Pentecost 3 : Two-Part Miracles

The Ven. Richard I. Cluett
June 25, 2006 (Proper 7)
Job 38:1-11, Mark 4:35-41

Well, here is an old, old story of Jesus and his love.

Do you remember that old, old hymn:
I love to tell the story ... Of Jesus and His glory, of Jesus and His love. I love to tell the story, because I know ’tis true; It satisfies my longings as nothing else can do.
I love to tell the story, ’twill be my theme in glory, To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.

This is an old, old story of Jesus and the power of his love. Love strong enough to still the waves. Strong enough to move mountains. Strong enough to bridge over troubles waters. Strong enough to calm a raging fear. Strong enough to soothe an anxious heart.

I have been to Galilee and I have seen the Sea. I want to tell you it is a small, small sea, more a lake than an ocean; oval in shape, it is 13 miles long and 8 miles at is widest point.

I have been on a lake about that size when a storm has come up with a mighty and erratic wind that capsized my small sailing boat and threw me and my companions into the raging water a mile from shore. If I remember correctly, I think I was too busy surviving to call upon God for rescue, but if I had had the time, I know I would have done so with a mighty, and soulful cry.

A small boat in a stormy sea is a good metaphor for life, a good metaphor for faith. There’s nothing like a good, perfect storm to put our personal and human power into perspective. Perhaps I should say, to put the puny nature of our personal and human power into perspective.

There is good reason for the Sailor’s Prayer to be, “O LORD, watch over me for the sea is so great and my boat is so small.”

But isn’t the American ideal about exercising control over one’s life; being in control of our relationships, controlling our personal destiny?

Father Frank Wade writes: “Being in control of one's life is a virtue we admire greatly in this country. The discipline of the athlete, the successful professional, the wise investor, the accomplished artist. William Bennett's popular Book of Virtues fairly bulges with stories of responsible people in firm control of their lives.

“On the other hand, one of the harshest judgments we make is on people who are out of control in one way or another. To let your car get out of control is a crime...to let your emotions get out of control is an embarrassment...when your children are out of control it is considered a failure...with the mind out of control it is an illness. When our finances are out of control, they lead to bankruptcy and ruin. We take control very seriously in our community and rightly so.”

Control, and worrying about being out of control. Valuing an impossibility. Controlling life is an oxymoron.

Stress management experts say that only two percent of our "worrying time" is spent on things that might actually be helped by worrying. The other 98 percent of this time is spent thusly:
- 40% on things that never happen
- 35% on things that can't be changed
- 15% on things that turn out better than expected
- 8% on useless, petty worries

It is an old, old story.

But there are also times when we are so in touch with our limits, our frailty, our finitude that we anxiously wait for rescue, eagerly seek succor, hopefully expect salvation. And there is Jesus “in the stern asleep on the cushion”!

Where is a savior when you need one? Is God really a present help in trouble? Didn’t God say to Job,
"…(It was God who) who shut in the sea with doors
when it burst out from the womb? --
when I made the clouds its garment,
and thick darkness its swaddling band,
and prescribed bounds for it,
and set bars and doors,
and said, `Thus far shall you come, and no farther,
and here shall your proud waves be stopped'?

“O LORD, watch over me for the sea is so great and my boat is so small.” Where are you? I need you now?

O LORD, my child is so sick! O LORD, I am so alone! O LORD, the world is such a mess! O LORD, I’ve lost my job! O LORD, I’ve lost my way! O LORD, I am sinking! O LORD, I don’t know what to do! O LORD, save me!

It is an old, old story. Who has not uttered such a prayer? Who has not called on the name of the LORD in utter distress? Who has not invoked the power of God to save? You? You have not? Then wait, you will.

And will the LORD come, mighty to save? Will the Lord calm the sea? Will the Lord still the wind? Yes, even within the raging storm we can see God at work.

Have you thought it through, though? Jesus calms the sea and stills the wind and there is a dead calm. Then what? Stilling the wind stops sailboats dead in the water. How are you going to get through? How are you going to get home? How are you going to get to the shore? Jesus isn’t Commander Scotty on Star Trek. He’s not gonna “beam you up.”

I think there is only one way, the only way is to row… to pull hard on the oars, to break a sweat, to use the God-given power we do have, to take advantage of the opportunity afforded by the miracle at hand, to get to work, to pull hard and to row like hell.

We well can pray that Jesus would work miracles in our lives and in our world and in our church. We can count on that happening. We can count on Him. We also need to be prepared to do the work necessary to finish off the miracle, to bring it to fulfillment, to arrive safely on shore. Along with the sea and the wind, we, too, are called to obedience, to discipline, to work, to cooperate with the miracle of his love.

It is an old, old story about Jesus and his love and us. Thanks be to God.

Amen.

General Convention: Christian Formation Is a Life-long Process

The past 11 days our deputies and bishops have traveled the mountains and valleys together. And as some have remarked, we have limped across the finish line. Our grateful hearts are with our deputies and bishops as they travel home.

When I agreed to blog I knew that much of the work of GC would be overshadowed by the response to the Windsor Report. And, so I committed to keeping before me the fullness of the work of the Church. Here is a summary of those resolutions I promised to follow. I pray that we will continue to listen to the Holy Spirit and to do the work that God has brought before us.

Resolution A067 (amended) passed. This resolution approves, for experimental use, additional prayers and liturgies for transitions in life.

Resolution A070 passed. The Standing Committee on Liturgy and Music is asked to develop liturgies for pastoral issues that relate to the adoption of a child.

Resolution A089 (amended) passed. This resolution affirms the work of the Pastoral Leadership Search Effort (PLSE; pronounced "pulse"), and requests PB&F to allocate about $386,000 to the PLSE initiative.

Resolution A100 was not considered at GC 2006. This resolution identified Christian formation to be in a state of crisis and sought more adequate methods for reporting the state of Christian formation to General Convention.

Resolution A105 passed. This resolution establishes a Standing Commission on Lifelong Christian Education and Formation.

I am awestruck by the stamina and commitment of our deputies and bishops. They have struggled through blood, sweat, and tears to respond to the Windsor Report in a way that expresses our desire to be in conversation with the Communion They have also picked up the multitude of legislation that needed to be attended to nurture our souls. I particularly appreciate the new prayers and liturgies that recognize the continuing work of the Holy Spirit in renewing the whole creation. Let us now go and tell what we have seen~share these prayers with our fellow Episcopalians and encourage their use at gatherings~at home or at church. In the Book of Occasional Prayers you will find prayers for becoming a big brother or sister, beginning a job, important birthdays (both young and old), and reclaiming health. Yes, we have the words to celebrate God's presence and blessings!

I am also thankful that GC established a Standing Commission on Lifelong Christian Education and Formation. I was surprised by this resolution at first. Christian education and formation are foundational to ministry and mission;' why wasn't there already such a commission before?
Alas, this deficiency has been addressed. Amen to this resolution and hearty prayers for the work before them!

Thus ends the round-up. Truly, the Holy Spirit moves among us. And we need to continue to offer ourselves up to God for wholeness and healing so that we may witness to God's deep love for all creatures.

Almighty and most merciful God, grant that by the indwelling of your Holy Spirit we may be enlightened and strengthened for your service; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives, and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, on God, now and for ever. Amen. (BCP, p. 251)

In peace,

Jenifer

My teacher let me see again.

From back home in Bethlehem, PA it appears that night has fallen upon General Convention. My heart is heavy and prayers ever fervent for a way forward. A posting on the Bethlehem ecunet listserve speaks of blindness. Are we, like blind Bartimaeus, being asked "What do you want me to do for you?" Will we, like Bartimaeus ask, "My teacher let me see again." And, when given sight, will we, like Bartimaeus, leave the comfort of what is familiar to follow Jesus?

I offer this prayer for all of us this day:

Ever present God of light and darkness, help us to see our blindness.
Son who bears our blindness, give us courage to ask to see again.
Spirit of the truth and justice, give us strength to follow your Way.

(See Mark 10 for the full story of Bartimaeus' courage to ask and follow.)

Jenifer

Acknowledging pain, or changing direction?

It strikes me that it is important that the language of "regret" does not get mixed up with the word "repent". From what I heard at General Convention, particularly +Gene Robinson's moving sermon at the Integrity Eucharist (God loves us and asks us to respond by loving more) tells me that we do see the pain in the Communion and indeed weep because of it. We regret because we see the pain endured by God's children. The word "regret" seems to ring true. Looking at the etymology of the word "regret" has clarified this for me:

Middle English regretten, to lament, from Old French regreter: re-, re- + -greter, to weep (perhaps of Germanic origin) (American Heritage Dictionary, 2000)

Indeed we do weep and lament the consequences of our actions on the Communion. We weep for misunderstanding one another. We lament that we do not accept one another as made in the image of God....as whole people and of God. If we are being asked to say that we regret, we must search the depths of our hearts. We must feel the pain of our brothers and sisters in the Communion~the pain of those who see the brokenness of our common life. The brokenness of not being able to break bread together in our wholeness and in our brokennes. Asking for a statement of regret asks us to feel and witness to that pain.

