Tuesday Sermon: Grace, Judgment and Karma

          Hinduism and Buddhism both use the word "karma" when it comes to how one's life is balanced.  Now, keep in mind, one's "life" may span many reincarnations, so what happens in this particular incarnation may be effected by past incarnations.  It gets a bit confusing.

          Today's Gospel lesson is about the concept of grace and judgment – both granted by God.  Grace is defined as unmerited divine assistance given to humans for their regeneration or sanctification.  We can't earn it or ask for it – we can just be grateful for it, and learn to see it in our daily lives.  Judgment, on the other hand, gets a bit more complex. 

          On the one hand, we're told, "Do not judge, so that you may not be judged."  In today's Gospel, a man granted grace – unmerited favor – and having his debts forgiven, then exercised judgment against those who owed him money, they being in the exact same position he had just been in.  In doing so, he did not learn or gain any wisdom from having been granted grace, and thus earned judgment himself.

          Many these days would say that karma balanced the scales within the man's own lifespan.  The Golden Rule, versions of which you will find in almost every religion, applies here – that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us.  Now interestingly, the Golden Rule was initially codified in Hammurabi's Code as a method of establishing equality through retribution:  "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."  About 400 years before Christ arrived, Plato felt there was no point in ever seeking vengeance on someone:  "One should never do wrong in return, nor mistreat any man, no matter how one has been mistreated by him." 

          Christ, on the other hand, emphasized the law of love that had been codified within Jewish law – that we love our neighbors as ourselves.  Now, Christ expanded the Jewish law in the definition of "neighbor" or "brother", but it originated in Leviticus, Chapter 19:  "You must not hate your brother in your heart. You must surely reprove your fellow citizen so that you do not incur sin on account of him. You must not take vengeance or bear a grudge against the children of your people, but you must love your neighbor as yourself. I am the Lord."  As an aside, it is interesting to note that "I am the Lord" is a phrase used 160 times in the Old Testament – 49 of which are in Leviticus, but where they are placed is a fascinating study.

          So back to the Gospel today.  We're provided examples of grace and examples of consequences for one's choices.  On the one hand, having your debt forgiven is grace – you did nothing to warrant that.  On the other hand, you incurred the debt, and therefore, the consequence is that you must repay the debt.  We would hope that when given grace – forgiveness - we would share that with those who have incurred debts – trespasses.  This particular parable is entirely about the Great Commandment and the Lord's Prayer.  Given how often Christ taught these lessons in different ways, it is imperative that we pay attention to both.

Sermon: Overcoming Inertia

          Inertia is the resistance, of any physical object, to any change in its velocity. This includes changes to the object's speed, or direction of motion.  So you've probably heard that an object at rest will stay at rest without the action of an outside force.  This also includes the tendency of objects to keep moving in a straight line at a constant speed, when no forces are upon them.

          So why are you getting a science lesson in church this morning, despite knowing that your priest's sister is brilliant?  Because Christ told a parable of a fig tree that Luke was the only one to recount among the Gospels.

          In history, as I've mentioned before, the fig tree is a metaphor for the spiritual condition of Israel, and more specifically, the Jewish people.  The thing is, when Christ came and made a new covenant, the fig tree also became a metaphor for all mankind.  And this particular parable about a fig tree in its last year of life is designed to bring a sense of urgency, a need for a change in inertia.  The gardener in this instance, is the catalyst for change.

          Here, we have two things to think about.  First, we need to figure out how to imitate that gardener.  And second, we need to tend to our own garden.

          I had thought to list those who had died in terror attacks just in 2019, but just in the month of March, there have been 132 attacks across the world.  In just the last week, there were 35 attacks in 17 countries with 304 dead and 175 wounded.  That's one week of just terrorist attacks.  The figures on violence and crime against one another are so commonplace that they rarely make the news, but go into a database to be produced once a year and people can develop crime statistics so that we can determine where we can afford to live and find the lowest crime rate.  We have become numb to the pain, death and misery around us.  And like the fig tree, we might say a little prayer that God watch over the survivors and tend to those on their way to Him, and we go on about our day.  At some point, God is going to say, enough!  Chop it down.  And right now, today, Christ is saying, fine, you tend to that tree for a year, but if the inertia remains the same, it's out of time.

