Called to Speak: January 31

Can you see the scene in today’s Good news? Jesus comes into the synagogue, talking about God’s inspiration through the Holy Spirit and God’s grace.  He says it’s happening right here, in me, with me, through me.  And they begin to taunt him just a bit---Who does he think he is?  Isn’t he just Joseph’s son?  Jesus recognizes that they aren’t getting it.  And then Jesus really gets in hot water.  He makes the gathering so furious they want to throw Jesus off a cliff! (Preaching can be a dangerous activity) 

The people are enraged because they want this supposed prophet, healer, teacher---whatever he is---to say that the Good News---the salvation, the healing of our wounds which will make us whole---is all for them.  Just them.  But this upstart preacher tells them: Hey: Our hero Elijah shared God’s grace with a non-Jewish Widow---a person on the margins---and Elisha went to a leper, and a foreign one at that, to share God’s healing and grace. Jesus goes into the synagogue to remind people about what they are supposed to be doing.---Take the Good News of God’s grace and salvation out into the world, people.

This is a Word today’s church needs to hear and understand.  As the Bishop of Texas, Andy Doyle says: "We have convinced ourselves that mission happens inside the church building.  But beloved, Mission happens out in the world."

But that’s so much harder.  It’s uncomfortable. I don’t wanna……. Like Jeremiah we might find ourselves saying: But God, I can’t do that.  I’m too young.  I’m too old.  I’m an introvert. It makes me uncomfortable.  I don’t have the time.  That’s someone else’s job!

God will have none of it.  God says to Jeremiah, and God is saying to us: Rise up!  There are no excuses!  You have been called to speak.  You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll be with you.  I will rescue you.  I have got your back!

Like Jeremiah, God is calling us to speak---to speak the Good News of God’s grace, the grace that heals our brokenness and the world’s brokenness.  God is calling us to confront and uproot all that is not of God in our world, in our lives, and in our selves. We have to uproot and dig out whatever oppresses, whatever takes life instead of gives life, whatever damages God’s people—in our systems, in our ways of life, in our hearts and minds---so that there can be healing, there can be restoration, there can be new life.

Here is our Truth as people of Easter, people of the Resurrection: there must be death in order for there to be new life.  If we want new growth, new life---within us as individuals, within our faith communities, within our city, our country, the nations---then there must be death.  The question before us is: What are we going to allow to die in order that there might be new life?  We can’t get to the Resurrection without the cross, and we can’t get to new life and new growth without death, without loss, without sacrifice.  What are we willing to let go of in order to flourish as God’s people, as the living members of the Body of Christ, as the Church?

First and foremost, we have to deal with the reality that we are called to speak.  We have to quit acting as if the shrinking of the Body of Christ in the world is someone else’s fault---as if it is something happening outside our control.  We must stop being afraid, moving from fear.  God is our rock, our refuge.  God sustains us and delivers us.  God has a hold on us and this steadfast, loving, generous God is not about to let go. 

One mystery of faith is how it grows.  We expect it to be about receiving. It makes sense that if we receive, if we get something, then our faith will grow.  But this God of ours is Mystery.  Flourishing in faith actually comes mainly from letting go, surrendering, from giving rather than from receiving.  It is when we put others first, when we serve one another, when we pray for one another, when we are focused outside of our own self that our faith strengthens, refines, refocuses and flourishes.  Like Jesus, when we empty ourselves, we are made whole.

We are called to claim our voice---called to speak---to go outside these walls and share God’s grace—in our words, our actions, our choices.  To speak a word of love, not condemnation.  For too long the Church has spoken words of condemnation.  It is time to speak love, to live love, love that is patient, kind; love that does not demand its own way, that is not irritating, arrogant, boastful or resentful, love that believes all things, bears all things, endures all things, hopes all things.

This is certainly not easy or comfortable.  And it can be done in a variety of ways---ways which we will be exploring and trying this year because it is the work that God calls us to do.  But we need not be afraid.  We need not worry about not being holy enough or good enough or any other kind of enough.  God says we are enough.  Just as we are.  God says we are enough, and God says we are God’s beloved. We are God’s apostles sent out to share God’s love and mercy with the world---not just to our own kind, but to every kind.  St Francis of Assisi said: “Preach the Gospel at all times, when necessary use words.

