The Feast of Christ the King - Better Late than Never!

Theologians and Biblical scholars have noted that if one were to take three passages from the New Testament and discard the rest, one could still have the fullness of the teachings of the Gospel. The first is that great Hymn in the Prologue of the Gospel of St. John, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God. And the Word was God. And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.”

The second is from the Eighth Chapter of St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans where the Blessed, if not sometimes grumpy, Apostle says, “For I am convinced that neither life nor death, nor angels nor principalities, nor things present nor things to come, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

And the third is this morning’s Gospel, the separating of the sheep from the goats and that what we do to the least of the members of Christ’s family, in other words, all humanity, we do to him.

In many ways, it seems pointless to preach on this morning’s Gospel. No preacher can outdo our Lord in this wonderful passage. And, in our particular case, any preacher would be preaching to the Choir. This is a passage that we understand and that we as a community have taken to heart. And we do the best we can as individuals and as a community and leave the rest to the grace of God.

In some ways, it’s unfortunate that this wonderful Gospel is appointed for the Feast of Christ the King because the Feast of Christ the King is somewhat an oxymoron. Jesus didn’t come to be King. He came to serve and to give his life that we might live. The Feast itself has odious roots to begin with.

Some historians claim that the First World War was a family feud gone terribly bad. The Kaiser, the Czar and the King were all first cousins, grandsons of Her Glorious Majesty, Victoria, Queen of England, Scotland, Northern Ireland and Her Dominions, and Empress of India. When the smoke cleared after the most vicious and destructive war in human history up to that point, the Czar and his family were dead, the Kaiser was in exile in Holland, and the King’s empire less powerful than when the war had started. In November of 1918, Europe lay in ruins, refugees migrating here and there. Chaos ruled in many parts. New nation states were trying to form and well into the 1920s, the economic situation on the Continent was dire especially in what was left of Germany and the former Austro-Hungarian Empire of the Hapsburgs. All was ripe for an opportunist to come onto the scene and try to steal the show.

That opportunist was to be found in the person of Pius XI, Bishop of Rome. Pius had his own problems. He and his entourage were essentially prisoners within what eventually would become the nation state of Vatican City. His predecessors having lost the Papal States in the previous century, His Holiness’ temporal power was all but gone. And, in a bid to reassert his power, he established the Feast of Christ the King in 1925. The theology of the feast celebrated the Lordship of Christ over all humanity who owed him their undying allegiance. Fair enough. But Pius had other ideas too. Being Christ’s vicar on Earth, the allegiance was to be shown to him and his authority obeyed without question. After all, he WAS the Pope! The non-Catholic world just rolled their eyes and thumbed their noses at Pius. And Roman Catholics were happy to celebrate the feast, but as for the rest of it, they just smiled and said, “How nice, Your Holiness. Thanks for sharing,” and went on their merry ways as if nothing had happened.

And it’s no wonder that nobody took Pius seriously. Let’s face it: kings haven’t been a real success in the political business. From the Pharaohs to the Roman Emperors to the Czars to the monarchs of our own Tradition as Anglicans, kings in general have either been tyrants who oppressed their people to the ultimate degree or were just plain incompetent hedonists. The only monarchs worth their salt have been the women. Within our own Tradition, from Good Queen Bess, to Queen Anne, to the seemingly never-ending reign of Queen Victoria to the present occupant of the British throne, the women have, in comparison to the men, been a rousing success. They have been seen as the kind but strong mothers of their realms and healthy mothers always have their wellbeing of their children at heart. The metaphor of Christ as King just doesn’t work. First of all, Jesus came not to be a king but to give his life so that we might live abundantly. But to call this Feast the Feast of Christ the Queen might raise some eyebrows, or just make everyone laugh hysterically. So we won’t go there.

One such typical king was Edward the 8th who almost reigned over the British Empire in the 1930s. The issue, at least in the news papers, was that “David,” as he was known to the family, wanted to marry an American divorcee by the name of Mrs. Simpson. And according to Canon Law, the King could not be married to a divorced woman nor be divorced himself. So, the King would have to abdicate. Behind closed doors, the real truth was that David was an ardent admirer of the little square mustached dictator in Germany and wanted Britain to enter the coming war on the side of the Axis powers. Cosmo Lang, the Archbishop of Canterbury, an ardent loather of Hitler and National Socialism would have none of it. The divorce was a good excuse. But David would be a Nazi King over the Archbishop’s dead body. And so, things were diplomatically resolved and David and Mrs. Simpson were married and moved to France. In this case, “moved” means exiled.

This left his younger brother, George, to ascend the throne. Now, George, or Bertie as he was known to his family since one of his Christian names was Albert after his great-great grandfather, the Prince Consort to Queen Victoria, hadn’t been raised to assume royal duties as the King. He’d been raised to cut ribbons and christen ships and the last thing he really wanted was to be King of anything. He was an extreme introvert with a speech impediment who probably suffered from some sort of anxiety disorder which was neither diagnosed nor treated in those days. Fortunately, he’d married Elizabeth Bowes Lyons, the daughter of a Scottish aristocrat, who was a gracious and gregarious woman and whom we all grew to love as the Queen Mum. With their two daughters, one of which now sits on the British Throne to this day, before all the controversy their future was one of quiet royalty living in peace and doing things that the royals do. But now, this timid man with the stutter was to be King. And he wasn’t too happy about it. But, then, what could he do?

In September of 1940, the Luftwaffe began nightly air raids over London which lasted for eight months. At first, the raids had their benefit. Initially, the blitz was aimed at the industrial sections of London which had once been residential. Here were situated many Churches whose congregations had long since moved away. But by law, each Church still needed to be staffed by a paid Vicar. With the blitz, the Churches were gone and Archbishop Lang was relieved that his budget had been freed up a bit. But other than this, there were no benefits especially once the Luftwaffe began its onslaught upon the civilian population in residential districts. The devastation was massive and the cost in human lives unbearable. But each morning, the residents of London, with that stiff upper lip, would come up from the Underground and begin the process of cleaning up the mess and mourning the dead.

Now, you must know that the staff of Buckingham Palace is very tight lipped about what goes on within the Royal Family. They are very protective their employers but occasionally a story leaks out. The story is told that one night the bombings had been particularly fierce. Large residential areas lay smoldering in ruins. At 7 O’clock in the morning, the Queen entered the Royal Bed Chamber and said, “Bertie, there’s been a bombing. Bertie? Where are you?” The reply came, “I’m under the bed.” “What on earth are you doing there?” “I heard the bombs dropping and figured it was safer down here.” The valets coaxed his Majesty out from under the bed and as they began to get him dressed the Queen looked at him and said, “Now, Bertie, the people are bad off. They need us. They need you. You are their king. And we must be with them now. It won’t be easy for you, so you’ll have to be strong. It is our duty.” Bertie wasn’t thrilled but he knew his beloved wife was right. Within a half an hour, the Bentley was winding its way through the streets of London.

The news reels from that time are overwhelmingly moving. They show the Bentley driving into a street, the homes nothing more than heaps of smoldering bricks and broken glass. Finally the Bentley slows and stops. The chauffer emerges and opens the back passenger door. And the first thing you see is a white glove extended and a middle aged woman with a very big hat teeming with feathers gets out. Immediately she’s shaking hands with the locals, offering them her condolences and the comfort only a mother can give. And then, like a deer in the headlights, emerges a man in a long military coat and officer’s hat. It’s the King. His wife gently pulls him from the car and introduces him to her newly made friends. This is no photo op. This is real life. And the news reel ends with the Queen’s right arm over the shoulders of a local woman in an apron, her hair in a top not. The Queen is smiling, giving hope to those who really need it. And the King is there and he knows he is where he needs to be.

This is a monarch worthy of the metaphor of the Feast of Christ the King. This is a monarch worthy of this morning’s Gospel reading. Here is a monarch – the wife of a monarch really – willing to forgo the protocol of centuries to be with the least of these, the members of her family. And here is the queen, the power behind the throne, giving her husband the love and nurture he needs to be the King his people need him to be.

