep their mission current in addressing the ever-changing critical needs of children.  Today, JFBHS’s primary mission is directed toward the specific needs of children affected by severe trauma and abuse.  Our parish supports this effort with yearly contributions and I encourage you to go to the website for more information about this significant ministry: http://www.jacksonfeild.org .

Toward this effort to address trauma and abuse, the JFBHS article describes the provision of “Comfort Rooms” in JFBHS locations.  The comfort rooms are designed to be places of reduced stress, agitation, and aggressive behavior.  Comfort rooms have come to be recognized as successful avenues for calming aggressive children who might previously have been subjected to seclusion or physical restraint, often leading to further emotional and physical injury. 

Comfort rooms, characteristically, are inviting atmospheres – usually painted pastel green and supplied with chalkboard walls, cozy carpeting and comfortable furniture, relaxing music, and attention-stimulating activities such as puzzles, stress balls, and drawing materials.  The goal is to bring calm through the stimulation of the senses in a healthy manner rather than attempting calm through efforts that stifle the senses – as would restraint or isolation in a bare room.  The comfort rooms provide a safe contained environment in which a child may willingly spend time while developing healthy coping skills through natural processes – thus more safely and successfully reducing aggressive behavior.

This concept of “comfort rooms” is increasingly important for all of us of all ages.  The inability to focus attention for any significant period of time, previously an expectation of youth, now creeps upward into older age groups, promoting more aggressive behavior.  Yet, we get fidgety when we are called into quiet reflection.  No please!  Don’t leave me alone with my thoughts!! 

Being out of reach of our cell phones is a cause for panic.  Look around you when you are stopped at a red light.  Can you find anyone who is not talking on the phone or texting or otherwise fidgeting with an electronic device – double-booking every moment?  Crash statistics indicate these activities are not reserved for stopped traffic.

We all need a “comfort room” – an established space away from “the world” where we are drawn into the quiet, being inspired to experience the presence and direction of the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit is our comfort room – Jesus promised as he was leaving his earthly ministry that he would not leave us comfortless. 

We see this loss of our ability to grasp fleeting moments of quiet and relaxation taking a heavy toll on our society, culminating in ever-increasing anger and aggression in opposition to God’s will for our daily lives.  God through the Holy Spirit is everywhere, but it is good to seek God first in our “comfort rooms” where we can be still and listen to God’s voice through the breath of the Holy Spirit – that same breath that breathed us into creation.  

As the psalmist acknowledges in speaking of God in the Holy Spirit:

You hide your face, and they are terrified;

            you take away their breath,
and they die and return to their dust.

You send forth your Spirit, and they are created;
and so you renew the face of the earth.  [Psalm 104:30-31]

Find your comfort room – your source for the breath of creation.  In that space, we can be still and sense the presence of God’s power as we are embraced in the breath of the Holy Spirit – the Breath of Creation.  Go there for God’s guidance toward peace and relaxation and call to ministry as the Holy Spirit directs us in our relationships with one another.  In the presence of the Holy Spirit, the peace of the world is our path.  Receive the Holy Spirit; peace be with you.

Acts 1:1-11  Ephesians 1:15-23 Luke 24:44-53 Psalm 47

There is a lot of imagery associated with “looking up.”  It’s good when things are “looking up” after we have been through a difficult time. 

If you have posed for a group photo lately, it is likely that the photographer was placed on a higher level, either with a very tall ladder or on some upper landing of a stairs.  All this is to capture you looking up, which is said to be our most photogenic angle.  As I look out onto this audience, I see you looking up, and I can report that you are appearing most photogenic. 

We can imagine that Jesus’ crowd of followers looking up as he ascended to the Father was a most beautiful sight.  Did they wave and blow kisses?  I’m not sure what the proper send off words are for someone who is ascending into heaven.

In preparation for Ascension Day, thinking of looking up, I have had this recurring vision of the hot air balloon carrying the Wizard of Oz as it lifts up above a chaotic and panic-stricken scene.  As the story goes, acknowledging Dorothy’s homesickness and desperation to return home to Kansas, the wizard wants to make amends for his bad behavior.  Thus, he pronounces that he is a balloonist and a Kansas man himself; he pledges to return Dorothy to her home.

