Click image below to listen to the sermon
The Rev. Canon Scott Slater
Canon to the Ordinary, Episcopal Diocese of Maryland
May 22, 2016
Monday, May 23, 2016
Sunday, May 15, 2016
The Acts of Good Shepherd Apostles
Readings for the Feast of Pentecost
Friday and Saturday of this weekend, Ed MacVaugh, Mary Snead and I joined about 150 other people at Turf Valley in Ellicott City for our annual diocesan Convention. And the preacher for the opening Eucharist was Bishop Chilton Knudsen – our assistant bishop since September. And our opening lesson was this well-known passage from Acts describing what happened on Penetecost.
She told a story of her high school youth group of St. Anne’s in Annapolis making a field trip to a synagogue in Washington DC. And she shared, and this was important for us to know, that as a teenager she suffered from a severe condition that almost all of us go through – and some of us never overcome – called – the “Know it All” syndrome. You know – that belief that there is nothing new under the sun. Period.
So on this trip as their group gathered to learn about the Hebrew faith and worship –the rabbi invited them to come back and join them in their celebration of Pentecost. At this Bishop Chilton eagerly raised her hand (in that way, I sadly know all too well) and said – You celebrate Pentecost? That’s so great – that must be like when we do a Seder. How cool that you take a Christian feast and replicate it in your synagogue – like we do at Passover.
On the convention floor – that sparked one of those collective – oooooh. Because we all knew what she would say next – smiling, the rabbi graciously explained that Pentecost is a Jewish Feast. Fifty days after Passover the faithful made their way to Jerusalem to celebrate the feast of Shavuot or Weeks, giving thanks for the harvest.
And Bishop Chilton did learn something new that day – one - that she didn’t know everything there was to know – and two – that before it was as Pentecost – it was Shavuot. Just as before we said Peace – Jesus said – Shalom.
Gathered in that upper room – a few weeks after Jesus told them – do not be afraid when I’m gone – those disciples were terrified. When we call Pentecost – the birthday of the church – I think we trivialize what took place. Birthdays tend to be joyful occasions – a big party. In that upper room it was anything but. To be clear those disciples – were hiding out.
And it’s not like there was this ecstatic sweeping through of the Holy Spirit – and then all of a sudden the church – as we know it – was born. Those disciples experienced what Jesus meant when he said – my peace I give you, but I don’t give you peace as the world gives. It’s peace of another kind entirely – it’s the peace of Shalom – of restoration – of wholeness – and it always includes people being stirred up – and some people sneering, judging the validity, the value of God at work.
It’s the courageous peace that surpasses understanding – that moves people past fear to participate in the restoration – the Shalom – of the world.
That’s what is most interesting to me about Pentecost. Something happened. I don’t know if it happened exactly the way the author of Acts describes it – but if you look at the disciples before Pentecost – and after Pentecost – they are transformed.
Philip stands with Jesus before Pentecost as says – ok, we’ll believe if you show us God. Peter stands with Jesus before Pentecost and says – I can’t do what you ask me to do – I can’t heal – I can’t trust – I can’t even tell someone I know you because I’m so terrified of being found guilty by association. Thomas says before Pentecost – how can we follow you Jesus when we do not know the way?
And Jesus, consistently, responds to all their insecurities and demands by saying – you do have faith – you can follow me – do not be afraid. And then he dies – appears to them, eats with them after the resurrection – and guess what, they are still afraid.
Until this happens. That experience completely changes Peter! Gone is the denying disciple – and in his place is a person unafraid to stand up in front of those who are sneering at him. Risking more than just ridicule – Peter is risking the same fate as Jesus – in claiming that God indeed has now reversed the curse of Babel – and fulfilled the promise to all God’s people – having poured out the Spirit upon all flesh.
After Pentecost – Peter and those disciples - don’t set out to build a church – they simply set out to do what they saw Jesus doing all along. For the Book of Acts – as we’ve been studying in a weekly bible study – is simply a book of the disciples imitating Jesus.
Meeting people who are different – meeting people who disagree. Listening to their story – and then sharing their own. Sitting down to eat with people – accepting hospitality from strangers. And again and again choosing to cultivate relationships of mutual transformation.
Out of that are born households of God – where people come together to pray that the Spirit will continue to be present and empower them to do the work God has given them to do.
Today is our Annual Meeting – when we come together to hear about the work God has given us to do. The work we have done – and the work that is ongoing. We work to create this household of God – to raise money – to craft a budget – to put on worship – to design programs – to care for our building and our grounds.
We work to go into the world and bring in Shalom. Through relationships with other faith communities like St. Luke’s, Carey Street or resource centers like Paul’s Place. Through Habitat for Humanity in Sandtown and Govins. Through Neighbor-to-Neighbor and ACTC in our county. Through micro-lending and macro-dreaming – we work to overcome fear and anxiety – of people and places.
It is holy work – and it is hard work. And the hardest part of all of it – what we do here – and what we do out there – is being in relationship. Mutually transforming relationships. Where we speak from the heart – and listen from the heart – open to the truth that the Spirit of God really has been poured out among all people.
Recently I listened to an story told by Rachel Naomi Remen. She doctor who promotes integrative medicine and a best-selling author. In her book, My Grandfather’s Blessing she shares a story from the Jewish tradition that explains one of the highest Jewish moral commandments – known as tikkun olam which translates – “the repairing of the world.” For this is God’s intention for all God’s people.
"In the beginning, there was only the holy darkness…the source of life. And then, in the course of history, at a moment in time, this world, the world of a thousand, thousand things, emerged from the heart of the holy darkness as a great ray of light. And then…there was an accident, and the vessels containing the light of the world, the wholeness of the world, broke.
And the wholeness of the world, the light of the world was scattered into a thousand, thousand fragments of light, and they fell into all events and all people, where they remain deeply hidden until this very day.
According to her grandfather, the whole human race is a response to this accident. We are here because we are born with the capacity to find the hidden light in all events and all people, to lift it up and make it visible once again and thereby to restore the innate wholeness of the world."
Our annual report is quite literally the Acts of this group of Apostles. Apostles means – ones who are sent. And our report shares the ways we have been sent to restore the innate wholeness of the world. However – I have a feeling our reports maybe aren’t quite as – dare I say – honest – as the stories in the book of Acts. We don’t include the conflicts in committees, because of course they happen – we don’t include our fear of going into the city, because it is a place very different from where we live. We don’t include the way we sneer – and yes, sometimes all of us do – at the puzzling, anxiety-provoking ways God stirs up the spirit in our community and in our own lives.
And just like with those first apostles – those can be stumbling blocks. But they, that work, can also be an invitation of God. All of us are called to continuously ask – how am I bringing my light into the world in the name of Christ? What are the reasons – what are the fears I have about being in relationship with people I know – and with people I don’t. Am I living into what we pray together every Sunday – going now into the world in peace, with strength and courage to love and serve God with gladness and singleness of heart?
Relationships with each other – and with those we have yet to meet – take strength and courage - and are the ways we grow in our relationship with God. It is only through each other that we can be made whole. It is only through each other – as agents of reconciliation in Paul’s words – that we bring restoration into our world.
Our community is incredibly blessed – through the people, gifts and relationships we share. With what we have we are capable of doing so much more than we could ever ask or imagine.
May God continue to pour out the Holy Spirit in our lives so that with the courage of those first apostles we can see our visions and dream our dreams for the wholeness God intends for all of us. Amen.