But there is no metaphor when it comes to the real image of Christ the King. It’s the truth. It’s fact which no one can doubt; that in the blitzes of our own lives, it is Christ the King, even Christ the Queen Mum, who comes to us and emerges from the Bentley and wraps her arms around us – and we are not alone. It is this King that meets us where we are, warts and all, who smiles at the camera and gives us the courage to meet the challenge of the present and move into the future with hope and love. And it is this King, this Christ, who calls us then to go into the world to feed the hungry and clothe the naked; to visit the prisoners and embrace the outcast; to love the unlovable and sit with the lonely; because we know that these people are not just people, but they are Christ himself.

Now that I think of it, and I’ve preached this sermon, maybe the Feast of Christ the King has something to it for King Jesus is no tyrant. Nor is he an opportunist trying to assert his power. No, this King Jesus rules with the iron rod of peace and mercy, of compassion and joy. This King Jesus comes down from the throne and not only dwells among us, but lives vibrantly within us. Look at the person seated next to you. She or he is Christ himself. Treat him or her as you would any great monarch. And when you are confronted with the poor and the neglected, the cranky and the sometimes unlovable, bow in deep respect for your are in the presence of your Lord, the One we know as Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

3 July 2011 - Independence Day (Observed)

As you can tell by these fancy brocade duds, I’m a clergyman. But at heart, I’m an historian. I wound up in this vocation by my love of history. One of the things about history is that it’s written by the victors. History is therefore somewhat subjective. It’s always slanted. But every history has its dark side. From the pages of some obscure journal or other source, one can always find out what the vanquished experienced and from the stories of the victors and the vanquished, a more reasonable facsimile of the truth can emerge.

The American Revolution was a glorious cause. The tyranny and oppression of the British were over the top. The Revolution was long overdue. And yet, even our own Revolution had its dark side. We don’t hear about the atrocities inflicted by the Colonial Army. But they happened. They happen in every war, even for the most just cause.

King George III


I suspect none of us learned in our history textbooks in school how the Church of England in the Colonies suffered. It did. Greatly. Our textbooks omit the fact that not just a few Anglican churches and rectories were burned to the ground, frequently with the occupant inside, by the Colonial troops and the property taken. We hear nothing of the Anglican priest slaughtered at their Communion Tables or those dragged from their high, three tiered pulpits and hanged in the Church yard. We hear little about the throngs of Anglicans, laity and clergy alike, who abandoned the Church during the Revolution for the Presbyterian and newly forming Methodist churches because they no longer wanted to be associated with the Crown. It’s one of the reasons those denominations have always been larger than us.

But when the dust settled and the British had finally gone home, what had been the Church of England in the Colonies was in shambles. There had been really not much organization. The colonial Church had been a missionary district of the Diocese of London and now with those ties broken there wasn’t even that. There were no bishops; just a large mass of demoralized and frightened men.

These men, the priests of the Church of England, took their lives very seriously. Ordination in those days was a pain in the neck. After one had been duly educated at one of the universities, arrangements were made in the autumn for the ordinations to take place. In the spring, after the weather had gotten nicer, these men were put on board ships to make the long, arduous and boring journey across the Atlantic where they docked at Portsmouth or Southampton. There they were met by carriages which took them north to St. Paul’s Cathedral in London where that evening they were ordained deacon and the next morning to the priesthood. Then they were packed back up into the carriages which headed south again to catch the ships and the next high tide. No time for the Tower of London and Big Ben was still not even a dream.

During these ordinations, each candidate took an oath to the death to the King who was, after all, the head of the Church. It was a sacred oath, one not taken lightly and to which each candidate owed his honor and his integrity. This was an oath as important as their marriage vows and could never be broken.

Bishop Seabury


In 1784, the Reverend Samuel Seabury, Rector of Christ Church, Hartford Connecticut, intimidated the local clergy into electing him their bishop. Seabury was an arrogant somebody and somewhat of a bully who made the long trip across the Atlantic to be consecrated bishop. But when he presented himself with all the testimonials to his fitness to be a Successor to the Apostles, the Bishop of London asked him if he would take the oath of allegiance to the King. Seabury replied, “Well, of course not!” The Bishop replied, “Then I cannot ordain you.” Then under his breath, the Bishop said, “But I know someone who can!”

So, The Reverend Mr. Seabury made his way north to Scotland to the Bishop of Aberdeen, a Bishop of the Scottish Episcopal Church, not to be confused with the Church of Scotland, that bastion of Calvinistic Presbyterian heresy which is a whole other sermon in itself! The Bishop of Aberdeen agreed to consecrate Seabury, but on two conditions: 1, that the new American Church be named after the Scottish Church – “Can’t very well go on calling it the “Church of England,” now can you”; and that the new American Church use the Communion of Liturgy of the Scottish Church rather than that of the Church of England. This was actually a blessing to us all since the Communion Liturgy of the Church of England is rather strange – one receives Communion in the middle of the Eucharistic Prayer after the Words of Institution. Go figure. Archbishop Cranmer must’ve been having a bad day. In any event, Mr. Seabury was consecrated and returned to Christ Church, Harford, now Christ Church Cathedral, as the Right Reverend Samuel Seabury, Bishop of Connecticut.

The next year, the Reverend William White, soon to be the first man actually elected by the Church as bishop, called for a conference of what was left of the Anglicans in what had been the Colonies to assemble at his parish Church, Christ Church, Philadelphia, to hammer out what an American Church might look like. Christ Church Cathedral still stands to this day and is a vibrant, active parish in the old part of Philadelphia. It’s an old Georgian building with galleries around three sides, painted white inside with clear glass windows and box pews. It’s gone rather High Church in the last two hundred years. Wonder what Bishop White would think of that? In any event, on a hot, July day in 1785, as many as could attend, filled Christ Church: the clergy on the main floor, the laity in the galleries. The clerk of the conference writes that the first day was total bedlam: those who had taken up the Revolutionary cause vs. those who had remained loyal to the Crown. Of course, it was all very polite. For instance, one clergyman would rise to respond to another by saying, “I would like to respond to my beloved Brother in Christ, the Heretic and Traitor from South Carolina…..” This would be followed by applause and booing and stomping and cat calls. (So much for English gentility!) By the end of the day, soon-to-be Bishop White was at his wits end. Nothing had been accomplished except division and fighting.

Christ Church Cathedral, Philadelphia


And the next day was none the better. After Morning Prayer, the proceeding were take up from the previous day which immediately turned into yet another pie fight. And it got nastier. It wasn’t pretty and Bishop White was by now pulling his hair out. Violence had not yet ensued, but it was well on the way.

Bishop White

In the midst of this nightmare, the clerk handed Bishop White a note which said that the Reverend Mr. George Brown of New Hampshire wished to address the assembly. Bishop White must’ve thought, “What can it hurt?”

The Reverend George Brown was a nobody vicar from a small parish outside Concord, New Hampshire. He was short, fat and dumpy and beginning to go bald. While highly educated, he spoke with a stammer and was quite an introvert. But his parish adored him. What he lacked in physical attributes, he more than made up in abilities as a pastor.

Over the din, Bishop White yelled, “The Reverend Mr. Brown of New Hampshire has asked to address the conference.” Mr. Brown was seated in the back of the Church and began the long trek down the side isle, there is no central isle, of the Church. He bowed to the Communion Table and shook Bishop White’s hand and then began the long ascent into the three tiered pulpit. These pulpits were three-decker styled, the bottom for the “Clerke,” the middle for the Lay Reader and the top from which the sermon was preached. These were the days before public address systems and the pulpit was topped with a sounding board so everyone could, at least in theory, hear.

Mr. Brown looked out onto the sea of men in black and cleared his throat. He must’ve been petrified, but he mustered up some courage and began to speak: “August Gentlemen, I..” From the back, someone yelled, “LOUDER! WE CAN’T HEAR YOU!” That must’ve soothed Mr. Brown’s nerves! But he went on, a bit louder: “AUGUST GENTLEMEN, Fellow Clergymen, Laymen in the galleries, I have spent the last day and a half as a witness to these proceedings which have been painful and filled with much rancor. And I have searched the innermost workings of my heart to come to some resolution about the matter at hand. We are all men of integrity and high minds, now situated in what seems to have become a new nation. Some of us sided with the cause that has prevailed, all good men, men of integrity and pure heart. But I must admit that I have remained loyal to the Crown and continue to do so. I, as you, took a sacred oath, which in my own mind I cannot betray. And many of you have come to a different conclusion, one with which I do not agree, but which I honor, for you are all men of good will.

