Mother’s Day Liturgy 2016
Song: Hail Mary, Gentle Woman
After the Entrance Song, a pitcher of water will be poured into the baptismal font.
May this water remind us all of the waters of our birth which brought us life and the waters of baptism that bring us spiritual life.
Opening Prayer: Let us pray:
Holy and Loving God: You call each of us to be mothers, to co-create, birth and nurture love. You call us to be your own, regardless of gender, sexual orientation or vocation and to be parents to the unwanted, to the disenfranchised, to the motherless. Grace us to touch others gently and with full acceptance as a loving mother does her child that we may grow in our ability to love without condition. Amen.
First Reading: Miriam Therese Winter (eucharist with a small “e”)
“This is my body”
The first person to utter the words we associate with Jesus must have been his mother. For nine months they were one body, Mary and her child. Like any mother, surely she said of the new life taking form within her: this is my body!
She would also have watched her newborn baby nursing at her breast and marveled: his is my body, his is my blood, bone of my bone flesh of my flesh. Mary alone can identify with the physical body of Jesus. To her we owe the embodied presence of Jesus in our world. Amen.
Responsorial:
All: Mother God, we thank you for your creative love.
Creative Mother, through all your labors, you bring the light of day and the
beauty of night. Response
Nurturing One, you teach us the joy of love and the healing power of
forgiveness. Response
Divine Parent, you call us forth to become our best selves and empower us
to grow beyond our fears. Response
Eternal Matriarch, you reveal to us our birthright: to be compassionate to all
that is living, embracing our universal family. Response
Second Reading: Philippians 2:1-4
If our life in Christ means anything to you—if love, or the Spirit that we have in common, or any tenderness of sympathy can persuade you at all—then be united in your convictions and united in your love, with a common purpose and a common mind. That is the one thing that would make me completely happy. There must be no competition among you, no conceit, but everybody is to be humble: value others over yourselves, each of your thinking of the interests of others before your own.
Gospel Reading: John 17:20-26
“I do not pray for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all may be one, as you, Abba, are in me and I in you. I pray that they may be one is us, so that the world may believe that you sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one— I in them, you in me—so that they may be made perfect in unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and that you loved them as you have loved me. Abba, I ask that those you gave me may be here with me, so they can see this glory of mine which is your gift to me, because of the love you had for me before the foundation of the world. Righteous One, the world hasn’t known you, but I have; and these people know that you sent me. To them I have revealed your name, and I will continue to reveal it so that the love you have for me may live in them, just as I may live in them.”
Sermon
As you can tell, our theme is unity. I think all of us want that, we yearn for the day when truly “all are one.” It’s typically what all mother’s want. I can remember my mom saying, “Why can’t you all just get along?” That’s a unity statement, a hope for 8 kids to stop arguing and play nice. Anyone who works for unity has a mothering way about them because unity requires patience, wisdom, gentleness and lots of unconditional love. We as human beings don’t tend towards those behaviors without a lot of work. I invite us to look more deeply at how we can be more mothering today on Mother’s Day.
Our first reading is from Miriam Therese Winter, a modern day prophet, a woman who helps us remember the intimate connection between Jesus and his mother Mary. Miriam reminds us that Jesus was a child, a helpless infant, completely dependent on his mother, dependent on her for his very life, just like all of us were. The image of the Madonna with child is seen in every culture. It is relationship at its most basic, and its most essential. We envision a child with its mother, being physically nourished, first in the womb and then at the breast, enabling the child to grow. But we intuit so much more. Mary’s touch, her voice humming lullabies and then words of encouragement, teaching Jesus, keeping him safe. We have no records, no evidence of this except the amazing outcome of her efforts, a man wise and kind who became his fullest self.
Lately I’ve been giving talks on Emotional Intelligence or EQ; some would say EI but I say EQ because it helps to directly contrast it with IQ. We’ve always thought that it was our IQ that determined our fate, our place in life but that belief is starting to change. Now it’s our EQ that is seen as the main determinant for becoming our fullest selves.
Researchers like Daniel Goleman are finding that in order for us to have a high EQ, we must be able to understand ourselves well through self-awareness. Then, when we are more self-aware, we develop our ability to understand others well. This is EQ, having both good self-awareness and then being very intuitive or adept at sensing what others are feeling. That’s what helps us to be most successful in life.
Goleman talks about research being done at Cornell University where mothers and their infants are observed. One of the researchers, Daniel Stern is fascinated by the small, repeated exchanges that take place between mother and child; he believes that the most basic lessons of emotional life are laid down in these intimate moments. Of all such moments, the most critical are those that let the child know her emotions are met with empathy, accepted and reciprocated in a process Stern calls “attunement.” The mother “matches” the baby’s level of emotion over and over, sending a message about once a minute to stay emotionally connected. Once a minute is a lot. Thus begins a lifelong process of relationship and compassion. So, depending on how attuned your mother was, your EQ develops. And it’s not as if it’s an over-and-done process. If your mom wasn’t so “attuned” you will have others in your life who help develop your EQ—good teachers, supervisors, partners, and friends. So I believe that EQ is the basis of compassion, of being able to help build unity.
(If you’re interested, you can google EQ quiz and test your level of EQ. It’s a fascinating test that gives clues as to how to do better and improve your EQ.)
Paul, in his letter to the Philippians, is encouraging the people, these new Christian communities, to be like-minded, to be united in their convictions so that true unity of purpose is achieved. There is deep intention here, his desire that, instead of quibbling over differences they focus on what they have in common.
In John’s gospel, Jesus is praying for unity, that all may be one. I love that he prays aloud, for once, so that his disciples can appreciate what he holds in his heart. It’s a profound gospel passage, one that we should really examine and reflect on because it shows the intimate relationship of Jesus with His creator God. He prays not just for his disciples but for all the “others” who will be shown Jesus through them, that ripple effect of evangelization. That’s us in a long line of succession, We are meant to “pass it on.” We are the new messengers. It is our way of being in relationship with others that will either convey Jesus’ care and compassion or not. That’s quite a huge responsibility. It’s vital to unity. Without us, the message of Jesus, love for all, unity of all cannot be heard or seen or felt.
All of us had a mother. Some of our moms were better at attunement than others. Some of us are still learning how to nurture, how to be in relationship to others. So too we are still learning how to live the message of Jesus, that of compassion and unconditional love. Sadly, the message has gotten very twisted and distorted. Our human tendencies to judge and categorize has interfered with the message of Christ.
On the phone with my mom last week, she was saying that she and dad had heard a priest talk about the fact that there are some good Muslims. “That’s new for dad and me,” she said. And I wish I would’ve responded, “But you were the one who taught me to love all people, mom. Don’t you remember?” How has that message gotten lost? Fear can cloud many minds and cause them to judge rather than love first. Now that we have Donald Trump nearing the White House, I am amazed that Christian men and women support him, even though his “favorite” Bible verse is “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” Hmmm, seems like someone redeemed that very phrase and told us to do differently. Still, Christians will support Trump and we will try to remember how to be Christian.
So today we honor mothers, mothers sometimes in the bodies of men and boys or Muslims and Unitarians and atheists, all those who have a high EQ and respond out of compassion. May we be mindful of our need to move towards unity. It was Jesus’ deepest prayer, his greatest hope. And mothers can help pave the way—even if those mothers are teachers or bus drivers or bartenders—who are aware of the lesson of love, of compassion. When we areattuned to the needs of those around us, our EQ is at its best and the hope for unity becomes a bit more realized in our world. Happy Mother’s Day. Amen
We are an alternative catholic community who share a Eucharistic liturgy together every Sunday. All are welcome! We meet at New Song Episcopal Church, 912 20th Ave., Coralville, IA 52241, every Sunday at 4pm.
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
May 1, 2016
Sunday, May 1, 2016
First Reading: Acts 16:9-15
16:9 During the night Paul had a vision: there stood a man of Macedonia pleading with him and saying, "Come over to Macedonia and help us."
When he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to cross over to Macedonia, being convinced that God had called us to proclaim the good news to them.
We set sail from Troas and took a straight course to Samothrace, the following day to Neapolis, and from there to Philippi, which is a leading city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. We remained in this city for some days.
On the sabbath day we went outside the gate by the river, where we supposed there was a place of prayer; and we sat down and spoke to the women who had gathered there.
A certain woman named Lydia, a worshiper of God, was listening to us; she was from the city of Thyatira and a dealer in purple cloth. The Lord opened her heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul.
When she and her household were baptized, she urged us, saying, "If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home." And she prevailed upon us.
Psalm 67
67:1 May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face to shine upon us, Selah
67:2 that your way may be known upon earth, your saving power among all nations.
67:3 Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you.
67:4 Let the nations be glad and sing for joy, for you judge the peoples with equity and guide the nations upon earth. Selah
67:5 Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you.
67:6 The earth has yielded its increase; God, our God, has blessed us.
67:7 May God continue to bless us; let all the ends of the earth revere him.
Second Reading: Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5
And in the spirit he carried me away to a great, high mountain and showed me the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God. I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb.
And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb.
The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it.
Its gates will never be shut by day--and there will be no night there. People will bring into it the glory and the honor of the nations. But nothing unclean will enter it, nor anyone who practices abomination or falsehood, but only those who are written in the Lamb's book of life.
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. Nothing accursed will be found there anymore. But the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him; they will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And there will be no more night; they need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.
Gospel Reading: John 14:23-29
Jesus answered him, "Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.
Whoever does not love me does not keep my words; and the word that you hear is not mine, but is from the Father who sent me.
"I have said these things to you while I am still with you.
But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.
You heard me say to you, 'I am going away, and I am coming to you.' If you loved me, you would rejoice that I am going to the Father, because the Father is greater than I.
