Fools, Forsaking and Forgiven

Greetings, St. Bartholomew’s.  Thank you for inviting me back for Palm Sunday again.

Palm Sunday this year happens to fall on April 1^st – April Fool’s Day.  This is deliciously ironic in the sense that what we’re up is kinda foolish, no?  We’re re-enacting and remembering something outlandish that happened over two thousand years ago and supposing that it still has relevance to us today.

Too often, I fear, we half-heartedly process with palms (not quite sensing the celebration) and then proceed right into the powerful Passion narrative a bit numbed (not delving into despair of the story) – we’ve heard it all before and we’re just kinda going through the motions. 

As I said last year, after such powerful lectionary readings on this day, it’s hard to know what to say.  Witnessing our adulation of our Lord and king with palms as he rides into Jerusalem in one moment, and only shortly thereafter hearing ourselves deny, condemn, mock, and shout to crucify him in the next… and then to imagine the suffering Jesus endured and to hear him cry out with a last breath to God, “Why have you forsaken (abandoned) me?” – the turn of events… the turn of heart… it turns my stomach, to say the least.   

This Palm Sunday morning, rather than offer a traditional homily, let’s engage in some conversation about what we’ve just heard and experienced.  Let’s bring the stories to life for ourselves in a way that invites us into the journey of Holy Week. This Palm Sunday morning, let’s get into the emotions a bit more and connect them to our current relationship with Jesus and the way of the cross. 

This is an opportunity to engage our imagination and see what the Spirit shows us.

GUIDING QUESTIONS
(distinguish between the procession experience and the Passion narrative)

1. Imagine that you were present (for the procession and then the Passion) – where were you, what perspective do you have on what’s happening, what do you see and hear going on

2. What is happening to you as you witness/experience these events?

3. How is this affecting your relationship with God?

4. This morning, what might the Spirit be calling you re-consider and do differently this Holy Week as we prepare for Easter?

SEEDS FOR DISCUSSION:

a)    How do you compare/contrast the different processions into Jerusalem that day? Which procession are more often attracted to / compelled to join? (toward crown or toward cross? pride, winning, and control vs. humility, service/sacrifice, and surrender)

b) What has this Jesus from Nazareth been doing that has everyone all stirred up? (the common folk as well as the establishment leaders)

c) In Mark’s telling, Jesus cries out, quoting the first line of Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” – who has abandoned/forsaken whom?

Examples from them that still apply to us:

• We sleep rather than stay awake with Christ, choosing our needs rather than his.
• We are willing to betray our friends for the sake of short-term profit.
• We are quick to violence, even after Jesus has made it clear we are to ‘turn the other cheek’ and forgive.
• We are quick to condemn someone who speaks truth to power, for fear that we might be also seen as sympathetic to a counter cultural new vision of common good.
• When pressed by accusers in the popular crowd, we sometimes shy away from, or outright deny our true Christian identity and convictions.
• Sometimes we choose to kill ourselves, rather than humbly repentant and believe that new life if possible through forgiveness and grace.
• When caught up with the crowd, we’ll even choose known evils, things that we know are bad of us, rather than stick up for the innocent underdog, the marginalized, the outcast.
• While one of us might occasionally step forward to carry the load, how much more often to the rest of us stand on the sidelines quietly thanking God that we don’t have to carry the burdens of others… maybe even believing that their misery is their own fault.
• And, how quick we are sometimes to test God, boldly demanding that God demonstrate proof for our faith – losing faith because God doesn’t perform just as we want God to when we want God to, as if God is under our command.

In Mark’s telling, Jesus cries out, quoting the first line of Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”


Please turn to page 611 of your Book of Common Prayer and let’s read (antiphonally – alternating sides of the congregation by asterisks) the final third (verses 21-30) of the 22^nd Psalm that Jesus began to recite from the cross:

I will declare your Name to my brethren; * in the midst of the congregation I will praise you.

Praise the LORD, you that fear him; * stand in awe of him, O offspring of Israel; all you of Jacob's line, give glory.

For he does not despise nor abhor the poor in their poverty; neither does he hide his face from them; * but when they cry to him he hears them.

My praise is of him in the great assembly; * I will perform my vows in the presence of those who worship him.

The poor shall eat and be satisfied, and those who seek the LORD shall praise him: * "May your heart live for ever!"

All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD, * and all the families of the nations bow before him.

For kingship belongs to the LORD; * he rules over the nations.

To him alone all who sleep in the earth bow down in worship; * all who go down to the dust fall before him.

My soul shall live for him; my descendants shall serve him; * they shall be known as the LORD'S for ever.

They shall come and make known to a people yet unborn * the saving deeds that he has done.

Despite our forsaking God, God has not forsaken us.  Despite our foolish abandon into our own self-concerns and ambitions, Christ does not abandon us.

Though we will remember this Holy Week how our Lord, even after doing so much good, was betrayed by one of his closest friends and made to suffer public humiliation and a painful death, we know that on the horizon in a week, there is redemption, hope, and new life through our risen Lord.  

AMEN. 

A Tale of [cleansing] Three Temples

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, * O LORD, my strength and my redeemer” (Psalm 19:14)

Welcome to the third Sunday of Lent.  Whereas last Sunday, our focus was on what it means to be a follower of Jesus, today our focus turns to what it means to be the church of Jesus – that is, expectations of how we are to be a community of faith in Christ’s name.

The reading from Exodus highlights how we are to be a people of God.  We have ten commandments given to Moses to give to the chosen people to guide them in their relationship with God and with each other. Essentially, as is re-stated in Deuteronomy 6:5, the people of God are to put honoring God first on our priority list, followed closely by what is re-stated in Leviticus 19:18, that we are to honor each other – respecting our ancestral wisdom about how to behave, avoiding covetous obsessions and harmful actions.

You might recall Jesus repeating this Jewish wisdom when asked which commandments are the greatest.  Jesus repeats the summaries from Deuteronomy and Leviticus saying, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and will all your soul and with all your mind.  This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matt 22:35-40)

So, there we have it, right?  That’s how we’re to be the church.  Just follow the ten commandments.  That sounds good… but in action it’s even more challenging.  Being the church of Christ – embodying Christ’s mission ourselves – requires us to apply this wisdom to our complex cotemporary living in a way that can be, frankly, foolish.

