December 24, 2011 - Christmas Eve
10:30 PM: Choral Prelude
11:00 PM: Festive Choral Eucharist
December 25, 2011 - Christmas Day
10:00 AM: Christmas Day Eucharist
All are welcome!
December 18, 2011 - Father Mark D. Stuart
May I speak in the Name of God Who is: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
The last candle is lit. Ready or not, Christmas is upon us. Ready or not, we will be back here Saturday night or Sunday morning to meet our Lord as He comes to us as a child… and to pray that we may continue to meet Him, as He comes to us in so many ways, at so many times. The Incarnation tells about who Jesus was and is: God. It also tells us about God, about the nature and character of God: that God is the sort of God who is not distant and far from us, far above us and out-of-reach. While God is the Almighty Creator far beyond our understanding, at the same time God is connected to us and one with us. The gap between the mortal and the divine is bridged in Christ.
It seems as though two sisters had been given parts in the annual Christmas pageant at their Church. At dinner that evening they got into an argument as to who had the most important role. Finally the 15 year-old said to her 10 year-old sister: “Well, you just ask Mom. She’ll tell you it’s much harder to be a virgin than it is to be an angel.”
The truth in the sister’s observation can be attested to in St. Luke’s Gospel It all began in an obscure village, in a remote province of the great Roman Empire, with a simple peasant girl. She was young. She had no impressive degrees, or resume, or achievements. She had no stature in the community. In order to be accepted and function socially at all she had to have a husband. The arrangement was made between two families and the couple remained apart, engaged for about a year before they got married. This was Mary’s situation when one day she had a surprising visitor.
The archangel Gabriel appears to Mary and salutes her: “Greetings, highly favored one!” (translated in the Latin Vulgate, “Hail Mary, full of grace!”) St. Luke says that Mary was “greatly troubled and considered in her mind what sort of greeting this might be”: You think?! what nonsense was this that the angelic messenger of almighty God was telling her, that she was “full of grace” and “highly favored.”!!! This wide-eyed peasant girl, though counseled by the angel, “do not be afraid,” must have been scared to death! Of course, one day she had plans to have a baby with her husband-to-be, Joseph… but the “Son of the Most High?!”
Can you imagine what the comfortable self-righteous establishment would have to say? Probably something like this: “Another unwed teenage mother for the welfare roles; no money, no education… see how these people are! And this one has hallucinations about angels to boot! Then she goes and has the kid in a filthy barn full of animals… she should be reported to Child Protective Services…Shame on her!"
It is in this wonderous story of the Annunciation that we must encounter the shame of Mary. Her shame is that so many rational, scientific-minded of the world raise their eyebrows, or even outright sneer at her being miraculously with child. Her shame is that so many today are no more sensitive to the condition of the humble and downtrodden than the brutal Roman occupiers of 1st cen. Palestine. And her shame as that simple Hebrew girl, is knowing that she is defenseless in the court of human rationality and the self-interests of the world.
But the key to Mary’s greatness, the central reason why she stands as first among the saints and why “from henceforth all generations will call her blessed” is her ability to listen, to hear the voice of God, and then to say “let it be to me according to your word.” She doesn’t do what Abraham and Sarah did when they got the news about Isaac being born to them in their advanced retirement, namely double over with hoots of laughter. She doesn’t do what any of us would probably do in such a situation; she doesn’t press Gabriel for a sign, or make excuses of personal defects in order to wrangle out of the deal, like Moses did. She doesn’t remind the Holy One, like Jeremiah did, that she is too young and unequal to the task. And unlike Jonah, she doesn’t try to run away and hide. Mary’s greatness is her choice to walk away from the secure future she had outlined for herself and into the frightening unknown future God offered her. That is hard; that is always hard.
We no doubt have plans for Christmas and for our families and for our lives. These plans should certainly include God. As Advent ends, we need to realize also that God has plans for us. We need to remember that, very often, it has been those times in our lives when things did not go as we had planned that God was most present, and the most real. We read about Mary’s consent to the freedom of God on this fourth Sunday of Advent, not only to fill us in on the details of Jesus’ birth, but also to consider whether our Advent ponderings have prepared us to make the Christmas consent to God becoming one of us. Do we have the strength of Mary to ponder the impossibility of God being with us as an outcast, hopeless, helpless infant?
Consenting to Christmas is difficult, but the real obstacle is not the big, bad ‘secular world’, as is so often suggested. Sure, the outrageous commercialism of the season distracts us from our Advent disciplines of pondering and preparing the way of the Lord, but our own busyness is not the real problem: God is… or rather God’s plan for us is. Saying ‘yes’ to ‘God with us’ is difficult because in order for us to get in touch with the impossible becoming possible, we have to be willing to critique our fear of being surprised by the unexpected… and then allow our conflicted selves to be amazed by the annunciations going on around us all the time. Through Mary we are modeled faith, heroic faith. Not faith that says ‘yes’ and then does nothing, but faith through which nothing will be impossible.
Mary, then, is not just the mother of Jesus, but our mother too… the mother of all believers. We, too, are touched, adopted, and grasped by the same Spirit which animated creation and the same Spirit which came upon Mary. We are impregnated by the same Spirit to have conceived within the womb of our souls, the same Jesus.
What good is it if Mary gave birth to a son 2,000 years ago and I do not give birth to Him in my own life, in my time, in my society? God is the initiator of change. God is on the side of the poor, humble, neglected, and oppressed… supremely represented in the person of blessed Mary. And we are to bear the Christ and bear witness to the saving acts of God by ministering to the world. Are we accepting, allowing, and assenting to the birth of Jesus Christ in our lives each day and are we taking that new birth to those people and those places where heroic Mary-like faith directs us to go? Our true validity as Christians of the Incarnation lies in the answer…
Amen.
The last candle is lit. Ready or not, Christmas is upon us. Ready or not, we will be back here Saturday night or Sunday morning to meet our Lord as He comes to us as a child… and to pray that we may continue to meet Him, as He comes to us in so many ways, at so many times. The Incarnation tells about who Jesus was and is: God. It also tells us about God, about the nature and character of God: that God is the sort of God who is not distant and far from us, far above us and out-of-reach. While God is the Almighty Creator far beyond our understanding, at the same time God is connected to us and one with us. The gap between the mortal and the divine is bridged in Christ.
It seems as though two sisters had been given parts in the annual Christmas pageant at their Church. At dinner that evening they got into an argument as to who had the most important role. Finally the 15 year-old said to her 10 year-old sister: “Well, you just ask Mom. She’ll tell you it’s much harder to be a virgin than it is to be an angel.”
The truth in the sister’s observation can be attested to in St. Luke’s Gospel It all began in an obscure village, in a remote province of the great Roman Empire, with a simple peasant girl. She was young. She had no impressive degrees, or resume, or achievements. She had no stature in the community. In order to be accepted and function socially at all she had to have a husband. The arrangement was made between two families and the couple remained apart, engaged for about a year before they got married. This was Mary’s situation when one day she had a surprising visitor.
The archangel Gabriel appears to Mary and salutes her: “Greetings, highly favored one!” (translated in the Latin Vulgate, “Hail Mary, full of grace!”) St. Luke says that Mary was “greatly troubled and considered in her mind what sort of greeting this might be”: You think?! what nonsense was this that the angelic messenger of almighty God was telling her, that she was “full of grace” and “highly favored.”!!! This wide-eyed peasant girl, though counseled by the angel, “do not be afraid,” must have been scared to death! Of course, one day she had plans to have a baby with her husband-to-be, Joseph… but the “Son of the Most High?!”
Can you imagine what the comfortable self-righteous establishment would have to say? Probably something like this: “Another unwed teenage mother for the welfare roles; no money, no education… see how these people are! And this one has hallucinations about angels to boot! Then she goes and has the kid in a filthy barn full of animals… she should be reported to Child Protective Services…Shame on her!"
It is in this wonderous story of the Annunciation that we must encounter the shame of Mary. Her shame is that so many rational, scientific-minded of the world raise their eyebrows, or even outright sneer at her being miraculously with child. Her shame is that so many today are no more sensitive to the condition of the humble and downtrodden than the brutal Roman occupiers of 1st cen. Palestine. And her shame as that simple Hebrew girl, is knowing that she is defenseless in the court of human rationality and the self-interests of the world.
But the key to Mary’s greatness, the central reason why she stands as first among the saints and why “from henceforth all generations will call her blessed” is her ability to listen, to hear the voice of God, and then to say “let it be to me according to your word.” She doesn’t do what Abraham and Sarah did when they got the news about Isaac being born to them in their advanced retirement, namely double over with hoots of laughter. She doesn’t do what any of us would probably do in such a situation; she doesn’t press Gabriel for a sign, or make excuses of personal defects in order to wrangle out of the deal, like Moses did. She doesn’t remind the Holy One, like Jeremiah did, that she is too young and unequal to the task. And unlike Jonah, she doesn’t try to run away and hide. Mary’s greatness is her choice to walk away from the secure future she had outlined for herself and into the frightening unknown future God offered her. That is hard; that is always hard.
We no doubt have plans for Christmas and for our families and for our lives. These plans should certainly include God. As Advent ends, we need to realize also that God has plans for us. We need to remember that, very often, it has been those times in our lives when things did not go as we had planned that God was most present, and the most real. We read about Mary’s consent to the freedom of God on this fourth Sunday of Advent, not only to fill us in on the details of Jesus’ birth, but also to consider whether our Advent ponderings have prepared us to make the Christmas consent to God becoming one of us. Do we have the strength of Mary to ponder the impossibility of God being with us as an outcast, hopeless, helpless infant?
Consenting to Christmas is difficult, but the real obstacle is not the big, bad ‘secular world’, as is so often suggested. Sure, the outrageous commercialism of the season distracts us from our Advent disciplines of pondering and preparing the way of the Lord, but our own busyness is not the real problem: God is… or rather God’s plan for us is. Saying ‘yes’ to ‘God with us’ is difficult because in order for us to get in touch with the impossible becoming possible, we have to be willing to critique our fear of being surprised by the unexpected… and then allow our conflicted selves to be amazed by the annunciations going on around us all the time. Through Mary we are modeled faith, heroic faith. Not faith that says ‘yes’ and then does nothing, but faith through which nothing will be impossible.
Mary, then, is not just the mother of Jesus, but our mother too… the mother of all believers. We, too, are touched, adopted, and grasped by the same Spirit which animated creation and the same Spirit which came upon Mary. We are impregnated by the same Spirit to have conceived within the womb of our souls, the same Jesus.
What good is it if Mary gave birth to a son 2,000 years ago and I do not give birth to Him in my own life, in my time, in my society? God is the initiator of change. God is on the side of the poor, humble, neglected, and oppressed… supremely represented in the person of blessed Mary. And we are to bear the Christ and bear witness to the saving acts of God by ministering to the world. Are we accepting, allowing, and assenting to the birth of Jesus Christ in our lives each day and are we taking that new birth to those people and those places where heroic Mary-like faith directs us to go? Our true validity as Christians of the Incarnation lies in the answer…
Amen.
December 11, 2011 - The Reverend Carolyn Estrada
‘Tis the season of Christmas letters.
We’ve all received them; some of us have written them.
Remember?
No diminishing here!
I wonder how Elizabeth and Zachariah’s Christmas letter might read:
We meet them again today, John the Baptizer and Mary, on “Rose Sunday,” the day when the darkness of Advent brightens with the promise of God’s new creation.
What is it about them that we recognize? A teen mom – and a wilderness man who wags his finger at us and preaches repentance in such a way that it knocks us out of our complacency and into the waters of baptism?
Media studies and communication theory teach us that three elements are important in any message: the content of the message; the messenger him or herself; and the impact of the message on its hearers.
Both Mary and John are messengers, of course: witnesses to the reality of God.
Mary witnesses in quiet humility with her body: “Here I am,” says Mary. “It shall be with me according to your will. I will bear this child…”
John witnesses in the fiery passion of his words and actions: “Repent!” John commands us. “Turn away from your sins, die in the waters of baptism and be reborn, transformed and ready for the coming of the Lord.