And now I have told you this before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe.
Kathy Kelly, peace maker, delivered a homily.
Because Daniel Berrigan died on Sat. April 30, we read the following for our Eucharistic Meditation
Communion Meditation: Advent Credo by Daniel Berrigan (born 1921)
It is not true that creation and the human family are doomed to destruction and loss—
This is true: For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life;
It is not true that we must accept inhumanity and discrimination, hunger and poverty, death and destruction—
This is true: I have come that they may have life, and that abundantly.
It is not true that violence and hatred should have the last word, and that war and destruction rule forever—
This is true: Unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulder, his name shall be called wonderful councilor, mighty God, the Everlasting, the Prince of peace.
It is not true that we are simply victims of the powers of evil who seek to rule the world—
This is true: To me is given authority in heaven and on earth, and lo I am with you, even until the end of the world.
It is not true that we have to wait for those who are specially gifted, who are the prophets of the Church before we can be peacemakers—
This is true: I will pour out my spirit on all flesh and your sons and daughters shall prophesy, your young men shall see visions and your old men shall have dreams.
It is not true that our hopes for liberation of humankind, of justice, of human dignity of peace are not meant for this earth and for this history—
This is true: The hour comes, and it is now, that the true worshipers shall worship God in spirit and in truth.
So let us enter Advent in hope, even hope against hope. Let us see visions of love and peace and justice. Let us affirm with humility, with joy, with faith, with courage: Jesus Christ—the life of the world.
From Testimony: The Word Made Flesh, by Daniel Berrigan, S.J. Orbis Books, 2004.
Wednesday, May 4, 2016
Fr. Daniel Berrigan's Poem: Some
During Kathy Kelly's talk on Sunday, she shared a poem by the beloved Fr. Daniel Berrigan. Here is the beautiful poem called 'Some'.
Some stood up once, and sat down.
Some walked a mile, and walked away.
Some stood up twice, then sat down.
“It’s too much,” they cried.
Some walked two miles, then walked away.
“I’ve had it,” they cried,
Some stood and stood and stood.
They were taken for fools,
they were taken for being taken in.
Some walked and walked and walked –
they walked the earth,
they walked the waters,
they walked the air.
“Why do you stand?” they were asked, and
“Why do you walk?”
“Because of the children,” they said, and
“Because of the heart, and
“Because of the bread,”
“Because the cause is
the heart’s beat, and
the children born, and
the risen bread.”
Some, by Daniel Berrigan
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Kathy Kelly to speak at Full Circle on May 1
Kathy Kelly is coming to speak at Full Circle this coming Sunday, May 1st. Kathy is a well-known peace activist who will be in Iowa City. We are pleased to be able to host her. Mass will be at 4pm and Kathy will offer her thoughts as our homily. Kathy Kelly (born 1952) is an American peace activist, pacifist and author, one of the founding members of Voices in the Wilderness, and currently a co-coordinator of Voices for Creative Nonviolence. As part of peace team work in several countries, she has traveled to Iraq twenty-six times, notably remaining in combat zones during the early days of both US-Iraq wars. Her recent travel has focused on Afghanistan and Gaza, along with domestic protests against U.S. drone policy. She has been arrested more than sixty times at home and abroad, and written of her experiences among targets of U.S. military bombardment and inmates of U.S. prisons. Please join us for this special event. Directions to FullCircle are on our website www.fullcircleic.com
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April 24, 2016 Fifth Sunday of Easter
April 24, 2016
Fifth Sunday of Easter
Acts 14:21-27, Revelations 21: 1-5, John 13: 31-33, 34-35
In today’s Gospel reading, the theme of love continues to demonstrate the relationship between God and us. Jesus begins by explaining God’s glorification. To glorify someone is to see the great good in them, to love them for that good, and to make that great good known to others. Now this is tricky, but it goes like this. God recognizes the good in Jesus, who is God the Son of Man. The good is all the more evident in the sacrifice Jesus is about to make for us. Jesus is in God and God is in Jesus. Because Jesus is acting out of love for the supreme good, God is glorified in his actions. Jesus is also glorified by God because he is revealing to the world by his actions the mercy and love of God. Jesus is simultaneously glorifying God by being the instrument of God’s mercy and love by means of his being and is glorified at the same time by God. This Gospel notes a shift then between the relationships of God to Jesus to the relationship among the followers of Christ—it is the extension of the relationship among the divine persons of God to the relationship between Christ and us and the relationship that should exist among all of us. Jesus has made the love that exists among the persons of the Trinity to be the love that now exists between Jesus and his followers. We are to see the greater good in our relationships with others and among ourselves. Jesus commands us to make love the rule of law among ourselves—we are to see the great good in our fellow humans, and that good is that they are created in the image of God and saved and sanctified by Christ. We are to love everyone for that good which is in them—to will their good to the point of our own sacrifice if necessary.
Doctrine: Love one another “as I have loved you” Christ is “our model of holiness,” whom we should imitate. The one new commandment we are to obey is love. To love is to will the good of the other through one’s actions, even to the point of sacrifice. It is the gift of self to the other. Love is the essence of every moral law: total love of God, love of neighbor as oneself, the Ten Commandments, the laws of the Church. It is even what is at the basis of every just civil law.
Practical application: How do we live love? How do we make a sincere gift of self to those around us? The answer is imitation of Christ. We learn many, many things by direct imitation, that is, by observing another and doing the same. Sometimes the one we imitate helps us by showing us and explaining things. We have all this when it comes to imitating Christ.
We, as disciples of Jesus, have continually fallen far short in our love for one another as well as in our love for those outside the community of faith. Theological and ethical arguments often descend into personal attacks and name-calling; personal interests often trump the common good of the community; those in need of compassion find judgment instead. Jesus could not be clearer: It is not by our theological correctness, not by our moral purity, not by our impressive knowledge that everyone will know that we are his disciples. It is quite simply by our loving acts—acts of service and sacrifice, acts that point to the love of God for the world made known in Jesus Christ.
I know that there are those who believe that this world is past the point of redemption. Maybe it is. But that is not for you and me to decide. God is the one who began life, and God is the one who will close it. In the meantime, we who have decided to follow Jesus have been given a commandment to carry on in love.
Whenever people who were suffering or in need came to Jesus, Jesus never said, "It is too late. You are not worth saving." Always, Jesus healed them. All they had to do was want to be healed and believe that God wants the world to be healed. If the whole world will not be healed, God still wants whoever will to respond to God's love and find life instead of death.
You and I, who look to Jesus, must allow ourselves to be the instruments of God's grace. Jesus demands that we do more than simply save ourselves. Jesus commanded that we do more. Jesus commanded that we not surrender as long as we live on earth. We are to love our neighbors as ourselves. We are to love even our enemies. We have a commandment—a mission. This earth we live in may be corrupt and filled with the poisons that people pour on it. But it also contains the very goodness with which God created it. It is the only life we know.
Let us work with God on the side of the goodness that God created, rather than write off the world and wait for the end and let the devil take what follows. To love is what Jesus clearly asked us to do. Soon enough, the end will come. Let us not wish for it, but be a working part of the new heaven that Jesus had brought already down upon this earth. After all, we are not yet part of the dead, but, by the grace of God, part of the living.
And while the passage that we read today trips off the tongue in a kind of benign
and comfortable way, “Love one another as I have loved you,” it is a commandment that is easier said than done; easier heard than fulfilled. In fact, I am convinced that it is not only difficult for us to love one another; it was never easy for Jesus to love his disciples. I think it was a trial at times. I think that it was hard for Jesus to love the disciples, not easy. As hard for him as it was for them to love one another. What was hard for him was to see the potential, the possibility of what they might be, and to know that they fell so short. I think it was hard because he knew how much depended on them, and how difficult it would be for them to live up to that. And it was hard because he knew how given to pettiness and jealousy and bullheadedness and sin that they were prone to be, and how far short they fell from the mark.
The disciples were an unlikely lot, several fishermen, a tax collector, a crook who
was the treasurer, a member of a subversive political party, a pair of twins; they didn’t necessarily have a lot in common these folks except for, of course, Jesus, which is why they were like us—basically good, but flawed.
There had been indications all along that the choice of these people was not
without its challenges. The gospels are replete with stories of the disciples’ pettiness, their lack of faith, their inability to pick up the mantle and cast out demons or perform miracles, their backbiting, their jockeying for position. Even Peter couldn’t accept Jesus’ repeated explanation that the Son of Man must, suffer and die, nor could he accept the inclusion of women as Jesus’ disciples. And so he tried to dissuade Jesus from his course of action, which frustrated Jesus no end; enough so that he rebuked Peter, called him Satan, and told him to get out of his way.
The inner circle of James and John, were diminished by the fact that their mother
wanted to get advance seating arrangements for them at the heavenly banquet, a move that left the other disciples jealous and bickering among themselves.
In fact, the words of loving one another come out of Jesus’ mouth immediately following Judas’ departure from the upper room. “Do quickly what you have to do,” Jesus tells Judas, and Judas took the bread from Jesus’ hand, and ran out into the darkness of the night to find his way to the council where they awaited his arrival. The other end of this teaching on love which begins with Judas’ betrayal is Peter’s denial. Jesus no sooner finishes his words to his disciples than they leave the upper room together, making their way to the garden where he is arrested and then stands trial before the high priest. And as he does Peter denies that he even knows Jesus.
Wow, that’s really some kind of love, isn’t it.
But in spite of all that, Jesus loved them. He loved them because he believed that
together they were a sum that was greater than its parts. That together they were better than they were alone. That maybe, just maybe, they might rise above their pettiness and bickering and limitations and achieve something that had the love of God in it. Something that had his love in it and in so doing, they might just love one another.
