In Contrast

A sermon preached at Grace Episcopal Church, San Antonio, Texas.

The Lectionary readings for the seventh Sunday after Pentecost can be found here.

Last week we heard Jesus say that a prophet has no honor in his hometown and then immediately sent the disciples out in pairs telling them if they aren’t accepted where they go to shake off the dust and continue on. Jesus wanted them to understand that the message of good news must be spread. It is too good, too important, to keep for ourselves. In fact, Mark begins his telling of the Jesus story with the words “the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ!”

And immediately after Jesus sends the disciples to spread this good news of hope, healing and the power of love, Mark paints us a graphic picture of corrupted power in a dramatic flashback of King Herod and the death of John the Baptizer.

Herod began to hear tales of this Jesus fellow, and like others, wanted an acceptable explanation of why Jesus was able to perform the miracles he did. He couldn’t be just an ordinary man, he had to be someone raised form the dead. I always find it curious that these people found it easier to believe that someone had come back from the dead than it was to believe that God could do good through an “undead” human being. The only explanation Herod was willing to entertain was that the man he had killed was back haunting him. I wonder if it was because Herod’s power in life was so fragile that he could only imagine ultimate power in a life outside of this one?

This Herod is the son of Herod the Great who sought to kill Jesus when he was born by killing all babies under the age of 2. This Herod, like his father, ruled over Galilee as a client king of The Roman Empire, whose security depended on keeping the Emperor happy.

John the Baptizer, Jesus’ cousin, was the original messenger of the good news to come, considered by many to be the bridge between the last of the Old Testament prophets and Jesus’ message of love and hope. John didn’t fret over whether or not he made folks happy or even if they accepted his message. John knew his role as a messenger meant he was only responsible for proclaiming the good news message given him. He was not responsible for whether or not folks liked the message or accepted it.

Herod participated in the world’s definition of power and yet he was drawn to what John the Baptizer had to say. Herod knew deep down that there was a different way to live, a way based on true justice and mercy and grace not fear, a way that brought peace instead the stress and anxiety of ‘keeping up with the Januses”, The Way of true life and not a life in the constant shadow of death.

John’s religious teaching wouldn’t have been new to Herod, having been raised in a Jewish household. But Herod loved his wealth and power more and lived in the anguish of guilt because of his political maneuverings. Herod’s wife had no such guilt and wanted John silenced for good. Herod’s fear of everyone and everything frustrated her efforts until one day she was able to manipulate the situation and get her way.

When we see this scene depicted in art, Herod’s daughter is most often portrayed as a grown woman. But based on extra-biblical historical records she probably would have been a young girl, a child caught up in the destructive web of political power and personal vengeance of her parents that required she, too, learn to manipulate those around her for her own survival.

So what on earth are we to do with this horrific flashback? Why would Mark include it in his telling of the good news of Jesus Christ?

One of the questions I ask myself as I read scripture is “what can we learn about who God is in this?” A question made even more challenging by the fact that God isn’t mentioned nor is Jesus a part of these verses.

Herod hears of the good works of Jesus and has a flashback to John’s murder and then we move on in the story. Herod doesn’t go after Jesus, he doesn’t seek him out or attempt to learn more about him. This backstory just sits there begging us to ask out loud: What is the point of this?

So, what can we learn about God from this story? The only character with any goodness is murdered. It’s like a bad movie with a cliffhanger ending and no resolution and we just sit staring with our mouths open, needing more before we can exit the theatre.

So before you just walk out, let me assure you there is a point. And the point is made by what isn’t there. This story illuminates God’s goodness by having us look at the stark contrast of human actions governed by greed rather than grace, the actions of a corrupted king up against the actions of Jesus as the King of Kings, of the true power of love laid side by side with the power of manipulation and vengeance.

Herod’s entire life revolved around political power and worldly goods – an impossible pursuit of satisfaction, loving things and using people.

Herod and his wife both use their daughter to get what they want: he wants to impress the people who are just as greedy and power hungry as he is and his wife wants revenge against the one person who spoke God’s truth into their lives. In their world, people are just a means to the end, the goal of which is more power and more money and more, more, more.

The contrast creates a clear picture of God’s Kingdom on earth that Jesus is teaching the disciples – and us – to proclaim with our very lives. A Kingdom grounded in love that operates with mercy and grace with no one outranking anyone else but all equally loved and cared for by God. A kingdom into which invitations are issued but no one is coerced and loving acts of kindness are carried out with no expectation of payment or reciprocation. A kingdom in which all of our resources are used to enable everyone to thrive.

We learn more of who God is and who we are in relationship with God by witnessing the horrific results of putting human egos at the center of our own kingdoms rather than learning to live in God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven with Jesus at the center.