There is something compelling in both witnesses: we’re caught up in the tension between the quiet and the strident voices as we let the message wash over us, baptizing us with word and example.
Each voice is authentic, resonating from a “true self,” and not a false persona, and it is the authenticity of that witness which engages us.
Each speaks with a voice which points toward God; “self” seems to fall away as they respond to God’s call. This is not their story. They are players in a drama far bigger than themselves. Who they are and what they do isn’t about them – but about the God who works through them, the God who grows in their being, whose paths they proclaim…” Each is an instrument in the birth of a new creation, “decreasing oneself,” to paraphrase John the Baptist, “that he may increase.”
The message itself is arresting: this isn’t about whitening your teeth, or a younger, sexier image, either through a particular brand of clothing or a fifteen minute a day workout with your new “bowflex” exercise equipment.
This message matters, not by creating a need, but by responding to one: it speaks to the darkness and despair of a people waiting for hope, waiting for God’s promise of the Messiah. It holds up the promise of a new creation in which righteousness displaces purity, and repentance leads to a salvation accessible to all. It promises an ideal attainable in society, a world in which the mighty are cast down and the lowly uplifted; the hungry are fed; and God’s mercy abounds.
Sound good?
Or, can we even hear that message in a culture of youth and beauty, extreme sports, celebrity, fame, and fortune?
Can we feel the impact of such promises when we live in a middle-class culture where our experiences of hunger or terror come through the media, and our own lives are relatively free of oppression?
Or, perhaps in our culture, we hear the message through our interior wilderness layers of loneliness, anxiety, depression, and addiction where many of us are held hostage?
We prayed today, the Collect for Advent 3: “Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us!”
We long for the impact of this message! The promise of God is powerful!
Imagine a world filled with these promises:
We hear of it – God’s promises in Isaiah, and again from Mary and John, whose lives were certainly stirred up by God’s power.
Dare we hope for such a world?
Do we feel the message stirring inside us?
Can we even imagine such a world?
Quietly or stridently, Mary and John each bears witness to God’s new creation, the incarnation in the world, not through proof texts or rational explanations, but from their own experiences, their own encounters with the God who has stirred up and transformed their lives.
They have had an experience of God.
In his book, Testimony: Talking Ourselves into Being Christian, Thomas G. Long (p. 93) comments that because we live in a scientific age, “we may think we base our knowledge and decision-making on hard evidence, but in fact we live life mainly on the basis of testimony. Everyday life is dependent on people’s speaking truthful words to us.”
It is experience, shared.
Everyday life is dependent on people’s speaking truthful words to us.
Mary and John reach across the centuries, reach through the pages of Scripture, stirring us up, perhaps, as they bear the Good News of Jesus: “Prepare the way of the Lord,” they cry. “The Messiah is coming!”
Their experience, and their witness, engages us and makes us part of the story.
Can we feel the Messiah, nascent, waiting to be born in our lives?
Can we feel that incarnate God stirring within us, stirring up our lives, ready to break open our hearts, claim us?
Which brings me back to those Christmas letters.
What might our Christmas letter look like this year – a real, authentic account of who we are and where we are in our lives right now?
Can we give our own witness about the transformation from despair to hope that God has brought us? Isn’t that a significant part of our Good News this year, and a wonderful gift we can give others? Can we share our relationship with God, and the faith which has meant so much to us?
I read somewhere that sharing faith is simply “one beggar telling another beggar where to find food.” And there are a lot of hungry people out there!
So… how might that letter read?
We’ve all received them; some of us have written them.
Remember?
“Our Susie had a perfect score on the SAT’s and at the age of 15 will graduate as valedictorian of her class. With all the Ivy League Schools vying for her, the only difficulty will be trying to decide which school to attend! Our Jamie managed to be Player of the Year on his football team and still win the Tchaikovsky piano competition. In addition to his music and sports, he finds time to volunteer at the local homeless shelter and maintain a 4.0 in all his classes. .. And our precocious little Jennifer…”You know how it goes: we put our competitive foot forward, share the brightest and best of our accomplishments…
No diminishing here!
I wonder how Elizabeth and Zachariah’s Christmas letter might read:
“We’ve had little contact with our son John since he wandered off into the wilderness a few years ago, shouting something about needing to prepare the way of the Lord… If we can’t have the comfort of grandchildren in our old age, it would be nice at least to have the consolation of knowing our John was the long-awaited Messiah, but he seems willing to settle for “second best” and defer to this man, Jesus… ‘He must increase, and I must decrease,’ he says…”Or Anna’s:
“Our little daughter Mary shocked us all by becoming pregnant! Fortunately Joseph, her betrothed, was kind enough to marry her anyway, although both of them protest vehemently that the child is not his, saying something about the ‘Holy Spirit’… We pray the scandal won’t be too hard on Mary – or on her child… ‘The Almighty has done great things for me,’ she says; I can only hope it’s true.”John and Mary don’t exactly fall into the category of parental bragging-rights.
We meet them again today, John the Baptizer and Mary, on “Rose Sunday,” the day when the darkness of Advent brightens with the promise of God’s new creation.
What is it about them that we recognize? A teen mom – and a wilderness man who wags his finger at us and preaches repentance in such a way that it knocks us out of our complacency and into the waters of baptism?
Media studies and communication theory teach us that three elements are important in any message: the content of the message; the messenger him or herself; and the impact of the message on its hearers.
Both Mary and John are messengers, of course: witnesses to the reality of God.
Mary witnesses in quiet humility with her body: “Here I am,” says Mary. “It shall be with me according to your will. I will bear this child…”
John witnesses in the fiery passion of his words and actions: “Repent!” John commands us. “Turn away from your sins, die in the waters of baptism and be reborn, transformed and ready for the coming of the Lord.
There is something compelling in both witnesses: we’re caught up in the tension between the quiet and the strident voices as we let the message wash over us, baptizing us with word and example.
Each voice is authentic, resonating from a “true self,” and not a false persona, and it is the authenticity of that witness which engages us.
Each speaks with a voice which points toward God; “self” seems to fall away as they respond to God’s call. This is not their story. They are players in a drama far bigger than themselves. Who they are and what they do isn’t about them – but about the God who works through them, the God who grows in their being, whose paths they proclaim…” Each is an instrument in the birth of a new creation, “decreasing oneself,” to paraphrase John the Baptist, “that he may increase.”
The message itself is arresting: this isn’t about whitening your teeth, or a younger, sexier image, either through a particular brand of clothing or a fifteen minute a day workout with your new “bowflex” exercise equipment.
This message matters, not by creating a need, but by responding to one: it speaks to the darkness and despair of a people waiting for hope, waiting for God’s promise of the Messiah. It holds up the promise of a new creation in which righteousness displaces purity, and repentance leads to a salvation accessible to all. It promises an ideal attainable in society, a world in which the mighty are cast down and the lowly uplifted; the hungry are fed; and God’s mercy abounds.
Sound good?
Or, can we even hear that message in a culture of youth and beauty, extreme sports, celebrity, fame, and fortune?
Can we feel the impact of such promises when we live in a middle-class culture where our experiences of hunger or terror come through the media, and our own lives are relatively free of oppression?
Or, perhaps in our culture, we hear the message through our interior wilderness layers of loneliness, anxiety, depression, and addiction where many of us are held hostage?
We prayed today, the Collect for Advent 3: “Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us!”
We long for the impact of this message! The promise of God is powerful!
Imagine a world filled with these promises:
- A world in which we live long and fully and well;
- A world in which our children have the promise of a future into which they can grow and live.
- A world in which God anticipates our every need.
- A world in which there is peace, even among traditional enemies, and no one will inflict harm on another.
We hear of it – God’s promises in Isaiah, and again from Mary and John, whose lives were certainly stirred up by God’s power.
Dare we hope for such a world?
Do we feel the message stirring inside us?
Can we even imagine such a world?
Quietly or stridently, Mary and John each bears witness to God’s new creation, the incarnation in the world, not through proof texts or rational explanations, but from their own experiences, their own encounters with the God who has stirred up and transformed their lives.
They have had an experience of God.
In his book, Testimony: Talking Ourselves into Being Christian, Thomas G. Long (p. 93) comments that because we live in a scientific age, “we may think we base our knowledge and decision-making on hard evidence, but in fact we live life mainly on the basis of testimony. Everyday life is dependent on people’s speaking truthful words to us.”
It is experience, shared.
Everyday life is dependent on people’s speaking truthful words to us.
Mary and John reach across the centuries, reach through the pages of Scripture, stirring us up, perhaps, as they bear the Good News of Jesus: “Prepare the way of the Lord,” they cry. “The Messiah is coming!”
Their experience, and their witness, engages us and makes us part of the story.
Can we feel the Messiah, nascent, waiting to be born in our lives?
Can we feel that incarnate God stirring within us, stirring up our lives, ready to break open our hearts, claim us?
Which brings me back to those Christmas letters.
What might our Christmas letter look like this year – a real, authentic account of who we are and where we are in our lives right now?
Can we give our own witness about the transformation from despair to hope that God has brought us? Isn’t that a significant part of our Good News this year, and a wonderful gift we can give others? Can we share our relationship with God, and the faith which has meant so much to us?
I read somewhere that sharing faith is simply “one beggar telling another beggar where to find food.” And there are a lot of hungry people out there!
So… how might that letter read?
“Dear Friends:Amen.
It’s been a typical year – but not! Oh, the ordinary things have happened – crises of one sort or another – but somehow I’ve felt so blessed! I’ve met Jesus, over and over again, in my friends and family and my church community here at Messiah, and they have loved and supported and sustained me in ways I never knew possible. Truly I know what is meant by “living waters,” for the Almighty has indeed gone great things!
May the blessings of this Christmas season be with you and your family, and may you, too, know the joy of God’s new creation in your life!
Love,
Me.”
December 4, 2011 - Father Mark D. Stuart
May I speak in the Name of God Who is: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
In my varied parochial experience I once served as Vicar of a rural mission parish in a classic mid-American small little town in central Kansas. Two of the pillars of the tiny congregation were also well-known pillars of the community. They were a revered old couple that had been around just about as long as anybody could remember… their Christian names were Mildred and Chester, but it didn’t really matter, because everyone called them “Nana” and “Pappy.” Besides being at the social hub of town all year round, Nana and Pappy always had a lot of company for Christmas; in fact, as grandparents of a large “clan” their place was where Christmas “happened” for many people and generations. It always took weeks of preparation.
Nana loved the holidays and the gathering of people in her home – and she was busy with all the things she would do to make Christmas “happen” once again. She started the day after Thanksgiving and worked right through Christmas day. Pappy, on the other hand was a kind of grouch about the whole thing and Nana used to laugh that he was the inspiration for Dr. Seuss’ book, “The Grinch who stole Christmas.” So, a standard part of Christmas was Pappy’s grumbling about how much time Nana took baking cookies, shopping for gifts, and decorating the house.
If he said it once, he said it a thousand times, “That woman of mine is going to have us all in the poor house before the New Year!” But Nana was undaunted, “Oh, Chester,” she would scold, “don’t be such a grouch. Run down to the Co-Op and get me another bag of flour!” Then Pappy would snort his grouch snort, blowing a few ashes from his pipe as he rustled his newspaper back into place, cutting everyone from view; but probably more so that they couldn’t see him smile. Pappy’s grouching was as much a part of the preparation for Christmas as was Nana’s baking.
This went on year after year, as long as everyone in the family could remember, because as long as everyone could remember there was always Nana and Pappy’s place as sure as there was a Christmas. That was until the year Nana died and the sense of Christmas dramatically changed for the whole family. It was clear that Pappy would have given anything in the world to have had Nana back so he could complain about all the fuss she made over the holidays. But she was gone and he finally spoke the words that had been there all along, “Preparing was the biggest part of Christmas. The spirit of Christmas is gone without Nana and her incessant preparations.” Actually, after over 60 years of marriage losing her broke his heart and it was never more clear how much he missed her than at Christmas. He never made it to the following Christmas, just couldn’t bear to face another one without all the preparations and he joined Nana in heaven where they could enjoy Christmas together for all eternity.