          Now, the first part of the Gospel today is that on the one hand, we're being told that all human beings are sinners who will perish unless they repent. On the other hand, accidents and tragedies are not punishments for sin.  They are, however, warnings that we're running out of time. 

          In this season of Lent, we do tend to focus on repentance, but what does that mean?  Go to confession, get absolution and go on your merry way?  Not so much.  Christ was always very clear when He spoke to those who had sinned.  "Go and sin no more" was the general instruction from Him.  So, not only do we need to confess – those things that we've done and those that we've left undone – but we need to make a change, to go and sin no more.  Without that change, there is no repentance. 

          So let's look at the first part – how do we imitate the gardener, become our own catalyst for change?  We have all the inspiration available to us, but what does it take to actually make something change? 

          I read a really cool story this week about Sadie, the Prayer Dog.  Every student who enters Perkins School of Theology takes a year-long Spiritual Formation Class. These are groups of 6 to 10 students who meet every Thursday afternoon for 9 months and study the disciplines of Christian prayer and then practice them all week. Each group has a faculty member who volunteers to work with them.

          Several years ago there was a student named David. David was a seminary student in his late 20s working as a social worker and attending Perkins part-time. Over Christmas break each member of the class chose a book of the Bible and pledged to spend 15 minutes a day reading through it out loud and then praying about its connection to their lives. They were to report back to one another when the spring semester began in January.

          David chose the Gospel of John. His wife, a banker, went out of town for 2 weeks to Austin to visit family and to work with some clients, leaving David home with Sadie, the couple's 2-year-old English beagle. David decided this was a good time to start his prayer routine. So after work, he'd come home, eat dinner, feed and walk Sadie, do paperwork, and watch the news. Then at 10:30 p.m., he'd click off the TV and move to the loveseat where there was better light for reading. He would open the Bible to the Gospel of John and read aloud the passage for that day and then pray quietly from 10:30 to 11:00 every night. Sadie decided that if there was some spiritual growth going on, she was not going to be left out. And she got into the habit of curling up on the other end of the loveseat during the nightly proceedings.

          When David's wife came home after her trip, he was very glad to have her back. But the routine was less rigid with another person at home. One night David forgot and didn't turn off the TV at 10:30. Sadie came and nudged his legs, pulled on his trouser leg—like Lassie used to do to Timmy's dad when Timmy was trapped in the abandoned mine again. Sadie pulled on his pants as if to say, "You're on the wrong couch. Come over here. Turn off the TV. It's time to pray!"

          Another night, David was exhausted and decided to go to bed before 10:30. Except that it's hard to go to sleep when there's an irate beagle pacing up and down beside your bed and pulling at your covers.

          There are many different kinds of dogs, bred for different functions. There are sheep dogs bred to herd sheep. There are guard dogs bred to guard premises. There are seeing-eye dogs trained to lead people through life. But I didn't know, until I heard about Sadie, that there was such a thing as a prayer dog. This brief parable about the importance of bearing fruit serves as our prayer dog.

          We often start off Lent with the best of intentions, cutting out some favored thing, substituting time with God in some fashion, hopefully improving our spiritual life in the meantime.  But we generally don't count on an accountability partner like Sadie, physically dragging us into the habit that we caused her to develop. 

          We do, however, have the voice of the Holy Spirit.  We just often decide not to listen, and with that decision, we allow more and more "friction" to interfere, until we are again at rest, experiencing our own inertia. 

          The thing is, until we correct the state of our own garden, we really can't become gardeners for other fig trees.  We have every tool available to us – God provides us guidance; Christ is always willing to listen to your heart – not to mention providing appropriate parables; the Holy Spirit will always be there to cheer you on, chew you out and hold you accountable.  We've also got other Christians around us, also trying to clean up their own garden, and might be hopeful for an accountability partner. 

          We don't know when we will hit the last year, when we run out of time, but we do know that if we don't start, today, the inertia keeps us still, or moving along the same path that leads nowhere.  We can't help feed the fig tree until we're able to produce our own fruit.

          Let us pray:  Jesus said resolutely, “I am the vine. You are the branches. Apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). We could live with that more easily if He had said, “Apart from me you can do some things, but connected to me you can do more things.” It is humbling each day to ask for daily bread. It is humbling to have to pray each day for wisdom, guidance, grace, mercy, and peace. We do know that we can't pray up for a week and then coast.  But each day, I humbly acknowledge:  Father, I am a sinner in need of mercy. I am a created being, and you are the Creator. I am utterly dependent on your grace today for every breath I take, every beat of my heart, and every material need. Help me to overcome my own inertia that I may become the gardener others need.  In Jesus' name, we pray.  Amen.