Repent is altogether something different. I means to turn around, to walk in the opposite direction. I don't believe we can do this and live into the life that God is calling us. Turning around means changing behavior in a way that would deny the wholeness of God's people. We cannot repent the raising up of a bishop by the people of New Hampshire. It would deny the work of the Holy Spirit among us and the poeple of New Hampshire three years ago in 2003.

Some have suggested that we will be asked to regret the election of +Katharine Jefferts Shori. Perhaps this too will cause pain. From the request of different Primatial oversight by at least one PECUSA diocese, perhaps it has caused pain. Perhaps we will, again, take on the difficult work of listening to the pain. And perhaps we will let God do God's work of healing.

I do weep for the pain our actions have inflicted. We cannot fix that pain. We can, however, offer the pain to God and continue to offer ourselves to God for healing too.

Jenifer

Pentecost 2: Small Seeds

The Ven. Howard Stringfellow III
June 18, 2006
I Samuel 15:34—16:13; Psalm 20; Saint Mark 4:26-34

In the Name of the True and Living God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

I am delighted to be with you once again. Your healthy congregation, your healthy clergy, and your healthy staff are continuing to succeed in keeping me on the right side of the law. And I am grateful. I am a true church mouse. I would rather be here than at convention, or camp, or even the golf course.

Not lost on me today is that we have two tiny parables that begin with tiny seeds while it is Father’s Day, while the Cathedral’s campers are camping, and while conventioneers are conventioneering in Columbus. Amid all of these contexts we have tiny parables that begin with tiny seeds.

We begin today, also, the long sequence of Green Sundays, Sundays where we pretty well work our way through the Gospel of Saint Mark from chapter four to chapter thirteen from now until Advent Sunday, December 3.

It’s a time of year when we look at Jesus in the Gospel and see him as a teacher and a healer. We put aside, for a time, his identity as the Lamb of God who was sacrificed for us and for the sins of the whole world, and look to him as a teacher, a reconciler, and a healer.

And what do we see in him today? We see him teaching through two tiny parables some remarkable things, some things that may startle us by taking from us the control we may think we have.

He tells us, in the first parable, of seeds that are planted and then harvested. No human effort is required between the planting and the harvesting. That, to me, is very striking. The seed grows, as we hear, the planter “does not know how.” And also, in the second parable, the kingdom of God begins as the smallest of seeds and grows into “the greatest of all shrubs.”

I’m bound to tell you that the certainty of the harvest from nearly invisible beginnings with very little human effort appeals to my Type B personality and my tendency to under-function. The kingdom resists our control. We cannot sell it, market it, duplicate it, preach it, represent it, or otherwise do anything to make it grow. God does all these things. God’s work begins exactly where ours ends. We have been entrusted with tiny seeds to plant, and we plant them and harvest them as best we can. God does the rest. Type A personalities and over-functioners beware. Planters, real farmers, when they have finished irrigating, spraying, and fertilizing still wait in faith. They wait in the mystery of God’s time, and they wait in the unknown of God’s pleasure. The growth happens while they sleep and not as a result of their efforts.

Father’s Day, campers upon returning home, and even a contentious convention are opportunities, fields to plow and to plant for those of us who join in the celebrations and who stayed home. And we have some tiny, almost invisible, seeds, seeds that contain a certain harvest, seeds that certainly will grow into what God wants them to be. What more could we ask?

Who knows how some small gesture of friendship, some brief word of encouragement, some kind deed hastily done, or some small act of putting oneself out has grown in someone whom Christ dearly loves? Who knows how many people have seen their faith in Christ increase because they have received some tiny seeds? Nothing that we do in God’s name is too small to be used in his kingdom.

Silently and imperceptibly at times, perhaps, the kingdom grows. We can let, I think, all of our personalities go. What Jesus asks of us is not one type of personality or another, or one program of growth or another, but to rely upon the promise of the kingdom just as we know we have to rely upon God when we plant a seed. Seeds grow in the dark ground even when we cannot see them. Seeds grow in us and in our world, yearning for meaning and purpose, even when we cannot see them.

In Christ’s Name. Amen.

Eucharists at Convention (Jenifer Gamber)

Celebrating Eucharist

After two flights ~one to D.C. and another to Columbus~I've arrived at my first Convention. I am here as a guest, but here nonetheless. Nick is right about the Convention Hall. Cavernous. Delegations have brought things to make it home for the week: the Star of Bethlehem sits atop the pole at the Bethlehem deputation. A chicken perches on the pole from the Diocese of Northwest Texas, a loon at Michigan's table and a lobster at Maryland. Yes, our deputations are open to holy humor, which brings me to my next GC topic~a rag by the name of "The unConventional Times: The Unofficial Journal of the 75th General Convention." Evidently we Episcopalians have been celebrating way too much. This is what The unConventional Times reported today:

"The U2charist. The General Convention's daily Eucharist. The Integrity Eucharist. Alternative Eucharists.... that are straight BCP ('28 or '79 we don't know). Everywhere you go at Convention there is a Eucharist taking place. The Episcopal predilection to celebrate Eucharist has spawned a new group called Episcopalians Newly United for Fewer Eucharists (ENUFE).

The rubrics say you must have two people to celebrate Eucharist, not when you have two people you must celebrate Eucharist," said a spokesperson for ENUFE. The group is also annoyed by all the services being held by special interest groups. In response, ENUFE will be holding a Nocharist. The service will be open to everyone."

I personally am sorry to have missed the U2charist. (Hmmm, maybe we'll have to celebrate one in Bethlehem.) I love Eucharist --gathering around the table and sharing a meal. Don't we need to gather to be nourished? And isn't it around the table that we really get to know one another? Just hours after arriving, my friend Ann Fontaine and I attended the Integrity Eucharist along with hundreds of people. It was packed~not just the nave, but the basement too. Tomorrow morning, I'll be taking communion again at 10 am. We sure do love to party. And Jesus does too...he's there every time.

~Jenifer
p.s. Saturday at 3pm I'll be signing copies of my book My Faith, My Life: A Teen's Guide to the Episcopal Churchk at the Church Publishing booth in the Exhibit Hall. I signed a book today for Angela, a teen from Florida who had been having a hard time finding a book for herself. Where are those books for teens? Makes me wonder.....why doesn't the Episcopal Church have books about faith for teens? Teens are asking.

General Convention Humor

It appears that Episcopalians have roundly rejected the cucumber sandwich.

[I]n an exercise conducted to help deputies learn to use a touchpad voting system, deputies voted down a resolution to make the cucumber sandwich the official food of the Episcopal Church in an exercise conducted to help deputies learn to use a touchpad voting system, deputies voted down a resolution to make the cucumber sandwich the official food of the Episcopal Church. as reported by The Daily Episcopalian.

How about a vote on the proper placement of the dessert fork? (grin)

~Jenifer

General Convention Resolutions about Children and Youth (Jenifer Gamber)

Well, I promised to post about resolutions. So, I'll cease my digression about Kanuga and get onto the task. This will be a quick and dirty summary:

Resolution A070 asks the Standing Committee on Liturgy and Music to develop liturgies for pastoral issues that relate to the adoption of a child.

Resolution A089 seeks to affirm the work of the Pastoral Leadership Search Effort (PLSE; pronounced "pulse"), an organization that helps denominations and congregations identify and cultivate gifted young people interested in exploring the ministry as a possible vocation.
The resolution asks for GC to allocate about $386,000 to the PLSE initiative.

Resolution A100 identifies Christian formation to be in a state of crisis and seeks more adequate methods for reporting the state of Christian formation to General Convention. The resolution also asks for the development of special forms of prayers of the people and other resources to emphasize Christian formation and strategies for incorporating formation into all areas of parish life.

Resolution A105 seeks to establish a Standing Commission on Youth and Christian Formation that will develop policies for lifelong Christian formation. The resolution requests $48,000 to implement the resolution.

The National Association for Episcopal Christian Education Directors (NAECED) has published thoughtful position papers that include both appreciations for and concerns about specific resolutions regarding Christian formation. NAECED representatives urged the Joint Standing Committee for Program, Budget, and Finance at a Monday hearing to allocate additional funds to children's ministry and Christian education to provide more balanced funding with the budget allocation for Youth and Young Adults. The ENS covered the hearing.

~Jenifer Gamber

General Convention and Faith Formation in the Home (Jenifer Gamber)

"Will you be responsible for seeing that the child you present is brought up in the Christian faith and life?" "Will you by your prayers and witness help this child to grow into the full stature of Christ?" The celebrant asks the parents and godparents these two questions when they present a child for baptism. The parents answer them saying, "I will with God's help.
These questions and promises recognize the reality that parents carry the primary responsibility of growing faith in, and with, children. This is nothing new. The words that following the shema in Deuteronomy of the Hebrew Scripture command us to recite our faith and tell it to our children.

We began this morning at Kanuga with these promises and by recognizing the importance of faith formation in the home. The reality is Sunday School teachers see children for just one or two hours a week. It is in the rhythm of daily life at home and at school that children learn about who they are and who God is. Parents are the primary teachers. So, we shared family rituals that inform and form the faith in our families~daily devotions, a blessing cup, family covenants and intentional times for thanksgiving and intercession. Having caring conversations, telling stories, and intentionally recognizing one another as God's people opens our eyes and the eyes of our children to God's daily presence in our lives. We will bring these treasures home to share with our parents.

