We might be made of ashes, but we are more than mere dust in the wind

“You are going to die!”  That’s how one of my colleagues (The Rev. Rob Baldwin, Rector of Trinity in Lawrence, KS) said he’s going to begin his Ash Wednesday homily.

Another colleague is calling attention to the lyrics of “Dust in the Wind”, a chart-topping hit in the 1970’s by the group Kansas (a rock group formed in 1970 in Topeka, KS): “Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea.  All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see… Dust in the wind - all we are is dust in the wind…. Now, don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky.  It slips away, and all your money won't another minute buy.  Dust in the wind - all we are is dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind.” (Randall Curtis: http://videosforyoursoul.com/portfolio/ash-wednesday-dust-in-the-wind/)

Indeed, we are going to die. 

Indeed, the ‘things’ we think are so important in this life will, eventually, crumble to the ground. 

Indeed, our bodies are animated dust… and to dust we shall return. 

And, as Christians, we don’t believe “all we are is dust in the wind.”  We believe we’re more that isolated, lonely drops of water in an endless sea – we are beloved by God and marked as Christ’s own forever through our baptism.  We believe that something does last forever – God’s promise to us of everlasting life through Christ.  And, we’re called to live out this good news together in Christian community.

Welcome Ash Wednesday, my friends.  This will mark our transition into Lent, the season of our church year in which we grapple the realities of mortality as well as prepare for participation in the promise of resurrected life. 

As many of you know well, we give up saying ‘Alleluia!’  and singing the Gloria during the season of Lent as we enter 40 days of somber reflection and solemn preparation.  And, as the Psalmist reminds us today (Psalm 103:8-14), even as we move through this time of reflections on our sins and mortality, we maintain faith and hope because: “The Lord is full of compassion and mercy, slow to anger and of great kindness.  He will not always accuse us, nor will he keep his anger forever.  He has not dealt with us according to our sins, nor rewarded us according to out wickedness.  For as the heavens are high above the earth, so is God’s mercy great upon those who hear him.”

Lent (from the Old English word lengten), is a time of year when the daylight is lengthening again which underscores that we’re entering a time of growth and renewal.  The spirit of our Lenten season originated out of the quality of time spent by early church ancestors as they made their final preparations for baptism on Easter (when Easter was the time to initiate people into the faith).  It also became a time during which those who had fallen away from the faith were reconciled and prepared for restoration in the community.

Here’s something memorable to consider…  We’re invited to embrace our 40’s during Lent.  Lest you hear that we’re being asked to stretch our chronological age in either direction, let me clarify that this invitation is to a special time of awareness and transition – time in the desert, if you will.

In our biblical stories, times of 40 signal an important time in our journey with God.  For instance:

1. 40 days and nights of the great flood (Gen 7:4)
2. 40 days Noah waits before exiting the Ark (Gen 8:3-8)
3. 40 years in the desert wilderness as the followers of Moses leave captivity and traveled to a promised land (Num 14: 33; Deut 29: 4)
4. 40 days, twice, of Moses fasting on Mt. Sinai while re-affirming covenant with God (Exod 24:18,28; 34:28) – AS WE HEARD THIS PAST SUNDAY
5. 40 days that David was taunted by Goliath (1 Sam 17:16)
6. 40 days that Elijah fasted in the wilderness when all seemed against him (1 Kings 19:8)
7. the Holy Spirit lead/drove Jesus, after his baptism, into the desert for 40 days to  be tempted and tested (Matt 4:1-11; Mark 1:12-13; Luke 4:1-13)
8. and, as we’ll consider after Easter, 40 days that the resurrected Jesus helped prepare his followers from the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost (Acts 1:3)

…and so on.

What do all of these 40’s have in common?  The characters in these stories weren’t choosing to enter these 40’s for their health or vanities about self-discipline (I believe I’ll give up chocolate or do more exercise for forty days).  No, they were generally led into 40’s by God for a higher purpose.  Whether forty is numbering days or years, whether the journeys are literal or metaphorical, they’re all periods marked by: being in between; waiting; trials of trust; tests of will and spiritual mettle; and precursors foreshadowing some form of liberating deliverance or salvation.  Forty represents periods when the faithful are pushed, often the brink… by God… to repent and further develop and demonstrate the depths of their faith, hope, and love. 

And so here we are in our 40 – forty days of Lent (not counting the Sundays, which are breaks in our fast as we celebrate the Lord’s feast at His table) – in which we’re invited to learn more about our mettle, our deepest hungers and temptations, and our ultimate reliance on God.   Sisters and brothers, how will you embrace you “40” this year?