The balloon is prepared and the plans ensue, but things don’t quite work out as intended.  As the wizard and Dorothy wave their tearful goodbyes and begin their sensational departure, Toto jumps out of the gondola to chase a cat, and of course, Dorothy jumps out behind him, leaving the wizard alone in the balloon as it rises uncontrollably out of reach above Dorothy and her newfound friends – all of whom are crestfallen that Dorothy’s one means of returning home has been foiled.  They stand looking up in a state of hopeless defeat – their dream lost.

Chaos and panic and hopeless defeat surely were not in the atmosphere of the scene as the disciples stood by while Jesus was carried up into heaven.  In his words recorded in the Book of Acts, Luke adds that a cloud took Jesus out of their sight.  Here, two men in white robes appear, perhaps Moses and Elijah, who had accompanied Jesus at the Transfiguration where they were overshadowed by a cloud through which God spoke.  As we read in 2nd Kings, Elijah himself, had gone to heaven in a whirlwind as Elisha stood looking up – watching and crying and tearing his clothes as his mentor disappeared.  Yet, quite calmly, Elisha picks up the mantle that had fallen from Elijah, the mantle – the mission – that now became Elisha’s mission.

In this scene of Jesus’ Ascension described in our Gospel account, there is no crying or tearing of clothes; Luke describes a setting that is quite calm, a silent suspension of time – no efforts to hold Jesus back.  Yet, as for Elisha we are aware of a critical turning point for these timid followers – a turning point that requires our attention on this day, a turning point critical to our understanding of our calling to Christian ministry – and we are ALL called to ministry. 

Jesus’ last words of instruction had opened the minds of the disciples; they knew this leaving was not hopeless defeat or loss of their dream – that it was, in fact, the beginning of an expanded journey.  Once Jesus was taken up, we are told, the disciples worshipped him and returned to Temple where they praised God.  They understood that Jesus’ ministry was not ending as their leader and teacher ascended into heaven; Jesus’ ministry was now transitioned to those followers who stood looking up.  “Disciples” – students were now “Apostles” – messengers of the Good News.

As Christ ascended into heaven these first followers turned to the mission to which they were called.  This Ascension, which we celebrate today as one of the seven principal feasts of the Church, is not simply a major feast to be celebrated on this 40th day of Easter each year, it is the day that the mantle of the Christian mission is laid before us.  None of our feasts is less emphasized yet more important than Ascension.  Will we pick up the mantle of the Christian mission as Elisha picked up the mantle of Elijah’s mission?

In their state of despair, Dorothy and her friends come to understand that Dorothy has all along within herself the capacity to return home whenever she wishes.  Glenda the Good Witch reveals the power of the ruby slippers, prompting Dorothy to click her heels together and chant: “There’s no place like home.  There’s no place like home.”  Magically, Dorothy is transported back to her bedroom where she looks up into the faces of concerned family and friends.

Our calling to Christian ministry is not quite as simple as clicking our heels together.  But, like Dorothy and Elisha that ability to further the mission is within us; the responsibility is ours; the mantle is handed down to us.  As we are one with Jesus Christ, we carry the Christian mission within us. 

We come together as one Body of Christ sharing in the communion of that Body and Blood that unites us all, regardless of our faith tradition.  We came to gather in this assembly to celebrate the Ascension.  But, we did not simply come to a church to worship on this evening – We ARE the Church; we ARE the Christian ministry as it has been transitioned from that day of the Ascension.

Why do you stand looking up?  There is great joy in our worship and praise.  We move now into the sacred pause of the ten days between Jesus’ earthly departure and the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.  The mantle has been laid at our feet and we go forth to look out onto the ministry to which we are called

Drawing from the words of the Apostle Paul to the Ephesians:  On this blessed feast of the Ascension, with the eyes of your heart enlightened (as you go forward into the reflective quiet of these next ten days), may you know what is the hope to which our Lord has called you, [Ephesians 1:18]