And so, my beloved community of Intercession Episcopal, let us be a community of mercy that welcomes all into our midst,  a community that goes out seeking the lost, tending to the least of these as lovingly and with as much reverence as we have for the presence of Jesus in bread and wine. The Creator of all things has our back; the maker of the heavens and the earth is looking out for us.  Be bold.  Be courageous.  Let us live out our call to speak the Good News.  It will not be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is.  God is with us, working in us and through us so that others may know God in our words, in our actions, in our welcome, and in our love.  Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

Agents of Miracles: Sunday, January 17

Second Sunday after Epiphany C

Sunday, January 17, 2016

Epiphany is the season of God being revealed; the showing forth of God’s kingdom into the world.

In today’s Gospel reading, we are given a picture of the Kingdom of God.  It is a vision of abundance—a celebration—a wedding banquet with wonderful wine that never runs out and the best is saved for last.  A time of joy, fellowship, and hospitality.  This is how we are meant to live. This is how we are to worship.

So what do we do when life doesn’t hold up to this vision; when it falls short, either in our lives or in the world around us? A week and a half ago Laura, the United Methodist Campus Minister, and I took three UWSP students to the Twin Cities on a mini-mission trip.  We worked at a Thrift Shop that supports incoming immigrants, as well as those with no or limited incomes.  We also volunteered to help with dinner service at a downtown Minneapolis Salvation Army Center. There are 4 serving times for dinner---3 of them are “in-house” communities and staff, people recovering from addiction, and then the last serving time is a general audience---mostly the homeless or impoverished.

I was the first person they met when they got to the front of the line—handing out the trays with the main entrée.  I greeted them, smiled, tried to make eye contact. Two faces stick with me.  One was a man, probably in his 40s, who was a resident in one of the recovery programs.  As he walked forward in the line, he was leaning against the wall, kind of sliding along.  Simply walking forward in the line was a struggle.  His face was shockingly white.  My first thought was: He is really not well.  It was all he could do to take the tray and keep moving.  Not much of a reaction; he did attempt to answer questions: Would you like gravy? He exuded sorrow, helplessness, and isolation.

The other face also belongs to a man; he came in with the last group.  Carrying a backpack and a plastic shopping bag, I think he was probably homeless.  He wore glasses, had a smile, very genial and pleasant.  He looked to be in his 70s.  Since he was there, getting a meal, I could only surmise that there was no where else for him to go—no home, no family, no close friends who could or who would take this senior citizen in for a meal, a bed, a hot shower.

Of course, I do not know the entire story of either of these men.  I do not know if they have burned bridges or hurt others or simply not led lives that helped them to connect to others.  Ringing in my head that night were these words: Whatever you do for the least of these……Leave the 99 in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost…..

What do we do when life is this….this hunger, this deprivation, this disease, this poverty, this brokenness, this need?  When life is homelessness, poverty, unemployment or lack of medical care---the lives of those who walked into that shelter looking for sanctuary---or those who come here seeking help----or those who walk amidst us in these communities of Point and Plover?  When the wedding banquet celebration seems just a dream and the Kingdom of God appears to be non-existent?

As disciples of Jesus, this is where and when we come in.  When reality, ours or anyone else’s, does not match the picture of abundance we find in the wedding banquet---when there is no abundance, no joy, fellowship or hospitality---then like Mary: we take action.  We call on the Divine; we become instruments of the Divine, so that God’s Kingdom can break forth into the broken reality.

This changing water into wine we hear about in John’s Gospel is classified as a miracle; it’s a sign of God’s power in the world.  Friends, we are capable of this.  We are agents of miracles.  It starts as simple as asking one question: how are my gifts called to respond to this situation?

St. Paul tells us: “To each of us is given a manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.”

We are infused with the Holy Spirit in order that we can be agents of the Kingdom who change the present broken reality, bringing it closer to God’s vision.  Changing water into wine.

Earlier we prayed: “Grant that your people, illumined by your Word and Sacrament, may shine with the radiance of Christ’s glory….”  Each time we gather on the Lord’s day, we are miracle agents.  We gather to thank God, to praise God, to make God known, to know God, to worship God, to reveal God’s Kingdom.  We gather to recreate that wedding banquet in a very real way. 

God is the audience of our worship; not us.  This is God’s banquet, not ours.  It is a party thrown at our expense.  It requires our planning, our time, the giving of our efforts—to make bread, to read the story, to serve at the altar, to sing the praise, to lift others in prayer.  We throw this party at God’s request—inviting God’s party list to the banquet.  From the youngest among us to the longest-living.  From the wealthiest to the impoverished, the powerful to the powerless, the weakest to the strongest, and every and any other description on the human spectrum.  All are to be welcomed in order to see and know God’s abundance, love, and hospitality. Worship is not about receiving; it is about giving.  And in the giving, we receive.

