Incense and Toilet Paper

Matthew 13:54-58

Sermon for Friday Eucharist Bexley Hall

10/23/09 James the Just

 

Good morning! I have titled this sermon "Incense and Toilet Paper!" after the email Audra sent out to the entire community earlier this week. It seems to me that those two things, which seem so contradictory in their symbolism and use, speak a lot about today, the feast of St. James, the brother of Jesus.

Incense: Today we have incense because today is a big deal on our church calendar, a Red Letter Day! James the Just, the brother of Jesus, was a pillar of the church in Jerusalem. He didn't believe in his brother before Jesus died. Like most brothers, I suppose, he saw his slipups: those times he tried to turn water into wine but just got grape juice; the first times he tried healing a blind man and had to do it a couple of times before it "took"; and he was probably outside that little house where Jesus was teaching, with his sisters and his mother, telling Jesus to stop all this teaching nonsense and just come home. Jesus was probably talking to him, and probably hurt James' feelings when he said: "My brothers and sisters are those who hear the word of God and keep it." And we hear it in today's Gospel, "they took offense at him …where did he get all this...isn't he the carpenter's son?" This is what sometimes happens when you go home. …

And we are told by Paul in our second reading today that after his resurrection Jesus appeared to James—and James did believe in him. James believed in him so much that he became head of the church in Jerusalem. He believed in Jesus so much that others looked to him for leadership in the early church; James was even regarded by the Pharisees as a good and holy man. The Pharisees!!

And so we use incense today to remember that this is a special day, special smells, great people remembered, pillars of the church, that still hold us up today.

Toilet paper—You may think of toilet paper as the most vulgar of things, made to be used in the most vulgar of tasks and then thrown away. But imagine life without it …imagine having to get by on one roll a month, just one roll. Now imagine someone in the house is sick with the runs and you still only get one roll per person. Oh, yeah, your grandparents used to kid that you could always use the Sears catalogue—but they don't print that catalogue anymore, and my Boy Scout sons will tell you that wiping with leaves can be a risky business if you can't spot poison ivy!

There are people today who can't even afford toilet paper, people in Columbus, Cincinnati and all over the country who used to be able to afford lots of things and now are wondering where their next meal is coming from. I heard their stories all summer when I worked at the food pantry at CAIN, attached to St Philip Episcopal Church. I was shocked, stunned and some days I went home and cried because the stories I heard were of people that couldn't figure a way out of poverty—and I couldn't help them. If I were in their situation, I wouldn't be able to figure a way out either. Oh, I could give them some food, some toilet paper and toiletries but I couldn't figure a way out of the cycle. It seemed like just a tiny Band-Aid on a huge gushing wound that was their life—and it made me very sad. One day when I was in charge of the pantry so a staff member could get a night off, one of the volunteers came to me to say that someone had stolen a package of toilet paper—a big package of toilet paper. She was so angry that someone had gotten around the system and stole the toilet paper—how could they be so low. I tried to calm her down, told her it was alright they must have really needed it, but she was still incensed—incensed! Someone was so desperate they had to steal toilet paper—they must have been desperate! I was incensed that someone was made so desperate they had to steal toilet paper—why can't you buy it with food stamps—it surely is a necessity. How can anyone get by on one role? (I have told this story at St. Barnabas, my home parish, and I've had several women tell me that now they can't see a roll of toilet paper without thinking of me—and of people trying to get by on one roll a month! They can't see a roll of toilet paper without thinking of me … I think that's a compliment—isn't it?)

In today's reading from Acts, we have the pivotal Council of Jerusalem, in which James plays a leading role. They are discussing a theological question that is, in essence, a bodily question—do the Gentiles have to be circumcised in order to become Christians? And James says, no; we are saved by the grace of Jesus Christ. I think James, in that moment could have been an Anglican. They say, our Anglican "Divines" do, that we are very Incarnational in our theology. And when they say Incarnation, they don't only mean Jesus but our incarnation—our body—we encounter God in our bodily existence. We do not seek to subdue the body or transcend it—we experience God in our bodily existence—God in our flesh. We experience God in the hug of a loved one, in the birth of a child, in sickness or bodily healing, in walking, running, or a glass of wine…and a loaf of bread.

