The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 18, 8 September 2019

Preaching at All Saint’s Church, San Francisco

The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 18

8 September 2019

“First Things”

Jeremiah 18:1-11

Deuteronomy 30:15-20

Psalm 1

Philemon 1-21

St. Luke 14:25-33

INI

The Household

My sister Bonnie has delved deeply into understanding our family’s genealogy. She has gotten it back into the sixteenth century. Inspired by her efforts I finally submitted swabs of my saliva to a genetics firm to see what it might tell me about my origins. The most astounding parts were the results of looking at my father and mother’s DNA. Mom’s DNA originated in somewhere in the Saudi Arabian desert millennia ago, and my father’s in the Levant in modern day Syria. That these elements should have finally shown up in Kansas and Colorado, and in my case Los Angeles, California is astounding. What lies behind such a quest? It is, I think, an attempt to understand who and what we are, and our relationship to the ages. It is, in a way, establishing a household, or as the Romans would say, a “domus” a household that included many relationships. It is this idea that is the thematic glue in our readings for today.

In the Gospel for today Jesus says something quite startling – something that needs exploration and explanation. 

"Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.”

What can he be saying to us here? That is the question for the morning, and we can begin finding an answer by looking at the readings. 

The Household of Faith – the Covenant

In the first reading from Deuteronomy we have one of several instances in which either Moses or Joshua gather Israel together to rehearse the covenant that they have made with God. These two prophets gather the people together to reconstitute the Household of Faith. In the ancient near east, treaties between countries, between households, or between individuals were always accompanied by “blessings and curses.” You’ll see the same thing in the contractual language that accompanies your purchase of a dryer from Sears. If you make the payments, the blessings of ownership will be conferred upon you. If you don’t make the payments, the curses of repossession will be conferred upon you. In this reading, the same thing is offered. “See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity.” It is this relationship with God that is desired. It is being in the household, the domusof God, the chosen of God. That relationship will be described later by Jesus as the Kingdom of God, the Kingdom of Heaven; more about that later.

Who is in the Household?

Paul, in the second reading, wrestles with a difficult situation. His friend’s slave, Onesimus, has left the household of Philemon and has joined up with Paul. In the Roman empire, Paul as a citizen would be constrained to return the property of Philemon, Onesimus the slave. Paul is caught between a rock and a hard place. Social custom and law would require the return of the man. That Paul acknowledges. His religious convictions, however, remind him that in Deuteronomy the following is expected of him as a Jew, “You shall not hand over to their master any slaves who have taken refuge with you from their master.” What shall constrain Paul, the customs of the household in Rome, or the requirements of the household of faith in Israel?

It’s amazing to me that this dilemma has not struck our consciousness with greater force; that we don’t realize how we yet enslave others, if not our own selves. Paul leaves the choice up to his friend. Can we leave that choice up to those who enslave in our time? I think not. Though there were often slaves in the ancient households of Paul and Jesus’ time, there cannot be the same allowance in our time. Paul saw the only slavery possible is that deep connection to service in Christ. Again, it is about relationship. He recognizes his friendship with Philemon that allows him the critical voice that the situation deserves. There is, however, another relationship that affects Paul, “I am sending him, that is, my own heart, back to you.”Paul’s relationship with Onesimus is more than one of utility or practicality. It is a relationship born in the love of Christ. So, it must be with us as we look at those who pick our crops, sew our clothing, cook our food, build our homes. They are, all of them, in the household of faith.

The Household – the Family

A couple of Sunday’s ago, in the Gospel, Jesus advises us of the necessity to be perceptive, to be aware, and to see our times for what they are. Such demands are meant to help us see what Jesus’ really wants us to perceive. That is the Kingdom of God. Both he and John the Baptist alerted their audiences to its coming, pled with them to be aware of its presence, and of its importance. When we were either taken to the Font, or walked there on our own, we were brought into the Kingdom. Now, even after all the years that have gone by since the water splashed us into the Household of Faith, even now we must learn again the cost of following Jesus. 

Jesus’ words about the family startle us. Jesus doesn’t ask us to repent of these relationships – he says we must “hate” them. The relationship that we must love is the one that is known in the Kingdom of God. What we are asked to do here is to detach ourselves from those relationships that society demands of us, and to see them really rooted in the Kingdom, in the Household of Faith. 

