Preached at St Ann's Nashville July 31, 2011
Genesis 32:22-31
Psalm 17: 1-7, 16
Romans 9:1-5
Matthew 14:13-21
God give us the courage to bring you what we have so that you can bless it and break it and share it with the world
Amen
The last time Jacob was alone in the desert he encountered the holy and witnessed the kingdom of God breaking through to earth. He had a dream of a ladder with Angels ascending and descending. That time he was running for his life, a stolen a blessing tucked in his back pocket. He had gone to his old blind father disguised as his brother and lied about who he was to get his fathers blessing, then ran away. That time he saw messengers of love constantly on the move.
This time he is on his way back, understandably nervous about how the brother he lied to and cheated and ran from will react to his homecoming. He splits up his family and sends them across a river to keep them safe.
And spends the night alone.
This time his encounter with the holy is not as sweet. Not as pretty. This time his encounter with the nature of God is more intense. This time a man wrestles with him until daybreak. This is not a God simply to be believed in, but grappled with, this is not an intellectual proposition or dusty set set of doctrines to be debated, but an all consuming struggle. This is a face of God that can be held onto, that can be clung to, that can fight back. And somehow he holds on. Its what he has always done. His very name means grasper. He held his brother's heel on their way into the world and has been grabbing ever since. He even manages to hold onto this man or angel or God all night long. Even after his hip is knocked out of joint. He holds on. He holds on and he asks for a blessing. And then the angel asks his name.
Why?
I mean surely this big wrestling angel knows who he has been struggling with all night, right? Does this angel go out every night into the desert and pick fights with lonely men?
Will he need to fill out paper work when he gets back to heaven?
Or is he giving Jacob a chance to repair the lie that severed him from his family and himself?
We are rewinding and rewriting the first story
See, when his father, Issac, was giving Jacob the blessing he knew something was up. “are you really my son Easu?” he asked. And Jacob lied right to his blind fathers face and said “I am”
So when the angel asks Jacob who he is it is a loaded question.
But this time he answers, “Jacob”
he can admit who he is. A grasper, a supplanter, a striver, an underminer, devious and desperate.
This time He is admitting to God and to himself who he is.
And in that wonderful moment the angel says says “not anymore”
"You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel. Which means God has kicked your butt and you held on. Really, it means God strives. It means you are now defined by your relationship with God and no longer by the worst parts of yourself.
Then showing just how much he hasn't changed Jacob asks “so, whats your name?”
and the Angel says “why is it that you ask my name?”
Have I ever lied about who I am?
Have I ever been deceitful?
“You wouldn't get it” he is saying to Jacob (and to Israel) “there is nothing I could tell you in this moment that would make who I am any clearer to you. Know this: I have wrestled you, I have held onto you, I have surprised you, I have injured you, I have known you, I have renamed you and now I will bless you. That is who I am.”
We are no better than Jacob. We struggle with God and we want to know the details. We want God to be simple and self revelatory.
We want to understand God enough to get around the difficult requests.
You tell me who you are and then I can safely decide what our relationship will be.
Who Jesus is, who God is IN Jesus, becomes one of the overarching questions not only for the Gospel writers but also the gospel readers. For us.
This morning Jesus is reeling from the news that John the Baptist has been killed. He tries to get away but the crowds follow him. And he has compassion on them, and heals their sick. He serves them. He is moved by mercy. And spends the whole day with them, as he is mourning the loss of his friend, his cousin in faith, his baptizer.
In the evening the disciples come and tell him that the people he has been loving in the deserted place are hungry. This is the first we hear of the disciples in this story. did they just get there. Or have they been working alongside Jesus all day? Are they trying to take care of Jesus? Are they worried about Jesus and want to get hm some of the rest they probably are wanting for themselves?
They say the crowd should be sent away to get something to eat. You think he didn't know the hunger of these people that he interrupted his grief for, that he was healing, the people who broke his heart in their woundedness? do we really think he somehow missed their hunger?
Jesus says “don't send them away. you give them something to eat.” The disciples try to explain to him how little they have. Maybe enough for themselves, but barely, and Jesus wants them to try and feed all these people with their own dinner?
Yep.
Bring it to me he says. What ever little bit you were saving for yourself, bring it to me. Whatever you thought was barely adequate to get you through the day, bring it to me.
And they do.
Which I think may be the real miracle in this story.
Then he orders the crowd to sit down and he looks up to heaven blesses and breaks the bread and has his disciples feed the people. Now this should sound really familiar to any of you who have ever been to church before.
This is the Eucharist.
This is the miracle.