This brings us to consideration of our chosen Lenten disciplines….

I read a blog today that said, “The challenge of the season of Lent, of self-examination, and repentance, is the invitation to look deeply into yourself, your life, your choices – to see where cleansing and de-cluttering are needed – to see the places in your life where unnecessary things are taking up space, widening the gap between yourself and your neighbor and the God who loves you both.” (The Rev. Mary Cat Young: http://episcopalcommons.org/2013/02/13/graduating-from-self-denial-to-intentional-living/)

What about fasting?  I simply invite you to consider that this practice is not simply about self-disciple or seemingly arbitrary self-denial.  In fact, be wary of practices that tempt you into narcissistic obsession with yourself.  Self-obsession is not the aim of Lent – self-reflection for the benefit of our shared life in Christ is.  If you do choose to fast (to give up / deny yourself something that is part of your daily sustenance), be mindful that this ancient practice (usually referring to giving up bodily nourishment) is about leading your body, mind, and heart into a new state of awareness.  It’s about a sustained period of intentional self-denial, inducing chronic hunger or want, in order to become more aware of the root of your desires, our shared state of dependence and our primordial needs.  When you’re suffering from hunger, you’re close to awareness of brokenness and contrition. From this place of depravity and need, you can develop more compassionate cravings and begin to yearn for the promise of abundance in God’s kingdom anew.  Consider also that it would be more keeping with the spirit of Lent if, when you give something up, you also provided something to those in need (ref: almsgiving).

What about taking on a new practice?  In contrast to fasting, there’s a more contemporary practice of taking on a new practice during Lent rather than giving up something.  Again, be mindful that when you take on a new discipline you’re not doing it just for self-improvement (so I look or feel better about myself).  E.g., “I’ll spend more time at the gym each day.”  Hey, that’s a prudent practice to improve your health… perhaps so that you can better serve Christ’s church… but doing something new because it’s good for just you personally is not in keeping with the intentions of this season.  If you choose to take on a new daily practice, make it something that sustains your attention on growing in knowledge and love of God and each other… something that compels you to love your neighbor as Christ has loved you.

What did you take away from today’s reading from the prophet Isaiah (58:1-12)?  Hear some of it again as paraphrased by Eugene Peterson in The Message and consider what the Spirit is saying to you about Lenten discipline:

Why do we fast and you don’t look our way?  Why do we humble ourselves and you don’t even notice?’  Well, here’s why: The bottom line on your ‘fast days’ is profit. You drive your employees much too hard. You fast, but at the same time you bicker and fight. You fast, but you swing a mean fist. The kind of fasting you do won’t get your prayers off the ground. Do you think this is the kind of fast day I’m after: a day to show off humility? To put on a pious long face and parade around solemnly in black? Do you call that fasting, a fast day that I, God, would like?  This is the kind of fast day I’m after: to break the chains of injustice, get rid of exploitation in the workplace, free the oppressed, cancel debts. What I’m interested in seeing you do is: sharing your food with the hungry, inviting the homeless poor into your homes, putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad, being available to your own families.

What about wearing your ashes around town or otherwise drawing attention to your piety?

The words of our Lord are pretty clear in today’s Gospel lesson (Matt 6:1, 16-18), “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven…. And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”

In other words, whatever you do this Lent to discipline yourself (denying yourself or taking on a new practice), consider the discipline itself a private matter – not something to boast about or to use to get respect/admiration/sympathy from others.  And, during Lent, don’t go about trying to look particularly pious or observant – keep yourself clean and presentable as you would any other time of year.  At the same time that this Lenten journey is a very private matter, your personal Lenten labor should bear fruits that benefit others.

In today’s Epistle lesson (2 Cor 5:20-6:10), Paul says that as we work together with Christ we ought not accept the grace of God in vain but should realize that now - even amid afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, and hunger – is the acceptable time of salvation… time to share the good news of Christ… time to share patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God.

As we consider that our bodies are fundamentally ashes and that our chronological time here is limited, let us remember that we’re called to live together as much more than ashes – mere dust in the wind.

