January 30, 2011 - The Reverend Doctor Ellen R. Hill

Epiphany 4

Is your life complicated? That’s probably a question I don’t need to ask because everyone I know lives a complicated life. The reality is that we live in a very complex world and it seems to grow more and more complex day by day. So regardless of what your work is, whether you work in an office, a hospital, a library, teach at a school or university, work in local government or are a student, whatever your daily work is, it’s probably full of complexity.

Furthermore, it doesn’t seem to matter whether you’re white collar, blue collar or no collar at all, every form of work has it’s paperwork; it’s rules and regulations, as well as its relational difficulties with co-workers, bosses, clients, employees, customers, students or teachers. And if all those things aren’t enough stress producing pressures, our family lives also tend to be complicated.

Most couples are made up of two working persons and so arranging for two jobs, two careers and the demands of those work responsibilities make it extremely complicated when you try to reconcile them with the demands of running a house and the obligations the couple or single person might have to children, elderly parents or animals. Everything about our families, from transportation to who gets the babysitter or takes the dog to the vet or does the shopping or picks up the cleaning, gets very complicated which is probably why we all have a need for Church to be simple. Why we all have in our minds an idealistic picture of that little “brown church in the vale”.

But almost no one goes to “the little brown church in the vale” anymore. Most people, if they go to church at all go to larger and more complicated churches where people have different priorities, different spiritual needs as well as different tastes and preferences. So if you add to all that the complexities of buildings and budgets and personalities, you realize how complicated modern church life is.

If we’re willing to recognize that the personal level of our lives: our work, our family and our church are all fairly complicated, it gets even worse if we dare to look at our society. We all know there are a lot of very smart people in Washington and yet they can’t seem to figure out how to save social security or improve our public school systems or make our health delivery systems more accessible and it’s not because they aren’t smart enough to do it. Most of the time it has more to do with their own particular self-interests, while at other times it’s the complexities of the problems with which they’re faced. For the issues they’re struggling with is how we, as society, balance our generational obligations. In other words, how do we balance the obligation we have to the older generation for their care and at the same time seek to be faithful to the children who are coming along which will ultimately determine both the kind of society we have, as well as what kind of national debt we pass on to our children.

In short, these are not simple problems. And right here in our own communities in Santa Ana, Anaheim, Tustin, Irvine, Costa Mesa, Fullerton and South Orange County there are issues of poverty, homelessness, drug addiction, racial tensions as well as unique local problems which further complicate our lives. What I want to suggest this morning is that all this complexity in which we live is a form of darkness. Now I don’t mean to imply that all complexity is somehow wicked. I don’t mean that at all! But all of the complexities we face do put us in a situation where we frequently can’t see very clearly which way to turn.

Life seems to have tentacles going out in so many different directions. Whenever we wiggle just a little way over here we often find that we may have negatively affected someone or something over there. So it’s tough, in fact sometimes it’s really impossible, to see all the outcomes, all the effects, all the implications of a decision or an act or a direction we might take in our individual lives. That’s what I mean by a darkness. That sense that we can’t always see very clearly what lies ahead in our future when we’re trying to make a decision.

This season of Epiphany, which comes between Christmas and Lent, is that time in the year when the church has traditionally looked to the teachings of Jesus as a light which has come into our world. In a way what we’re saying in this season is that Jesus Christ, is in effect, like a bright flash of light in the darkness of our lives. A stark bolt of lightening, which illuminates everything even in the midst of all that darkness. So this morning I’d like to have us think for a few moments about the present complexities of our own lives and how Christ, that bolt of lightening actually offers us an opportunity to place the blessing of simplicity at the center of our lives.

If you went to Sunday School as a child you probably had to memorize the Beatitudes. We all know them. Those wonderful little proverbs we heard once again this morning which invite us into a life of simplicity. But the problem is, the Beatitudes aren’t just clever little phrases which we can easily apply to our lives. They’re way too full of paradox which is why I think it’s so hard for us to see them as invitation to a way of life that has simplicity at it’s core. Personally, I’ve always struggled with them because they seem so incredibly irrelevant to the complexity of my contemporary life.

Just listen: Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven. If there’s a paradoxical Beatitude it’s gotta be this one. Have you every thought about all the apparent contradictions in that one little sentence? Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven. How in the world are we supposed to equate the poverty of our soul with Heaven? Doesn’t that seem incongruous? And to make it even stranger, here’s Jesus, the one we call our Lord and Savior, the Messiah advocating poverty of the spirit. Wouldn’t you expect a religious leader to have recommended richness of soul and spirit? But the wonderful paradoxical nature of this Beatitude can only be seen clearly if we’re willing to think of its reverse.