When we look at the truly rich, the 1%, we look at a people who truly do look at the times and seasons for the benefit of their household. The poor plan for tomorrow. The middle-class plan for a generation or two.The truly rich, however, plan and focus on many generations in the future, so that they might continue to have the good fortune that those living in this time have enjoyed. That focus does not describe the Household of Faith that Jesus desires. First, there is the vision of God, and the love of God. Then there is the love of and concern for our neighbor – just as we love ourselves – just as we must love ourselves. The cost of such an endeavor is that we turn our gaze from that which we desire, to that which is necessary for our salvation and for our inclusion in the Family, the Household of Faith, the Kingdom of God. There are consequences for such a relationship – we need to be clear about that. The consequences, however, make for a better present not only for ourselves, but for all who are bound to God in Christ. 

The best way to see it is in this story which Luke records in his eighth chapter. Jesus is teaching, and then there is an interruption. 

“Then his mother and his brothers^* came to him but were unable to join him because of the crowd. He was told, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside and they wish to see you.He said to them in reply, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and act on it.”

Matthew puts it even more succinctly, 

“While he was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers appeared outside, wishing to speak with him.[Someone told him, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, asking to speak with you.”]^*But he said in reply to the one who told him, “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?” And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother, and sister, and mother.”

Now then, my friends, my family, what shall we do now? What are truly our first things?

SDG

The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 16, 25 August 2019

Preaching at All Saint’s Church, San Francisco

The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 16

25 August 2019

“True Worship”

Jeremiah 1:4-10

Isaiah 58:9b-14

Psalm 71 and 103

Hebrews 12:18-29

St. Luke 13:10-17

INI

First Reading:

As I looked at the readings for this Sunday, and thought of All Saints’ Church in its current situation, looking into the future, asking the Spirit to lead it into mission in this part of the city, and looking for that individual who will serve as mentor and guide, I was drawn to address the whole idea of “true worship.” The idea is addressed in some manner in each of the readings for today. I couldn’t remember whether or not you use Track One or Track Two from the lectionary, so I will use the resources of both readings in forming my remarks this morning. 

In Track One, the reading is the Call of Jeremiah in the first chapter of his book. We become aware of his work as a priest in the tradition of Anathoth, and then of his call to be prophet – a messenger to his present time of the Word of the Lord. Jeremiah objects to the call. He says he is too young, not given to good speech, too fearful. God thinks otherwise, however, allowing that God has known Jeremiah from the womb. He touches Jeremiah’s mouth and says, “Now I have put my words in your mouth.”

The Track Two first reading is from Third Isaiah, in which he contrasts the behaviors and actions of the wicked and the righteous. God puts up a series of “If, then” statements to challenge the righteous. “If you remove the yoke from among you. If you offer your food to the hungry, then your light shall rise in the darkness. This is the typical message of the prophets – the honoring and caring for the widow and the orphan, the lifting up of the oppressed. Even though this is addressed to those returning from exile, in difficult circumstances themselves, the prophet none-the-less enjoins them in this work of charity. True worship is, after all, formed of the love we have for God with all our heart, soul and mind, and the love we have for our neighbor that equals the love we have for ourselves. 

So from these two readings we understand our obligations on this holy day – to speak God’s word no matter how difficult that word might be, and to serve both God and neighbor. Third Isaiah contributes a second set of “If, then” statements that deal specifically with the Sabbath Day and worship. “If you refrain from trampling the sabbath, from pursuing your own interests on my holy day; if you call the sabbath a delight,…if you honor it; then you shall take delight in the Lord. Delight in the Lord! What an expectation for us as we come to do our worship and make our prayers. Delight in the Lord, and concern for our neighbor, so Jeremiah and Third Isaiah would have us think and act.

Second Reading

The author of Hebrews has a different set of comparisons. Here we scenes of the holy mountain Sinai, and of the holy wilderness in which Israel wandered for forty years. In this reading, the author addresses us as pilgrims. “You have come not to something that can be touched,” and then lists ineffable things that speak of mystery – blazing fire, darkness, gloom, a tempest, the sound of a trumpet, and a voice of power and awe. This places us at Sinai and awaiting the giving of the Law, the announcement of God’s intentions for us. Is that where we worship, or is that where we wait to worship? 

Later in the passage, the author sees pilgrims coming to another destination. “But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem. Don’t you find it fascinating that when people are asked about the places that inspire worship, they usually refer to something in nature – a lake, an ocean, a mountain, a forest. This, however, is different. We are bound to come to the city. In our day and age, the city is often thought of as a place of sin and the absence of God, and yet that is the symbol of God’s presence. Perhaps, going back to the prophetic message about God and neighbor, we realize that the city is the place in which we see most clearly the need of our neighbor, that our true worship can begin here as we aid and care for our neighbor. That is why we worship in assembly – that we gather on a frequent basis around the table and the water and become a community – a city of righteousness.