“But as I have sat and witnessed these proceedings, I have come to the firm conclusion that I cannot pledge my allegiance to Mr. Washington. And at the same time, I realize that I can no longer pledge my heart to King George. For neither George Washington nor George the Third took flesh of the Blessed Virgin and became one of us. Neither George went to the Cross and have his life for the sins of the world. It was Jesus. It was Christ himself who has called us, neither of the Georges, and it only to him that I can give my heart. And when I look at all of this in such a perspective, the rest becomes unimportant. And so I will continue a priest in whatever this Church is to be named, with only one oath, and that to Jesus Christ our Lord.” Mr. Brown paused, “I thank you.”

Mr. Brown descended the long staircase of the pulpit of Christ Church and began to return to his seat. And no one said a word. No one could. The only thing one could hear was the clopping of horseshoes against the cobblestone street outside. One could’ve heard a pin drop. No one coughed. No one rustled. Dead silence. And the silence continued for nearly five minutes – a silence filled with wordless awe and wonder.

After five minutes, Bishop White slowly stood and addressed the assembly: “Does anyone have anything further to contribute to this matter?” There was no response. Bishop White then asked them all to rise, opened the English Prayer Book and offered a collect, and then dismissed the assembly for lunch. “We will reconvene at two o’clock and take up the matter of a constitution.”

Tomorrow we will celebrate the 235th anniversary of the founding of this great nation. And much has changed in that time. We presently live in a nation divided, of anger and vehemence not unlike that assembly gathered in Christ Church on that hot July day of 1785. And we all think we’re right and we demonize those who might disagree with us. There is verbal warfare and adherence to ideologies that do nothing but continue to make things worse. And we all feel it to some degree. And we all have our opinions and our allegiances. Some of us are Republicans and some of us are Democrats. Some of us are screaming, left wing liberals and some of us are right wing conservatives. And I suspect if we took a poll in this Parish Church this morning, we’d find a mixed bag. And yet, the words of the Reverend Mr. Brown are as profound on this day as they were on that hot, July day so long ago. Because our true allegiance isn’t to the elephant or the donkey; it’s not to a cause for the left or the right; it’s not to a party or a person or even to the Church, but, as Christians, it is to Jesus Christ and to him alone. And when we are able to put things in such a perspective, then the Reverend Mr. Brown was right: the rest just doesn’t really matter.

We live in perilous times. If one watches the news, it’s not pretty out there and the future is one, big, giant question mark. We’re in a mess and there seem to be few viable roads out. But for us Christians, if we can keep in mind to whom we owe our ultimate allegiance and to whom we belong, then the future is not so daunting and in the midst of uncertainty and fear we can be beacons of light and hope not only to ourselves but to those who also need it. And if the worse happens, it will happen. And we will survive and thrive because we know who and whose we are.

So, tomorrow, as you slather your hot dogs with relish and salt your potato salad, and put on your parkas to go out and watch the clouds light up, give thanks for this great nation and pray for its future and its leaders. But, at a deeper level, remember to whom you owe your ultimate and willing allegiance. Remember who and whose you are. Remember the One who is our true and only hope; that One who, as the Reverend Mr. Brown said, took flesh of the Blessed Virgin and give his life for the world: Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

The Feast of the Ascension

Link to the lessons

Mary Cunningham was my third grade Sunday School teacher and a woman who should be canonized for her tolerance and kindness. Through the years, I've been tempted to write an icon of her because, at least for me in retrospect, was a mirror into heaven.

Speaking of icons, in Mrs. Cunningham's Sunday School room hung those "icons" from the 1950s of various biblical scenes like Jesus and the little children, the Feeding of the Multitudes, and the like; icons which looked more like cartoons than religious depictions.

One Sunday morning, Mrs. Cunningham was working through her lesson plan when I, the intrepid question asker,, blurted out, "What's THAT?" pointing to one of the "icons" on the wall. It was a depiction of the Blessed Virgin in the middle with six men on each side of her all of whom were looking towards the top of the picture at a pair of feet which hung into the top of the picture. Mrs. Cunningham replied, "That's a picture of the Ascension." "Oh," I replied. "What's THAAAT?" "That's when Jesus went up into heaven after his Resurrection." "Oh, I replied, "Where's THAAAAT?" Mrs. Cunningham pointed upwards with her index finger. I looked up and all I saw were ceiling tiles. But for the moment, it shut me up. I didn't know what to say. Plus, I just figured that she meant "up theres." And Mrs. Cunningham's answer worked for many years until I got old enough to start asking theological questions.

As I matured, at least theologically, I also grew academically. The world view of those who lived in Jesus' time and long after believed that God lived beyond the dome of the sky which wasn't all that far up in the air. In the last half a millennium,we've come to know that the universe is vast and unending; that the earth is a rather insignificant planet in a rural solar system in a galaxy after which we've named a candy bar. Of course, even those assertions are constantly in flux. But we DO know that God doesn't live above the dome. And since our knowledge has grown, the idea of the Ascension as the Acts of the Apostles relates it means that Our Lord is still ascending....and to where, we don't know. Or...he may be in orbit, riding a satellite.

Scripture has its own "code" for certain things. The term "forty days" is a way of saying, "a significant amount of time." In other words, Noah was in the Ark for a significant amount of time as well as was Jesus in the desert. And from what we can tell, the Risen Christ appeared and was present with not all the disciples and the Apostles for some significant amount of time. But, eventually or all at once, the Risen One was not as present as previously experienced and eventually, his presence had entirely vanished.

The Feast of the Ascension

THE SIXTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

Sorry I haven't been able to post lately. It's near the end of the quarter and I'm up to my neck in research papers. Mom's fine but requiring some extra time, which I'm more than glad to give. And life is hectic. I'll be glad when summer gets here.

The sermon is based on the lessons for the day:
Acts 17:22-31
Psalm 66:7-18
1 Peter 3:13-22
John 14:15-21

Enjoy!

Last summer, we were invited to a party of some good friends of ours. Nice people. They throw great parties. They’re not wild parties, but the food is good and we know most of the people who attend and it’s usually the proverbial good time that was had by all.

After we’d made the rounds, another friend flagged us down and invited us to sit with him and some other fellow we’d never met before. After some polite pleasantries, our friend mentioned to the other fellow what I did for a living. I always cringe when people do that: I know what’s coming. The man looked a bit puzzled and then said, “You don’t look like someone who would believe all that stuff.” I replied, “What stuff?” He said, “You know, all that stuff about an infallible book that tells you that women are inferior, that the world was made in six days, six thousand years ago by an old man with a long, grey beard, about some zombie born of a virgin that saves sinners who believe in him, and that all gay people and everyone else who doesn’t believe in him is going to hell.” I smiled and then replied, “I don’t believe any of that stuff.” The fellow said, “But you have to! That’s what Christians believe, don’t they?!”

I have to admit to guilty pleasure over the last couple of weeks: I’ve been following the goings on of Harold Camping and his followers. And for those of you who don’t know, the Rapture has been postponed until the 21st of October. So, Martin, you don’t have to plan anything or All Saints Day or after. I’ve found this whole thing rather fascinating as well as sad. I’m still not sure what to make of the thousands who sold all their belongings and gave the money to Harold and now have absolutely nothing.

In the process, I’ve been watching the discussion boards on CNN and Yahoo as well as just listening to people in the grocery store and on the streets. And it’s become apparent that over the last thirty years or so, due to the influence of such people as Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell, may he rest in peace, and poor Jimmy Swaggert, not to mention Tammy Faye and Jim Baker and a whole host of other “preachers,” much of the American populace has come to believe what the fellow at the party had articulated. In many ways, the term “Christian” has become a bad word and anyone who ascribes to it is perceived as a naïve, closed minded, bigoted simpleton. Much of this perception is rooted deep in American history which was and continues to be highly influenced by our Puritan roots and the teachings of Calvinism. But I digress.