The church as a ship of fools was an idea even back in Paul’s day.  In the excerpt we heard this morning from his letter to the Corinthians, Paul is saying that to really follow the way of Christ will appear foolish to others, particularly those who focus on rational wisdom of the day.  Paul reminds them that our resurrected ‘church’ is founded more on the humble ‘way of the cross’ than on a prestigious convention of a crown… a path focused on the redemption of all, especially the weak and lowly, through a revolutionary processes of surrender, suffering, and sacrifice even unto death.

To be a faithful church of Christ, we not only focus on God first with everything we are and have, we are not only rigorous in our avoidance of harm toward others, but we are to be boldly foolish in letting go of things that might otherwise provide prestige and power but actually separate us from each other, focusing not on winning by getting things right, but on redeeming each other through loving so deeply, that it sometimes appears just plain wrong.

And now we stand in the Temple court with Jesus in the Gospel excerpt we’ve heard this morning (John 2:13-22), looking around us at this ‘house of God’ and asking, what wisdom is being followed here? 

This scene is rendered in all the Gospels.  In Mark, Matthew, and Luke, this moment is toward the end of Jesus’s earthly ministry and becomes the final provocation that mobilizes the establishment against him.  Interestingly, in John’s telling, this scene occurs at the beginning of Jesus’s adult ministry and serves as the second of many signs that people grapple with as they try to understand who Jesus is --  this event is disturbing to them, but not the ‘final straw’ in John’s telling as it is in the other Gospels.  But I digress…

On one level, what we see going on in the Temple court is perfectly reasonable.  Pilgrims from all over have come here to worship God, who is thought to reside here in the holiest of holy places, and out of respect, they must offer certain types of prescribed sacrifices.  In keeping with ancient customs, the animals they offer must be without blemish.  Because it’s hard keep your animal unblemished while traveling long-distances through harsh terrain, the temple authorities offer the convenience of simply buying unblemished animals here on-sight – no need to cart your own over long distances.  Of course, any money brought into the temple must not contain graven images, like that of the emperor who was presented as a god.  No problem, here in the temple court, we have exchange booths (like we see in international airports today) where you can trade your local coins for the temple-approved coins. 

Oh, by the way, now that you’re here with your money and sense of devotion, can I interest you in this religious trinket or this crafty momento of your time here in Jerusalem? 

What?  You’re not one of the chosen people, but you’ve come here anyway to seeking God?  No worries, although you can’t be admitted to the most revered places in this house, you can still enjoy your time here in this outer court – despite all the noise and mess, we encourage you can find a quiet corner in which to pray.

Yes, on one level, everything going on here is reasonable, given the conventions of the day.  Ok, so some of the merchants might be more focused on turning a profit than on turning people on to what it means to follow God.  Ok, so some of the exchange rates might be a bit unfair – we’re not meaning to exploit, we’re just trying to look out for ourselves while giving you some of what you need to find your own way here.  Look, we’ve been doing it this way for a long time and it seems to work for the leaders of our temple as well as for the Roman Empire.

As one commentator observed, “more than likely, all involved had simply settled into comfortable behaviors that enabled them to meet institutional goals, turning a blind eye to the unsavory possibilities of corruption inherent in changing money.” (Paul S. Shupe, Pastor, Lake Edge United Church of Christ, Madison, WI)

And another commentator has written, the temple/church can gradually be “…taken over by buyers and sellers, consumers and marketers who know how to fill the pews and meet the capital campaign goals…. The ways of the world invade the church gradually, subtly, never intentionally, always in service of the church and its mission.  Soon the church is full of cattle and sheep and turtledoves and money changers….” (W. Hulitt Gloer, Preaching Professor, Truett Seminary at Baylor, Waco, TX)

And here we stand with Jesus, in God’s house, the temple, the ‘church’, a place which should be focused on amplifying the application of the greatest commandments and a place where we all people are welcome and can find peace and well as inspiration. 

It wasn’t traditional Jewish wisdom and piety that now raised Jesus’s blood pressure – it was the commercial conveniences, personal profits, and rule-based distractions that had been allowed, even encouraged, in the name of God. 

Jesus snaps.  “Making a whip of cords [NOTE: only John mentions this whip – vivid image], he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. He told those who were selling the doves, "Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father's house a marketplace!"” (John 2:15-16).

Does this thrust of righteous rage from our Lord make us a bit un-easy?  It should.

Who and what would Jesus target with his whip of cords if he came into our temples today?

As another pastor wrote, this morning’s Gospel passage “pushes us to imagine Jesus entering our own sanctuaries, overturning our own cherished rationalizations and driving us out in the name of God… it is important for us to tolerate and explore through prayer, preparation, and preaching [this Lent] the queasy anxiety of seeing Jesus with the whip of cords in his hands and hearing him with the righteous judgments of God on his lips – knowing that he speaks for us, yes, and with us, but also to us and even against us.” (Paul S. Shupe, Pastor, Lake Edge United Church of Christ, Madison, WI)

Consider our churches.  How have we aligned any our gathering places more with societal status and privilege rather than sacrifice and service? What traditions and expectations have evolved over time to serve seemingly good purposes that, perhaps with Christ’s eye, are actually getting in the way of people encountering God and each other more deeply and authentically here?  Are we radically welcoming everyone, particularly the newcomer, so that they feel drawn closer to intimacy with God, not awkward or out of place because they don’t know all the rules? What might Jesus have us overturn in order to make this place more hospitable for the pilgrim, more focused on the greatest commandments?

Consider ourselves as temples of Holy Spirit (“know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit dwells in you” 1 Cor 3:16).  What corruptions would Jesus have us drive out of here (pointing to the heart and head) in order to make more room for compassion that might drive us to greater sacrificial love for each other?

AMEN.

