All Things With Hope - A Sermon

Today is one of those days when you don’t know which direction to turn.  Is it the weekend of Thanksgiving (with everyone traveling)?  Is it the First Sunday of Advent (hence the candles)?  Or is it Ingathering Sunday (hence the collection of pledge cards)?  Where do we give our attention?

Well, being Anglicans, we’re inclusive.  So, we observe all of them.

Because, being Anglicans, we can see the common bond that ties them together.  

Of course, the common bond in everything that God makes is love.  But there is another nearly as important bond: hope.

Now, hope has three main elements.  It is for something in the future.  It is for something desirable.  And it is for something that is at least theoretically possible.  All three of those are found in giving thanks, waiting for Christ, and pledging. 

Think of it.  Can you really give thanks for whatever is good in your life without the hope that your thanks will please the giver?  Or the hope that there will be something to be thankful for in the future?  When you think of it, one of the most hopeful acts a person can commit is to say “Thank You.”

You may not know it, but the official holiday of Thanksgiving was instituted during the Civil War.  Whatever his political reasons for instituting it, Abraham Lincoln knew that a people giving thanks cannot but hope for and imagine a better future.  Those who see nothing to be thankful for in their past or present see little to hope for in the future.

Or watching and waiting.  As our Gospel today says, “Beware, keep alert. Keep awake.”  Just before this passage and including it, Jesus describes a frightening and traumatic time of suffering and persecution in the unknown future.  You’d think that would be enough to make them lose heart.

Only then, Jesus tells them the Son of Man will return -- and bring with him God’s kingdom of righteousness and justice and mercy.  When this will happen, nobody knows, but Jesus instructs his followers to be alert, to watch for the signs, be keep awake. 

That’s what we do in Advent.  We watch,  We wait.   Watching is -- in and of itself -- an act of hope because it means we believe the future still holds something in store for us.  It means that we still have a role to play in the drama of life.  Even a soldier watching for the enemy does so with the hope of surviving the battle so they can go home to their families.

We watch,  We wait.  For Christ the small and humble child who comes in order to die on a cross and rise to new life again, thus destroying the power of death.  We watch for Christ, the glorious and victorious Son of Man returning with the angels to judge all, with the hope that we will be judged with the promised mercy and love.

You just can’t look to the future without hope.

The same holds true for that simple act of pledging.  Think about the word itself: PLEDGE.  You know, I pledge allegiance.  I pledge my honor.  I pledge my love. 

Pledging yourself is an act of hope, an act of trust.  Whether it’s your money, your honor, your life -- nobody pledges themselves without the hope that what they do will make a positive difference in the world.

I pledge myself to this mystical ministry called St. James’.  When I do so, I’m telling you that I believe this church is called to do the work of the Christ who will one day come in glory to judge the earth.  When I put that little piece of paper in the plate, I’m telling you that I trust in Jesus’ promise of life everlasting -- and hope to be part of it.  

When I pledge my money and my time to this place, I do so in the hope that my life and ministry here has meaning.  Because without that hope, what would be the point?

Our Stewardship theme this year has been PLEDGE WITH HOPE.  As in, We HOPE you’ll pledge a lot.  But seriously, that word HOPE lies at the heart of who we are as Christians.  Our hope is in the Lord who loves us enough to become one of us.  We give thanks in hope.  We watch in hope.  We pledge in hope.  

Because we are Christians, and Christians do all things with hope. Amen.

Help! I Have Goat Feet! -- A Sermon

I got a phone call Friday from the local nursing home.  They had a man who was dying and wanted to see a priest.  Not that uncommon, really, so I asked the usual questions:  

Does he have a church somewhere that should be informed?  “No.”  

Do they know his faith? “No.  In fact, he probably doesn’t even believe in God.”

Well, then why does he want to see a priest?  “Because he’s dying.”

And?  “He’s getting cold feet.  No pun intended.”

So, when you say cold feet you mean?  “He’s afraid.”

Afraid of what? He doesn’t believe.  “The closer he gets to death the more he believes there’s something to be afraid of.  As in hell.”

