It’s all about Grace

Stewardship Sermon: St. Barnabas Episcopal Church

October 17, 2010

Jacob Wrestles with God

I'm sure if you have turned on the news at all since Tuesday you are aware of the dramatic rescue of the 33 miners from Chile. I don't get to see the TV much these days, but even I saw it. I was sitting by myself eating lunch in a restaurant, with the TV on showing the rescue of the miners. They first showed a replay of one of the miners, coming out of the capsule and kneeling down on the ground, folding his hands and praying. Then they went "live" to miner 19 who got out of the capsule and was waving to the crowd with a great big smile on his face, looking like he just won the Super Bowl.

Both of these men were grateful and they both showed it in very different ways. But I wondered who they were grateful to. To whom were they showing their gratitude: the rescuers, their families, the media, God? How does a person even begin to show gratitude for their very life! I imagine that they are feeling grateful just to be alive, to be above ground again, to just be able to see! It must have seemed like they were resurrected, given a New Life—just plain and simple gift, undeserved Grace that hundreds of other miners trapped underground over the years never got. Pure, unearned, undeserved, unmerited Grace—just to be alive!

In our first reading this morning we have an Old Testament story of struggle that I think might be comparable to the story of the miners. We see Jacob, one of the Patriarchs of Israel, traveling through the desert, and he spends a night wrestling with a divine being. This isn't just some high school sport he's engaging in here. He is alone in the absolute dark and he is fighting for his life with someone that seems to be from another world—good or bad he really didn't know—he only knew it was strong. He kept wrestling, never giving up, fighting for his life and somehow he wins—though not without getting injured. But at least he is alive.

But he won't let this guy go, no way, Jacob didn't want to struggle for nothing, so when the man asks him to let him go, for the dawn is breaking (an indication that this is probably some otherworldly being—and not just any old bandit)—Jacob presses him for a blessing. Jacob has a sense that this is no ordinary creature, but God (or an angel of God.) And he wants a blessing, a gift, a grace from God. And what does God do, he blesses Jacob with a new name—this means a new existence, a new reason for being, he is no longer the old self—no, he is now to be called Israel, Israel—a name which means someone who has wrestled with both God and humans and has won—his new name, and therefore his new identity –his new life is to be one who wrestles with God and humans and wins! So he asks his adversary what his name is—but God doesn't reveal the Divine name to Jacob, but instead God blesses him, again, this time with the assurance that this is in fact the Divine that he has wrestled with. And Jacob names the place—"the place where I saw God 'face to face' and lived" (for no one who saw God face to face could live). It was a holy place, this place of struggle—and it was also a place where Jacob could have died but instead he has been given a new life. Jacob has been and is again being blessed by God and he has much to be grateful for.

We are discussing this month the "3 G's" of Grace, Gratitude and Generosity! And these flow one from the other. First comes Grace—the grace of God—undeserved, un-asked for, unmerited. We have all been blessed by God. And if we don't know we are Graced (blessed) how can we be grateful. If we are not aware of the many blessings and gifts we have received from God, then how can we really be grateful to God? And further, once we acknowledge deep within our hearts that all that we are and all that we have and will ever have and be is a complete and totally free Grace from God—what else can we do but be grateful—what else can we do but live our life in Gratitude to the God who has given us all we are and have. And I don't mean the half hearted "thank-you" we get from the kids when we are teaching them to be polite. I mean the gratitude shown on the entire body of that miner who knelt down in prayer to God—the one that said he saw both the devil and God when he was in that mine and he reached out for God. All that man could do was fall down on his knees, fold his hands and pray. Like Jacob, he knew he wrestled with forces far beyond himself and he lived to tell about it. Like Jacob, he found out he was not alone—the power of God was with him giving him new life, plucking him from the clutches of death, beating all the odds—he was alive!!