Way of the Cross: Stations 5, 6, and 7

Homily notes: The Rev. Michael S. Bell for Lenten chapel service on 7 March 2012 at Bishop Seabury Academy (Lawrence, KS) 

What’s the difference “absolute historical accuracy” and “truth-telling” when it comes to stories that inspire and move you?  Though we don’t have much historical evidence of the factual accuracy of the stories represented in these images, they nonetheless tell us about truth.   These stories have endured for hundreds of years in our traditional telling of the Way of the Cross.  And, people from all over the world, when visiting Jerusalem today, will walk the Way of the Cross in remembrance of these images.  Why do you imagine we tell these stories over and over?  What truth do you think they represent?  

·         There’s no reference in the Bible about Jesus falling a second time, much less a first or a third time.  We easily imagine, however, given all that he had been through and the weight of the timber used for the cross, that Jesus may have fallen several times as he made his way along the road.

·         There’s no reference in the Bible about a woman coming up to wipe the bloody and sweaty face of Jesus as he carried his cross to his own execution.   We can easily imagine, however, given all the good news that he had spread and all the people that he had helped and healed, that someone had enough compassion for Jesus to risk approaching him amid the Roman soldiers to at the very least wipe some of the blood and salty/stingy sweat from his face as he passed by.  Tradition calls names this woman Veronica, which is derived from Latin words meaning true icon/image.

·         And, we know very little about Simon of Cyrene except that he was a father and that ‘of Cyrene’ means that he was from the northern territory of Africa, i.e., perhaps a foreigner/visitor in Jerusalem who perhaps didn’t have the same the skin color, ethnic identity, religious etc. as Jesus – Simon might have been Jewish, he might not have been; he might have just visiting his children, he might have been a migrant worker, who knows…  We don’t know precisely what compelled Simon to lift the cross, but we can imagine that to Jesus, this man was an unfamiliar face from the crowd who showed up just in time to lift some of the burden from Jesus even if only briefly.

·         Jesus had a family – we’re told he had sisters and brothers.  Yet, in this walk with Jesus, we don’t hear about them coming to help.  Jesus had close friends and followers (the apostles and disciples).  Yet, we don’t see any of them coming to his aid on this painful journey.  In fact, out of fear of being hurt themselves, they’ve run away from this scene.

·         Jesus knows what it’s like to feel abandoned, to not have the strength to go on, and the humiliation of falling vulnerable in front of others.  And, Jesus knows what it’s like to receive kindness from strangers.

·         The people we remember so vividly in today’s stations are ‘strangers’ who stepped out of the crowd to walk with someone struggling, shouldering the cross for him for bit and offering a moment of relief and dignity.

What do you do when you know others might need your help? 

If you had fallen, were out of strength, and unable to move on, how’d you feel if help came, not from one of your family or friends, but from a compassionate stranger?

Have you ever felt like there was no way to go on by yourself – the burden was too heavy / you were too tired?  Did someone come along and lift you up?  Have you thanked them?

Have you ever seen someone carrying something heavy (literally or figuratively) or being picked-on?  Were you bold enough to stand in and help/defend them, or at least compassionate enough to offer them comfort?

Who do you know that might feel alone right now? 
What help can you offer, even if only for a little while, so they’ll know they’re not alone?

PRAYER: Jesus, as we walk the Way of the Cross, through the humiliation and pain of your Passion, in these images of your own vulnerability and humanity, with an eye toward your ultimate victory, help us find strength and courage to face our own struggles.  Help us to see more clearly how to express love for our neighbors, particularly when they suffer, and even when it’s risky to do so; and how to accept kindness from strangers, even when we’re weary.   AMEN.

Comfort & Challenge: living up to and into God's love requires sacrifice

Welcome to the second Sunday of Lent.  How’s Lenten journey so far? 

We’re deep into it today.  Our lessons, though containing some ultimately comforting hope, are also presenting us with the promise of challenges in our walk with Christ.

Comfort and challenge – a good combo on which to cogitate this Lent in our walk with Christ.

Comfort: God has promised to be faithful to us, even when times get tough. We are known by name and beloved by our creator.  We inherit this promise not “through the law (by following all the rules most perfectly) but through the righteousness of [our] faith”, as our ancestors Abraham and Sarah did (Rom 4:13-14, 16).  God sent is love to us in the very tangible form of Christ Jesus and has gifted us his Holy Spirit – comforting, indeed.

Challenge: While there is great freedom in being beloved of God and inheriting his Spirit, living up to this love and into this inheritance requires sacrifice on our part.  It’s risky and costly to graciously seek and consistently share culture-challenging charitable love with others as Christ has done with us.  Furthermore, God’s Word made flesh, Jesus, has shown us and told us that when we set our mind more on our will than on divine will (more on our sense of how things should be rather than God’s desire), we inhibit the holy mission, risk forfeiting our life, and head toward shame.

Let’s look a bit closer at some of our lessons for today and then consider what the Spirit might be leading us to re-consider during our Lenten journey this year.

Abraham & Sarah

As Paul is suggesting in the excerpt from his letter to the Romans that we’ve heard this morning (Rom 4:13-25), faith and trust are most fundamental to our right relationship with God. Well before Moses encountered God on the mountaintop and delivered ‘law’ to us (traditions meant to support and encourage our faithful living), we have the story of God’s outreach to Abraham and Sarah, the actions they faithfully take in respond to God’s call, and God’s promise to redeem us all through their legacy. 

Before Abraham and Sarah, God sought to turn us from self-centered ways and return to divine righteousness as a family.  God attempted a re-boot through the great flood and the call of Noah to restore better order.  Alas, as faithful as he was initially, Noah fell off the wagon.

Then along comes Abraham.  We’re not really clear why Abraham, a decedent of Noah, is chosen, but perhaps there’s a lesson in that.  God seems to be less interested in Abraham’s past story and more concerned about the strength of his faith and the trust that both he and his wife have in God’s intentions… and what that will mean for the future generations that they shall parent.

God calls Abraham and Sarah to leave behind the comforts of the life they have known – to uproot their identity in the current context;  to sacrifice their senses of safety, security, protection, and prosperity - and to venture forth into something new – a new place that will be blessed and greater than where they’ve been.  Initially, despite their faithful sacrifices and trusting follow, they endure many hardships (e.g., famine and war).  Furthermore, try as they might to fulfill what God has said they shall do (fruitfully procreate), they can’t beget a child of their own (Sarah is barren). 