Well, Pappy was right about one thing: preparing is one of the most important parts of Christmas. The Gospel of St. Mark begins with the theme of preparation but the Evangelist never even mentions the familiar birth narratives we all hold so dear at Christmas. Actually, the prophet Isaiah spoke it hundreds of years earlier: “the voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord…” The central meaning of Advent is the preparation of God’s people for the coming of Christ whose birth we celebrate at Christmas.
No one can deny that most of us spend a good bit of time preparing for Christmas. It is not so clear that such preparation is really a spiritual thing, however. Advent affords us the opportunity to explore the vast difference between seasonal preparation and spiritual preparation. All of us have our favorite and not so favorite ways of preparing for the Christmas season. Whatever our circumstances, we are all aware of the seasonal preparation that is a part of this time of year.
We also understand the pressure that this time of preparation brings about. Each of us will have at least one experience looking at the calendar and wondering, “Where in the world has the time gone?!” And that’s the point: “Where in the WORLD…” That is – the outward secular Christmas world… but there is another world that begs our attention and preparation. Spiritual preparation is not so obvious. It is so very easy to buy into the notion that if we have gone through the season, done all the “Christmasy” things and made a rare appearance at church warming a place on the pew for an hour and an half on Christmas Eve, then we have celebrated Christmas and done our spiritual duty.
Authentic spiritual preparation, however, means much more. It begins with a call to attention from a strange little man out in the desert who preaches a stern message about preparing the way of the Lord. This odd fellow named John who wears camel’s hair and eats locusts in the desert is indeed very strange. So strange as to suggest that when we have literally worn ourselves out with preparations for and celebration of Christmas; we have not really prepared the way of the Lord.
Why did so many folks make the long trek from Jerusalem and far environs way out to the southern wilderness past the Dead Sea to have this John the Baptizer get in their faces about repentance? Obviously there was something more that they were seeking, something missing… maybe this eccentric hermit had the answer. They considered themselves “good” religious people, no doubt, and yet they hear John say that even he as a holy man, is unworthy to untie the sandals of the great One yet to come. It must have been a shock for the pilgrims to hear those words; for if John, the holy man they trekked so far to see, was “unworthy” where does that leave them?!
An essential element in preparing for Christmas – for the coming of Christ – is taking a serious personal inventory of our inner life. Not anybody else’s – we’re very good at doing other people’s inventories – but “my own inventory.” It is the reflective part of preparation, getting my own personal house in order. John’s message was quite simple and reaches across the ages to us this season right now: “Prepare the way of the Lord.” Not prepare your greeting card list, not prepare your credit card limit, not prepare your holiday party schedule… no, prepare the way of the LORD!
In proclaiming “prepare the way of the Lord” John hearkens the words of the prophets, not the least of whom is Isaiah, so popular with Christians in interpreting his message as foretelling the advent of Jesus Christ. But prophets are never really popular in the age they live and with the people to whom they direct their message; because they are the people’s conscience. Isaiah was no exception and accused Israel of degenerating into a wealthy nation that forgot to exercise justice and charity to the poor and oppressed. Israel’s sin then was not unlike the sin of which our own nation has been guilty: The sin of supporting the wealthy and ignoring the poor. Have we in our own community heeded a “wake up call” before disaster strikes? I fear not! However, where injustice prevails there is still hope - if but humans turn from the crooked paths and make the way of the Lord straight and smooth and uncluttered. Because God is a compassionate God who tells the prophet Isaiah to “Comfort, comfort my people. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and cry to the city that its warfare is ended, that its iniquity is pardoned.”
We believe in a merciful and liberating God, Who is at the heart of the Advent message. This is the One Who became human to be made poor so that mankind could recognize both its sin and its redemption. Christianity is a faith of anticipation. We await the coming of the Lord in glory. We also await the magical season of Christmas, a time of peace and justice, and equity; not passively waiting, but as active participants in aiding to make that happen. In Advent, we Christians bridge the past of our Hebrew forbearers in faith with future expectations of the “Parousia” – the Lord’s return. Jewish expectations become ours as we both await the coming Messiah. And when He comes, may we welcome Him not just through our words but most importantly through our lives and through our actions!
Amen.
In my varied parochial experience I once served as Vicar of a rural mission parish in a classic mid-American small little town in central Kansas. Two of the pillars of the tiny congregation were also well-known pillars of the community. They were a revered old couple that had been around just about as long as anybody could remember… their Christian names were Mildred and Chester, but it didn’t really matter, because everyone called them “Nana” and “Pappy.” Besides being at the social hub of town all year round, Nana and Pappy always had a lot of company for Christmas; in fact, as grandparents of a large “clan” their place was where Christmas “happened” for many people and generations. It always took weeks of preparation.
Nana loved the holidays and the gathering of people in her home – and she was busy with all the things she would do to make Christmas “happen” once again. She started the day after Thanksgiving and worked right through Christmas day. Pappy, on the other hand was a kind of grouch about the whole thing and Nana used to laugh that he was the inspiration for Dr. Seuss’ book, “The Grinch who stole Christmas.” So, a standard part of Christmas was Pappy’s grumbling about how much time Nana took baking cookies, shopping for gifts, and decorating the house.
If he said it once, he said it a thousand times, “That woman of mine is going to have us all in the poor house before the New Year!” But Nana was undaunted, “Oh, Chester,” she would scold, “don’t be such a grouch. Run down to the Co-Op and get me another bag of flour!” Then Pappy would snort his grouch snort, blowing a few ashes from his pipe as he rustled his newspaper back into place, cutting everyone from view; but probably more so that they couldn’t see him smile. Pappy’s grouching was as much a part of the preparation for Christmas as was Nana’s baking.
This went on year after year, as long as everyone in the family could remember, because as long as everyone could remember there was always Nana and Pappy’s place as sure as there was a Christmas. That was until the year Nana died and the sense of Christmas dramatically changed for the whole family. It was clear that Pappy would have given anything in the world to have had Nana back so he could complain about all the fuss she made over the holidays. But she was gone and he finally spoke the words that had been there all along, “Preparing was the biggest part of Christmas. The spirit of Christmas is gone without Nana and her incessant preparations.” Actually, after over 60 years of marriage losing her broke his heart and it was never more clear how much he missed her than at Christmas. He never made it to the following Christmas, just couldn’t bear to face another one without all the preparations and he joined Nana in heaven where they could enjoy Christmas together for all eternity.
Well, Pappy was right about one thing: preparing is one of the most important parts of Christmas. The Gospel of St. Mark begins with the theme of preparation but the Evangelist never even mentions the familiar birth narratives we all hold so dear at Christmas. Actually, the prophet Isaiah spoke it hundreds of years earlier: “the voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord…” The central meaning of Advent is the preparation of God’s people for the coming of Christ whose birth we celebrate at Christmas.
No one can deny that most of us spend a good bit of time preparing for Christmas. It is not so clear that such preparation is really a spiritual thing, however. Advent affords us the opportunity to explore the vast difference between seasonal preparation and spiritual preparation. All of us have our favorite and not so favorite ways of preparing for the Christmas season. Whatever our circumstances, we are all aware of the seasonal preparation that is a part of this time of year.
We also understand the pressure that this time of preparation brings about. Each of us will have at least one experience looking at the calendar and wondering, “Where in the world has the time gone?!” And that’s the point: “Where in the WORLD…” That is – the outward secular Christmas world… but there is another world that begs our attention and preparation. Spiritual preparation is not so obvious. It is so very easy to buy into the notion that if we have gone through the season, done all the “Christmasy” things and made a rare appearance at church warming a place on the pew for an hour and an half on Christmas Eve, then we have celebrated Christmas and done our spiritual duty.
Authentic spiritual preparation, however, means much more. It begins with a call to attention from a strange little man out in the desert who preaches a stern message about preparing the way of the Lord. This odd fellow named John who wears camel’s hair and eats locusts in the desert is indeed very strange. So strange as to suggest that when we have literally worn ourselves out with preparations for and celebration of Christmas; we have not really prepared the way of the Lord.
Why did so many folks make the long trek from Jerusalem and far environs way out to the southern wilderness past the Dead Sea to have this John the Baptizer get in their faces about repentance? Obviously there was something more that they were seeking, something missing… maybe this eccentric hermit had the answer. They considered themselves “good” religious people, no doubt, and yet they hear John say that even he as a holy man, is unworthy to untie the sandals of the great One yet to come. It must have been a shock for the pilgrims to hear those words; for if John, the holy man they trekked so far to see, was “unworthy” where does that leave them?!
An essential element in preparing for Christmas – for the coming of Christ – is taking a serious personal inventory of our inner life. Not anybody else’s – we’re very good at doing other people’s inventories – but “my own inventory.” It is the reflective part of preparation, getting my own personal house in order. John’s message was quite simple and reaches across the ages to us this season right now: “Prepare the way of the Lord.” Not prepare your greeting card list, not prepare your credit card limit, not prepare your holiday party schedule… no, prepare the way of the LORD!
In proclaiming “prepare the way of the Lord” John hearkens the words of the prophets, not the least of whom is Isaiah, so popular with Christians in interpreting his message as foretelling the advent of Jesus Christ. But prophets are never really popular in the age they live and with the people to whom they direct their message; because they are the people’s conscience. Isaiah was no exception and accused Israel of degenerating into a wealthy nation that forgot to exercise justice and charity to the poor and oppressed. Israel’s sin then was not unlike the sin of which our own nation has been guilty: The sin of supporting the wealthy and ignoring the poor. Have we in our own community heeded a “wake up call” before disaster strikes? I fear not! However, where injustice prevails there is still hope - if but humans turn from the crooked paths and make the way of the Lord straight and smooth and uncluttered. Because God is a compassionate God who tells the prophet Isaiah to “Comfort, comfort my people. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and cry to the city that its warfare is ended, that its iniquity is pardoned.”
We believe in a merciful and liberating God, Who is at the heart of the Advent message. This is the One Who became human to be made poor so that mankind could recognize both its sin and its redemption. Christianity is a faith of anticipation. We await the coming of the Lord in glory. We also await the magical season of Christmas, a time of peace and justice, and equity; not passively waiting, but as active participants in aiding to make that happen. In Advent, we Christians bridge the past of our Hebrew forbearers in faith with future expectations of the “Parousia” – the Lord’s return. Jewish expectations become ours as we both await the coming Messiah. And when He comes, may we welcome Him not just through our words but most importantly through our lives and through our actions!
Amen.
November's Journal Entry from the Nicaragua 13
Wow.. what amazing people there are at Messiah and so much to be thankful for ...... Danny McKee for the beauty products and services from Bushire Salon...the winner of the drawing was Claire Stoneman - she is already beautiful but will enjoy a day relaxing and getting ready for Christmas. Esther and Frank Lopez for the weekend in Palm Springs...the winner of the drawing was Rosario Casares - the whole family is so excited and will have a fun weekend at the beautiful resort. THANK YOU to all who participated and for supporting this medical mission trip. We raised almost $1000 with this event. Everyone has been so wonderful and the entire Nicaragua team appreciates the generosity of the Messiah family.
Now we are in the final preparations for the trip and will begin packing the dental, school and craft supplies that we are taking with us. We are planning many fun activities for the children in addition to the health screening we will be doing with the medical team in Nicaragua... and we are getting excited.
by Carol Harvey
Now we are in the final preparations for the trip and will begin packing the dental, school and craft supplies that we are taking with us. We are planning many fun activities for the children in addition to the health screening we will be doing with the medical team in Nicaragua... and we are getting excited.
by Carol Harvey
November 20, 2011 - Father Mark D. Stuart
May I speak in the Name of God Who is: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
It was the Franciscans, the followers of the poor little man from Assisi, who led the Church to designate this last Sunday of the Christian year the Feast of Christ the King. So, today we all gather to celebrate the reign of Christ. Our music is filled with images of Kings and Kingdoms and Kingship. Our prayers are filled with royal themes. The Scriptures proclaimed today likewise speak to the theme.