It is no wonder that Mainline Churches are becoming emptier and emptier. People really don’t know us, what we stand for, what we believe. It’s also no surprise the churches of our Fundamentalist brethren and sistren are bursting at the seams: we live in a world that becomes more complex by the second and cheap answers to complex questions make some feel safe. Being the kind of Christianity the fellow at the party knew about may make one feel good, but doesn’t work.

What has become apparent is that the God to whom Jesus bore witness and what Jesus taught have been replaced by religious and theological systems which are nothing more than reflections and projections of the human fears, values and prejudices of those who hold them. And, since they have the resources to proclaim their message loud and clear, it’s the message that gets heard. And many on this continent and in Europe have decided that they want none of it. And rightfully so.

And at the same time, people wouldn’t be so vitriolic towards Christianity in particular and religion in general if they didn’t give a rip. It’s pretty obvious that people in our time have a deep and chronic yearning for a connection to something beyond themselves, something greater than themselves, something which is timeless, enduring and gives meaning to life. Science has continues to wonderfully articulate and unfold the mysteries of the physical world, but people are beginning to realize that it can’t answer the mysteries of the inner world. And our consumerism and materialism have proven empty at best. We live in a world of a spiritual vacuum yearning to be filled.

In many ways, it feels like St. Paul standing in the Areopagus, which was where the legal courts were located on the Acropolis, preaching to the Athenians. The Athenians and the rest of the Greeks as well as the rest of the ancient world were quite devout people. They offered their devotions to the gods as was required of each deity. But nearly all of ancient religion was based on appeasing the gods so that they’d do what you asked as well as not send some sort of calamity on your on account of your transgressions or just because the gods felt like it. Much of ancient religion was based on the cycles of nature. But it was also based on fear: fear of calamity, fear of famine, fear of war and fear of death. And the Athenians were pretty scrupulous about trying to keep the gods happy. Why, they even had an altar to an unknown god just in case they’d missed one. Don’t want to tick HIM off!

This was just the opening St. Paul needed. Obviously, the Athenians were open to the idea of at least one more god. So, St. Paul took the chance to tell the Athenians about a particular unknown God. St. Paul knew that our knowledge of God is minutely incomplete; that understanding the actual Being of God is beyond the human mind. But he also understood that deep within the human soul is an instinct that is able to connect with its Source and that this connection brings life and hope and peace. And, St. Paul also knew that what we can “know” about God had been revealed in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, his Lord (and ours!) who had preached love instead of fear, compassion instead of greed, mercy instead of vengeance, peace instead of violence, hope instead of despair. It was this Jesus that revealed not just “a” god, but “the” God of the entire universe whose love and mercy and forgiveness are a given, who doesn’t require incense burned at his shrine or sacrifices offered on altars, but requires humans to love the unlovable, to embrace the outcast, to care for those in need, to seek justice for the vulnerable and to stand up to abusive authority, both secular and religious. And to the Athenians, this God was something entirely new. They’d never heard of such a Deity before. Plus the fact that since there was just one, it cut down on the how many gods one had to keep happy!

And so, it is time for us to take on the mission of St. Paul himself as he spoke to the Athenians. I have to admit that the Blessed Apostle is not one of my favorites. He can be a bit rigid and cranky at times. But in this instance, he’s who we need. It’s time for the Church to proclaim to the world the unknown God to our own society, to our own culture; the God who has become unknown in favor of the one we have made, the One whom Jesus proclaimed and the message which he preached. It’s time for those outside the Church to hear an alternative and faithful proclamation of the Gospel, a gospel not based in fear and judgment and guilt, but the Gospel: of love and mercy and forgiveness and peace, a Gospel which can fill the spiritual vacuum to overflowing.

They say that charity begins at home. Well, I believe that the beginning of change also begins at home. I suspect that you are like me: that, when people ask, you too have to explain that you’re not “that” kind of Christian. But then, what do we do?

We need to learn how to articulate what we believe. I know that such a thing is difficult for us Episcopalians. We’re traditionally introverts when it comes to our faith. We verbalize it through ritual and the words of the Prayer Book. And there’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, it’s marvelous and a gift from God. But, we also need to learn to become functional extroverts about our faith. We need to be able to articulate in a concise, frank and unapologetic manner what we truly believe with no strings attached for the one to whom we are speaking. We need to be able to more clearly offer to others the God whom Jesus was and proclaimed because that’s what people in our day and age yearn for and for which they are starving. We need to be like St. Paul and offer the God our culture has forgotten or maybe even never known as the viable alternative to the false gods that our culture and even our religion have created.

In this morning’s Gospel lesson, Jesus says, “If you love me, keep my commandments.” I have no doubt of our love for God. I know that we introverted Episcopalians are “doing” those commandments all the time. We may be introverts at verbally articulating the faith, but we’re extroverts when it comes to living it. We’re keeping his commandments – as best we can. And the promise is that we don’t have to do this alone. Jesus goes on to promise his own Spirit to accompany us, to give us courage to be the heart and the hands to reach out to a world starving for the Divine.

Giving witness to the unknown God, but known to us in Jesus, is something we have to learn to do. Most of us are afraid of doing so and being lumped together with the purveyors of the known god the TV preachers and Harold Camping talk about. It’s a valid fear. So we have to learn to do it in a manner that is non-threatening, inviting and not coercive. We need first to begin to articulate what we hold dear and how God has transformed our own lives to each other. We need find alternatives to apologizing for being people of faith; alternatives which reveal that some, dare I say most, Christians – and people of faith and goodwill in general - are not naïve simpletons but rather people of depth, compassion, open minds and listening hearts.

We have our work cut out for us. And it’s not easy work. In fact, it’s hard work. But it’s the work deeply rooted in what life is all about. And it’s work we will not do alone. We will do it with each other and with the promised Spirit to give us courage and comfort and openness to whatever may come our way. We will proclaim the unknown God with boldness and clarity; that unknown God made known to the world in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

Happy Mothers Day

I usually find Hallmark Holidays rather annoying. Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Secretary’s Day, National Hemorrhoid Week and the like. They seem to be holidays made up to sell cards, candy and schlock.

But Mother’s Day does have a less commercial side to it. During the sixteenth century, people returned to their mother church for a service to be held on Laetare Sunday, the Fourth Sunday in Lent. Its widescale revival was through the influence of American and Canadian soldiers serving abroad during World War II; the traditions of Mothering Sunday, still practiced by the Church of England and Church of Ireland (Anglican) were merged with the newly-imported traditions and celebrated in the wider Catholic and secular society. British based merchants saw the commercial opportunity in the holiday and relentlessly promoted it in the UK; by the 1950s it was celebrated across all the United Kingdom. So, in the long run, I think Mother’s Day is a good thing especially in and for the Church. It reminds us of the essence of God and the attributes we assign to “Him.”

In many places, the Blessed Mother is venerated on this Sunday which seems especially appropriate. To me, St. Mary has always been the feminine side of God anyway. I never bought into those strange notions our Roman Brethren and Sistren have like Mary’s perpetual virginity and such. St. Ambrose was so taken with the idea that he claimed Jesus had been born from Mary’s ear in order to preserve her…um…uh….well, you get the picture. What caught my imagination about the Blessed Mother is that she was just that: a mother – and a healthy mother at that. Healthy mothers love their children no matter what. They may not understand their kids or even like what they do, but healthy mothers never stop loving their children. Healthy mothers will gladly give their own lives to save the life of their children. Take the animal kingdom as an example: don’t get between a Mama Grizzly and her cub. It won’t be pretty.

And Mary was no different. There were times when her Son was an enigma. At times he even annoyed her – take the wedding at Cana for example. (In the Greek, Jesus’ response to her is much more nasty than it’s translated into English.) When she and the kids went to fetch him because people thought he was a loonie, he denied her saying that those who do the will of his Father were really his mother and brothers and sisters. But she kept loving him. Why? Because she was a mom and that’s what moms do.