What makes him so afraid?  “Well, he’s a really mean and selfish and obnoxious person --  always has been.  Besides, he’s all alone.”

No family?  “They don’t want anything to do with him.  Like I said, he’s really mean.”

As it turns out, his death isn’t quite so imminent, and the soonest I could get an appointment to see the man is next Wednesday, but the issues are real.  He’s afraid the way he lived his life might leave him open to judgment.  

In short, he’s afraid not so much because he has cold feet as because he has goat feet.    He’s afraid of the judgment to come when Jesus will sort through the sheep and the goats and point to him and say -- GOAT!

Now, I just have to say a word in defense of goats.  They are not mean and selfish or obnoxious. They are clever, curious, friendly animals and have actually always been highly regarded by all societies including Israel.  Sheep, on the other hand are dumb, though they are admittedly useful.

So why the sorting of sheep and goats?  Well, first, shepherds had to separate them out because they were sold and used for different purposes, and back then they looked a lot more alike than they do today.  But goats had one or two strikes against them.  They were seen as a symbol of virility in many cultures, and that sexual undertone made them suspect among many of the religious elite. Also, in Judaism, there was the practice of the scapegoat.  Once a year -- at Yom Kippur -- two goats were set aside.  One was sacrificed as an offering to God. The other -- the scapegoat -- was led to the edge of town and had all the sins of the community symbolically placed upon it -- then it was sent out into the wilderness, taking the sins with it.  So the goat was the sin bearer.

But mostly in the gospel, Jesus was just using sheep and goats to say that there WILL be a judgment -- a sorting out between the good and the bad.  That is what this man was afraid of.  He did not want to look down and see goat feet.

And you know, this is what most people fear when it comes to death.  They are not afraid of going to heaven.  For the most part they aren’t even afraid that they’ll just cease to exist as if they never had been.  They are afraid of eternal punishment.

But remember that the same Jesus who describes this judgment is the same one who says “Fear not.”  What is required is not so much to believe the right thing.  It’s not even required that we belong to the right church.

What’s required is ubuntu.  Now, if you’ve never heard that word before, it’s a Bantu word from southern Africa and it has been very current in the Anglican communion lately.  It has been held up as the thing that will keep us Anglicans together and will renew our purpose.  What is ubuntu?  

Roughly speaking, it is the bond which connects all humanity.  It is the belief that every one of us belongs to the other, and that when one hurts, we all suffer.  Ubuntu is what Jesus was talking about in the gospel.  Those who practice it -- who don’t care who needs their help because we are all bound to each other -- reach out to the stranger.  In Africa, any stranger who wanders into a village automatically receives hospitality without even asking -- the villagers look for wanderers and offer food and shelter.  They look for the hurting and go to them.  Those who live ubuntu enter into joy. 

In contrast, those who see no bond between each other, who live only for themselves -- well, they end up like that man in the nursing home:  alone, unloved, and afraid.  And it’s fair to say that even in the land of its origin, ubuntu is often forgotten.  There are a lot of goats out there.

But that doesn’t matter.  We are called to ubuntu, and that is what drives us at St. James’.  We live to invite others into the Kingdom of Heaven.  We breathe to go out and lend a helping hand.  We know in our core that we are connected through bonds that are stronger than mere affection.

Last week I offered reasons, even in this difficult economy, for being part of the church’s mission - for pledging your support.  Well, if you wonder what we are giving all this money for you could say it’s Ubuntu.  

That’s who we are.  We are here to affirm the bond between us.  To serve those who hurt because their pain is ours.  To hold up “the least of these” because they and we are bound in God.  That’s our mission.  That’s what we fund in our giving.  

I don’t want to disparage goats or frighten people with threats of eternal fire.  Yet there is the standard which Jesus puts before us: Do we see ourselves as bound one to another?  Do we believe and act as if what happens to a poor person in Africa (or Amenia) has meaning to us?  If so, that’s ubuntu -- and Christ will say to us, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”

Barak to the Rescue - A Sermon

27 Pentecost 08

I hope you had a chance to listen to the Old Testament reading before assuming my sermon title was a political statement.  But, really, when I read the passage from Judges about Barak being called upon by the Judge Deborah to save Israel from the much stronger Canaanites, well, I couldn’t resist.  I bet you didn’t even know Barak was in the bible.