We’re not supposed to like royalty in this country ever since our forbearers decided in 1776 that we could live quite well without kings and prelates, thank you very much! But there is something about the idea that still appeals to us (even more so among Anglophile Anglicans). It is the British royal family that continues to capture our imagination and interest, whether it was the abdication of Edward VIII or the death of Princess Diana, the maturing of the young princes William and Harry and this year the royal wedding of Prince William and Kate Middelton, not to mention all the fuss when they visited Southern California not long after. It seems like we are all inclined to join in the words of the number from the popular Broadway musical Camelot, “I wonder what the king is doing tonight.” Today, however, we celebrate a different sort of King.
This Feast of Christ the King, the last Sunday of the Church year, the Sunday before Advent, celebrates the reign of Christ, the completion of the ministry of our Lord and the inauguration of his universal kingdom, the new age when all “the peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin are brought together under his most gracious rule.” To live under the divine and just rule of God was the hope of most of the Old Testament. Much of the people’s longing was to have once again a king like David, the ideal king, beloved of God. Jews living during the time of Jesus needed a hope like this, a hope that life under God’s rule would be better than life under Roman rule; the Jews could remember the time of the Maccabees, only four generations back, when they controlled their own country. The people hoped for a political and religious restoration which would turn things back to the way they used to be.
None of these hopes came to fruition. God intervened, but not in the way anyone expected. When Pilate asked Jesus at His trial if he is a king, Jesus answered that his kingship is not of this world. The kingship of Christ celebrates the last victory, but it celebrates a victory that turned the expectations of kingship upside down. The Jesus we celebrate came in human history born as one of us, moreover born amongst the poor. We need to reaffirm our King in His Gospel integrity.
Let us dare to take a look at our King. Our King: born in a dirty stable because there was no lodging willing to take his family in. Our King: poor, powerless, and apparently uneducated. Our King: no army to command, no navy to deploy, to power to tax, no bureaucrats to order around, no pageantry, no court. Our King: clothed in sandals and a working man’s garb, no jewels, no finery, only dust and sweat. Our King: dying a shameful death on a cross, naked, jeered by the crowds, taunted by the soldiers, abandoned by friends. What a strange King. What a strange faith… Who could believe all this? Through the centuries, the answer to that is simple… people like you and me, that’s who!
We know our King and he know us and loves us. Our King walked from town to town, mingled with the common people, saw their needs and reached out his hand, knelt and washed his disciples’ feet. That is our strange King. When the King comes into the fullness of His kingdom his subjects will consist of those who ministered to Him in the manifestation of His lowliness. Job asked: “Can you by searching find God?” The reality of Christ’s message is that God lies hidden in our neighbor who needs our help.
Since most of us tire of just meeting the needs of people with whom we live and interact on a normal daily basis; the destitute, victims of war, AIDS patients, abused children, the elderly, or prisoners are easily forgotten.
St. Paul writing to the Church in Corinth said: “Consider your own call brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God.” These are the ones blessed by Christ the King.
I hope and pray that every faithful member of Messiah parish has come to accept the practical implications of Jesus’ kingship in their lives and in the corporate life of the parish. This means not only our doctrines and practices; but also the parish’s year-to-year programs and community outreach; all of its week-to-week activities and the budget which allows it all to happen are subject to Christ’s will and purpose. A parish that acknowledges Christ as its head cannot be a comfortable little closed community where people gather just for another social opportunity. Too often we Episcopalians have been rightly accused of having a “country club” mentality. I certainly don’t see that here at Messiah parish and as soon as I arrived here I was pleased to witness the open, welcoming attitude which characterizes this place. Christ commanded His Church to reach out to the community and throughout the Gospel story there stretches a motley array of people; mostly outcasts, the despised, the rejected and neglected, those at the end of their ropes to whom Jesus reached out and who allowed a holy, kingly encounter with Him to enter and transform their lives. And so we must follow the King in embracing the world with all its diversities and differences, in its pain and unpleasantness, concerned for all persons extending our arms in Gospel witness of loving service and in defense of their basic human dignity.
So, this is our King. This the One who forsook all regal privileges to enter the totality of human existence, literally to enter the realm of hunger, poverty, disease, and oppression as one of us. This is He Who when His own followers tried to keep sick women and little ragamuffin children away from Him says, “No, let them come to me. Anyone who cannot welcome them cannot welcome my kingdom.” Our King doesn’t sound at all like Emperor Constantine or Henry VIII. He does not look like the power brokers of our present age either, be they prime ministers, presidents, sports heroes, film stars, or software manufacturers. So, this Sunday we are called to consider who we choose to follow… it’s up to us, it’s our choice.
“When the Son of man comes in His glory, and all the angels with him, then He will sit on His glorious throne. Before Him will be gathered all the nations, and He will separate them one form another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and He will place the sheep at His right hand, but the goats on His left. Then the King will say to those at His right hand, “Come, O blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.”
Amen.
It was the Franciscans, the followers of the poor little man from Assisi, who led the Church to designate this last Sunday of the Christian year the Feast of Christ the King. So, today we all gather to celebrate the reign of Christ. Our music is filled with images of Kings and Kingdoms and Kingship. Our prayers are filled with royal themes. The Scriptures proclaimed today likewise speak to the theme.
We’re not supposed to like royalty in this country ever since our forbearers decided in 1776 that we could live quite well without kings and prelates, thank you very much! But there is something about the idea that still appeals to us (even more so among Anglophile Anglicans). It is the British royal family that continues to capture our imagination and interest, whether it was the abdication of Edward VIII or the death of Princess Diana, the maturing of the young princes William and Harry and this year the royal wedding of Prince William and Kate Middelton, not to mention all the fuss when they visited Southern California not long after. It seems like we are all inclined to join in the words of the number from the popular Broadway musical Camelot, “I wonder what the king is doing tonight.” Today, however, we celebrate a different sort of King.
This Feast of Christ the King, the last Sunday of the Church year, the Sunday before Advent, celebrates the reign of Christ, the completion of the ministry of our Lord and the inauguration of his universal kingdom, the new age when all “the peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin are brought together under his most gracious rule.” To live under the divine and just rule of God was the hope of most of the Old Testament. Much of the people’s longing was to have once again a king like David, the ideal king, beloved of God. Jews living during the time of Jesus needed a hope like this, a hope that life under God’s rule would be better than life under Roman rule; the Jews could remember the time of the Maccabees, only four generations back, when they controlled their own country. The people hoped for a political and religious restoration which would turn things back to the way they used to be.
None of these hopes came to fruition. God intervened, but not in the way anyone expected. When Pilate asked Jesus at His trial if he is a king, Jesus answered that his kingship is not of this world. The kingship of Christ celebrates the last victory, but it celebrates a victory that turned the expectations of kingship upside down. The Jesus we celebrate came in human history born as one of us, moreover born amongst the poor. We need to reaffirm our King in His Gospel integrity.
Let us dare to take a look at our King. Our King: born in a dirty stable because there was no lodging willing to take his family in. Our King: poor, powerless, and apparently uneducated. Our King: no army to command, no navy to deploy, to power to tax, no bureaucrats to order around, no pageantry, no court. Our King: clothed in sandals and a working man’s garb, no jewels, no finery, only dust and sweat. Our King: dying a shameful death on a cross, naked, jeered by the crowds, taunted by the soldiers, abandoned by friends. What a strange King. What a strange faith… Who could believe all this? Through the centuries, the answer to that is simple… people like you and me, that’s who!
We know our King and he know us and loves us. Our King walked from town to town, mingled with the common people, saw their needs and reached out his hand, knelt and washed his disciples’ feet. That is our strange King. When the King comes into the fullness of His kingdom his subjects will consist of those who ministered to Him in the manifestation of His lowliness. Job asked: “Can you by searching find God?” The reality of Christ’s message is that God lies hidden in our neighbor who needs our help.
Since most of us tire of just meeting the needs of people with whom we live and interact on a normal daily basis; the destitute, victims of war, AIDS patients, abused children, the elderly, or prisoners are easily forgotten.
St. Paul writing to the Church in Corinth said: “Consider your own call brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God.” These are the ones blessed by Christ the King.
I hope and pray that every faithful member of Messiah parish has come to accept the practical implications of Jesus’ kingship in their lives and in the corporate life of the parish. This means not only our doctrines and practices; but also the parish’s year-to-year programs and community outreach; all of its week-to-week activities and the budget which allows it all to happen are subject to Christ’s will and purpose. A parish that acknowledges Christ as its head cannot be a comfortable little closed community where people gather just for another social opportunity. Too often we Episcopalians have been rightly accused of having a “country club” mentality. I certainly don’t see that here at Messiah parish and as soon as I arrived here I was pleased to witness the open, welcoming attitude which characterizes this place. Christ commanded His Church to reach out to the community and throughout the Gospel story there stretches a motley array of people; mostly outcasts, the despised, the rejected and neglected, those at the end of their ropes to whom Jesus reached out and who allowed a holy, kingly encounter with Him to enter and transform their lives. And so we must follow the King in embracing the world with all its diversities and differences, in its pain and unpleasantness, concerned for all persons extending our arms in Gospel witness of loving service and in defense of their basic human dignity.
So, this is our King. This the One who forsook all regal privileges to enter the totality of human existence, literally to enter the realm of hunger, poverty, disease, and oppression as one of us. This is He Who when His own followers tried to keep sick women and little ragamuffin children away from Him says, “No, let them come to me. Anyone who cannot welcome them cannot welcome my kingdom.” Our King doesn’t sound at all like Emperor Constantine or Henry VIII. He does not look like the power brokers of our present age either, be they prime ministers, presidents, sports heroes, film stars, or software manufacturers. So, this Sunday we are called to consider who we choose to follow… it’s up to us, it’s our choice.
“When the Son of man comes in His glory, and all the angels with him, then He will sit on His glorious throne. Before Him will be gathered all the nations, and He will separate them one form another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and He will place the sheep at His right hand, but the goats on His left. Then the King will say to those at His right hand, “Come, O blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.”
Amen.
November 13, 2011 - The Reverend Carolyn Estrada
It’s jarring to hear this morning’s Gospel lesson against the current reality of our lives: the media accounts of corporate greed and the populous “Occupy Wall Street”; the rising number of un- and under-employed and uninsured; the shock of opening our own quarterly statements to find that we have lost more than we have invested in the last several months… That’s our “weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth!”
Here is the face of our economy in our own parish:
We wonder if the recipient of one talent weren’t just being prudent – one talent would buy a lot of food or medicine in an emergency! So it is shocking to hear Jesus castigating the man who “played it safe,” saving his talent, and apparently lauding the risk-takers, the investors. It all sounds a bit like the “Prosperity Gospel”: Jesus wants you to be rich! Send money, and wealth will come to you!”
It doesn’t seem like the Jesus we have come to know: the one who up-ends the traditional values, drawing the marginalized to the center, exalting the lowly, saying the first shall be last and the last shall be first. THAT Jesus is more reflective of the parable by Kafka in which a thief breaks into a department store in the middle of the night, and, instead of stealing anything, simply re-arranges the price tags, so that the next morning shoppers are surprised and delighted to find that diamonds now cost a dollar, and ceramic mugs and key chains demand thousands.
As followers of Jesus, we’ve gotten used to those re-arranged price-tags, so now we’re confused! What is Jesus doing, rewarding the investors? Validating once again the truism that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer?