Why is it that we humans often don't realize how much we have been gifted and graced by God until we are in great danger? What was that old song lyric, "You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone"? And isn't that true, that so often we go on our way thinking we are pretty good stuff (and we are, God made us quite the piece of marvelous work!) but we don't thank the Creator, don't realize how good we've had it until we are, like Jacob, brought to a wrestling match at the brink of death; about to lose it all.
I think often we humans have this thing that says "I got my stuff through my own hard work and perseverance, I have earned everything I've got, no one has given me anything." Have you heard that said somewhere, sometime? So let me ask you, who gave us that gift of perseverance, of hard work, or the gifts of being good at Math, or communication, or logic or good with our hands? Was it our parents, or grandparents, or a teacher? But who really gave them? And through what merit of our own were we born where we are, to the family we are in, in this great country where we have the freedom to make what we can of ourselves? Who put us here? Trace the story back and you will see that it all goes back to God. Either that or its all some dumb luck, and frankly, I don't believe in luck. I believe in God! All that we are and all that we have we owe to God. Can we say, right now at this very moment, in the words of Psalm 116, "What shall I return to the Lord for all his bounty to me?" Can we say that we are grateful for all that we are right now, that all we are is from God?

And the Gratitude we give to God we give through our worship. Just like the patriarchs, like Jacob, we offer our thanks by worship. The patriarchs built altars and burnt the best they had as an offering to God—their cattle, their grain; the first and best of the produce and flocks, not the leftovers—they gave worship in their offering. We do the same in our liturgy now. We bring our gifts of bread and wine, and we add to that the offering of our lives in the form of our offering of what we have made (in this day and age it is our money) and we take our gifts up to the altar. They are all accepted by the priest and offered on our behalf as our worship to God. This offering is giving back to God what God has given us,—and we are asked to worship God fully by giving as generously as we have been gifted by God. Giving back to God with the same generosity with which God has given to us. Generosity is a fruit of the Spirit (a sign that the spirit of God is truly at work in us or in a situation).

So that is how we bring together our theme for this stewardship month. God has graced us with all we are and have. In gratitude we give back to God through our worship. We give our gifts back to God and God enables us to give generously through the Spirit of God that lives in us! It's about us giving back to God our Gratitude with Generosity.
I ask you today to put yourself in the place of those miners—imagine their gratitude, imagine the immensity of the miracle that has saved them. What great purpose does God have in mind for them? Now I want you to KNOW that God has saved you and gifted you just as much as God has gifted them: absolutely no less. What great purpose does God have in mind for YOU? We are just as graced; we are to be just as grateful moved by the Spirit to great generosity.

Star Trek and the Gospel of John

Sermon: Fifth Sunday of Easter

    I am a fan of Star Trek; both TV and the movies. I was very happy that last year a new Star Trek Movie came out; saw it the very first weekend and I'm sure I will see it again and again on DVD. One thing that has always intrigued me on Star Trek is the "beam me up, Scotty" thing. Wouldn't that be wonderful to be able to get transported wherever you needed to go in the blink of an eye? (It sure would have made these last 3 years in seminary much easier—I could have just called my husband and said, "Beam me back to Cincinnati, Honey", and there I would be!) A close corollary to this is their ability to time travel, something that played a prominent role in this most recent movie. It would be a wonderful way to learn about history first-hand: as long as you didn't alter the space/time continuum and thereby change the very history you are trying to learn! Star Trek has always gotten my imagination going—I suppose I could say, "Boldly going …where no one has gone before."

    In our Gospel reading today we are doing a bit of time traveling with Jesus and the disciples. Though we are celebrating the resurrection, our reading takes us back to the events of the last supper and Jesus' final discourse to the disciples in John's Gospel. Jesus' words here occur at the very height of the drama of the evening. In the middle of the meal, Jesus has just washed the disciples' feet. And the "disciples" in John's Gospel really mean all of us who follow Jesus, the whole community, not just the "Twelve" or the leaders of the community: Jesus is talking to us seated right here at St. Barnabas. Jesus has just demonstrated by his example that true discipleship, truly being a follower of Jesus, means hospitality and service, which is what foot washing meant in Jesus' day. At the end of this very caring and intimate scene, Jesus begins talking about one of his disciple's betrayal. And as our Gospel begins today with the words, "When he had gone out …" The "he" that just stormed out of the room is Judas! So the scene we walk in on is the moment of high drama when the music comes up, loud cymbal crashes are heard and everyone is looking at Jesus to see what he will say next. Something like the high tension of battle in a Star Trek movie! Will Jesus say, "Beam me up Father!"