Abraham and Sarah weren’t perfect (as Paul’s rendering might suggest) and this couple had their moments of doubt (e.g., Abraham initially falls on his face laughing at the notion that they’ll be parents in the old age) and sometimes acted according to their own will first (e.g., perhaps weary of waiting on God to act, they take it upon themselves to create a child by Abraham impregnating Sarah’s slave, Hagar)… but more often than not they were faithful and trusting in God’s comforting promise, despite their circumstantial challenges.  Because of this, God appears again to refresh the promise to bring forth a multitude of nations from this faithful and trusting couple, blessing them with their own child and new names to seal the deal.  

"Abraham Sarah and Yitzhak" by Yorah Raanan

To the end, they remain faithful and trusting in God, even though their circumstances seem more challenging than comforting most of the time. E.g., Abraham is even shows God that he’s willing to sacrifice their beloved son Isaac if it be God’s will.

Today, three of our great religious traditions (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) consider themselves ‘Abrahamic’, considering themselves ancestors of this faithful couple through whom God’s comforting promise was fulfilled.

In the story and legacy of Abraham and Sarah we can find deep comfort in the enduring nature of God’s commitment to us that is based on faith and trust.  And, we can also see/hear that God hadn’t promised that we’ll never endure hardship and suffering.  What we’re to trust in is that God remains committed to our well-being every step of the way and will redeem even the seemingly most barren of circumstances if we will just remain faithful to seeking God’s will more than our own. 

The story of Abraham and Sarah is compelling… and, I’m even more drawn to the character of Peter and how his story embodies these elements of promise, comfort and challenge.

Peter

Don’t cha just love Simon Peter?  Here’s a regular ole fisherman who gets pulled into this whole story by his brother and then eventually ends up on a mountaintop witnessing the Transfiguration of our Lord and becoming one of the primary leaders of the early church. 

Peter is both the disciple of little faith (when he calls out to Jesus for help while trying to walk on water, Matt 14:28-31) and then later he’s the sturdy rock (petros) upon which Jesus says the church will be established (Matt 16:13-20). 

Peter is first to proclaim Jesus as the Messiah (Mark 8:29 - just prior to what we’re hearing this morning) as well as later the first to publicly deny (three times, no less!) knowing Jesus after the going gets tough (when Jesus is taken into custody before his trail and execution).

This morning we’re hearing what happened right after Peter’s proclamation of Jesus as the Messiah.  Following Peter’s bold proclamation that Jesus is the messiah, Jesus reveals more about the suffering that he must endure in this role.  In another bold move, albeit misguided, Peter then pulls Jesus aside and “rebukes” him (that’s right – rebukes, like what Jesus has been doing to demons). Faithful Peter is also fearful Peter when confronted with the implications of what following a suffering servant messiah will mean.   

We might imagine Peter saying something like “hey J.C., that’s not the type of messiah we’ve been hoping for… suffering as the Son of Man isn’t what we want… there’s another way to do this…”  Or, as one commentator imagined Peter saying, “Suffering, rejection, and death are not on the agenda.  Prestige, power, and dominion are the agenda.  It’s David’s throne we’re after, ruling the nations with power and might.  We signed on for a crown, not a cross!” (W. Hulitt Gloer, PhD - Professor of Preaching, Truett Seminary at Baylor University)

Peter’s instinct is to avoid this way if possible and find another way to enjoy all the benefits of the kingdom without having to endure the Passion.  I can relate to that… can’t you?  And while I might not dare to boldly rebuke Jesus as Peter did, I’m sometimes pretty good at passive aggressively avoiding Christ.  What about you?

Rather than comforting Peter and alleviate his fears and concerns, Jesus challenges this trusted disciple and promises all listeners that there will be more challenges ahead in their walk with this messiah.  

Get Thee Behind Me, Satan.  James Tissot,  1886-96 (Brooklyn Museum)

First, Jesus rebukes Peter publicly , “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things by on human things.”  Jesus wants it made very clear that this mission will be inhibited if mortal pride or fear overshadows divine will and eternal hope.

Then, turning to the others who have now gathered around them, Jesus goes on to challenge everyone by saying that order to inherit all that the messiah promises and become heirs to God’s kingdom, they too must surrender, sacrifice, and suffer for the sake of the ultimate good news. 

Here are two other renderings of what Jesus says to them (to us):

(from The Message) Calling the crowd to join his disciples, he said, "Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You're not in the driver's seat; I am. Don't run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I'll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? What could you ever trade your soul for? If any of you are embarrassed over me and the way I'm leading you when you get around your fickle and unfocused friends, know that you'll be an even greater embarrassment to the Son of Man when he arrives in all the splendor of God, his Father, with an army of the holy angels."

(from a sermon by The Rev. Rickey Del Edwards, March 19, 2000) "If anyone would come after me, let them sacrifice themselves and take up their choices and follow me. For whoever would hide their choices will be lost, and who ever would witness to their choices for my sake and the sake of others will live. For what does it gain to hide behind idols of prosperity, health, leisure and comfort and loose one’s life. For whoever is ashamed of me and my words, I will be ashamed of them when I come with the holy angels."

After the great hopes and joys that people have built up following this miracle-working messiah, now they’re hearing him say that he will be rejected, will suffer, and will be killed… and that they, too, must carry the cross to be his true follower. 

As Brother David Vryhof of the Society of Saint John the Evangelist says, “It’s no wonder that Jesus’ family [and followers] was concerned about him. By his actions he was showing that principles which most people value above everything else – security, safety, and a good reputation in the eyes of others – meant nothing to him. How countercultural is that?”

Concluding thoughts / questions:

This Lenten season reminds us that if we’re honest with ourselves, we find ourselves living somewhere between the comforting glory of the resurrection promise of eternal life and the challenging realities of what we must surrender and endure in order to follow God’s incarnate Word in this life.

We spend so much of our contemporary lives trying to avoid and dull our own discomfort that we too often neglect the visceral memory that God’s passionate love for us through Christ involved sacrifice and suffering to relieve the deeper pains of this world.