Ah, but the translation of money as “talent” gives us an out! Of course – this isn’t about economics! We needn’t read this literally, as money. (Or, perhaps, we should read this literally, as talents!) God has given us each gifts, aptitudes and abilities, to use, to share: playing the piano, singing, drawing, cooking, writing poetry, fixing things… Suddenly we are more comfortable. Of course: we are to use our God-given abilities – and many of us do: the choir we so enjoy, for example, or the many other individuals whose time and talent maintain the infrastructure of this old building and its ministries…
But since when do Jesus’ teachings make us comfortable?!! I think focusing on money – or on talents as gifts and abilities – is to take the easy way out of this difficult passage. What we lose sight of in the focus on economics or the focus on aptitude and ability is the fact that a “talent” – just one talent, let alone two or five! – was a veritable treasure – an amazing amount of money, an amount of money unimaginable to Jesus’ hearers then – or to us today. Think Bill Gates. Think Fort Knox. Think our national debt. Think “treasure.”
Treasure. There’s the focus. Not on money. Not on aptitudes and abilities. Treasure. That which is of immeasurable value. Jesus has spoken of treasure before: the pearl without price; the treasure buried in the field. This isn’t a matter of simple – or complicated! – economics, nor of the development of our assorted gifts and abilities. This is about how we use that which is of immeasurable value, a treasure given to us, entrusted to us.
We all have treasure in our lives, of course. Family. Health. Home, job, lifestyle… Ask the victims of any natural disaster or health crisis about the treasure in their lives… What is the treasure in our life? What do we save, value, take with us, guard and keep? Is it the fine china we only occasionally use for fear it will break? Often it is the crisis which helps us know what it is we value, which helps us shed the detritus of our lives and realize what is truly meaningful.
Think for a moment of the treasure in your life. In your mind’s eye, peel away the layers of what you are and what you have. Consider: what is “unpeelable”? What can’t be taken away from you? What is left underneath everything else?
Your relationship with God. God’s gift to us in the incarnation, in Jesus. We were each given the gift of Jesus, that treasure of immeasurable value, in our baptism. There is our windfall! We are washed in water in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, and voila! We are in possession of this amazing gift!
And, because many of us were too young to remember our own baptisms, every time as a community we baptize someone, we all renew our own baptismal vows. We revisit that time of gift-giving in our own lives.
Consider for a moment your own baptism. Hold it in your mind’s eye. As the waters of baptism washed over you then, let the magnum of the event wash over you now. You have been sealed as Christ’s own forever! Allow yourself to experience it as the treasure it is.
What are the feelings evoked? Do we receive it with excitement, this treasure of our baptism? Are we filled with plans, eager with anticipation? Confident that we can accomplish with God that which we could never do alone? Are we breathless? In awe, anxious – or perhaps even frightened of the responsibility? Or have we sunk into complacency, not even realizing the treasure we possess? How do we feel?
Today’s Gospel lesson challenges us to recognize the gift for the treasure it indeed is, and to consider how we use that gift.
Not “use” as in outcome – at the end of your life no one is going to tally the Sundays you’ve been to church, or the amount of money you’ve donated, or the number of converts you have made! Notice that the servant who received two talents and the servant who received five talents are rewarded identically. To each the response of the master is, “Well done, good and faithful servant… enter into the joy of your master.”
The servants have been praised for their faithfulness, not for having doubled the talents their master gave them. Even so, we servants, baptized into life in Jesus, are responsible for being faithful to the gift of that baptism, honoring it, living it, bringing forth the life of Jesus Christ through us: not losing it in the busy-ness and distractions of our day-to-day living, or burying it in some forgotten recess of our lives.
How do we keep that gift real? Alive? How do we live the import of that gift in a culture which seduces us with so many false gods and insubstantial “treasures”? How can we be faithful to the gift?
Jesus tells us that faithfulness involves risk; not simply hanging onto what we have, but investing it, putting it out there, allowing it to grow. Jesus tells us there is more to honoring the gift than coming to church on Sunday mornings because it “makes us feel good.”
He challenges us, like the servants with the talents, to invest our treasure! And we do that. Messiah has community outreach and social justice “down pat”, and most of us are comfortable with what we do! But with words? Now, there we’re a bit more uncomfortable…
Tell someone about my treasure?
Share the Good News of Jesus?
Pray with someone?
Invite someone to church?
There’s our challenge!
I read recently that Vincent Van Gogh, more re-known for his art than his pithy remarks, once commented: “One may have a blazing hearth in one’s soul and yet no one ever came to sit by it. Passers-by see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on their way.” I wonder if that describes us as Christians? We have in our soul the blazing hearth of our baptism. Do people see only the wisp of smoke when we could be inviting them in to sit by the fire?
Walter Bruggemann writes:
We will not keep silent.
We are the people who must sing you,
For the sake of our very lives.
You are a God who must be sung by us,
For the sake of your majesty and honor…
We are witnesses to your mercy and splendor;
We will not keep silent…ever again.
Jesus, our master, has given us each a great treasure. May we be faithful servants.
Amen.
Here is the face of our economy in our own parish:
- A desperate man coming to the window in the office for help with a prescription. He spends his days, sick or well, in the parking lot of Home Depot, hoping to pick up jobs as a day laborer.
- A couple at coffee hour talking about their fear and insecurity as they live from paycheck to paycheck, knowing that they have nothing to fall back on in an emergency.
- A retired couple confiding that their decrease in income with this economic downturn has meant that some months they have to make decisions between food and medicine.
We wonder if the recipient of one talent weren’t just being prudent – one talent would buy a lot of food or medicine in an emergency! So it is shocking to hear Jesus castigating the man who “played it safe,” saving his talent, and apparently lauding the risk-takers, the investors. It all sounds a bit like the “Prosperity Gospel”: Jesus wants you to be rich! Send money, and wealth will come to you!”
It doesn’t seem like the Jesus we have come to know: the one who up-ends the traditional values, drawing the marginalized to the center, exalting the lowly, saying the first shall be last and the last shall be first. THAT Jesus is more reflective of the parable by Kafka in which a thief breaks into a department store in the middle of the night, and, instead of stealing anything, simply re-arranges the price tags, so that the next morning shoppers are surprised and delighted to find that diamonds now cost a dollar, and ceramic mugs and key chains demand thousands.
As followers of Jesus, we’ve gotten used to those re-arranged price-tags, so now we’re confused! What is Jesus doing, rewarding the investors? Validating once again the truism that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer?
Ah, but the translation of money as “talent” gives us an out! Of course – this isn’t about economics! We needn’t read this literally, as money. (Or, perhaps, we should read this literally, as talents!) God has given us each gifts, aptitudes and abilities, to use, to share: playing the piano, singing, drawing, cooking, writing poetry, fixing things… Suddenly we are more comfortable. Of course: we are to use our God-given abilities – and many of us do: the choir we so enjoy, for example, or the many other individuals whose time and talent maintain the infrastructure of this old building and its ministries…
But since when do Jesus’ teachings make us comfortable?!! I think focusing on money – or on talents as gifts and abilities – is to take the easy way out of this difficult passage. What we lose sight of in the focus on economics or the focus on aptitude and ability is the fact that a “talent” – just one talent, let alone two or five! – was a veritable treasure – an amazing amount of money, an amount of money unimaginable to Jesus’ hearers then – or to us today. Think Bill Gates. Think Fort Knox. Think our national debt. Think “treasure.”
Treasure. There’s the focus. Not on money. Not on aptitudes and abilities. Treasure. That which is of immeasurable value. Jesus has spoken of treasure before: the pearl without price; the treasure buried in the field. This isn’t a matter of simple – or complicated! – economics, nor of the development of our assorted gifts and abilities. This is about how we use that which is of immeasurable value, a treasure given to us, entrusted to us.
We all have treasure in our lives, of course. Family. Health. Home, job, lifestyle… Ask the victims of any natural disaster or health crisis about the treasure in their lives… What is the treasure in our life? What do we save, value, take with us, guard and keep? Is it the fine china we only occasionally use for fear it will break? Often it is the crisis which helps us know what it is we value, which helps us shed the detritus of our lives and realize what is truly meaningful.
Think for a moment of the treasure in your life. In your mind’s eye, peel away the layers of what you are and what you have. Consider: what is “unpeelable”? What can’t be taken away from you? What is left underneath everything else?
Your relationship with God. God’s gift to us in the incarnation, in Jesus. We were each given the gift of Jesus, that treasure of immeasurable value, in our baptism. There is our windfall! We are washed in water in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, and voila! We are in possession of this amazing gift!
And, because many of us were too young to remember our own baptisms, every time as a community we baptize someone, we all renew our own baptismal vows. We revisit that time of gift-giving in our own lives.
Consider for a moment your own baptism. Hold it in your mind’s eye. As the waters of baptism washed over you then, let the magnum of the event wash over you now. You have been sealed as Christ’s own forever! Allow yourself to experience it as the treasure it is.
What are the feelings evoked? Do we receive it with excitement, this treasure of our baptism? Are we filled with plans, eager with anticipation? Confident that we can accomplish with God that which we could never do alone? Are we breathless? In awe, anxious – or perhaps even frightened of the responsibility? Or have we sunk into complacency, not even realizing the treasure we possess? How do we feel?
Today’s Gospel lesson challenges us to recognize the gift for the treasure it indeed is, and to consider how we use that gift.
Not “use” as in outcome – at the end of your life no one is going to tally the Sundays you’ve been to church, or the amount of money you’ve donated, or the number of converts you have made! Notice that the servant who received two talents and the servant who received five talents are rewarded identically. To each the response of the master is, “Well done, good and faithful servant… enter into the joy of your master.”
The servants have been praised for their faithfulness, not for having doubled the talents their master gave them. Even so, we servants, baptized into life in Jesus, are responsible for being faithful to the gift of that baptism, honoring it, living it, bringing forth the life of Jesus Christ through us: not losing it in the busy-ness and distractions of our day-to-day living, or burying it in some forgotten recess of our lives.
How do we keep that gift real? Alive? How do we live the import of that gift in a culture which seduces us with so many false gods and insubstantial “treasures”? How can we be faithful to the gift?
Jesus tells us that faithfulness involves risk; not simply hanging onto what we have, but investing it, putting it out there, allowing it to grow. Jesus tells us there is more to honoring the gift than coming to church on Sunday mornings because it “makes us feel good.”
He challenges us, like the servants with the talents, to invest our treasure! And we do that. Messiah has community outreach and social justice “down pat”, and most of us are comfortable with what we do! But with words? Now, there we’re a bit more uncomfortable…
Tell someone about my treasure?
Share the Good News of Jesus?
Pray with someone?
Invite someone to church?
There’s our challenge!
I read recently that Vincent Van Gogh, more re-known for his art than his pithy remarks, once commented: “One may have a blazing hearth in one’s soul and yet no one ever came to sit by it. Passers-by see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on their way.” I wonder if that describes us as Christians? We have in our soul the blazing hearth of our baptism. Do people see only the wisp of smoke when we could be inviting them in to sit by the fire?
Walter Bruggemann writes:
We will not keep silent.
We are the people who must sing you,
For the sake of our very lives.
You are a God who must be sung by us,
For the sake of your majesty and honor…
We are witnesses to your mercy and splendor;
We will not keep silent…ever again.
Jesus, our master, has given us each a great treasure. May we be faithful servants.
Amen.
Thanksgiving Day Eucharist
10 a.m.
The Thanksgiving offering will go to Catholic Worker. The Orange County home of Catholic Worker in Santa Ana offers hot meal and Christian hospitality to the homeless population. We are seeing more and more mothers with little children. To make a donation that will go directly to the purchase of food for the Catholic Worker ministry, please contact the church office.
The Thanksgiving offering will go to Catholic Worker. The Orange County home of Catholic Worker in Santa Ana offers hot meal and Christian hospitality to the homeless population. We are seeing more and more mothers with little children. To make a donation that will go directly to the purchase of food for the Catholic Worker ministry, please contact the church office.
Parish Posada
Saturday
December 17
th,
5:30 p.m.
Children from our 12 noon membership offer a Presentación or Christmas Pageant in Spanish. We process with Mary and Joseph to neighborhood homes, seeking shelter for them, then return for fabulous tamales and a piñata for the children. Bring a flashlight, comfortable shoes, and a warm jacket.
Children from our 12 noon membership offer a Presentación or Christmas Pageant in Spanish. We process with Mary and Joseph to neighborhood homes, seeking shelter for them, then return for fabulous tamales and a piñata for the children. Bring a flashlight, comfortable shoes, and a warm jacket.