Do you know anyone who is rich in spirit? Do you know anyone who is so sure that they have the theological doctrines, liturgies, Bible studies, as well as their view of God and their prayer life completely squared away so that you could honestly say that they’re just full up and rich in the spirit? And if you do know anyone like that, do you really like them? You see, in a way, what Jesus is saying is blessed are those who know that they don’t know it all! Blessed are those who understand that they don’t know God well enough! Blessed are those who know and acknowledge with humility that they still have a long, long way to go in life. Theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Or take the Beatitude which says: Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted. At one level we all know that grief is a universal experience. It’s something that everyone, if they live any time at all, experiences not just in the loss of loved ones but also over a multiplicity of lesser losses which confront us with a host of smaller griefs. Losses of friends as they move away to pursue careers. Losses of homes and friendships as we move on pursuing our life and vocation. Losses of children as they grow up and move away. Over and over, they hit our lives much like the waves hit our beaches. And they accumulate in our lives like the shells that are tossed up on the beach.

Blessed are they that mourn: Who love simply and grieve purely. Who love simply and weep passionately. Who love simply and acknowledge the pain of loss. Blessed are those who are willing to walk through the valley of the shadow of death for it’s only those, the ones who are willing to walk through the darkness, who’ll come around to the sunshine again. The simplicity there lies in trusting the feelings that God has given us.

Or what about the Beatitude which goes: Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth. Do you know any self-help book about how to get rich and inherit the earth that recommends meekness? I sure don’t! Generally, meekness is associated in our minds with mousiness which is why we’re not very likely to say blessed are the mousey. But I think that here what Jesus may have been saying is: Blessed are those who don’t take themselves too seriously.

One of the most complicating things that we can do in life is to think that we’re indispensable because it will always come as a horrible shock and cause incredible havoc in our lives if we allow ourselves to think that we’re the only one who can perform a certain task or love a certain person or accomplish something of value in the world. Our lives are so much better and in some deep sense the world IS OURS when we can admit that the whole world is God’s. That it rides on God’s shoulders and not ours. Blessed are the meek. Blessed are those who know they’re not the most important people in the world and shouldn’t take themselves too seriously.

And that brings us to Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy. We don’t usually think of forgiveness as something that parallels simplicity because most of the time the act of forgiving is touchy and complicated. But if we’re honest with ourselves, it’s also true that our lives become infinitely more complicated when we hold grudges and seek revenge. One of the most complicating things we can do to our lives is to hold a grudge or seek redress when we get hurt.

Several weeks ago in his column in the New York Times David Brooks pointed out that our nation would benefit greatly from a return to civility which would require our embrace of a sense of modesty especially in our national political life. He ended his column by quoting that extraordinary theologian Reinhold Niebuhr who many years ago observed:

“Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime, therefore, we must be saved by hope. Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone. Therefore, we are saved by love. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our standpoint. Therefore, we must be saved by the final form of love which is forgiveness”

Blessed are the merciful for they shall know the simplicity of forgiveness.

And finally, Blessed are the pure in heart. Is there anyone here this morning whose heart is pure? I know mine isn’t. I get up every morning wanting about a hundred different things most of which are mutually contradictory. It’s amazing the things we want simultaneously. Imagine what it would be like to have a heart so pure that one desire was dominant and overshadowed everything else. Like the desire to love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength and your neighbor as yourself. What a wonderful simplicity and purity of heart: a purity of desire, a purity of wishing, a purity of striving to want that one thing more than anything else and to let all the rest of the things that we think we might want and need fall comfortably where they might.

Jesus didn’t invent this call to develop simplicity at our center. Centuries before there was a prophet by the name of Micah who lived in a time when people had largely forgotten God and had reduced religion to ritualistic efforts to placate God by a complex system of sacrifice. Micah uttered those words we heard in our Old Testament lesson this morning words that have echoed powerfully across the centuries:

“What does the Lord require of thee but to do justice,

to love kindness and to walk humbly with God”

Micah wasn’t suggesting, and I’m not suggesting, that if we follow that advice our lives will ever be simple because they won’t. Most of us are called into the complexity of the world where we’ll live our lives and where our souls will be nurtured or starved to death.

