Jul 16, 2023 |
Sunday Sermon
| Lauren DockerySunday Sermon
Living God of abundance whose name is Love, we, your people, pray your message of love and grace would root in our hearts so we can do your work and will in the world in the name of Jesus Christ, we pray Amen.
Something you may not know about me it's that in my many adventures in different kinds of church work, I was once an intern at the camp and retreat center in the Diocese of Hawaii called Camp Mokuleia. It is very much like Bellwether - they lead nature education programs for locals, offer hermitages for folks on personal retreats, host summer camps, and even have an organic farm that provides fresh produce to the kitchen. The only difference is that the ocean is less than 100 feet from the property. I worked closely with 3 other interns while I was there. We were responsible for running the programs and the summer camp sessions - but our biggest responsibility was the farm. We planted, tended, and harvested bananas, papaya, herbs, lettuce, squash, and tomatoes. I learned about tropical produce, soil pH, permaculture, and so much more. One of my favorite things was learning about compost. (I have horror stories about turning a compost pile and a roach crawling up my pant leg and getting rotten banana goo between my toes because I wore flip-flops to turn the compost.) I was always amazed that stinky rotten, decaying food scraps can mix with brittle, dried-out, lifeless plants to make good soil.
I still love composting so much that my New Year's Resolution this year was to create a compost pile so healthy that it does not freeze this winter. I check my pile every single day. I turn it at least three times a week. I'm obsessively careful about the balance of carbon – or brown dead things, to nitrogen- which is the green (usually rotting) things. I've recruited neighbors and friends to bring lawn clippings to my house when I need extra green and to bring drier lint and brown paper bags (which I have shredded by hand) when I need more brown. I'll let you know how it goes, but all of this is to say- that good soil has been a lot on my mind this year! So, I don't think it was a coincidence that I was assigned to preach today on the Sunday we hear not only the Parable of the Sower from the Gospel of Matthew but also this passage from Isaiah about God using the rhythms of nature to bring abundance and joy. I've got good soil on my mind!This parable is puzzling to me as a former farmer. This so-called sower or farmer is flinging seeds all willy-nilly in the parable. On a path, in the rocks, among the thorns, and finally, in the good soil where plants can eventually take root, sprout, grow strong, and flourish into an abundant harvest; so, why does the sower waste the seeds by flinging them in places where we know they can’t grow?
You’ll notice some verses in this chapter that we skip in the reading today. In this brief section left out of the lectionary, the disciples come to Jesus and ask him, “Why are you teaching these people in confusing parables?”
Jesus replies with a quote from the Book of Isaiah: “Isaiah’s prophecy is fulfilled today. These people can’t hear, and they can’t see, and they can’t understand. Their hearts have grown dull. And they won’t turn to me to be healed.” This quote comes from an early chapter of The Book of Isaiah, chapter 6 when the prophet is rebuking the People of Israel and Judah for betraying their covenant with God. The leaders are worshipping idols and refusing to support the vulnerable in their community – the orphans, the immigrants, and the widows.
By quoting this chapter from early Isaiah, Jesus compares the ancient kingdoms of Judah and Israel to the people in front of him some 800 years later. They are incapable of understanding, just like their ancestors.
Please follow me because I want to jump back into the parable. You’ll see that when the lectionary picks up again in the chapter, Jesus is (uncharacteristically) explaining the parable to the disciples. He says, “The people who hear the word and do not understand it have it snatched away by the evil one. The people who rejoice in the word but are still too caught up in the world as it is, are like the seeds planted on the rocks where they cannot take root and the message cannot come into their hearts and grow strong. People enamored by the trappings of the world hear the message, and it is choked out by the things they love.”
In the metaphor of the parable, these seeds are messages of good news and hope. And the 4 places where the seeds are planted - the path, the rocks, the thorns, and the good soil – are like states of mind or ways of living. They are environments that can be hostile or nurturing to the seeds of God’s work in our lives. So, what are we to do if we are not in the good soil state of mind when The Spirit moves, and a good word comes our way? We all have times when we are confused by Jesus and his message. Or when we are excited and inspired by a message on Sunday morning, but by Monday afternoon, we can’t quite remember what we felt and heard so clearly the day before. Sometimes we are in a place where the worries of this world so overcome us – our homework, our retirement funds, the political divisions of our government, our personal safety - that we can’t pay attention or even believe in a message of love from Jesus. So, again, what are we to do if we are not in a good soil state of mind?
This question brings me back to the Book of Isaiah. Not the chapter that Jesus quoted from the beginning of the Book of Isaiah, but the lesson we heard today that Julia/Laurie read from chapter 55. By chapter 55, the prophet Isaiah is finished rebuking the people for their evil actions, and he begins to imagine a glorious reconciliation when the people decide to repent. God says, through Isaiah, “The rain and snowfall from me, and they do not come back until the water has nurtured the seeds that the sower sowed. The waters make grain to make bread and feed the people. Anything I send out does not come back to me empty. … There will be joy and peace! Trees will clap mountains will sing. Thorns will become lovely trees, and briers will become myrtle.”
What a hopeful message of renewed life. It reminds me of a simple quote from Richard Rohr’s book of reflections on the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous called Breathing Underwater. Rohr says, “God never shows up without an invitation but always makes a way to be invited.” Implying that even the devastation of addiction can be God’s created invitation to someone dodging a spiritual path. And as troubling as it may be to think about the devastation of addiction as a gift, it is a prime example of how God works with whatever we give. Much like the rotting food scraps and dried-out lifeless plants that become rich nutrient soil, God takes what feels disgusting or abhorrent to us and uses it as an invitation to make something new. God’s love CHASES after us because God longs to gift us new life and a new ability to understand the good news of love and grace in the world. What God sends down will come back just as God intended.