The stories Mark gives us about Jesus’ teaching and ministry are just the beginning of the good news. And we are the continuation of that story; we are still living in God’s story. We are the instruments through which God reveals the Kingdom on earth so that others see a different way to live, the life we are all created to live. Herod saw it and wanted it but gave in to his desire for power instead. But that doesn’t undo the life-giving message of God’s love for everyone.

This good news message is life, life grounded in God’s love, life lived seeking the greater good for everyone in which compassion and grace guide who we are and what we do. Jesus came to show us this Way of Love. The Way in which we are made whole and holy as God’s beloved children.

To quote St. Paul in his letter to the church in Ephesus that we also read today: “It’s in Christ that we find out who we are and what we are living for.”

And we can’t keep this message quiet. Together, every moment of every day, we are called to live it, for God’s glory not our own. Amen.

God-Seasoned

Good Tuesday, Y’all! How is your coffee this morning? I keep having to remind myself that it’s summertime and for many, even post-COVID isolating, this means our daily routines change. We don’t have to get the kids ready for school; we are planning vacations; spending the long evenings outside. And perhaps, because of our transitioning out of COVID precautions we are doing more traveling and more day-cations on the weekends.

For me and my husband, things haven’t really changed much because of the season. We don’t have kids at home. He’s retired and I’m in the transitional space between leaving one parish and going to another, so my days remain the same. I always wake early, spend time in prayer and writing (with my coffee, of course!), and then move into whatever is on schedule for this particular day. Some days I feel quite filled with purpose and reason and other days, not so much.

I have really enjoyed writing about the Beatitudes as we have pondered together Jesus’ description of Kingdom Life as Matthew tells us the Gospel story. I pray these reflections have been a blessing for you, too. So, let’s continue with to walk through this sermon of Jesus. If you need to refill your coffee, please do.

Following the descriptions of life in God’s Kingdom, Jesus tells us our collective purpose: to share these blessings we’ve received with the world. We are to season the world with God seasoning and shine God’s light so others can see the amazing God colors in this world.

Jesus said, “Let me tell you why you are here. You’re here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness?”
‭”Here’s another way to put it: You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill.”

Matthew 5:13-16, The Message

Instead of thinking of ourselves as the actual salt, I think we are more like a salt shaker. That I am aware of, salt cannot not taste like salt but a salt shaker can run out of salt and needs to be refilled.

A flame can go out and need to be relit. The fuel a lamp uses (oil, wax, electricity) can run out and need to be replenished.

We all need regular replenishment spiritually, physically, emotionally, and yes even intellectually. And there is so much more to being replenished than just taking some down time. For many of us, we’ve had too much down time this past year-plus and we are ready to go-go-go. And how many times have you returned from a vacation only to need a vacation to rest from your vacation?

Replenishing our salt and our fuel requires intentional time of slowing down and listening to God’s voice so that we can hear “you are my beloved.” Allowing God to replenish us at our very core is the foundation of living the Kingdom life Jesus describes. It is God who provides what we need to be blessed when our world changes, our hearts are broken, we face the inevitable challenges of this world. It is God’s Love for us that enables us to live humbly, walking with Jesus as we share our God-seasoned life with others.

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine!

The light we are given is to be used to shine the way to God’s love for others. We must tend to this precious light so that it shines brightly for all to see. We are blessed so that we can share God’s blessings with everyone we encounter. Have a blessed Tuesday, my friends.

Hometown

A sermon preached at Grace Episcopal Church, San Antonio, Texas.

The Lectionary Readings for the sixth Sunday after Pentecost are found here.

What do you consider to be your ‘hometown’? Where are your roots?

When I’m asked where I’m from, I always hesitate about how to answer because it isn’t a simple answer. In fact, I’ll confess, my citizenship is a bit sketchy.

I was born in Nuremberg Germany, in a German hospital, and I have a German birth certificate. My parents were US born, US citizens, living abroad. They did what they were supposed to at the time and filed my birth with the US consulate in Munich. When I was 2 we returned to the states but I didn’t have my own passport just an ‘infant stamp’ on my mom’s passport.

With the paperwork provided to my parents by the consulate, I got a social security number and my first job when I was 13 and I’ve worked and paid taxes ever since. Prior to 9/11 I traveled to Mexico and Canada needing only my driver’s license. In my mid-30s I was going to travel to Europe and for the first time needed my own passport so I gathered the paperwork I had and sent in the application and a few weeks later I got a letter from the state department saying they had no record of my existence.

Thanks be to God my mom still had her old expired passport that had my infant stamp in it so I sent that in and the good folks at the passport office went hunting for answers. They discovered all of the original paperwork that my parents had filed in Munich thirty plus years earlier in a dusty basement corner. It had never been sent to the State Department for proper processing.