I am pleased to see that the resolutions being considered during the triennium also recognize the primary role of parents in faith formation.

The Resolution on the Rites of Passage asks the General Convention to offer opportunities to ask for God's blessings and offer that blessing to the Christian community during times of significant change. These opportunities are in the form of additional prayers and rites of passage in the Book of Occassional Services. The prayers provide the words to help parents recognize developmental moments for their children: becoming a big brother or sister, starting a school year, earning a driver's license, and graduating from high school.The rites of passage are liturgies to be celebrated during worship. The Rite of Passage for Young People and Their Parents affirms and upholds young people as they grow and mature and continues to reaffirm the important work of parenting. Two other proposed rites for young people include the celebration of a significant birthday and the declation of the intention for marriage. Truly, faith formation is a lifelong process. The resolution also offers prayers and rites for transitions in midlife and transitions of elders.

These prayers and rites recognize God's abiding grace in our lives and that much of our formation happens in the home and through daily life.

I'm off to Eucharist centered on images of Christ. The celebrant has been integrating projected images throughout our time together. Later this evening, I will tell more about resolutions at GC. See you then!
~Jenifer Gamber, reporting at the request of Rick Cluett, Interim Dean and Rector of the Cathedral Church of the Nativity

Jenifer Gamber Reporting on General Convention...from Kanuga for now

Greetings from Kanuga

Hello. This is Jenifer Gamber, parishoner of the Cathedral Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, PA and author of My Faith, My Life: A Teenager's Guide to the Episcopal Church and the website myfaithmylife.org, a site for Episcopal teens, parents and youth leaders. Archdeacon Rick Cluett, Interim Dean and Rector at the Cathedral asked me to share my General Convention reporting posted on Entangledstates. I will report on General Convention on resolutions affecting the ministry of and with children and youth. A number of important resolutions concerning youth and Christian formation will be considered. I will provide a summary of these resolutions later today.

Youth are present at Convention! The Official Youth Presence is comprised of two youth from each of the nine provinces in the Episcopal Church, USA each with seat and voice at the House of Deputies at General Convention. Youth have also gathered for E3~Educate, Experience, Empower~to learn about Episcopal Church governance, experience General Convention, and become empowered to be agents of growth in their home parishes.

Until Friday, I will be watching General Convention from the Kanuga Conference Center where 80 Christian educators have gathered to "See the Big Picture" of Christian formation in our parishes. We're enjoying keynoter Tracey Herzer~listening to her story of being set afire by the Holy Spirit and saying "yes" to God and sharing our own "yes" stories. The more we listen to one another's faith stories, the more we might see that Big Picture. It is my prayer and hope that we continue to inquire and listen to one another. Through that listening we will come to know God's magnificent creation and discern our common life together in Christ.

Pentecost: Come Holy Spirit

The Ven. Richard I. Cluett
June 4, 2006
Acts 2:1-21 John 15:26-27, 16:4b-15

In John’s Gospel, Jesus has been bidding farewell to his followers. He is preparing them for his leaving and for their continuing mission in the world. He is going to the Father, but he will not abandon them. The Father will send the Holy Spirit.

The disciples still didn’t “get it” though. They were still hoping that the messiah would be a great warrior entering Jerusalem mounted on a huge white horse bringing an army to institute God’s reign. Their hope was for a Messiah who would come in a spectacular blaze of glory and who would put away all the evils and injustices of life.

As Jesus came nearer and nearer to Jerusalem and to the cross he tried to prepare his disciples for the time when he would no longer be with them, preparing them for a future quite different from that for which they had hoped. Jesus would die on the cross and the disciples would soon find themselves the object of the world’s hostility.

John wrote his gospel in a time of great persecution as well. Christians were being persecuted, martyred, imprisoned, losing their homes and their possessions, being treated as enemies of the state.

There are places in the world today where this is still true, particularly in some parts of the Far East, Middle East, and Africa. It was a major reason for the 50-year civil war in Sudan between the Arab Muslim North and the African Christian South.

Even in our own day and time and place, the world is hostile to the teaching, to the values, to the way of God taught by Jesus.

In the Acts lesson we hear of the fulfillment of the promise of Jesus as God’s Holy Spirit descends on the people – descends not as a gentle dove, but as tongues of fire to cleanse, purify, strengthen and temper the disciples for a ministry of witness to Him and to the marvelous acts of God in the face of a world hostile to God’s truth, and in such desperate need of God’s truth.

God sends the Holy Spirit. The Greek word for the Holy Spirit is “Paraclete” which has variously been translated as advocate, intercessor, teacher helper, comforter.

All of those aspects, those dimensions of the Holy Spirit are God’s gift to the disciples who must carry on the building of God’s kingdom here on earth, the speaking of God’s truth to an unbelieving and uncaring world, the nurturing and caring for the those the world considers the least and the last, the outcast, the alien, the “Other.”

What God has done through Jesus is to give our lives purpose. What God has done through the gift of the Holy Spirit is to give our lives power. Purpose and power that are best lived out when we help others to recognize their worth, their purpose, their power and that these gifts come as a gracious gift from God and they are for now, for today and for ever.

Sometimes, there are barriers that prevent people from hearing, believing, knowing this Good News. Sometimes people have to have their bellies filled first. Sometimes people have to have their fears acknowledged and assuaged first. Sometimes people have to have their isolation broken through first. Sometimes people have to have their bodies clothed first. Sometimes people have to have be sheltered first. Sometimes people need to find healing first.

Sometimes these things have to be taken care of first, before people can be ready to hear and to know the gracious goodness of God made known in Jesus and given to us through the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Sometimes people need an advocate. Sometimes people need an intercessor. Sometimes people need a teacher, someone to show them the way. Sometimes people need a helper. Sometimes people need a comforter. First, before they can receive the truth abut God’s goodness, about God’s love

Sometimes just in taking care of these things people have come to know the gracious goodness of God, because as the work of the Holy Spirit is done, people can see and hear and feel and experience that gracious love. "I am doing this because God loves me and because God loves you."

Matthew Fox reminds us: “When your gifts are put with her gifts and put with his gifts and put with my gifts, it is Pentecost because God’s spirit is poured out, and we become, in fact, one body, Christ’s body carrying the Good News of God’s gift powerfully to all races and nations; to all sorts and conditions; to the outcast and to those hidden away. All people will be able to hear in their own tongues the Good News; that means they will hear it in ways they can understand and know... they will hear in their own tongues of the mighty works of God. And they will know that they, too, are part of God’s mighty work."

It is Pentecost. Receive God’s Holy Spirit and witness to the truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Amen.

The Seventh Sunday of Easter: Who can be Redeemed?

The Rev. Canon Anne E. Kitch
May 28, Easter 7B
Acts 1:15-17, 21-26

One of the highlights of my childhood was the annual Feast of Lights pageant in my parish. It was like a Christmas pageant except it covered more of the story and was presented on the Feast of Epiphany (January 6). It began with creation and followed our salvation story through the birth of Christ to the beginning of the Church. As such it included the calling of the twelve apostles. One of the featured roles was that of Judas. The older children in the pageant each carried a lighted candle. When Judas was named as the one who betrayed Jesus, that person dramatically blew out his candle and ran from the church. He would return later in the pageant dressed as Mathias (an envied costume change).

To this day, I still remember what it felt like to hear “and Judas who betrayed him” and watch that boy blow out his candle. It was as if the light of Christ within him had been extinguished. It was as if Judas no longer existed, as if he had been Xed out.

In her beautiful children’s book The Wind through the Door, Madeline L’Engle writes about a young girl named Meg who meets a cherubim. They are sent on a special mission and Meg learns that she is called to be a Namer: someone who recognizes the true self of others and names them. She is called to help people know who they are. As the Cherubim explains the chief weapon of the fallen angels is un-naming—making people not know who they are. Meg is given the difficult task of naming Mr. Jenkins, her high school principal whom she deplores (and with good reason).
“If I hate Mr. Jenkins whenever I think of him, am I Naming him?” she asks the cherubim.
“You’re Xing him,…when people don’t know who they are, they are open either to be Xed, or Named.”

Did Judas know who he was? Did he fall prey to a fallen angel, to Satan? Was he unnamed? Who was Judas called to be?

Judas has received much attention recently due to a 1700-year-old codex containing a writing called the Gospel of Judas. A brief history: for several hundred years after the death and resurrection of Jesus many people wrote about what they saw or heard or thought had happened. Part of the work of the early church was sorting through these accounts and deciding which had veracity, which held truth and contained God’s revelation. One of these many accounts written was called the Gospel of Judas. This Gospel does not purport to be written by Judas, but rather to be a secret account of a conversation between Jesus and Judas a few days before the crucifixion. Scholars knew it was out there somewhere because other early writers referred to it; most notably Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyon, in 180. So why did this come to light now? Because the document containing this gospel was lost for more than a thousand years. The codex was discovered in Egypt (preserved by the dry dessert heat) and sold as an antiquity. Written in Coptic, it was stored---untranslated. It was sold again and put in a safety deposit box in New York for 16 years--where it deteriorated. Someone found it, restored it, pieced it together, and translated it. This spring it hit the front page of local newspapers. You can read it online or in print from the National Geographic Society---it is only about seven pages long.