So how do these two passages speak to each other? We know of Jesus’ knowledge and love of scripture, so I can’t imagine that he accidentally made up a parable that so closely resembled Isaiah 55 – where the sower plants seeds and thorns become fruitful. Jesus knows that he may be flinging parables into the ears of people who cannot understand his message, but he also knows that God will not stop moving until all of us are ready to live in the good soil state of mind. God’s power eventually breaks down rocks into minerals that will nourish the soil. God’s love dries out the thorns to balance the rotten thoughts to make good soil. God’s grace blows like the wind and pushes the good soil onto the path until it is covered and ready to nourish a seed.
Jesus knows that our state of mind can and WILL be changed. God is making good soil in you. When you’re ready, you, too will hear the message. Amen.
Something you may not know about me it's that in my many adventures in different kinds of church work, I was once an intern at the camp and retreat center in the Diocese of Hawaii called Camp Mokuleia. It is very much like Bellwether - they lead nature education programs for locals, offer hermitages for folks on personal retreats, host summer camps, and even have an organic farm that provides fresh produce to the kitchen. The only difference is that the ocean is less than 100 feet from the property. I worked closely with 3 other interns while I was there. We were responsible for running the programs and the summer camp sessions - but our biggest responsibility was the farm. We planted, tended, and harvested bananas, papaya, herbs, lettuce, squash, and tomatoes. I learned about tropical produce, soil pH, permaculture, and so much more. One of my favorite things was learning about compost. (I have horror stories about turning a compost pile and a roach crawling up my pant leg and getting rotten banana goo between my toes because I wore flip-flops to turn the compost.) I was always amazed that stinky rotten, decaying food scraps can mix with brittle, dried-out, lifeless plants to make good soil.
I still love composting so much that my New Year's Resolution this year was to create a compost pile so healthy that it does not freeze this winter. I check my pile every single day. I turn it at least three times a week. I'm obsessively careful about the balance of carbon – or brown dead things, to nitrogen- which is the green (usually rotting) things. I've recruited neighbors and friends to bring lawn clippings to my house when I need extra green and to bring drier lint and brown paper bags (which I have shredded by hand) when I need more brown. I'll let you know how it goes, but all of this is to say- that good soil has been a lot on my mind this year! So, I don't think it was a coincidence that I was assigned to preach today on the Sunday we hear not only the Parable of the Sower from the Gospel of Matthew but also this passage from Isaiah about God using the rhythms of nature to bring abundance and joy. I've got good soil on my mind!This parable is puzzling to me as a former farmer. This so-called sower or farmer is flinging seeds all willy-nilly in the parable. On a path, in the rocks, among the thorns, and finally, in the good soil where plants can eventually take root, sprout, grow strong, and flourish into an abundant harvest; so, why does the sower waste the seeds by flinging them in places where we know they can’t grow?
You’ll notice some verses in this chapter that we skip in the reading today. In this brief section left out of the lectionary, the disciples come to Jesus and ask him, “Why are you teaching these people in confusing parables?”
Jesus replies with a quote from the Book of Isaiah: “Isaiah’s prophecy is fulfilled today. These people can’t hear, and they can’t see, and they can’t understand. Their hearts have grown dull. And they won’t turn to me to be healed.” This quote comes from an early chapter of The Book of Isaiah, chapter 6 when the prophet is rebuking the People of Israel and Judah for betraying their covenant with God. The leaders are worshipping idols and refusing to support the vulnerable in their community – the orphans, the immigrants, and the widows.
By quoting this chapter from early Isaiah, Jesus compares the ancient kingdoms of Judah and Israel to the people in front of him some 800 years later. They are incapable of understanding, just like their ancestors.
Please follow me because I want to jump back into the parable. You’ll see that when the lectionary picks up again in the chapter, Jesus is (uncharacteristically) explaining the parable to the disciples. He says, “The people who hear the word and do not understand it have it snatched away by the evil one. The people who rejoice in the word but are still too caught up in the world as it is, are like the seeds planted on the rocks where they cannot take root and the message cannot come into their hearts and grow strong. People enamored by the trappings of the world hear the message, and it is choked out by the things they love.”
In the metaphor of the parable, these seeds are messages of good news and hope. And the 4 places where the seeds are planted - the path, the rocks, the thorns, and the good soil – are like states of mind or ways of living. They are environments that can be hostile or nurturing to the seeds of God’s work in our lives. So, what are we to do if we are not in the good soil state of mind when The Spirit moves, and a good word comes our way? We all have times when we are confused by Jesus and his message. Or when we are excited and inspired by a message on Sunday morning, but by Monday afternoon, we can’t quite remember what we felt and heard so clearly the day before. Sometimes we are in a place where the worries of this world so overcome us – our homework, our retirement funds, the political divisions of our government, our personal safety - that we can’t pay attention or even believe in a message of love from Jesus. So, again, what are we to do if we are not in a good soil state of mind?
This question brings me back to the Book of Isaiah. Not the chapter that Jesus quoted from the beginning of the Book of Isaiah, but the lesson we heard today that Julia/Laurie read from chapter 55. By chapter 55, the prophet Isaiah is finished rebuking the people for their evil actions, and he begins to imagine a glorious reconciliation when the people decide to repent. God says, through Isaiah, “The rain and snowfall from me, and they do not come back until the water has nurtured the seeds that the sower sowed. The waters make grain to make bread and feed the people. Anything I send out does not come back to me empty. … There will be joy and peace! Trees will clap mountains will sing. Thorns will become lovely trees, and briers will become myrtle.”
What a hopeful message of renewed life. It reminds me of a simple quote from Richard Rohr’s book of reflections on the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous called Breathing Underwater. Rohr says, “God never shows up without an invitation but always makes a way to be invited.” Implying that even the devastation of addiction can be God’s created invitation to someone dodging a spiritual path. And as troubling as it may be to think about the devastation of addiction as a gift, it is a prime example of how God works with whatever we give. Much like the rotting food scraps and dried-out lifeless plants that become rich nutrient soil, God takes what feels disgusting or abhorrent to us and uses it as an invitation to make something new. God’s love CHASES after us because God longs to gift us new life and a new ability to understand the good news of love and grace in the world. What God sends down will come back just as God intended.