Liturgy---a public work of the people performed at private expense---is not something done primarily for those who provide the liturgy.  It is a gift, a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving we make for God and for others, so that God’s Kingdom can be tasted and seen----made real for a time in the midst of the chaos and suffering of the world---so all can come to believe the Kingdom is real.  The Kingdom is now.  The Kingdom is here.

There are always two streams of time flowing in our lives: the mundane, everyday counting of time, in hours and minutes, called Chronos.  While we wile away the hours in chronos time, Kairos time is also unfolding.  Kairos time doesn’t have the calculated measurements like chronos time; it is indeterminate.  This is God’s time---a broader, wider, ever-flowing river that exists around, beside, and outside of Chronos time.

In this first miracle of John’s Gospel, changing water into wine, it is the third day of the wedding banquet.  These wedding banquets lasted for seven days, historians tell us---seven days of time set apart from chronos time.  For these people, everyday life was about working hard, day after day, in order to have enough.  But, at a wedding banquet---this set apart time---it’s all about hospitality and abundance; joy and fellowship.  At a wedding banquet, to run out of wine is a big problem.  And it couldn’t be solved by simply running to Copps or Trigs.

Running out of wine isn’t just embarrassing.  It’s a social disaster.  Wine is a sign of the harvest---of God’s abundance, joy, gladness and hospitality.  To run short of wine was to run short of blessing, not a great way to start a marriage or the building of new relationships.  A disaster.

But, friends, do not fear.  It’s the third day.  The third day.  The day when God acts, God happens, God resurrects, and God saves in order for disaster to be averted.  Here the two streams of time, chronos and kairos, interwine.  In chronos time, the servants have nothing to serve.  Mary obviously swims in Kairos time.  She recognizes her ability to act in a way to avert the disaster.  And even though Jesus doesn’t even recognize God’s movement unfolding at first, Mary takes action.  It’s time. She tells her son. It’s time. The time to act is now.

Like Mary, when we see situations and events in our life, in the world around us that do not match up to God’s kingdom of abundance, joy, fellowship and hospitality---then it is time to act.  It is the time to ask ourselves how our gifts may be used.  It is Kairos time---time to call on the Divine to use us to intervene and shine forth the Kingdom.

When we only perceive from chronos time, we will often believe disaster hasn’t been averted. The truth is God does not always save us from pain, from suffering, from tragedy or disaster. Living in chronos time, we can see nothing but the brokenness.  Kairos vision requires we get a broader view.  Kairos vision grants us the ability to know that God always desires and is willing to redeem, to resurrect, to restore, and to give new life.  We are called to be agents of this redemption, this resurrection, this restoration.  No less miraculous.  Reconciliation and restoration leads to salvation; it leads to our wholeness.

As disciples, those illumined by God’s Word and Sacraments, we are called to facilitate God’s timing to pierce through the clouds of everyday life---offering a glimpse of the Kingdom in the midst of poverty, pain, and suffering. 

Theologian David Lose writes: “Every moment we live in Jesus has the capacity to mediate the Divine.” Through small acts of kindness and large acts of generosity---through the gifts of patience, acceptance and understanding---under the influence of love, true love that acts for the benefit of the other, the common good---in the worship that is designed to gather any and all in, even at the expense of our personal preference or our comfort and expectations, ---we have the ability to shine forth God’s grace, glory and love into this broken world.  Changing water into wine.

We are called to be the prophets---like Isaiah who declares: I will not keep silent; I will not rest; I will not be hushed until God’s people know salvation….until the Kingdom shines on the hill for all the world to see and know. Until God’s glory radiates over the face of the earth. We are prophets. Let us not be silenced.  Let us not be hushed.  Let us not rest.  God’s Kingdom come; God’s will be done, inside this building and shining out beyond this walls, from this time forth forevermore.  Amen. Amen. and Amen.

You Can't Get There from Here

As we stand here on this tenth day of Christmas, gathered to worship God the Father in the Name of Jesus the Redeemer, empowered by the Holy Spirit, we have a choice. 

We can live and move from hope or we can choose and act, vote and respond from fear.

Many people in our world, in our media, those in power and leadership and those who walk with us in our everyday lives---so many would have us move from fear, telling us that in order to achieve our dream---American or otherwise—our dream of personal safety, of personal health, of personal wealth, then we must move from fear.

The fear of not having enough, so we should accumulate, consume and purchase more and more so somebody else doesn’t get what should be ours.

The fear of not being enough so we live a rat race of multi-tasking, going, going, and going 24/7 so we can do more, accomplish more, get more, be more.