Tuesday Sermon: Feast of St. Joseph

         I have to admit that Joseph is one of my absolute favorite Biblical people.  And that's because he is the epitome of my Dad.  You see, Dad was one who walked his talk, who believed strongly in the law, but more strongly in God and the spirit of the law, than in its letter.  He was a man who often made choices according to his vocation as a father, rather than his occupation in the military, like turning down a promotion so I could have my last two years in one high school.  So I had a phenomenal example of the kind of man Joseph was, and since I adored my father, Joseph became my favorite.

          It's rather interesting to note that the Bible devotes very few verses to the man who raised Jesus.  One canonical gospel ignores him entirely.  And while people obviously focus on Christ's heavenly father, Joseph actually has some rather important roles in his life.  With free will, this man had many choices that could have derailed the Christian story as we know it, but God chose well in Joseph.  The most important things we know about him have nothing to do with words, and everything to do with actions.

          He was a man who obeyed God and was devoted to his wife.  We know of at least two dreams that Joseph was given from the Biblical account.  Keep in mind that psychology today has researched and categorized the types of dreams one may have to a great degree.  In Joseph's time, however, God communicated with His people directly through dreams.  It was the method by which His message was provided to prophets and kings, and sometimes to the common man.  So when Joseph received a dream, with the angel passing along God's message, Joseph knew that as a righteous man, he must follow the directions of God.  His submission to God was no less than Mary's, when she told Gabriel that she was God's servant.  Joseph did not put Mary aside nor report her for infidelity, but rather kept her as his wife and took Jesus as his own child.

          Joseph was a man whose devotion to his family meant more than his business.  We interpret the word carpenter these days as a man who worked with wood, but in Greek, the word can mean anything from carpenter to architect, working with wood, stone, designing buildings, etc.  According to Matthew, Joseph's family was fairly large, with at least four other sons and an unknown number of daughters.  We assume that his business was able to keep his family provided with food and shelter.  Again, after a dream from God, he left the career he had established and took his family to Egypt, where they would be foreigners, immigrants – not speaking the language, not having a home – in order to protect his young son from the infanticide initiated by Herod.

          Joseph's devotion to God and his faith was obvious from the fact that they visited the temple in Jerusalem – not often, but enough that two of the trips there made it into the Bible – when Jesus was presented at the Temple after Mary's confinement, and again when Jesus was 12.  And it is after that point that we don't hear of Joseph again.  Many scholars believe that it would have been shortly thereafter that Joseph died, but in John 6, when Jesus was in Capernaum, the people said, "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know?"  Joseph is referred to here in the present tense, not past.  So he may have lived to at least see the start of his son's ministry.  We do assume that he had died by the time Christ was crucified, as Jesus left the care of his mother to his beloved disciple. 

          We have no words spoken by Joseph throughout the entirety of the Bible.  What we have are the actions of a man who walked his talk, whose faith in God guided his life, and whose devotion to his family was exemplary.  May we honor his life by following that example.

Sermon: When the moment comes...

          Today's gospel lesson is packed full with symbolism, warnings, prophecy and a little bit of sarcasm.  First, we hear that some Pharisees come to warn Jesus that Herod wants to kill him.  Our minds go to the concept that – didn't the Pharisees want to kill Jesus?  Why would they warn him? 

          I'm reminded that each of us have choices in our lives.  There were those Pharisees who at least nominally believed in Christ, but because of having families or positions that they really couldn't leave, they did what they could and were quiet in their support.  Nicodemus and later Paul both came from the Pharisees.  So, maybe these Pharisees were hedging their bets, just in case Jesus was truly the Messiah, while not publicly changing their position. 

          There's a play I've discussed in the past called "When the Moment Comes", which discusses a group of women accused of apostasy, and they have a choice – when the moment of choice comes, do they denounce their faith in order to live, save their children and hopefully flee the country?  Or do they hold fast to their faith, knowing that they are going to die?  We know that this choice was often offered to martyrs in the early centuries of Christianity.  This particular play, however, was written in the 1980s about a group of Baha'i men and women, 20 of whom were eventually hung in 1983 – one of whom was 17, accused of teaching Bahai'i children to read and write.  The play was written by one of those who chose to escape with her life, and she, her husband and children escaped over the mountains to eventually seek asylum in England.  Her works documented the lives of those she shared a prison with.