May God guide you this Lenten season to examine more deeply your needs and the needs of others… and equip you with the resolve and strength to truly meet them.  As you give up things, or make new commitments, may you do so to both unburden/unclutter our common life as well as to build up our collective wellness.  May you take action to close the gap between yourself and God while paving new pathways for others to live in community with you in Christ’s name. (adapted from a prayer written by The Rev. Mary Cat Young: http://episcopalcommons.org/2013/02/13/graduating-from-self-denial-to-intentional-living/)

AMEN

by The Rev. Jay Sidebotham

Mission of metamorphosis between mountaintops

“God unknown and unsheltered by our poor constructs: open to us the moments when heaven overshadow time and robs us of empty words; in the moments of silence help us to listen to the Chosen One, who goes to die that we might live, Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.” [Shakespeare, Steven.  Prayers for an Inclusive Church (New York: Church Publishing, 2009) p 87.]

Mountaintops, metamorphosis, and mission.  What might the Spirit be saying to us through today’s lectionary readings?  I’m hearing that mountaintop experiences – transforming encounters with God – are powerful moments of significant change (if we’re open to it)… and, that we’re not meant to dwell on those mountaintops, but to come back down and get on with mission and ministry in the valleys.

Today is the last Sunday of the Epiphany season in the church calendar.  This has been a time in which we’re reconsidering all the ways in which the holy – the divine will - has been revealed to us in the incarnate manifestation of God’s love in Jesus Christ.  We were launched into this season (of about 40 days) by an important pinnacle moment [actually, a special combination of two pinnacles] – a mountaintop experience, if you will – in our church year.  God’s light and love comes to us as a child born to ordinary folk… and among the first to interpret this divine sign are wise foreigners of a different religious background.  This was a particularly high moment in our life together, Christmas+Epiphany… matched in elevation only by our celebration of the Resurrection (Easter) that will happen in a little over 40 days from now.  Between these exceptional peaks in our church year, we travel through important valleys, and then up to mountaintop again, and then back into another valley.  Such is our life.

We’ve now arrived at another pinnacle moment in our year together – commemoration of the mountaintop transfiguration with Jesus before the eyes of three of his disciples.  This extraordinary revelation of Jesus’ divine identity is the exclamation point to the season of Epiphany.  And, like other mountaintop moments, it’s temporal and is followed by being brought back down into a valley – this time, the valley of the shadow of death.  We’ll initiate our period of travel through this valley on Wednesday when we recognize the season of Lent with the imposition of ashes as a sign of our mortality.

Before we launch into the valley period this week, let’s see what today’s mountaintop experience is showing us.

We first heard a reading from Exodus (Exodus 34:29-35), reminding us of his mountaintop experiences.  Moses encountered God in the mountains several times – each time returning to his people with instructions about how to live more according to divine will.  Before what we heard today, Moses had been traveling with his people through a valley (desert) for about 40 years – from a moment of liberation toward a moment of restoration.  Moses came down from this mountain with instructions from God, only to find his people, having grown impatient waiting for him, worshipping an idol they had created.  In anger toward his people who had broken laws, Moses smashed the first set of tablets he had brought down from the mountain.  God tells Moses to chisel new tablet to replace the ones broken and invites Moses back up the mountain again where God will restore the instructions again.  After 40 days and nights up on the mountain, fasting before God (Exodus 34:28), Moses returns to his people in the valley with the new tablets (describing the expectation of a covenant life) and a radiant face, still glowing from his encounter with God.  He kept his face veiled when talking to the people, removing the veil only during his continued conversations with God (in the tent of meeting).

Paul, in today’s reading from 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2, suggests that Moses used this veil to hide the fading of God’s glory in through the old ways and that the veil continues to separate people from God’s presence when we dwell in the ‘old covenant.’ [note: Paul, a Pharisee himself, if very determined to differentiate his understanding of life in Christ from living under Jewish laws.]  Paul boldly claims that through Jesus the veil has been lifted so that we can see more clearly the glory of God reflected in the person of Christ – an image that, as we behold it, has the power to transform us from one degree of glory to another. God’s gift of grace through Jesus Christ affords us clarity and transparency in seeing and related to each other.  Essentially, Paul is saying that the new covenant established through Jesus Christ is living instruction from the Spirit written on our hearts with love, no longer a set of words written on stone tablets. 

In describing the holy potential of our encounter with this new covenant, Paul uses the language of transformation – metamorphosis.  We’ll come back to this in a moment.

Back to the rhythm of mountaintops and valleys…. we heard a reading that recalls for us the Moses’ journeys between the mountaintop encounters with God and his time with this people in the valley.  We also heard the Gospel story of the transfiguration of Jesus from Luke’s perspective. 