One reason at least that this was big news is the number of people who thought it might shed some light on this betrayer of all betrayers. After all, the name Judas is notorious. To be a Judas is not a good thing. The question in almost every news report was, “Was Judas destined to betray Jesus?” But I think our question is an even deeper one. Can Judas be redeemed?

It seems that the early Church was satisfied with the explanation that Judas was somehow preordained to be a betrayer. This is what Peter says in the Book of Acts; “Friends, the scripture had to be fulfilled which the Holy Spirit through David foretold concerning Judas who became a guide for those who arrested Jesus.” Scripture had to be fulfilled. It’s a fine thing for Peter to say. It’s not like he ever betrayed Jesus---or denied him three times, after he swore he never would. It’s not like the other members of “The Twelve” were deserters--who ran away after Jesus was arrested and left him to die on the cross alone (it is the women, and the one beloved disciple who are found at the foot of the cross).

It is after all convenient for Peter, and for us, to have someone to pin it all on. We don’t have to think of our own capacity to deny, to betray. After all, we didn’t do what Judas did. We didn’t betray Christ. We have never disappointed someone we loved, never made a bad choice, never felt pressured by those in power. We have never been less than who we are, never been vulnerable and open to unnaming. We have never been beyond redemption. This is what I truly believe is behind our fascination with Judas. This is what is behind the question, can Judas be redeemed. Can someone who failed so miserably in the very face of Christ be redeemed? Can we be redeemed? This is the real question. Where is the point of no return? When have I crossed the line and am beyond God’s loving salvation?

From the Cherubim Meg learns that the way to name someone is to love them. Not to feel love for them, naming is not an emotional thing, but to love them. To make loving choices towards them. To act with love. How do we love Judas? How do we love Peter? How do we love those who betray us? How do we love ourselves when we betray our very souls? Are we ever beyond redemption? Beyond love? Unlovable? Unnamed?

Judas has captured the imagination of others before now. In 1928 Thornton Wilder published a volume of 3 minute plays (which he wrote in high school and college). One is called Hast Thou Considered my Servant Job? The three characters are Satan, Judas, and Christ. Taking its title from the Book of Job (in which God tells Satan that he may test his faithful servant Job) the prologue of this play suggests that Judas is the servant of Satan, evil and faithless. As God allowed Satan to tempt Job, so Satan allows Christ to tempt Judas. The setting is after Christ’s death. As Christ ascends to his place he pauses by the realm of Satan. Satan expresses his surprise and delight at Christ’s defeat. He can hardly believe how all betrayed this Son of God. And where is his beloved fiend Judas? Judas appears, black ligature marks still visible on his neck. Satan welcomes him home. But rather than crossing to him, Judas casts the thirty pieces away from him in revulsion.

Satan speaks, “What have they done to you, …why don’t you speak to me, my son, my treasure!”

Judas is silent, eyes downcast.

Christ says to him, “Speak to him then, my beloved son.”

Judas speaks softly to Satan, “Accursed be thou, from eternity to eternity.”

The two mount upward to their due place. And Satan remains to this day, uncomprehending, upon the pavement of hell.

After all, Judas did repent. What is offered to all who repent? Where is the end of God’s redeeming power? There is no end to God’s love.

The Sixth Sunday of Easter: Endurance

Elizabeth Yale
May 21, 2006

Matthew 22:15-22
John 15:9-17


Endurance
Endurance. It means a lot. “How many more miles,” wonders the tired, torn, churning racer. “How many days left,” wonders the broken, beaten child sitting on the floor of his jail cell, or even just behind a desk watching his teacher, back and forth, back and forth, knowing that summer is just a few more weeks away. “How much longer, how much longer will this last,” wonders the abused child hiding from her father. “How much longer, Lord, how much longer,” wonders the dirty discouraged preacher, “until a break in the clouds.” “How much longer, Lord, how much longer,” wonders the muddled and angry mother, knowing that her baby is crying and hasn’t ever had enough to eat.

Endurance. We tell ourselves one day at a time, one week, one hour! Yet, inside we still sit and wonder how much more, how much longer must we endure? We look for guidance--all we receive from God and the scriptures is: have patience, endure, wait. Four little words which bring us through all the bad times with the hope of something different, perhaps even better. Unfortunately, this is one of the worst times for a new Christian and certainly no easy pickle for an old one either. The world comes crashing down, you fall into the black abyss of pain, and all God can say, or will say, is: have patience, endure wait.

In our impatience, we cry out, wait for what? We need to fix this, we need help, NOW! What will help us later? Things will be better then! Yet, still God remains solid, a rock: have patience, endure, wait. The problems of this world have us calling out to God, what is going on? Why are you not doing something about this? And again God tells us: have patience, endure. But, there is no waiting involved here. No, a little voice, a faint echo, comes back from the great black abyss. Why aren’t you doing anything about it? For that is what you are called to do. And that is what we are called to do. We are here as God’s children, to take care of all God’s children, and to help God’s children to love.

The multitude of feelings, emotions and moments that come out of this working for others, this caring for others, can itself tear us down and build us up. This work and care can confuse us past belief, and then give us sweet moments of epiphany and understanding. Then, we can call out into the black abyss with words of praise, thanksgiving, and rejoicing. Words like, thank you Lord! I can, we can, with your help do something about this and in the process, look who we find, you, God! Persistently, that little voice, the faint echo from beyond the abyss always has the last say. Softly it comes, “See, God does work in the world, he does so through the people, his Children--you.”

In our praise, thanksgiving, and joy, we remember Paul’s words to the Corinthians, that so sadly, we forget in our suffering and pain, and in the suffering and pain all around us. Though we may be afflicted, perplexed, persecuted and struck down, with God on our side, we will never be crushed, driven to despair, forsaken or destroyed. God has given us this Great news: through everything, we can endure. Unfortunately, there are thousands of people, parents, and children, believing themselves to be crushed and forsaken. But that is why we are here: to celebrate the true life God has given us and to share it with others. Through showing, sharing, telling, we show the world that all people are God’s people and that all children are God’s children.

Every single child deserves the very best. They are, after all, all God’s children. We wouldn’t want to treat God with anything less than our best--because we have found God in everyone around us, from the happy child to the lonely older widow. By working with people and walking the road of life, journeying, enduring with them, God calls us to follow Jesus’ commands: to love everyone as God has loved us, and to give to God the things that are God’s. We are called in prayer and in works to do the best we can. Because, it is only by giving our best to all those around us, and to those we reach out to, that we can ever possibly hope to give our best to God. And if you ever fail, and you will, we all do, I have some reminders: laugh, remember that there have always been hard times and you have made it through before, and know that you are never forsaken or destroyed, that with God, and God is always with you, you can take what tomorrow brings. You can endure.

Diaconal Ordination Sermon

Ordination to the Diaconate of Mary Lou Divis and Donna Jean Kiessling
May 17th, 2006
The Rev. Canon Anne E. Kitch
Cathedral Church of the Nativity, Bethlehem, PA

Jeremiah 1:4-9
2 Corinthians 4:1-6
Luke 22:24-27

Who do You Represent

Who do you represent? Why are you here tonight? And, by the way, what does it mean to represent someone? Represent. To re-present. It comes from the Latin praesentare, “to see.” Thus, to re-present is to see again. To represent something means to stand for or symbolize that thing. It can mean to portray. To represent a person means to serve as a delegate or agent for that person, or to act as a spokesperson. So, who do you represent tonight?

“Now the word of the Lord came to me saying, before I formed you in the womb I knew you and before you were born I consecrated you.” Thus begins the call of Jeremiah, the great prophet. More than a call or vocation, his was almost a compulsion. It was no easy road to walk--being God’s prophet during a time of disaster and exile. Jeremiah was often uneasy in his call, if not downright outraged. From the beginning he wants out.

Please, I am only a kid. I really know nothing about this prophet business. Choose someone else, someone older and wiser.
But for God there are no excuses for not being who you are.

Don’t tell me your just a boy. Don’t you think I know who you are? Don’t you think I know what I am doing? I am God, after all. And you shall go to all to whom I send you and you shall speak whatever I command you. I have put my words into your mouth.

Literally with a touch of the holy hand, God places God’s own words into Jeremiah’s mouth. It could hardly be any clearer. It could hardly be any simpler.

It’s as simple as that, Mary Lou and Donna Jean. It is a simple as that, Bishop Paul. It is as simple as that, people gathered. God consecrates, the prophet delivers.

It would be easy to imagine that these lofty words about being consecrated before you were born apply not only to Jeremiah but to Donna Jean and Mary Lou as well. It would be easy in the context of this grand liturgy to think that these two women are somewhat exalted (or about to be.) Easy to think that since before they were born they were destined for this night, and for another night a few months from now when they will be set aside for priestly ministry. It would be easy--and it would let the rest of us off the hook. Because we could imagine that this service had nothing to do with us, with our ministry.