Incense and Toilet paper—It can be easier sometimes to encounter God in church, with song and words and incense. It's easier for us modern folks, to encounter Jesus as "fully God", resurrected with a glorious body, sitting at the right hand of our Creator—out there somewhere—glorious--yet distant—immortal--unapproachable! It's much more threatening, I think, to remember and to encounter the "fully human" part of Jesus—God Incarnate—God in the flesh. I am sure Jesus has not forgotten what it was like to be in the flesh. I am sure that Jesus has not forgotten what it was like to have a body … what it was like to have a brother, who wrote you off as a crazy person. I am sure Jesus has not forgotten what is was like to fall down and be hurt, to be lost, questioning and tempted. And I'm sure Jesus remembers what it was like to have to urinate and defecate and to have the runs—and he understands our modern need for toilet paper. He taught us to pray for bread, that most basic of human needs—he knew what it was like to be hungry, to be thirsty, to be in want, to be in need. And he knew what it was like to die—the most universal of all human experiences. He knew what it was like to gasp for breath, to be abandoned, to be abandoned with nothing, not even God….How very human …

I invite you into that place today, that place that is within you that is filled with the humanness of Jesus; the place of smells, good and bad; the place of desires, sacred and profane; the place of feelings, easy and hard. I invite you to ponder with me, the 'fully human' of Jesus; that humanness in Jesus that we encounter in each other each day, whether we like it or not; to experience today that in the incense that we raise to the all powerful, all knowing, impenetrable God—is also found the God who humbled himself to be the servant of all; that the "fully human" Jesus shares all your humanness, and wants you to share it with him as well. I invite you to experience the Jesus who is closer to you than your very breath, your gasping for breath, the panting of your breath. That there is nothing too mundane to ask for: bread, incense, toilet paper. That in the incense we do not distance ourselves from Jesus, but rather know that with each breath, pleasant or not, he is with us, closer than in the smoke in our nostrils, more intimate than the roll of the toilet paper to a sick person. Intimate….Incense …Toilet paper….Let us take a moment of silence right now to be present to our bodies, our breath and that life of God that fills us and surrounds us each and every day of our life.

(Silence)

Amen.

Sermon for Sunday, September 6, 2009

I am trying to post sermons I preach. For my own edification I suppose. And also to spark conversation with anyone who would like to comment or dialogue. So, here is the first of what I hope will be a continuing conversation and archive:    

This week I went back to St. Philip parish in Northside and volunteered at the food pantry (CAIN). It was hard being back for many reasons. One is that I miss the people, especially the staff who have been so welcoming and appreciative of what I have done. Second is that I miss the guests at the food pantry. Now maybe it seems hard to believe that I could miss people who are down on their luck, live from day to day and have nothing but the clothes on their back to their name—but that would be misunderstanding what I have learned and the people I have come to know. The guests are also very kind and considerate, and are willing to give their last dollar to help another if they can. Their faith and trust that God can and will get them through their next challenge is inspirational. Oh, there are a few “operators”, but they are basically good at heart too.

But I think what also made it hard for me, was the people I met for the first time on Thursday: one gentleman in particular looked just like an old family friend, long since dead. He had grey hair and a bright red face and was unshaven. He seemed embarrassed, as most of the people do on their first time there. After filling out his information and learning he had lost his job, I asked if there was anything else I could do for him. He answered that if I could just get him a lead on a job he would be very grateful. I couldn’t do that, and all the information I had to give him were for places he had already tried with no success. I saw him later, loading up his truck with groceries and he just couldn’t stop thanking me—he was overwhelmed with the generosity and care that had been shown him at CAIN. "

People don’t just come to the food pantry for food. Many times people come needing help paying their utility bills, so they won’t be shut off—but CAIN can’t do that this month because there is just no money. Some come asking for bus tokens to get them to the doctor or to a job interview—but there will be no bus tokens until January—again CAIN is out of money for all but food right now. We only had a few bottles of shampoo, and luckily the toilet paper shelf was filled—but every guest comes needing that. It was hard for me to say, “I’m sorry but I can’t help you with that this month—but I’ll pray for you and blessings to you.” It sounded a lot like our reading today from the letter of James—and it sounded like just what James said not to do. “If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill’ and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So, faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.”