So how do these two passages speak to each other? We know of Jesus’ knowledge and love of scripture, so I can’t imagine that he accidentally made up a parable that so closely resembled Isaiah 55 – where the sower plants seeds and thorns become fruitful. Jesus knows that he may be flinging parables into the ears of people who cannot understand his message, but he also knows that God will not stop moving until all of us are ready to live in the good soil state of mind. God’s power eventually breaks down rocks into minerals that will nourish the soil. God’s love dries out the thorns to balance the rotten thoughts to make good soil. God’s grace blows like the wind and pushes the good soil onto the path until it is covered and ready to nourish a seed.
Jesus knows that our state of mind can and WILL be changed. God is making good soil in you. When you’re ready, you, too will hear the message. Amen.
Jul 09, 2023 |
Sunday Sermon
| The Rev. Jeanne LeinbachSunday Sermon
Let’s go back for a moment to the day we commemorate as Palm Sunday. The last week of Jesus’ life was the week of Passover, a sacred week for the Jewish people when they celebrate their liberation by God from slavery in Egypt. In Jesus’ day, the Roman governors would come to Jerusalem for the major Jewish festivals to instill order. On that first Palm Sunday, Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a colt. The crowds gathered and they paved the road with palm branches and they praised God shouting, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” But, while Jesus was riding into Jerusalem from the east on a donkey, Pilate was riding into Jerusalem from the west on a war horse. Banners, drums, armor and weapons flanked Pilate and his soldiers. Pilate’s procession proclaimed imperial power and violence. Jesus’ procession proclaimed peace, the kingdom of God. Just picture the one entrance against the other. How clearer can the message be? With a peaceful certainty, Jesus is standing up to the power of the Roman empire with a message that turns their whole understanding of life upside down: man’s power and might and glory will always fall short of the peace of God.
Listen once again to what we heard from Zechariah this morning. “Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war horse from Jerusalem; and the battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall command peace to the nations.” Zechariah prophesied Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem: man’s power and might and glory juxtaposed with God’s peace.
Scripture describes God’s peace in these well-known, soothing words from this morning’s Gospel: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Most of Jesus’ listeners were farmers, or were well acquainted with farming, so time and again Jesus used farming language to explain the Gospel message, to describe God’s love. A yoke is the wooden beam across the shoulders of oxen, which distributes weight evenly to make it easier for the oxen to carry or pull heavy objects. Jesus says, “My yoke is easy.” A yoke-that is easy is well fitting. What is well-fitting for Jesus? God’s love. Jesus invites us in to God’s love. “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke – take God’s love - upon you and you will find rest for your souls.”
Jesus seems most present to us in times of need. I know this is my experience – perhaps it is for you, also. Indeed, the consistent message of the Gospel is about caring for those in need. You might recall the story of Jesus in the synagogue in Nazareth, when he unrolls the scroll and reads, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, [and] to let the oppressed go free.” Jesus came so we would come to know this peace, so we would experience this peace, which emanates from God’s love. He came to give us the peace, which will sustain us through all of life’s challenges. We might be sad, disappointed, uncertain, weary. Jesus is saying, “Turn to me. I am the peace which comforts. “Take my yoke upon you and you will find rest for your souls.” Jesus’ message goes further. Too many of us are powerless, marginalized, hungry, thirsty. God’s peace, which sustains us, also gives us the strength to care for others in need, to provide justice and righteousness for all.
I so enjoyed being at John Kennedy’s wedding a little over a week ago. John and Emma were beaming. The wedding was beautiful; they put so much thought into planning the service. John and Emma share a love for Thomas Merton, the great theologian and mystic. On the back of the service bulletin was an excerpt from the book Love and Living, a collection of Merton’s essays and meditations. Though on the back of a wedding bulletin, this meditation on love is about more than romantic love. It is about agape love, transcendent love, which unleashes the fullness of life. Merton writes, “Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone—we find it with one another. We do not discover the secret of our lives merely by study and calculation in our own isolated meditations. The meaning of our life is a secret that has to be revealed to us in love, by the ones we love. And if this love is unreal, the secret will not be found, the meaning will never reveal itself, the message will never be decoded.... We will never be fully real until we let ourselves fall in love—either with another human person or with God. Love is the revelation of our deepest personal meaning, value, and identity. But this revelation remains impossible as long as we are the prisoner of our own egoism. I cannot find myself in myself, but only in another. My true meaning and worth are shown to me not in my estimate of myself, but in the eyes of the ones who love me.”
Let us fall in love with God. God’s transcendent love will draw us to one another. We become most fully ourselves through loving others. We are-created to love, to want the best for one another, to want others to be their fullest selves. William Goettler, at Yale Divinity School, writes, “The saving word of the Gospel is best understood when it is located in the midst of the experience of the powerless and the disenfranchised” (Feasting on the Word, Year A, Volume 3, p. 214). Jesus told us and showed us over and over again: heal the sick, feed the hungry, deliver the oppressed. Let us turn to Jesus. Let us take up his yoke, find rest for our souls, and so find the strength to strive for justice and peace among all people. Amen.
Jul 02, 2023 |
Words of Sending, Words of Welcome
| The Rev. Jessie Gutgsell DodsonWords of Sending, Words of Welcome
It’s hard to believe this is the last time I’ll preach to
you as one of your parish priests. As many of you have reflected back to me
over these past few weeks, we knew this day would come when I’d leave, but it’s
still such a hard, bittersweet thing. As my tears have evidenced over the past
few Sundays, I’ve loved you with my whole self over these past five years. The
decision to leave was difficult, and yet I feel a deep sense of call to my new
role on the Bishop’s staff as Canon to the Ordinary.