Eventually, I received an envelope with my citizenship papers dated 1967 and signed by Secretary of State Colin Powell. Some day, some one is going to do that math and realize there is a 35 year discrepancy between the date and the signature and who knows what will happen then.

In my life, I’ve been a citizen of 2 countries, lived in three different countries and 5 different states, and because of the mission work I do there I call Guatemala my ‘other’ country.

In our mobile world, many of us aren’t living in the town we were born in or even where we spent our childhood. And yet, we all have a deep-seated need for ‘roots’ (pun intended). We are created in the image of the Trinitarian God to be most fully human in community.

And when our circumstances don’t allow that connection through a geographic location, our ‘hometown’ becomes that community, institution, or organization we choose to belong to because it aligns with who we want to be or who we think we should be or even who we think others expect us to be. We tend to choose to set our roots with those who share our worldview.

And, like Jesus, if we begin to shift and change our way of seeing and responding to the events around us in a way that is different from that of our ‘hometown’ our credibility is questioned and even challenged.

“Isn’t this the carpenter’s son? Isn’t this the one who learned from us to be just like us? How dare he change or voice something different! Who does he think he is?!”

What drives this questioning isn’t Jesus ability to teach and heal but the fear that if one of their hometown changes they will all have to change, because that’s how community works. So, instead of being a community that grew bigger with inclusion they chose to shrink their border to be one of exclusion.

But a prophet’s job is to disrupt the norm. And in general we don’t respond well when our ‘norms’ are disrupted because our identity is rooted in these norms. So when someone begins to call into question the worldview of the group, the easiest way to maintain the status quo is to discredit the one causing the disruption, even if what they are saying is right and true.

Those who know us best and the longest generally have the greatest challenge when we choose to change and grow. We’ve disrupted who they have become accustomed to us being or who they think we should be.

When we are the one who calls into question the norms of a community, we are not only changing our individual identity but the very identity and existence of the whole group.

Jesus teaches that our roots, our foundation, our citizenship if you will, aren’t to be planted in the institutions of this world but in God’s Kingdom on earth, the Kingdom that Jesus tells us is at hand, right here among us because the Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven IS us.

My citizenship situation honestly caused quite an identity crisis for me. I’d been living and working and paying taxes in this country I love, that my dad and brother served, for decades and was told I didn’t exist. If I wasn’t a US citizen, what was I? Who was I?

I wasn’t the prophetic voice speaking out but still my credibility as a citizen had been brought into question. And so I began to discover my created identity as God’s beloved child and citizen of God’s Kingdom. I found the foundation that can never be shaken.

Through my personal experience, I have discovered how important it is for each of us to examine where we’ve put our roots, to ask ourselves if our identity is defined by who and whose we are as God’s beloved or defined by who we exclude.

Do we let our faith inform and shape our worldview or let our hometown worldview govern how we live our faith?

In God’s Kingdom, we don’t have to wonder if we belong. We don’t have to worry that others don’t accept us as we are. We don’t have to wonder if our citizenship is sketchy or not.

Jesus teaches us to live in the here and now, as Kingdom People. Our identity as Kingdom People is formed by who we follow not by who we exclude. Our Kingdom worldview is shaped by the Love of God that enables us to love as Jesus loves so we see through a lens of compassion, not judgement.

Kingdom People don’t lean left or right, we walk the Way of Jesus’ Love and The Way is big enough for everyone. God’s Kingdom isn’t defined by who we exclude but by who God includes.

Today we celebrate the birth of our amazing and yet not perfect country. And I don’t want anyone to hear me saying we shouldn’t do that. I love this country. I just try to let my words and actions show that I love Jesus more. I try my best with God’s help to let my love of Jesus teach me how to be a good citizen of God’s Kingdom and this country.

When we choose to remain static in our “hometown,” never willing to grow, the inevitable changes of life can shake our foundation when we ground our belonging and identity in anything other than God’s Kingdom.

Sometimes, as Kingdom People, when we follow Jesus our hometown will call our credibility into question. We will offer others the peace of God’s Kingdom sometimes they will refuse. And together, we continue to follow Jesus, in the confidence that our identity, our foundation is solid.

How would it change each of us when we decide to be first and foremost a citizen of God’s Kingdom?

How would that affect our view of our country that we celebrate today?

How would it change our community and our country if we really claimed and lived our Kingdom citizenship?

When we choose to live as Kingdom people first and foremost, to align ourselves with Jesus and be more faithful to God than any human created institution, we live on an unshakeable foundation. When things begin to change, whether we initiated the change or it happened to us we can stand firm, knowing that we grow best when well planted.