Good news…

No matter how off-track we can find ourselves, we are already forgiven and beloved (that is comforting).  And, this penitent season of Lent offers 40 days of grace-filled opportunity to live up to the love and into the expectations of God’s Word.

We’re invited in these forty days of Lent to re-consider both the comforting promises of our covenant with God, as well as the challenging propositions of what it means to truly follow Christ – what it will require of us body, mind, and heart.

Before yearning to celebrate the comforts of Easter, we are invited for these forty days to embrace the challenges of self-sacrifice and what needs to be put to death on the cross.

How are you challenging yourself during this Lent? 

What are we each willing to sacrifice for the promise of new life together?

What do you need to surrender in order to walk the way of the cross with Christ? 

AMEN.

Mission between the mountaintops

May I speak in the name of the transfiguring Christ, Light from Light, who challenges us to change and grow through co-missioning.

This final Sunday before Lent begins is known as Transfiguration Sunday… and, in the Episcopal Church, also as World Mission Sunday. 

Over the last six Sundays of Epiphany, we’ve been remembering the manifestation of God’s love incarnate among us – recalling our Lord’s baptism and some of his initial actions in his adult ministry.  Today, as we prepare for our transition into the season of Lent (which begins this Wednesday with the imposition of ashes) our Gospel reading (Mark 9:2-9) takes us to the finals days of Jesus’s initial earthly ministry – an important pinnacle experience before his final days in Jerusalem.  After a couple of very full weeks of traveling, teaching, preaching, feeding, and healing Jesus now invites Peter, James, and John up to a mountaintop experience before leading them back down into mission work in the valleys below.

Mountaintops

In the story of Christ, five pinnacle moment are his birth (incarnation), baptism, transfiguration, resurrection, and his final ascension.  Today we’re hearing about one of these pinnacle moments, literally a mountaintop experience.

Our lectionary readings last year on this occasion were from Exodus (24:12-18), in which we were told of Moses’s mountain top experience with the fiery radiance of God’s presence as he received the law and commandments.  For Moses, this pinnacle experience is a pivotal moment in his understanding of what must be done in order to help his people be fully liberated. His mission now would become to record, convey and interpret divine commands and laws that he believed, if adhered to properly with faithful obedience, would keep his people in healthier covenant with God and out of trouble.  His return from this mountaintop ushers in an age of law.

One of today’s lectionary readings (2 Kings 2:1-12) tells us about Elisha’s dogged determination to follow his master, the great prophet Elijah, in mission and the eventual passing of the prophetic torch from teacher to student.  Elisha aspires to inherit double the share of the prophetic and missionary spirit (a la entitlement of firstborn – Deut 21:17). It’s only when Elijah is finally swooped up by a chariot of fire and horses of fire into the heavens (a pinnacle moment) that his younger disciple inherits the power of spirit and his own mission of prophecy and healing begins. And, Jewish tradition says that when the great prophet Elijah returns (another pinnacle moment), his coming will foreshadow the coming of the awaited Messiah to restore and redeem the people of God in a new age.

Jesus often appeals to the laws of Moses and the wisdom of the prophets in his preaching (E.g., Matthew 5:17, 7:12, 22:40). The appearance of both Moses and Elijah with Jesus on the mountaintop in today’s reading is symbolic of a culmination of the intent of the Law and the teaching of the prophets into a new reign.  And, this pinnacle moment of symbolic revelation is placed importantly, in Mark’s telling, midway between our Lord’s baptism and his resurrection – in the middle of his earthly ministry at a point when the disciples are waking up to the meaning and implications of Christ with them. The sequence hymn (Hymn 129) we just sang sums it up, “…Moses and Elijah speaking. All the prophets and the Law shout through them their joyful greeting.  Alleluia!”  In this mountaintop transfiguration story, Jewish ears would have perceived the symbolism of the Law coming together with the Prophets and remembered that this foreshadows the coming of the awaited Messiah and the redemption of God’s people.  According to Malachi (4:4-5): “Remember the teaching of my servant Moses…. Lo, I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes.” 

How does this mountaintop experience affect the disciples?  Peter's initial instinct is to want to dwell here with these three prophetic elders in this glorious moment and construct booths/tabernacles for them, perhaps imagining that this is the ‘Day of the Lord’ during the Feast of Booths foretold in Zechariah (14:16-21). 

But dwelling in this pinnacle moment - remaining on the mountaintop - is not the point of this experience.  God’s presence overcomes them, Moses and Elijah vanish into the cloud, and they hear God’s voice repeating what was said at Jesus’ baptism (Mark 1:11) – “this is my Son, the Beloved…” with the added emphasis this time, “listen to him!”  We might hear: don’t get too distracted by what has just happened or dwell on this pinnacle event, focus on what Jesus is showing you, there’s more work to do down below.  Then they are lead back down to mission in the valleys below, trying to make sense of what has just happened, with Jesus nudging them toward new understandings of the call they are living into with him.

The Greek verb form that has been translated as ‘transfiguration’ is a word that you’re probably familiar with in its Latin form: metamorphosis.  It means ‘beyond-form’ or to change form, to re-form, to re-model, to fundamentally change shape or state; a paradigm shift.  In this pinnacle mountaintop moment, the disciples undergo an apostolic initiation of fundamental changes in their form and function as living members of the new body of Christ.

We could see this mountaintop experience as less about Jesus needing to go up the mountain to re-connect with Moses and Elijah in order his figure to be transformed and prepared for the rest of his mission and ministry… and more about initiating the changes – the metamorphosis – that must take place among the disciples to prepare them to re-form as a body (that we now call the church) to carry on Christ’s interpersonal mission.

And, as we remember pinnacle moments with Jesus Christ, we’re reminded of how we’re being transformed and prepared for mission and ministry between these mountaintop experiences.  E.g., encounter with the Spirit at our Holy Baptism or the sublime pinnacle moment every Sunday - the metamorphosis of the elements on the altar and the transformation in our own lives as we inwardly digest this spiritual food.

Mission in the valley between mountaintops:

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 and demonstrates God’s love incarnate in action, compelling our mission.   