I was grateful to find a partner in reflection this week when I turned to the words of Jesus in our Gospel from Matthew today. This is the third week in row that we’ve been reading from the 10th chapter of Matthew in what’s known as the “Missionary Discourse.” This chapter includes Jesus’s sending words to his disciples before they go out to pursue their ministries and missions.
So, I thought, what better way to honor the end of this pastoral relationship than to refer to Jesus’s own words of sending? If we review the Missionary Discourse, we can see that Jesus was creating what some have called a kind of “Christian handbook.” He called together his disciples and gave them authority to do the ministry ahead of them: to cast out unclean spirits and cure diseases. He told them, wherever you go, tell the good news (10:7), reminding people that the Kingdom of heaven has come near. He told them to seek out welcome, and if they found a place where they weren’t welcome, to “shake the dust of their feet” and go on to the next (10:14). “Be wise as serpents, and innocent as doves” (10:16), he told them. He made sure they knew that things would get difficult – that relationships would suffer, and they may face danger, but that it would all be worth it in the end. Your reward will be great, he told them.
Then we get to the reading for today, which is the end of his words of sending. Here, Jesus chooses his final words to share with his disciples before they begin their mission work…and what are they? They are words of welcome:
Sitting down with someone, sharing the stories of our faith and life, welcoming them into this vibrant community, helping them find their place here in their new spiritual home. It’s been a profound privilege to be a face of welcome into a church as wonderful as this one.
So, I’m struck that Jesus emphasizes such welcome as the last bits of wisdom he shares. Now of course welcome looked different in the 1st century Middle East. Practices of hospitality vary widely by culture and place. But Jesus reminds us that, no matter what context we exit or enter, welcome is the first and last thing… Prompting us to reflect on how we welcome, and how ourselves are welcomed, because Jesus ultimately reminds us that whenever we welcome each other, we welcome Jesus.
The past few weeks have been full of reflection on what it has been like and what it’s meant to live in Christian community at St. Paul’s for these past five years. I’ve reflected on the big things: like the unmatched glory of Christmas at St. Paul’s. I remember my first Christmas Eve here when the donkey decided that the moment of his big entrance into the Nave was the exact moment he needed to go the bathroom. There I saw in the back of the sanctuary, a crowd of huddled ushers and parents, scooping up donkey poop as we sang Oh Little Town of Bethlehem.
Or I reflected on the first Sunday after we closed the building for the covid lockdown. Jeanne and I sat here on these steps and recorded a video for you all in an empty sanctuary. I remember the fear, the adrenaline, and how completely unreal it all felt.
Then there were the amazing, transition-marking moments too. The many, many funerals officiated – the lives of beloved saints celebrated and laid to rest. The baptisms administered – like the one where the baby slapped me in the face as I doused her head with holy water. And the weddings too – especially the incredible opportunity to officiate the wedding of our own rector Jeanne to her husband Gary.
This building – this community – has held five years chockful of love, loss, and relationships. It was in this building, right after staff meeting, that my water broke as I went into labor with our second son. Here, where dreams of ministry grew, relationships were planted, and lives changed. Big moments, all of these.
But what strikes me as I reflect on Jesus’s parting words to his disciples is that he focuses not on the big moments. Instead, it’s the small gestures that matter: the cup of water that’s offered to one of “the little ones,” as he calls the disciples in our reading today.
“Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple-- truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward,” he says (10:42).
This is the very last thing Jesus says to his disciples before sending them out to do the “work God gave them to do” in the world. Not a charge to do great, life, or culture-changing things. But a reminder – a last word – to take care with their small gestures of kindness and welcome. Be kind to one another, young and old alike, swift to love. Offer even the smallest gesture of hospitality to one another: a cup of water to someone who needs it.
I take comfort in this reminder from Jesus, not only as I reflect on the past, but as I look forward to what’s next for each of us. As we set out on our separate paths of ministry, we remember the parting words of Jesus: we begin and we end with welcome. Welcoming each other into community. Allowing ourselves to be welcomed. Offering kindness to one another, those who fit in and those who don’t, those who are young and those who are old, those who are like us and those who are different.
So, as we part ways, I thank you for the welcome you gave me, and Joe, and Abe and Bax. And I pray that you will continue to welcome people into the gift of this spiritual community: showing kindness. Offering hospitality, sometimes in grand fashion, and sometimes in small gestures, like a cup of water.
For by doing this – by welcoming each other – we welcome Jesus himself. And we know – because we have already experienced a glimpse of it together – that our reward will be great. Amen.
I was grateful to find a partner in reflection this week when I turned to the words of Jesus in our Gospel from Matthew today. This is the third week in row that we’ve been reading from the 10th chapter of Matthew in what’s known as the “Missionary Discourse.” This chapter includes Jesus’s sending words to his disciples before they go out to pursue their ministries and missions.
So, I thought, what better way to honor the end of this pastoral relationship than to refer to Jesus’s own words of sending? If we review the Missionary Discourse, we can see that Jesus was creating what some have called a kind of “Christian handbook.” He called together his disciples and gave them authority to do the ministry ahead of them: to cast out unclean spirits and cure diseases. He told them, wherever you go, tell the good news (10:7), reminding people that the Kingdom of heaven has come near. He told them to seek out welcome, and if they found a place where they weren’t welcome, to “shake the dust of their feet” and go on to the next (10:14). “Be wise as serpents, and innocent as doves” (10:16), he told them. He made sure they knew that things would get difficult – that relationships would suffer, and they may face danger, but that it would all be worth it in the end. Your reward will be great, he told them.
Then we get to the reading for today, which is the end of his words of sending. Here, Jesus chooses his final words to share with his disciples before they begin their mission work…and what are they? They are words of welcome:
“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.”In our three-verse reading, Jesus says the word “welcome” 6 times. Welcome, welcome, welcome. As some of you know, one of the main ministry focuses for me these past five years has been on welcoming and incorporating newcomers. As I look at you, I see the faces of the many people who’ve joined this community in recent years. I didn’t really know it when I got here, but that ministry of welcome became the core of my work here. In the conclusion of his discourse, Jesus speaks of the rewards of this kind of ministry. As I’ve shared with some of you, especially some of you who’ve shared in this ministry with me, welcoming newcomers has been an incredibly rewarding part of my work and life.