The Holy Gospel

This image is seen with a great deal of clarity in the Gospel for this morning. Here we meet a woman who has been burdened with illness for eighteen years. She meets Jesus on a significant day, a time in which his actions over against her redefine what it means to worship on the Sabbath Day. I can remember a time, when I lived in Massachusetts, where stores either would not open on Sunday, or would cover up all manner of goods that could not be sold on the Sabbath Day. Or I remember the elevator in the King’s Hotel in Jerusalem which went up and down all day long – stopping at each floor, so that one did not have to push a button to indicate which floor was your destination. 

Jesus cuts through all this to enable us to see human need. It is here that we need to recall the deep connection between worship and human need. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind, just as you love your neighbor as you love yourself.” It is all bound together in a package that defines and refines our sense of worship. Here, as in the other readings, there is also a contrast. Luke contrasts the disbelief and offense taken by the synagogue leaders with the rejoicing of the people who witnessed the same actions. “And the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing. They worshipped – and their worship was not only praise but thanksgiving as well.

Worship is freedom. The woman was freed from her satanic burden or pain and disease. Likewise, we are freed from whatever it is the binds us to unhappiness and distress. That is why confession is so important. It is liberation, and perhaps its words of forgiveness pass us by too quickly. Here is what ought to make us sit up and rejoice if we have in the silence that preceded our confession deeply thought about what separates us from both God and neighbor. It is this pronouncement that out to bring both joy and freedom. “Almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you all your sins through our Lord Jesus Christ, strengthen you in all goodness, and by the power of the Holy Spirit keep you in eternal life.” With these words the rest of the Mass becomes a prayer of thanksgiving – a Eucharist.

Where are you going as a parish? Where are you going as a People of God? Where will you want your new Rector to take you? How will you be pilgrims? What will you true worship be like as you wait for new leadership, and then when you are given it? I hope these words will help you in your prayers as you await that time.

SDG

The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 15, 18 August 2019

Preaching at Saint Mark's Berkeley
The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 15

“Perception”

Jeremiah 23:23-29

Psalm 82

Hebrews 11:29-12:2

St. Luke 12:49-56

INI

What a struggle it was this weekend. I jumped at the opportunity when Fr. Blake offered the possibility of preaching to you this Sunday. Whenever there is a baptism I become stirred up. Baptisms are a time for both remembrance and anticipation – a time for rejoicing and a time for thought. When I decided to accept the offer to preach to you, I immediately went and looked at the Lectionary for this morning anticipating a point in at least one of the readings that would accompany us through the Baptismal Rite and into the life of all who would surround Laurence in his life with Jessica, Bryan, and the whole people of God. And when I looked there there didn’t seem to be anything. Jeremiah decries his fellow prophets who don’t speak the truth. The psalm decries the unjust actions of those who lead. The reading from Hebrews decries how those who have brought the word have been badly treated, and finally in the Gospel Jesus describes how difficult it is for us to decide to abide in the Kingdom. Happy Baptismal Day, Laurence. Yet, the Word is the Word, and here are my gleanings. Let me address several groups.

To Bryan, Jessica, and the Sponsors - God is ubiquitous and yet we must find God.

Jeremiah is upset with his fellow practitioners. They seek God, and seek to communicate God’s word and yet they have failed. His words to them are: “Let the (prophet) who has my word speak my word faithfully.” You are the prophets for this young man. In his search for God, and in your own continuing search for God, your search will become meat for him, the milk of promise, and the fruit of salvation. That is why we will give him a candle at the end of the Rite. It will serve as a reminder to him, and it will serve as a reminder to you as well. Light it on his baptismal birthday so that both he and you can remember this day and these actions. But remember that you, his sponsors and his parents are that light as well. 

There is a wonderful passage in the Track One psalm for this morning. It speaks about God and God’s actions, but it hopes, I think, to speak of us as well, of you as well. “Hear, O Shepherd of Israel, leading Joseph like a flock (or in your case, leading Laurence like a flock) shine forth, you that are enthroned upon the cherubim. Yes, indeed, that is my word to you, Jessica, Bryan, the sponsor, indeed to all of us – shine forth! For it is we who will be witnesses to those who come to the Font.

To all of you here this morning - God is known to us in the great cloud of witnesses.

On Fridays, when I come here to celebrate the Holy Eucharist with you, Todd so kindly puts out my chalice, but on occasion I use the pewter chalice that has always appeared in the chapel. When I look down at the paten, I see her name, Dorothea Lange. I think that is what it is. I look at her name, and although I didn’t know her, I try to remember her as a saint. I recommend a tour to you. Walk around our building and notice all the names that appear on our chancel steps, windows, walls, and sacred vessels. The author to the Hebrews reminds us, “we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses.” 