Lodovico Carracci, 1594

In Luke’s telling, it was on the eighth day (eighth day – Luke’s way of signaling that this is a ‘new’ week, a new creation) that Jesus takes James, John, and Peter “to pray” up on the mountain.  Whenever Jesus prays, we know something significant is about to happen – and this is on a mountain, no less – so this outta be big… and it is.  The disciples, as they seem to be prone to do, doze off but are awakened to ‘see’ Jesus radiant (recalling the language used to describe Moses’ face reflecting the radiance of God – but this time, the source of the great light on the mountain is Jesus himself), clothed in dazzling white (symbolic of those entering the kingdom of heaven), and flanked by Moses (representing the law) and Elijah (representing the prophets and the coming of the day of the Lord, Malachi 4:4-5) with whom there is conversation foreshadowing Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension.  Hastily wanting to honor this moment, Peter, out of the tradition that he’s familiar with, suggests that tent tabernacles be erected, harkening back to the ‘tents of meeting’ erected in the desert in which Moses would speak to God.  But this transfiguring moment is not like others – there is to be no containing of God’s glory here, there are to be no more veils (it will be torn apart soon).  To clarify who’s who, so that they no one assumes that this scene is represents Moses and Elijah as peers with or elders of Jesus, God’s voice booms “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”  - making the point that in Jesus represents a new covenant as the fulfillment of God’s law and the promises told by the prophets… granted, even with this dramatic intervention, those disciples in His midst still didn’t get the full meaning of what was being revealed to them… and neither do many of us, if we’re honest.

Rather than dwell there in this mountaintop moment, as profound as it is, Jesus leads his disciples back to the valley and immediately gets to work – encountering “faithless and perverse” people, but nevertheless showing them mercy and healing one possessed by an unclean spirit.

Recall that in describing the holy potential of our encounter with God’s new covenant, Paul uses the language of transformation – from the Greek word μεταμορφόω (metamorphosis).  In descriptions of Jesus’ transfiguration, we also encounter metamorphosis.  In both cases, we’re talking about “beyond-form” or “to change form,” to re-form, to re-model, to fundamentally change shape or state; a paradigm shift.  If we come face-to-face with God’s love, we are invited to fundamentally change…. to change at our very core who we are and what we believe. 

I’m left wondering if this encounter was really about Jesus’ need to go up the mountain to connect with Moses and Elijah in order to be re-formed and prepared for the rest of his mission and ministry… or, if this story is more about initiating the metamorphosis that takes place among the disciples, preparing them to re-form the body of the church to carry on Christ’s interpersonal mission… a process that continues in their encounter with the risen Christ and then with the reception of his Holy Spirit at Pentecost… and process that continues in us today as we encounter Christ through our baptism and in love with our neighbors… an experience of the metamorphosis on the altar every Sunday when we behold the elements on our altar becoming for us the body and blood of our Lord and Savior… and the subsequent renewal of our own form as we inwardly digest this spiritual food.

And, as we remember mountaintop moments with Jesus Christ, we’re reminded of how we too are being invited to change our ways, our forms, and to prepare for mission and ministry between pinnacle experiences.  To see ourselves anew, not as independent beings, but as members of Christ’s body called into service, functioning today as his hands and heart in our word.

Mountaintops.  Metamorphosis.  Mission.  As important as mountaintop / pinnacle experiences are (they do mark seminal moments in our ongoing transformation), it’s our work in the valleys between them that really defines us a Christian body and demonstrates God’s love incarnate in action, compelling our mission.  Christ calls us to leave the luminance of our mountaintop experiences, return to the valleys of life, and tend to the needs of our brothers and sisters, particular those in the lowest of places.  Christ calls each of us to re-form and re-model our notions of scarcity and abundance in order to better serve the entire family of God. 

Note: For over fifteen years, the Episcopal Church* has observed World Mission Sunday on this Sunday before Lent begins (*note: Roman Catholics observe World Mission Sunday in October).  The stated purpose of this observance is to “hold up and celebrate our shared commitment and call to mission.”  We’re asked to celebrate and pray for the work and witness of missionaries we have serving in countries around the world… and to remain mindful that the Episcopal Church's official name is The Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society of the Episcopal Church.  All members of the Episcopal Church are also members of the Society and, therefore, we are all missionaries.

“As we celebrate this World Mission Sunday and think of the Transfiguration of Jesus, let our hearts be full of wonder and our souls be full of praise. As our worship today lifts us to the height of heaven, why don’t we come down with faces unveiled and through our actions demonstrate that we have been with the Lord?” (The Rev. Lawrence Womack, Associate Rector at St. Martin’s Episcopal Church, in Charlotte, NC)

As we come down from pinnacle moments, prepare us, Lord, to do your work in the valleys all around us.  As we enter our Lenten season this week, compel us toward new awareness of who we really are and new ministry and mission in your name.