Sitting down with someone, sharing the stories of our faith and life, welcoming them into this vibrant community, helping them find their place here in their new spiritual home. It’s been a profound privilege to be a face of welcome into a church as wonderful as this one.
So, I’m struck that Jesus emphasizes such welcome as the last bits of wisdom he shares. Now of course welcome looked different in the 1st century Middle East. Practices of hospitality vary widely by culture and place. But Jesus reminds us that, no matter what context we exit or enter, welcome is the first and last thing… Prompting us to reflect on how we welcome, and how ourselves are welcomed, because Jesus ultimately reminds us that whenever we welcome each other, we welcome Jesus.
The past few weeks have been full of reflection on what it has been like and what it’s meant to live in Christian community at St. Paul’s for these past five years. I’ve reflected on the big things: like the unmatched glory of Christmas at St. Paul’s. I remember my first Christmas Eve here when the donkey decided that the moment of his big entrance into the Nave was the exact moment he needed to go the bathroom. There I saw in the back of the sanctuary, a crowd of huddled ushers and parents, scooping up donkey poop as we sang Oh Little Town of Bethlehem.
Or I reflected on the first Sunday after we closed the building for the covid lockdown. Jeanne and I sat here on these steps and recorded a video for you all in an empty sanctuary. I remember the fear, the adrenaline, and how completely unreal it all felt.
Then there were the amazing, transition-marking moments too. The many, many funerals officiated – the lives of beloved saints celebrated and laid to rest. The baptisms administered – like the one where the baby slapped me in the face as I doused her head with holy water. And the weddings too – especially the incredible opportunity to officiate the wedding of our own rector Jeanne to her husband Gary.
This building – this community – has held five years chockful of love, loss, and relationships. It was in this building, right after staff meeting, that my water broke as I went into labor with our second son. Here, where dreams of ministry grew, relationships were planted, and lives changed. Big moments, all of these.
But what strikes me as I reflect on Jesus’s parting words to his disciples is that he focuses not on the big moments. Instead, it’s the small gestures that matter: the cup of water that’s offered to one of “the little ones,” as he calls the disciples in our reading today.
“Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple-- truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward,” he says (10:42).
This is the very last thing Jesus says to his disciples before sending them out to do the “work God gave them to do” in the world. Not a charge to do great, life, or culture-changing things. But a reminder – a last word – to take care with their small gestures of kindness and welcome. Be kind to one another, young and old alike, swift to love. Offer even the smallest gesture of hospitality to one another: a cup of water to someone who needs it.
I take comfort in this reminder from Jesus, not only as I reflect on the past, but as I look forward to what’s next for each of us. As we set out on our separate paths of ministry, we remember the parting words of Jesus: we begin and we end with welcome. Welcoming each other into community. Allowing ourselves to be welcomed. Offering kindness to one another, those who fit in and those who don’t, those who are young and those who are old, those who are like us and those who are different.
So, as we part ways, I thank you for the welcome you gave me, and Joe, and Abe and Bax. And I pray that you will continue to welcome people into the gift of this spiritual community: showing kindness. Offering hospitality, sometimes in grand fashion, and sometimes in small gestures, like a cup of water.
For by doing this – by welcoming each other – we welcome Jesus himself. And we know – because we have already experienced a glimpse of it together – that our reward will be great. Amen.
Jun 25, 2023 |
Sunday Sermon
| The Rev. Jeanne LeinbachSunday Sermon
“Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose
their life for my sake will find it.” It is so hard to let go, isn’t it? We are
adept at controlling our lives. We love the security of being in control, of
having the dominion to achieve our wants and desires. Now, Scripture this
morning is telling us to lose our life in order to find it. All that control
that we hold so dear…we are being encouraged to let go. To let go, so we can
trust the path that leads to the fullest life. Let’s look at a few examples to
help us understand control and what it feels like to let go.
I’m going to start with an amusing story about myself – always good to be able to laugh at our own foibles. For more than 40 years, pregnant women have relied on the book What to Expect When You’re Expecting, which provides both explanation and comfort around the many facets of pregnancy. I still remember words of advice from this book. I remember reading about the importance of letting others help after the baby is born, because, of course, so much time and effort is-needed to take care of a new, precious life. Specifically, one suggestion the book makes is letting others load the dishwasher after a meal AND, most importantly, letting them load the dishwasher the way they choose to load it! Perhaps, some of you are like me….I do have a certain way of loading the dishwasher – in my mind it is logical and efficient. I’m guessing my husband, Gary, is smiling as I tell this story because perhaps he has seen me move around a few dishes after he has loaded the dishwasher. I really did try to let go in those days following the births of my sons, but, old habits are hard to break. I know I need to learn to trust that those dishes will get cleaned just fine however the dishwasher is loaded.
Another example around control that comes to mind is a great episode from the tv show Frasier. I still watch the reruns of this comedy – a great way for me to relax in the evening before I go to bed. For those of you who are not familiar, Frasier is about a psychiatrist, named Frasier, who has a radio show where people call in for advice. Frasier has a brother, Niles, who is a psychiatrist, also, but has a private practice. In this particular episode entitled “Shrink Rap”, Frasier is feeling a desire to going back to seeing patients, and so Frasier and Niles decide to go into private practice together. But, their sibling rivalry, which is quite comical, is so intense that the partnership is a disaster. So, they decide to see a couple’s therapist. The therapy does not go well. So, the therapist decides to try an activity to develop trust. One brother is to stand in front of the other and then fall backwards into his brother’s arms…a tangible example of letting go and trusting. Niles goes first, but he can’t bring himself to fall backwards. Then, Frasier tries, but he can’t bring himself to fall backwards, either. The therapist steps up to demonstrate, hoping he can convince them that they can do it. But, when the therapist falls backwards, Nile and Frasier are so busy glaring at each other in anger, neither of them catch the therapist and, so, he falls to the floor. Ah, but imagine, trusting…letting go…falling back, and being-embraced by loving arms.