          So perhaps these Pharisees hadn't yet reached their "moment", but were at least helping in the only way they could see at the time.  Now Christ compares Herod to a fox, but makes it clear that He believes He has nothing to fear from Herod.  He basically says that he's busy the few days, but he'll be heading to Jerusalem after that, since prophets aren't killed outside of Jerusalem.  The problem with our reading of the text is that we are attributing the modern meanings of "fox" to cunning, sly, sneaky.  In Jewish teachings, a fox is an unclean animal in the Israelite holiness codes.  And to make it further clear, the Greek word for "fox" that Luke uses here is the feminine form.  So, why insult Herod Antipas – here's where we need a history lesson.

          Though Herod often tried to appear the pious Jewish leader, he had more than a few problems maintaining the loyalty of his Jewish subjects. His first problem was his very authority. He had been put in power by Caesar Augustus, the Roman Emperor, in 4 BCE.  And then in 17 CE, to honor his Roman overlords, he built a grand new capital city named Tiberius, after the current emperor, only to discover that it was built on top of an old Jewish cemetery. No pious Jew ever entered it, and it was inhabited almost exclusively by Greeks and Romans.

          Then he also had serious women problems. He divorced his first wife, which had been a political union, as she was the daughter of an Arab ruler, in order to marry Herodias. Herodias had been the wife of his half-brother, also called Herod just to make things more confusing, both sons of Herod the Great.  It was not unheard of in those days to marry the widow of one's brother, but Herod II still lived, and Herodias had divorced him somehow – historians aren't clear on that point.  We get into soap opera territory here, because she was also the daughter of another half-brother, Aristobulus.  Marriage to one's niece was also permitted, but marriage to a woman who was both one's sister-in-law and one's niece was pushing some real boundaries, and for those who remember your Bible stories, this was where John the Baptist got into trouble, for opposing that marriage.  Add to that, that Herod Antipas allowed his stepdaughter (and also niece) to dance in public – an absolute no-no in this society.  And finally, this particular Herod was in charge of Galilee and Perea, so Christ was not yet in Jerusalem, and had no fear of Herod Antipas doing anything to him. 

          There was an interesting story in the news this week that had to do with a fox that got into a henhouse in France.  Now, they call it a henhouse, because that's where the hens were housed, but there were 3,000 of them.  The fox didn't have a chance, and was pecked to death.  But I would figure that when it was discovered that the fox had entered, the mothers had gathered their chicks under their wings.  Why that story came up this week is uncertain, but leads us to the next statement Jesus made, "How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!"  In this instance, Christ compares himself to a hen, where hens will protect their chicks under their wings from predators.  Here, we're talking about the predators of Rome and the puppet ruler Herod Antipas, where Christ is offering eternal life, and the Pharisees have only chosen to warn him, but not to fully believe in him. 

          So, here it is – when the moment comes:  do you follow the vows taken at your baptism or confirmation, or the renewals that we generally take every year?  Or do you do the bare minimum?  Offer lip service.  Give a warning, but don't really get into it.  "See, your house is left to you."  The choice is yours.

          The consequence, however, can be more than you want to pay:  "And I tell you, you will not see me until you say, 'Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.'"  Until you commit, even realizing that God is patient, you haven't made your choice.  Can you honestly, fully and truthfully say, "Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord", and then be prepared to live that choice, fully, completely?  Because eventually, time will be up, and the choice is made prior to that time.  No hedging your bets, no playing it safe – but truly going all in.  When the moment comes, what will your choice be?

Tuesday Sermon: Praying

          There's an interesting dichotomy between the Old Testament lesson from Isaiah and the New Testament lesson from Matthew today.[1]  It's one that actually pervades the two testaments, but is rarely so clear as these two readings.  In the Old Testament, the distance, awe-someness and sheer unknowability of God is emphasized.  And in the New Testament, everything we are taught to know and understand about God, the Father, is what we know through His Son, Jesus, the Christ.