Interestingly, the pinnacle moments are spaced apart on our liturgical memory by periods of approximately 40 days – between the remembrance of the baptism of our Lord and his transfiguration, and between the transfiguration and the passion of Holy Week culminating in our Lord’s resurrection. Time periods marked by ‘40’ are important times of transition, testing, and transformation.

For instance:

40 days that Jesus, after baptism, led by the Spirit, was tempted in the desert (Mark 1:12-13)

40 days and nights of the great flood (Gen 7:4)

40 days Noah waits before exiting the Ark (Gen 8:3-8)

40 days that David was taunted by Goliath (1 Sam 17:16)

And, tying in two of the characters with us today on the mountaintop with Jesus…

40 days, twice, of Moses fasting on Mt. Sinai while re-affirming covenant with God (Exod 24:18,28)

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)

40 days that Elijah fasted in the wilderness when all seemed against him (1 Kings 19:8)

And, after the next pinnacle moment (the resurrection), it will be 40 days that the resurrected Jesus helped prepare his followers from the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost (Acts 1:3)

What do all of these periods of 40 have in common?  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 further develop and demonstrate the depths of their faith, hope, and love.  We might even say that they are extended periods during which we are to be transfigured (during which we should experience metamorphosis).

As we come down off the mountaintop today with Jesus, Peter, James, and John, we’ll be preparing to enter a special period 40 – our journey through the 40 days of Lent; it’s beginning marked by the imposition of ashes on our foreheads this coming Wednesday. 

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.  Christ confronts each of us with opportunities for metamorphosis through interpersonal encounters which stoke the godly light within each other.

Mission

For the last 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 25 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.

Our Presiding Bishop calls us this year to focus our Lenten disciplines of prayer, fasting, alms-giving and study on the Millennium Development Goals (MDG’s) as a way of cultivating our conviction as a church in mission throughout the entire world, particular toward the needs of our neighbors most in need.  If you’re not familiar with the eight MDG’s, you’re encouraged to visit the United Nations website to learn about them and discern what part you can play in this world-wide mission to relieve poverty, prevent and treat disease, and promote education through new global partnerships (http://www.un.org/millenniumgoals/).

More locally, as we follow Jesus down from today’s mountaintop experience, let us enter the season of Lent this week re-considering and re-forming ourselves as disciples, apostles, ministers, evangelists in Christ’s name.  Consider anew the opportunities right here in Manhattan to serve the interests of those in greatest need – perhaps gather in groups of three to discern what you’d like to study and address in our community for the 40 day journey of Lent.

Paul reminds us in today’s reading from his second letter to believers in Corinth (2 Cor 4:3-6): “…we do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus' sake. For it is the God who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”

As we come down from pinnacle moments, prepare us, Lord, to do your work in the valleys all around us.  As we enter Lenten season, compel us toward new mission in your name -  take our lips and speak through them; take our minds and think through them; take our hearts and set them on fire with love for you and our neighbor.

AMEN.

Jesus as God’s emancipation proclamation

I enjoy Sundays when events in chronological history resonate well with themes in our Revised Common Lectionary.  Today is one of those Sundays.  

On the surface of our assigned readings, we have two stories about miraculous healings from diseases of the skin – the liberation from affliction and isolation leading to the restoration within society of those once considered unclean outcasts.  

On, or about, this day (February 12) in history, we can remember disciples who fought the good fight of faith in Christ’s name to overcome racist stigmatizations based on the color of our skin, leading to the redeeming of human dignity.

And, as we relate ancient stories about the healings of leprosy in the Middle East to more contemporary memories of abolitionists in our country’s history, hear what the Sprit is saying to us about our call to continue in God’s will and Christ’s call for liberation from all forms of slavery – things that bind and separate us - literally, intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually.

Jesus is God’s emancipation proclamation.

First, let’s consider some of what we hearing in our two readings about healing from leprosy (2 Kings 5:1-14 and Mark 1:40-45). 

The first story is a tale healing, humility, and hope emerging from a system of military domination, social entitlement, and nationalist arrogance.  Prompted initially by the small voice of a slave, a commanding dominator is lead through a process of submission and surrender to the God of those he considered ‘less than’ in order to be healed of his skin disease. If you continue reading the story beyond the verses we’ve heard this morning, you’ll hear how transformed this great man paying attention to the faith of a slave as he risks appearing naïve and gullible in following what seems to be simple and silly instructions about cleansing the waters of the Jordan – he is healed.

In the second story, we hear about courage, passion, and prophetic pronouncements of restoration emerging from a system of social isolation, stigmatization, and religious traditions that segregated people based on conditions of their skin.  Prompted by the begging of a leprous man who had nothing left to lose, our Lord is moved with deep passion to cross social, political, and religious boundaries to not only make physical contact with the man considered unclean, but to redeem and restore him to standing in the community… our Lord knowing that this action of liberation would jeopardize his own freedom and standing in the eyes of the ignorant.

Interestingly, although this story of Jesus healing the leper is found in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, it’s only in Mark’s telling that we hear the passionate emotion motivating Jesus’s action of healing and social justice.  We heard that Jesus was “moved with pity” and then sent the man away with “stern warning”; and, indeed, that’s how several translations render some of the Greek words.  However, other translations of the same Greek words render more passionate, intense emotions motiving Jesus’s actions, suggesting that Jesus was moved with anger (the same word/phrase is used by those who scold the woman for wasting valuable oil when anointing Jesus) about this situation and even snorts with indignation as he sends the healed man back to the temple priests, perhaps to shove in their faces proof that God’s kingdom has come and people are to be united in health, not separated in sickness.

Jesus has cast out demons in worshipful gatherings, and lifted illness from someone in their home, but this act of public healing is about to send a strong message to the religious establishment – his mission and movement is about more than just miraculous healings, it’s about transforming society and the status of everyone in it. By reaching across so many boundaries in his action, and through the testimony that the healed man is about to spread throughout the land, a message is being sent - times, they are a changin’… the Kingdom of God is at hand and shall overcome and overturn the expected social order.  The children of God will no longer be oppressed and held captive by the powers of evil.

This brings us to some of our own recent and timely history about abolishment of slavery and the emancipation of people held captive based on their skin.