I’d like to offer one more example, a timely example. When I arrived at St. Paul’s in the fall of 2015, we had an open Assistant Rector position. In December, I received a resume from a seminarian who would be graduating in May of 2016. That seminarian was Jessie Dodson. I interviewed her when she was in the area over her Christmas break and I thought, huh, I may have just hit the jackpot. I brought her back for a day of interviews with the Search Committee, Vestry and Staff, we heard her preach, and the decision was unanimous – I was delighted to make the call and offer her the position. But, she turned me down. WOW. I was SO disappointed. How to let go? How to let go when you think you have just the right candidate? Well, what happened? The Rev. Dale Grandfield happened. Dale interviewed for the position and joined us in May of that year. We enjoyed three years with Dale. And, in 2018, when the Rev. Rich Israel was retiring, Jessie was once again, looking for a position, and on the second round, we got her and have benefitted from and enjoyed her ministry with us for five years. It’s hard to say good-bye to Jessie. No one will replace her. But, someone new will come along. We will benefit from a new relationship, while being ever grateful for the time we had with Jessie.
Do these examples give some insight into the various ways we control life? Do they help us feel, to experience that letting go – allowing others to help, allowing others to lead, allowing a new path forward? We love the security of being in control, of having the dominion to achieve our wants and desires. We love the security of charting our own path, of controlling our lives to achieve our own measure of importance, or our own measure of success. But what do we lose in tightly controlling our lives?
We lose the ability to let God lead. God is-all-knowing. God knows beyond our wishes and desires. God knows beyond the limits of our sight. When we let go, and let God lead, we see new ways to love, new perspectives, new opportunities, new ways to appreciate life and one another. When we let go, we experience life in its fullness: the immensity, the complexity, the inclusivity, the possibility, the rightness. Christ came to show us this path forward. “Those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” We are-meant to let go, to be dependent on God – that is how we are-created. As a celebrated preacher writes, “God’s all-encompassing claim on our lives becomes our comfort” (Lance Pape, Feasting on the Word , Year A, Volume 3, p. 169). Let us let go and know that peace which surpasses all understanding. Amen.
I’m going to start with an amusing story about myself – always good to be able to laugh at our own foibles. For more than 40 years, pregnant women have relied on the book What to Expect When You’re Expecting, which provides both explanation and comfort around the many facets of pregnancy. I still remember words of advice from this book. I remember reading about the importance of letting others help after the baby is born, because, of course, so much time and effort is-needed to take care of a new, precious life. Specifically, one suggestion the book makes is letting others load the dishwasher after a meal AND, most importantly, letting them load the dishwasher the way they choose to load it! Perhaps, some of you are like me….I do have a certain way of loading the dishwasher – in my mind it is logical and efficient. I’m guessing my husband, Gary, is smiling as I tell this story because perhaps he has seen me move around a few dishes after he has loaded the dishwasher. I really did try to let go in those days following the births of my sons, but, old habits are hard to break. I know I need to learn to trust that those dishes will get cleaned just fine however the dishwasher is loaded.
Another example around control that comes to mind is a great episode from the tv show Frasier. I still watch the reruns of this comedy – a great way for me to relax in the evening before I go to bed. For those of you who are not familiar, Frasier is about a psychiatrist, named Frasier, who has a radio show where people call in for advice. Frasier has a brother, Niles, who is a psychiatrist, also, but has a private practice. In this particular episode entitled “Shrink Rap”, Frasier is feeling a desire to going back to seeing patients, and so Frasier and Niles decide to go into private practice together. But, their sibling rivalry, which is quite comical, is so intense that the partnership is a disaster. So, they decide to see a couple’s therapist. The therapy does not go well. So, the therapist decides to try an activity to develop trust. One brother is to stand in front of the other and then fall backwards into his brother’s arms…a tangible example of letting go and trusting. Niles goes first, but he can’t bring himself to fall backwards. Then, Frasier tries, but he can’t bring himself to fall backwards, either. The therapist steps up to demonstrate, hoping he can convince them that they can do it. But, when the therapist falls backwards, Nile and Frasier are so busy glaring at each other in anger, neither of them catch the therapist and, so, he falls to the floor. Ah, but imagine, trusting…letting go…falling back, and being-embraced by loving arms.
I’d like to offer one more example, a timely example. When I arrived at St. Paul’s in the fall of 2015, we had an open Assistant Rector position. In December, I received a resume from a seminarian who would be graduating in May of 2016. That seminarian was Jessie Dodson. I interviewed her when she was in the area over her Christmas break and I thought, huh, I may have just hit the jackpot. I brought her back for a day of interviews with the Search Committee, Vestry and Staff, we heard her preach, and the decision was unanimous – I was delighted to make the call and offer her the position. But, she turned me down. WOW. I was SO disappointed. How to let go? How to let go when you think you have just the right candidate? Well, what happened? The Rev. Dale Grandfield happened. Dale interviewed for the position and joined us in May of that year. We enjoyed three years with Dale. And, in 2018, when the Rev. Rich Israel was retiring, Jessie was once again, looking for a position, and on the second round, we got her and have benefitted from and enjoyed her ministry with us for five years. It’s hard to say good-bye to Jessie. No one will replace her. But, someone new will come along. We will benefit from a new relationship, while being ever grateful for the time we had with Jessie.
Do these examples give some insight into the various ways we control life? Do they help us feel, to experience that letting go – allowing others to help, allowing others to lead, allowing a new path forward? We love the security of being in control, of having the dominion to achieve our wants and desires. We love the security of charting our own path, of controlling our lives to achieve our own measure of importance, or our own measure of success. But what do we lose in tightly controlling our lives?