Somehow it helps me to think that it wasn’t easy for Jesus to love his disciples,
that he had to work at it the way I have to work at it, because all too often I get
discouraged by the frailty and brokenness and painful inhumanity of those whom God has created. It’s easy to blame the victim, to ignore the plight of others, to walk away from the situation. After all, others are not from my group; they’re not my kind—I wouldn’t normally associate with those kinds of people. And then I think that God has and is. That’s the real difference—God has. God has hopes and dreams for all of us. God wants more for us than we have dared to think possible for ourselves. And more importantly, God will not give up on us—God even wants us to love one another as God loves each of us. How has God loved us? Enough to die for us, enough to give his life for our sake; enough to put up with us. If Jesus could love the disciples, in spite of all their painful flaws and disgusting humanity, then we can surely love each other in the same way, in spite of all our flaws.
But then along comes this story of Jesus bookended by betrayal that expresses
Jesus’ best and fondest hope for us, that we love one another as he has loved us. He
thinks we can do it. And it helps me to know that it wasn’t easy, even for him, because it isn’t easy for us. Love one another as I have loved you, he urged us. As I have loved you. With patience, forgiveness, forbearance, peace of spirit, and a willingness to take the bad with the good.
Maybe Jesus had to tell us to do this because on our own we might not try. We
might give up. But for his sake we might attempt it—loving one another.
And who knows, maybe Jesus is right. If we do so, perhaps everyone will know that we are disciples. It’s about as sure a sign as there can be… that we love one another as God has loved us.
I remember this sign or billboard I saw once. It said: “If they were putting Christians on trial would there be enough evidence to convict you?”
What can we do to show our discipleship, to show we are Christians—followers of Christ. How do we serve each other as Christ commanded? Here are some examples that the Bible gives us, and they don’t cost a thing.
Accept others without judgment -- Esteem others [highly regard] no matter their circumstances in life -- Encourage others to be their fullest selves-- Show true empathy to and for others-- Serve one another by showing deference in matters of liberty--Be kind to others-- Speak the truth to others—be honest-- Show compassion toward others
Forgive others-- Comfort others with the hope of Christ-- Live in peace and harmony with others--See and seek the good in others--Pray for others—especially for their success-- Be patient with others-- Refuse to be resentful or hold grudges--Volunteer to help--Fight injustice and discrimination when you see it, and as much more as your imagination will allow because the love Jesus speaks about comes from the spirit and is a gift to us—we only need to express this love by what we do and how we see the world. With the grace of God, we can do it.
Let me leave you with these words from Mother Teresa:
“We know only too well that what we are doing is nothing more than a drop in the ocean. But if the drop were not there, the ocean would be missing something.”
-Mother Teresa
Funeral Mass for Estela Bern Sunday, April 17, 2016
Funeral Mass for Estela Bern
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Opening Song: "Be Not Afraid" (Dufford) # 608
First Reading: Ruth 1: 11, 14-18
But Naomi said, “Return home, my daughters. Why would you come with me? Am I going to have any more sons, who could become your husbands? Return home, my daughters; I am too old to have another husband.” At this they wept aloud again. Then Orpah kissed her mother-in-law goodbye, but Ruth clung to her.
“Look,” said Naomi, “your sister-in-law is going back to her people and her gods. Go back with her.”
But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.” When Naomi realized that Ruth was determined to go with her, she stopped urging her.
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 100
We are God’s people, the sheep of God’s pasture.
Second Reading: Ephesians 4:28, 30-32
Do something useful with your hands, so you can have something to share with the needy. Be on your guard against foul talk. Say only what will give grace to your listeners. Don’t grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Get rid of all bitterness, all rage and anger, all harsh words, slander and malice of every kind. In place of these, be kind to one another, compassionate and mutually forgiving just as God has forgiven you in Christ.
Alleluia
Gospel Reading: Luke 10:30-37
An expert on the Law stood up to put Jesus to the test and said, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit everlasting life?”
Jesus answered, “What is written in the law? How do you read it?”
The expert on the Law replied: “You must love the Most High God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus said, “You have answered correctly. Do this and you’ll live.”
But the expert on the Law, seeking self-justification, pressed Jesus further: “And just who is my neighbor?”
Jesus replied, “There was a traveler going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, who fell prey to robbers. The traveler was beaten, stripped naked, and left half-dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road; the priest saw the traveler lying beside the road, but passed by on the other side. Likewise, there was a Levite who came the same way; this one, too, saw the afflicted traveler and passed by on the other.
But a Samaritan, who was taking the same road, also came upon the traveler and, filled with compassion, approached the traveler and dressed the wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then the Samaritan put the wounded person on a donkey, went straight to an inn and there took care of the injured one. The next day the Samaritan took out two silver pieces and gave them to the innkeeper with the request, ‘Look after this person, and if there is any further expense, I’ll repay you on the way back.’
“Which of these three, in our opinion, was the neighbor to the traveler who fell in with the robbers?” The answer came, “The one who showed compassion.” Jesus replied, “Then go and do the same.”
Homily:
Did you see the stars last night? There was a bright moon too. And it was maybe 70 degrees--a perfect spring night. The kind that makes you ponder some of the mysteries of life. Estela means star so she was very much present too.
So, what is the purpose of a star? Some would say, “nothing.” There is no purpose. Others could get very scientific, “It’s a fixed luminous point in the night sky that reminds us of how the world began.” I tried googling the question and found this:
“To illuminate what was and is our present time continuum. You look up and wonder how far back in time you are going. The light that we see from their small and distant glimmer is as old as our galaxy. The stars are beautiful giants that are one million times brighter than our very own small star we call the sun. Stars are there for a purpose and for what reason is yet to be guessed by one of us in this small but wonderful planet we call earth. Yet we look up and praise the wonderful and stupendous sky with its billions of giants. I can only realize that in our small world and our fragile existence we are actually staring at the face of God.”
Pretty good, right? Staring at the face of God. Stars help to reflect the majesty of God and creation. We wish upon a star to help encourage us and give us hope. When someone dies, we often look up to the stars to connect, to remember and to fix our longing on what we can never fully understand. Stars represent mystery, the unknown and the eternal. Perhaps, that is their purpose.
Estela was all that. She was our quiet sage who would sit in her wheelchair here and listen. At the kiss of peace, we would all take turns bending over to give her a hug or a kiss on her cheek. The smile on her face was priceless. She always said, “Thank you so much,” with just a touch of her native Spanish. Little did we know the powerhouse she was under all that charm.
I last saw Estela on Palm Sunday. She was staying at the Mercy Hospice Unit. I got a call from the chaplain who said that Estela told her that I was her pastor. When I arrived, she was in bed. She appeared to be much more frail than when I had last seen her but no less pleased to see me. She smiled and graciously nodded, her usual acknowledgement of me. I gave her some palm branches and stayed for a short time.
Today’s readings were chosen specifically for Estela. Each of them speaks of her and what she valued. In our first reading, we hear the familiar story of Ruth who chooses to stay with Naomi. She would be a foreigner in a strange land but that was less important than her loyalty to her mother-in-law, her devotion to stay and provide support.
Estela knew what it was like to be a stranger in a strange land. She was born in Mexico but came to the United States to become a nurse, graduating in 1946. Like the light from a star, she was way ahead of her time—a woman who knew the value of education. She wanted to develop her skills to help others, stranger or kin, she was devoted to being of service and taught this to her children and grandchildren. It’s no wonder they are the magnificent people they are.
In Ephesians, our second reading, Paul is speaking to a new Christian community, encouraging them in both doctrine and action. There are many “commands” or instructions that are worthy for us all to consider, being kind and compassionate, not letting anger get in the way of forgiveness. Estela’s favorite advice was to make stars out of scars. So simple and yet so profound. When we are wounded, it is natural to build our own defense, to not reach out for fear of further harm. Estela and Paul are insisting that that is not the way of Christ. With God’s grace, we are encouraged to risk, to have courage so that, not only may we heal, but that we transform our pain into something beautiful, something inspiring and full of light.
I do not know all of Estela’s pain in life. But we were able to witness her courage in the face of chronic illness, when aging becomes its own burden. She remained strong even in the face of weakness, cautious at times but never resigned. That’s star-making kind of stuff.
Finally, we hear the story of the Good Samaritan. The one least likely to offer help, the one who others despise and judge as unworthy, the Samaritan, is the hero. He helps without question. And not just a little. He offers compassion to the full extent of his ability. His example is a challenge to us all, to have the courage to care, regardless of expectations.
Estela had that courage, that sense of what is right. She fostered the virtue of being neighborly to all people. Maybe that’s why she fit in at Full Circle so well. Even in her late 90’s, she had no trouble accepting the Roman Catholic Womenpriest movement. My own parents are in their 80’s and they are much less generative, unable to accept my call. But not Estela. She has been fully supportive of women’s rights, perhaps because she herself experienced racism and sexism. With Estela, I never felt judged or questioned. Rather, her kindness and warmth were evident. The fact that she wanted me to do her funeral is a privilege beyond words. Hers is our first funeral here. We’ve had baptisms, confirmations and even a wedding. Now, it seems fitting that Estela brings us full circle. She is our matriarch. The mother of our fledgling little church.
May we honor her best by committing ourselves to her call—to make this world a better place through service, education and faith, faith that comes alive through our care of others: those who are in need, those who are different, those who we least expect to teach us compassion.