• On the heels of the 151^st anniversary of “Bleeding Kansas” being recognized as a ‘free’ state (January 29, 1861) and approaching the anniversary of “Brown vs. Board of Education of Topeka” (May 17, 1954) which declared separate is not equal
• February is African American History month (which we’ve been observing for nearly a century now in our country) 
• This week we remember several births of leaders influential who shined lights of freedom and dignity on the darkness and leprosy of slavery: President Abraham Lincoln (Feb 12, 1809), The Rev. Absalom Jones (Feb 13, 1746), and Frederick Douglas (c. Feb 14, 1818)
• Also, it was also on this day nearly 150 years ago (February 12, 1865), only a few years after he had signed the Emancipation Proclamation freeing slaves, President Lincoln, on his 57^th birthday, invited a Presbyterian pastor, The Rev. Dr. Henry Garnet, a former slave himself, to be the first African American to address the U.S. House of Representatives – Pastor Garnet delivered a sermon on the deliverance of our country from [my words: the sickness of] slavery (http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/garnet-preaches-to-house-on-slavery-and-civil-war)

·         Focusing for a moment on Absalom Jones, America’s first black priest…schooled by Quakers and originally a lay leader in his church, Fr. Jones’s entire ministry was about liberation and restoration of those who had been marginalized based on the color of their skin.  Not content to simply minister separately to blacks, he fought for bringing them as a group into the Episcopal Church, established benevolence societies to help African Americans with insurance and housing, petitioned Congress to free slaves 65 years before the Emancipation Proclamation, and dared touch the untouchables during a yellow-fever outbreak in Philadelphia, organizing nursing and burials teams amid people and communities that everyone wanted to avoid.  The Episcopal Church remembers The Rev. Absalom Jones tomorrow in our cycle of Feasts (http://www.episcopalarchives.org/Afro-Anglican_history/exhibit/leadership/jones.php)

Whether during the passionate abolitionist movement in the 19th Century, the Spirit-lead struggles for civil rights in the 20th Century, or the heated debates we continue to have in this century about dignity, humanity, and relief for other groups of people, both foreign and domestic, may we be humble before God in our recognition that there are still many brothers and sisters in need of both liberation from stigmatization and healing – this is our work, our race to run, in Christ’s name.

What is the Spirit saying to God’s people today?  Perhaps we’re being asked to revisit some questions: Who do we consider unclean today?  Why?  Do we truly believe that Christ compels us to participate in breaking the chains between sins of prejudice, presumptions about who is unclean or unworthy, and the ills of social stigmatization? What would Jesus have us to about this, even in the face of risk to our own social standing? 

If the Spirit hasn’t spoken to you through the homily, then listen for what the Spirit is saying in the hymns today.  They’re all from the same era as President Lincoln, Frederick Douglas, Pastor Garnet, Bishop Jones, and the Kansas being declared a free state (early to mid 1800’s).  During the offertory, we’ll be reminded in the first verse of hymn 552 to “fight the good fight with all they might, Christ is they strength and Christ thy right….”  And, in the second verse of our closing hymn 371, as we prepare to go back into the world out there, together we’ll be singing, “Thou didst come to bring on they redeeming wing healing and sight, health to the sick in mind, sight to the inly [inwardly] blind, now to all humankind, let there be light.”

Let there be light.

“A leper came to Jesus begging him, and kneeling he said to him, ‘If you choose, you can make me clean.’ Moved with [passionate emotion], Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, ‘I do choose. Be made clean!’” 

AMEN.

Mission of weaving with all the threads, every single one of them

There’s so much in today’s readings about our call as Christians.  In the unfolding tapestry of God’s creation, we’re being reminded that every single thread is known and that we’re being called to participate in the continued repairing and weaving with these threads, leaving not one of them missing, without being overly concerned about un-crossable boundaries of any particular grouping in the weave (although respectful of the patterns) nor remaining too fixated in one place – we are to keep moving, incorporating all the threads, helping grow the new fabric.

Yes, the once great and proud Judeans are in exile at the hands of the Babylonians.  Yes, they are weary and downtrodden.  Yes, they seem to have given up hope in God’s love for them.

Isaiah calls them to lift their eyes up and see!  The supreme creator has not forgotten them, not a single one of them – God knows their names and is a source of power and strength.

Yes, we live in stressful times and are subjected to all sorts of principalities and pressures.  Yes, we and those are around us can grow weary, burdened by all sorts of things (doubt, shame, guilt, fear, anxiety) that can arrest and hold us in place. 

Amid the harsh realities of our circumstances, is there a God?  If so, could that all powerful creator of everything actually know and care about little ole me?

Yes!  Lift your eyes up and see.  Even in the darkness of night there are millions of points of light if we keep our eyes focused up there.  Isaiah reminds us that God has created all of the stars, numbering them, calling them each by name, and not missing a single one.  Created in God’s own image, are not each of us known and beloved by God.  Every single one of us, not one of us is missing from God’s handiwork.

In the words of Isaiah, God “gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless…. those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.”

Fellow weavers, we are to mount up with wings like those of eagles.  With the strength of our Lord, we are to walk and run without weariness or faint.  We are to keep moving.

With Jesus as our exemplar and Paul as another faithful model, we are to go – to fearlessly travel  - to mission – to where people are, even where, particularly where, we might not want them to be.

In this first chapter of Mark that we’ve been reading since the beginning of this Epiphany season, we have Jesus exemplifying what God’s love is like manifested in the world.  It is: drawn toward repentance (a new mind about things); endures and overcomes temptation; calls/draws/compels people to follow; drives out evil; heals many; prays; and keeps moving - continually searching for and touching the presumed untouchable (as we shall hear next week).

Jesus launches into his adult ministry calling people to join him in weaving a new fabric of a new kingdom.  He demonstrates the power of God to shine light into dark places, driving out corrupting shadows and removing obstacles and ailments that have kept people separated and lonely.  He seeks out and finds people in need, no matter where they are.