Those names represent to us all the women and men who were our prophets, our guides to the faith, pointing out to us the ubiquity of God, and how to find God. At baptisms, we need to give thanks for these voices and hands that accompanied us from the font and brought us out into life. I’m lucky. I have the vessel I was baptized in. I was a breach baby, and there was the real possibility that I wasn’t going to survive and so my father used a glass bowl as the font of my baptism. It’s an ordinary glass bowl – Arthur once saw it and asked if we could serve a fruit salad in it. I blanched. I had used it for my daughter’s baptism – it seemed set aside for holy purposes.

What are the things, the places, the people and the voices that connect you with your baptism? How will you be there to connect Laurence to his. We are all witnesses on this day but will continue to be witnesses every day. The ordinariness of our life will be a witness to him of our faith – of what we believe and trust in. It will make us stand out.

To the Church and to the Nation - God is a deciding point in life, requiring discernment.

Jesus doesn’t mince words in what he has to say in today’s Gospel. 

“Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! From now on five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three; they will be divided:

father against son
and son against father,

mother against daughter
and daughter against mother,

mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law
and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law."

These are difficult words on this joyful and gentle day. They do, however, get at the heart of the matter. We tend to think of baptismal days in a sentimental manner – gentle things: water, burning candles, healing oil. But they are dangerous as well. Water can drown, fire can burn, oil can sear. Baptism is a dangerous thing. It separates you from your fellows. It says something about your journey in life, your search for God, your concern for your fellow humanity. Jesus knew this about the kingdom that he was announcing. Some would refuse to see and perceive it and to accept entrance into it. Families would be divided over calling him Lord and Savior.

What we have answered for Laurence will set him apart as well, and all us, set apart in our own baptisms, must be ready for this difficult task. In the psalm for this morning, God renders judgment on his fellow gods.

"How long will you judge unjustly, *
and show favor to the wicked?

 Save the weak and the orphan; *
defend the humble and needy;

Rescue the weak and the poor; *
deliver them from the power of the wicked.

There are consequences in making this decision that baptism asks. There are responsibilities that roll over us as we are submerged in the waters. Old behaviors of forgetfulness and indifference to both God and other need to be washed away and we need to separate ourselves from them. When we answer the questions in the Baptismal Liturgy, we need to answer them mindful that we are witnesses not only of Laurence’s baptism, but that we are witnesses of the Gospel to both nation, world, and, would you believe it, to the church as well, as it forgets its way.

Will you proclaim by word and example the GoodNews of God in Christ? Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, lovingyour neighbor as yourself? Will you strive for justice and peace among allpeople, and respect the dignity of every humanbeing?

Important questions, and even more important answers on our part. So, let’s do the deed, baptize this child, and then let us go out into the world serving as witnesses of God’s goodness.

SDG

The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 11, 21 July 2019

“Balancing”

II Kings 5:2-24

Psalm 15

Colossians 1:15-28

St. Luke 10:38-42

INI

Disciples as Dependents

Two Sundays ago, in the Gospel reading we heard of Jesus sending out seventy disciples (a perfect number) to make people aware that the Kingdom of God was near to them. What is interesting in this sending out is that Jesus sends them out in a diminished state, dependent upon the hospitality of others. They were to accept what was set before them, taking the bare minimum in support of there bodily needs. In this, Jesus prepares his disciples with the discipline born in the wilderness, in the wanderings of Israel, and in the return of the exiles. The examples of this dependency help us to understand what it means to follow – to go into a new land or place, a situation to which God has called us. Clearly the focus is on where we have been sent, and the message that we bring to that place. So, it is no surprise that the disciple, no matter how high or low, are focused on the message.

What about those who provide for dependent messengers? And so, it is that three strangers appear in Abraham’s camp. That they were angels (messengers) is not important right away. Abraham takes the initiative and offers them hospitality – water for refreshment and bathing, a place to rest, and a bit of bread. Later there would be the luxuries of a meal – veal and milk curds. The bulk of the reading in the lectionary acquaints us with the details of Abraham and Sarah’s hospitality to the stranger. So, our focus is here first. 

In the Gospel we hear of Martha, who greets Jesus by the roadside in the village where she lived with her sister. Martha understands the rule of hospitality and invites Jesus, and presumably the other disciples, into her home. She quickly works to make that hospitality real, as she observes the ancient requirements of the road and wilderness. And she serves as an example to the disciples, preparing them for their duties as dependent disciples.

In the psalm for today, the author poses both a question and an answer that may guide us in our attention to the texts for this Sunday. The psalmist asks, “LORD, who will sojourn in Your tent, who will dwell on Your holy mountain?” In other words, who will be the dependent stranger seeking God’s hospitality? And then, just as quickly he or she provides the answer, “The one who walks blameless and does justice and speaks the truth in their heart.” The psalmist attempts to get at the heart of righteousness, as does Jesus as he guides his disciples amongst the people that they are sent to proclaim the kingdom to. 