Through Estela’s life, we are reminded of the power of love; that God wants to use us as her hands and feet, her voice and her compassion. Just as the monarch butterflies of her homeland flutter forth from their cocoons each and every year to remind us of resurrection and rebirth, may Estela’s life ever remind us of God’s desire for community through service. May we remember Estela as our special star who very much reflected the face of God. Amen.
I now invite her family to come forward to write her name in the Book of Life.
Offertory Song: "The Servant Song" (Gillard) # 669
Communion Song: "You Are Mine" (Haas) # 649
Communion Meditation: At Peace BY AMADO NERVO
(Creator of himself, of his destiny.)
Very near my sunset, I bless you,
Life because you never gave me neither unfilled hope nor unfair work,
nor undeserved sorrow.
Because I see at the end of my rough way
that I was the architect of my own destiny
and if I extracted the sweetness or the bitterness of things
it was because I put the sweetness or the bitterness in them
when I planted rose bushes
I always harvested roses
Certainly, winter is going to follow my youth
But you didn’t tell me that May was eternal
I found without a doubt long my nights of pain
But you didn’t promise me only good nights
And in exchange I had some peaceful ones
I loved, I was loved, the sun caressed my face
Life, you owe me nothing,
Life, we are at peace!
(Written on March 20, 1915.)
Closing Song: "On Eagle's Wings" (Joncas) # 611
April 3, 2016-Second Sunday of Easter
Second Sunday of Easter
April 3, 2016
First Reading: Acts 5:12-29
12Now many signs and wonders were done among the people through the apostles. And they were all together in Solomon’s Portico. 13None of the rest dared to join them, but the people held them in high esteem. 14Yet more than ever believers were added to the Lord, great numbers of both men and women, 15so that they even carried out the sick into the streets, and laid them on cots and mats, in order that Peter’s shadow might fall on some of them as he came by. 16A great number of people would also gather from the towns around Jerusalem, bringing the sick and those tormented by unclean spirits, and they were all cured.
Second Reading: Revelation 1:9-13, 17-19
9I, John, your brother who share with you in Jesus the persecution and the kingdom and the patient endurance, was on the island called Patmos because of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus. 10I was in the spirit on the Lord’s day, and I heard behind me a loud voice like a trumpet11saying, “Write in a book what you see and send it to the seven churches, to Ephesus, to Smyrna, to Pergamum, to Thyatira, to Sardis, to Philadelphia, and to Laodicea.” 12Then I turned to see whose voice it was that spoke to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lampstands, 13and in the midst of the lampstands I saw one like the Son of Man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash across his chest.
17When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he placed his right hand on me, saying, “Do not be afraid; I am the first and the last, 18and the living one. I was dead, and see, I am alive forever and ever; and I have the keys of Death and of Hades. 19Now write what you have seen, what is, and what is to take place after this.
Gospel Reading: John 20:19-31
19When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” 20After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. 21Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”22When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. 23If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” 24But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came.25So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
26A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” 27Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” 28Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” 29Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”30Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. 31But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.
Sermon:
As many of you know, my daughter-in-law, Sonia, is now in Humjibre, Ghana. It’s a small village of about 3,000 people. She is the Health Education Coordinator for a non-profit that is helping mothers during their pregnancy and then stays with them until the child is two years old. It’s her way of saving the world, or so she thought. I spoke with her this week, because I can simply call her right up, amazing. She said she was having doubts about her work there. Even in a place so clearly in need, where she thought she would be able to put her idealism into practice, she is frustrated. First it is sweltering hot, all the time. It averages 95 degrees and she sweats through her clothes every single day. This time of year, avocados are in season which sounds wonderful until you eat them every single day for every meal. Mangos will soon be in season. Again, every day every meal. Even something as delicious as mangos could lose its thrill if you had to eat it all the time. She said that the flies are horrible; so persistent. Sonia sleeps under a mosquito net at night and often the power goes out so the one fan they have to move the air stops working. You get the idea. Reality has set in and she is longing for the basics of America. She said, “Maybe Matt and I will find a small house all by itself and I’ll learn how to make cheese and we can live happily ever after.” It's a pleasant fantasy for now but, she is concerned that eventually she would grow weary of that as well. Doubt has led her to fully reconsider what it is she wants to do with her life.
Today we have Thomas who had his doubts about the whole resurrection thing. Every Sunday after Easter we hear about Doubting Thomas. We shine the light on the dark side of being human, after we have just celebrated the light. In our daily conversations, we even use the expression, “Don’t be a Doubting Thomas” to caution anyone who would question or doubt. Poor Thomas. He gets such a bad rap when really he’s probably the most honest of all the disciples. It’s not like they didn’t have doubts! After all, they were still locked in the upper room when Jesus came back to see Thomas. But it’s always easier to scapegoat someone that to admit to our own fears, right?
Thomas was the same disciple earlier who had the courage to ask Jesus to explain himself when he said, “In my father’s house are many rooms. I am going there to prepare a place for you and if I go there, I will come back to take you to be with me.” I read this often at the bedside of a dying patient to help reassure the family that there is a “place”, an afterlife to where we will go after we die. But Thomas didn’t get it. He said, “We don’t know where you are going. How can we know the way?” To which Jesus replies, I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the father except through me.” Not that that made it much more clear but at least Thomas had more clarification (instead of just assuming).
Here he is again, after all hope has been dashed, trying to understand. And the amazing thing is, his doubt, his questioning causes Jesus to come back again, just for him. Jesus had already seen the other disciples so he could have just figured that that was enough. But for Thomas, Jesus reappears. He comes through the locked doors because nothing can stop him now—no barriers, no locks. And Jesus allows Thomas to probe his wounds. This is perhaps the most fascinating part of Thomas’ request—that he be able to put his finger in Jesus wounds. Thomas wants to fully appreciate what Jesus endured. That’s the power of doubt. It moved Thomas to embrace his fears and to be fully in the horror of what had happened. Yes, dead and alive—the two are now one in Jesus.
Notice that Jesus shames Thomas. He admonishes him for having to see in order to believe. All of us initially, when we are young in our faith need to see something that makes us believe. For me, it was having my Matthew on Easter morning. That did it! But, the more we grow spiritually, the less external proof we need. In fact, physical proof can become a bit hokey. My mom does novenas (probably for me) and often she will get a yellow rose on the last day. Granted, we all know yellow roses are her favorite so is it a miracle or just one of us being nice?
As adults, most of us come to a quiet certitude—that it’s enough to believe because we have lived a life of challenge and our faith has sustained us. Prayer has now become less of a “gimme this” and more about gratitude and trust.
Thomas had fears and doubts, just like his friends. He was desperate to understand. Ultimately he needed what all of us need in times of distress or despair, a companion to comfort and help guide us when the way seems overwhelming or dangerous. Thomas needed the Jesus he loved to show him that he was fully and completely back with them as they began their new way of life. With Jesus at his side, Thomas became an evangelizer to India and worked tirelessly to spread the good news. That’s why I’d like to rename Thomas. Instead of Doubting Thomas, I think he should be called Deliberate Thomas. Because of his intention to understand, because he was deliberate, he asked and received answers that empowered him and everyone else.
Deliberate Thomas’s response to Jesus, once he understood, was “My Lord and my God!” He was the first to claim Jesus as both Lord and God. Thomas had come to a deep appreciation of the resurrection because of his questions. May we be blessed to be just as deliberate.
Have you had doubts that led you to a deeper understanding? How was God at work in the process?
Communion Meditation:
WHAT THOMAS WANTS (Andrew King, 2016)
(John 20: 19-31)
Thomas knows all about crucifixion.
Knows the nails driven into the victim
really tear the flesh,
damage the bones.
And he knows that this
is a crucifying world,
with all its violence,
greed and oppression
still hammering nails into the hands of justice,
still thrusting spears through the ribs of love,
still hanging mercy and kindness to die
and sealing up the tomb.
Thomas knows all about it. So he knows that any real resurrection
will have to come out of ruin,
will have to come out of suffering,
will have to come out still bearing the scars
inflicted by the unjust world.
Ask him not
if he believes in
merely a God
who is greater than suffering or death;
any God worth the name
would surely prove immortal,
who may be able to pretend our pain
but could never share it in truth.
No, what Thomas wants to see
is the Lord who rises from
death by crucifixion,
who rises
from the worst that our world can do:
who rises
from hells of corruption and cruelty,
who rises
from violence and terror and hate,
who rises
from rape and torture and war,
who rises
from hunger and disease and squalor,
who rises
torn and terribly scarred
yet walking among us still,
who will touch us in
our woundedness,
who will hold us in
our brokenness,
who sees in us
the prints left by the nails,
who will put his own hurt hand upon
our heartache, fear and despair
and breathe his healing peace
into our souls.
This is who Thomas wants to see – the only
Lord he wants to believe in.
Thomas just wants to see
Jesus.
Easter Sunday 2016
First Reading: Acts 10:34,37-43
Then Peter began to speak to them: “I truly understand that God shows no partiality—rather that any person of any nationality who fears God and does what is right is acceptable to God. That message spread throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John announced: 38how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power; how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him. 39We are witnesses to all that he did both in Judea and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree; 40but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, 41not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. 42He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead. 43All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”
Second Reading: Colossians 3:1-4
Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. 2 Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. 3 For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. 4 When Christ, who is your[a] life,appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.
Gospel Reading: John 20:1-18
Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. 2 So she came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, and said, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!”
3 So Peter and the other disciple started for the tomb. 4 Both were running, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first.5 He bent over and looked in at the strips of linen lying there but did not go in. 6 Then Simon Peter came along behind him and went straight into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, 7 as well as the cloth that had been wrapped around Jesus’ head. The cloth was still lying in its place, separate from the linen. 8 Finally the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed. 9 (They still did not understand from Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead.) 10 Then the disciples went back to where they were staying.