Everyone looked upon Barak to save the day -- and for the most part he did -- but he could not do it by himself.  He needed an army of 10,000 Israelites behind him -- and one woman, Jael, who killed the Canaanite general Sisera.  Most importantly, he knew he needed God -- which is why he refused to go into battle without Deborah as the physical sign that it was God in whom Israel should place their hope, not Barak.

Which brings us to our own Barack and our nation’s troubles. Have you noticed how a lot of people are assuming he will save the day?  Sadly, too many think one man can change everything by himself, so they have thrown the problems of our nation upon him and said “Fix it!”  He can’t.  No one can alone.  He has already warned the nation that we will have to work together.

It’s that working together that’s the hard part.  We are anxious in our time of economic crisis.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a time where people are so scared and angry that they’re utterly at a loss of what to do.  Many are virtually paralyzed by fear.

And so I will tell you what the first thing to do is.  Do like Barak -- place your hope in God.  But realize that does not mean to say, “God will fix it,” and then go hide until it’s all over.  We who believe and follow Christ know that we are called upon to be partners in making the world a better place.

I admit, sometimes it’s tempting to tell yourself, “Today’s problems are too big.  I’ll just hide and let someone else take care of it.”  But think of today’s Gospel before you decide to do that.  Think about those talents.

Now, if you thought the parable of the talents proved that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, you’re wrong.  The real point of this talent is that regardless of how much you have -- whether it be 5 talents or 3 talents (by the way, a talent is said to be equivalient to about $2,000) -- if you honestly work with it, you’ll be okay.  It’s when you are paralyzed by fear that things don’t work.

Fear is the enemy of our faith -- of our lives, really.  It was not because he made no money that the servant who buried his talent in the ground was punished -- it was because he froze.  He allowed his fear to overwhelm him.

We won’t do that.  We know it is not Barak -- or Obama -- to the rescue.  It is God.  And we are part of the rescue, part of the solution to the problems before us.  Back in Barak’s day it was an invading army.  Today it is financial crisis.  Either way, Christians know that we are called to move forward in hope and trust that Christ moves with us -- no, that Christ leads us.

And so we come to that even more difficult part -- the part of the sermon that makes us all the more anxious and that we all want to avoid -- but because God leads us, we will not avoid.  

Yes, I’m talking about Stewardship.  Pledging.  I need to talk with you about pledging today because we are at a point in our church’s life where this is a crucial conversation.  But it is one we will approach with hope and trust, not fear.

As you know, we chose the theme “PLEDGE WITH HOPE” precisely because of the economic crisis.  As Russell so succinctly put it, we are asking you to pledge this year in the face of uncertainty but also in the hope that all will be well.  We are asking you to move forward both aware of how things can change but refusing to be paralyzed by our fear.

We will not say, “I can’t pledge - I don’t know if I’m even going to have a job next month.”  We will not say, “I can’t get involved in any ministries right now -- I might get transferred or have to move in search of work.”  The parable tells us that this paralysis can’t advance the Kingdom of God.  

This doesn’t mean you destroy yourself.  It doesn’t mean you pledge money you KNOW you don’t have, or burn yourself out.  There are plenty of people in this church who can pledge enough and give enough of their time to advance our mutual ministry.  

I’m not going to go over all our many ministries at St. James’ -- and I’m not going to go over the budget.  You know we do a lot and you know we are in the red.  

Yet, sometimes we look at our endowment and assume it will save us.  It won’t.  Or we looke at wealthier parishioners and assume they’ll make it better.  They won’t.  We’re already in the process of reducing some employee hours and even considering cutting positions and ministries.

Sometimes we look at the faithful 20% of the congregation who do 80% of the work and assume they will always make things happen.  They won’t.  They are burning out.  