Righteousness, it appears, was a common objective in the ancient world, and it was closely aligned not so much with the knowledge one had of the heavens and the gods as how one was responsible to fellow human beings. This week while perusing a new collection of Ancient Egyptian Literature[1], I chanced upon a monumental inscription from the tomb of Nefer-Seshem-Re, called Sheshi. In it he describes a righteous life.

“I judged between two so as to content them,

I rescued the weak from one stronger than he

As much as was in my power

I gave bread to the hungry, clothes,

I brought the boatless to land,

I buried him who had no son,

I made a boat for him who lacked one,

I respected my father, I pleased my mother,

I raised their children,”[2]

It is a grander view of hospitality than just food, drink, and rest. It is an attentiveness to the neighbor, much like we read about in the story of the Good Samaritan, last Sunday. Discipleship, it seems, is an attentiveness to all that encompasses our neighbor. The dependent disciples see the needs and dependencies of a fellow human being.

Disciples as Attentive

In the Divine Liturgy celebrated in the Orthodox Churches, the Liturgy of Saint John Chrysostom, at the Gospel, there is a dialogue between priest, people, and deacon and people. It goes like this:

Priest:         Wisdom. Arise. Let us hear the Holy Gospel. Peace be with all.

People:        And with your spirit.

Deacon:      The reading is from the Holy Gospel according to (Matthew, Mark, Luke or John).

Priest:         Let us be attentive.

People:        Glory to You, O Lord, glory to You.[3]

The word that captures the moment for me is the priest’s injunction, “Let us be attentive. And with this we come to the second part of the Gospel for today.

The reverie about Martha’s hospitality, indeed Abraham’s and Sarah’s as well cannot last long. Jesus’ gently chides Martha about getting lost in her hospitality and focuses on Mary’s attentiveness to the message that Jesus is bringing. We have the same situation in the first reading. The strangers, after their sumptuous meal, bring the attention of their hosts to a promise that they bring (and here we discover them as angels, or as the Orthodox see it, the Godhead itself). They call Abraham and Sarah’s attention to the message, the promise that they bring, “I will surely return to you in due season, and your wife Sarah shall have a sun.” This is a big surprise to the woman who thought herself barren and to the man who though he would have no heir. The message is of hope – the Kingdom of God is near.

What would I like for you to take home with you today? It is simply that following Jesus, being a disciple of his is a delicate balance of these two aspects: hospitality and attentiveness to the message all done in the ancient virtues of righteousness. The righteousness God provides to us, for God sees us righteous beings, objects of God’s love. The other two aspects are our responsibility. We see both these elements in our liturgy – examples of what life must be like for those who follow Jesus. Hospitality in the Eucharist, and attentiveness to the message, the Gospel. As you continue to walk into the future, I hope that these elements will inform the steps you plan to take. If these elements were a reality, a virtue in our country and in our society our times might be different. 

It won’t be easy. Sarah laughed at the promise, and I am certain that Martha and countless other women who have been marginalized by the church were offended and diminished. Our giving to the stranger, our attentiveness to the stranger, our good news for the stranger, this is what Jesus has asked us to give.

SDG

---

[1]     Lichtheim. M. ed. (2019), Ancient Egyptian Literature, University of California Press, Berkeley

[2]     Ibid, page 49f.

[3]     https://www.goarch.org/-/the-divine-liturgy-of-saint-john-chrysostom

The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 9, 7 July 2019

Preaching at Saint Mark's Church, Berkeley, California
The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 9
7 July 2019

“Sent”

II Kings 5:2-24

Isaiah 66:10-14

Psalm 66:10-14

Galatians 6: [1-6[ 7-16

St. Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

INI

Sent as an invalid

In the revised common lectionary, which we use here, during the period of Ordinary Time (you can tell when that is when the altar is adorned with green) there are optional readings for every Sunday. Track One’s first reading is a continuous reading out of the Hebrew Scriptures, the idea being that over time you would hear the continuity of the biblical witness. The same technique is used with the second reading that moves in continuous fashion through the Pauline corpus. Track One is not used here, at least in my experience. Track Two has the same second reading and gospel as Track One, but the first reading is thematically matched with that of the gospel for the day. This morning, however, the first reading from Track One is so important to our purposes this morning, that I have asked xxxx to read it to you now.

II Kings 5:1-14

Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favor with his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy. Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman's wife. She said to her mistress, "If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy." So Naaman went in and told his lord just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. And the king of Aram said, "Go then, and I will send along a letter to the king of Israel."

He went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. He brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, "When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy." When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, "Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me."