The fear of being inconvenienced or uncomfortable so we have every right to close our doors to foreigners and strangers because they don’t understand our ways, speak our language, or hold our beliefs.  And, after all, they might take/get some of what is rightfully ours.

This is the fear of “us versus them.”  The fear that separates and labels peoples and nations, creating borders God doesn’t even see-- all so that we can pretend to know who is us and what is ours and, therefore, that is all with which we need to concern ourselves.

All one has to do is read history, any history of human action in the world, and one will find that every evil act ever enacted, every evil idea ever held, every evil word ever spoken finds its origin in fear.  Fear attached to any dream based on “me and mine” instead of “us and ours.”

But Christmas brings us another option: Hope.  And Christmas, in the form of the human baby named Jesus (which means the One who saves), Christmas gives us another dream to lead us—God’s dream, writ large on the Universal tapestry from the sky-scattered stars to the dust beneath our feet ---God’s dream which would have us choose and act, vote and speak, believe and respond from Us and Ours---one Human family, Genesis 1 reinstated as God has always planned.  Peace on Earth and Good will for and toward all people.

God’s dream delivers to us today’s Good News, the promise of Christmas, that God has restored, is restoring and will continue to restore us, that God drenches us with grace, that God directs, guides, and protects us—leading us home instead of leaving us in the desert to fend for ourselves---this Good news is the Truth of God’s dream that can set us free.

Because God restores us, we need not fear not having enough, not being enough or not accomplishing enough.

Because God directs, guides and protects us, we need no longer believe that our safety relies on borders, weapons, militaristic might and the downfall of others.

Because God drenches us with grace and abundance, we need no longer fear that someone else is going to get what we deserve; we are freed from the fear of stranger and alien----as if humanity could strip us from God’s grace when that is something that can only be lost by our own choosing, no one else’s.

The promise of Christmas, which is the promise of Genesis, the promise of Easter and the promise God has given us ever since we were created: is that God’s storyline is bigger and wider than any other storyline out there----even the one in our darkest fears, our scariest dreams, and the nightmare of the world around us. 

When I was about 4 years old or so, my family spent some time in Maine.  One of the things we brought back was an album called “Bert and I.”  It was a comedy album of jokes and stories recorded by people who had a thick “Maine” accent.  I was a strange child.  I listened to it a lot. 

One of the jokes went something like this:  You hear a car driving up and past, turning around and driving up and past, and turning around one more time and finally coming to a stop.  The driver asks for directions.  A person tells him, “Oh, a-yuh….you have to go up a ways to the county road, take a left, drive a ways…….oh, no, no, no……you need to go straight on, take the next right, travel down to the fork in the road and take a left and…..oh: no, no, no.  Let’s see here, you turn straight around, go ‘bout three, four mile down the road, take a left by the big tree at the cross road…..ah, no, no, no.   Then, there’s a pause and the person giving directions says: Come to think of it, you can’t get there from here.

This punchline is the lie the fearmongers all around us would have us believe.  The fear that we can’t get there from here--- we can’t get to God’s dream from here.  The fearmongers tell us: It’s impossible, it’s implausible, the joke is on you.

But we know what we believe, we disciples, we beloved children of God, we who celebrate and profess the Christmas proclamation: Peace on earth and good will for all people.  We know what we believe.  We gather and profess it every Sunday in the Creed, in the Lord’s Prayer, in our confession, in the absolution, and as we make and pray the Eucharist.  We know what we believe, we apostles, we brothers and sisters of Christ: we make promises and vows, at every baptism, based on our belief that God is God, and we are God’s and God is in control. That God provides for all God’s people---and all shall be well in ways we can not even possibly imagine because God’s narrative is larger than any story humanity can write.

But to get from here to there, from this nightmare we often find ourselves in to God’s dream of peace and good will---we must begin living the dream, the promise of Christmas.  We must participate in God’s Kingdom. The World will call us crazy.  Even our own friends and families might try to talk us out of it, tell us we are taking it too seriously, going just a bit too far in our convictions.  But, even if we are the only ones, I say let’s do this thing.  Let’s live this Gospel Truth—empowering one another, recognizing the gifts of one another, sharing these gifts with outrageous and compassionate generosity.  Let us live Christmas.  Let us choose hope and dream God’s dream. Let us live what we believe and deny the world the punchline of the joke that stems from fear and leads to evil: you can’t get there from here.

The Angels proclaimed: Do not fear.  God has come to bring Peace on earth and Good will for all people.  Beloved,  God is with us, Immanuel, the promise of Christmas, we can get there from here.  Believe.  Live Christmas.