Advent Family Workshop
Sunday,
November
27
Crafts for kids of all ages.
4 - 7p.m. Potluck Dinner at 5:30 p.m.
Bring something to share and enjoy a fun evening for the whole family (even if that’s only you!).
In the Parish Hall
Crafts for kids of all ages.
4 - 7p.m. Potluck Dinner at 5:30 p.m.
Bring something to share and enjoy a fun evening for the whole family (even if that’s only you!).
In the Parish Hall
Advent Eucharist Services
Wednesday Mornings beginning
November 30
Eucharist is followed by a light breakfast or lunch and Book Discussion in the Conference Room. Find time in your busy week to meditate and pray about the real meaning of Christmas.
- at 6:30 a.m. followed by breakfast
- and at 12:05 p.m. followed by lunch
Eucharist is followed by a light breakfast or lunch and Book Discussion in the Conference Room. Find time in your busy week to meditate and pray about the real meaning of Christmas.
November 6, 2011 - Father Mark D. Stuart
May I speak in the Name of God who is: Father, Son, Holy Spirit. Amen.
For those of you who have ever had an indoor-outdoor cat or dog, it can sometimes be a challenge in the morning, or any other time of day for that matter, giving your animal friend the opportunity to go out or to stay in. There is the sniffing of the air, the tentative testing of the temperature or precipitation, and having to make up one’s mind if going outside was really the desire, after all. Over the years with our feline companions, Bob and I came to recognize this routine.
In these indecisive feline moments, depending on the kind of mood we were in, or if it was a winter morning with cold air blowing on our bare feet, and if we were unsuccessful in verbal coaxing, we had to make the decision for them: they were either nudged out the door or pulled back in to stay inside. Thus, Bob and I were not only primary care-givers: providers of meals and treats, and attention, affection, and love; but we were our cats’ doorkeepers. We ultimately determined when they would go out and when they would come in.
In a similar way, some of us are regularly going to the door and pushing some people out and inviting others in. We determine that certain people belong inside with us and others don’t. We do it as individuals; we do it as churches; we do it as communities. We divide people into friends or foes, saints or sinners, attractive or unappealing. We are doorkeepers, not only for our animal companions, but for people as well.
Yet in order to follow Jesus and hearken to His words specifically conveyed in the Beatitudes from today’s Gospel lesson, we must be willing to give up our self-appointed role as doorkeepers. What He is basically saying is that everyone who is in will be out and everyone who is out will be in. Jesus has taken the door off its hinges. The two distinct groups, the “haves” and the have-nots,” will be constantly changing places with each other until they become indistinguishable.
If the question is asked, “What is it exactly that you want out of life?” most people in our society would probably respond that they want to be rich, they want to have plenty to eat, they want to be happy, and they want others to admire them (usually because they are better looking, have a better body, or are more charming, talented, intelligent, or successful). If those are the things you also want out of life, then today’s Gospel should come as a terrible shock to you! Jesus says in no uncertain terms that it is the poor, the hungry, the sad, the rejected who are blessed. So, what you want out of life makes a difference when it comes to whether you are blessed or not.
In the original Greek of the New Testament, the word we translate as “blessed” is makarios. It had a variety of connotations, but in all its meanings, the blessed ones clearly existed on a higher plane the rest of the people: they were either gods, or they were humans who had gone to that other world of the gods; or they were the “upper crust” of society; or they were those whose supposed righteousness brought them many possessions. But Jesus uses makarios in a totally different way. It is not the elite, the rich and powerful, the high and mighty, the beautiful and buff, the possessors of many things who are blessed, though it may appear so by the world’s standards… Rather, it is the lowly, the poor, the hungry, the sobbing, the unattractive ones looked down on… who are the truly blessed.
Sadly, many really don’t want to hear this, because they’ve created a set of values which command their energies and desires, like insatiable addictions. Admittedly, it’s hard to contradict the values of the society and culture in which we live; where our role models are those celebrities and pro-athletes who seem to have attained all the “blessedness” one would ever hope to have in life; no matter how transitory or how many of the famous, mighty, and wealthy constantly fall off their pedestals. But the fact is, Jesus so strongly declares, that when you let the world call the shots for you, offering you the final word about the meaning and significance in life, you will not be blessed and will instead be relegated to hopelessness and despair.
Today is All Saints’ Sunday, when we as Christians celebrate a different set of celebrities and role-models, who lived by a different set of standards than those promoted by common notions of popularity and success. In the New Testament “saint” (small “s”) is a term used for all faithful believers. In many languages the word for saint and for holy are the same, or very similar (like in Spanish, for instance – “santo”); clearly indicating that all Christians are holy by virtue of their baptism.
The marvel is that we imperfect, deeply flawed human beings can be called by God, who alone is holy. And given the fact that in Jesus the world’s values are turned topsy-turvy; the role models we are given as His followers don’t drive the fastest most expensive cars, live in lavish homes, have the biggest bust or biceps, and command the most prestige. Confronting this “all about me” lifestyle are those new role models, the makarios, the blessed ones Jesus refers to; they are our new role models, the Saints. They exemplify the perfect stewardship to which God calls all of us.
The late noted Episcopal theologian, William Stringfellow described the Saints as “those men and women who relish the event of life as a gift and who realize that the only way to honor such a gift is to give it away.” The Church Catholic has declared these wonderful folk as bright examples for us in something that is really quite simple: namely, a deep and abiding faith in Jesus Christ, a faith that issued forth in actions, more often than not leading to their deaths, frequently under painful circumstances.
These are not remote inapproachable people; these are people like you and me who chose to do the right thing at the right time in a multitude of situations and cultures across the globe spanning the ages… they did not choose the easy way, they chose the right way… They are the ones recognized through their example by the Church on the date of their death (which is really their date of birth to the glorious life in heaven), a specially dedicated annual remembrance to them, their Feast Day, a practice going back to the Christian victims of the pagan Roman persecutions in the earliest days of Church.
On All Saint’s, we remember all of them collectively as that great company of saints which surrounds us like a cloud of witnesses, so beautifully portrayed in the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in downtown LA, on the tapestries which line the nave, with Saints from the ages facing in procession toward the high altar. Because we Christians believe in the eternal life offered us by our Lord’s Resurrection, we know that the Saints continue to live and exercise even more compassion and care in their new heavenly existence. Just as we freely ask for prayers from our close friends, parish, and loved ones, so too we ask the prayers of the Saints…the intercessions of the Holy Ones is nothing different than asking someone you love and who loves you, to pray for you.
And so we celebrate the Blessed Ones today… all the Saints on earth and all the Saints in heaven, with all the Saints who have gone before us and all the Saints who will come after us. We rejoice this day in the communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. We rejoice that the “doorkeeper” of souls is Jesus Christ our Lord, who pronounces true “blessedness.” We rejoice in God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit for having called us into God’s blessing and for having given us a totally new way of looking at life… a way which turns out, to be the only way there truly is.
Amen.
For those of you who have ever had an indoor-outdoor cat or dog, it can sometimes be a challenge in the morning, or any other time of day for that matter, giving your animal friend the opportunity to go out or to stay in. There is the sniffing of the air, the tentative testing of the temperature or precipitation, and having to make up one’s mind if going outside was really the desire, after all. Over the years with our feline companions, Bob and I came to recognize this routine.
In these indecisive feline moments, depending on the kind of mood we were in, or if it was a winter morning with cold air blowing on our bare feet, and if we were unsuccessful in verbal coaxing, we had to make the decision for them: they were either nudged out the door or pulled back in to stay inside. Thus, Bob and I were not only primary care-givers: providers of meals and treats, and attention, affection, and love; but we were our cats’ doorkeepers. We ultimately determined when they would go out and when they would come in.
In a similar way, some of us are regularly going to the door and pushing some people out and inviting others in. We determine that certain people belong inside with us and others don’t. We do it as individuals; we do it as churches; we do it as communities. We divide people into friends or foes, saints or sinners, attractive or unappealing. We are doorkeepers, not only for our animal companions, but for people as well.
Yet in order to follow Jesus and hearken to His words specifically conveyed in the Beatitudes from today’s Gospel lesson, we must be willing to give up our self-appointed role as doorkeepers. What He is basically saying is that everyone who is in will be out and everyone who is out will be in. Jesus has taken the door off its hinges. The two distinct groups, the “haves” and the have-nots,” will be constantly changing places with each other until they become indistinguishable.
If the question is asked, “What is it exactly that you want out of life?” most people in our society would probably respond that they want to be rich, they want to have plenty to eat, they want to be happy, and they want others to admire them (usually because they are better looking, have a better body, or are more charming, talented, intelligent, or successful). If those are the things you also want out of life, then today’s Gospel should come as a terrible shock to you! Jesus says in no uncertain terms that it is the poor, the hungry, the sad, the rejected who are blessed. So, what you want out of life makes a difference when it comes to whether you are blessed or not.
In the original Greek of the New Testament, the word we translate as “blessed” is makarios. It had a variety of connotations, but in all its meanings, the blessed ones clearly existed on a higher plane the rest of the people: they were either gods, or they were humans who had gone to that other world of the gods; or they were the “upper crust” of society; or they were those whose supposed righteousness brought them many possessions. But Jesus uses makarios in a totally different way. It is not the elite, the rich and powerful, the high and mighty, the beautiful and buff, the possessors of many things who are blessed, though it may appear so by the world’s standards… Rather, it is the lowly, the poor, the hungry, the sobbing, the unattractive ones looked down on… who are the truly blessed.
Sadly, many really don’t want to hear this, because they’ve created a set of values which command their energies and desires, like insatiable addictions. Admittedly, it’s hard to contradict the values of the society and culture in which we live; where our role models are those celebrities and pro-athletes who seem to have attained all the “blessedness” one would ever hope to have in life; no matter how transitory or how many of the famous, mighty, and wealthy constantly fall off their pedestals. But the fact is, Jesus so strongly declares, that when you let the world call the shots for you, offering you the final word about the meaning and significance in life, you will not be blessed and will instead be relegated to hopelessness and despair.
Today is All Saints’ Sunday, when we as Christians celebrate a different set of celebrities and role-models, who lived by a different set of standards than those promoted by common notions of popularity and success. In the New Testament “saint” (small “s”) is a term used for all faithful believers. In many languages the word for saint and for holy are the same, or very similar (like in Spanish, for instance – “santo”); clearly indicating that all Christians are holy by virtue of their baptism.
The marvel is that we imperfect, deeply flawed human beings can be called by God, who alone is holy. And given the fact that in Jesus the world’s values are turned topsy-turvy; the role models we are given as His followers don’t drive the fastest most expensive cars, live in lavish homes, have the biggest bust or biceps, and command the most prestige. Confronting this “all about me” lifestyle are those new role models, the makarios, the blessed ones Jesus refers to; they are our new role models, the Saints. They exemplify the perfect stewardship to which God calls all of us.
The late noted Episcopal theologian, William Stringfellow described the Saints as “those men and women who relish the event of life as a gift and who realize that the only way to honor such a gift is to give it away.” The Church Catholic has declared these wonderful folk as bright examples for us in something that is really quite simple: namely, a deep and abiding faith in Jesus Christ, a faith that issued forth in actions, more often than not leading to their deaths, frequently under painful circumstances.
These are not remote inapproachable people; these are people like you and me who chose to do the right thing at the right time in a multitude of situations and cultures across the globe spanning the ages… they did not choose the easy way, they chose the right way… They are the ones recognized through their example by the Church on the date of their death (which is really their date of birth to the glorious life in heaven), a specially dedicated annual remembrance to them, their Feast Day, a practice going back to the Christian victims of the pagan Roman persecutions in the earliest days of Church.