Friday and Saturday of this weekend, Ed MacVaugh, Mary Snead and I joined about 150 other people at Turf Valley in Ellicott City for our annual diocesan Convention. And the preacher for the opening Eucharist was Bishop Chilton Knudsen – our assistant bishop since September. And our opening lesson was this well-known passage from Acts describing what happened on Penetecost.
She told a story of her high school youth group of St. Anne’s in Annapolis making a field trip to a synagogue in Washington DC. And she shared, and this was important for us to know, that as a teenager she suffered from a severe condition that almost all of us go through – and some of us never overcome – called – the “Know it All” syndrome. You know – that belief that there is nothing new under the sun. Period.
So on this trip as their group gathered to learn about the Hebrew faith and worship –the rabbi invited them to come back and join them in their celebration of Pentecost. At this Bishop Chilton eagerly raised her hand (in that way, I sadly know all too well) and said – You celebrate Pentecost? That’s so great – that must be like when we do a Seder. How cool that you take a Christian feast and replicate it in your synagogue – like we do at Passover.
On the convention floor – that sparked one of those collective – oooooh. Because we all knew what she would say next – smiling, the rabbi graciously explained that Pentecost is a Jewish Feast. Fifty days after Passover the faithful made their way to Jerusalem to celebrate the feast of Shavuot or Weeks, giving thanks for the harvest.
And Bishop Chilton did learn something new that day – one - that she didn’t know everything there was to know – and two – that before it was as Pentecost – it was Shavuot. Just as before we said Peace – Jesus said – Shalom.
Gathered in that upper room – a few weeks after Jesus told them – do not be afraid when I’m gone – those disciples were terrified. When we call Pentecost – the birthday of the church – I think we trivialize what took place. Birthdays tend to be joyful occasions – a big party. In that upper room it was anything but. To be clear those disciples – were hiding out.
And it’s not like there was this ecstatic sweeping through of the Holy Spirit – and then all of a sudden the church – as we know it – was born. Those disciples experienced what Jesus meant when he said – my peace I give you, but I don’t give you peace as the world gives. It’s peace of another kind entirely – it’s the peace of Shalom – of restoration – of wholeness – and it always includes people being stirred up – and some people sneering, judging the validity, the value of God at work.
It’s the courageous peace that surpasses understanding – that moves people past fear to participate in the restoration – the Shalom – of the world.
That’s what is most interesting to me about Pentecost. Something happened. I don’t know if it happened exactly the way the author of Acts describes it – but if you look at the disciples before Pentecost – and after Pentecost – they are transformed.
Philip stands with Jesus before Pentecost as says – ok, we’ll believe if you show us God. Peter stands with Jesus before Pentecost and says – I can’t do what you ask me to do – I can’t heal – I can’t trust – I can’t even tell someone I know you because I’m so terrified of being found guilty by association. Thomas says before Pentecost – how can we follow you Jesus when we do not know the way?
And Jesus, consistently, responds to all their insecurities and demands by saying – you do have faith – you can follow me – do not be afraid. And then he dies – appears to them, eats with them after the resurrection – and guess what, they are still afraid.
Until this happens. That experience completely changes Peter! Gone is the denying disciple – and in his place is a person unafraid to stand up in front of those who are sneering at him. Risking more than just ridicule – Peter is risking the same fate as Jesus – in claiming that God indeed has now reversed the curse of Babel – and fulfilled the promise to all God’s people – having poured out the Spirit upon all flesh.
After Pentecost – Peter and those disciples - don’t set out to build a church – they simply set out to do what they saw Jesus doing all along. For the Book of Acts – as we’ve been studying in a weekly bible study – is simply a book of the disciples imitating Jesus.
Meeting people who are different – meeting people who disagree. Listening to their story – and then sharing their own. Sitting down to eat with people – accepting hospitality from strangers. And again and again choosing to cultivate relationships of mutual transformation.
Out of that are born households of God – where people come together to pray that the Spirit will continue to be present and empower them to do the work God has given them to do.
Today is our Annual Meeting – when we come together to hear about the work God has given us to do. The work we have done – and the work that is ongoing. We work to create this household of God – to raise money – to craft a budget – to put on worship – to design programs – to care for our building and our grounds.
We work to go into the world and bring in Shalom. Through relationships with other faith communities like St. Luke’s, Carey Street or resource centers like Paul’s Place. Through Habitat for Humanity in Sandtown and Govins. Through Neighbor-to-Neighbor and ACTC in our county. Through micro-lending and macro-dreaming – we work to overcome fear and anxiety – of people and places.
It is holy work – and it is hard work. And the hardest part of all of it – what we do here – and what we do out there – is being in relationship. Mutually transforming relationships. Where we speak from the heart – and listen from the heart – open to the truth that the Spirit of God really has been poured out among all people.
Recently I listened to an story told by Rachel Naomi Remen. She doctor who promotes integrative medicine and a best-selling author. In her book, My Grandfather’s Blessing she shares a story from the Jewish tradition that explains one of the highest Jewish moral commandments – known as tikkun olam which translates – “the repairing of the world.” For this is God’s intention for all God’s people.
"In the beginning, there was only the holy darkness…the source of life. And then, in the course of history, at a moment in time, this world, the world of a thousand, thousand things, emerged from the heart of the holy darkness as a great ray of light. And then…there was an accident, and the vessels containing the light of the world, the wholeness of the world, broke.
And the wholeness of the world, the light of the world was scattered into a thousand, thousand fragments of light, and they fell into all events and all people, where they remain deeply hidden until this very day.
According to her grandfather, the whole human race is a response to this accident. We are here because we are born with the capacity to find the hidden light in all events and all people, to lift it up and make it visible once again and thereby to restore the innate wholeness of the world."
Our annual report is quite literally the Acts of this group of Apostles. Apostles means – ones who are sent. And our report shares the ways we have been sent to restore the innate wholeness of the world. However – I have a feeling our reports maybe aren’t quite as – dare I say – honest – as the stories in the book of Acts. We don’t include the conflicts in committees, because of course they happen – we don’t include our fear of going into the city, because it is a place very different from where we live. We don’t include the way we sneer – and yes, sometimes all of us do – at the puzzling, anxiety-provoking ways God stirs up the spirit in our community and in our own lives.
And just like with those first apostles – those can be stumbling blocks. But they, that work, can also be an invitation of God. All of us are called to continuously ask – how am I bringing my light into the world in the name of Christ? What are the reasons – what are the fears I have about being in relationship with people I know – and with people I don’t. Am I living into what we pray together every Sunday – going now into the world in peace, with strength and courage to love and serve God with gladness and singleness of heart?
Relationships with each other – and with those we have yet to meet – take strength and courage - and are the ways we grow in our relationship with God. It is only through each other that we can be made whole. It is only through each other – as agents of reconciliation in Paul’s words – that we bring restoration into our world.
Our community is incredibly blessed – through the people, gifts and relationships we share. With what we have we are capable of doing so much more than we could ever ask or imagine.
May God continue to pour out the Holy Spirit in our lives so that with the courage of those first apostles we can see our visions and dream our dreams for the wholeness God intends for all of us. Amen.
Monday, May 9, 2016
God's Family
Readings for the Seventh Sunday in Easter
The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. (John 17:22-24)
The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. (John 17:22-24)
To listen to the sermon click the image below
So that I will be in you
and you will be in me and you and I will be one so that they may be one in you
and you and me…and on and on it seems to go!