We are all God’s beloved. We live in a great and imperfect country, established and instituted by human hands. To live primarily as a citizen of God’s Kingdom doesn’t mean we have to give up or deny our love for this country. It does mean that we walk with Jesus in the Way of Love as we live in our human established ‘hometowns’, proclaiming the good news of Jesus with all that we do and all that we have because we know without a doubt who and whose we are. Amen.

More than Enough

A sermon preached at St. Francis by the Lake, Canyon Lake, Texas.

The Lectionary readings for today are found here.

Do you remember the bit I told you about last week that we skip in the lectionary? Jesus heals a man of a Legion of demons?

After Jesus had healed this man of the demons the man begs Jesus to let him join the disciples. Jesus tells him no, that he has a different plan. Jesus tells the man to return to his home and tell everyone what Jesus has done for him. And the man does just as Jesus instructed him and everyone listened and was amazed at what Jesus had done for him. This man was re-membered, re-connected to his community. He was restored to wellness and wholeness not just as in individual but so that he could again be a part of a community.

This story of community acceptance that was the closing bookend to last week’s story is this week’s opening.

As we heard, Jesus and the disciples return back across the lake. And he finds himself surrounded by a large crowd of people. From this crowd, a leader of the synagogue approaches Jesus with an urgent plea about his very ill daughter and without hesitation Jesus goes with Jairus and the crowds follow.

They are interrupted on their journey, not by someone confronting Jesus openly and publicly as Jairus had done but by someone who didn’t want to be noticed. A woman who had been ill for so many years that she probably couldn’t even remember what being well felt like. And not only had she been physically ill but the system that was supposed to help her had made her situation worse and she was now financially depleted as well. She was not a welcome member of her community. She would have been considered unclean and would have been banned from social gatherings and public places by the very synagogue that Jairus was a part of.

But she’d heard of this healer named Jesus and so she tried to sneak through the crowd that surrounded him. If she could only just touch him, just touch the very edge of his clothes, she knew in her heart of hearts that she’d be well again.

And as soon as she does, she is well. She felt her body restored to wholeness. Imagine all that was going through her mind! I can return to being an active member of my community! I can work and provide for myself and return to caring for my family! And as she began to fade back to the edge of the crowd, a voice speaks over the noise: “who touched my clothes?”

Before she could even decide if she was going to make herself known, Jesus’ disciples try to keep him moving along toward Jairus’ house and tell Jesus there is no way of knowing who touched him.

Jesus isn’t deterred and he looks around the crowd, searching the faces. He wants to know who had such faith that only touching his clothes would restore them. And she steps forward, unsure if she’d get in trouble because she was in the crowd. She could claim she was healed but they’d known her as the outcast for so long, would those around her accept her as she was now? Could they see her in a new way? Could they see her with the same eyes of Jesus that were looking deep into her heart right now?

And to assure her and all who witnessed this, he spoke out loud what had occurred within: you have taken a risk of faith, you are restored. Live well and live blessed. And then he says, “be healed of your plague.” But she was already physically healed, so why would Jesus state it this way? Because he wanted this secret healing made public so that she could be fully restored in all ways so that she could live well – in community as God intends for all of us.

And now we have to turn our attention with Jesus back to Jairus: some folks arrive with the tragic news that it’s taken too long and Jairus’ daughter has died. It’s done, no need to bother the teacher any longer.

Imagine Jairus’ reaction. Imagine how you’d react. He’d come to Jesus face to face and asked him to come and touch his daughter so she’d be healed. And Jesus was distracted by some outcast who snuck through a crowd she was’t even supposed to be near and took Jesus’ attention away from this synagogue leader’s urgent request. How could Jesus let this happen?!?

Jesus looks right at Jairus and says, “don’t let them distract you, listen to me, trust me.” And continued on toward Jairus’ home, dismissing the crowds and leaving even some of the disciples behind, we can assume as crowd control.

When they arrive, Jesus walks past the crowd gathered around the house, I’m sure to bring their casseroles because that’s what we do when people are near death. Jesus speaks directly to the little girl and she is restored to wholeness as well as her family. And then he says, “grab one of those funeral casseroles as feed her!”

Both Jairus and this woman took risks.

Jairus was a synagogue leader, one of the groups that Jesus spoke out against, warning them about their outward, showy religious acts while living in a way that casts out this woman because of an illness out of her control. To come to Jesus, meant Jairus risking his respect and status in the community.

The woman risked her life because she had nothing left to lose.

And there was enough of Jesus’ love and compassion for both of them. To Jesus they are both beloved children of God.

One of them didn’t deserve what Jesus could do for them any more or less than the other because love in God’s kingdom isn’t about deserving, it is about belonging.

Jairus, a man of status and power and this woman who ranked among the lowest in their society both knelt before Jesus.