It would be easy to think that Donna Jean and Mary Lou are special because God knows them in particular, knew them in fact from the very beginning. Knew that they had these gifts for ministry. In fact, gave them these gifts and now we as a church community are recognizing these gifts and calling these two women to use them to the fullest. It would be easy to think this and it would be true--but not the whole truth. Because this night is not just about Mary Lou and Donna Jean.

Is there anyone who God doesn’t know intimately? Any one who lacks gifts? Anyone among us who is not called? Who do you represent? Why are you here?

We are here tonight to represent Christ and his Church. At least that’s what it said on my invitation, didn’t it on yours? That’s what it says in the Book of Common Prayer (p. 855 in the Catechism if you want to look it up.) Under the section titled The Ministry, the first question asked is: Who are the ministers of the Church? The answer: lay persons, bishops, priests and deacons. The next four questions are--what is the ministry of the laity, what is the ministry of a bishop, what is the ministry of a priest, and what is the ministry of a deacon. And the answers? The ministry of lay persons is to represent Christ and his Church, to bear witness to him wherever they may be…(so it begins). The ministry of a bishop is to represent Christ and his Church, particularly as apostle…(and so forth). The ministry of a priest is to represent Christ and his Church, particularly as a pastor to the people…(and it goes on). Guess how the ministry of a Deacon begins?

They all begin the same: to represent Christ and his Church. The particulars of how, are distinct for each office. But the call and context are the same. So whether you are here tonight as a lay person, or as a bishop, or as a priest, or as a deacon, or as someone about to become a deacon, we share this purpose. We are all called. Maybe you thought this service tonight was about Mary Lou and Donna Jean, but it’s not. It’s about you. Who do you represent? It’s as simple as that. God calls, we deliver, work done, case closed. What is true for Jeremiah is true for Donna Jean and Mary Lou and is true for the rest of us. God knows us. God knows the gifts we have. God in fact gave us gifts for a reason and I’m quite sure the reason was not so we could sit on them.

All of us are known. All of us are gifted. All of us are called. Not necessary as prophets or as deacons, but each of us with different gifts appointed to different ministries. The goal of each is the same: to do God’s will. To represent Christ. It’s that simple. So why is it so hard, frightening, and intimidating? Why in our hearts of hearts do we want this liturgy to be all about these two women rather than think about our place in ministry?

Thank God, we are not on our own. “Do not be afraid, for I am with you to deliver you,” God says to Jeremiah. And to the early church hundreds of years after Jeremiah the apostle Paul proclaims, “Since it is by God’s mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart. For we do not proclaim ourselves, we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord.” It is not for ourselves that we are here. It is not for Mary Lou and Donna Jean. It is for Christ, to represent Christ and his church.

If we are to represent Christ, then we must help the people around us, the world around us, to see again--to see Christ again. To represent Christ is to stand for, symbolize our savior. It is to serve as Christ’s agent and spokesperson. This night is not just about Mary Lou and Donna Jean, it is about all of you here…and those not here. Perhaps tonight is especially about those not here and for those who don’t even know that here is here. We, as a community, set aside these two women for the work of deacons so that the world might know Christ. If we are here to celebrate the gifts of Mary Lou and Donna Jean and not demand that they use them, then we fail at the ministry of the church. If we gather because we are hungry and we know we will get fed, but do not then feed those beyond these walls, we are not the ministers of the Church that God calls us to be.

In preparation for tonight, Mary Lou and Donna Jean practiced preparing the altar. In a few moments, they will set the table for the first time as new deacons. They will reverently and gently set the table and prepare it for all of us to feast. They will prepare the space and by doing that they will prepare us as well. And when the feast is ready, they will serve us. But it will not, it cannot stop here. I hope that over the years of their formation, as they continue to learn to identify and use their gifts, as they become more and more the people God knows them to be, they will set many tables. I hope they will prepare many communities to receive the feast. And I hope this about all of you here tonight: that you too will use your gifts to prepare tables and spaces where people may come to know Christ. I pray that you will represent Christ and introduce others to the King and messiah who said, “I am among you as one who serves.”

The ministry of a deacon is “to represent Christ and his church, particularly as a servant of those in need.” Mary Lou and Donna Jean, I expect you to serve others with love and competence, daring and persistence, holy humor (and sometimes chocolate.)

The duty of all Christians is “to follow Christ, to come together week by week for corporate worship, to work, pray and give for the spread of the kingdom of God.” (BCP p. 856) Know yourself as God knows you. Discover and revel in the gifts God gave you. Represent Christ with all that you are and all that you have.
Amen.

The Fourth Sunday of Easter: Lambs or Lions?

The Ven. Richard I Cluett
May 7, 2006
Acts 4:4:4-14; 1John 3:16-24; John 10:11-18


I know that the images of sheep and shepherd appear frequently in scripture - in-cluding today’s lessons on “Shepherding Sunday” - But it occurs to me that 21st century Americans don't really identify with sheep. Our images have to do with different animals. As an example, our cars are identified as mustangs and jaguars. Its a little hard to imagine an “eight cylinder Sheep”!

The names we give to our school mascots and sport teams don’t have to do with sheep. Can you imagine the “Liberty Lambs” or the “Freedom Fawns”? Instead, mascots are lions, tigers, bears. I did part of my seminary training at Yale, and the Yale mascot is the “bull dog”. After the occasional touchdown by the Yale football team, the stands erupt into a rendition of “Bull dog, bull dog, bow wow wow, Eli Yale!” Its a little hard to imagine the singing of “sheep, sheep, baa, baa, baa, Eli Yale!”

In our day we seem to want images of strength, speed, aggressiveness, quick-ness, alertness, domination. We like to see ourselves as dynamic, in control self-sufficient. Not sheep-like!

Well, are we strong enough, quick enough, alert enough, shrewd enough, to deal with whatever life holds for us? Do we have the “Right Stuff”; do we have what it takes...?”

How does that image relate to the person we really, deep down, know ourselves to be? Are we really wild cats, bears, lions, or tigers when we reflect on who we are or what we are?

There is another Yale song, usually sung towards the end of the evening. Its called the “Whiffenpoof Song”. Whiffenpoof?! The theme song of battling bulldogs? “We are poor little lambs who have lost our way. We are little black sheep who have gone astray... God have mercy on such as we...Baa, baa, baa.”

Maudlin, to be sure, but the lamb image does have an insight into the frailties of our human nature.

The image of the Good shepherd raises serious questions about power. In some ways we feel not as super-persons, but rather as pawns in a power game (at work, at school, as a citizen, perhaps in life, itself) who could use a caretaker.

Are we more like lambs that have gone astray than like lions that exercise domin-ion, or bulldogs that have the world by the tail? Can we hear, know, understand what it means when Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd.”

In one of the optional lessons for today, Ezekiel prophecies in the name of God, “I am the good shepherd.” Then he describes others who claim to be shepherds. “The weak you have not strengthened, the sick you have not healed, the crippled you have not bound up, the strayed you have not brought back, the lost you have not sought; and with force and harshness have you ruled them.”

He goes on to say that the shepherding of God will be “as a shepherd seeks out his flock when some of his sheep have been scattered abroad, so will I seek out my sheep and I will rescue them from all places where they have been scat¬tered...” Jesus says that there will be “one flock and one shep¬herd.”

God has brought you and me from our lost-ness and scattered-ness into the Church, into the community of faith, into his flock, into the fold, into his king-dom, into his life. We are not meant to be alone, isolated, from God or from one another. We are part of a community that gives us our identity, nurtures us, strengthens us, comforts us, challenges us, and encourages us.

It is the shepherd who draws us into this flock, who finds us when we are lost, heals us when we are wounded, restores us when we have separated ourselves from the flock. The shepherd is Jesus.

If the image of the shepherd points to the nature of God, points to the way of Jesus, it also points to us. Perhaps true power and true humility are found in the same person. Both were found in Jesus. Both were given to his continuing pres-ence, the Church. Those of us who follow him are also called to a life of true hu-mility and true power.

When Jesus says that he is the Good Shepherd, he is telling us how we are to be. We are to be involved with dirty hands and sweat. We are to confront the false shep¬herds who scatter or lead the sheep astray. We are to search out those who are lost; those who have no hope; those who have wandered away from safety. We are to share with the hungry and bring them to water. We are to see that there is shelter from the storms. We are even to offer our lives for their sake.

“O God, grant that when we hear His voice we may know Him who calls us each by name, and may follow where he leads.” Amen.

Sermon preached on the occasion of The Annual Eucharist for the Altar Guild

The Ven. Richard I. Cluett
May 6, 2006
1Kings 7:48-8:5 Psalm 84 Luke 2:41-51


The mystery surrounding the Holy unfolds to those who serve on the Altar Guild.

In the narthex of Christ Church in Corning, NY, which is a dark shadowy place, there are some small stained glass windows. One window, if my memory serves me, contains a vase of flowers and some altar linens. As you might imagine the window was given to honor the work of the Altar Guild; given by a woman who had served on an altar guild for 65 of her 75 years.