I have this notion that Mary was also the author of the Good News. As an unwed mother, she’d’ve never been totally accepted in Nazareth social circles. She was always an outsider even though Joseph had married her. She know what it was to be on the outside looking in. And one day, when Jesus is about twelve, he comes home with a bloody nose. He says to his mother, “Mom! Do you know what they’re saying about me? Do you know what they’re sying about YOU? Well, I showed’m.” And his Blessed Mother replies, “We don’t behave that way. Let them say what they want. Violence is never an option. AND, they’re God’s beloved children too whether we like it or not. So, no more bloody noses.” Of course, at twelve, it took a few more years for it to finally sink in. And when it did, Jesus went out and preached it from the roof tops.

And that’s why I see Our Lady as the feminine side of God. God has that maternal instinct, if one can say the Divine has instincts, which loves us no matter what. When we’re being saintly, or when we’re being immoral, illegal and fattening, God continues to love us with no strings attached. It’s just the way it is. We might deny God, but God will never deny us. And when life has reached its end, God will welcome us home like mom does when we’ve been away for a long time – no matter what, no matter what we’ve done, no matter who we’ve been.

Maybe I have this concept because I’m fortunate enough to have a great Mom. At almost 92, she’s spry, bright and sharp as a tack. I go to visit her just for fun and we have a grand time. (OK, so I have to hear the stories more than once. Is that such a big deal???) And my Mom loved and loves me like God does: with no strings attached. And I guess that’s who taught me about God.

So, Happy Mother’s Day to all the Moms out there. Happy Mother’s Day to those who are still with us. Happy Mother’s Day to those who rejoice with but upon another shore and in a greater light. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! You deserve it. You put up with ME all these years. And Happy Mother’s Day, Mother of us All. Your love influenced one heck of a Son.

A RECIPE FOR GROWTH

I ran into this online.  It’s about how to get young people into
Church.  However, the 20th step makes it clear that it works for just about everybody. 

Our parish is growing, but not with the people we'v been told we are to recruit. They're more of the grey heads that seem to populate the pews and it's a good thing; those who seem to come to be with us - those for whom youth, at least physical youth - is a memory.  I can only speak for myself, but I have a tendency to see those who retur

n to the Church in their 40s and 50s as bright, energetic, intellectually astute, successful people.  And usually I’m right.  But my blind spot is that I forget that they’ve returned to the Church because their spirits are hungry.  They’ve begun asking the questions of life that only come with years.  The passion of human love affairs may be of the past, but the passion of God’s love affair with them is becoming clearer.  And they wonder what to do next. 

With these returning folks – of any age but our demographic in mind – we might want to think about offering a community gathering to talk about who we are, where we’re going and what we value.  I find the steps below very hopeful. 

the owls & the angels

silence and breath, we wing to the air, words split open to flight

http://owlrainfeathers.blogspot.com/2010/11/ah-church.html09 November 2010

ah, the church
 
When I was an Episcopal chaplain--for four years--all the time people in the church would ask me, "Why don't young people come to church?" or "How do we get young people to come to church?"  I have some suggestions now, so listen up.

 Here is a step-by-step plan for how to get more young people into the church:

1.  Be genuine.  Do not under any circumstances try to be trendy or hip, if you are not already intrinsically trendy or hip.  If you are a 90-year-old woman who enjoys crocheting and listens to Beethoven, by God be proud of it.

2.  Stop pretending you have a rock band. (Not sure this is pertinent to our situation)
 
3.  Stop arguing about whether gay people are okay, fully human, or whatever else.  Seriously.  Stop it.  (We have and need to be up front about it without being “in your face.”)

4.  Stop arguing about whether women are okay, fully human, or are capable of being in a position of leadership. (Ditto to #3.  We have a woman as a Presiding Bishop!  Hello!)

5.  Stop looking for the "objective truth" in Scripture.  (We’re Anglicans.  Need I say more?)

6.  Start looking for the beautiful truth in Scripture. 

7.  Actually read the Scriptures.  If you are an Episcopalian, go buy a Bible - preferably the New Revised Standard Version) or dust the one on the shelf off and read it.  Start in Genesis, it's pretty cool.  You can skip some of the other boring parts in the Bible (like Leviticus!).  Remember though that almost every book of the Bible has some really funky stuff in it.  Remember to keep #5 and #6 in mind though.  If you come from an evangelical background, you may need to stop reading the Bible for about 10 years.  Don't worry:  during those ten years you can work on putting these other steps into practice.
 
8.  Start worrying about extreme poverty, violence against women, racism, consumerism, homophobia and the rate at which children are dying worldwide of preventable, treatable diseases.  Put all the energy you formerly spent worrying about the legitness of gay people and women into figuring out ways to do some good in these areas.

9.  Do not shy away from lighting candles, silence, incense, laughter, really good food, really good movies and extraordinary music.  By "extraordinary music" I mean genuine music.  Soulful music.  Well-written, well-composed music.  Original music.  Four-part harmony music.  Funky retro organ music.  Hymns.  Taize chants.  Bluegrass.  Steel guitar.  Humming.  Gospel.  We are the Church; we have an uber-rich history of amazing music. Remember Thomas Tallis, Wm Byrd, and the rest of the English Choral Music tradition. Remember this.

10.  Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.  (Hmmm.  Who said that?  I used to remember his/her name.  Now let me see……..)

11.  Learn how to sit with people who are dying.

12.  Feast as much as possible.  Cardboard communion wafers are a feast in symbol only (though actual bread may transcend the cosmos!)  Humans can not live on symbols alone.  Remember this.

13.  Notice visitors, smile genuinely at them, invite them to the 8th Sacrament of Coffee Hour and include them in conversations, but do not overwhelm them (like vultures on fresh meat!)

14.  Be vulnerable.  Jesus was and expects no less from us.  It’s hard, but we’re at least supposed to give it a try. This includes men, including straight men.

15.  Stop worrying about getting young people into the church.  Stop worrying about marketing strategies.  Take a deep breath.  If there is a God, that God isn't going to die even if there are no more Christians at all.

16.  Figure out who is suffering in your community.  Go be with them.

17.  Remind yourself that you don't have to take God to anyone.  God is already with everyone.  So, rather than taking the approach that you need to take the truth out to people who need it, adopt the approach that you need to go find the truth that others have and you are missing.  Go be evangelized.

18.  Put some time and care and energy into creating a beautiful space for worship and being-together.  (We have that already!)  But shy away from building campaigns, parking lot expansions, and what-have-you.

19.  Make some part of the church building accessible for people to pray in 24/7.  Put some blankets there too, in case someone has nowhere else to go for the night.  (Hmm.  We may get flack from Church Insurance, but should that be an issue?)

20.  Listen to God (to Wisdom, to Love) more than you speak your opinions.

21.  (My own)  Have a sense of humor.  Don’t take life more seriously than it needs to be.  Remember God has a sense of humor too – where do you think WE got it from???  

This is a fool-proof plan.  If you do it, I guarantee that you will attract young people (and the young at heart and older in body) to your church.  And lots of other kinds of people too. But remember that growing the Church isn't about butts in pews, pledge cards and such things. It's all about being together in and sharing Christ. It's about living into the Gospel. It's about being a safe and challenging place to grow in love and life.

"Snickering Jesus" by the Blogmeister!

CREDO IN UNUM DEUM

I received a nice email yesterday from a reader who asked what I believed. This wasn't a test of my orthodoxy. I'm an Anglican and for us "orthodoxy" covers a broad spectrum. Personally, I tend to fall on the more Catholic side of that spectrum, all with a sense of humor and knowing that what I know is at best only very slight and partial.

So, I replied with this Affirmation of Faith from my book, New Daily Prayer, www.newdailyprayer.net ( which you have to cut and paste into your address thingy above since the Link tab on this contraption doesn't seem to work) in case you'd like a copy but I'm not really here to be hawking books! The next reprint is in progress.) The text of this Affirmation is below.

I might add that while I am a follower of Jesus of Nazareth, whom we call the Christ or the Messiah, and affirm him as the full Incarnation of God (whatever that really means) I have no doubt that God has been present in the other great prophets and sages through out history with the exception of Joseph Smith who really wasn't either. I also buy into the doctrine of the Trinity as the best we humans can do to explain that which is unexplainable. Ultimately, God knows who He/She/It is which, I guess, is the most important part of it all.