AMEN.

Disrupting expectations and expanding boundaries with charitable love

Good morning, good people of St. Andrew’s, Emporia.  It’s the fourth Sunday of Epiphany.  We have one more Sunday of Epiphany after today and then we’re heading into Lent.  As it turns out, I’m with you today, next Sunday, and I believe Ash Wednesday as well.  I look forward to traveling together with you through the end of Epiphany and into Lent.

In this morning’s Epistle and Gospel lessons, we’ve heard about the prophet Jeremiah initially resisting God’s call because he believed himself too young, perhaps inexperienced and ill-equipped for prophecy to his people. We’re also still with Jesus in his hometown synagogue in Nazareth and the congregation’s reaction to his message.  And, we’re continuing to hear from Paul’s writing to the faithful in Corinth about mature perspectives on spiritual gifts and the priority of a certain type of love.

Among the wisdom being conveyed in this morning’s lessons, two strands stand out as relevant to where we find ourselves at St. Andrew’s. One thing I’m hearing is that God’s call interrupts our status quo thinking and challenges our boundaries and expectations.  The other thing I’m hearing is that greatest gift we’re entrusted with is a certain type of love, from and through which all else in our common life and ministry should be rooted.

God’s call interrupts our status quo thinking and challenges our boundaries and expectations…

Jeremiah 1:4-10:

• Jeremiah is living through a critical transition in the life of his kin, the last stronghold of the Jews resisting Babylonian rule over Judah. They resisted as long as they could, but were finally overtaken and their grand temple destroyed in 586 B.C.. Jeremiah fled to Egypt with some of the other Judean leaders. Perhaps some of them were beginning to believe that this dire state of affairs was their new reality and that they just needed to get used to it. 
• Jeremiah is being called by God, like Moses was, to speak to his people both about why they find themselves in this mess and about the promise of restoration if they get right with God. 
• What we hear this morning is a familiar pattern – God’s call of a seemingly unlikely character to leadership, that character’s initial resistance, followed by God’s promise to be with that person and to equip him with what is needed to fulfill the God-given task. 
• God calls Jeremiah as a prophet when there is a need for the people to renew their faith in the wake of their losses… a need to help the people renew their identity and purpose apart from all that was predictable in their previous way of life. 
• Initially, Jeremiah is resistant to God’s call – “I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.” 
• God assures Jeremiah that he (God) will put the necessary words in Jeremiah’s mouth, both to dismantle former ways of thinking and acting (pluck up, pull down, destroy, and overthrow) as well as to “build” and the “plant” new possibilities. 
• Living into God’s call at this critical time in the life of his people will find him both at odds with folk – being rather unpopular for critiquing how they’ve been doing things - as well as an agent of faith and hope assuring his kin that God has not abandoned them, despite the dire nature of the present circumstances.

How is this time in the life of the St. Andrew’s community critical?  Who might God be calling as prophets among us to help us understand where we are and remind us of where God intends for us to be?  Has God been calling you to speak up?  What’s stopping you? 

Jesus in his hometown synagogue in Nazareth (Luke 4:31-30)…

• The call to constructively disruptive prophecy is apparent in today’s Gospel lesson that follows last week’s Gospel lesson in which we heard Jesus read from the scroll (citing Isaiah 61:1-2) in his hometown synagogue, announcing the year of jubilee, telling the congregation in effect that he has come to restore sight, release captives, and cancel debt. 
• Initially, his kin seem to welcome what they’re hearing from him – “all spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that come from his mouth” (Luke 4:22) 
• Having heard of his miraculous healings, perhaps they believed that he was back to offer them preferential treatment – certainly there were those among them who were in need 
• Jesus, however, interrupts expected order by anticipating their request to do for them what he has been doing elsewhere and he, instead, challenges their expectations of his mission by citing the stories of two previous prophets, Elijah and Elisha, who delivered God’s grace beyond what their people thought was appropriate, tending to the needs of foreigners even before their own kin 
• Elijah heals the son of a foreign, non-Jewish widow in Zarephath in 1 Kings 17:7-24 
• Elisha heals a Syrian general, also a foreigner, of leprosy in 2 Kings 5:1-19 
• The intimation that this emerging young leader intends to meet the needs of others before tending to the needs in his hometown in infuriating to his congregation – how dare he come in here with messianic promise and then suggest that our needs are not as pressing as the needs of those outside the boundaries of our congregation?! 
• Jesus is challenging them to change their perspective on the breadth of God’s desire for liberation and restoration and their attitude about tending to the needs of others, particularly those who are foreign or outside their norm. 
• Remember back to the Jesus’s birth and early childhood – the initial witnesses and evangelists where dirty migrant workers from the field and foreign wise men from another religious tradition 
• His congregation is so enraged with his apparent lack of concern for their wellbeing in their time of need that they drive him out and intend to hurl him off a cliff. 
• Alas, Jesus passes through the angry mob and continues his mission elsewhere.