But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, "Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel." So Naaman came with his horses and chariots and halted at the entrance of Elisha's house. Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, "Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored, and you shall be clean." But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, "I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?" He turned and went away in a rage. But his servants approached and said to him, "Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, `Wash, and be clean'?" So, he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.

So then, what is the point of having you hear this familiar story of the Aramean general who was asked to go wash in the Jordan? Part of it might be the role of the young woman, a captive and slave of the Arameans, who none-the-less not only does not abandon her religion but risks in the midst of a precarious situation by inserting herself into her master’s intimate problems. She recommends her religious holy man, Elisha, as a possible solution to the general’s dilemma – his having some sort of dread skin disease. I could go on how her example might be an example to all of us in our need to share what it is we believe with those who need healing or by being someone to listen to their needs. There is more than this, however, in this reading.

It’s really quite minor, but it also serves as an example to us. The general is sent (the Greek verb here is apostellofrom which we get the word “apostle”) he is sent to do a simple thing. Elisha directs him to wash in the Jordan River. There are objections, because he insists that his own national waters are just as good as, if not superior to the Jordan. Does this sound familiar. Again, his servants take a risk, and remind him of the simple task that he has been given. 

Sometimes, when we are ill or in the need of healing, we are asked to do a simple thing, but our pride gets in the way. That is what is happening to a friend of mine at this point in his life. The simple needs of reordering life so that he might become healthy are made difficult by his pride, or perhaps his denial. Thus, the healing is prolonged by an emotional response to what is needed.

Sent to a difficult place

Sometimes we are sent to difficult places to not only be healed but to heal as well. Jesus asks seventy of his disciples to go out and to announce the Gospel, to heal not only themselves but others with the Good News. He sends them out diminished, without anything but the most basic of necessities. He sends them to places that will receive them, and places that will not. He sends them to people who will listen, and to people who will turn away. He sends them out as beggars and homeless! We don’t know that in our culture, where monks, religious, and clergy live quite well. In Asia it’s a different story, where the sight of a begging monk is common and expected. Thus, it’s a difficult sending out for some of us, taking so little for the task.

And, as we learned last Sunday, sometimes the sending to a difficult place is a difficult situation being sent to us. What that troubled young woman asked for were the essential parts of our faith. “Give me some water!” And when we responded with the water one would drink it soon became clear that she was talking about baptismal water – water that heals. Later it was another demand, “Where’s the bread and wine?” Again, more than food but rather a healing meal. It was a healing that we could not accomplish – others would be more equipped to do that. Perhaps, though, it was a healing for us – a realization that we have things here that people need. Water for healing, bread and wine to assuage spiritual hunger – these are common things for us. 

The seventy come back from their mission boasting at their success in casting out demons. Jesus will have none of it. He says, “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” The spirits don’t seem to submit to us all the time, or in the manner we think that they should. Sometimes words of peace given to a troubled soul are lost on that soul. But you, your name is written in heaven. Again, I think Maria had an understanding of this. “Call me by my name; say my name!” The demand was not unfamiliar with the faith and her status before God. Her name is written in heaven as well as yours and mine.

Sent as a healer

I’d like to look at the real first reading for this morning, the reading from Third Isaiah, in which he pictures Jerusalem as a nursing mother – a provider of nourishment but who has her own needs. God is aware of her needs, our needs, Maria’s needs, the guy on the sidewalk’s needs. “As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you.” It was our world that visited us last Sunday, sick, needy, forsaken, yearning, angry, and comfortless. The question that we need to ask is, “Is this place, is this Jerusalem, the mother to those who are needy?” If we are apostles, then we are “sent ones” sent to heal and to comfort. God knows there is plenty of opportunity. I think we are sent to give witness to the call that Christians have to heal and to dare to heal in a world that seems to have turned its face away from what Christ has asked us to be. 

Isaiah, unlike many in our culture, sees the city as a place of salvation and healing. “You shall be comforted in Jerusalem.” The doing of that will be difficult and wrenching at times. So perhaps we are called to heal one another as we struggle with our being sent out to the difficult places of our time. The young girl in Aram, Namaan, Elisha, the Seventy, the whole of Jerusalem all saw the challenge of being God’s agent and God’s good news in times that were challenging and difficult. So, let us wash ourselves in the remembrance of our baptism. Let us be fed with the body and blood of Christ, and let us continue to be sent, to ourselves, to our neighbors, to our supposed enemies. Let us be sent to all that God has shown to us as the plentiful harvest.