We lose the ability to let God lead. God is-all-knowing. God knows beyond our wishes and desires. God knows beyond the limits of our sight. When we let go, and let God lead, we see new ways to love, new perspectives, new opportunities, new ways to appreciate life and one another. When we let go, we experience life in its fullness: the immensity, the complexity, the inclusivity, the possibility, the rightness. Christ came to show us this path forward. “Those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” We are-meant to let go, to be dependent on God – that is how we are-created. As a celebrated preacher writes, “God’s all-encompassing claim on our lives becomes our comfort” (Lance Pape, Feasting on the Word , Year A, Volume 3, p. 169). Let us let go and know that peace which surpasses all understanding. Amen.
Jun 18, 2023 |
Sunday Sermon
| The Rev. Nancy HildebrandSunday Sermon
Good morning! Today, we have the honor of recognizing two wonderful occasions: Father’s Day and Juneteenth, which are two unlikely occasions that in their own way represent the possibilities in human relationships. Is it possible to link these two powerful tributes today? In a reflection honoring my father, I realized that the way he raised his daughters by opening the door to the fullness of the world and encouraging us to step across the threshold into what appeared to be empty space was a matter of faith and love and a sign that we would be entering into an accepting society. My prayer for Juneteenth tomorrow is that all African American children will have Fathers confident of opening that door for their children. This hope for the future of children is creational.
I refer you to Genesis1:26, which is the first Creation story. God says: “Then let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness….and in the summing verse, “So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God, he created them, male and female he created them. Notice, God says, “let us” and “our likeness” when referring to God’s self. Notice that God “created them, “male and female.” Women are made in God’s image. Adam and Eve are equal in the “our-ness of God.” Fathers and mothers, like Adam and Eve, are each made in God’s image. There is no mention of the color of the male and female, nor the type of hair, eye color…just the word humankind, which reflects God’s wonderful plan of diversity among all living things. There’s no mention of defined roles by sex, color, sexuality…just the powerful description of “our” …we are all in this together. Parenting has changed along with many other things. I give thanks for the equality of sex and parenting roles today, even as I know more progress is required.
Old fashioned Dads gave a lot to us kids. I celebrate my dad in a hundred ways, but, most importantly, I love the way, my dad navigated the burgeoning feminist movement, applied those lessons to his relationship with his wife and daughters. He challenged my mom to go to college when I was in high school, and he employed feminism to his daughters in every phase of their development. My dad had a way of opening a door to our futures while pointing to the figuratively big empty space on the other side while saying, “Go on, you can do it, cross over.” He didn’t tell us what to do or how to do it, but just “go forth into the world in joy and in seeing that of God in every person.” I wish every child had a dad do that for them. I wish that the world was more accepting of every child going through that door as I experienced as a young white woman, despite the archaic challenges we face.
My Mom made me a fighter without pugnaciousness. I wasn’t sure what that meant or how that might be used. My dad saw me as accomplished and spiritual. I always thought he and she over-rated me by a long shot. However, it wasn’t long after I crossed the threshold that I understood where my parents’ appraisal and reality began. The blessing of being over-rated is that you have a benchmark for life that becomes not a specific goal, but a way of life. I pray for all children to have Dads who over-rate them and who will have the faith that when they open the door to adulthood, a society will exist who will welcome them all. I pray that all children have a future of their deepest desire and a passion to unite that quest to the “One” to the “our” who created us and abides with us. Lord, let all children have wonderful Dads and a just society where their lives can be fulfilled.
The Genesis creation story is equally applied to the American family. We Americans are a household which is a place of dreams fulfilled and broken. The tragic favoritism of whites over African Americans is still playing the story over again in masked and unmasked forms. Our American family is still very much a dysfunctional family with many tragedies which demand all our efforts to sort out, correct, and heal. I look forward to the day when all Americans are singing America the Beautiful with the gratitude and soulfulness that the largely gay audience sang when the Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage. Juneteenth is a day for the moment to celebrate the great political achievements of the Emancipation Proclamation, The passing of the 13th Amendment, the achievements of the Civil Rights movement and the progress of integration since then. However, we are reminded daily and painfully that the job is not done. The genius of the Civil Rights Movement was to invite white as allies in the cause. It replicated in human terms the fullness of God, God’s name, “our.” It is time now for whites to ask our black sisters and brothers with humility, with courage, and with eagerness, what is needed of us now, teach us what to do. Help us, Lord, to listen without defensiveness, argumentativeness, and, most importantly, with love.
The number of police killings since 2014 of African Americans added up, aroused fear and anger to new levels, and actually frightened many whites as well. We liberal whites who can face the truth are aghast, but we cannot seem to move. We are frozen like deer in the headlights. We cannot forget the names of those killed by the police and vigilantes because it smacks of the Jim Crow era. We cannot go backward. Let us pray for the fathers of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice here in Cleveland, Eric Harris, Walter Scott, Freddie Gray, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, Stephon Clark, Botham Jean, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Daunte Wright, and Patrick Lyoya. We are nowhere near the fulfillment of our dreams for a just society for all people. The creation of the world and all the wonders of life, especially with “humankind” and all the animals of the earth, tells us that God’s desire is for a wondrous world filled with a wide variety of beings. Even in the story of the Great Flood and Noah’s Ark, God commanded that representatives of all living things be brought into the Ark so that diversity would be preserved. God’s plan seems to be unity within diversity, with even God self- referring as “Our.” So, we whites need to stop resting in the achievements of the past decades and turn lovingly to our black sisters and brothers and earnestly apologize for our complacency and complicity. We can hope for forgiving for the sins of the generations of the past to the present, but we cannot hope or ask for forgetting. This can only be asked if we do the work to turn towards our black sisters and brothers and ask them what is required of us.