In any event, here goes:


We believe in One God as revealed in the Scriptures
and the ancient Tradition
of the Catholic and Apostolic Church:
the Source of All, the Word made Flesh and Giver of Life;
the Wellspring of all life and mystery
who created and creates all things great and small
n the beauty of holiness.
We believe in Jesus Christ, God With Us,
who was born of Mary, lived, and was raised from the dead;
who reveals God’s heart of peace and forgiveness,
tenderness and compassion, power and might,
which is stronger than even death itself;
We believe in the Spirit who floods us with courage,
and empowers us to be God’s presence in the world.
We believe in our calling to respond to others
as God responds to all:
with mercy, hope, and Grace,
n trust and openness, wonder and joy, peace and simplicity
and in solidarity with the poor,
the marginalized and the outcast.
We rejoice in the new life which bread and wine,
water and oil communicate to us,
and that through them and in us, Jesus is truly present.
We participate in and await the fulfillment of God’s dominion,
in which all find their final rest in union with
the Source of All, the Word made Flesh,
and the Giver of Life,
who lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever.
Amen.

Rublev's Trinity

THOMAS DOUBTED. WOULDN'T YOU??? EASTER II

I’ve always thought Thomas got a bad rap. I don’t blame him for doubting. Wouldn’t you???

By this time in the lives of those of us who are “mature,” we’ve all lost someone dear to us. I lost a spouse almost twenty-five years ago – it’s ancient history so don’t go getting all condolency on me. We’ve all had equally significant tragedies. But, if a week after Jeffrey had died, someone came up to me and said, “Hey! We saw him walking around and talking to people,” I’d’ve replied, “That’s not funny! It’s CRUEL! AND we’re no longer friends! Have a nice life!!” It’s a cruel prank and not one that a “friend” perpetrates. And it was the take that Thomas put on the Apostles telling him that they’d seen Jesus. He wasn’t amused. He was broken hearted and these “friends” of his were pulling a cruel joke. And it wasn’t funny.

Of course, this all took place in the Upper Room where the Last Supper had been held. The week before, the guys had been all holed up there in fear of the Jews… not ALL of the Jewish nation, but the Temple Authorities and the priests, as well as the Romans. They were scared out of their minds that they’d suffer the same fate as their Rabbi. Add to that, Jesus kept appearing to them which didn’t help any. These are the guys who’d scattered in his hour of need and even denied him. The women hadn’t. They seem to have understood the Resurrection. But these guys were so terrified and guilt-ridden that they couldn’t comprehend what was going on.

In the midst of all this fear and angst, appears the Risen One. And it’s a tender but tense moment. Into the midst of their multi-emotional mess, the Risen One comes and says to them, “Peace be with you.” Not, “Where the $$$$ were YOU!?” He greets them with tender love and bids them peace. And at that moment, they get it. They understand what’s going on. Here, in the middle of their fear and guilt, there is no condemnation, no judgment, no bitterness, just love. They now begin to comprehend what the past three years had all been about, what the crucifixion had all been about, what the Resurrection was all about. They know that they are not condemned but loved, unconditionally, and that the source of that love is the Source of All Things standing in front of them as the Risen One.

But Thomas wasn’t there and he couldn’t buy it because he hadn’t yet experienced it. So, the Risen One comes again the following week and bids them all, including Thomas, peace. And Thomas is blown away. And it’s these guys and the women who find their lives totally transformed, so much so that they and their descendants go on to change the course of human history.

But back to doubt. I don’t blame Thomas. He had a right to doubt. And, ultimately, doubt is a good thing, maybe even a grace. Each time we doubt, we go on an adventure, a scavenger hunt for the truth, for certainty to answer our doubt. And when we find it, we rejoice and it feels great. Then, in time, we begin to doubt the new truth, so we go searching again, but this time we find even deeper truth. And in time, we doubt that deeper truth and we go searching again and the cycle goes on and even deeper. And in the process, we find even more refined and clearer truth and that truth brings us deeper into the mystery of God, of the Risen One, of the truth of the fact that we’ve never been condemned, only loved with a tender love which one has for the beloved, the love we continue to have for those we’ve lost and for those who are still with us.

So, go ahead and doubt. And, doubt boldly that grace may abound! (Forgive me, St. Paul!) Doubt with clarity and fortitude and go on the search. And you will find the truth: the truth made known to us in Jesus Christ, our Risen Lord.

Amen.

ALLELUIA! CHRIST IS RISEN!!!
CHRIST IS RISEN INDEED!! ALLELUIA!!!!

REST IN PIECES, OSAMA

OK, Osama’s dead. Yeah! Hooray! and all that stuff. He wasn’t a nice guy. And he was about a good of a Muslim as Pat Robertson is a Christian. They’re both terrorists. Hopefully they’ll meet soon. And while old Osama’s getting acquainted with Attila, Genghis and Adolf, don’t forget that God’s love is stronger than their evil and that eventually they’ll be reconciled with the Almighty. It may take a gazillion years, but that’s the way God seems to work.

Osama was a bad man, to put it overly mildly. At the same time, while he probably meant something different, his words were correct: “America is a decedent society.” If we look at where we are and what we’ve been doing for the last thirty years, it’s no wonder that we’re in the state we’re in. We’ve become a nation of narcissists for whom “it’s all about ME! I want it now! I want something better than you have! I deserve it because I’m ME!” Multiply that by 300 million and you have chaos.

But the Gospel isn’t about ME! It’s about US! (and I don’t mean the U. S.!) Jesus’ message is that we are all sisters and brothers bound together by the fact that we live on this planet and that our job is to look out for each other. And when we make decisions, we’re supposed to make those decisions based not only on how they will benefit “me,” but what the consequences will be on us as a whole. Unfortunately, we’ve forgotten all of that. Even American Christianity by and large has bought into the “me” thing. It’s all about me and my Jesus and my salvation. Yet, in the Early Church, “salvation” was a communal thing. One was “saved” by being part of the Christian community, being baptized into it and eating at the common table.

And the other Sages were all about the same thing: Buddha, Mohammad, Moses and Abraham, the writer of the Tao te Ching, Kung Fu Zu aka Confucius, etc.. Jesus is unique in many ways, but on this topic, he's one of many.

I had tea with my friend Mother Rebecca this afternoon and we talked about the fact that Osama may have killed 3,000 people on 9/11, but in the ensuing years, the previous administration then murdered over a million people - people who got the blame but had absolutely nothing to do with 9/11 - just so they could reap billions personally for the sake of almighty oil. It makes one wonder who the real terrorists are. Are they in a far away land with rags on their heads or are they in our own back yards?

I was, for the first time in a long time, impressed by President Barry last night. His words weren’t about “me” but about “us.” So, I hope he takes his own words to heart. I hope and pray that he is able to show the same leadership in standing up to the Republicans and their plan to dismantle the American republic in favor of the rich at the expense of the rest of us. The Republicans are all about “me!” because “I” deserve it. But they don’t; not any more than the rest of us do.

So, Barry, keep that spine you just grew moving. Keep on talking about “us” and confront the “me’s.” Whether you know it or not, last night you stood on the side of Christ...and the rest of those folks. My prayers are with you.

Blessed Mother of God, pray for us. We need all the help we can get!

REQUIEM FOR A DREAM - Good Friday

A death has occurred. Oh, yes; Jesus is dead. We know this. We’ve based our religion on it. But there has been another death. Christ has been crucified once again. This time in 2011. And we’re still in the denial stage.

This death was not execution. It was from disease. The illness started at the turn of the millennium and the symptoms proceeded to worsen. In Wisconsin and the tumor blew open and ended when budget debate was over. Death came quietly. The breathing and the heart just stopped. It was over.

In watching the debates over the budget as well as all that has transpired in this new millennium, it has become apparent that the body has now been buried. Like the first disciples, few if any of us want to admit that it’s really happened. America as we know it is dead. The ideals of liberty, justice and healthy capitalism have died. The America we grew up in, the America our fathers fought for and our mothers did without for in fighting Fascism in the 40s has become what they had been fighting.