          "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."  This statement comes directly after the instructions from Isaiah to "seek the Lord", because even when we don't understand, His thoughts do.  The distance between God and His creation is still emphasized, but the desire for closer communion with God seems to stem from God Himself.  His prophet is instructed to tell us to seek Him.  Mankind, however, continues to both keep the distance – as one would hold the concept of a peasant to a king, with obeisance and worship – and at the same time, through that distance and lack of personal connection, makes choices that disregard God's will and love for His creation.

          We contrast that with the instructions from Christ, who has a much closer relationship – both with God, and with His disciples.  The provision of what we have made into "The Lord's Prayer" was basically an example, to say, this isn't a grand, public demonstration by those who fill their words with empty rhetoric.  This is talking with your dad, in the quiet of your home.  His wisdom, His infinite knowledge already know what you want and need, but do him the respect of putting it into words.  And He gives us an example: 

Hey Dad,

We pray your will be acknowledged and accepted everywhere,

That your divine right to rule will be universally accepted and followed.

We know you have the right plan in heaven; may we follow it on Earth.

I pray that no one goes hungry today, but is provided food for body and spirit.

Help us to forgive ourselves as easily as we forgive others.

Save us from the trials to come, and deliver us that we don't fall to sin easily.

          Now there's that Old Testament part of us that recoils at the concept of being so personal and informal with God, calling Him "Dad", but that's the word Jesus used – Abba.  He didn't use "Av", meaning father, but rather the diminutive, Abba, meaning dad.  He actually began with "our father", which Paul points out in his letter to the Romans and elsewhere, adopts us into the family.  So when you pray in private, think about having that personal conversation with God, about speaking with your Father, who is, of course, older and wiser, and in ways unknowable.  But remember that Christ came to teach us, to help us to know the Father through Him, to understand that what we appreciate about Christ, we now can comprehend about God.  It's still a work in progress, but I think Dad knows that.  Try using the prayer as an example, not as words to repeat in a private conversation.

          Let us pray:  Dear God, we are held in awe by your immense wisdom and love.  We have been so blessed by you, by your Son, we don't have the words to thank you enough, but you know our overflowing hearts. We ask that you give us ears to hear, eyes to see, and a heart that abides by your will.  Help us to eat the bread you give us, and to share with those who don't yet know of you.  Lord, we ask this through Christ's name.  Amen.

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[1] Isaiah 55:6-11; Matthew 6:7-15

Lenten Madness: William Wilberforce v. Agatha Lin Zhao

Yesterday's Madness saw Martha (58%) winning in the voting against Mary (42%), with a record breaking number of votes at about 10,500!  You're doing great - keep it up!

Today's saints are two that you might not know a lot about, but you can read about them at the website set up.  William Wilberforce, an abolitionist and reformer in the 18th century, and Agatha Lin Zhao, a Chinese Christian educator and martyr.  Now, interestingly, Wilberforce is recognized as a "saint" (they don't get canonized) in many Anglican churches within the communion, while Zhao was declared a saint in 2000 by the Catholic Church as being among the Chinese martyrs.  Both are fascinating people, working hard for the benefit of their communities.

Interesting modern note on Wilberforce:  he was featured in a film called "Amazing Grace," a film about Wilberforce and the struggle against the slave trade, directed by Michael Apted and starring Ioan Gruffudd and Benedict Cumberbatch.  It was released in 2007 to coincide with the 200th anniversary of Parliament's anti-slave trade legislation.

Zhao was among the 87 Chinese Catholics and 33 missionaries who were killed and canonized at the same time.  She was one of three beheaded for refusing to recant her beliefs.

So, who do you favor?

Lent Madness: Mary v. Martha

Today begins Lent Madness, a time when we are reviewing the lives of 32 saints over the course of Lent.  I am the first to admit that my ability to understand the sport-like nature of this competition is quite limited, but, everyone has the ability to vote for their favorite between two saints that are introduced each day.

This first day of Lent is between Mary and Martha of Bethany, sisters to Lazarus.  The descriptions at the link are more than sufficient.  I will merely add below a part of a project I did a number of years ago - a fictional first person account of Martha, just to give a bit of an alternative viewpoint.  But post in the comments if you have a favorite, and why.  What draws you to one person over the other?  How is that reflected in your own life?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
MARTHA

He took the time to teach me.  He is the Christ, the Son of God come into the world, and yet, He took the time to let me know that what I do is important, and my cooking, planning and serving is appreciated, needed, and necessary to keep things going behind the scenes, so to speak.