11 Meanwhile, Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb 12 and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.
13 They asked her, “Woman, why are you weeping?”
“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” 14 At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.
15 He asked her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Who is it you are looking for?”
Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”
16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.”
She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).
17 Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”
18 Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her.
Sermon:
Today’s gospel holds the key for who we are today. Each of us has been transformed by its words, by the acts of two people in relationship to each other. Without Mary Magdalene, we might never have come to fully appreciate who Jesus was. Today our alleluia is for the her-story (instead of his-story) and for her faithfulness as a seeker.
Like most of us, Mary’s journey began with questions. Who is this Jesus? What is he teaching? And now at the tomb, Why did he die? Mary’s grief is what has motivated her to keep searching. Where is Jesus now? Who has taken his body? The first time, she ran to tell Peter and the disciples. They came back and found the tomb empty as well. But they left without answers. Mary stays. Afterall, where else is she to go? Her world has been turned upside-down. She know that she must still seek.
Last week, I met a patient who was very leery of me. When I introduced myself as one of the chaplains, he said, “Oh, so you’re here to save me.” I burst out laughing. Mostly because no one has ever said something so direct in response to me before and because that would be the last thing on my mind in a visit with a patient. Over time he came to trust that I really had no agenda except to walk with him as he explored his situation and his beliefs. On one visit, I said, “You are a seeker!” He wasn’t sure how to take this so I said, “We should all be seekers.” As it turned out he had a deep belief in God, even if he couldn’t exactly name who that God was.
Most all human beings are seekers. We have this inner longing to understand, to discover, to find meaning in our lives. We are seekers at our core. How much we respond to that urge varies for all of us. Some of us have found answers, answers that later in life, we needed to revise or develop. That’s part of the spiritual journey. What’s important is that we keep asking questions, that we continue to seek to discover answers that can change our lives.
Mary Magdalene was certainly a seeker. Otherwise she may have heard Jesus, shrugged and walked away. What we know is that she stayed and learned from Jesus. She stayed through his ministry, and through his suffering and death. She stayed at the tomb when Peter and the other disciples left and went back home, unclear what the empty tomb meant. And that’s where our reading ends today for the entire Catholic church. The disciples walk away. What a horrible ending.
The next seven verses in John Chapter 20 are the most important part of our Easter tradition. The key word which begins these verses is “meanwhile.” Meanwhile Mary is still at the tomb. She cannot leave. This is where her beloved Rabbi last was—dead yes, but his body is her last connection. And so she lingers, unable to walk away. At times, we cannot move forward until we understand what has happened and its meaning for us.
Every Easter, we as Full Circle, will read John’s gospel Chapter 20 versus 1-18. We will NOT stop at verse 11. We will hear the story of a woman who was in such grief that she couldn’t bear to leave the tomb. Her grief, her deep desire to seek Jesus,is what caused her to be alone, in a place where Jesus would grant her the unique privilege of being the one who would see and hear him, the resurrected Jesus, before anyone else.
These verses where Mary suddenly becomes aware of Jesus now alive catapults the Christian faith to radical change. The world will never be the same. Jesus didn’t appear to the chief priest or to Herod, not even to Peter. Instead, he appeared to a woman, to the one person who had stayed with him throughout his entire life, even risking death because of her great love for him.
Jesus’s first question after his resurrection, is “Why are you weeping?” It’s a very simple question. Then, he asks Mary who she is looking for. Truly, Jesus already knows the answer to both of these questions. Which makes them all the more mysterious and compelling. They draw us in, which may well be their very intention.
Mary Magdalene is mentioned 14 times in the Bible, more than any other woman. And she appears to be independent, with no domestic responsibilities. This is either because she is very wealthy or very poor. When she is with other women, Mary’s name always comes first, meaning that she was the most important—except when she is with Jesus’s mother. We are to notice this, even if the Church does not. A woman receives the good news of the resurrection and is told to “go tell the others.” Mary Magdalene is commissioned by Jesus himself to evangelize this radical good news. Jesus has overcome death. Alleluia.
Perhaps the reason why Jesus asked those two questions of Mary before he reveals himself is to establish his care and concern for her and to remind us as readers and as fellow seekers that relationship is everything in the Christian faith. He needed to connect with Mary first. Over and over, Jesus does that which maintains or reestablishes relationship—it’s that essential to his life and its meaning.
My patient who thought I was going to save him, eventually came to trust me enough to share some of his beliefs. When I asked about what he believed about an afterlife he said, “As long as someone loves you, you exist.” It was a powerful statement of relationship, one that very much fits in our Christian faith. I told him how much that statement made me respect him. He couldn’t understand that but I think he was pleased by this.
Finally, when Jesus asked Mary, “Who are you looking for?” it may well be a question for us today. Who are we looking for? Who will satisfy our seeking? Who is our authority for how we live life? Who do we claim as our guide, our teacher? Is Jesus enough for us?
In the gospel, when Jesus is revealed to Mary, she is stunned. All she can say is, Rabboni! Teacher! And she rushes to embrace him. But He cannot accept her embrace. He is no longer reliant on the physical and wanted Mary to recognize this. We who so need the tangible, we can learn to trust the intangible too.
Mary’s joy is not diminished by this request. Everything is different now. She goes to fulfill Jesus’s request to “tell the others.” Unlike the disciples who simply go back to where they were staying, Mary has a powerful mission—to report what she has seen and heard. Who would believe her? How could they not believe her? It is a story that we are still trying to embrace and fully appreciate today. Jesus is risen.
May this Easter be our time to hear the good news and reclaim its meaning for us. Jesus is the one we are looking for. Let us reclaim our choice as followers of Jesus. Jesus is who we seek for answers, the answer to life beyond death. We need never despair again. No matter what life brings us, we turn to Jesus for guidance and hope, hope eternal. Happy Easter.
Easter Meditation 2016 by Richard Rohr
Christ Crucified is all of the hidden, private, tragic pain of history made public and given over to God. Christ Resurrected is all of that private, ungrieved, unnoted suffering received, loved, and transformed by an All-Caring God. How else could we believe in God at all? How else could we have any kind of cosmic hope? How else would we not die of sadness for what humanity has done to itself and to one another?
Jesus is the blueprint, the plan, the pattern revealed in one body and moment of history to reveal the meaning of all of history and each of our lives. The cross is the banner of what we do to one another and to God. The resurrection is the banner of what God does to us in return.
Easter is the announcement of God’s perfect and final victory.
Sunday, March 20, 2016
March 20, 2016
Palm Sunday
Nick Smith
Today’s liturgy really rushes this day past us. Instead of savoring Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem as a moment of victory, the entire Passion is read for our Gospel. Yes, Jesus will be crucified in six days, but we should not miss that this day marks the beginning of Jesus’ ultimate victory over death—the ultimate act of our salvation. Today is the first of eight days that changed the world—today marks the start of the ending to our beginning.
Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem is in all four Gospels in various forms. John notes that the people marvel at the raising of Lazarus from the dead and crowd around Jesus. In Luke, the Pharisees ask Jesus to quiet the crowd, and Jesus responds that even if he did, the stones would cry out! Mark provides a subdued entry with little fanfare or attention but notes that Jesus enters on a donkey. Finally, Matthew relates the enacting of the prophecy by Zachariah, “Rejoice in heart and soul….Shout with gladness daughter of Jerusalem! Look! Your ruler comes to you: victorious and triumphant, humble, riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. And the Gospels reveal that the entire city was stirred up.
Up until this day, Jesus stayed out of the limelight. He has kept a low profile—urging his followers to tell no one. Today, the time has come for Jesus to be recognized for who he is and for why he had come—for what he was to fulfill and the task he wanted his followers to accomplish after him. Jesus enters Jerusalem to finally announce himself as the Messiah—the promised savior. He proclaims himself to be a different kind of ruler for the people, establishing a kindom of peace and love and non-violence, and not what the crowd expected. By coming to Jerusalem, Jesus is compelling people to make up their minds—once and for all—about God and God’s kindom.
Here are the events of Palm Sunday
The night before, Jesus dined with Simon the leper, reported by Luke to be a Pharisee, in Bethany. A woman came to him with an alabaster jar of expensive perfumed oil, and she poured it on his head as he was at the table. 8 When the disciples saw this, they became indignant and said, “Why this waste? 9 It could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor!” 10 When Jesus learned of this, he said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a good service for me, Jesus replies, in preparing him for his burial.”
John reports
Now a large crowd of Judeans learned that Jesus was there, and so they came not only because of him but also to see Lazarus whom he had raised from the dead. 10 So the chief priests planned to kill Lazarus too, 11 for on account of him many of the Jewish people from Jerusalem were going away and believing in Jesus.
Luke reports
Now when they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, 2 telling them, “Go to the village ahead of you. Right away you will find a donkey tied there, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me—that is, the reading we heard before mass for the blessing of the palms.
Later it is reported
As Jesus approached Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives, he wept over the city saying, “If you had only known on this day, even you, the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. 43 For the days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and surround you and close in on you from every side. 44 They will demolish you – you and your children within your walls – and they will not leave within you one stone on top of another, because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.”
Later
As he entered Jerusalem the whole city was thrown into an uproar, saying, “Who is this?” 11 And the crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth in Galilee.”
The crowds shout before him, proclaiming him as the Messiah, shouting hosanna [save us] and declaring him a king in the line of David. And Jesus accepts their acclamation—he does not deny the title. In fact, when told to keep his followers quiet, Jesus confirms their acclimation explaining that if he could quiet them it would be to no avail because the very stones would shout out the news.