SDG

Some Thoughts on the First Sunday after the Gerasene Demoniac

Some Thoughts on the First Sunday after the Gerasene Demoniac

A couple of words of explanation are due anyone who chooses to read this reflection on the experiences of this day, 30 June 2019, The Third Sunday after Pentecost. The first is that last Sunday’s Gospel, Saint Luke 8::26-29, is the account of Jesus’ healing the so-called “Gerasene Demoniac” a man possessed by demons who is healed by Jesus. The second is that this morning at Saint Mark’s Church in Berkeley, the liturgy was interrupted in its entirety by a very troubled young woman. These thoughts are a way of my coming to grips with the experience she provided for us this morning and understanding it in the light of the Gospel reading for the Sunday prior. 

When I say the word “Gospel” in my preaching or in casual conversation, it strikes me as a gentle thing – the “good news”. And we and I tend to think on Jesus’ actions in the Gospels as being gentle, restrained, kind – except when they are not such as the cleansing of the Temple, or his words to the disciples when he was interrupted by his family. The Gospel, in truth, can be tough. Knowing its insights and living them can be almost disturbing.

The connections of the young woman this morning, and last Sunday’s Gospel are remarkable. Her first interruption came after the sermon as she stood resolutely at the baptismal font and made a demand for water. The reaction was quick – here is a bottle of water, here is a cup of water. But no, she wanted water. The priest understood, I think, she wanted baptism. Later she would demand bread and wine. The pulse and pace of the liturgy were too much for her as her needs were immediate. More about that later, however. Here was a troubled person. It would be unkind and unfair to call her “the demoniac” (we don’t think in those terms these days) but the behaviors and demands bore a resemblance. “Call me by my name,” she shouted several times. She doubted the authenticity of the priest, and the church itself. It was a stand-off. What would Jesus do?

This is where I felt as though I had stepped out of my body and was viewing the situation well apart from the action, and wondering what the Gospel, or the liturgy had to do with all that was going on. Some sat in their pews, waiting for normalcy to return. Others gathered with the young woman at the font, attempting to comfort her and to meet her needs. Others looked at the situation for what it was – a troubled person who certainly needed bread and wine and water and yet more than that. She needed help and healing. The question was one of how to intervene.

My focus kept being drawn in so many directions. The liturgy, especially the Eucharistic Prayer demanding my attention, the police at the door waiting to be of service, a visiting priest calming and praying with the young woman, the medical doctor observing the melt-down of a personality and wanting to get her aid, the visiting organist wondering what to do, the woman holding the hands of the young woman, those gathered with her at the font, and those sitting in the pews, the other priests in attendance standing by, just in case.

For me the question was one of meeting her needs both spiritual and physical/mental. She was wanting an immediacy that could not be afforded her. The quiet of Jesus’ healing seemed to be missing here. It wasn’t quiet. It was angry, demanding, soul-wrenching, and loud. It was a demand for attention, as she stood at the altar, now, banging her hands on the mensa. What would Jesus have done? Demanding and riveting her attention was not possible. Perhaps it was in the hands of the visiting priest, and the other woman at the font who comforted, allowing time to pass so that physical aid could be given. The spiritual aid seemed vapid and ineffectual, and yet I wonder. 

Perhaps this was a visit by an angel, or better yet the Holy Spirit, demanding that we understand ourselves and what we could offer and how we could aid. A mighty wind had blown into the nave and chancel of Saint Mark’s Church. Next Sunday I will gather with others from St. Mark’s to see what lessons were learned, how Christ may have been served, and what will again be demanded of us. The young woman was taken away and is now, I hope, receiving the help that she so desperately needs. The question, however, still remains, "Where will we go from here?" In the prior Sunday's Gospel Jesus asks the name of the man/demon, and he replies, "My name is legion." Legion indeed, so many people needing aid and healing in our society. We cannot sit idly by.

Homily on the Second Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 7, 23 June 2019

“Enemies”

The Second Sunday after Pentecost

Proper 7

23 June 2019

Trinity+St. Peter’s Episcopal Church

San Francisco, California

I Kings 19:1-15a

Psalm 42/43

Galatians 3:23-29

St. Luke 8:16-39

INI

It has been a while since I have stood in this place and expounded on the Scriptures to you – and you’ve grown and merged in the meanwhile, so to some of you I am a stranger. First of all, it is an honor to be here, especially since on this day I celebrate the 48^thanniversary of my ordination. It was here, amongst you, however, that I made life-changing decisions about moving from the Lutheran Church to the Episcopal Church. I have so many to thank, but in this regard hold David Forbes, Evan Ardley, Bishop Otis Charles, and James Tramel for their encouragement to me. It is a transition that I welcomed and am grateful for. 