If we assume others will take care of our budget or our ministries, then we are waiting on Barak to fix it.  Then we have become that servant who buried his talent out of fear.  I ask you to leave your fear behind.  Move forward in hope -- in trust -- in faith that it is God who leads you.  Although you may have received your pledge cards in the mail already, I’ve asked to have more printed so you can hold one in your hands right now.  

Look at it not in fear (or disgust), but consider three things:  1)  The ministries we support are valuable and worthy.  They give us meaning.  2)  Some people may not be able to financially support those ministries -- but that doesn’t mean your or I can’t.  3)  No one knows the future.  As we move forward in hope -- as we pledge in hope -- remember that things can just as easily get better as they can get worse. 

In the parable today, it didn’t really matter how much money each servant was given.  What mattered was the attitude they approached their challenge with.  Let US leave fear behind and approach our challenge with hope and trust.  Let us PLEDGE WITH HOPE.

And remember.  Barak did not save the day.  He was allowed to play a role in Israel’s rescue, but he knew -- and we know -- our hope is in the Lord.   Amen.

Abortion again, and again, and again

Maybe you saw the news last week about a Catholic priest who demanded that any of his parishioners who voted for Barack Obama should exclude themselves from Holy Communion.  Or that the Catholic Bishops of America are going to hold Obama's feet to the fire on abortion.

Why?

For some reason, this has become the cause celebre of Roman Catholicism.  The same church that doesn't allow its people to practice birth control also won't allow anyone to have an abortion.  As if that will stop them.

This little dust-up raises several issues.

1.  Why do people remain Roman Catholic?  You've seen the bumper stickers that say, "You can't be both Catholic and Pro-Choice."  Yet, a recent survey showed that 58% of Roman Catholics think abortion should be legal.  Hmmm.  After the recent complaints about Obama sitting in a pew for 20 years listening to someone he didn't agree with, you'd think that these folks would be running from the church -- and that the church would be kicking them out.  But they don't go, and the church keeps accepting their money.  I'm telling you, just this week about the 18th person told me they can't stand what they hear in the Catholic pulpits but just can't leave because, as one told me, "well, you just can't."

2.  Abortion is not a scriptural issue.  It's not condemned by the bible.  I know, they say it's murder, but the bible doesn't say so.  Yes, I know scripture condemns murder, but the evidence for abortion being considered murder is weak.  In fact, scriptural evidence for fetuses being considered human is nearly non-existent.  Although there are several references to doing things "from my mother's womb" these almost universally mean, "from infancy" or "from early childhood."  It's clear they don't mean pre-birth.  The best anyone can offer is Jeremiah 1:5: "Before I formed you in the belly, I knew you. Before you came forth out of the womb, I sanctified you. I have appointed you a prophet to the nations."

But think about it.  First of all, this refers to one specific person, Jeremiah.  You can extend it to all people, of course, but that's not what the text says.  More importantly, this verse talks about the soul, not the body.  God knew Jeremiah presumably even before conception ("before I formed you in the belly").  But note that it is only "before you came forth out of the womb" that he is sanctified.  That could easily and justifiably indicate that the soul does not enter the body until much later.   Either way, this and other scripture citations do not offer anything definitive about when the person becomes a person.  Traditionally, the time of quickening -- when the mother can feel the child move -- is the time when you can consider the fetus to be a person.

3. Abortion distracts us from Justice issues -- It's a funny thing how we can get all worked up about one issue -- abortion -- and ignore everything else even when the other issues are more important.  Take, for example, care for the poor.  Or domestic abuse.  Or pedophilia.  Or war.  I will admit that the Roman Catholic Church does speak out on some of these issues and does act on a lot of justice issues, but I did not see Rome threatening to excommunicate anyone voting for a war it called unjust.  

We have a lot of work -- and are not doing a very good job of -- taking care of those who are already born.  How is it that this church spends so much energy trying to force the unwilling to have more children so that they too can be abused by a harsh world?  If a person feels they are not capable of caring for a child -- and let's face it, adoption simply isn't a viable option for many -- it seems immoral to force their hand.  Let us focus on the justice issues where we can actually make the world better.