12 Then Jesus entered the temple area and drove out all those who were selling and buying in the temple courts, and turned over the tables of the money changers and the chairs of those selling doves. 13 And he said to them, “It is written, ‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’ but you are turning it into a den of robbers!” 14 The blind and lame came to him in the temple courts, and he healed them. 15 But when the chief priests and the experts in the law saw the wonderful things he did and heard the children crying out in the temple courts, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” they became indignant 16 and said to him, “Do you hear what they are saying?” Jesus said to them, “Yes. Have you never read, ‘Out of the mouths of children and nursing infants you have prepared praise for yourself’?” 17 And leaving them, he went out of the city to Bethany and spent the night there.
Finally
The chief priests and the experts in the law heard it and they considered how they could assassinate him, for they feared him, because the whole crowd was amazed by his teaching. 19 When evening came, Jesus and his disciples went out of the city.
Then we have the passion reading from today’s gospel—the horrible events to come. But even there on the cross, Jesus will make a statement of victory and triumph. Jesus cries out in a loud voice: “Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachtani!” In English, this is usually translated to mean “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” Generally, this is phrased as a question and is thought to mean the abandonment of God. In Aramaic, however, this is not a question but a declaration: “O God! O God! To what (a purpose) You have kept me! Or “To what a purpose you have left me.” And left does not mean to abandoned, but it means spared to fulfill an end or a destiny. This is a shout of triumph. A shout saying, “I have accomplished it!” [Like the phrase, “it is finished in other gospel accounts]. This translation tells us that this was Jesus’ destiny—to suffer and die for us and to rise from the dead in victory as the fulfillment of God’s promise.
Let us savor the victory of Jesus the Christ over sin. We should celebrate this day as disciples who continue to follow Jesus in spite of risk, anxiety, uncertainty and fear.
March 13, 2016
Fifth Sunday of Lent
The Woman Caught in Adultery
First Reading: Isaiah 43:16-21
Thus says the Lord, who makes a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters, 17who brings out chariot and horse, army and warrior; they lie down, they cannot rise, they are extinguished, quenched like a wick:18Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. 19I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. 20The wild animals will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches; for I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people,21the people whom I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise.
Second Reading: Philippians 3:8-14
8More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ 9and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith. 10I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, 11if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead. 12Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. 13Beloved, I do not consider that I have made it my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, 14I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.
Gospel Reading: John 8:1-11
While Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. 2Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him and he sat down and began to teach them. 3The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery; and making her stand before all of them, 4they said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. 5Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” 6They said this to test him, so that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. 7When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8And once again he bent down and wrote on the ground. 9When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders; and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. 10Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” 11She said, “No one, sir.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.”
Sermon:
Sex is a powerful force. Many of us will do a lot to get it. Most of us do it within the confines of the law and marriage, but there is story after story about people who are willing to cross the line for sex. Adultery is one of the major causes of divorce. It’s a betrayal of trust; one of the most difficult to forgive.
In today’s gospel, we have two people who were willing to cross the line. Both would have been very familiar with the penalty for such an act. Death by stoning. In Leviticus 20:10, it states that “If any man commit adultery with the wife of another and defile his neighbor’s wife let them be put the death, both the adulterer and the adulteress.” That’s a strong penalty. Death by stoning. It was how society worked then. It’s important to understand it from a historical perspective.
In the time of Jesus, the law concerning adultery was very much based on the idea that a wife was her husband’s property. If another man had sex with a married woman, he had violated his neighbor’s property. It was stealing, theft, clear and simple. So it is that in some parts of Africa the seducer (man) is punished with the loss of one or both hands, as one who has committed a robbery against the husband. The woman is also punished, often by bodily mutilation by her husband so that she will be prevented from being a temptation to other men. Sanctioned violence against women has been perpetuated for generations.
The irony is that this gospel story has always been known as the woman caught in adultery. But if she was caught in the act, there had to be another person. The act involves two people, not one. What happened when the woman was caught? Did the man get away? Was he allowed to escape? There seems to be no mention of him whatsoever. If a stoning was going to happen, where was the man? Why would this woman be made to pay for the adultery alone? Did people know the man and want to protect him? No one seems to be questioning these things—except Jesus.
Jesus fully appreciates how the Pharisees believe that this is an open and shut case. They’ve been wanting to find a way to trick him, to embarrass him and they believe this is it. And the crowd wants vengeance; they too feel fully justified in stoning this woman. It is their law, their right. Everyone may have already had stones in their hands. Jesus is also aware of all that is happening behind the scenes. He knows that there are many unanswered questions. Jesus sees the unspoken dynamics, and he almost always takes the side of the victim.
Jesus knows he is being trapped. It’s what his actions are all about. His drawing on the ground bought him some much needed time to configure the words, to find a way to help open the Pharisees’ eyes to the broader picture. By not looking at them, Jesus was holding up a mirror for them all, everyone gathered, to examine their own consciences. Rather than pointing the finger at them, something that would have simply elevated their anger, Jesus invited them to do it for themselves.
If they were free from guilt, they could throw the first stone. What a brilliant way to turn this situation inside out. Instead of falling into their trap, Jesus steps outside the usual way of thinking and turns it upside-down. Both the Pharisees and the crowd had to be infuriated and may have wanted to use the stones against Jesus. We can’t stand it when someone calls our bluff. Suddenly the public shaming is focused on those who are meant to keep the law. Instead of using the woman for public shaming and scapegoating, Jesus was enabling public ownership of them all as sinners. He created a way of forcing them to admit their own wrongdoing without any words being spoken in exchange. This is what sets Jesus apart. His wisdom, his brilliance in finding a way to bring about change without raising a finger. In fact, his finger was doodling in the dirt—allowing his mind and heart to be open to God’s grace.
We must take notice—Jesus responds with calm, with quiet. This story is meant for each of us. Each of us has our own guilt to keep us from pointing the finger. But it is extremely difficult, especially in these political times, not to point a finger to those who want to call forth our worst selves. The CNN reports on Friday were alarming. Riots are breaking out. The extremes of individualism vs. social concern are clashing. How are we to respond?
First we must be certain that we are not casting stones; that is to participate in the very system that causes violence and power seeking. Second, we must allow love to guide us, even when we see hate all around. We cannot strike out. We cannot be as proud and as angry as the mobs that are causing such violence. Our doodling in the dirt might come in the form of using our laptops to write to our congress men and women. Or signing up for a peace rally (which is now happening every Friday at 4:30pm on the Pentacrest) or clicking on the link I sent you all to get a bumper sticker that reads, “Love Trumps Hate.”
And we may have to go one step further by talking about politics in calm voices with those who disagree with us. If Trump becomes the Republican nominee, we need to be very concerned. And there’s no reason to think it can’t happen. Not anymore. The Pharisees are alive and well and they believe they are in the right. They are using the very same tactics that Jesus called into question—blaming, scapegoating, hatred.
Remember, the woman caught in adultery knows she is guilty. And she knows the consequences of her actions. When Jesus asks her if anyone has condemned her, she says “No one sir.” Jesus says, “Neither do I condemn you”. He has no need to judge her—or to punish her. Instead, he instructs her to sin no more. And I would imagine this was a conversion experience for her—having her life saved by a man.
Mary Demuth, a Christian author wrote, In this story, Jesus Christ didn't overturn the Law. Instead, He re-established righteousness on the basis of grace. With grace at work in our lives, so much is possible. First, we can begin by removing stones—the weapons that are used to promote violence and hatred. What stones are perpetuating anger and resentment in our own lives? What stones keep our hearts reluctant to forgive? Grace can help us soften our grip so we can eventually release these stones.
In our first reading, Isaiah speaks God’s words, “I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” That something new is God’s grace abounding in us and around us and through us. Demuth goes on to say that, Grace ushers in forgiveness, but it also empowers us to walk in a new way. Holiness, then, is built on the experience of grace, not on the fear of the Law. Jesus is in the business of rescuing and releasing us, while at the same time calling our sin for what it is: self-centeredness.
And so we are invited to acknowledge our tendency to think of ourselves first and foremost and instead to move in the hope of what is possible with God’s grace. We can move beyond passivity and complacency and be empowered to help change the political system and our future. Let us hope that this “new thing” can be our conscious efforts to forgive, to drop our stones and to help co-create a whole new world, with God’s grace. Amen.
Communion Meditation
History Is on an Inevitable Course
Sunday, March 13, 2016
As I shared last week, Paul believed that history and all of creation are headed toward a radical union, which he called pleroma, "the fullness" (Colossians 1:19, Ephesians 1:10). But the journey is presented as slow and grueling, as you can sense in his ecstatic and paramount writing in Romans 8:18-39. Read this passage, beautifully paraphrased by Eugene Peterson:
I don't think there is any comparison between the present hard times and the coming good times. This created world itself can hardly wait for what is coming next. Everything in creation is being more or less held back now. God reins it in until both creation and all the creatures are ready and can be released at the same moment. Meanwhile the joyful anticipation deepens.
All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. We are also feeling the birth pangs. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy. [This is what I call "negativity capability," or the rubber band pulled back which increases the momentum forward.