But it is possible, perhaps paradoxically possible, to have a certain simplicity in the middle of the incredible complexity of our 21^st century lives. A simplicity which can make all the difference in the world. And that’s precisely the simplicity that’s offered to us in those wonderful proverbs of Christ that we call the Beatitudes. For in the darkness of our complicated lives it’s still possible for that bolt of lightening to strike and that blinding flash of light to illuminate the darkness of our individual lives so that we can acknowledge Christ’s simple invitation to create a haven of simplicity at our center. May that lightening strike us all again during this Epiphany season.....Amen

January 23, 2011 - Dee Tucker, Senior Warden

Epiphany 3

Isaiah 9:1 -4 Psalm 27:1, 5- 13 I Corinthians 1:10 – 18 Matthew 4:12 – 23

Good morning, I am serving this year as Senior Warden for the Messiah vestry. If you are visiting today, that is like the President of the Board. As in all Episcopal parishes, the Vestry is the elected governing body of the parish. In addition to the Rector, the Vestry is composed of the senior and junior wardens and ten other members who oversee the work of the church. It is my joy to stand before you today in that capacity.

Today we heard in Isaiah, “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness –on them light has shined.’ The passage is repeated in Matthew. What is the background of this passage that invites us to rise and shine? The Jews had just come back to the Promised Land, back to Jerusalem, back to their old farms and houses after many decades in exile. What were the peoples’ feelings? Most likely, they were depressed. When they came back to Israel their farms were rubble, their cities were rubble, their businesses were rubble, their sons had been killed, their husbands eliminated. And everybody was depressed.

Into that depressing situation of the aftermath of war, the prophet Isaiah wrote: “Those of you who walk in darkness, Rise. Shine. Get up. Get going. Your light has already come. God’s light is already shining upon you.” He said, “Lift up your heads.” I love that line. Those of you, who have your chins down, lift them up. Those of you, who have closed your eyes, open them up. Those of you, who are wallowing in depression, wake up and get up. Your light has already come.

These uplifting words were not written during the time of Father Abraham who had all those wives, all those concubines, all those kids, all that cattle, and all those sheep. Things were going well for Father Abraham, and so he heard the words, “Rise, shine, get up and get going and it will get ever better for you.” No. Nor were these words written during the time of King David who was a military hero. “Rise and shine David, and you will win even more military battles.” Nor were these words spoken to King Solomon who had more riches and wealth than the world had ever seen. “Rise, shine, Solomon, and you will get even richer.”

No. These words were written to people who were very depressed by what life had given them. These words were for people who felt like quitting, who felt like giving up, who felt like tossing in the towel.

All people in the world go through periods of depression. There are no exceptions. I remember the Charlie Brown cartoon where Charlie put out the sign that said, “Psychiatrist, 5 cents.” Lucy came to see Charlie, paid him five cents, and said she was depressed. She said to Charlie, “I want to go from an up to an upper up, from an upper up to an uppity upper up.” Lucy wanted life to always go up, but life is never like that for very long. Life goes up and down and down and up. We all have ups and downs, and when the world is down for us and very difficult, approaching depression or having crossed that line, we hear the words of Isaiah, “Rise, shine. Your light has already come. God’s glorious presence is already shining above you.”

You may be so depressed that say to God, “I don’t feel like getting up. I don’t feel like rising. I don’t feel like going.” I have been there – In 1992 my husband left our 20 year marriage…and I was hurt, sad, angry, then sunk into depression…sitting at home on the couch having great ‘pity’ parties. I went to church with my parents during that time and heard the pastor say, ‘give to God and much will be given to you.’ I had to leave the service and go outside – and rail at God, ‘I have given all my life…is this what I get?’ One day sitting on my couch I felt God puts his hands under my arms and start lifting me up. He said, Dee there is a park across the street – you need to take a walk. Rise. Shine.

What does it mean when God says, “Rise. Shine. Your light has already come. The glory of God is already shining above you?”

The most obvious is that God’s spark is already in you. When you were created God put his divine light into you. The light is the source of energy. You wouldn’t have energy without the sun. Energy comes from that light. Spiritual and emotional energy comes from the Son as well, the Son of God. The very light that is inside of you, helping you to stand up is the same light that is above you, giving you energy. And so you have the energy of God inside of you and the energy of God above you, for God is light and light is energy.

To all of us this day and the rest of the days of our lives, God says, “Rise. Shine. Your light has already come. My light lives within you. My light is above you. My light is guidance. My light is energy. Get up. Get going. Your light has already come.”