At the same time, He reminds me that the curious nature of Mary is equally valued.  She listens and questions, seeking understanding and helping others find understanding where they might have been too timid to ask.  We must each serve, according to our own nature and inclination, and all bring value in the sight of God.

I think what Christ truly opened my eyes to is that I, too, can appreciate Mary and her ways, without needing to chastise her for neglecting our guests or being unseemly in the minds of others, but rather see that she cares for them in a different manner, helping to keep the learning and conversation going, helping others feel more at ease with their questions.

Christ’s announcement to me still holds me in awe – “I am the resurrection and the life.  He who believes in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.”  He brought Lazarus back to us among the living, but even had he not, Lazarus would still never truly die, for he would be with our Father in heaven.  Lazarus’ resurrection will serve the community as a living reminder of our life eternal in Christ.

We all serve the cause of Christ in our own way.  I’m grateful for the opportunity to serve in my own capacity.

Ash Wednesday Sermon

          Episcopalians, by their very nature, tend to be people of intellect, logic and belief – generally in that order.  The question Anglican minister John Wesley would ask at the beginning of a small group gathering, "How is it with your Soul?"  wasn't for a glib answer, but one that was reasoned and meditated upon.  He didn't start out with "How are you?" as a warm-up.  He wanted to get right to the meat of the discussion and make you think.

          Today is the start of Lent, a 40-day period of time, not including Sundays, that is designed to be an intense time of self-reflection and introspection. It reminds us of the time that Jesus spent in the wilderness following his baptism, described in the gospels as a time of trial and testing. Lent seeks to strip us down, remove those distractions, and helps us focus our attention on what really matters in our lives – the very condition of our souls. Or, to put it in the words of Jesus at the end of our text this evening, where are our hearts? Where are our treasures?

          Treasures are often defined in material ways – those things that keep us comfortable or nostalgic, successful and fulfilled.  They can also be defined in non‑material ways, whether focused on physical appearance, promotions at work, our reputation, or a gift or ability.  Stanley Saunders, author of "Exegetical Perspective," about this passage notes, "Treasure is defined by being a focus of attention, energy, imagination, and resourcefulness. While we often think of the treasures that Jesus warns against as material goods, 'treasures upon the earth' is probably a wider category, encompassing not only physical possessions but such values as success, security, happiness, or even life itself." 

          So, many people use these 40 days as an opportunity to deny themselves of something, whether that be a favorite type of food, too much time on the internet or "stuff" we no longer need.  And these can certainly be valuable methods of determining where we are really placing our time and energy.  But where is your heart?

          Others approach Lenten disciplines by adding a spiritual practice. Someone I know is using these 40 days to intentionally take walks alone and be more aware of the world around her. She intends for these walks to be a way of embodied prayer, making her slow down and spend intentional time on her spiritual life.

          Often, additions like these incorporate the three traditional spiritual practices of Lent – service, prayer, and fasting. These ways of living out faith have deep biblical roots, and have been practiced by Christians throughout the centuries as a way of drawing closer to God. However, sometimes our best intentions for these practices end up misguided.  If we aren't careful, we turn these practices into being all about us – how pious and good we are at being Christian. They become just like treasures to us, distracting our hearts from what matters.

          By freeing ourselves from the binds of these other "treasures" in the world, we believe we might be more open to deepening our relationship with God. Our hearts have to have this intention in order to make it a spiritual practice, rather than just a self-improvement tool. 

          Jesus tells the crowd assembled to hear his sermon on the mount that they should avoid showing off their piety.  And here we are, intending to be marked with the sign of the cross on our foreheads, and walk out into the world.  Isn't that a display of public piety?

          In Matthew 6, Jesus addresses three ways that the Jews of his day practiced their faith: through charitable giving, through prayer, and through fasting. He doesn't suggest that there is anything wrong with these practices. Absolutely not! Each section begins not: "If you … " but: "Whenever you … " Jesus assumes that his hearers will give, and pray, and fast. He corrects not the actions themselves, but his followers' motives for doing them.

          Jesus warns against hypocritical prayer, but he clearly doesn't forbid corporate or formal prayer. A few verses later in this same passage Jesus teaches his community of disciples the Lord's Prayer as a model to memorize and use. Although in today's reading Jesus advises praying behind a closed door, his focus is not on where one prays, but on why and how.