You see a miracle is not experienced standing on the sidelines with a disdainful attitude, and a clipboard. A miracle is experienced in the body from the point of view of the person being fed. From the point of view of the person doing the feeding. We are not changed or transformed or healed if we sit out here and try to figure out if “a miracle really happened” what will change us is if we let ourselves be fed, if we let Gods grace and generosity feed hungers in us that it will take miracles to satisfy. What will change us is if we take what little that we have and let Jesus bless it and see how far it will go.
This is the Eucharist and we preform this miracle ourselves week after week, we take the nothing that we have share it with each other and have basketfuls to take out into the world.
If you are bothered by all the starving places of the world, don't tell Jesus you have run out of love to offer, don’t tell Jesus you have run out of patience and compassion, don’t tell him you have nothing to give!
Jesus never worries about how little we bring to the table,
I'm sorry Jesus but I cannot forgive this person, I cannot face that person, Its just not ME, I cannot open myself up to this pain, I have nothing to offer here. That's ok, says Jesus , seemingly missing our well thought out arguments, bring it to me.
And we will feed them anyway.
We say: I am not that sort of person,
And he says: that's ok you are someone new.
We say: I don't have enough,
He says: bring it to me
he says to us: “I don’t care what gifts you think you do or don’t have, that is so deeply irrelevant to what I am up to.”
We say: all I have is this one little life, small and selfish, and hard.
He says:
that's ok I can bless you, and break you, and share you.
In the middle of those long hard wrestling nights, it takes everything we've got to hold onto some piece of God. When we experience unspeakable loss, when loneliness crushes the air from our lungs, when traumatic regret threatens to pull us under, hold on. Don't let go. We are not promised protection. These nights leave scars. These nights leave us limping. And the losses do not disappear when the sun rises.
But,
if we can just hold on, after wrestling all night, in the morning the angel will ask
who Are you?
Are you someone who will join in with this foolish work that will take everything you have and will take everything you do not have?
God isn't overly concerned with who we think we are or what we think we have to offer. We are simply being invited to share in the in-breaking of heaven on earth.
We are invited to bring whatever we have to the table, and let it be blessed and broken, and fed to the world. And there will be basketfuls left over.
Amen
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
knittin'
Preached at Saint David of Wales, May 29, 2011
Acts 17:22-31
Psalm 66:7-18
1 Peter 3:13-22
John 14:15-21
God, let us fall deeper and deeper in love with your son and with you-
Amen
I am not much of a knitter. I had a good run of baby hats when I was pregnant none of which Adin ever wore, and I have puled off a scarf or two, but I don’t seem to have the true gift of knitting. However I love to watch other people knit taking essentially a piece of string and two sticks and watching woven cloth that can keep people warm come out the other end.
I am not a part of the Village Building Convergence, but I have watched them over the the past two years as they take little more than a piece of string, two sticks and a whole lot of hope knit a village that brings people together.
I can so easily imagine Paul wandering through the VBC, as he wandered through Athens, speaking with People, being so deeply impressed with what they are doing here. I see how faithful you are, he would say to them. this entire gathering is an altar to an unknown god. You might call this god, community or place, neighborhood, justice, peace, but what you worship, I proclaim to you. this spirit which so obviously fills you, this same spirit of truth and Love is God who made the world. I have seen that same spirit of truth incarnate in the person Jesus. This spirit which you are clearly moved by as you build community and honor one another’s gifts, and in your reverence for creation this spirit of love has a name and that name changed everything for me.
Paul, I think if he were here, would be well able to defend the hope that is in him. I have always loved that line from Peter, Always be ready to defend the hope that is in you. Of all the things we have seen Christians defend in the public sphere, I don’t feel like I have seen enough defence of Hope. and it needs defending. what after all is more absurd than hope. look around you, read the paper, turn on the radio,
the last thing any sane well informed person should be feeling is hope. but here in this place right now we have the privilege of being surrounded by people who are living hope in a way that puts most Christian communities to shame.
Paul was willing to see and acknowledge the value of the spiritual experiences of the people of Athens, he quotes their own poets to them when he speaks of the God in whom they live and move and have their being. can we follow Paul's example this week and witness the spirit of truth and hope that fuels this work,
it is our same spirit of hope that we are called to defend.. yes we may have vastly different ways of speaking to that hope but if this place making is not the part of the kingdom of God they are working for I don't know what is.
When Jesus says he is not leaving us alone, that an advocate, that a comforter will be coming why do we assume so many things about what that comforter will be like. why do we assume that the advocate will be like us.