How can we turn this around?
This is the time to say that the Church must take a leading role in helping us to move forward. I highly recommend our Church’s report on repairing the racial breach in church and in the larger society. It is “Realizing Beloved Community, a Report from the House of Bishops Theology Committee.” The report emphatically states that understanding the roots and tentacles of white supremacy is essential for racial progress to occur. Elements of that process includes remorse and confession for the active and substantial role played by Christianity, the Anglican Communion, and The Episcopal Church in constructing, maintaining, defending, and profiting from this monstrous sin and scandal of racism. The report lays out a formal process to address this most pressing of issues. Our church is committing and so should we all. Fathers and Mothers unite in the “our-ness of our God” and lead our children to a new future so all may step through an open door into a society which has open arms. Amen.
I refer you to Genesis1:26, which is the first Creation story. God says: “Then let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness….and in the summing verse, “So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God, he created them, male and female he created them. Notice, God says, “let us” and “our likeness” when referring to God’s self. Notice that God “created them, “male and female.” Women are made in God’s image. Adam and Eve are equal in the “our-ness of God.” Fathers and mothers, like Adam and Eve, are each made in God’s image. There is no mention of the color of the male and female, nor the type of hair, eye color…just the word humankind, which reflects God’s wonderful plan of diversity among all living things. There’s no mention of defined roles by sex, color, sexuality…just the powerful description of “our” …we are all in this together. Parenting has changed along with many other things. I give thanks for the equality of sex and parenting roles today, even as I know more progress is required.
Old fashioned Dads gave a lot to us kids. I celebrate my dad in a hundred ways, but, most importantly, I love the way, my dad navigated the burgeoning feminist movement, applied those lessons to his relationship with his wife and daughters. He challenged my mom to go to college when I was in high school, and he employed feminism to his daughters in every phase of their development. My dad had a way of opening a door to our futures while pointing to the figuratively big empty space on the other side while saying, “Go on, you can do it, cross over.” He didn’t tell us what to do or how to do it, but just “go forth into the world in joy and in seeing that of God in every person.” I wish every child had a dad do that for them. I wish that the world was more accepting of every child going through that door as I experienced as a young white woman, despite the archaic challenges we face.
My Mom made me a fighter without pugnaciousness. I wasn’t sure what that meant or how that might be used. My dad saw me as accomplished and spiritual. I always thought he and she over-rated me by a long shot. However, it wasn’t long after I crossed the threshold that I understood where my parents’ appraisal and reality began. The blessing of being over-rated is that you have a benchmark for life that becomes not a specific goal, but a way of life. I pray for all children to have Dads who over-rate them and who will have the faith that when they open the door to adulthood, a society will exist who will welcome them all. I pray that all children have a future of their deepest desire and a passion to unite that quest to the “One” to the “our” who created us and abides with us. Lord, let all children have wonderful Dads and a just society where their lives can be fulfilled.
The Genesis creation story is equally applied to the American family. We Americans are a household which is a place of dreams fulfilled and broken. The tragic favoritism of whites over African Americans is still playing the story over again in masked and unmasked forms. Our American family is still very much a dysfunctional family with many tragedies which demand all our efforts to sort out, correct, and heal. I look forward to the day when all Americans are singing America the Beautiful with the gratitude and soulfulness that the largely gay audience sang when the Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage. Juneteenth is a day for the moment to celebrate the great political achievements of the Emancipation Proclamation, The passing of the 13th Amendment, the achievements of the Civil Rights movement and the progress of integration since then. However, we are reminded daily and painfully that the job is not done. The genius of the Civil Rights Movement was to invite white as allies in the cause. It replicated in human terms the fullness of God, God’s name, “our.” It is time now for whites to ask our black sisters and brothers with humility, with courage, and with eagerness, what is needed of us now, teach us what to do. Help us, Lord, to listen without defensiveness, argumentativeness, and, most importantly, with love.
The number of police killings since 2014 of African Americans added up, aroused fear and anger to new levels, and actually frightened many whites as well. We liberal whites who can face the truth are aghast, but we cannot seem to move. We are frozen like deer in the headlights. We cannot forget the names of those killed by the police and vigilantes because it smacks of the Jim Crow era. We cannot go backward. Let us pray for the fathers of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice here in Cleveland, Eric Harris, Walter Scott, Freddie Gray, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, Stephon Clark, Botham Jean, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Daunte Wright, and Patrick Lyoya. We are nowhere near the fulfillment of our dreams for a just society for all people. The creation of the world and all the wonders of life, especially with “humankind” and all the animals of the earth, tells us that God’s desire is for a wondrous world filled with a wide variety of beings. Even in the story of the Great Flood and Noah’s Ark, God commanded that representatives of all living things be brought into the Ark so that diversity would be preserved. God’s plan seems to be unity within diversity, with even God self- referring as “Our.” So, we whites need to stop resting in the achievements of the past decades and turn lovingly to our black sisters and brothers and earnestly apologize for our complacency and complicity. We can hope for forgiving for the sins of the generations of the past to the present, but we cannot hope or ask for forgetting. This can only be asked if we do the work to turn towards our black sisters and brothers and ask them what is required of us.
How can we turn this around?
This is the time to say that the Church must take a leading role in helping us to move forward. I highly recommend our Church’s report on repairing the racial breach in church and in the larger society. It is “Realizing Beloved Community, a Report from the House of Bishops Theology Committee.” The report emphatically states that understanding the roots and tentacles of white supremacy is essential for racial progress to occur. Elements of that process includes remorse and confession for the active and substantial role played by Christianity, the Anglican Communion, and The Episcopal Church in constructing, maintaining, defending, and profiting from this monstrous sin and scandal of racism. The report lays out a formal process to address this most pressing of issues. Our church is committing and so should we all. Fathers and Mothers unite in the “our-ness of our God” and lead our children to a new future so all may step through an open door into a society which has open arms. Amen.