When I first started reading the gospels – like really reading them – I
fell in love with John’s gospel.
So mellifluous – so poetic – this way in which Jesus speaks. I’m not sure when it changed for me – maybe when
I had to write sermons – I read this chapter and my head starts to spin.
I want Jesus to speak
plainly – without going on for so long about what sounds like the same
thing. But the more I wrestle with it –
I think I begin to see why the author of John’s gospel has Jesus speak this
way. He is trying to put words around
sometime indescribable – something that isn’t doctrine or dogma. But something that is relational – and
experiential.
Interbeing. That word – from another tradition – Buddhism
– explains what I think Jesus is talking about here. Interbeing was coined by Thich Nhat Hanh –
monk and author – to name our interconnectedness. Imagine the ocean he writes. You look at the
ocean and you see the wave. You see the
froth. You see ripples within the
water. You know there is salt and
minerals and oxygen all within that water as well.
Not one of those
elements, which in tandem constitute a ‘thing’ into which you can submerge or
float, can be extracted and retain their intact relationship to the water. You cannot disconnect the wave, or the froth,
or the salt, or the oxygen and have it continue to be distinct in its own right
while maintaining its being as water. [i]
That visual is a helpful
metaphor for me. It’s how I hear Jesus describe how we are connected to God and
God to us. I think that’s why in John’s
gospel, so often, Jesus says – abide.
Abide in me as I abide in you (Jn 15). Not as if God is the home where
we will eventually go – but encouraging us see we are at home in God, now,
right now – because God is already within us. Those who abide in me, Jesus says, and I in
them bear much fruit, for apart from God we can do nothing. (15:5)
If we “think” our way
into that truth – if it’s purely an intellectual ascent – then, ok – but Jesus
is asking us to live that way. To trust
our interbeing with God and with each other, as Jesus does.
We are – again this Easter
season – at the Last Supper – the night before Jesus dies. So we can excuse the long-windedness because
this is the final soliloquy, the last time Jesus will really speak to his
disciples before his crucifixion. Now it
would seem more than appropriate if Jesus were to conclude his time with them
in teaching – spending this meal delegating responsibilities – describing next
steps – and instructing them in all they would now be responsible for. But instead – Jesus prays.
This is helpful model for
us. Since it can be hard at times to
know when to let go of control – and accept the future is not in our
hands. When Jesus gets to that point -
he prays. Not for himself – and what he
is about to endure – but for them. For
the followers gathered around the table – and for the followers who do not yet
know God – and for the followers who will come to know God. In other words – Jesus prays for everybody –
the whole human family. And he prays
that all may come to know God through love.
In early April I listened
to a story about a young woman who had been born in China. Her name is Jenna Cook and she had been
abandoned on a street in Wuhan in 1992 as a baby. Adopted by Americans and raised in Massachusetts,
she decided in college at age 20 to go back to Wuhan to see if she could find
her birth mother.
She said, laughing, that
she was naïve – thinking that with a poster and her face, her body as some sort
of evidence – as in a family member recognizing her – she’d be able to find
someone – or to be found. But tens of
thousands of Chinese children were brought the U.S in recent decades. And Wuhan was a place where leaving infants for
a variety of reasons – well, it happened a lot.
Where she was left – it
was sort of a visitor’s bureau – next to a bus station. She went there with her poster – to see it –
and thinking perhaps someone would be there who worked there then. There was.
But when Jenna asked the worker if she remembered finding a baby in
March 1992 – the woman sighed, saying “back in the day” they found abandoned
babies all the time – so much that authorities stopped recording them.
A friend of a friend got
Jenna in touch with a newspaper and her story took off, went viral. When the day came for her to meet with
possible birth parents – over 50 families showed up. Thinking there would be only mothers – she
was surprised to see how many fathers came by themselves – surprised to see
that some families brought the extended family with them – grandparents,
siblings, grandkids even.
All of these families had
left children in that same place. All of
them wanted to know – was their child ok?
Had they done well? Had they
survived? One woman brought a frayed and
tattered piece of cloth. She had
intentionally sewed a baby suit – for the day she and her daughter would
part. Hoping that one day – when she
could reunite with her daughter who would have the baby suit – and she would
have the fabric – and as with a lock and key, or second half of a locket – the mother
and daughter would know without a doubt.
But Jenna didn’t have
that baby suit – she said while the mother was standing before her – sobbing
with this thin piece of cloth in her hand – she was distraught she couldn’t be
that woman’s daughter. She wanted to
have the suit – just to ease the woman’s suffering. Jenna shared that was what happened most that
day – mothers and fathers – siblings and grandparents – crying and holding –
and sharing in the grief they all knew.
Jenna said – more than finding her mother - she so wanted to be
everybody’s daughter that day.[ii]
That longing is what I
hear Jesus praying for. Praying that we share our love of God through deep
compassion for each other – living as though we are part of God’s family. In two other gospels – a much more
straight-to-the-point-Jesus – Jesus says – Who is my mother – and who is my
brother? Those who hear the word of God and do it. (Matt 12:4850; Lk
8:21). We all know that Jesus spent his
ministry constantly breaking down the “clubs” the families – the groups – the
nationalities – the religions – that people invoked as reasons other people
needed to be kept out. For Jesus those claims
are barriers to God. To abide in God, to
seek to love as God. A love that desires
to uplift and uphold the human family – God’s family – from which we all come
from.
I don’t know about all of
you – but sometimes, I’ll confess – I’ll take God’s family over my own. Sometimes the ones you are closest too can be
the hardest to feel closest too. Yet it’s dawning on me, slowly through
experience – and it is a surprise – that as I struggle to practice Jesus’
family values with the human family – there is more forgiveness, more
compassion, more awareness of all our frailty, within my own.
When asked if she was
still continuing her search for her mother – Jenna Cook said – well yes, but
not actively. She was letting go and
letting God (leaving it up to fate, her words). For she felt she had in some ways met her
mother. She had a better understanding
of why she had been let go. And she
believed that she had given something to all those families she had met
with. She wasn’t their daughter – but for
an afternoon, in a way, she was. She
represented hope and possibility. And – she
bore witness – she let those families hold her, share their story, and weep.
Besides the genetic stuff
– it’s the shared story of our lives that makes family, isn’t it. Opening ourselves to other people’s stories
is risky – it’s hard – but it’s what moves us from “them” to “us.” This morning we hear Jesus praying for us -
all of us. That we will bring the story
of God into our lives in ways that reveal whose family we belong to most of
all.
Monday, May 2, 2016
Stand up, Take Your Mat and Walk
Readings for the Sixth Sunday in Easter
Thank you to your Rector for the invitation to worship with you and for the opportunity to share the good news of God in Christ with you this morning. My name is The Rev. Glenna Huber have been a priest in Dio of Md. for the past 7yrs. Before that I was in the Dio. Of Atl. Most recently I served as the Vicar at Church of the Holy Nativity.
Over the past year I have done congregational development in a ecumenical context serving urban congregations. Over the past year there has been some urgency around the need for church’s to be responses to the needs of the city. As you are aware, the month of April last year saw the death of Freddie Grey while in police custody and the response from some in the community resulted in unrest which gained national attention. Over the past 3 weeks I have had a variety of interviews from around the US and inevitably that ask – is there any hope for Baltimore City? – Well, you're asking a Christian and a believer in a God who says I will redeem all things, Of Course there is hope for Baltimore city. But, the injustices that the city has endured will need to be named and the people will need to own the desire to be healed before any substantial transformation can take place. (I think). It is from this urban perspective that I want to explore the Gospel with you this morning.