I will not leave you orphaned says Jesus. this passage today and the one from last week come from Jesus’ farewell in the gospel of John. in this reading he is preparing his disciples for his death and its implications. he is trying to get them ready to loose him.
we are hearing a pre-crucifixion speech after Easter and 2 weeks before Pentecost. Why? because in 2 weeks we are going to celebrate the coming of this advocate this comforter that Jesus is promising.
when we look around this place and see the spirit of hope that is alive in our building
Jesus tells us in the lyrical language of John that this is what the reality of the kingdom looks like. He explains the trinity perhaps as clearly as it can be
I am in my father and you in me and I in you.
those who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me.
this tangled web of language is as clear as an intricately knitted unity and Jesus is weaving us into it. we are being knit into the family of God and the only condition. is that we love. the commandant we must keep in order to be a part of this promise?
that we love,
that we love god that we love our neighbor
that we devote ourselves to love.
last week when Jesus said I am the way and no one gets to the father but through me he is not setting up a barrier but explaining the truth of love. I believe that Jesus is love incarnate. I believe that Jesus is love walking and there is no way to grasp the reality of God except through love. we cannot argue our way into it, we cant earn our way into it, we cant impress or flatter God into accepting us, the only way in is through love and some days that sounds impossible. If you keep my commandments Jesus says, if you give yourselves over to love then you will be knit into my family, I in you and you in me and we in the father and the father in us and the spirit knitting us all together
we are part of the love that is the foundation of reality
and I pray that that will give us more than enough hope worth defending.
Acts 17:22-31
Psalm 66:7-18
1 Peter 3:13-22
John 14:15-21
God, let us fall deeper and deeper in love with your son and with you-
Amen
I am not much of a knitter. I had a good run of baby hats when I was pregnant none of which Adin ever wore, and I have puled off a scarf or two, but I don’t seem to have the true gift of knitting. However I love to watch other people knit taking essentially a piece of string and two sticks and watching woven cloth that can keep people warm come out the other end.
I am not a part of the Village Building Convergence, but I have watched them over the the past two years as they take little more than a piece of string, two sticks and a whole lot of hope knit a village that brings people together.
I can so easily imagine Paul wandering through the VBC, as he wandered through Athens, speaking with People, being so deeply impressed with what they are doing here. I see how faithful you are, he would say to them. this entire gathering is an altar to an unknown god. You might call this god, community or place, neighborhood, justice, peace, but what you worship, I proclaim to you. this spirit which so obviously fills you, this same spirit of truth and Love is God who made the world. I have seen that same spirit of truth incarnate in the person Jesus. This spirit which you are clearly moved by as you build community and honor one another’s gifts, and in your reverence for creation this spirit of love has a name and that name changed everything for me.
Paul, I think if he were here, would be well able to defend the hope that is in him. I have always loved that line from Peter, Always be ready to defend the hope that is in you. Of all the things we have seen Christians defend in the public sphere, I don’t feel like I have seen enough defence of Hope. and it needs defending. what after all is more absurd than hope. look around you, read the paper, turn on the radio,
the last thing any sane well informed person should be feeling is hope. but here in this place right now we have the privilege of being surrounded by people who are living hope in a way that puts most Christian communities to shame.
Paul was willing to see and acknowledge the value of the spiritual experiences of the people of Athens, he quotes their own poets to them when he speaks of the God in whom they live and move and have their being. can we follow Paul's example this week and witness the spirit of truth and hope that fuels this work,
it is our same spirit of hope that we are called to defend.. yes we may have vastly different ways of speaking to that hope but if this place making is not the part of the kingdom of God they are working for I don't know what is.
When Jesus says he is not leaving us alone, that an advocate, that a comforter will be coming why do we assume so many things about what that comforter will be like. why do we assume that the advocate will be like us.
I will not leave you orphaned says Jesus. this passage today and the one from last week come from Jesus’ farewell in the gospel of John. in this reading he is preparing his disciples for his death and its implications. he is trying to get them ready to loose him.
we are hearing a pre-crucifixion speech after Easter and 2 weeks before Pentecost. Why? because in 2 weeks we are going to celebrate the coming of this advocate this comforter that Jesus is promising.
when we look around this place and see the spirit of hope that is alive in our building
Jesus tells us in the lyrical language of John that this is what the reality of the kingdom looks like. He explains the trinity perhaps as clearly as it can be
I am in my father and you in me and I in you.
those who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me.
this tangled web of language is as clear as an intricately knitted unity and Jesus is weaving us into it. we are being knit into the family of God and the only condition. is that we love. the commandant we must keep in order to be a part of this promise?