          Genuine prayer is not a theatrical display; it is a conversation with "your Father who is in secret." His language suggests a loving family relationship.  If a wife said, "I love you", and her husband replied, "I love you too," what would happen if the wife tells him – "Prove it.  Scream it to the world", and the husband whispers in her ear, "I love you."  His wife asks, "Why did you whisper it to me?"  And he responds, "Because you are my world."  What are your intentions?

          Lent calls us to a kind of social death. Putting on these ashes represents letting go of the illusion that we are superior to anyone else – we are but dust. Putting on these ashes is about letting go of roles and expectations so that we can open ourselves to the reality of what is, and who we really are.  Think about your intentions, your attitudes, and be brutally honest with yourself.  The Holy Spirit dwells in us, and can help our journey of self-discovery.  When in doubt, trace your thumb along the sign of the cross on your forehead.

Tuesday Sermon: Gracious Acceptance

          Today's reading from Tobit is one of the reasons my professors didn't quite know what to do with me.  I tend to see things a bit differently than other scholars – even when it comes to St. Augustine.

          In this reading, scholars see Tobit as overreacting to a goat his wife is gifted with, on top of the pay that she earned.  He automatically jumps to the conclusion that it must be stolen, and is angered when she points out that she received it with her pay, and he doesn't believe her.  At this point, scholars believe that Anna was harsh with Tobit, essentially mocking his blindness and telling him to return it himself if that's what he thinks.

          On the other hand, I was gifted with rheumatoid arthritis that got really bad in my 30s, to the point where it would take me 2 hours to dress, where I had to learn to write with my left hand since my right one didn't work, and eventually everything had to be typed, but then that hurt too.  For 3 years, I wondered if I would end up crippled, unable to care for myself as my body got worse and worse.  Not only was there chronic pain, which made me a real … pain to deal with as I snapped at everyone, but I had to learn to ask for help.  Worse than that!  I had to learn to be gracious in accepting help – even if I didn't ask for it!

          The thing I want to point out about Tobit is actually found in Chapter 1 of that book:  "But I alone went often to Jerusalem for the festivals, as it is prescribed for all Israel by an everlasting decree. I would hurry off to Jerusalem with the first fruits of the crops and the firstlings of the flock, the tithes of the cattle, and the first shearings of the sheep. I would give these to the priests, the sons of Aaron, at the altar; likewise the tenth of the grain, wine, olive oil, pomegranates, figs, and the rest of the fruits to the sons of Levi who ministered at Jerusalem. Also for six years I would save up a second tenth in money and go and distribute it in Jerusalem. A third tenth I would give to the orphans and widows and to the converts who had attached themselves to Israel."

          Tobit was a generous and charitable man, long before he was afflicted with blindness.  He actually took a bit of pride in his accomplishments and his righteousness.  So as his wife was working, her employers knew of the current hardships the family suffered, and felt that finally! they might be able to provide something in return for Tobit's goodness.  Providing Anna with a goat would give the family some well-deserved meat for their table, but making it as a bit of a bonus for Anna, it wouldn't seem quite so much like charity, so that Tobit could still keep his honor intact.

          Hearing Anna's question to Tobit, “Where are your acts of charity? Where are your righteous deeds? These things are known about you!”, I think she's pointing out that now it's time for him to feel as others might have felt with his own acts of charity.  Not only would this allow others to be a blessing to him in their time of need, but he would also have to learn graciousness in accepting such a gift with thanks, and not the harsh anger at not being able to do what he used to do. 

          It's hard for us sometimes to allow others the opportunity to give back when they've been blessed.  Our attitude however, makes all the difference.  Learning to give thanks graciously is, I think, a blessing that God provides to us all at some point in our lives.  We allow others to share their own blessedness with us, and do for others as we are able, at various times in our lives.  It's all part of loving one another as Christ asked us to do.

          Let us pray:  Dear Lord, let those of us who have much and those who have little gather at the welcoming table of the Lord. May rich and poor alike remember that we are called to serve one another and to walk together in God's gracious world. With thankful hearts, we praise our God who like a loving parent denies us no good thing.  Amen.

Sermon: The Mountaintop

          I'd like you to close your eyes, and take a deep breath, hold it for a couple seconds, and let it out slowly.  As you breathe out, imagine Christ coming up behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders and giving a squeeze, as you breathe in again.  You can feel that man's love for you, mixed with God's love for you, all in that one moment.  You can open your eyes again.