He starts by teaching and healing in the places of worship (the synagogues); then takes his ministry into homes (healing and eating in intimate settings), and then on the roads and into the communities (to people on all shores – on all sides of the tracks).  As word of this healing ministry grows, more and more people seek this light.  Jesus is not content to fix the light on a lampstand and keep it shining in only once place – he says clearly that he has come to spread widely the good news of God’s kingdom so that all might receive the message.  Christ compels us to do the same – an essential part of our discipleship is to be missioners.

In today’s Gospel reading (Mark 1:29-39), we hear about our Lord entering a home, healing Simon’s mother-in-law, and continuing to heal others well into the evening – the whole town having gathered around this home seeking his light.  The next morning, rising before the sun, Jesus goes to a dark, deserted place to pray – he seems to do this a lot, to take time at critical junctures in his ministry to commune and discern with God through prayer.  His disciples hunt him down, presumably a little frustrated that he seems to be neglecting his duties.  “Everyone is searching for you” they say, pointing him back toward where they think he ought to be, where they want him to stay in order to meet with needs of the town’s folk who continue to gather.  Yet Jesus compels them to keep moving – “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” 

It time, it will become clear that he is commissioning people to carry on the work of his cause – equipping them with authority in this name and power through the Holy Spirit to continue in his restorative teaching and redemptive healing.  But it takes them awhile to live into this with faith and confidence.  We’re not so different.  It’s not so hard to see what we often want to keep Jesus domesticated here in our little house serving our needs.  Jesus, just stay here in our church, in our part of town where we want you.  Oh, how often we resist or ignore our call to follow Christ back out into new neighborhoods and places, sharing his message with people who are not quite where we’d like them to be.

This season of Epiphany we’ve also been hearing from one of best examples of an early missioner – Paul – as he writes correctively to an early community of believers in Corinth who are resisting and ignoring the fullness of their call.  In Paul’s letters to the Corinthians, he is lovingly reminded them to what it means to be a part of God’s mission through Christ.  Each and every single one of us is important and has a role to play in the new body – each thread is important to the new fabric.  We all have gifts that we are to use toward the service to which Jesus has commissioned us.  Through our baptism and unity in the Spirit we are both radically liberated and free (so many things that might have bound and restricted us have no hold any longer) and we are to be prudent and responsible in our actions, mindful of and compassionate towards those who are just coming into the fold and are still learning how to weave this new fabric of God’s kingdom.  In all cases, we need to keep moving.  Paul uses imagery of running a race and, in today’s reading for instance, the idea of winning – claiming people back as the prized creations they are in God’s unified family.  “Christ’s love compels us…” he says (2 Cor 5:14).

In today’s excerpt from his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes that he has “become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some.”  We might here ‘all things to all people’ as a negative, particularly in this political season when we’re reminded so readily how often people attempt to change their tunes and message depending on the audience, trying to be all things to all voters.  However, that’s not what Paul is intending.  Paul’s message will remain the same, but he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get the good news across to people, no matter what situation they’re in.  Whether he needs to look and sound a little more like this group or that group… whether he needs to conform more strictly to one set of rules in one instance for some people, or bend them a bit in another instance with different people, Paul is fearless willing and able to be flexible, adaptable, and humble in meeting people ‘where they are’ in order to get his consistent point across about the gracious love of God and Christ’s desire to weave us all back into a unified and loving kingdom together.

Hear how the author of the The Message paraphrases Paul’s words (1 Cor 9: 19-23): “Even though I am free of the demands and expectations of everyone, I have voluntarily become a servant to any and all in order to reach a wide range of people: religious, nonreligious, meticulous moralists, loose-living immoralists, the defeated, the demoralized—whoever. I didn't take on their way of life. I kept my bearings in Christ—but I entered their world and tried to experience things from their point of view. I've become just about every sort of servant there is in my attempts to lead those I meet into a God-saved life. I did all this because of the Message. I didn't just want to talk about it; I wanted to be in on it!”

To re-cap… Isaiah reminds our ancestors and us that the amazingly ineffable creator of everything knows each created being by name and intends power to the weary and strength to the powerless.  The Gospel of Mark tells us that Jesus Christ (God’s love manifest among us) comes to our places of worship, into our homes, and continues on out into the communities around us – constantly on the move, teaching and healing.  Paul is telling the early church in Corinth, and us today, that we are free to be creative and adaptable in relating to our all of our neighbors, no matter where they are (literally or figuratively), in order to form bonds with them so that we can share the good news of Christ’s redemptive power and God’s unifying plan.

ANECDOTE : I’m both a priest (administering our sacramental traditions in our church) and a missioner (a baptized Christian on the move, aiming to meet people where they are, outside these walls).  In my own journey with Jesus: I’ve been baptized and cultivated in a place of worship; nurtured as well as challenged to teach, learn, and heal in the intimacy of a home group; intentionally prepared to go forth and call new disciples – meeting people where they are physically, in coffee houses and bars as well as on-campuses and in churches… relating to people where they are figuratively, simple or advanced in their theology, not looking/sounding/believing like I do, perhaps questioning or skeptical about God, perhaps angry with the church or otherwise in the shadows of some darkness. 

DISCUSSION: So what?  What does this mean to us as a church in mission? To each of us in here?  Where are we on this journey?  How and where are you helping weave a new fabric? What threads are you called to find and include?  Have we been seduced into staying in our comfort zone?  Are we focused on the most important work?  Are we on the move with Christ Jesus? 

Following the examples of Jesus and Paul, we’re to be people (and a church) in mission.  Let’s not be tempted or lulled into repeating only the same patterns with the same community for perpetuity – God’s vision of the kingdom quilt is so bigger and much more colorful and varied than that.  And, as our Lord did after a full day of ministry, we to step-back now-n-then to reflect and discern in prayer… and then keep going to new places, finding and incorporating new threads, sharing the good news with ALL our neighbors.

We are called to mission, not just where we want people to be, but where people actually are…. to see beyond our own preferred patterns and recognize that every single thread in known by God.  No matter what its texture or color, it has a place in the divine fabric and we are compelling by Christ to weave with them all.

In God’s creation, there are no stray threads. Christ compels us to seek, find, heal and redeem all threads, together weaving them into a beautiful new creation in God’s loving image.

AMEN