When strong leaders emerge from our parish family or come to us in this time of transition, what if they’re more focused on mission outside the boundaries of what we have considered our parish?  What if they seem to ignore some of the needs of this congregation in favor of focusing on and ministering to people out there?  What might Christ be asking us to see about mission and ministry… what we claim to do in His name?

And now, what about this certain type of love, from and through which all else in our common life and ministry should be rooted?

Paul writing to believers in Corinth (1 Cor 13:1-13)…

• Though we’ve often heard this particular selection from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians read at weddings, with the hue of romantic bonds between partners, Paul is actually admonishing his listeners and is not calling them to romantic or erotic love. 
• You might recall, Paul is writing this corrective letter to a Christian community that has been inappropriately elevating some members to greater status/honor based on inappropriate reverence of certain spiritual gifts (he wants them to understand they are interdependent members of the same body, expressing different yet equal and complementary gifts from the same Spirit toward the same purpose) 
• Paul’s ‘hymn of love’ (as it’s sometimes referred to) is poignantly being offered to people who perhaps are not exhibiting the type of love Paul is calling them to 
• Perhaps some of you have heard verse 13 as “faith, hope, and charity… the greatest of these is charity” – the word translated a charity is the Greek word agape, one of three forms of love in the Greek language – the other two are eros (erotic love) and phileo (brotherly / fraternal love). 
• agape is self-giving love… more of a sacrificial action than a warm feeling… a love that seeks to honor and serve others even at personal costs (ref: Christ’s ultimate expression of agape love on the cross) 
• Paul is reminding his audience that it is this self-offering love that Christ exhibits toward us that should be the root of all our endeavors and expressions of our spiritual gifts. In other words, none of our talents are of any value of real use in God’s kingdom unless they are expressed out of a deep love for the wellbeing of others (more than love of ourselves). 
• He makes the vivid statement that as children we were focused on ourselves and our own dependency needs, but that as we’ve become adults, we are to develop a bigger view of the world and see more clearly our actual interdependency – how the wellbeing of others is just as vital.

A mentor of mine once said that as Christian leaders we must love our neighbors where they are more than we’re in love with our own ideas about who they ought to be.  So, in this time when we’re often looking for answers and solutions, and perhaps getting excited about what appears to be superior wisdom or special gifts manifesting in some cases (or depressed when we’re not seeing enough of them manifest in others), what might happen in our community if we each keep returning, at each opportunity, to more deeply loving and serving others first (before seeking to be served ourselves)?

Exile might be too extreme to describe the situation here at St. Andrew’s… but certainly most everyone will acknowledge that this congregation is going through a significant transition and that faith and hope are vital right now. 

Amid the changes that are taking place, and the fertile (albeit sometimes anxiety provoking) opportunities for new things to be considered, there will be God-inspired moments of prophecy that will disrupt our preconceptions and coping mechanisms. The Holy Spirit might surprise us by calling some of us to focus on ministry outside the boundaries of what we’ve previously considered the priorities of our parish.  We may be challenged to reconsider our identity and what it means to ‘be church’ moving forward together with new perspectives and priorities. 

Rather than get arrested by fear or seek to drive challenging voices off a cliff, what if we watched with Jesus for these disruptive moments and discerned together what God might be calling us to consider anew about our mission and ministry in Christ’s name in this place and this time?

Amid all that we do and discern in this time of transition - as often as each meeting and as intentional as each interaction with one another – recall Paul’s wise counsel about the self-offering nature of Christ’s love for us that we’re called to exhibit to others before anything else:

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (1 Cor 13:4-6)

-or- as Eugene Peterson paraphrases these verses in The Message… 

Love never gives up.Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut,
Doesn’t have a swelled head,
Doesn’t force itself on others,
Isn’t always “me first,”
Doesn’t fly off the handle,
Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn’t revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.

AMEN