That is what was the hardest for me: over the year I have been at St. Philip times have gotten harder for many people—some of them right here in these pews—and it’s gotten even harder in the inner city—as they say, IT always runs downhill

Now I’m not so sure any of us would actually be so harsh as to ignore someone in need right in front of us. I can’t imagine any of us, seeing someone who needed something to eat right here in our midst wouldn’t run down the hall and pack them up a bag full of Panera and all the coffee they could drink. We are all good people, caring people. We don’t want to see people go hungry; we want to help; and so many of us have helped here at St. Barnabas already: Findlay Street, Habitat for Humanity, Church School, Coffee Hour and Panera Bread. And the response to requests for help at St. Philip and the CAIN food pantry has been very encouraging.

The readings for today call us to get involved. They speak to us of the goal—the reign, or kingdom, of God. Our first reading speaks in poetic language of what every wanderer in the desert longs for: springs of water—what is needed even more desperately than food when you live in an arid land like Israel. And in our second reading, James tells us that we must feed people not just in Spirit but bodily—he lays out for us that the Christian life is about extending Christ’s concern for the world to each individual person; to what they need most. And if they need food or clothes then forget about wishing their spirits well—they are empty words and totally miss the point. And the point is the visible “works of mercy” that each one of us is called to do in the world: and the operative word here is DO! We must start with prayer, it is most important and I’m usually up here preaching about prayer in one way or another, yes, start with our relationship with God, but it must lead us to action in the church and the world, or our faith is dead—says James. To put it in a positive light—faith that is real and alive shows itself in what we do for those in need.

A quote I’d like to share from Sr. Thea Bowman, an African American Franciscan Nun, who is being considered for sainthood by RomeI think the difference between me and some people is that I'm content to do my little bit. Sometimes people think they have to do big things in order to make change. But if each one would light a candle we'd have a tremendous light- Sister Thea Bowman African-American Franciscan (1937-1990) Sometimes the problems facing our country and world seem so big, we don’t know where to begin, but as Sr. Thea says, little things make a difference.

Then we get to our Gospel: The first part of which is one of my favorites—the story of the Syrophoenician woman. I would call her “The Uppity Woman”! She is one of the faithful women who inhabit the Gospel of Mark. This story is one of several in Mark that show that Jesus’ acceptance of women, and the women’s faithfulness to him, qualifies them to be participants in the Messianic banquet (the Kingdom); symbolically giving them a place at the table. Jesus as the host of the banquet in the Reign of God includes all, Jew and Gentile; women and men; clean and defiled; all are welcomed by Jesus.Do you know that she is the only person in the Gospel of Mark that “gets the best” of Jesus in an argument? She beats him at his own game, declaring, when he tells her in effect that she is a dog not deserving of his ministry (really mimicking what the people of his day thought of women and Gentiles); she speaks up and comes back with the remark that even the dogs get the scraps under the table. She shows this important Rabbi, who has silenced the Pharisees with his words, that she is no wimp—yes, she may be a dog but she needs what he has got—the healing power of God for her daughter—and she won’t shut up until she gets it.

(Do you notice how many times the Gospels compare prayer to people, mainly women, who won’t shut up until they get what they need? That is how we are to approach God in prayer. Keep at it, keep at it … See, I usually preach about prayer.)Again we see in the Syrophoenician woman, that her faith in Jesus to give what her daughter needs, just won’t quit. It is shown in a persistent “do something” attitude. And her persistence pays off—for her daughter and for us who read about her. The same thing occurs with the deaf man—his friends “do something”; begging Jesus to get him help. Their faith is put forth in action: action on behalf of those in need. As stated in our own Baptismal covenant, we will seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves.Their small actions result in miracles by God.

We can let our small actions result in miracles by God too. First, Pray for St. Philip Church and the people of CAIN. They are in desperate need of big funds and little, so if you have resources, please see me and I’ll put you in touch with them. Second, a small action, a small light that put together can have a big effect. And here it is, Bags for CAIN.(Here I described a service project to collect toiletries for Churches Active in Northside. It resulted in over two vanloads of supplies for the pantry.)

Sometimes the day just doesn't turn out the way you thought ...

"As for me, I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come.  I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing." 2 Timothy 4:6-8 

We are all in shock. Rob was such a remarkable man and truly a gift to so many. We will miss him, but none more than you his family. I pray that God will be close to you in your grief. God is great! And we look forward to the day when we will all be together again, Rob cheering the boys on--and a big Happy Gram is posted on the pearly gates of Heaven.