So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn't hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing [the Godself] to the worst by sending [God's] own Son, is there anything else [God] wouldn't gladly and freely do for us? . . . Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ's love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing. . . . None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I'm absolutely convinced that nothing--nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable--absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us."[1]
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
February 28, 2016
Homily: February 28, 2016
Luke 13: 1-9
Back in the mid 1960’s, my oldest sister and her family moved to Bakersfield, California. Whenever my mother received a letter from her, she would read it to us as we sat around the kitchen table. In one letter, she wrote, “Bakersfield is very hot and very dry. I miss the green of Iowa, the smell of the grass, cut hay, corn and fresh vegetables from the garden. We are located in a neat place, though. Drive for about an hour to the west, and you are on the beach by the ocean. Drive about an hour to the east, and you’re in the mountains and cool air. One funny thing we’ve discovered is that on Saturdays in the fall and on other evenings of the year, the scenic overlooks going up the mountains are packed with cars. We saw an Iowa flag waving in the breeze last Saturday, so Paul stopped and asked what was going on. It seems that Iowans drive up the mountain roads to the overlooks and tune their radios to WHO from Des Moines in order to listen to the Iowa football games. You can only get WHO at the mountain elevations. Why, we asked. Because it brings us closer to home, they replied. We took our grill and tail-gated on the mountain last Saturday, talking to fellow Iowans and listening to the Iowa vs Illinois football game. We’re not big football fans, but we had fun.
This phenomenon has always stuck with me over the years—people would drive up the mountain to listen to a football game in order to be closer to home. I don’t suppose this happens any more with satellite and cable TV, but I think the entire situation is interesting.
I know with myself, home is where I grew up, where my family was, my parents, my brothers and sisters—my extended family of aunts and uncles and cousins and childhood friends—even though I haven’t lived there in 50 years. For me and [as it turns out] most people, this is home—the place where you were loved, accepted and welcomed, even when you were less than perfect.
Many psychological research studies have found that our first or main childhood home plays an integral role in the development of our personal identities. These initial childhood experiences can become deeply imprinted into our psyche, and if they were happy ones, we often seek to recreate them as adults and return to them often during our lives to provide us with guidance, assurance and comfort.
We like to be home as people. We like to have those roots. We like to have a place where we belong—a place where we are loved for just being us.
So, what does “home” have to do with today’s readings? Well, just about everything. In the first reading, God calls Moses through the burning bush to return home—back to Egypt—and bring the people of Israel back to their home-land. Paul [in his rather bizarre retelling of Israel’s exodus] admonishes the church of Corinth, urging them to return home to the principles and teachings of Jesus. He links the predominantly Gentile population of Corinth to the people of Israel with the curious phrase “our ancestors;” thus, inviting them to return home to the teachings of Jesus.
In both readings, it is good to return home—to a place where you are welcomed in love and acceptance. In both readings, the word “repent” in Hebrew literally means “to turn around” or “to return.” To repent means to turn around and return home.
The gospel begins with two tragedies that have happened. Pilot has apparently had some Galileans murdered and their blood mixed with the blood of their own sacrifices. Jesus replies, “Were the Galileans worse sinners? No. Then Jesus adds another tragedy pointing out the eighteen people who were killed when a tower collapsed. “Were the eighteen victims worse sinners?” he asks. No. These events were not because of some great sin that those people had committed.
So why did they happen? We’re waiting for the answer from Jesus. But he doesn’t give us one. No, he ignores the abstract, “Why do bad things like this happen?” and goes straight to the lives of those listening. And to us. He turns and looks at us. Unless we repent, we too will perish. And this perish is even more catastrophic than the tragedies that brought death. This perishing is eternal. Forever being separated from God. Never being able to come home to his love. Jesus is taking us out of the abstract “why?” and turning us back to ourselves. Calling us to repent, that is, to turn around and come home to God.
Jesus tells us how repentance works. You turn away from something that is pulling you away from Jesus and turn around to come back home to God. It’s like the parable of the Prodigal Son. The young son wants his inheritance early. His father gives it to him. He heads off to another city to live. Do you see what the big problem is? As Americans, we think about how he wasted the money. We imagine what type of sinful living he indulged in. But the bigger problem happened earlier. He. Left. Home. He turned his back on his home.
Finally, he realizes what he has done. He’s feeding pigs and they have better food than he does. So repentance has begun. He turns away from what has led him so far from home and heads back. His father sees him coming. He runs to meet him. New robe. New sandals. New ring. Celebration! He’s come home. Repentance is coming home. Repentance is being welcomed home in love and acceptance.
Repentance is coming home to Jesus—to God, and God is waiting with open arms, but our time is limited, and we don’t have forever. Jesus illustrates this idea with the parable of the fig tree. In Jesus’ time, bad things didn’t just happen to good people. So if you found yourself in the midst of a horrific event then you must have done something to upset God. But Jesus says this concept that punishment and sin are related is inaccurate and inconsistent with the truths about God’s mercy and forgiveness. The last thing Jesus says before diving into the parable is “But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13:5). The point is not that these people were sinful and therefore bad things happened to them; God never promised that your life would be free of tragedy and disappointment. The point is that you must repent—return to God--and the time to do so is now.
Just as the fig tree was, given another chance to bear fruit, so are we given another chance to repent, but you must not wait. This parable also provides the audience with a sense of hope. The story does not give you closure as to whether the fig tree produced fruit after that last year. It leaves it open—to give you hope that no matter how barren you may be, there is still the possibility of becoming fruitful.
When I travel somewhere new to me, I use a GPS. If I miss a turn, it says, “turn at the next street—turn right, then turn right and then turn right again, getting me back on the right path. With God, it’s always possible to turn around and get “back” on the right path—to come home, and God welcomes us with opened arms. Repentance is coming home. Things will happen. And while the gift of our earthly life is still ours, we need to ask ourselves, how is our relationship with God? Do we love our neighbors as ourselves? Are we relieving the sufferings of others or are we pointing fingers to connect the dots between their suffering and sin—blaming the person.
I can’t help but think of poor Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz who is swept away in a tornado, forced to face unbelievable horrors and dangers of all sorts, and who—in the end—processed the power of her own salvation by simply clicking her heels together and repeating the words, “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.” Maybe during this Lenten season we should all repent—turn around and return home to God.
Luke 13: 1-9
Back in the mid 1960’s, my oldest sister and her family moved to Bakersfield, California. Whenever my mother received a letter from her, she would read it to us as we sat around the kitchen table. In one letter, she wrote, “Bakersfield is very hot and very dry. I miss the green of Iowa, the smell of the grass, cut hay, corn and fresh vegetables from the garden. We are located in a neat place, though. Drive for about an hour to the west, and you are on the beach by the ocean. Drive about an hour to the east, and you’re in the mountains and cool air. One funny thing we’ve discovered is that on Saturdays in the fall and on other evenings of the year, the scenic overlooks going up the mountains are packed with cars. We saw an Iowa flag waving in the breeze last Saturday, so Paul stopped and asked what was going on. It seems that Iowans drive up the mountain roads to the overlooks and tune their radios to WHO from Des Moines in order to listen to the Iowa football games. You can only get WHO at the mountain elevations. Why, we asked. Because it brings us closer to home, they replied. We took our grill and tail-gated on the mountain last Saturday, talking to fellow Iowans and listening to the Iowa vs Illinois football game. We’re not big football fans, but we had fun.
This phenomenon has always stuck with me over the years—people would drive up the mountain to listen to a football game in order to be closer to home. I don’t suppose this happens any more with satellite and cable TV, but I think the entire situation is interesting.
I know with myself, home is where I grew up, where my family was, my parents, my brothers and sisters—my extended family of aunts and uncles and cousins and childhood friends—even though I haven’t lived there in 50 years. For me and [as it turns out] most people, this is home—the place where you were loved, accepted and welcomed, even when you were less than perfect.
Many psychological research studies have found that our first or main childhood home plays an integral role in the development of our personal identities. These initial childhood experiences can become deeply imprinted into our psyche, and if they were happy ones, we often seek to recreate them as adults and return to them often during our lives to provide us with guidance, assurance and comfort.
We like to be home as people. We like to have those roots. We like to have a place where we belong—a place where we are loved for just being us.
So, what does “home” have to do with today’s readings? Well, just about everything. In the first reading, God calls Moses through the burning bush to return home—back to Egypt—and bring the people of Israel back to their home-land. Paul [in his rather bizarre retelling of Israel’s exodus] admonishes the church of Corinth, urging them to return home to the principles and teachings of Jesus. He links the predominantly Gentile population of Corinth to the people of Israel with the curious phrase “our ancestors;” thus, inviting them to return home to the teachings of Jesus.
In both readings, it is good to return home—to a place where you are welcomed in love and acceptance. In both readings, the word “repent” in Hebrew literally means “to turn around” or “to return.” To repent means to turn around and return home.
The gospel begins with two tragedies that have happened. Pilot has apparently had some Galileans murdered and their blood mixed with the blood of their own sacrifices. Jesus replies, “Were the Galileans worse sinners? No. Then Jesus adds another tragedy pointing out the eighteen people who were killed when a tower collapsed. “Were the eighteen victims worse sinners?” he asks. No. These events were not because of some great sin that those people had committed.
So why did they happen? We’re waiting for the answer from Jesus. But he doesn’t give us one. No, he ignores the abstract, “Why do bad things like this happen?” and goes straight to the lives of those listening. And to us. He turns and looks at us. Unless we repent, we too will perish. And this perish is even more catastrophic than the tragedies that brought death. This perishing is eternal. Forever being separated from God. Never being able to come home to his love. Jesus is taking us out of the abstract “why?” and turning us back to ourselves. Calling us to repent, that is, to turn around and come home to God.
Jesus tells us how repentance works. You turn away from something that is pulling you away from Jesus and turn around to come back home to God. It’s like the parable of the Prodigal Son. The young son wants his inheritance early. His father gives it to him. He heads off to another city to live. Do you see what the big problem is? As Americans, we think about how he wasted the money. We imagine what type of sinful living he indulged in. But the bigger problem happened earlier. He. Left. Home. He turned his back on his home.