We are most fully human when we are in community with God and each other. It’s how God designed us to be. We are created in the image of God, the Trinitarian God who is the ultimate community. We are most fully human when we live in the knowledge and faith that we are the body of Christ incarnate. Each and every one of us, infinitely valuable to God. Each and every one of us needed and necessary and wanted.

We are “joined together in unity of spirit,” “made a holy temple acceptable.”

Who are you in this story? The one who comes to Jesus boldly or the one who tries to sneak in unnoticed? Or perhaps one of the crowd who says it’s taken too long, don’t bother the teacher any longer?

Are you willing to risk everything that the world has to offer for what Jesus gives us, the gift of whole and holy life in God’s Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven? Do we listen to the crowd that says “don’t bother the teacher, it isn’t worth it” or do we listen to Jesus when he says, “don’t be afraid, trust in me?”

God wants all of us to come to him, however we are able and just as we are. In our relationship with Jesus we are restored to the wholeness and holiness of God’s Kingdom, as God’s beloved children.

Your faith has healed you. Get up. Together we will eat from God’s table and be made whole. Amen.

Good Company

Most of us who claim to be Christian in the United States do not know what it is to be truly persecuted for believing in God or following Jesus. We may feel as if we’ve been treated unfairly or that others have attempted to silence us in some instances but never have our lives been in danger, never have we been arrested, imprisoned, or tortured because of what we believe.

So is it possible to claim this blessing of commitment? Absolutely! Jesus doesn’t give us this Kingdom descriptions so that we can seek persecution but so that we have a deeper understanding of the commitment to God that being Kingdom People is all about. Our devotion to Jesus is to be so complete that we are willing to miss out on or lose whatever this world says is the answer to success or fame or comfort. Whatever the pressure around us to live the world’s way, we stay true to The Way and journey with Jesus deeper into God’s Kingdom each and every day. We don’t have to be persecuted to do this.

Following Jesus isn’t easy. Jesus never sugar coated this. He goes on in the description of Kingdom People to say that when people put us down or cast us aside because we live like Kingdom People, that we should be glad. The truth of God’s love makes them uncomfortable and to maintain their comfort, they attempt to silence the truth we live.

Being ridiculed for living as Jesus teaches puts us in good company. It puts us in his company. The Truth we live is grounded in God’s love for all. When the world says we have to take a side, pick a party, choose our affiliation, we are to choose God’s Kingdom. And if the human organized and created groups we are a part of promote any other way than loving God and our neighbor, we remain true to our commitment to Jesus, even if these people don’t like us any more.

You’re blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God’s kingdom. “Not only that—count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—give a cheer, even!—for though they don’t like it, I do! And all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company. My prophets and witnesses have always gotten into this kind of trouble.

Matthew 5:10-12, The Message

And like all good teachings and stories, this kingdom descriptor should make us look at ourselves and ask “when have I don’t this very thing? When have I been uncomfortable with the Truth of God’s love and ridiculed others for living and speaking this truth? When have I claimed a commitment to God only to label and belittle others instead of loving them? When have I chosen an earthly affiliation over my commitment to God?”

Together with God’s help we can journey deeper into God’s Kingdom every day as we follow Jesus in the Way of Love. We are blessed with good company.

A Good Journey

Peace, my friends. For as long as I can remember and long before I discovered I fit in with the Nines on the Enneagram, and even before I had the self-understanding and words to articulate it, I have sought peace. Not just the simple absence of conflict (which I mistakenly have, for much of my life, attempted to achieve through avoidance as my fellow Nines will understand) but true peace that comes with the understanding that regardless of what is going on around me, I am at peace with and in God and who I am in relationship with God.

This peace comes from knowing that there is absolutely nothing I can do to make God love me any more or any less than God loves me now and has always loved me even before I was born and will love me regardless of whatever mess I may get into tomorrow. It is a peace that comes from knowing I am infinitely valuable to The One who created me. And this peace comes from knowing the very same about each and every other human being on this planet. You and you and you and you and you and you and, yes, even you!

And when we know this peace, we discover that this life isn’t a competition but a companionable journey. God doesn’t love me more or less than you. God doesn’t want anything better for you than God wants for me. God doesn’t give me any more or less than you. I can’t be a better child of God than you are.

When we stop living life as a competition, we have peace. When we discover that we are all the same in God’s loving eyes, we no longer need to build ourselves up or tear each other down. This is who we are all created to be: God’s beloved children living in unity with God and each other. When we choose to live as if this weren’t true, we find ourselves in conflict with ourselves, with God, and with each other.

You’re blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family.