In the fall of 2009, Father Brad asked me to lunch and you know, he asked me to return to vestry. I had served a three year term with one year off as required by the By-Laws of this parish. I said yes. He went on to say I would you to be Senior Warden. I was surprised as I can give Father Brad a ‘hard time’….I thought about it, prayed about it and asked later, ‘are you thinking of retiring?’ Of course, the answer was ‘yes, he said, and he went on to say – and you are the person that can do this work, Dee.’ And you know, I think he was right! Hannah said to me recently, “I’ve noticed your extraordinary leadership skills, Dee. Where did you learn those?’ The answer – my mother would have told you – ‘she came out of the womb bossing everyone around.’ What I do believe now is that every experience of my life has led me to this place and this task. Yes, I believe God led me to this place, to do this work, at this time. My job is right down the street – the chancellor of the colleges believes management must be working for the betterment of the community – because we are a community college. When the task began it was hard, ‘all I could do was pray, God, give me grace, this is hard. God give me grace this is hard.’ And amazingly I am a better person each day – my faith is deeper, I am praying in a different way – for open heart and mind. I am listening to you, to the Bishop’s office and to the Holy Spirit.

Yes, we, Messiah, members of this parish, are in this time of transition with coming loss of Father Brad. Many of us are feeling sad and anxious about the future. To you it may seem like nothing is happening – yet, your vestry has been working diligently on the transition work. We have learned that this is primarily a spiritual process. It is a prime time for renewal in the congregation. It is a time when new leadership comes forth and new connections are made with the bishop and the wider diocesan community. We know it is a time to review and restate the hopes and dreams of the parish. This can not happen overnight…patience, openness and prayer are needed. The profile committee will complete their work in the spring. The compensation committee is developing the salary package that will be used when a new rector is called. The Search/Discernment committee will begin their work in late spring. On October 2 this year, we will have a grand celebration of Father Brad’s work here in this place. I encourage you to celebrate with him in the coming months whenever and how ever you choose. On October 3^rd, an interim begin working with us. The vestry is in negotiation with someone and will soon be able to share more. In order for messiah to live beyond Father Brad it must live without Father Brad. Together we must Rise. Shine. Share the light with each other and our community.

Roger comes to tend to our gardens – ahhhh light of God!

Stephanie Miller plans each Sunday’s lessons guiding the volunteers that teach our children – light of God! Gene Dery faithfully leads the ushers every single month – light of God! Brian Kelley comes each Wednesday morning to pray for others – light of God! Jean Hollingshead washes and irons the altar linens – light of God! When you go downstairs in a few minutes you will see the light of God setting the tables, serving the food!

Where are you using your light here in this place? Rise. Shine. For your light has come. I grew up in a southern Baptist church – and we sang a lot – loud and passionately:

This little light of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine
This little light of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine
This little light of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine
Let it shine,
Let it shine,Let it shine.

All God’s light filled people said AMEN.

January 16, 2011- The Reverend Carolyn Estrada

Isaiah 49:1 – 7 Psalm 40:1 – 10 1 Corinthians 1:1 – 9 John 1:29 – 41

“What are you looking for?” Jesus asks the two disciples.

“What are you looking for? – a handout? A healing? An autograph?”

I place myself in that scene, kind of following along behind Jesus – at a safe distance, of course – I don’t want to get too close, but I am curious – and Jesus suddenly turning, looking me in the eye, and saying, “What are you looking for?”

What am I looking for?

What do I want from Jesus?

What do we want?

If I could get past being tongue-tied, shocked into silence by the forthrightness of the question, what would I say? Would I trot out my laundry list of things: world peace; healing and health for everyone I know; an end to rains and mudslides, earthquakes and tsunamis; eradication of poverty and hunger; an end to violence, killings, assassinations?

I’m looking for a perfect world – fix it, Jesus, please!

Certainly the disciples might have been looking for some of the same things: liberation from Roman rule; peace; healing and health for everyone; an end to natural disasters; an eradication of poverty and hunger.

But that’s not how they respond to Jesus’ question, “What are you looking for?”

“Rabbi,” they say, “Teacher – where are you staying?”

I’m not sure the word “staying” here does full justice to what the disciples are asking. The same word in Greek – meno – is translated elsewhere in John as “abiding” – not as a temporary shelter, but as a permanent place of being. They are asking, “Where is it that you live?”

They are following Jesus because they sense in him something powerful – a force, a presence. There is something that draws them to him, and they want a share of it!

“What are you looking for?” Jesus asks them.

Whatever it is you’ve got! Whatever it is that animates you! May I have some, too?