Jesus has gone up from Cana of Galilee to Jerusalem to celebrate one of the great religious feasts. It’s interesting that he enters the city through the Sheep Gate, the entrance to the city through which the sheep for temple sacrifices were brought. Once inside the city, he comes to the pool of Bethesda,“house of mercy.” Lying all around the pool are sick and paralyzed people. They are there because there is a legend that an angel would on occasion come and stir up the waters of the pool, and the first one to enter the pool after the angel stirred the water would be healed. For many this there was the last hope for healing. It not unlike what is still found in many parts of the world today. Lourdes, in southern France, has a spa which many believe has healing capacities. The shrine of Guadalupe, in Mexico City, is another such place were thousands have gone hoping for a healing. For so many these places of reported healing offer a type of last hope.
Jesus moves into the midst of such a group but Jesus does not indiscriminately heal everyone at that the pool that day he moves among the blind and the lame, and is drawn to one particular man, a man who had been ill for 38 years.
Jesus approaches him but doesn't ask his name or condition instead he says simply” Do you want to be healed?” Umm, Do I want to be healed, I’ve been sitting by this pool for 38 years, I can't move, nobody will help me - do I want to be healed, does the city want to be healed, being are dying in the streets on a daily basis, the schools are falling apart, seniors are afraid to even sit on their porch for fear of getting shot.
I think many of us have had an experience not unlike this man or like the Baltimore city. For years sitting yearning for some help. Sitting in hope for some type of cure. Maybe you were in desperate need of a word of encouragement, a renewed sense of peace, you needed healing in your body, your marriage, your family, a friendship, or on the job, or you just needed someone to come around you and lift you up either figurative or physically. And maybe the healing just didn’t come. And you waited and prayed and waited and prayed, things didn’t change or maybe they got worse and at some point maybe you just gave up, hope came crashing to the ground. It wasn't necessarily intentional, you didn't say to yourself I'll stop trying, it just happened, became routine. Sometimes many just get comfortable with the dysfunction. It becomes easier to live in a dysfunctional system then to take the necessary steps to make healthy healing choices. One reporter called me a few weeks ago and said she had been interviewing people for her story Freddie Grey a year later. She said people have been so negative, so hopeless. I'm calling you because I would like to add something positive, something that offers hope, can you say something hopeful?
Well, yes in fact I can. Over the past year we have been able to secure 375 local jobs for residents in low income zip codes, we have secured jobs for returning citizens and youth looking for year long employment. We have worked with over 26 employers who have agreed to set up their own accountability around local hiring. We are putting people back to work. This is slow, hard work.
The present dysfunction in the city, in our own experiences, is the result of generations of neglect or divestment or just poor choices. All of this will take time to transform and its going to take some work. There comes a point where there is no benefit in pointing out how every one else is to blame for our problems. There comes a point where there is no longer any gain from being the victim of circumstance.
Do you want to be healed, Yes! Well then get up and walk.
I hear this as Jesus saying fine – you can no longer blame others for not taking care of you. You can no longer afford the luxury of waiting for someone to take pity on you and come and fix it for you. You can't wait for the water to bubble up. You must do something that you haven’t done before, you must take a risk, and in the midst of that risk trust that God will work it out for you, and sometimes that risk involves stepping outside of what everyone else has put their faith in, stepping outside of the trusted system and having faith. "Stand up, take your mat and walk."
“At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked.” Before the man ever took his first step Jesus had already healed him. You know the man could have just sat there and said these legs have nothing left I’m not taking a chance on standing up and falling on my face. I have fallen on my face to many times in the past when I tried and I’m not making a fool of myself again. But that isn’t what he did. he believed he was healed or maybe he took a risk knowing he had nothing left to lose, either way he took action having faith that Christ might be the real deal, he had faith that maybe he had been healed. We are made well by taking action rooted in faith. It’s risky, it requires that we step out of those comfort zones, especially the dysfunctional comfort zones. The 1st steps may even be a bit tricky or painful, but We are Easter people. We know the whole story, we know God redeems all things, even the darkest scariest things that we can image, can can and will redeem - the psalm 30 expresses this sentiment by stating pain or weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.
How do we “ stand up, and walk, how does a city so mired in depression and defeat shout with authority Baltimore is rising, how do we as people who have become comfortable in our own dysfunction stand up and walk, how do we individually and collective say and show the world that we are Easter people?
Early in my ordination years I had a therapist who was really tough. We were, I thought, working through some things and one day he said Glenna, do you want things to be different? Really, I come every 2 weeks and pay you to reflect and analyze so that things are different. Right,meh calmly responded but you keep doing the same things, your re enacting the same behaviors in different situations, you need to make some changes.
Portia Nelson
“I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in. It's a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.
walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
I walk down another street.”
So that's it. Do you want to be healed, Yes? Then live differently, walk down a different street, take a risk and trust that God will redeem.
The good news is that Jesus comes to us with mercy and grace and does not see as we are, but what we could be. We are all holding on to past hurts, grievances, holding onto pain that prevents us from being wholly who God has created us to be. The good news is that the divine approaches us and does not see us as we are but as we could be.
On this 6th Sunday after the resurrection of Christ, May we the accept the healing invitation that is again offered to us, may we as Gods Easter people be made perfect in every good work to do Gods will, may our efforts rooted in faith be pleasing in Gods sight, may we accept that we have already been healed and be empowered to stand up, take our mat and walk.
The Rev. Glenna Huber
Church of the Good Shepherd
5/1/16
To listen to the sermon click the picture below
Thank you to your Rector for the invitation to worship with you and for the opportunity to share the good news of God in Christ with you this morning. My name is The Rev. Glenna Huber have been a priest in Dio of Md. for the past 7yrs. Before that I was in the Dio. Of Atl. Most recently I served as the Vicar at Church of the Holy Nativity.
Over the past year I have done congregational development in a ecumenical context serving urban congregations. Over the past year there has been some urgency around the need for church’s to be responses to the needs of the city. As you are aware, the month of April last year saw the death of Freddie Grey while in police custody and the response from some in the community resulted in unrest which gained national attention. Over the past 3 weeks I have had a variety of interviews from around the US and inevitably that ask – is there any hope for Baltimore City? – Well, you're asking a Christian and a believer in a God who says I will redeem all things, Of Course there is hope for Baltimore city. But, the injustices that the city has endured will need to be named and the people will need to own the desire to be healed before any substantial transformation can take place. (I think). It is from this urban perspective that I want to explore the Gospel with you this morning.
Jesus has gone up from Cana of Galilee to Jerusalem to celebrate one of the great religious feasts. It’s interesting that he enters the city through the Sheep Gate, the entrance to the city through which the sheep for temple sacrifices were brought. Once inside the city, he comes to the pool of Bethesda,“house of mercy.” Lying all around the pool are sick and paralyzed people. They are there because there is a legend that an angel would on occasion come and stir up the waters of the pool, and the first one to enter the pool after the angel stirred the water would be healed. For many this there was the last hope for healing. It not unlike what is still found in many parts of the world today. Lourdes, in southern France, has a spa which many believe has healing capacities. The shrine of Guadalupe, in Mexico City, is another such place were thousands have gone hoping for a healing. For so many these places of reported healing offer a type of last hope.