Matthew 5:9, The Message

I seek peace and I know that conflict and disturbance are inevitable in this world. The two go together. Peace isn’t an absence of conflict. Peace is navigating the conflict with God. And the key to being able to readily giving ourselves over to God in times of disturbance is giving ourselves over to God in times of comfort, walking with God daily, as we journey with each other, so that regardless of what is occurring either around us or in us, we are at peace with who God is and who we are as God’s beloved children.

May the peace of God be with you!

Just as He Is

A sermon preached at St. Francis by the Lake, Canyon Lake, Texas

the Lectionary readings for the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost.

A few years ago, in the good old days when meeting up with a big group of friends for coffee was a typical activity, I was sitting with some good folks conversing about nothing specific as we just enjoyed our beverages and each other’s company in the cozy setting of our local cafe. One of the ladies that I know fairly well had just made a lovely statement about being an image bearer of God. The various conversations around our table quieted as it seemed everyone was pondering the depth of her casual comment. And then someone began to laugh and said, “well if we are created in God’s image then God is a cranky middle aged woman.” And everyone laughed and resumed their previous sentences and thoughts.

Of course the thought that went scrolling through my head is “nope, that’s creating God in your image” and I’ve always wondered if I should have spoken up in that moment but being a priest in that kind of social situation is always tricky and so I decided that it wouldn’t have been productive at all to correct her publicly even if I could have pulled it off as a witty and friendly comment. People would have responded to anything I said as a priestly correction instead of me just voicing my beliefs as they all were. Anyone else around the table could have said what I was thinking and it wouldn’t have brought the gathering to an abrupt halt.

But this moment wasn’t a wasted moment – God has brought good fruit from it as I’ve seen in myself where I was painting God in my image rather than discovering the image of God in me.

In our gospel reading today, we are continuing our walk through the good news story as told by Mark and the bit we are given today that helps us discover how we see God is best understood in light of the what comes before and after it. So, I’m going to give us the bookends to today’s reading:

If you recall, last week the gospel reading was about seeds and growth and provision – a little mustard seed is so much more than what it seems to be at first, just like the parables Jesus uses to teach.

After all this talk of seeds and the purpose of parables, Jesus decides to take a boat ride with the disciples to the other side of the lake, just a he was. Did you catch that part? The disciples took Jesus in their boats: just as he was.

In all the years I’ve known this part of the story, I can honestly say I’ve never noticed those four words before. One of the amazing and life-giving things about God’s word that we have in our Bible is that when we go to it with an open heart and mind, we are given something new. I know these four words have been there all along, but in this time, they are new to me.

They took him into their boats, the Jesus they thought they knew so well, to sail to the other side of a lake they’d been fishing on and walking the shores of their whole lives. They knew this lake well, too. They knew that sudden, dangerous squalls were common and they knew how to navigate in these storms to safety.

And, Jesus, taking advantage of a little down time, decides to take a nap. Our bodies need rest and taking time off was God’s idea to begin with, right? So Jesus is napping. And a storm envelopes them. These men who had navigated probably hundreds of these storms in their life wake Jesus with the accusation that Jesus doesn’t care.

Having grown up with a hobby fisherman, I know the drama with which fishermen like to embellish their stories, something that has apparently been around a long time.

“Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

Without hesitation, Jesus calms the wind and the waves. And then he turns to them as says, “why were you afraid? Where is your faith?”

These men hadn’t been working with Jesus for very long at this point, but they had seen him heal people and make them new; they had heard him speak about growth and God’s provision.

I think Jesus’ question about faith is two fold: Don’t you believe in what you’ve already seen me do? AND Don’t you yet believe that you will do amazing things with me? Jesus is asking them where is their faith in God AND where is their faith in their ability with God’s help to do what Jesus has called them to do.

But, before we get into that a bit more, I first want to share what comes after today’s reading because even though I’ll be with y’all next week, the lectionary skips over the next bit that so beautifully frames today’s part of the story. Let me tell you the story:

As they arrive on the opposite shore, they encounter a man possessed by a legion of demons. Jesus speaks and the demons leave the man and enter a herd of pigs who then rush over a cliff to their death.

The disciples weren’t the only witnesses. The people tending the pigs witnessed what had happened and at first they were in awe of Jesus power to restore this man to wholeness and wellness. And then they turn on Jesus because of the pigs. Perhaps they had flashes of what God renewing power would mean for their own lives and weren’t ready for such change. Perhaps they just weren’t capable of seeing anything in a new way. And so they rewrote the story so it sounded like Jesus was out to get the pigs and told Jesus to leave and never return.

They see Jesus for who they need him to be so that they don’t have to change who they are. They aren’t seeing Jesus as he is.