Sincerely, The Young's--Linda, Chris, Chris and Ben

     This was what I wrote Saturday on the Care Pages site for my son's teacher/coach who died that day: losing an 8 month battle with cancer. The teacher, Rob, was a great guy. I don't think I have ever heard a complaint about him. He was a gym teacher in the elementary school and I remember my son Chris coming home in first grade waiving above his head a colorful piece of paper that said Happy Gram. All the kids in the class eventually got one--but he gave them on a day a particular kid really needed a boost, or on a day that a kid tried super hard. They, and he, meant the world to my sons. Without a doubt their favorite teacher; ever.

   So, how do you talk to your 11 and 13 year old about the death of a man who is the same age as their Dad; younger than me? How do you talk to two rather anxious boys about the separation of death when they have trouble being in the basement alone? Sure, they have both experienced the death of their cat, their grandfather and grandmother--but they were old, and had lived full lives--okay, we're not sure about the cat but it was a relief to not have him throwing up fur balls all day.

     I'm not sure how to talk to myself about it. I believe in a resurrection of the dead--but so many times we turn this into a denial of death. Things and people end--even good things and good people. We need to mourn and feel sad. Denial never solves anything. I guess I'll have to pray about this for a while. I don't have any easy answers. Aren't clergy supposed to have the answers in these types of situations?

     I don't. Its painful, senseless and we all have a barrage of feelings. And the truth is, we clergy are nothing if we're not human.

   The best we can do is what Rob was a clear example of :  hold tight to family, pray, cling to God and live life to the fullest knowing someday we all will follow the way of death.

"Eternal rest grant on to him oh Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen."

Baptism over Skype

      The baptism this past Sunday at St. Philip Parish in Northside, Cincinnati, featured the ancient symbols of water and anointing combined with the modern technology of Skype. Two parishioners were baptized but the Godparents of little Xavion were not able to be there in person due to some medical issues that had come up the week before. Not letting a little thing like distance get in the way of welcoming new members to the Christian community, the Vicar Rev. Debbie Gamble asked her tech savvy daughter Lindy to see if she could come up with a solution. The answer was Skype, an application that allows voice and video calls over the internet for free. The application was already set up at the Godparent's house, since they had been using it to talk to and see relatives in Europe, and Lindy was already using Skype with her friends, so it was simple to put together. Sunday morning found them with a few minor glitches, like not having audio from the Godparents, but with a little help from some visitors, all was fixed and we could all see and hear each other just fine.

  

 We all listened and watched in person at the parish, which meets at the Churches Active in Northside (CAIN) site, and Sally and Karl (the Godparents) could hear everything over the internet and see it on their computer screen "live". When their moment came, we all heard clearly as they said, "I will, with God's help." It was a 21^st Century way of saying that nothing can stand between God's love and all of God's children. Water and oil on one end of the line; pixels and clicks on the other, and two new members were brought into God's family.

One Prayer Service Down ... And we danced.

     Inspiration hit me in the shower as it usually does and the prayer service came together for the retreat. But as usually happens, the retreatants are the ones that really run with it and make it have a life of its own. Today was the story of outsiders and God's invitation to all to come to the feast.We shared rice cakes, pretty purple yogurt and berry rice cakes, and remembered those who were outsiders in our society today; and those we knew who needed an invitation to come and be a part of God's banquet.

     I think we tend to forget that everyone is an outsider in some way. None of us are perfect, none of us really deserve all the bounteous gifts that our God bestows on us. It is God who loves us so generously. What else can we do when we are so loved, but love in return. And who should we love--well, who does our lover love? Everyone."We are all held in that same precious love..." as Julian of Norwich says.
    Matt 22 says, in the inclusive language translation, that the good and the bad came in to the feast. Loving the good and the bad--wow, that's a tall order.
   Oh, yeah, we danced ... What else can you do at a wedding feast but dance. At least that's what they did when I was growing up ...come to think of it that was the best part of Chris' and my wedding: lots of people danced, and we did too. And today we closed our prayer with the hymn "Lord of the Dance" and every one of us held hands and danced around the circle. (Now this was no "River Dance". Some folks could barely walk, but they did their best to dance, and they did pretty well.)
     That's how I image God these days. (While trying to hold together being a mother, preacher, retreat leader and seminarian. Some days I'm clicking along and other days I wake up needing a nap.) I image God dancing ...with me ...and God reaches for me ...  and I hold on ...and try to dance....and not step on God's feet ... too much!