    And so Jesus begins telling his followers of his impending departure; and that they cannot come where he is going. He begins his last words to his disciples, to us; telling us what we need to know to follow him and walk in his ways. But there is more than that; it is his description of what we need to know to carry on his work and how to carry on a relationship with God the Father; a relationship like the one that he has. We are now to be included in that relationship: but without Jesus we won't know how.

    What does he tell us to do? He tells us to "love one another." As a matter of fact, he tells us 3 times: "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." Do you think maybe Jesus thought we would have trouble getting it, so he had to say it 3 times? I think so! And yet 2000 years later it almost sounds trite. But it is the #1 message in all of John's Gospel—the whole Gospel reduced to one command! Love one another!

    Jesus is inviting the disciples—us; you and me—into a relationship with him and with God the Father. Jesus is giving us an imperative, in the face of his own impending death, which he knew full well, and in the aftermath of Judas leaving to betray him. He tells us that what is of utmost importance, the way that we will know if we are truly doing what he asks of us, is that we have love for one another: Love one another. He calls this his new commandment and we can also say his only commandment—that we should love one another. And he wants it to be in both word and deed.

    Now there are a thousand things that Jesus could have told us was the most important thing for us to do. He could have told us to "resist sin" or he could have said "pray daily" but he didn't. He told us to love one another. Now this is a simple and a complicated thing. Simple, because every moment of every day we can usually tell what the loving thing is to do in most situations; at least after a little reflection. It's complicated, because doing it is another matter all together. Very often we know the loving thing to do, but we are too tired, too busy, too self absorbed or just plain too lazy to do it. It can sometimes be much easier to love your enemies, who may be a world away, than to love the person in the same pew, or in the next cubicle or even in our own household! But Jesus is very clear—he says it three times for God's sake—that this is the measure of discipleship—that we love one another. So much so that other people will recognize us as Jesus' followers—right here, right now.

    This is something we can do. How do I know that? I know it because Jesus tells us so. We can do this, "with God's help" as we say in the Baptismal promises. Jesus in his resurrected life is still with us, the Spirit is still with us, no Star Trek time travel is needed here. They unite us to God who makes it possible for us to do, "infinitely more than we can ask or imagine." The Spirit of Jesus is already with us and will always be with us—we are assured of this in our Baptism, we are "sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ's own for ever" –sealed with the Spirit who will help us to accomplish this life of love, in word and deed. The Spirit of God urges us on to love in both word and deed.

    Secondly, I know we can do this because we are already doing it; we already love one another. For some of us it is what keeps us coming back week after week. We see that love in action right here at St. Barnabas. And this week, when you go about your day, I want to ask you to notice those acts of love—oh, you don't have to make a big deal about it, but just look around for love in action. Everything from the simple act of holding the door for someone counts, all the way to caring for someone in need, the sick or the broken hearted. A kind word, an unexpected surprise—see how many acts of love are already occurring in your world, your family and here at St. Barnabas.

    "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." Let us right here at St. Barnabas be disciples more and more each day. Let no one come into our doors unnoticed and unwelcomed. Let it be so obvious that they can say of us the words of our reading from the Book of Revelation, "See, the home of God is among mortals."

But not just within these doors. Jesus meant us to carry this message of love in word and works to the world. Let us be known as those who bring this message to a world in need of so much—physically, and spiritually—a world that still begs for Jesus' presence—and we are the ones he has sent to accomplish the work he was able to do when he walked among us. We are called to continue his work of love: in building Habitat Homes, at Findlay Street, in Northside, in donating our time, talent and treasure. Jesus has shown us that in giving what we have and who we are—we find the true meaning of life—unity with God.