When the disciples are sailing through the storm, they get mad at Jesus because he is letting them do what they are good at. Jesus wan’t a fisherman, he had been trained as a carpenter. And so he trusts the fishermen enough to sleep while they navigate. But this trusting Jesus isn’t enough for them. They need to see him disturbed by the storm just as they are. they aren’t seeing Jesus for who he is but who they are comfortable with him being.

Jesus calms the storm but he doesn’t call any of us to be passive passengers in the boat. We all have something to contribute to the bringing about God’s Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. We have to trust, have faith in God to provide what we need to do what God calls us to do AND we have to believe in our own God given abilities, skills, talents, and treasure to participate with God as we travel across the lake.

When the disciples first got in the boat with Jesus they saw him as they thought they knew him. Perhaps they saw him as they wanted him to be. They saw him as he was to them at that point in time.

And then they saw him in a new way. They saw Jesus speak to the natural elements and to demons. And then they saw others not see Jesus as he is and I wonder if they, like I did, want to correct the Garasenes image of Jesus and yet used the situation to deepen their own view of Jesus?

Where in our own lives do we settle for seeing Jesus as we thought we knew him when we first encountered him?
Where in our own lives do we create God in our own image so that we don’t have to grow and change?
Where have we rewritten the story so we can maintain our comfort zone?

Where in our own lives has God shown us a new glimpse into who God is and who we are in relationship with God?
Where has Jesus calmed our storm so that we are open to letting our knowing of God be made new?

Jesus meets each of us where we are and we take him in our boat as he is. And as we follow Jesus we come to know who God is and who we are in God’s image, as God created us to be, participants in the Kingdom on earth as in heaven. Amen.

Onions and Parfaits

In the Good News story as Matthew tells it, we are told of a series of “woes” that parallel the blessings that we’ve been talking about. Jesus is in his final days in Jerusalem. The religious leaders are working hard to trap him so they can have him executed. They ask him questions so they can catch him teaching false things about God and Jesus responds with stories about how the people of God should live.

While teaching and speaking throughout Jerusalem, in earnest and knowing his time with them is short, Jesus turns to his disciples and warns them about using their leadership abilities for their own benefit rather than to lead people into a relationship with God. Jesus cautions his followers about letting others put them on a pedestal and says,


“Do you want to stand out? Then step down. Be a servant. If you puff yourself up, you’ll get the wind knocked out of you. but if you’re content to simply be yourself, your life will count for plenty.”

Matthew 23:11-12, The Message

This statement brings to light what Jesus means when he says, “blessed are the pure in heart” as most of us are familiar with this beatitude.

To be pure in heart is to know who we re at the core of our being, deep down below all of the layers we have developed over our life to protect ourselves. We all have these layers, whether you consider yourself like an onion or a parfait. When we do the hard work of first recognizing them and then peeling them back, we come to know ourselves as God knows us: the beloved child created and designed to love and be loved. This is the image of God in each of us.

And when we come to see it in ourselves, we see it in everyone else, too.

Jesus tells the religious leaders of his day that polishing the outside of their cup while letting the inside stay filthy is not how to lead or how God calls all of us to live. We have to do the inside work, so that our true motives are to do all that we do for the love of God and our neighbors.

The blessing comes when we do the inside work, with God’s help and the transformation of the Holy Spirit, because that is what enables us to see the world without all the layers we’ve put in place that blur our vision. To have a pure heart is to see the world with eyes of compassion as Jesus did.

With Care

In his description of the characteristics of Kingdom people that we’ve been looking at over the past few weeks, for me, the most challenging to talk about is mercy. What is mercy?

To be merciful implies that we’ve been wronged, or at least we judge that we have been wronged, and we are holding back from delivering what we judge the other to ‘owe’ us or what we judge they deserve. To be merciful, full of mercy, means I choose to set my judgement aside and to respond to the situation in love and compassion.

Pope Francis says that “mercy is the force that reawakens us to new life and instills in us the courage to look to the future with hope.”

Mercy offers hope: the confident hope that God’s love is greater than the worst thing any of us has ever done, the courageous hope that God’s love is stronger than my anger and my need for retaliation or revenge. When I choose to be merciful, God’s love grows stronger in me rather than the bitterness and pain that would grow if I choose anger. And the deeper I open myself up to God’s love, the more love I have to give and the more mercy I can show.

Eugene Peterson uses the word care in The Message: when we are full of care, we are cared for. When we choose mercy, kindness, compassion, love, when we take care to be like Jesus, we are not only caring for the other but for ourselves. Jesus cautions religious folks not to just put on the outward appearance of being good but to tend to the inside of their cup as well.

These descriptions of God’s Kingdom that Jesus gives aren’t for us to throw around like a weapon as a form of judgement on others’ behavior, but the vessels from which we are nourished in the goodness of God so that we are continually formed and transformed as God’s beloved. These are the instruments that equip us to live and love on earth as in heaven, Kingdom people to whom mercy has been given.