          Wanting to stay in a moment like that – feeling yourself surrounded by pure love, holding your child for the very first time, seeing the absolute perfect sunset, joining with the one you love – these are moments that feed our souls.  It gives a person the peaceful sense that all is right in the world, even if just for a moment. 

          So let's look at that moment on the mountaintop, where Peter, James and John witness Jesus meeting with Moses and Elijah.  In this instance, we are witnessing with the apostles the evolution of time.  Moses represents the law.  We listened in the Old Testament as he descended the mountain, face shining with the reflection of God's glory, in order to give the law of God to the people.  That reflection provided us with the true definition of awe-some, because within that overflowing emotion, there is also an element of fear – that the moment will end, or we may not be able to completely comprehend, and that will bring the fear of the unknown.  Moses stood in the presence of God, long enough that his very being took on a holy, otherworldly glow.  He was bringing God's word, His laws, His commandments to a people who were afraid of the freedoms they were currently experiencing.  They may not have been happy in slavery to the Egyptians, but they at least knew what to expect and when to expect it.  Now, they were free, but had no idea how to live in freedom.  God's guidance for them, and for future generations came at the cost of time:  that of giving them laws, and giving their children time to learn how to grow into freedom. 

          The other person there with Jesus was Elijah.  Elijah was a prophet, but certainly one of the most important in history.  His defense of God and actions on behalf of God in many miracles, including raising the dead and bringing fire down from the sky, is legendary to the disciples.  He, too, had a mountaintop experience at Mt. Horeb, another name for Mt. Sinai, after wandering through the desert for 40 days.  Elijah, however, never died, but was taken directly from Earth as he was speaking with Elisha:  "And it came to pass, as they still went on, and talked, that, behold, there appeared a chariot of fire, and horses of fire, which parted them both asunder; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven."  Malachi later prophesied that Elijah would return before the Messiah came.

          So Jesus stood here, showing that both Moses and Elijah were separate from him, but that he brought both new law and new word from God, with a new covenant that fulfilled the law and the prophets of old.  There are times I wonder if it might not have been a little more clear to the overwhelmed apostles if Adam had also appeared. 

          But like all who want to capture that moment, to live in it just a little bit longer, Peter suggested building dwellings, or booths, places where each of the three – Jesus, Moses and Elijah – could stay, and they could stay too.  There is a natural tendency to want to stay in that feeling of being overwhelmed with the glory of God!

          But God spoke for the second time in the New Testament where all could hear, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”  And the other visions disappeared, and reality was once again restored.  The apostles had their instructions directly from God.  This moment of solitude and vision, connection with God, was complete.

          In a book I'm reading at the moment called "The Soul's Slow Ripening", the author states:  "Solitude is not a practice just for ourselves but a practice to cultivate within each of us a greater capacity for living in communion with the world."

          When Moses came down from the mountain, he was faced with the reality that people feared him, because his face shone with the reflection of God's glory.  As Paul points out in his letter to the Corinthians, Christians have to hear the word of God without the veil that Moses donned, so that they can hear and understand what God is telling them.  They have in Christ both the law and the prophets of old, but to understand clearly, they have to remove the veil from their eyes. 

          When Christ came down from the mountain, he was faced with the reality of disciples who didn't believe His words that they could heal the sick and cast out demons in His name.  He knew that His time on Earth was coming to an end, having looked toward Jerusalem, as He had just discussed with Moses and Elijah.  He already knew life was going to get tough.  Now, however, He also had to pray that His disciples would somehow "get it" before He was ready to leave; that their faith in Him and in His word would be understood without the veil of Moses, and that healing done in His name would be successful.  If they didn't have faith, how could they know the glory of God without the veil?

          Experiencing mountaintop moments can help us feed our souls, and strengthen our faith, to help us have a greater capacity for living in communion with the world.  We have to remember that Christ is not just at the mountaintop. He is in the least, the last and the lost; He is the one who needs clothing, or something to eat or drink, or be visited in prison.  He left us both the work to do, and the ability to do it – to see Him in every person and hold that mountaintop feeling in our hearts, having faith that as we share the Good News with others, the Kingdom of Heaven is being built right here, one person at a time.