On All Saint’s, we remember all of them collectively as that great company of saints which surrounds us like a cloud of witnesses, so beautifully portrayed in the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in downtown LA, on the tapestries which line the nave, with Saints from the ages facing in procession toward the high altar. Because we Christians believe in the eternal life offered us by our Lord’s Resurrection, we know that the Saints continue to live and exercise even more compassion and care in their new heavenly existence. Just as we freely ask for prayers from our close friends, parish, and loved ones, so too we ask the prayers of the Saints…the intercessions of the Holy Ones is nothing different than asking someone you love and who loves you, to pray for you.
And so we celebrate the Blessed Ones today… all the Saints on earth and all the Saints in heaven, with all the Saints who have gone before us and all the Saints who will come after us. We rejoice this day in the communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. We rejoice that the “doorkeeper” of souls is Jesus Christ our Lord, who pronounces true “blessedness.” We rejoice in God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit for having called us into God’s blessing and for having given us a totally new way of looking at life… a way which turns out, to be the only way there truly is.
Amen.
October 30, 2011 - The Reverend Carolyn Estrada
It’s costume-time! My grandchildren have vacillated from one thing to another – Batman, assorted princesses, a dinosaur, Matt Kemp, ghosts… meanwhile, even as my sewing machine has been churning out costumes – Wendy for Alex, Peter Pan for her brother, Captain Hook for their father – the adults have been fielding questions:
It’s an identity issue they will carry into Christmas, when the younger ones will be frightened of Santa, while the older ones will reassure them that it’s really just Grandpa, all dressed up…
Who is this person, really?
And, more importantly, who am I, really?
Today’s Gospel lesson is basically about identity:
Those scribes and Pharisees you see all dressed up? Don’t be fooled! It’s not in the phylacteries and the long fringes. The clothes don’t make the man!
“The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat,” Jesus tells his followers. “Therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach.”
Those scribes and Pharisees – they know a lot of important stuff that you should know! Learn it! Do whatever they teach you…
But sadly – knowledge does not necessarily inform behavior.
Just look at those scribes and Pharisees!
Closer to home, we all – you and I – know the Christian imperative to love our neighbor – to love whoever is in front of us at any particular moment – and yet we find ourselves again and again falling tragically short.
What does that say about who we are as Christians?
So – today’s question would seem to be, “How do we bridge that gap between what we know, and what we do; what we have learned, and how we live? How do we integrate who we are ‘up here’ (in our heads) and who we are ‘in here’ (in our hearts)?”
Because Christian teachings are not simply something we put on, like a Halloween costume, a cloak or a mask which we use to cover us – and then discard when we get tired or uncomfortable or it’s inconvenient, and we’re through... Christian teachings are something we absorb and live into…
So I ask myself: HOW can we take those Christian teachings into ourselves so that we can BE Christians?
Because the teachings are hard, and, if you’re like me, it can be a struggle to fully live into them!
Of course, it is a process, and it takes practice. We know that – that’s why we come together as a community – to support and inspire one another, to celebrate our successes and confess our failures.
But it also takes faith:
Our lesson from Joshua today is a concrete example of that kind of faith: as instructed, the twelve priests bearing the ark of the Covenant step into the Jordan River – which parts to become dry land so that the people may cross over. It is reminiscent of the story in Exodus of the parting of the Red Sea. According to Midrash when the Israelites were trapped between the Sea of Reeds and Pharaoh's army, and while Moses was praying to God for help, an Israelite named Nachshon decided to take matters into his own hands and leaped into the sea. Then God said to Moses "Stop praying already! Turn around and look at what your friend Nachshon has done. While you stand here praying he is taking some action!" Only then does God part the sea so that the Israelites can cross.
So yes, we pray.
But we also act.
And our world presents us with many challenges and gives us many opportunities to respond, to act, as Christians.
Certainly, we can step with love into our relationships in such a way that the waters of bigotry, or animosity, or fear, or injustice, are parted, trusting that indeed love is the better way to live.
And sometimes it feels “crazy.” Unimaginable. It doesn’t make sense! The seas don’t part like that, leaving dry land for us to walk on from one side to the other!
That’s not the way the world works!
No, it’s not.
Jesus knew that, also. That’s why he tried to teach us a different way to live, a different way of being in the world.
Because, when we’re different, the world is also different!
And when I get forgetful or discouraged or begin to question WHY? How so? Is it true? Or begin to look for loopholes and exceptions, I am sustained by Stanley Hauerwas’ remark that “I have tried to live a life I hope is unintelligible if the God we Christians worship does not exist.”
“I have tried to live a life I hope is unintelligible if the God we Christians worship does not exist.”
Such informed lives, shaped by the teachings of Jesus and unintelligible if the God we Christians worship does not exist, will surely transform this world, one life at a time.
Amen.
- Who is that, really?
- Is that scary witch REALLY a witch?
- And, scariest of all: If I wear a Superman costume, can I fly?
It’s an identity issue they will carry into Christmas, when the younger ones will be frightened of Santa, while the older ones will reassure them that it’s really just Grandpa, all dressed up…
Who is this person, really?
And, more importantly, who am I, really?
Today’s Gospel lesson is basically about identity:
Those scribes and Pharisees you see all dressed up? Don’t be fooled! It’s not in the phylacteries and the long fringes. The clothes don’t make the man!
“The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat,” Jesus tells his followers. “Therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach.”
Those scribes and Pharisees – they know a lot of important stuff that you should know! Learn it! Do whatever they teach you…
But sadly – knowledge does not necessarily inform behavior.
Just look at those scribes and Pharisees!
- And we know in our own experience that is true as well:
- most smokers can cite the Surgeon General’s report, and they smoke anyway;
- and, “Just say no!” is an admirable program – but some children going through that curriculum have also fallen into drug use, and we discover that “just saying no” isn’t quite as easy as we had thought or hoped.
- And, we all know that a healthy diet and regular exercise is important in our lives – but how many of us take what we KNOW and make it a part of what we DO?
Closer to home, we all – you and I – know the Christian imperative to love our neighbor – to love whoever is in front of us at any particular moment – and yet we find ourselves again and again falling tragically short.
What does that say about who we are as Christians?
So – today’s question would seem to be, “How do we bridge that gap between what we know, and what we do; what we have learned, and how we live? How do we integrate who we are ‘up here’ (in our heads) and who we are ‘in here’ (in our hearts)?”
Because Christian teachings are not simply something we put on, like a Halloween costume, a cloak or a mask which we use to cover us – and then discard when we get tired or uncomfortable or it’s inconvenient, and we’re through... Christian teachings are something we absorb and live into…
So I ask myself: HOW can we take those Christian teachings into ourselves so that we can BE Christians?
Because the teachings are hard, and, if you’re like me, it can be a struggle to fully live into them!
Of course, it is a process, and it takes practice. We know that – that’s why we come together as a community – to support and inspire one another, to celebrate our successes and confess our failures.
But it also takes faith:
- Faith in the one whose teachings we follow;
- Faith in the relationship we have with Jesus;
- Faith to risk and to take that first step;
- Faith that what sounds crazy – turning the other cheek, for example, or the last shall be first, or loving one’s enemies – are in fact important Truths.
Our lesson from Joshua today is a concrete example of that kind of faith: as instructed, the twelve priests bearing the ark of the Covenant step into the Jordan River – which parts to become dry land so that the people may cross over. It is reminiscent of the story in Exodus of the parting of the Red Sea. According to Midrash when the Israelites were trapped between the Sea of Reeds and Pharaoh's army, and while Moses was praying to God for help, an Israelite named Nachshon decided to take matters into his own hands and leaped into the sea. Then God said to Moses "Stop praying already! Turn around and look at what your friend Nachshon has done. While you stand here praying he is taking some action!" Only then does God part the sea so that the Israelites can cross.
So yes, we pray.
But we also act.
And our world presents us with many challenges and gives us many opportunities to respond, to act, as Christians.
Certainly, we can step with love into our relationships in such a way that the waters of bigotry, or animosity, or fear, or injustice, are parted, trusting that indeed love is the better way to live.
And sometimes it feels “crazy.” Unimaginable. It doesn’t make sense! The seas don’t part like that, leaving dry land for us to walk on from one side to the other!
That’s not the way the world works!
No, it’s not.
Jesus knew that, also. That’s why he tried to teach us a different way to live, a different way of being in the world.
Because, when we’re different, the world is also different!
And when I get forgetful or discouraged or begin to question WHY? How so? Is it true? Or begin to look for loopholes and exceptions, I am sustained by Stanley Hauerwas’ remark that “I have tried to live a life I hope is unintelligible if the God we Christians worship does not exist.”
“I have tried to live a life I hope is unintelligible if the God we Christians worship does not exist.”
Such informed lives, shaped by the teachings of Jesus and unintelligible if the God we Christians worship does not exist, will surely transform this world, one life at a time.
Amen.
October 23, 2011 - The Reverend Carolyn Estrada
What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?
Today’s lesson is the last in a series of stories from Matthew in which “the authorities” try to entrap Jesus, including, “Is it legal to pay taxes to the emperor?”; followed by: “Which of the woman’s seven husbands can claim her as wife in the resurrection?”; and now, “Which commandment in the law is the greatest?”
I can almost hear Jesus thinking, “You want to do some legal sparring? I’ll show you legal!” before he poses his own questions:
What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?
Good questions. Legitimate questions. Orthodox questions.
I wonder if they invite in us the same sort of catechetical response we hear from the Pharisees: we’ve learned the “correct” answer and proffer it accordingly.
- The son of David, the Pharisees respond.
- Jesus, the son of God, we say.
But Jesus isn’t looking for a catechetical response. He doesn’t want to know the correct, or appropriated answer. This isn’t about vocabulary, or parsing a phrase; it’s not a quiz to see if we did our homework, or a check of our memory or a test of our faith – although I think we, like the Pharisees, are easily drawn into that world. Number two pencils in hand, erasers at the ready, we’ll bubble in the right response, fill in the blank…
What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?
And then, of course, Jesus muddles up our “correct” response, making us think a bit more deeply about what we’re saying, by posing another question. (It kind of reminds me of my childhood fascination with a friend whose babysitter was her niece – the teenage daughter of her mother’s oldest sibling. Or, the mind-bender riddles kids ask: “Someone at a party introduces you to your mother’s only sister’s husband’s sister-in-law. He has no brothers. What do you call this lady?”)
Jesus uses the Pharisees own focus on the law to shift the paradigm, to move us out of the world of legal gamesmanship. His riposte is semantic, as though to expose the emptiness of the legalisms and the tests: But, David calls him ‘Lord’ – how, then, can he be his father?
All of a sudden the questions aren’t quite so simple.
What is Jesus asking, anyway?
What do you think of the Messiah?
How would we answer, really answer, that question?
Forget our catechism for a minute. And our Sunday School lessons.
What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?
Jesus asks that question right on top of having discoursed on the two greatest commandments: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind… And you shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
It’s no mistake, I think, that Jesus poses this question the way he does, placing it firmly in the context of love of God and love of neighbor.
- He doesn’t ask “WHO do you think the Messiah is?” – although I think that’s what we hear.
- He asks “WHAT do you think of the Messiah?”
- It isn’t the WHO that’s important; it’s the WHAT.
- It isn’t the name that’s important – but the action, and the interaction.
The Messiah comes to bring salvation to his people – and he does it in the context of love of God and love of neighbor!
We can all play the legalistic games of figuring out sonship and authority, or trying to name our neighbor – someone like me? Living within what radius? Looking like me? Similar lifestyle? Someone with whom I agree?
We have only more grown-up versions of my granddaughter’s foot stomping, tearful wail, as once again she expresses her frustration with her meddlesome older brother: “But I do love my neighbor. I just don’t love my brother!”
Our obsession with details can cause us to lose the message – or generate the exceptions and qualifications which render it meaningless.
- The power of the commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves does not lie in the definition of neighbor, but in the mandate to love.
- The “what” of the Messiah is not in his lineage to David, but in his love of God and humankind.
If we’re focused on counting how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, we lose sight of the fact that the angels are dancing!