Americans are still allowed to vote, but for what? No matter whom we elect, we get the same thing: politicians whose pockets are lined with the cash of big business, politicians whose motives are to bolster the rich so they themselves can become richer. No matter how we vote or for what we vote, the result is always the same: protect the wealthy, protect big business who continues to give itself outrageous bonuses, bonuses from the money the American tax payer gave, free of charge, for their, big business’s greed and subsequent all expenses paid trip to the abyss of economic ruin. In some ways, this message is not new. (The Temple Authorities and the Romans were just the same.) But it’s what caused the tumor.

To that, we can add the eight years before during which time the surplus which had been accrued in the previous decade was squandered on a war which no one needed except those who wanted to line their pockets with that surplus. And in the process, countless billions were wasted on war and war profiteering all paid for by the American tax payer.

Now we, the American tax payer, are being told that it is our responsibility, our obligation, to pay for all the bills which have been racked up by war, profiteering, corporate greed and deplorable economic behavior. This is to be paid by laying it on the backs of the poor, the marginalized and the elderly, the last being the ones who scrimped and saved and made American what it had been.

The America which the Founders envisioned is dead. And only one Person came back from the dead. And I’m afraid that America isn’t he. There will be no resurrection.

The new America has shades of the fascism our parent’s generation tried to destroy. National Socialism was all about supporting big business at the expense of the people. It was also a totalitarian state which “discouraged” any and all noncompliance. Its intolerance and repression are notorious. And now it has come to our own shores masquerading as patriotism, piety and liberty.

The future looks as bleak now in America as it did in Germany in 1933, for Jesus in 29 AD. The Koch brothers – the I. G. Farben and Krupps Korporation of their time - those in our political leadership, and those like them want one thing: a passive American work force which will gladly work for $2.00 an hour with no benefits, pension or health care. In the process, corporate interests will continue to rack up trillions of dollars - through the labor of the American people - to keep them in the lap of luxury. Our military has now and will only have one objective: the protection of corporate interests and wealth – such as the oil fields in Libya and the destruction of any system which is perceived as a threat. We will live in houses we rent from the corporations and shop at corporate stores.

Already our liberties are in question. Freedom of religion is on the way out. Look at the xenophobia concerning Islam and the tight relationship between corporate and political leaders with “Christian” fundamentalists. Freedom of the press has been dead for a long time. It’s become “freedom of entertainment.” With few exceptions, the media is just an arm of those with power to keep the American people confused and frightened. It is the modern equivalent to Caesar’s “bread and circuses.” The judicial system is now based on winning cases, not on uncovering the truth or facts. Our other liberties and freedoms will be the next to go – all in the name of national security, patriotism and God.

In the process, an American’s life expectancy will plummet due to the unaffordability of heath care. Our elderly will go without medical treatment for lack of funds to purchase coverage. Most of them will die abandoned in substandard housing with no one to look after their needs.

Already there is talk of dismantling public education because government sponsored or supported anything is labeled as “socialism.” Only the wealthy will be able to afford an education. The closing of the public schools will enable those in power to raise up generations with only basic, rudimentary skills: people who will have no knowledge of our national or world history and the inevitability of its repeating itself. Intellectualism will be seen as a threat to those in power and scoffed at as old fashioned and outdated. The general populace, uneducated and ignorant, will certainly be much more pliable to meeting the ever-growing “needs” of those in power.

Fundamentalism will be portrayed as the only true interpretation of Christianity. Roman Catholic and Protestant fundamentalists will indoctrinate the American people with the fallacy that such an interpretation is the true word of God, never to be questioned. With the subtle rise of anti-Semitism in recent years, who knows what will happen to the Jews.

The ultimately sad part is that there is nothing which we, the American people, can do about any of this. Short of armed insurrection, which I am absolutely not advocating – I’m a strict pacifist – the only thing we can do is mourn the death, gird our loins and prepare for the worst. It’s coming. Even if we did take up arms in mass insurrection, those with the financial resources can out-arm the American people to the ultimate degree. It would be like the Destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD.

On a theological level, there is always hope. God is alive and well and always on the side of the oppressed, the marginalized, the outcast and the poor. The Hebrew Scriptures attest to the fact that when the rich got richer and fewer and the poor got poorer and poorer and grew to multitudes, God stepped in and yelled, “OK! Everybody outa d’pool! The party’s over. The Syrians/Romans/Babylonians/Whoever are coming in and carting off the rich into slavery. Those of you left behind can start all over again.

I still believe in that hope. The problem is that things have changed drastically in the last three thousand years. Like with the ancient Hebrews, the only way in which things can change and get better will have to be after a relatively long period of time. The truth is that what the corporations and the politicians are working towards and will succeed in getting isn’t sustainable. It’s a house of cards and eventually a slight breeze will come along and knock it all down. What’s left of America will have to pick up the pieces and it may take hundreds of years before the light is anything more than a glimmer at the end of the tunnel. Certainly, this nation will never again be what it was except, like the Roman Empire, a subject in a history book. America may have to crumble as did the Soviet Union into several different nations. But, who really knows the outcome?

In the process, we as Christians have the obligation to live and move into the future – a future of which, like that of the disciples, the details are absolutely uncertain. How will we live and give witness to the message of Jesus against oppression and injustice? How will we stand with the marginalized and the forgotten? How will we care for the needs of those who’ve been left out in the storm to die? How will we live out compassion, love, mercy and forgiveness in a society which sees such things as the hysterical rantings of lunatics? How will we overcome our own fear and cynicism? How will we join with those who vision God in different ways and worship God using a different name but who understand through their own prophets and sages what Jesus taught us and for which he died? And how will we feed our own souls so that when the house of cards does fall we can be witnesses of hope?

I have no answers to these questions. I am no prophet nor sage. I’m not even sure I have the courage to meet the future as I perceive it. At the same time, I do believe that we need to begin the process of addressing who and what we will be as a people of faith as the present moves into an uncertain future with the possibility of chaos and tyranny.

I truly believe that Franklin Roosevelt was right: the only thing we have to fear is fear itself. The real question may well be: how do we move into the future with goal of overcoming that fear? The only answer I can think of is that we need to begin now, not just as individuals but as community, to begin to name the fears we perceive in the present and for the future. Naming the fear is the beginning of overcoming and disarming it. Naming the fear begins to let the air out of its tires. Naming the fear is the beginning of resurrection.

To confront the fear, we also need to pray. I’m not talking about Polly Anna prayer or the kind of stuff one reads in Helen Steiner Rice cards leading to diabetic coma. I’m talking about being silent and in awe before the Ultimate Power of the Universe, whom Christians believe became human in Jesus of Nazareth, and being connected with that Being in a place deep within ourselves. For many of us, this will be a new endeavor – this is not a criticism; the Church has failed us in this endeavor. For many of us, we will have to look to the more saintly around us for guidance and instruction.

For us Christians, we will need to celebrate the Sacraments with purity of heart. The Christian Liturgy is intended to lead us more deeply into the Divine Presence via ritual and ceremony which alone can express the unspeakable depths and longings of the human heart. We will need clergy and layfolk alike whose art and craft can make that moment where time and space dissolve and unity, if even partial, with the Divine is as real as the air we breathe.

We will need to “read, mark and inwardly digest” the Scriptures and the Sacred Tradition of the Church so that we know what they really say instead of the pabulum we have been fed for centuries. We will need scholars and teachers, philosophers and coaches to feed our minds as the clergy are called to feed our souls. And we will need open, nonjudgmental ears to hear the depths of our souls as we try to sort out, individually and collectively, the emotions and thoughts which will bubble up inside us.

The most difficult thing for us as Christians, though for the life of me I can’t understand why, will be to overcome our suspicion and fear of those who vision God in a manner different than our own. We will need to – because it’s reality! – see those of the other great Faiths as sisters and brothers whose experience of the Divine is just as valid and real as our own. We will need to gather and pray together – both corporately as well as in ways faithful to our own Traditions - in sincerity and truth. We will all together need to understand and affirm that our perceptions of the Divine can only ever be partial because we are limited in our humanity and that those of another Faith may have a more profound insight into God than we do and us for them. And we must be prepared to offer the profundity of our own Tradition. We will need to listen and hear with new ears to the witness of “the other” without trying to convert the other to our way of belief. For us as Americans this means that Jews, Christians and Muslims will need to affirm those things that unite them and deal with the things over which they have differing opinions at another time – if they’re still important then. And it means that we of the Abrahamic Faiths will need to offer the same openness to the rest of the Faithful. We may even need to be open to the witness of those who inhabited this continent for thousands of years before the Europeans showed up. Their witness is an invaluable part of Faith tradition.