Finally, he realizes what he has done. He’s feeding pigs and they have better food than he does. So repentance has begun. He turns away from what has led him so far from home and heads back. His father sees him coming. He runs to meet him. New robe. New sandals. New ring. Celebration! He’s come home. Repentance is coming home. Repentance is being welcomed home in love and acceptance.
Repentance is coming home to Jesus—to God, and God is waiting with open arms, but our time is limited, and we don’t have forever. Jesus illustrates this idea with the parable of the fig tree. In Jesus’ time, bad things didn’t just happen to good people. So if you found yourself in the midst of a horrific event then you must have done something to upset God. But Jesus says this concept that punishment and sin are related is inaccurate and inconsistent with the truths about God’s mercy and forgiveness. The last thing Jesus says before diving into the parable is “But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13:5). The point is not that these people were sinful and therefore bad things happened to them; God never promised that your life would be free of tragedy and disappointment. The point is that you must repent—return to God--and the time to do so is now.
Just as the fig tree was, given another chance to bear fruit, so are we given another chance to repent, but you must not wait. This parable also provides the audience with a sense of hope. The story does not give you closure as to whether the fig tree produced fruit after that last year. It leaves it open—to give you hope that no matter how barren you may be, there is still the possibility of becoming fruitful.
When I travel somewhere new to me, I use a GPS. If I miss a turn, it says, “turn at the next street—turn right, then turn right and then turn right again, getting me back on the right path. With God, it’s always possible to turn around and get “back” on the right path—to come home, and God welcomes us with opened arms. Repentance is coming home. Things will happen. And while the gift of our earthly life is still ours, we need to ask ourselves, how is our relationship with God? Do we love our neighbors as ourselves? Are we relieving the sufferings of others or are we pointing fingers to connect the dots between their suffering and sin—blaming the person.
I can’t help but think of poor Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz who is swept away in a tornado, forced to face unbelievable horrors and dangers of all sorts, and who—in the end—processed the power of her own salvation by simply clicking her heels together and repeating the words, “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.” Maybe during this Lenten season we should all repent—turn around and return home to God.
Thursday, February 11, 2016
Ash Wednesday, February 10, 2016
Ash Wednesday, February 10, 2016
First Reading: Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
Blow the trumpet in Zion; sound the alarm on my holy mountain! Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, for the day of the LORD is coming, it is near-
a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness! Like blackness spread upon the mountains a great and powerful army comes; their like has never been from of old, nor will be again after them in ages to come.
Yet even now, says the LORD, return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; rend your hearts and not your clothing. Return to the LORD, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing.
Who knows whether he will not turn and relent, and leave a blessing behind him, a grain offering and a drink offering for the LORD, your God?
Blow the trumpet in Zion; sanctify a fast; call a solemn assembly; gather the people. Sanctify the congregation; assemble the aged; gather the children, even infants at the breast. Let the bridegroom leave his room, and the bride her canopy. Between the vestibule and the altar let the priests, the ministers of the LORD, weep. Let them say, "Spare your people, O LORD, and do not make your heritage a mockery, a byword among the nations. Why should it be said among the peoples, 'Where is their God?'"
Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10
We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. As we work together with him, we urge you also not to accept the grace of God in vain. For he says, "At an acceptable time I have listened to you, and on a day of salvation I have helped you." See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation!
We are putting no obstacle in anyone's way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry, but as servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger; by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; in honor and dishonor, in ill repute and good repute. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see--we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
"Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven. "So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
"And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. "And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
Sermon:
Just this past Sunday, my husband and I returned from Puerto Rico. We’d never been there before. It was a wonderful place to escape from the cold; very friendly and green, so green. We went to a rainforest, the only American Rainforest in the National forest system. As we entered, there was an overwhelming sense of awe. Some of the trees are thousands of years old. There are more species of trees in this one forest than in all the other national forests combined. One tree in particular was remarkable. It was a palm tree whose roots started above ground. You could see how intentional its roots were in digging in deep. There were hundreds of roots coming from one tree, all helping to ground it in the soil and to soak up the over 200 inches of water that the rainforest gets every year. The bark was covered in moss, soft and moist. These trees form the canopy for the rainforest, home to insects and birds and rare tiny frogs called coquis. And all of this began with a single drop of water.
Which brings us to Lent. Lent is an opportunity to start over, to try again, to be more intentional about our relationship with God, especially in our pray, to pray in a way that is meaningful, in a way that changes us and deepens our faith. Anything that can help us to become more deeply rooted in our faith is can be part of Lent. How do we begin?
Fear is often a motivator. In today’s readings we hear Joel warning us to shape up. That’s very typical of the Hebrew scriptures—true fire and brimstone. Joel insists that now is the time for us to fast and to weep. We hear the warning, the threat of punishment, the ‘or else’ of this reading. You’d better repent. Blow the trumpets to wake everyone up to this reality. God is at the ready. Will he be merciful or very, very angry? We hear a small caveat that God can be nice, slow to anger, even gracious but you just never know how God will act so better be safe than sorry. The message is one of fear to motivate change.
Paul wants us to be reconciled with God, with the very clear inference that we are to blame. Sin is assumed. We have fallen away through sin. Paul and the disciples are trying to show us the way back to God. They’ve done their part, he says, now it’s our turn. The gauntlet has been thrown. Now it’s up to us to make good choices, to repent and turn from our sinful ways. Paul uses comparisons and subtle “look what we’ve done” to urge us on. Guilt can be a strong motivator as well.
Thankfully, Jesus takes a different angle. He uses love as a motivator. Imagine that. Jesus invites us to connect with God. He says “when” you pray not “if” you pray. He assumes good of us, that we do pray and that it is a “when”, a time set aside for privacy, for silence, for time away from the chaos of life. So, Jesus says, when you go there, this is how you are to do it. Jesus offers gentle instructions, giving us contrasts, not this way but that way—not like the hypocrites who make it so obvious to others. That’s not prayer, that’s showmanship or one-upmanship—the I-do-it-better-than-you game. No, that is not prayer. This is how a good rabbi should be teaching us, how to help us connect with God in authentic ways, ways that actually change the relationship and deepen it.
Prayer is just that—a connecting with God. Jesus wants us to understand how vital it is for us to do this regularly, daily, like steady drops of water that collect over time. For a while, I decided that my life was a prayer, that everything I did was prayer. I was a busy mom and daily prayer just didn’t seem possible. It was a convenient way of hoping to pray but not wholly effective. Rather, choosing to be intentional about prayer is what Jesus is urging. Times when we become aware of God in the midst of our day, can be a prayerful moment. And so I found that simple ways of incorporating time for prayer can work. Most often, I turn off the radio during Lent, so that my drive time is prayer time, a time for silence and intention. Anytime we can find where there is an opportunity, we can use it to reconnect with God.
Images help us as well. Those roots from the palm tree in the rainforest help anchor me. They are such a powerful image for prayer. I long to be that firmly rooted in God, where I can withstand hurricane-force winds that bend and threaten to break me. Hundreds of roots that anchor me in God, the source of all life. The rainforest is a network of life, all inter-connected and inter-reliant. The single drop of rain that multiplies over and over again to renew the plants and to grow the roots is essential to the whole system. We need God, just like the roots of those palm trees need the water and the ground. Can we be grounded in God like that? Can we work to spread our very roots in God as our earth, rich loam, yes dirty ash that help to green us, to grow us in the network of life. Life is not lived on the surface or if it is, we often grow stale and restless. We become despondent because as spiritual beings we need more. Perhaps our Lent can be a time of intentional moments that ground our soul, in deeper, meaningful ways.
The silence of the rainforest was striking. Once we heard the coqui teasing us. Sometimes words can be helpful in prayer, or soft music or humming. Other times, silence can be a balm for us in the chaos of life. This is what Jesus is encouraging us to do, to take a time out in our daily life, a time that he knows we need, alone, in quiet, when we can actually focus on our God with assurance. Silence can be one of the most healing experiences—the silence of a new fallen snow, a morning sunrise or a bright moonlit night. These are snapshots of beauty or emotion that cannot be found when we rush. Ten seconds or ten minutes, at a stoplight or while doing dishes, these moments of prayer need to be chosen, pondered, reflected upon and allowed to deepen in our souls. Dorothy Whiston, one of my spiritual directors, often encouraged me to marinate in these kind of moments. I love that verb for prayer: marinating. Soaking in God’s love to help move us through our longing our sadness even through our pain. Maybe that’s our image—a jar of pickles or olives, marinating in the oil, the balm of God.
Silence like this can be risky—we do not know what we might hear or become aware of in the dark, through silence. Our deepest fear is one of abandonment, that we are utterly alone in life. Which is often why we keep making noise. And why we keep avoiding prayer. Is it true? Are we really just all alone in this life? Jesus would never have insisted that we go to pray alone if God was not to be found there. Nor would he encourage us to give thanks, or to be forgiven as we forgive others. The Jesus prayer, or the Lord’s Prayer as it is known, is primarily a relational prayer, one that speaks to the inter-connectedness of us all, the give and take of daily life and the constancy of God who provides for our every need.
Lent is a time to deepen our choice to trust in God, a God who is mysterious and sometimes elusive. A God who is rain or sun or dirt. May we choose to plant ourselves, to root ourselves in a place that reconnects us to God this Lent. Whether it is ten seconds or ten minutes, may we interrupt our busy lives to pray, to become mindful of the God who beckons, who can help us feel deeply connected and never forsaken.
As we are marked with dirt, may we feel ourselves claimed by a God who cherishes us, who sees us as the co-creators we can be in our own forest. This Lent our God waits for us to come away, to find the treasure that awaits in the precious space of time set aside, and to be renewed in what really matters—love, sacred relationship that is eternal. Blessings on your Lenten season. Amen.
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