4.  The move to prohibit abortion is bad theology -- I do not mean that abortion is a good that must be protected.  Ideally, the best thing to do is minimize the number as much as possible.  But a punitive approach is not that of Christ.  He looked upon those who were scared and up against a wall with compassion.  He looked upon those who sincerely tried to help others not as villains but as Samaritans.  If we want to simply punish people, then by all means make it illegal.  But again, this was not Jesus' way.  

5. Prohibiting abortion is not practical-- it doesn't work!  You can make abortion as illegal as you want, but you won't stop it.  You won't even significantly reduce the number of abortions.  All you will do is increase the number of botched abortions resulting in death and disfigurement of young women  (mostly poor) who could not face the possibility of caring for another person (or telling their parents or suffering physically).  All you will do is increase the number of back ally abortions.

Again, if you want to reduce the number of abortions, legislation is not the answer.  Social justice is.  The best antidote to teen pregnancy is education and empowerment.  Studies have showed that even helping young girls open and manage their own bank accounts helps reduce the number of teen pregnancies.  Making birth control available and teaching kids about sex -- what it is and how it works and what the consequences are -- will reduce the number of unwanted pregnancies and therefore abortions.

Do those things, and abortions will go down.  Notice that the countries with the lowest percentage of abortions are also those with the most permissive abortion laws.  Countries with draconian laws generally have high abortion rates and high death rates.  So, is that what the Roman Catholic Church wants?  I hope not.

A Prayer for President-elect Obama

We have  a new President-elect, and I am filled with hope.  While others may not, it is important that we all understand a few things.  First, no one person (Jesus excepted) is perfect.  Neither can he do it all alone.  Second, we as a country are bigger than the work of any one person -- good or bad, we will persevere.  Most importantly, we have the obligation as citizens and people of faith to support and pray for President-elect Obama.  With that in mind, here is a prayer from our Book of Common Prayer.

Lord our Governor, whose glory is in all the world: We commend this nation to your merciful care, that, being guided by your Providence, we may dwell secure in your peace.  Grant to President-elect Obama and to all in authority, wisdom and strength to know and to do your will.  Fill them with the love of truth and righteousness, and make them ever mindful of their calling to serve this people in your fear; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end.  Amen.

Joy with the Saints - A Sermon

As you know, Anna Mae Swenson is turning 100.  There are parties and celebrations all week long, it seems.  Come to think of it, we’re having one here in a little bit.  Another party was yesterday when many of her family and friends gathered.  Her niece talked about planning music and everything, and (although I might be getting the details a bit wrong), when thought they had it right, Anna Mae said, “Oh no, those are my funeral plans, these are my party plans.”  Apparently, the music was joyful enough that it was hard to tell difference.

Funeral or Bithday -- Dead or Alive.  Actually, in a good life, the line does become blurred because it’s not either.  Or it’s both.  Life and death all belong to God and are al connected.  We’re all saints, not just those who have died.  

Now, it is All Saints Sunday, and we are asked to remember the dead (In many languages it’s called “The Day of the Dead”). That’s why the lessons for All Saints’ are all used at funerals -- they remind us that we are not complete in this world -- not yet.  That we  have much to endure in life on earth but that in the end we will enter into eternal life and join those who have gone before.   It’s appropriate to call them saints.  But the lessons are also about living in the world right now.  And being a saint means living in the world where you are.

So a saint is more than just some dead person who did great things.  A saint is someone who is truly alive.  Someone who lives life filled with JOY.   As the famous Presbyterian minister and novelist Frederick Buechner once wrote “To be a saint is to live not with the hands clenched to grasp, to strike, to hold tight to a life that is always slipping away the more tightly we hold it; but it is to live with the hands stretched out both to give and to receive with gladness. …  Maybe more than anything else, to be a saint is to know joy. Not happiness that comes and goes with the moments that occasion it, but joy that is always there like an underground spring no matter how dark and terrible the night.”

Joy.  That’s how a life is lived despite the moments of good and bad that come and go.  Looking at the Beatitudes, we see the same thing.  When Jesus says “Blessed are those who --” the word blessed can be justifiably understood to be “Joyful.”   But NOT happy.  