OK, so maybe there is the possibility of resurrection; not just Jesus rising from the tomb almost two thousand years ago but also our own – rooted deeply in his. But we probably won’t see it in our own time. But we can plant the seeds. The time of planting is now. Where do we go from here?

The choice is ours.

THE 6TH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY - 13 February 2011

Preached at St. Clement’s Church, Seattle

The Gospel: Matthew 5:21-37
Jesus said, "You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, `You shall not murder'; and `whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.' But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, `You fool,' you will be liable to the hell of fire. So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny. "You have heard that it was said, `You shall not commit adultery.' But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell. "It was also said, `Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.' But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery. "Again, you have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, `You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.' But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. Let your word be `Yes, Yes' or `No, No'; anything more than this comes from the evil one.

Well, isn’t THAT a cheery little Gospel?! I read this early in the week and thought, “Oh, gee, thanks. I REALLY wanna preach on THAT!” Of course, I was reading the lesson online while on another window I was watching Al Jazeera English and had CNN on the TV. I’ve spent any free time this week glued to the television watching the story unfold in Egypt. I’ve found it fascinating, at times quite moving and at others just downright profound.



As I’ve watched the demonstrators in Liberation Square being interviewed I realized that, if one doesn’t know what’s going on, one could think these people are stark raving loonie. They scream and they yell and they sound hysterical. But then I had to remember that people in the Middle East talk that way. They speak in hyperbole which is rich, flowery, sometimes intense language used to say what we say in brief, direct language. They think we’re rude. We think they’re nuts.

I remember back twenty-odd years ago when the First Gulf War began. When war had been decided upon, Saddam Hussein screamed, “This will be the Mother of all Wars!!! We will defeat the Great Satan and drive him into the sea!!! We will be victorious!!!” Now, Saddam was many thins, including nuts, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew very well that his military couldn’t defeat the United States. And had we been willing to do so, we could’ve chosen to understand what he was really saying using Middle Eastern hyperbole: “You’re going to attack us. We’re going to defend ourselves. And it’s not gonna be pretty.” Instead, we chose to ignore Saddam’s presentation and attacked with both barrels - taking him quite literally.

I’m married to a Jewish person who long before we met had converted to the Episcopal Church. But when we first got together, I thought his family was insane. All they did was scream at each other. I thought they all hated each other. Turns out, they’re a very loving family. My spouse bought me a book on how to translate Jewish. It helped a lot so that when my mother-in-law screamed, “Oy! It’s d’ end of d’voild! Nobody’s suffahed like I’ve suffahed!” I knew she actually just wasn’t feeling well that day.

And Jesus was a Jew. And he spoke in hyperbole just like Jews have for millennia. And his audience knew that but we sometimes forget. So, in this morning’s Gospel, Jesus sounds rather intense and off the wall, but he had no expectation, nor did his audience, that they would all go home, gouge out their eyes and cut off their hands. He also knew that just looking lustfully at a woman who wasn’t one’s wife wasn’t really adultery. But he was trying to make a point.

And Jesus also was pretty clear about the consequences. HELL! FIRE! DAMNATION!!! Well maybe.

Actually, the historical Jesus had no concept of hell. Neither did he seem all that concerned with the afterlife. It seems to be a given that eventually all would be reunited with the Divine. And when he speaks about the Kingdom of Heaven, he’s not talking about the next life. He’s talking about this life.



Hell wasn’t a concept for Jews of Jesus time nor does present day Judaism. Actually, the ancient Hebrews had no sense of afterlife at all. When you were dead, you were dead. Case closed. Let’s move on. It’s not until after the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai and Hebrew religion morphs into Judaism that the idea of Sheol starts to take form. Everybody went there: the good, the bad and the ugly. It was a place of shadows. There wasn’t any suffering but it wasn’t much fun either. It was like living in a low ceilinged cave with bad lighting or like being stuck in Tacoma in November.



Some substantial time before Jesus, the Pharisees came on the scene. They believed in Sheol but also that at the Last Day God would raise the righteous from the dead and the rest would just go into oblivion. By the time of Jesus, all three concepts were popular as well as a lot of mixing of all three. There was no central doctrine at all nor was it a great topic of conversation. Neither was there a sense of hell in the Church until the Third Century when the Church started to get too big to manage and the Bishops had to find some form of crowd control. But it wasn’t until St. Jerome came along in the Fourth Century and translated the Bible from Greek, Hebrew and Aramaic into Latin that things got firmed up. Jerome, a political animal as much as a scholar, chose to use the word “inferno” to translate the Aramaic word “Gehenna.” And Gehenna wasn’t hell. Gehenna was Jerusalem’s version of Waste Management. We don’t often think about it, but people in every time and culture have had to figure out how to get rid of their garbage. Jerusalem was no exception. Gehenna was outside the city walls and consisted of huge fires which burned 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 52 weeks a year for years and years and years. So, when one went into town, one put their garbage into their little, white plastic grocery bag and while out and about stopped by Gehenna, gave the bag to the attendant who then put it on a cart. Eventually, the cart was tossed on one of the fires and that was that.

Using hyperbole, Jesus in this morning’s Gospel is very definite and firm about one thing: human relationships. He’s saying that we are to treat each other with respect, compassion, mercy, advocacy and forgiveness. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. There are no exceptions. And he uses the only way he knew how to get the point across. And his audience knew what he was talking about. He wasn’t telling them that they’d burn for eternity because of an angry, petty deity. He was telling them that living a life of abusing others cuts one’s self off from God. God isn’t cut off from us. God is always there. But if we choose to live abusive and coercive lives, we distort our relationship with God and to the real meaning of life. And such a relationship is just as painful as sitting in the middle of the fires of Gehenna.

This seemingly hideous Gospel reading is actually a diatribe about hope because the reason Jesus insists that our relationships be honest and compassionate is because that’s how God is with us. One could use hyperbole and say, “God’s compassion and love for the human race is so great that no one could ever imagine it. It’s beyond any human comprehension! If one sat and thought about God’s eternal mercy for all time, one couldn’t begin to comprehend it!” OK. Maybe it’s not hyperbole. Maybe, just maybe, it’s the truth!



As I watched Al Jazeera this week, I was moved on Sunday when the Copts showed up. The Copts are the ancient Egyptian Christians who’ve been there since around the Sixth Century and make up about ten percent of the Egyptian population. They’re Eastern Orthodox of sorts and, while one can recognize the same basic structure of the liturgy as our Mass, it’s really weird! All sorts of strange customs and the like which seem very odd to us. On Sunday, several priests showed up with an Altar and all the paraphernalia to celebrate the Eucharist for the Copts in Liberation Square. And as the liturgy got underway, they were surrounded by a huge mob of Muslims. But these Muslims weren’t there to heckle or endanger the Copts. They were there to protect them. They understood that what was going on was holy and, while they might worship God in a different way, they all worshipped together. These folks understood what Jesus was saying. It was an instinctive reaction. They may look at Jesus differently than we do, but they knew deep inside the message that he preached. And in that brief moment, a moment of mended and caring relationship, the Kingdom was in full swing.

So, when you get home this afternoon, don’t go taking a meat cleaver to your body parts, although I’ve heard stories of some of our Fundamentalist brethren and sistren doing just that. Understand what the Bible really says. Understand what Jesus really means. Live lives of mutual respect and love. Care for each other with no strings attached. Love wastefully and lavishly especially the unloved and the lonely. Advocate for the poor and the homeless. Work for racial and ethnic equality. Embrace the outcasts because they really aren’t. They’re us. Remember how important our relationship is to God, the God who took on human flesh and became one of us in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.