    And so, as we continue on our voyage on the Star Ship Barnabas (?), caught in our own time and space, let us "boldly go where no one has gone before." Well, maybe we need to revise that—"let us boldly go where Jesus has gone before." Let us live the love of God daily, at our work, in our homes and also here in church—as they say on Star Trek, Jesus says to us—"Make it so!"

    
 

    

Good Friday Sermon: Behold the Cross

April 2, 2010

    Good Friday isn't always a popular day in the church calendar, as you can see from the numbers that come to church today! I can't see as I blame people, either, for Good Friday is really a difficult day. They say that, as a culture, we tend to avoid things that are difficult, like pain and death, and, frankly, that's what Good Friday is all about: pain and death.

    In our society, we have lots of ways to avoid the painful things we are going through like televisions with thousands of channels, commercials that tell us that this cream will hide the tell-tale signs of aging, and even in our religious institutions we tend to avoid death by telling people that the deceased has "gone to a better place".

    Today Jesus takes our cultural notions about pain and death and turns them on their head. Not that he's saying that pain and death are good—but that they are necessary for life. Those of us that avoid the hard stuff: that avoid dealing with the hurts of our dysfunctional childhoods; that won't face the baggage from our previous marriages; or that won't deal with the conflict in our relationships; who won't deal with pain, or won't feel our pain, avoiding it with alcohol or constant distractions, are avoiding those places where God is ready and waiting to meet us. Jesus on this day reveals to us a God who was so willing to take on our human condition that he was willing to feel pain, and betrayal, and abandonment, and ultimately death; all parts of being human and not parts of being God. He encountered these things, lived them, and died them in order to show us that God is there with us too. In the most painful situations we can imagine, God has been there, God is there, and God will always be there. There is no place that God is not willing to go for us, that is how great God's love and care is for us. And in being there with us in the pain and grief, not in taking it away—for we know that ultimately we cannot avoid pain, suffering and death—in being there and letting us experience it, we can move to a new and resurrected life.

We hear in Psalm 22 the cry of the psalmist, "My God, why have you forsaken me?" and yet in verse 9 of that psalm we hear a surprising, "yet you are the one who took me out of the womb and kept me safe on my mother's breast". The psalmist tells us God is like the midwife who delivered us—brought us out of that place, childbirth, that is the closest connection between life and death we have all felt—the closeness to death of both the mother and the child that the moment of new life brings. It is God the Midwife who will deliver us, literally and metaphorically, God will pluck us from the realm of death and bring us to a new life—a new birth into the light! Isn't that an amazing image for those of us who have given birth and also for those of us who have seen or been a part of that birth giving process?

But today is the day to dwell on entering that pain, whatever it may be in our life. For some of us it is actual physical pain; what Jesus felt. That pain may be our own, or it may be in the helplessness we feel in being with a family member or friend who is in pain and finding ourselves absolutely helpless. For some of us it is psychological pain, the pain and stigma of mental illness or depression that we just can't crawl out of, or the pain of relationships that just keep getting worse and again we are powerless to be able to fix things. And some of us know the pain of a child who is lost or hurting and again we are powerless to help the way we want to. Powerlessness is part of being human and Jesus shows us, in entering that powerlessness, that ultimately the only one who truly has the power is God: we can trust in and count on that. Because no matter how afraid we are, Jesus assures us we do not go through it without God. No matter how lonely and abandoned we may feel, ultimately we are not alone: God is there.

    This day we are assured that as we take up our cross and follow Jesus (the cross of caring for family members; carrying those broken places in ourselves; or in experiencing the death of a loved one or facing our own death) it is only in carrying our cross and following Jesus that we can know eternal life—the cross is the way.

    Behold the cross—it is our salvation.

The Lost Coin (Luke 15)

The Lost Coin--A Poem

She sweeps once again

“Where can that darn shekel be?”

God can you find me?