Jesus moves into the midst of such a group but Jesus does not indiscriminately heal everyone at that the pool that day he moves among the blind and the lame, and is drawn to one particular man, a man who had been ill for 38 years.
Jesus approaches him but doesn't ask his name or condition instead he says simply” Do you want to be healed?” Umm, Do I want to be healed, I’ve been sitting by this pool for 38 years, I can't move, nobody will help me - do I want to be healed, does the city want to be healed, being are dying in the streets on a daily basis, the schools are falling apart, seniors are afraid to even sit on their porch for fear of getting shot.
I think many of us have had an experience not unlike this man or like the Baltimore city. For years sitting yearning for some help. Sitting in hope for some type of cure. Maybe you were in desperate need of a word of encouragement, a renewed sense of peace, you needed healing in your body, your marriage, your family, a friendship, or on the job, or you just needed someone to come around you and lift you up either figurative or physically. And maybe the healing just didn’t come. And you waited and prayed and waited and prayed, things didn’t change or maybe they got worse and at some point maybe you just gave up, hope came crashing to the ground. It wasn't necessarily intentional, you didn't say to yourself I'll stop trying, it just happened, became routine. Sometimes many just get comfortable with the dysfunction. It becomes easier to live in a dysfunctional system then to take the necessary steps to make healthy healing choices. One reporter called me a few weeks ago and said she had been interviewing people for her story Freddie Grey a year later. She said people have been so negative, so hopeless. I'm calling you because I would like to add something positive, something that offers hope, can you say something hopeful?
Well, yes in fact I can. Over the past year we have been able to secure 375 local jobs for residents in low income zip codes, we have secured jobs for returning citizens and youth looking for year long employment. We have worked with over 26 employers who have agreed to set up their own accountability around local hiring. We are putting people back to work. This is slow, hard work.
The present dysfunction in the city, in our own experiences, is the result of generations of neglect or divestment or just poor choices. All of this will take time to transform and its going to take some work. There comes a point where there is no benefit in pointing out how every one else is to blame for our problems. There comes a point where there is no longer any gain from being the victim of circumstance.
Do you want to be healed, Yes! Well then get up and walk.
I hear this as Jesus saying fine – you can no longer blame others for not taking care of you. You can no longer afford the luxury of waiting for someone to take pity on you and come and fix it for you. You can't wait for the water to bubble up. You must do something that you haven’t done before, you must take a risk, and in the midst of that risk trust that God will work it out for you, and sometimes that risk involves stepping outside of what everyone else has put their faith in, stepping outside of the trusted system and having faith. "Stand up, take your mat and walk."
“At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked.” Before the man ever took his first step Jesus had already healed him. You know the man could have just sat there and said these legs have nothing left I’m not taking a chance on standing up and falling on my face. I have fallen on my face to many times in the past when I tried and I’m not making a fool of myself again. But that isn’t what he did. he believed he was healed or maybe he took a risk knowing he had nothing left to lose, either way he took action having faith that Christ might be the real deal, he had faith that maybe he had been healed. We are made well by taking action rooted in faith. It’s risky, it requires that we step out of those comfort zones, especially the dysfunctional comfort zones. The 1st steps may even be a bit tricky or painful, but We are Easter people. We know the whole story, we know God redeems all things, even the darkest scariest things that we can image, can can and will redeem - the psalm 30 expresses this sentiment by stating pain or weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.
How do we “ stand up, and walk, how does a city so mired in depression and defeat shout with authority Baltimore is rising, how do we as people who have become comfortable in our own dysfunction stand up and walk, how do we individually and collective say and show the world that we are Easter people?
Early in my ordination years I had a therapist who was really tough. We were, I thought, working through some things and one day he said Glenna, do you want things to be different? Really, I come every 2 weeks and pay you to reflect and analyze so that things are different. Right,meh calmly responded but you keep doing the same things, your re enacting the same behaviors in different situations, you need to make some changes.
Portia Nelson
“I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in. It's a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.
walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
I walk down another street.”
So that's it. Do you want to be healed, Yes? Then live differently, walk down a different street, take a risk and trust that God will redeem.
The good news is that Jesus comes to us with mercy and grace and does not see as we are, but what we could be. We are all holding on to past hurts, grievances, holding onto pain that prevents us from being wholly who God has created us to be. The good news is that the divine approaches us and does not see us as we are but as we could be.
On this 6th Sunday after the resurrection of Christ, May we the accept the healing invitation that is again offered to us, may we as Gods Easter people be made perfect in every good work to do Gods will, may our efforts rooted in faith be pleasing in Gods sight, may we accept that we have already been healed and be empowered to stand up, take our mat and walk.
Church of the Good Shepherd
5/1/16
Monday, April 25, 2016
Choosing Acts of Glory
Readings for the Fifth Sunday in Easter
Do you have a favorite line of scripture? There are a lot - 1 Peter – above all, maintain constant love for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins.
Have you ever attended worship in the Orthodox Church? Greek, Russian, Romanian – it doesn’t matter. While our sacramental theology is basically the same – the worship is very, very different. It’s more ethereal than our style of worship – less straightforward. The whole liturgy is sung or chanted – incense fills the air. For us, it’s certainly different enough for the sacred to be experienced anew.
When I lived in New York I made several visits to an Orthodox monastery upstate, called New Skete. The community was actually featured on 60 Minutes once because the brothers are well-known for how they raise dogs – The Art of Raising a Puppy, is one of their best-selling books. But that wasn’t how I learned about them.
One Saturday afternoon, I was in a bookstore on the upper west side of New York – a small, narrow bookstore. And to browse, you climbed up one of these ladders that rolled against the tall cases – because the books which were stacked very high. I was probably in the religion section and I pulled out a book for its inviting title – In the Spirit of Happiness – which was by the monks of New Skete.
The title summarizes the book well. An encouraging and explanatory take on cultivating daily and small practices to bring fulfillment and meaning. The power of daily prayer, acts of mercy, choices of compassion and devotion to God. For how we spend our lives is really how we spend our days.
I devoured the book. Who doesn’t want happiness? And immediately made a plan to visit the monastery. Which is a little northeast Albany, NY. The sisters of the community by the way – make cheesecake – and that was bound to make me happy.
If you’ve ever worshiped in monastic community – or even if you’ve been to a worship service that is different than what you’re used to – you know it can be intimidating. You want to do everything right. You want to be respectful – you see yourself through the eyes of everyone there who knows what they’re doing and your fear is that they are all looking at you and thinking you don’t belong. You feel – I felt very self-conscious.
The liturgy of New Skete is, thankfully all in in English – but it is still all sung. So, for the first daily offices I attended – I didn’t try to participate. I just decided to let what was happening wash over me – by being fully and respectfully present – which truly is sometimes enough.
The first evening vespers I went to – the monks chanted the last three psalms in the psalter, beginning with Psalm 148, which we heard this morning. Scholars believe these three psalms intentionally conclude the psalter as a culmination of our awareness of God’s glory. How everything, all of creation is constantly giving thanks to God - let everything that breathes praise the Lord.
When the brothers chanted Psalm 148 – they stood around a circular, wooden, lecturn – it had multiple sides, and rotated – so that standing in a circle the brothers could read their book. They started chanting Praise the Lord from the heavens, praise the Lord from the heights. And then kind of like a round, but not exactly, other brothers would start the next line, and so on and so on – until you had this cacophony of harmonies – with discernible words popping out here and there – but blending into this growing and expansive wall of sound that filled – the heights of that space.