The joy of a saint comes from knowing God’s constant and endless love.  It comes from the assurance that no matter what, God will be with us.  It comes from the awareness that while we work to spread God’s love on earth, we are participating in God’s kingdom right now.  And from the knowledge that in due time, we will enter into a life lived in the presence of God in a way we can only dream of right now.

There are a lot of saints running around the world right now.  Many of them are sitting in this church right now.  You are the saints.

I see it when you reach out to help celebrate a birthday -- or help a child read or a hungry person eat.  I see it when you give your all to keep buildings running so others can have a place to worship -- and a refuge to come to when all they need is a quiet garden or an open church to sit in.  I see it in those who teach and those who wash dishes.  I see it in you when you ponder your pledge cards and truly ask yourself what God is calling you to.  (I wouldn’t say pledging makes anyone exactly happy, but it certainly is part of a joyful life).

So today, let’s celebrate (Anna Mae,) God’s love, joy in our hearts, the fact that we are living among a groups of saints right now.  We love God, we know Christ’s love in our hearts.  It’s enough to make you give an alleluia.  So, Alleluia!  Amen.

Living with the Saints - A Sermon

As you know, Anna Mae Swenson is turning 100.  There are parties and celebrations all week long, it seems.  Come to think of it, we’re having one here in a little bit.  Another party was yesterday when many of her family and friends gathered.  Her niece talked about planning music and everything, and (although I might be getting the details a bit wrong), when thought they had it right, Anna Mae said, “Oh no, those are my funeral plans, these are my party plans.”  Apparently, the music was joyful enough that it was hard to tell difference.

Funeral or Bithday -- Dead or Alive.  Actually, in a good life, the line does become blurred because it’s not either.  Or it’s both.  Life and death all belong to God and are al connected.  We’re all saints, not just those who have died.  

Now, it is All Saints Sunday, and we are asked to remember the dead (In many languages it’s called “The Day of the Dead”). That’s why the lessons for All Saints’ are all used at funerals -- they remind us that we are not complete in this world -- not yet.  That we  have much to endure in life on earth but that in the end we will enter into eternal life and join those who have gone before.   It’s appropriate to call them saints.  But the lessons are also about living in the world right now.  And being a saint means living in the world where you are.

So a saint is more than just some dead person who did great things.  A saint is someone who is truly alive.  Someone who lives life filled with JOY.   As the famous Presbyterian minister and novelist Frederick Buechner once wrote “To be a saint is to live not with the hands clenched to grasp, to strike, to hold tight to a life that is always slipping away the more tightly we hold it; but it is to live with the hands stretched out both to give and to receive with gladness. …  Maybe more than anything else, to be a saint is to know joy. Not happiness that comes and goes with the moments that occasion it, but joy that is always there like an underground spring no matter how dark and terrible the night.”

Joy.  That’s how a life is lived despite the moments of good and bad that come and go.  Looking at the Beatitudes, we see the same thing.  When Jesus says “Blessed are those who --” the word blessed can be justifiably understood to be “Joyful.”   But NOT happy.  

The joy of a saint comes from knowing God’s constant and endless love.  It comes from the assurance that no matter what, God will be with us.  It comes from the awareness that while we work to spread God’s love on earth, we are participating in God’s kingdom right now.  And from the knowledge that in due time, we will enter into a life lived in the presence of God in a way we can only dream of right now.

There are a lot of saints running around the world right now.  Many of them are sitting in this church right now.  You are the saints.

I see it when you reach out to help celebrate a birthday -- or help a child read or a hungry person eat.  I see it when you give your all to keep buildings running so others can have a place to worship -- and a refuge to come to when all they need is a quiet garden or an open church to sit in.  I see it in those who teach and those who wash dishes.  I see it in you when you ponder your pledge cards and truly ask yourself what God is calling you to.  (I wouldn’t say pledging makes anyone exactly happy, but it certainly is part of a joyful life).

So today, let’s celebrate (Anna Mae,) God’s love, joy in our hearts, the fact that we are living among a groups of saints right now.  We love God, we know Christ’s love in our hearts.  It’s enough to make you give an alleluia.  So, Alleluia!  Amen.