Personally for her it symbolized a 65 year vo¬cation – and the ministry of all members of the altar guild, who carry out the tasks of setting the table, doing the dishes, and ar¬ranging the flowers, mak¬ing the sanctuary beautiful for God and for the people of God. A woman of considerable wealth, who in her own home, paid others to set the table, do the dishes, and ar¬range the flowers. But for the ministry of the altar, for the sacra¬mental ministry of the community of Jesus, no task was too menial, no job too humble. For 65 years she polished, prepared and put away Holy Things.

And God honors the work and the hands of all who do so – and so do I. The congregation will never know the details of the work you do, nor will they know the gift you make in your offering, or the blessing you receive. But I know. All priests know. We are partners in this ministry of the sacristy and sanctuary.

The spirituality of the sanctuary and the sacristy is where the Altar Guild assists with the heart and soul of worship. Altar Guild service is a privileged discipline, a service of love, and an offering of time. An integral part of the guild is to make sure the linens are cleansed, the vessels are polished and in place, the sacramental bread available, the wine ready, and the vestments laid out.

The beauty of holy things isn’t always as easily discernible to those removed from the intimacy involved in the ministry of the sacristy and the sanctuary. The intimacy of the sacristy can be compared, rightly I think, to the intimacy of bathing a child or another beloved. Holy things have been touched by the sacred, and those whose lives are drawn to the sacred will find them beautiful, even in their mundane usefulness.

Holy things remind us of the living God; for they have his mark, his touch, and are not just items of beauty or usefulness, empty of meaning. Rather, they bring into the dailyness of our lives, the presence of the Living God. You are privileged and blessed in preparing the Holy Things of God for the people of God.

The mystery surrounding the Holy unfolds to those who serve on the Altar Guild.

The Third Sunday of Easter: What kind of Savior are you Looking For?

St. Timothy’s, Creve Coeur, Missouri
April 30, 2006
Luke 24:36-48

What kind of a savior are you looking for? As for me, I want someone steady: a rock. Now I think a kind, comfy rock would be nice. One you can lean into and find comfort. One that will put loving arms around you and brush your hair back and tell you that it will be all right. But a rock nonetheless. I want someone strong, dependable and always available. I want someone I can count on whenever I fall apart, or get scared, or overwhelmed. This someone I’m thinking of never falls apart or gets scared or overwhelmed. After all, what good is a vulnerable savior? How can my savior take care of me if that rock is not steady 24/7?

What about you? What kind of a savior are you looking for? Someone who will fight for you or lead you to victory or heal your wounds? Are you looking for a knight in white armor, or a western frontier hero or an inspired political leader? Perhaps it is a miracle worker, or a beacon for global reconciliation or a prophet that makes your savior short-list. Or all of the above? Or someone who will die for you? Now wait a minute--what good is a dead savior? No, give me the one who fights all the demons and wins. Give me the one who is triumphant. I want the one who never falters.

What kind of a savior do you suppose the disciples were looking for? Clearly there were a variety of views among them. Some were looking for a great leader. Some hoped for the return of King David. Some expected a prophet, others a healer. I expect some of their visions are similar to ours: a rock, a warrior, a miracle worker. But even those who believed in their heart of hearts that Jesus was it--the messiah--the one who would save them all--they never got it. Peter, the one who first calls Jesus Messiah when Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?” is also the one who rebukes Jesus when our Lord talked about dying. “Get behind me Satan!” Jesus has to say to him. But Peter doesn’t understand. A dead savior? No thank you.

But that’s exactly what they got: a savior, a messiah, who was vulnerable. A savior who was overwhelmed and overcome and broken. A savior who didn’t just die, or offer up his life in some heroic action leading the charge against the enemy or taking the bullet to spare us. This savior, this Jesus was captured and beaten and killed. Dead—desecrated-- and buried. And that was the end of it. Or so they thought. Then comes Easter.

It is still Easter by the way. We celebrate if for 50 days. The great 50 days we call it. And it is still that first Easter day when this story from our gospel takes place. Recall how Luke tells the story. In the early dawn on the first day of the week the women find the empty tomb. They meet two men-in-white who tell them that Jesus has risen. They run and tell the others who do not believe them. Now that same day two of the disciples were going to the village of Emmaus talking about all this. Along the way they meet a stranger who asks them what they are discussing. They reach their destination early evening, invite the stranger to eat with them, and as he breaks the bread he is suddenly revealed to them as Jesus. And then in the next moment, he simply vanishes.

Astonished by what they have seen, they run the seven miles back to Jerusalem (OK maybe they walked fast). They find the others who say, “Have you heard? The Lord has risen indeed!” And they say, “Have we got a story for you…we’ve seen him!” As they are talking, suddenly he is there. Just there. While they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” They were startled and terrified. (Luke 24:36)

Now I have to tell you--if we don’t want a savior who suffers and dies, and they didn’t understand a savior who suffered and died, how do you suppose they felt about a resurrected one? I think startled and terrified don’t quite make it! Honestly, a ghost might have been easier to take than a live, just-got-back-from-being-dead, honest-to-God resurrected messiah. It is sometimes hard to place ourselves in the shoes of those first disciples. We have so many images of Jesus, but all of them carry the stamp of the resurrected one. We know that part of the story already. But those first disciples did not. Those who believed Jesus was the messiah before the crucifixion, thought what they saw was what they got. They expected great things of their teacher, mentor, and friend. But the real encounter with the real resurrected one could not have been what they thought it would be. I am sure some of them spent the rest of their lives trying to get their minds around it.

And this is why we take 50 days for Easter. It is not just because Pentecost comes on the calendar 50 days from now. It is because the resurrection is shocking and startling and terrifying. No matter how many years we have lived this story, we still need time to understand it. It is a great mystery.

Jesus is our savoir. But what kind of a savior do we want? Or perhaps the more important question is, what kind of a savior do we need? Apparently one who is vulnerable. Apparently one who can be beaten down. Apparently one who dies. Because that is what we have in Jesus. And this is why. Because without a dead savior, we do not get a resurrected one. A Jesus who got off the cross and triumphantly put his foes to flight would have been victorious over the Roman officials and the Religious hierarchy of 1st century Palestine. A Jesus who stood up to the authorities of his day and became a new leader who reformed the religious institutions, brought food to the poor, justice to the downtrodden and healing to the sick would have created a better society around the city of Jerusalem. Things would have gone on well for a time. But then what?

But a Jesus who suffered and died and was buried and stayed dead and after three days was resurrected, that Jesus, that messiah, that Christ conquered more. That savior says there is nothing in this world, no evil, no hate, no horrifying death, that God’s love cannot overcome. God’s love conquers hate. God’s love overcomes sin. God’s love ensures that not even death has the last word. A savior like that ensures that there is no dark place that I can be that God has not also been. There is no depth to which I can fall, that God will not be there with me. There is no place of devastation that I can be in that is not redeemable by God. Now that is a savior worth living for.

When Jesus stands there and asks if there is anything to eat in the house, he is showing them that he is no ghost, no joke, no phantom of wishful thinking. He is nothing less than the one who not even death could stop. He is nothing less than the one who comes again to those he loves and offers peace. And even that is not then end of the story; or of our story. “You are witnesses of these things,” Jesus tells those gathered around him that Easter day evening. Repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in the name of the messiah and you are witnesses to these things. In Luke’s account this is the final appearance of Jesus. He has no other message or words of wisdom for his disciples. “You are witnesses of these things.”

And what do you suppose those witnesses were meant to do? Well, we know what they did because we are here. They told the story. They told the story about a vulnerable savior who laid down his life for them, and for us. They told the story of a savior whose love for humankind overcame hate and death. They proclaimed that repentance and forgiveness are available for all of us. They healed the sick, cared for the poor, created communities founded on the Good News of this resurrected Christ.

In our Baptismal Covenant we are asked, “Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?” We also are witnesses to Easter. We also are called to tell the story. We are called to live lives in the assurance, the blessed assurance, that this incredible love is for us. What kind of savior do you want? What kind savior do you need? What kind of savior do you have? What kind of savior will you witness to?

In God’s Holy Name,
Amen

The Third Sunday of Easter: A story about two birdcages

The Rev. Canon Joel Atkinson
April 30, 2006

I’d like to tell you a story about two birdcages.
The stories say lots concerning the meaning of Easter.

I’m going over there to pick up the first cage.
Do you see it?
It’s a cage like “Tweety Bird” took refuge in
from that mean old cat “Sylvester”
in those wondrous colored cartoons of our youth.
Here I’m picking it up.
Take a look with me.
Those adults present who can’t see the cage
please hold your cynicism in abeyance
and listen to me
while I examine this most special cage.
Listen and I’ll tell you what I see.
It appears to be a brand spanking new birdcage.
The bars are spaced so that even the tiniest of birds
could never escape from this cage.
Now there is something very peculiar about what I see.
What use is a birdcage without a door?
Did you notice there wasn’t a door?
I couldn’t put a bird in there even if I wanted to!
As I’ve been examining this cage
there is something even more peculiar.
Look at the bottom of the cage.
Do you see it?
There’s an eggshell
of a recently hatched bird.
Where’s the bird?
There’s no door to the cage!
There’s no way through the very narrowly spaced bars!
Yet, at the bottom of the cage are the remnants of an eggshell.
Here, I’ll hold the cage so you can see where that bird might have hidden.
Do you see the bird?
Neither do I! The bird isn’t in the cage.
I would like to meet a bird that can hatch from the confinement of its shell
into an escape-proof cage
and then just simply disappear from sight.
Where did it go?
Again I must say,
I would like to meet a bird like that.