The music covered you in a representation of our belief that that there is a constant choir of creation praising the Creator at all times and in all places – that is good and right and joyful always and everywhere to give thanks to God - joining our voices with angels and archangels who forever sing God’s praise. Those are the words we use in our worship to invoke the same. We are reminded, obviously, because we forget – or stop trusting – that this praise really is happening all the time. This never-ending song of creation reflecting the ongoing glory of God that covers the world.
Jesus connects with this glory in a pretty interesting way. Jesus says, at the last supper, now the Son of Man, Now God is glorified. Weird to go back, don’t you think? We’re in the He is risen phase – so why is our gospel from the night before he dies?
Well, just as we give greater importance to the last words of a dying person – or we replay conversations we’ve had with someone who is gone, and then recognize a deeper significance of what was said between us – we are doing that with Jesus in liturgical time.
And so we hear – At the last supper, when Judas had gone out – Jesus said, now the Son of Man has been glorified and God has been glorified in him. That one stage direction is pretty incredible – when, Judas, the person who will betray Jesus – leaves the room to get started, get started on lying, get started on selfishness – look how Jesus responds?
He doesn’t respond by badmouthing Judas to all the other disciples. He doesn’t start devising a way to subvert him. He doesn’t speak of vengeance or punishment upon his return. Instead, he turns to the first followers and models the new commandment he shares – love one another. People will know the depth of your relationship with me – he says – by the way you imitate my love.
Jesus’ love covered Judas’ sin. When someone he thought was close acts out of selfishness, Jesus chooses love. His response – praises God – glorifies God – is an immediate connection to that choir of love and creation.
In one of the chapters of the book – In the Spirit of Happiness – the question is posed– how in the world do all of you (the monks in community) love each other all the time? Surely you get on each other’s nerves. And the monk replies – oh you better believe we do! So then, how do you do it? How do you love people you don’t even like?
You pour the water, the monk replies. You pay attention to your gestures – your words – and choose to act in love. It’s not a feeling, it’s a choice. You remind your heart of the singular and overwhelming love God has for you – and you choose to let that direct your actions. It doesn’t matter whether or not you feel love for that person – you trust in the words of Jesus on the night he died – choose to follow an example and act out of the love.
And it is in the practice of the small gestures – the less important conversations – the pouring the water – again and again – something happens. We grow our compassion. Our eyes are opened to the challenges all of us are facing. Our ears are opened to simple gifts to be grateful for. And your heart is continuously shaped to reflect the source of love that is always with us, unto the ages of ages.
We have no idea what Jesus was feeling when he said these words – angry, disappointed, heartbroken. The gospel doesn’t share how he was feeling – because what mattered was what he said – and how he acted. His response was a choice.
Which is why – this week – the Spirit led me to the ever-present encouragement for us found in First Peter -
Above all, maintain constant love for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaining. Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received.
Whoever speaks must do so as one speaking the very words of God; whoever serves must do so with the strength that God supplies, so that God may be glorified in all things through Jesus Christ. To him belong the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen. (1 Peter 4:8-11)
The Rev. Arianne R. Weeks
To listen to the sermon click the image below.
Do you have a favorite line of scripture? There are a lot - 1 Peter – above all, maintain constant love for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins.
Have you ever attended worship in the Orthodox Church? Greek, Russian, Romanian – it doesn’t matter. While our sacramental theology is basically the same – the worship is very, very different. It’s more ethereal than our style of worship – less straightforward. The whole liturgy is sung or chanted – incense fills the air. For us, it’s certainly different enough for the sacred to be experienced anew.
When I lived in New York I made several visits to an Orthodox monastery upstate, called New Skete. The community was actually featured on 60 Minutes once because the brothers are well-known for how they raise dogs – The Art of Raising a Puppy, is one of their best-selling books. But that wasn’t how I learned about them.
One Saturday afternoon, I was in a bookstore on the upper west side of New York – a small, narrow bookstore. And to browse, you climbed up one of these ladders that rolled against the tall cases – because the books which were stacked very high. I was probably in the religion section and I pulled out a book for its inviting title – In the Spirit of Happiness – which was by the monks of New Skete.
The title summarizes the book well. An encouraging and explanatory take on cultivating daily and small practices to bring fulfillment and meaning. The power of daily prayer, acts of mercy, choices of compassion and devotion to God. For how we spend our lives is really how we spend our days.
I devoured the book. Who doesn’t want happiness? And immediately made a plan to visit the monastery. Which is a little northeast Albany, NY. The sisters of the community by the way – make cheesecake – and that was bound to make me happy.
If you’ve ever worshiped in monastic community – or even if you’ve been to a worship service that is different than what you’re used to – you know it can be intimidating. You want to do everything right. You want to be respectful – you see yourself through the eyes of everyone there who knows what they’re doing and your fear is that they are all looking at you and thinking you don’t belong. You feel – I felt very self-conscious.
The liturgy of New Skete is, thankfully all in in English – but it is still all sung. So, for the first daily offices I attended – I didn’t try to participate. I just decided to let what was happening wash over me – by being fully and respectfully present – which truly is sometimes enough.
The first evening vespers I went to – the monks chanted the last three psalms in the psalter, beginning with Psalm 148, which we heard this morning. Scholars believe these three psalms intentionally conclude the psalter as a culmination of our awareness of God’s glory. How everything, all of creation is constantly giving thanks to God - let everything that breathes praise the Lord.
When the brothers chanted Psalm 148 – they stood around a circular, wooden, lecturn – it had multiple sides, and rotated – so that standing in a circle the brothers could read their book. They started chanting Praise the Lord from the heavens, praise the Lord from the heights. And then kind of like a round, but not exactly, other brothers would start the next line, and so on and so on – until you had this cacophony of harmonies – with discernible words popping out here and there – but blending into this growing and expansive wall of sound that filled – the heights of that space.
The music covered you in a representation of our belief that that there is a constant choir of creation praising the Creator at all times and in all places – that is good and right and joyful always and everywhere to give thanks to God - joining our voices with angels and archangels who forever sing God’s praise. Those are the words we use in our worship to invoke the same. We are reminded, obviously, because we forget – or stop trusting – that this praise really is happening all the time. This never-ending song of creation reflecting the ongoing glory of God that covers the world.
Jesus connects with this glory in a pretty interesting way. Jesus says, at the last supper, now the Son of Man, Now God is glorified. Weird to go back, don’t you think? We’re in the He is risen phase – so why is our gospel from the night before he dies?
Well, just as we give greater importance to the last words of a dying person – or we replay conversations we’ve had with someone who is gone, and then recognize a deeper significance of what was said between us – we are doing that with Jesus in liturgical time.
And so we hear – At the last supper, when Judas had gone out – Jesus said, now the Son of Man has been glorified and God has been glorified in him. That one stage direction is pretty incredible – when, Judas, the person who will betray Jesus – leaves the room to get started, get started on lying, get started on selfishness – look how Jesus responds?
He doesn’t respond by badmouthing Judas to all the other disciples. He doesn’t start devising a way to subvert him. He doesn’t speak of vengeance or punishment upon his return. Instead, he turns to the first followers and models the new commandment he shares – love one another. People will know the depth of your relationship with me – he says – by the way you imitate my love.