Secondly, one of the things that helps a preacher preach is that intimate knowledge that he or she has of those who will be listening to his wrestling with the word. Too much time has passed for me to know what your issues are, how you are thinking now, and what future visions you might have. So I will leap into the readings seeing what I find. It will be your judgment as to whether or not my gleanings are helpful to your journey. I think that it is time for a prayer to the Holy Spirit that she guide both preacher and congregation in this endeavor.

The title for this sermon is “Enemies”. Let me say at the outset that I have chosen this title because that is what we have all become at this period of time in our country. As I reencounter old classmates from boarding school, college, and seminary, I discover that we are set against each other on so many issues. Some of that is the work of elements in our society who profit from our quarrels. Some of it is the economics of our time, and a great deal of it is an attitude of blame toward others that seems to infect all of us. The readings have a sense of enemy as well – Ahab and Jezebel against Elijah, Jesus against the demons, the possessed man against the demons, and the people who find Jesus’ healing of the man fearsome and difficult. So then the question becomes, “Who are our, yours, mine, enemies?

I could not escape this particular take on these readings because as I read them, I realized that I have often taken the stance of the righteous man against the others. It’s not a healthy position. I can remember in the early struggles in the Church regarding women, and then regarding LGBTQ people, that I saw myself on the right side. And I was. Unfortunately, that realization is accompanied by a characterization of all others as being wrong. The difficulty with that is that conversation, words, communication all stop in the face of such an attitude.

Prior to the first reading Elijah sets up a contest between the Ba’alim – the gods of Canaan and Phoenicia (the gods of Jezebel) and YHWH. When YHWH wins the contest, Elijah then goes on to slaughter the priests of the Ba’alim. So much for ecumenism. We might give Elijah an out for serving the “true God”, however the conversation between the religions of the Levant and Yahwism, and Persia and Yahwism would go on, each influencing the other. The growth was in the conversation.

Luke relates the story of the man possessed by demons for a variety of reasons. He wants us to see Jesus operating in the territory of the enemy. The Gerasenes are not Jews and do not honor the traditions of the Jews. Witness the herd of pigs that are present in the story – First clue that this is not a Jewish story. Luke wants us to see Jesus’ appeal even in a foreign situation, with a foreign people. And what does Jesus come to do with them – healing.

We might be put off a bit when Jesus refuses the man’s request to follow him. Jesus sends him back to his own community not because he is not welcome in the Jesus Community, but because that community including him is welcomed into the larger community that wants to follow Jesus. 

Luke would be alarmed at how we treat the stranger and the foreigner. He would be railing at the atrocities at our southern border. We need to have our minds challenged about who our fellow travelers are. Here, in this story, it is the foreigner, the mentally ill, the dispossessed. Yesterday I had lunch with cousins, newly met. We are second cousins, related through my Großmama Hiller’s family. As we got to know one another we shared what we do in life. Kokyo said to me, “You come from a long line of Lutheran clergy, don’t you?” That is indeed true, and I related how my husband Arthur always talks about this as the “family racket.” My sister Bonnie corrected the situation. “It’s the family business!” She replied. There was a silence and then Kokyo said, “I’m a Buddhist priest.” Another silence and then all of us muttered, “The family business.”

The questions that Christians and other religious people need to ask is, “What are our connections?” The question that Americans of all political stripes need to ask is “What are our connections?” The question that Christians of the various denominations need to ask is “What are our connections?” What is our common vision of God?

In the first reading Elijah, running away from the wrath of his enemies Ahab and Jezebel, goes up to the mountain, Sinai. Surely God would be there. And he waits. There is a great wind, but no God. There is an earthquake, but no God. There was a fire (are you recognizing Pentecost in this) but no God. Finally, there was the sound of sheer silence.

We complain in our time that God is silent. God seems to be silent in the face of evil and difficult times. Perhaps we are being called to profoundly listen to the silence, for I believe in the silence there is an answer that comes to us as we listen deeply and boldly. Perhaps we need to have the words of Paul break into our meditative silence and remind us that there is no longer Jew, or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female. What might we add to that list of potential enemies? He says that we are, all of us, heirs according to the promise – the promise given Abraham. 

Let me tell you a story. When I was in Seminary there was a fight between the right and left in the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod. The majority of the faculty at the seminary was against a few conservatives who were making life quite difficult for all of us. One day at the community mass, I was sitting next to my Hebrew professor, and in this liturgy, prior to the passing of the peace the celebrant would quote Jesus. “If when you are offering your gift, you suddenly remember that you have a grievance with your brother, leave your gift where it is, make peace with your brother, and then offer your gift.” We all passed the peace, and my professor, after offering the peace, left the chapel. Later I sought him out. “Why did you leave?” I asked. He said, “I had to go make peace with another professor. I could not receive the Eucharist until I did.” It is a lesson that I have never forgotten. I bequeath it to you as well.

SDG