Jesus’ question takes us out of that realm of “literal” and moves us into a more fundamental, more life-giving realm. It is underneath those designations – Lord, son, neighbor, brother, sister, wife, gentile, Jew – that we find the essence of the Messiah, the love of God and neighbor on which hang all the law and the prophets.
Jimmy Carter tells of learning the profound implications of love of God and love of neighbor, not from Scripture, not from theological commentary, but from the real life lessons of working with Elroy Cruz, a pastor from Brooklyn, in the dangerous alleyways of the barrio, rife with gangs and drug dealers and the desperate lives of the marginalized poor. “In the midst of all the violence and despair - where did you get your gentleness?” Carter asked him, “and your love?” “Well,” Elroy responded, “our Savior – the Messiah! – cannot do much with a man who is hard.” And then he added, “You only need two loves in your life: for God, and for the person in front of you at any particular time.” (cited in Christian Century, October 4, 2005, p. 6).
Our Savior – the Messiah! – cannot do much with a man – a woman, a person! – who is hard.
And I am reminded of how easily we allow ourselves to become hard – shaped by pride or anger, or resentment, or bitterness, or hurt; how our hearts can be hardened by grudges or stubbornness or frustration or guilt…
The Messiah cannot do much with a person who is hard.
And, we need only two loves in our life: for God, and for the person in front of us at any particular time.
Soft hearts.
Love of God.
Love of neighbor.
What do you think of the Messiah?
I think Jesus challenges us to think of the Messiah as embodied in the loving relationships between us and God – and us and one another, our neighbors.
We find the Messiah in those two great commandments!
And, as we live them out, the Messiah is being born, again and again, into our midst!
Lord, son, brother, sister, neighbor, mother, wife…
Not in the name, but in the relationship, the love.
In the book Testimony: Talking Ourselves Into Being Christian, the author, Thomas Long, tells about an exchange between a young bookstore clerk and a Hasidic Jew. (p. 21) “Would you like any help?” the clerk asked. “Yes,” the man responded, “I want to know about Jesus.” She led him to the religion section where there were shelves filled with books about Jesus, academic as well as popular, and about the early history of Christianity, but as she turned to go, he called her back. “No,” he said. “I want to know about Jesus the Messiah. Don’t show me any more books. You tell me what you believe.”
Tell me what you believe.
Is it a name?
Jesus?
Whose son is he?
Or is there more, deeper? What does it mean?
What do you think of the Messiah?
Amen.
October 16, 2011 - Father Mark D. Stuart
May I speak in the Name of God, who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Last Sunday in my sermon I reminded you that one thing we can count on in life is change. But to defer to one of my favorite American authors, Mark Twain; we can also add that the only two certainties in life are death and taxes. These days it appears that most Americans seem to be more graciously accepting of death than of taxes. With local, state, and federal budgets all seemingly in crisis with the current economy; and the topic of taxes much in the public debate these days, I am going to resist partisanism by saying nothing further on the subject. But I will add - did you know that April 15th is not only income tax day, but it is also the date the Titanic sunk and the date Lincoln was shot? Most people don’t enjoy paying taxes, except maybe the magnanimous Warren Buffet; but we just do it.
Well the people of Jesus’ day had to pay taxes, too. Even worse, they had to pay them to the Roman occupying government they despised. A portion of their hard-earned income ended up in Caesar’s pocket and this made the Jews very unhappy, indeed! They were a proud people and truly resented the Roman domination. Thus, Jesus’ dilemma when asked the loaded question: “Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” Either likely answer would potentially lead into dangerous waters for Jesus; he would either offend the devout Jewish populace or be accused of treason by the Romans.
Well, Jesus very deftly avoided both. “Whose likeness do you see on this coin?” he asked. “Caesar’s” they answered. “Render then,” he said, “to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s.” The modern translation of this text in our lectionary, reads, “give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s…” Being a bit of a wordsmith, I prefer the word most of us probably are familiar with in this story, “render.” According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, the meaning of “render” in this context is to give in return or in acknowledgment of dependence and thus has a richer meaning than just the word “give.”
Of course, the very clever thing about this story of Jesus’ encounter with the Herodians and Pharisees is that he never answers their question. But his answer ought to settle the matter, doesn’t it? There are things that belong to Caesar, like the money with which we pay taxes and there are things that belong to God… Such as? Well, there’s the problem. Jesus’ response raises some important questions. How and where do you draw the line between the things that belong to Caesar and the things that belong to God? What are the things of Caesar and what are the things of God?
In our contemporary Western mindset we like to put things neatly into compartments and easy to find categories. Being well-organized Westerners we find it makes sense to categorize our information for quick and efficient access. In this mentality one could look at our Gospel story today and infer that “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s,” means that some things belong to Caesar and other things belong to God. But we need to revisit such an interpretation.
Many of us old time Episcopalians remember what we used to say every Sunday when the offering plates were presented at the altar: “All things come of Thee. O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee.” Jesus was a devout Jew who every Sabbath recited the Shema: “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.” Our God has a claim on all our life, so what then is left to render unto Caesar? The image of Caesar was printed on the coins, but the image of God is on every human life. Still, rendering unto Caesar is pretty clear in our society. What Caesar wants Caesar gets – end of subject.
Rendering unto Caesar does not evoke a dilemma, but for many rendering unto God does. We all have heard from certain church members of any denomination that the church talks too much about money. Giving to the work of God through the tangible community of the Body of Christ in the world, namely the Church; is a low priority for a lot of folks. One might assert that is the case for two reasons.
First, as a culture we are becoming more materialistic; it’s difficult to have the latest I-Phone, the fanciest car, the biggest HD, 3-D plasma TV, and all one’s other toys and still give 10% to the church. It’s like the little boy who was given two quarters – one for Sunday School and one for an ice cream cone. Walking along the street one day, one of the quarters slipped out of his hand and fell through the grillwork and into the drain below. The little boy raised his face toward heaven and said with genuine sorrow, “Well, God, there goes your quarter.” Think about it – we are increasingly materialistic.
In the second place, there is something intrinsically seductive about money. Money can become like a drug. It’s like the true story of the German businessman who was worth over 11 billion dollars when the recession hit a couple of years ago. He lost 5 billion dollars in the careening stock market and was absolutely devastated he was now only worth 6 billion dollars. Wrought with grief over his tragic circumstances he threw himself in front of a train, because his life was not worth living with only 6 billion dollars in assets. This true story sounds more like a parable of Jesus.
Jesus devoted more to the subject of money and belongings than to any other subject in all his teaching and preaching. Some things don’t seem to change in 2,000 years – the worship of material possessions and money is the most widely practiced religion in our country today. But please don’t misunderstand; as you know Scripture does not say that money is the root of all evil. It is, rather, the love of money that is the problem, when the worship of money and material things competes with God.
When we understand that everything we have, everything we are, and everything we can ever hope to be is a gift from God, and when we understand the magnitude of this reality our hearts will be captivated with the love and grace God has lavished upon us. Then we will comprehend the great joy and privilege of being faithful with our whole being. When you find the perfect gift to give someone you love very much, you are thrilled to present it to them and don’t fret about the cost. You feel the joy they will have in receiving it and the joy you yourself experience in giving it. That is what rendering unto God is like. When we are in tune with the Holy Spirit we will know the joy of rendering unto God which brings joy and fulfillment the way rendering unto Caesar never can!
Amen.
Last Sunday in my sermon I reminded you that one thing we can count on in life is change. But to defer to one of my favorite American authors, Mark Twain; we can also add that the only two certainties in life are death and taxes. These days it appears that most Americans seem to be more graciously accepting of death than of taxes. With local, state, and federal budgets all seemingly in crisis with the current economy; and the topic of taxes much in the public debate these days, I am going to resist partisanism by saying nothing further on the subject. But I will add - did you know that April 15th is not only income tax day, but it is also the date the Titanic sunk and the date Lincoln was shot? Most people don’t enjoy paying taxes, except maybe the magnanimous Warren Buffet; but we just do it.
Well the people of Jesus’ day had to pay taxes, too. Even worse, they had to pay them to the Roman occupying government they despised. A portion of their hard-earned income ended up in Caesar’s pocket and this made the Jews very unhappy, indeed! They were a proud people and truly resented the Roman domination. Thus, Jesus’ dilemma when asked the loaded question: “Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” Either likely answer would potentially lead into dangerous waters for Jesus; he would either offend the devout Jewish populace or be accused of treason by the Romans.
Well, Jesus very deftly avoided both. “Whose likeness do you see on this coin?” he asked. “Caesar’s” they answered. “Render then,” he said, “to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s.” The modern translation of this text in our lectionary, reads, “give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s…” Being a bit of a wordsmith, I prefer the word most of us probably are familiar with in this story, “render.” According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, the meaning of “render” in this context is to give in return or in acknowledgment of dependence and thus has a richer meaning than just the word “give.”
Of course, the very clever thing about this story of Jesus’ encounter with the Herodians and Pharisees is that he never answers their question. But his answer ought to settle the matter, doesn’t it? There are things that belong to Caesar, like the money with which we pay taxes and there are things that belong to God… Such as? Well, there’s the problem. Jesus’ response raises some important questions. How and where do you draw the line between the things that belong to Caesar and the things that belong to God? What are the things of Caesar and what are the things of God?
In our contemporary Western mindset we like to put things neatly into compartments and easy to find categories. Being well-organized Westerners we find it makes sense to categorize our information for quick and efficient access. In this mentality one could look at our Gospel story today and infer that “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s,” means that some things belong to Caesar and other things belong to God. But we need to revisit such an interpretation.
Many of us old time Episcopalians remember what we used to say every Sunday when the offering plates were presented at the altar: “All things come of Thee. O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee.” Jesus was a devout Jew who every Sabbath recited the Shema: “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.” Our God has a claim on all our life, so what then is left to render unto Caesar? The image of Caesar was printed on the coins, but the image of God is on every human life. Still, rendering unto Caesar is pretty clear in our society. What Caesar wants Caesar gets – end of subject.
Rendering unto Caesar does not evoke a dilemma, but for many rendering unto God does. We all have heard from certain church members of any denomination that the church talks too much about money. Giving to the work of God through the tangible community of the Body of Christ in the world, namely the Church; is a low priority for a lot of folks. One might assert that is the case for two reasons.
First, as a culture we are becoming more materialistic; it’s difficult to have the latest I-Phone, the fanciest car, the biggest HD, 3-D plasma TV, and all one’s other toys and still give 10% to the church. It’s like the little boy who was given two quarters – one for Sunday School and one for an ice cream cone. Walking along the street one day, one of the quarters slipped out of his hand and fell through the grillwork and into the drain below. The little boy raised his face toward heaven and said with genuine sorrow, “Well, God, there goes your quarter.” Think about it – we are increasingly materialistic.
In the second place, there is something intrinsically seductive about money. Money can become like a drug. It’s like the true story of the German businessman who was worth over 11 billion dollars when the recession hit a couple of years ago. He lost 5 billion dollars in the careening stock market and was absolutely devastated he was now only worth 6 billion dollars. Wrought with grief over his tragic circumstances he threw himself in front of a train, because his life was not worth living with only 6 billion dollars in assets. This true story sounds more like a parable of Jesus.
Jesus devoted more to the subject of money and belongings than to any other subject in all his teaching and preaching. Some things don’t seem to change in 2,000 years – the worship of material possessions and money is the most widely practiced religion in our country today. But please don’t misunderstand; as you know Scripture does not say that money is the root of all evil. It is, rather, the love of money that is the problem, when the worship of money and material things competes with God.
When we understand that everything we have, everything we are, and everything we can ever hope to be is a gift from God, and when we understand the magnitude of this reality our hearts will be captivated with the love and grace God has lavished upon us. Then we will comprehend the great joy and privilege of being faithful with our whole being. When you find the perfect gift to give someone you love very much, you are thrilled to present it to them and don’t fret about the cost. You feel the joy they will have in receiving it and the joy you yourself experience in giving it. That is what rendering unto God is like. When we are in tune with the Holy Spirit we will know the joy of rendering unto God which brings joy and fulfillment the way rendering unto Caesar never can!
Amen.
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