Jesus’ love covered Judas’ sin. When someone he thought was close acts out of selfishness, Jesus chooses love. His response – praises God – glorifies God – is an immediate connection to that choir of love and creation.
In one of the chapters of the book – In the Spirit of Happiness – the question is posed– how in the world do all of you (the monks in community) love each other all the time? Surely you get on each other’s nerves. And the monk replies – oh you better believe we do! So then, how do you do it? How do you love people you don’t even like?
You pour the water, the monk replies. You pay attention to your gestures – your words – and choose to act in love. It’s not a feeling, it’s a choice. You remind your heart of the singular and overwhelming love God has for you – and you choose to let that direct your actions. It doesn’t matter whether or not you feel love for that person – you trust in the words of Jesus on the night he died – choose to follow an example and act out of the love.
And it is in the practice of the small gestures – the less important conversations – the pouring the water – again and again – something happens. We grow our compassion. Our eyes are opened to the challenges all of us are facing. Our ears are opened to simple gifts to be grateful for. And your heart is continuously shaped to reflect the source of love that is always with us, unto the ages of ages.
We have no idea what Jesus was feeling when he said these words – angry, disappointed, heartbroken. The gospel doesn’t share how he was feeling – because what mattered was what he said – and how he acted. His response was a choice.
Which is why – this week – the Spirit led me to the ever-present encouragement for us found in First Peter -
Above all, maintain constant love for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaining. Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received.
Whoever speaks must do so as one speaking the very words of God; whoever serves must do so with the strength that God supplies, so that God may be glorified in all things through Jesus Christ. To him belong the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen. (1 Peter 4:8-11)
The Rev. Arianne R. Weeks
Monday, April 18, 2016
He's Risen! Now what?
Readings for Easter 4 - Good Shepherd Sunday
Get out. Please leave. Time to go.
I wonder how Peter said it. Did he yell it? There were a lot of people, a lot of commotion in that upstairs room. Did he overpower their voices with his, or quietly usher them all outside?
We don’t know how – but Peter put all of them out – before he brought resurrection in. He made some space – he prayed – and then he lived into belief – saying, “Tabitha, get up.” And she did it! Opened her eyes, sat up, took his hand. And then – surely in a strong voice – he called all the saints and widows back into the room for she was alive!
Peter didn’t know Tabitha. But Peter trusted. He accepted the invitation of two strangers who came to him and said – please come with us. There is something you have to see. Peter didn’t know if what he would do would work. But he trusted in the possibility.
How often are we presented with the invitation – would you come and see? How often do we accept? How often do we – for whatever reason – say, sorry I don’t know you and I can’t add anything to my plate? How often do we stop ourselves before we even try? Thinking we don’t have the power God says we do?
Peter went – without knowing what he was getting into to. But it would’ve been all too familiar when he got there. Death, mourning – a wake. But the women who greeted him at the door wanted him to know – this wasn’t just any wake – because this wasn’t just any woman. Tabitha was a saint – she was their saint.
She was a widow – which means she had no money – she had no power – and she wasn’t known to the people who did. Just like the people of her community. But they knew her and they loved her. And they were beside themselves because she would no longer be in their lives.
And as they wept they showed him who Tabitha was– the tunics, the afghans, their blankets, their clothes, their prayer shawls. All of these beautiful and basic things that – Tabitha made with her hands, with her gifts.
This is who Tabitha was. Widowed like us. Poor like us – but she gave anyway. And we loved her – and we need her – please bring her back.
A question for me in these gospel accounts – why are certain people – like Lazarus – like Tabitha – brought back to life.
The resurrection of Jesus is to show God’s power over death. God cannot be overpowered by the finitude of time – and so gives us the good news of a meaningful life here to be followed by an eternity of meaning – at one – with God. That’s Jesus resurrection – a category of its own.
The resurrection of Lazarus – of Tabitha is different. Neither will ascend to be seated at the right hand (or wherever exactly) – both will die again. So why? What is the message for us in this story?
Number 1 – Peter accepts an invitation of strangers. He doesn’t know the two men who come – but he is willing to be a witness – to just go and see – something that is hard. He believes he is needed – because they say he is needed. In a variety of ways – all of hear that same invitation. It may be hard to go and see some of the people – some of the places we are invited to – but trust – you’re witness is needed. Someone once said to me – I don’t know if I have faith all the time – but I act like I do. Bingo. Peter trusts, he lives into faith – and it took him awhile to get there didn’t it?
Number 2 – The widows and the saints in that room are grieving what they had lost, the person and their gifts. Sometimes we need to be reminded of what we have. There is so much we take for granted every day – it can’t be helped, I know that. We all do it. But when something changes – when someone is gone – then we realize. Then we realize how the small gestures – the mundane comforts – the assumed presence – when it’s gone – then we feel the gratitude. In this story – we, the onlookers, are reminded – show your love – show your gratitude – now.
Number 3 – Look at what Peter does when he gets there. He models something he saw Jesus do – all the time. Shut the door – go in there by yourself – and pray. We are the only ones who can build sacred space and time in our own lives. We hear Jesus, the Good Shepherd say – my sheep know my voice. That implies we are listening for God’s voice. Listening is not passive – it requires our attention, our practice, our whole selves. Peter cannot let God in – until he puts the noise, the people out. We all need to create the quiet to listen for God’s voice.
Finally – and I think this is the most important point for a faith community. Resurrection is never about just one person. It is always God working through one person for the sake of the community – the common good. When I’ve preached on the raising of Lazarus – and I would imagine the same hold true for Tabitha – isn’t there the chance that when she’s brought back she says – “Well what did ya go and do that for?”
Of course, I’m sure she was grateful – but just think of her community’s gratitude. How weeping was turned into shouts of joy! Imagine how they felt – these poor, powerless, forgotten saints and widows – seeing just how much someone cared for them. They show Peter Tabitha’s love through what she created. Peter shows them God’s love for all of them – who God created.
I don’t know if it’s still there – but if you’re driving on Bosley off of Towsontowne in Towson – for me that’s the route to Target – you cross York – and a little ways on your left there’s a Lutheran church and the have a church sign. So the week after Easter I drove by and it read – Alleluia. Jesus is risen. Now what?
That’s a great sign! Alleluia. Christ is risen. Now what? For Peter – scared Peter, doubting Peter – now, he’s going to start acting his faith. Accepting invitations – modeling Jesus’ practice of prayer – going into places and communities that ask for a witness, that ask for help. Now Peter is going to believe that God really has equipped him with everything he needs.
Now what? O God, whose Son Jesus is the good shepherd of your people: Grant that when we hear his voice we may know him who calls us each by name, and follow where he leads.
Are you listening for the voice of God in your life - now? Are you listening for God’s invitations - now? What do you hear? Where is God calling you? Where are being led? Do you trust God has given you the power to be a sign of God’s love for all of God’s people?
Someone shared a wonderful article in the Wall Street Journal by James Martin, Jesuit priest and author. Titled “The Challenge of Easter” maybe you read it? Martin writes –
“If you believe that Jesus rose from the dead…everything changes. In that case, you cannot set aside any of his teachings. Because a person who rises from the grave, who demonstrates his power over death and who has definitively proven his divine authority needs to be listened to. What that person says demands a response.
In short, the resurrection makes a claim on you.”
(http://www.wsj.com/articles/the-challenge-of-easter-1458916153)
Jesus’ resurrection made a claim on Peter – a claim that changed everything about the way he acted in the world. A claim that changed the way he listened and the way he followed. A claim that forever impacted the lives of the people God led him to.