That bird sounds remarkably like
that escape Jesus made
and we celebrated on Easter Eve.

The birdcage I described
was like one painted by Rene Magritte
a Belgian surrealist painter.

In this and in other works of his
this postal worker who painted in the dining room of his house
painted images that guide our minds to see realities
that transcend
the obviousness of the concreteness of the world, which surrounds.
In his painting of the empty birdcage
we are lead to see both the impossibility
and the reality of the empty tomb.

Let’s see, I think I’ll place this cage over here.
Right there is a good spot.

There’s another cage – do you see it?
It’s not nearly as nice as the first.
It’s all rusty and bent in places.
The bars aren’t evenly spaced and as close together as in first.
Why look, it’s even got a door.

Bear with me for a moment and I’ll walk over and pick it up.
I’ve got it! I’ll hold it so you can see it.
This ugly old cage looks like it’s ready for nothing but the trash bin.
Looking at it closely I’m reminded of a story.

On an Easter Sunday morning
a pastor at a church in New England
was walking to begin Sunday services.
On the way he saw a young boy coming toward him
with a cage exactly like this one.
As he drew closer
he noticed several birds thrashing in fear
as they sought escape from the confines of the cage.
Taking time out from his walk
he stopped the boy
and asked him what he intended to do with the birds.
“Mister,” the boy replied
“I am going to play with them.
I am going to make them angry and fight with one another.
I am going to pull out their feathers and hurt them.”
“That’s terrible,” the pastor thought.
The he said to the boy “Then what are you going to do?”
Answering his own question
he said to the boy
“You’re going to let them go aren’t you?”
“No!” he said enthusiastically
“there’re lots of hungry cats in the neighborhood
soooo I’m going to feed them to the cats!”
At this last statement the pastor slid his hand into the vest pocket of his jacket
and said “Son, what do you think those three birds are worth?”
“Well mister” he replied, naming a gargantuan sum for one so young.
“They’re worth ten dollars!”
The pastor pulled out his wallet took out a ten dollar bill
and quietly the exchange took place.
Each seemed satisfied with the deal they’d made
though as the boy walked away he waved his ten dollar bill
gloating at the stupidity of the adult he’d pulled a shame upon.
Looking back the boy shouted, as if to rub it in,
“Mister they’re only common field birds with no color at all.
Why they can’t even sing a pretty song!”
The pastor with his prize
walked quietly to a grassy place
by the side of a large tree
that would be hospitable to the three tiny birds.
Then he kneeled, opened the door of the rusty old birdcage,
and gently urged them fly away into the freedom…the life
he’d purchased for them.
On that Easter Sunday he preached one of his best sermons.

The two cages both speak to me of the meaning of Easter.
I am going to place them side-by-side
and I will try not to forget their story.
The challenge becomes for me…for us…
how do we make the story conveyed by the two cages real in our lives?

For me their reality comes
in seeking in my life
to live into the challenge
contained in the words of two extraordinary human beings.
Listen to the words the first extraordinary human being, Archbishop Desmond Tutu,
spoke in addressing the church:

“The compassion of Jesus was not just a passing feeling that made him feel pity
but left him wringing his hands.
No, compassion moved him to do something to change the situation…
People are of infinite worth
because Jesus Christ died for them,
and they must be treated
not just with respect but with reverence.
To treat fellow human beings as less than this
is to spit in the face of God.”
He continued:
“A compassionate church will discern the features of its Lord and Master
in the drug addict, the homeless person, the AIDS patient, the (single) parent,
the hungry, the widow and the orphan, the unemployed, the political prisoner,
the homeless, the oppressed.
The compassionate church will,
like its Lord and Master,
tie a towel around its waist to wash the disciples’
feet, because in serving these it is serving him.”

Our loving compassionate God, as illustrated
in the stories of the two birdcages,
comes to free us
from that which binds us to whatever circumstance
that prevents from being all God has created us to be
whether self imposed,
imposed by others,
or by the circumstances of the life into which we have been born
including the mortality shared by all.

Our loving compassionate God,
as illustrated in the stories of the two birdcages,
comes to call us into becoming God’s compassionate people
in God’s compassionate church.
When we leave the Cathedral this day these stories
will become more deeply writ into our hearts
if each day we’ll make just a little more effort to being God’s compassionate people
toward those closest around us,
to the strangers we meet,
and even to the self that each of us are.
As we seek to love and to free as God does,
we’ll feel the embrace of God’s eternal arms holding us ever closer.

In the words of that second extraordinary person, St. Teresa of Avila,
“Christ has no body now earth but yours,
no hands but yours,
no feet but yours.
Yours are the feet with which he is to go about doing good.
And yours are the hands with which he is to bless us now.”

Your hands and your feet belong to Christ – use them in his name.

Amen.

The Second Sunday of Easter: The Faithful Church

The Rev. Demery Bader-Saye
Missioner for Youth, the Diocese of Bethlehem
April 23, 2006
Acts 4:32-35; Psalm 133; 1 John 1:1-2:2; John 20:19-31

Alleluia! The Lord is Risen! The Lord is risen indeed - Alleluia! Happy Easter, my sisters and brothers in Christ! What a joy it is to be with you today. I bring you greetings from your bishop and the whole diocesan staff.

It is Easter from now until Pentecost Sunday. We are in the midst of an Easter celebration, reveling in the news that our Lord is risen, healed and whole, gentle and victorious, humble and glorious. As it is written in the Song of Solomon, “for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.”

The prophecy of Gandalf from J.R.R. Tolkein’s allegory to the Christian faith, The Fellowship of the Ring has been fulfilled in the rising of Jesus from the tomb:

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire [has been] woken,
A light from the shadows [does] spring;
Renewed [is the] blade that was broken,
The crownless again [is the] king!

And in the proclamation of our story of our faith, we hear that the word of the resurrection is moving full throttle through Jerusalem. The band of brothers, the followers of Christ in the fellowship of the cross are – depsite threats and opposition from their enemy -- preaching the radically good news of Jesus Christ with power and zeal throughout the region of Jerusalem. They are sheperding a congregation of hundreds, even thousands of believers which is in and of itself, a miracle – and the whole body of believers, Luke writes in this fourth chapter of Acts, are of “one heart and soul.” In the power of the Holy Spirit, everything is coming together for this new community in Christ. No one in the congregation of the early church is bent out of shape (yet), or complaining, or vying for power. Everyone is pulling his or her weight. No one is hungry or thirsty or homeless, for they hold everything in common – they share all of their possessions and from that collective wealth, not one financial need goes unfulfilled. They are living out the covenant that they made on the miraculous day of their baptism, the ancient covenant that Christians to this very day make each and every time we baptize someone new into the life of Christ – a covenant to care for one another tenderly as family and to work as partners with God to bring about the kingdom of God on the earth God loves with such passion. The Acts community of believers here understand that in the fellowship of Christ everyone bears with joy, with willingness, the responsibility to care for the needs, to share the hopes, to encourage the dreams of everyone else and the responsibility to reach out to those in need.

Sometimes life in Christ is like that. Miracles happen left and right. People are fed. Faith flourishes. Enemies are kept at bay. Sometimes it all comes together. And sometimes it doesn’t, even if all the ingredients seem to be there.

Take for instance, the bean and lentil soup fiasco that happened to me and some friends of mine just a few weeks ago. We’re in an emerging church community called Peacemeal (www.peacemealcommunity.blogspot.com) which meets on Friday nights in my living room in Clarks Summit. Feeling pretty fired up during lent, we decided that we wanted to perform an act of love - to follow Jesus in the way of the cross. We were going to feed the homeless and working poor of Scranton. We called a local soup kitchen, which serves a lunch meal every day at noon for some advice. They estimated that they serve as many as 225 hungry people each day in Scranton. So we shopped, and we chopped and we made -- just to be safe – 300 servings of bean and lentil soup. And we bought 250 apples and 5 big sheets of brownies and vanilla pound cake. All week long it felt like Christmas! What kind of gifts would the day bring? Who would see the love of Christ in our eyes? In whose weary eyes would we see the love of Christ? The dinner was to start at 5:00. We’d imagined that it would take us a full hour and a half to move everyone through the line. But by 5:30 we had served everyone who was to eat that night. Did you ever notice the McDonald’s sign down the road – what is it now, over 200 billion served or something like that? Well, if Peacemeal were to have a sign it would be a little more humbling. It would read “over 20 served.”

Sometimes even when people try to live with the same power and zeal as the early church, it just doesn’t come together. A friend of ours from North Carolina tells of a time in his life when he, his wife and a group of enthusiastic believers decided to purchase a big house and live together there in community, praying together, eating together, holding all things in common. It went gloriously well for a time, but in the end, inevitably, tensions mounted and the community disintegrated over something so small as how many ounces of orange juice each person was allowed to drink each morning, or whose turn it was to take out the garbage. Living the life of the fellowship of Christ is not easy.