Elsewhere in John Jesus’ response to a similar question is, “I abide in my Father, and my Father in me…”

Here Jesus simply says, “Come and see.”

Come and see.

Little children make that demand.

They don’t tell us –they take us by the hand and lead us into their world…

“Come and see,” Jesus tells Andrew.

Words aren’t enough.

Words might just wash over us.

You need to see, engage, be drawn into what I have to offer.

Jesus doesn’t fix the world; he offers us a new way of being in the world!

Today we celebrate the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr.

He might well have been Andrew or one of the other disciples, following Jesus at a safe distance.

His daddy was a preacher, and he grew up in the church, after all. He could well have been a pew-follower of Jesus – I’ve heard of you, I’m curious, interested – but keeping a safe distance, a “telling” distance, not a “seeing” distance, much as we all are wont to do.

But then something happened.

Jesus turned to him, looked him in the eye, and said “What are you looking for?”

“What are you looking for?”

King’s obvious answer is “Justice. Equality. An end to segregation, discrimination…”

Fix it, Jesus!

But I’m sure there is more. I don’t think King started there, that that’s his first answer to Jesus’ question.

Because as much as we remember King as a political activist and change agent, he was a Christian whose activism was shaped by his religious beliefs.

King responded to Jesus’ call to “Come and see” and discovered himself transformed by that abiding place.

Jesus tells us repeatedly that it’s not safe to come and see, to follow him: He exhorts people to “take up their cross,” and then warns of arrests and persecutions.

Following Jesus is not a “feel good” proposition, something King knew intimately: King was stabbed three times, physically attacked three more times, bombed in his home three times, and jailed fourteen times before he was shot to death at the age of 39.

So – what’s the draw?

When a good man is striving to do the work of God in the world and something bad – lots of bad things! - happen, it’s easy to ask the question, “Where is God in all this?”

Where is God when things aren’t safe?

Where was God when King was shot?

When the Gabby Giffords and the others in that crowd were shot down?

When I lost my job or my spouse or my child?

When my life turned upside down?

Why follow Jesus?

Because there is something compelling about him.

Because, if we open our heart and let him in, let him abide there, something wonderful and amazing and transforming happens to us: we begin to see the world with new eyes; we begin to see ourselves in the world in a new way; we begin to let go of those fears and concerns which wall us off into our own separate fiefdoms and see our commonality as children of God.

God doesn’t promise safety.

God promises relationship.

Martin Luther King, Jr., got up out of his comfortable pew and responded to Jesus’ call to “Come and see,” and was transformed.
He realized, he said, that “The ultimate measure of a person is not where they stand in moments of comfort and convenience, but where they stand at times of challenge and controversy. The true neighbor will risk position, prestige, and even life for the welfare of others. In dangerous valleys and hazardous pathways, they lift some bruised and beaten others to higher and more noble lives.”

He also said, “If a person hasn’t found something they will die for, they aren’t fit to live.”
Joan Chittister comments that with those words Martin Luther King “takes the indifference of all of us and turns it into the stuff of sin” (Chittister: A Passion for Life: Fragments from the Face of God, p. 42).
Harsh words! Frightening – and challenging! – at least for me.
I’m comfortable.
I don’t want to get beat up, or die, or go to jail. I can be compassionate – but I want to set limits on it, what I will and won't do as a response.
I care – but sometimes it’s easier to care at a distance.
Do I have to get up and do something? Be up-close-and-personal about my neighbor far away – a distance often not as great geographically as it is in terms of lifestyle?


It’s encouraging to me that Jesus chose as his disciples ordinary, flawed human beings, people who repeatedly “didn’t get it,” who often stumbled and fell and had to pick themselves up again.
It gives me hope.
And yet – if we do more than just hear the words of Jesus, if we “come and see” and experience his abiding place in God, we can no longer be indifferent – or fearful.
We will be caught up in relationship, in a passion for life; we will no longer live as though we belong only to ourselves, but in the sure and certain knowledge that we belong to God!

Joan Chittister tells us that King left us four things:

• “the courage to confront evil square on without the hope of being able to ignore it;
  
• the courage to confront ourselves square on without the luxury of despair;
  
• the courage to love when hate is more satisfying;
  
• and, the courage to continue to live until death so that others may have life.”
  

That’s quite a legacy.
It’s the legacy of a man whose life was transformed because he had the courage to respond when Jesus said, “Come and see.”


Today, let us each consider how we might respond to Jesus’ question, “What are you looking for?”


What are you looking for?

Come, and see.

Amen.