What is the claim the central truth of our faith makes on you? It’s different this Easter season than it was last – and will be again – because the Good Shepherd is calling your name right now – so – now what? Amen.
The Rev. Arianne R. Weeks
To listen to the sermon, click the image.
Get out. Please leave. Time to go.
I wonder how Peter said it. Did he yell it? There were a lot of people, a lot of commotion in that upstairs room. Did he overpower their voices with his, or quietly usher them all outside?
We don’t know how – but Peter put all of them out – before he brought resurrection in. He made some space – he prayed – and then he lived into belief – saying, “Tabitha, get up.” And she did it! Opened her eyes, sat up, took his hand. And then – surely in a strong voice – he called all the saints and widows back into the room for she was alive!
Peter didn’t know Tabitha. But Peter trusted. He accepted the invitation of two strangers who came to him and said – please come with us. There is something you have to see. Peter didn’t know if what he would do would work. But he trusted in the possibility.
How often are we presented with the invitation – would you come and see? How often do we accept? How often do we – for whatever reason – say, sorry I don’t know you and I can’t add anything to my plate? How often do we stop ourselves before we even try? Thinking we don’t have the power God says we do?
Peter went – without knowing what he was getting into to. But it would’ve been all too familiar when he got there. Death, mourning – a wake. But the women who greeted him at the door wanted him to know – this wasn’t just any wake – because this wasn’t just any woman. Tabitha was a saint – she was their saint.
She was a widow – which means she had no money – she had no power – and she wasn’t known to the people who did. Just like the people of her community. But they knew her and they loved her. And they were beside themselves because she would no longer be in their lives.
And as they wept they showed him who Tabitha was– the tunics, the afghans, their blankets, their clothes, their prayer shawls. All of these beautiful and basic things that – Tabitha made with her hands, with her gifts.
This is who Tabitha was. Widowed like us. Poor like us – but she gave anyway. And we loved her – and we need her – please bring her back.
A question for me in these gospel accounts – why are certain people – like Lazarus – like Tabitha – brought back to life.
The resurrection of Jesus is to show God’s power over death. God cannot be overpowered by the finitude of time – and so gives us the good news of a meaningful life here to be followed by an eternity of meaning – at one – with God. That’s Jesus resurrection – a category of its own.
The resurrection of Lazarus – of Tabitha is different. Neither will ascend to be seated at the right hand (or wherever exactly) – both will die again. So why? What is the message for us in this story?
Number 1 – Peter accepts an invitation of strangers. He doesn’t know the two men who come – but he is willing to be a witness – to just go and see – something that is hard. He believes he is needed – because they say he is needed. In a variety of ways – all of hear that same invitation. It may be hard to go and see some of the people – some of the places we are invited to – but trust – you’re witness is needed. Someone once said to me – I don’t know if I have faith all the time – but I act like I do. Bingo. Peter trusts, he lives into faith – and it took him awhile to get there didn’t it?
Number 2 – The widows and the saints in that room are grieving what they had lost, the person and their gifts. Sometimes we need to be reminded of what we have. There is so much we take for granted every day – it can’t be helped, I know that. We all do it. But when something changes – when someone is gone – then we realize. Then we realize how the small gestures – the mundane comforts – the assumed presence – when it’s gone – then we feel the gratitude. In this story – we, the onlookers, are reminded – show your love – show your gratitude – now.
Number 3 – Look at what Peter does when he gets there. He models something he saw Jesus do – all the time. Shut the door – go in there by yourself – and pray. We are the only ones who can build sacred space and time in our own lives. We hear Jesus, the Good Shepherd say – my sheep know my voice. That implies we are listening for God’s voice. Listening is not passive – it requires our attention, our practice, our whole selves. Peter cannot let God in – until he puts the noise, the people out. We all need to create the quiet to listen for God’s voice.
Finally – and I think this is the most important point for a faith community. Resurrection is never about just one person. It is always God working through one person for the sake of the community – the common good. When I’ve preached on the raising of Lazarus – and I would imagine the same hold true for Tabitha – isn’t there the chance that when she’s brought back she says – “Well what did ya go and do that for?”
Of course, I’m sure she was grateful – but just think of her community’s gratitude. How weeping was turned into shouts of joy! Imagine how they felt – these poor, powerless, forgotten saints and widows – seeing just how much someone cared for them. They show Peter Tabitha’s love through what she created. Peter shows them God’s love for all of them – who God created.
I don’t know if it’s still there – but if you’re driving on Bosley off of Towsontowne in Towson – for me that’s the route to Target – you cross York – and a little ways on your left there’s a Lutheran church and the have a church sign. So the week after Easter I drove by and it read – Alleluia. Jesus is risen. Now what?
That’s a great sign! Alleluia. Christ is risen. Now what? For Peter – scared Peter, doubting Peter – now, he’s going to start acting his faith. Accepting invitations – modeling Jesus’ practice of prayer – going into places and communities that ask for a witness, that ask for help. Now Peter is going to believe that God really has equipped him with everything he needs.
Now what? O God, whose Son Jesus is the good shepherd of your people: Grant that when we hear his voice we may know him who calls us each by name, and follow where he leads.
Are you listening for the voice of God in your life - now? Are you listening for God’s invitations - now? What do you hear? Where is God calling you? Where are being led? Do you trust God has given you the power to be a sign of God’s love for all of God’s people?
Someone shared a wonderful article in the Wall Street Journal by James Martin, Jesuit priest and author. Titled “The Challenge of Easter” maybe you read it? Martin writes –
“If you believe that Jesus rose from the dead…everything changes. In that case, you cannot set aside any of his teachings. Because a person who rises from the grave, who demonstrates his power over death and who has definitively proven his divine authority needs to be listened to. What that person says demands a response.
In short, the resurrection makes a claim on you.”
(http://www.wsj.com/articles/the-challenge-of-easter-1458916153)
Jesus’ resurrection made a claim on Peter – a claim that changed everything about the way he acted in the world. A claim that changed the way he listened and the way he followed. A claim that forever impacted the lives of the people God led him to.
What is the claim the central truth of our faith makes on you? It’s different this Easter season than it was last – and will be again – because the Good Shepherd is calling your name right now – so – now what? Amen.
The Rev. Arianne R. Weeks
Monday, April 11, 2016
Letting the Scales Fall
The Third Sunday in Easter
A sermon by the Rev. Dr. Angela Shepherd, Canon for Mission, Diocese of Maryland
Church of the Good Shepherd
4/10/16
Acts 9:1-20
Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" He asked, "Who are you, Lord?" The reply came, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do." [The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank.
Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, "Ananias." He answered, "Here I am, Lord." The Lord said to him, "Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight." But Ananias answered, "Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name." But the Lord said to him, "Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name." So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, "Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit." And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength.
For several days he was with the disciples in Damascus, and immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, "He is the Son of God."]
To listen to the sermon click the image
A sermon by the Rev. Dr. Angela Shepherd, Canon for Mission, Diocese of Maryland
Church of the Good Shepherd
4/10/16
Acts 9:1-20
Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" He asked, "Who are you, Lord?" The reply came, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do." [The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank.
Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, "Ananias." He answered, "Here I am, Lord." The Lord said to him, "Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight." But Ananias answered, "Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name." But the Lord said to him, "Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name." So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, "Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit." And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength.
For several days he was with the disciples in Damascus, and immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, "He is the Son of God."]
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