Seeds

A sermon preached at Grace Episcopal Church, San Antonio on the Third Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary readings are here):

Before we jump into today’s lesson, as a reminder, let me set the stage as to what Jesus and his disciples are up to:

After Jesus left the house in which we found him in last week’s reading, you remember, when his mother and siblings tried to get him to be quiet so folks wouldn’t think he was crazy, Jesus has continued to speak to the ever growing crowds telling stories of ordinary items and ordinary every day occurrences to teach about God’s kingdom. He tells of a farmer who sows seeds with abandon and all of the different types of soil on which the seeds can land.

And after speaking to the crowds, Jesus is alone with the disciples and he helps them understand what he’s just said before giving them another story of seeds and planting that we read today.

Jesus says the Kingdom of God is like a someone who scatters some seeds and these seeds grow because that’s what God created seeds to do. The miracle of life happens when the seeds do what seeds are made to do. Seems simple enough.

But I wonder if the disciples were looking a him with odd looks on their faces, as many of us do when we hear these stories. Can you picture it: Jesus is speaking and he realizes that they aren’t quite getting the point and so he stops and, thinking out-loud, he asks them:

“What is a good way to describe the Kingdom? What will help you understand?”

And they just keep staring at him.

So he tries again: The kingdom is like a small seed that grows into a great big tree that then provides food and shelter for others in the Kingdom. Because that’s what seeds are created for – to be planted so they can grow and produce not just food and shelter for other creatures but more seeds so more plants can grow.

This story of ordinary things and tasks of their ordinary days teaches us about the extra-ordinary abundance of God’s Kingdom.

Jesus lived in a culture where farming and fishing were the two main sources of income for most folks and so many of his stories were about planting seeds and catching fish. And if we, in our day and time, don’t know much about these activities its easy for us to just say “well that’s a good ancient story but it doesn’t mean much to me so there’s nothing I can learn from it. And besides, we know that the mustard seed isn’t the smallest of seeds and that the mustard plant isn’t the biggest so the story is incorrect, right? And Jesus didn’t even talk about how this little seed makes a yummy condiment that makes most everything taste better. That’s what mustard seeds are really for.”

The point of parables isn’t whether or not Jesus tells a “correct” story, one that matches our worldview but to enable us to see our ordinary as extra-ordinary. Jesus’ parables are intended to change our worldview so that we see from a Kingdom point of view.

Jesus wants very much for us to ‘get it’, to understand that living in God’s Kingdom isn’t about some day, somewhere else but today, here and now, for our every day activities in our every day life.

So, if Jesus were standing here today, asking “What is a good way to describe the Kingdom? What will help you understand?” What illustration would you suggest he use?

How about this:

The Kingdom is like someone who was having a picnic with their family and neighbors and after eating her hotdog with lots and lots of mustard, eats a big slice of watermelon and spits the seeds on the ground.

Some time later someone else is picnicking in the same spot and notices the vines that have sprouted from the ground and finds joy in the anticipation that this little watermelon vine will provide for others and tells the story of this simple yet joyful experience with family and friends.

And finally, someone else walks the same path and finds a fully ripe watermelon, picks it and shares it with family and friends. And one of those friends spits seeds on the ground and some time later the seeds sprout … you get the idea.

No one does anything to make the vines grow; the seeds just do what God designed seeds to do: make plants and more seeds so that the plants and fruit and seeds can continue in abundance. Seeds grow, regardless of our intent, or lack thereof, when we scatter them.

Jesus doesn’t give us a neat and tidy checklist or step by step instruction manual for The Kingdom. Jesus asks questions and gives us stories to equip us to work out the meaning and the answers.

Jesus tells stories not to keep us in the dark or keep secrets from us but to enable us to work out what this Kingdom life looks like for each of us, individually and collectively in 2021 hill country Texas.

“With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it?”

What does the Kingdom of God look like at our places of employment?
In our homes?
What does it look like when we are at HEB or driving down 1604? Or on I-10 and someone just cut us off speeding through the construction zone?
What does it look like to live as a citizen of God’s Kingdom then? What seeds do we scatter?

In all that we are and do, we scatter seeds of one kind or another. And the seeds we scatter grow.

Jesus asks questions about what is the Kingdom of God like and tells stories about seeds and planting so that we learn to ask ourselves and each other: What kind of seeds are we scattering: seeds that grow love and kindness and compassion or seeds that grow division and anger and hate?

Jesus invites us all to follow him and learn how to sow seeds of goodness, seeds that build up God’s Kingdom, seeds that grow more and more love and compassion in this world, seeds that make us a part of the prayer ‘Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

Amen.