Even the disciples and all of those new believers did not live out the perfection of the few verses we read today for very long... In the verses that immediately follow Ananias and his wife Saphira decide to hold just a little money back for themselves. They lie to the disciples and fall over dead when confronted with their deception. There were arguments between and among the disciples about how to spread the message, about who needed to hear the story of Christ. The horrible persecution of those who followed Jesus grew heavier. More and more often the hand of the “predator” reached into the community and plucked up a believer, who was stoned or crucified and eventually even thrown to the lions. The persecution became so strong that the believers couldn’t live together or even be seen together because it was too dangerous. Many fell away and be came apostates, denying that they believed in the risen Christ. It was just too risky.

But a faithful remnant remained who wouldn’t give up. And because of them we sit here today. Because of them the radically good news of the risen Christ has reached into most every corner of the earth. And there are, in a good many places, at least outposts of peace and generosity and love which serve as places of renewal for the followers of Christ who continue to try. Who try to go out into the world to do the work God has given them to do, to love and serve God with gladness and singleness of heart. In another word of encouragement from Tolkein’s Fellowship of the Ring, we read:
The road must be trod, but it will be very hard. And neither strength nor wisdom will carry us far upon it. This quest may be attempted by the weak with as much hope as the strong. Yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere.

The wheels of the world are turning. The kingdom of God is here - it is coming. Miraculous Acts 4 kind of moments don’t always come together. But we keep on sharing with those in need. We are faithful just one more day, to whomever our community may be – to our spouse, to our family, to our friends, to our church, and we try not to argue over orange juice. And then a day turns into a year, which turns into a week, which turns into a month, which turns into a lifetime of faithfulness. We continue to live out that baptismal covenant asking our parish where we are needed -- how we can live out the promise we make at each one’s baptism to encourage that one’s growth in faith. We keep on feeding hungry people until 20 turns to 200 and 200 turns to 2 million and 2 million turns into 200 billion, until 200 turns into “Everyone has been served!” And over time like a pebble covered with snow rolling down a big hill, momentum increases, power multiplies, people gather, the Holy Spirit stirs up hearts and minds and you find yourself in the midst of a revolution, part of the misseo dei - the mission of God – the magnificent kingdom of God which even now burgeons not only “up there” in heaven, or in some dimension just beyond the veil of our understanding -- but here and now in this big broken, hurting world that God loves so much – sometimes it all comes together!

Until the day when it all comes together for good, we enjoy those delightful “Acts community moments” when we get a glimpse of that powerful kingdom – like the moments that happen sometimes at youth events. As someone who works with youth a lot, I am blessed to see many such moments, like when the teen rector of Happening kneels down to wash the feet of his or her friends. Like the joy that I hope will come next week at Christophany as youth discover more about the risen Jesus.

Not long ago on a mission trip with my youth group from Church of Epiphany we had an extended Acts community moment – for ten days in Central America we held all things in common, we served the poor, and we worshiped and ate together and sang together and played together. It happens for the Cathedral, too. Last summer Elizabeth Yale, one of your youth parishioners sat beside me on the way to the Episcopal Youth Event, and she told me about her J2A pilgrimage, the wondrous trip her class took to Northern California - of trips through the Redwood Forest, innovative worship experiences, long conversations and funny incidents on the road. It all comes together sometimes.

I commend you for all that you do as a congregation on the journey to the kingdom - for your generosity to those in need, for the programs you cultivate for children, youth and adults, for the beauty and power of your worship! Let us all continue forward in that way, and all the more – in the way of the cross, seeking daily to live out the covenant of our baptism – to live in the love, reconciliation, and fellowship of the cross. Thanks be to God! Amen.

The Great Vigil of Easter: Where do we go from here?

The Rev. Canon Anne E. Kitch
April 15, 2006
Mark 16:1-8

Where do we go from here? Just what do you suppose we should do next? We’ve had new fire, the beautifully chanted exultet, great story telling, a baptism, it’s Easter…and the Eucharist is coming up. What more could you want out of one service? Out of one community? Out of life?

Where do we go from here? This might be what Jack’s parents are thinking about now. It took a big effort to get here: to this Church, to this moment, to this baptism. But, as they well know, Baptism is not the end. It is not simply a matter of getting the baby done. Greg and Cheryl are well aware that this is only the beginning. After all, they have just promised to help their son grow into the full stature of Christ. They have some work to do. And by the way, so do we. We all promised to help. I hate to break it to all of you gathered here, but none of us is finished yet…not with Jack’s baptism, and not with ours either.

Baptism is an important event in and of itself. After all, we have been so bold as to call down the Holy Spirit to enter into this newest Christian. Yet it is not the baptismal rite itself but where it leads that is ultimately the point. Baptism is a threshold experience. We do not remain at the font. Jack is already older than he was when we poured water over his head. He is older than he was when we welcomed him into the household of God. He is older than he was when I stared this sermon. He has crossed the threshold of baptism and moved on into his life in Christ. Tonight, we are all moving with him. Did you feel it? Did you get wet? Tonight we too are carried along in the baptismal waters. This baptism recalls a knowledge of Gods’ presence in each of us.

So, where do we go from here? We ask the question because the answer is not always clear. Sometimes we ask the question with confidence, with a certain daring and a sense of completion. How could it get any better than this? But there are times when this question marks confusion, a sense of uncertainty or even despair. Often we don’t know what to do next, either because we are so full, so satiated and so at the top of our game that there seems no place left to go, or because our path seems so dark and we feel so lost that we don’t know if there is any way open to us at all. At those times we feel we have reached a dead end, exhausted all options.

Where do we go from here? This must have been what the women felt when they encountered the empty tomb. Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome had been with Jesus for months, even years. These disciples who had traveled with him, shared meals with him and learned from him. These faithful women stood with him even at the foot of the cross. And after that horrible day, they lived through the next empty one.

I think it was the day after the crucifixion, the long Sabbath day after Jesus was laid in the tomb, when they hit the wall. I think it was on the day after, when these women arrived at a dead end. Do you know what the day after feels like? The day after disaster? Your adrenaline has run out and reality sets in. I think they were lost and thought they couldn’t get any more lost. And then…and then… on the next day…the third day, when the sun had just risen, they encountered the empty tomb.

What would it really be like to visit the graveside of your friend, perhaps with flowers in hand, and find an open and empty grave? Despite everything they had ever heard about Jesus and the messiah, they could not have expected this. No wonder they were alarmed! Instead of a body, they find a man in white, just sitting there. And then the man (an angel, perhaps ?) speaks, “Don’t be alarmed!” As if saying that ever helps ! Honestly, it would be a bit like someone telling first time parents not to be alarmed when their newborn suddenly spikes a fever for the first time. It’s not as if these women have encountered a resurrected savior before! Nor do they encounter one now. Jesus is not there.

“You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified,” says the man in white. “He has been raised; he is not here. He’s gone on ahead. You’ll catch up with him in Galilee. Just go and get Peter and the rest and meet him there.” Oh. He’s gone ahead to Galilee. Well that makes complete sense! Thank you very much sir, we’ll just be on our way now…..No. What happened next was those women got the heck out of there. As soon as their frozen hearts and legs would let them, they fled. They fled from the tomb seized with terror and amazement. And apparently they forgot their errand because in this gospel telling, “they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”

That is how Mark’s gospel account ends: and they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid. Now if you go home and look un the gospel of Mark in your bible, you may find an added ending. Because the people that read Mark’s gospel couldn’t leave it there. Later writers added a whole bit about Mary Magdalene meeting the resurrected Jesus. Clearly that did happen. We have other accounts of it in the gospels of Luke, Matthew and John. Clearly the women did tell someone eventually, or else none of us would be here for such a very long church service tonight. But Mark’s gospel account ends in fear and silence. Perhaps that is a realistic response. What would it really be like to find yourself face to face with a fulfilled prophecy? How would you react if you encountered a resurrected Messiah when you went to visit the cemetery? If we fear death (and I think in our heart of hearts we all do), then I believe we fear resurrection more. I think if face to face with the reality of a risen messiah, we would be terrified.

Where do we go from here? Here we are, more than three quarters of the way into this Easter Vigil. We’ve had a new fire, some great stories, a baptism, an empty tomb….and terror and silence. Where do we go from here? Literally, tonight we go to the table. We make Eucharist. We will share an Easter feast and we will remember that Jesus lived and died and rose again. We will remember that because the tomb is empty, our lives are not. We will remember that what opens for those women with the empty tomb, is the possibility that all that Jesus said is true. He is the messiah. He is imbued with Godhead. He is the one who will save, has saved us all. And if that is true, then so is something else. All that Jesus said about us, and all that he calls us to be, is very real. As we make Eucharist tonight, we will remember that like those dry bones in the valley God can breathe life into us. God does breathe life into us. We are to live and to live to the fullest. We are to live into the full stature of Christ.

We will break bread and share in the one cup and be filled with the Holy Spirit. We will rejoice and be sent out into the world to share in this good news; all of us--even baby Jack (who is even older now). We will be sent out. Sometimes that will terrify us. Nevertheless, the story will be told and Christ’s redeeming love will continue to call others to the baptismal waters and the Eucharistic feast and we will go on. So--where will you go from here?