that we love,
that we love god that we love our neighbor
that we devote ourselves to love.
last week when Jesus said I am the way and no one gets to the father but through me he is not setting up a barrier but explaining the truth of love. I believe that Jesus is love incarnate. I believe that Jesus is love walking and there is no way to grasp the reality of God except through love. we cannot argue our way into it, we cant earn our way into it, we cant impress or flatter God into accepting us, the only way in is through love and some days that sounds impossible. If you keep my commandments Jesus says, if you give yourselves over to love then you will be knit into my family, I in you and you in me and we in the father and the father in us and the spirit knitting us all together
we are part of the love that is the foundation of reality
and I pray that that will give us more than enough hope worth defending.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Stories-
Good Friday Evening at St. David of Wales
April 22, 2011
I'm guessing most of you have seen the movie the Princess Bride, where the fantastic tale of Princess Buttercup and Wesley is told as a grandfather reads his sick grandson a story.
That is what holy week is like.
In the midst of our daily lives as eventful or uneventful as they may be we are invited to live a parallel story of the last days of Jesus on Earth.
When we accept that invitation we will lead multifaceted lives.
On Palm Sunday we walked out of our regular lives and through the gates of Jerusalem. On Maundy Thursday we washed the feet of the disciples with Jesus, then we stayed awake with him in the Garden as he begged to have this cup taken from him. We watched with horror as the authorities dragged him away and we may have even felt sympathy with Peter who was willing to raise a sword to defend the rabbi he loves. We stood at the foot of the cross this afternoon and listened as Jesus forgave those who had hurt him, blessed those who hung by him, and breathed his last.
And we are the grandfather and the grandson whose presence in this story feels out of lace. What do our mundane lives have to do with the passion and crucifixion of God incarnate?
here's what:
We are tellers of the story, We are hearers of the story, and as we tell it to each other year after year, it comes alive in and through us. The story of Jesus comes alive in the context of our lives.
Last night at 3am I left the Garden of Gethsemane and drove home and brushed my teeth.
After sitting at the foot of the cross this afternoon, I went and got a burrito on Division, and ate it in the sunshine of a glorious spring afternoon.
this Holy week I have taken Adin to school, made a dentist appointment, hosted a house-guest, and done laundry. Always the laundry.
... but also this week in all the spaces between there has been the vividly real journey with Jesus.
Holy Week can feel schizophrenic and in past years I have the incongruence as proof of my spiritual failings. But this year I have been too busy to even take the time to harass myself about how a "real Christian" would spend this week. And that has turned out to be a gift I want to share with all of you-
let this story seep into all the spaces of your days, let it color the life you are already living. Tomorrow be present in whatever way you can be and let the death of Jesus become the back story to your Saturday.
Even while you do the laundry.
Then when you come back here, whether it is tomorrow night or Sunday morning, we will have the best possible news for you.
News that if you let it become the story within a story of your life, will change everything.
April 22, 2011
I'm guessing most of you have seen the movie the Princess Bride, where the fantastic tale of Princess Buttercup and Wesley is told as a grandfather reads his sick grandson a story.
That is what holy week is like.
In the midst of our daily lives as eventful or uneventful as they may be we are invited to live a parallel story of the last days of Jesus on Earth.
When we accept that invitation we will lead multifaceted lives.
On Palm Sunday we walked out of our regular lives and through the gates of Jerusalem. On Maundy Thursday we washed the feet of the disciples with Jesus, then we stayed awake with him in the Garden as he begged to have this cup taken from him. We watched with horror as the authorities dragged him away and we may have even felt sympathy with Peter who was willing to raise a sword to defend the rabbi he loves. We stood at the foot of the cross this afternoon and listened as Jesus forgave those who had hurt him, blessed those who hung by him, and breathed his last.
And we are the grandfather and the grandson whose presence in this story feels out of lace. What do our mundane lives have to do with the passion and crucifixion of God incarnate?
here's what:
We are tellers of the story, We are hearers of the story, and as we tell it to each other year after year, it comes alive in and through us. The story of Jesus comes alive in the context of our lives.
Last night at 3am I left the Garden of Gethsemane and drove home and brushed my teeth.
After sitting at the foot of the cross this afternoon, I went and got a burrito on Division, and ate it in the sunshine of a glorious spring afternoon.
this Holy week I have taken Adin to school, made a dentist appointment, hosted a house-guest, and done laundry. Always the laundry.
... but also this week in all the spaces between there has been the vividly real journey with Jesus.
Holy Week can feel schizophrenic and in past years I have the incongruence as proof of my spiritual failings. But this year I have been too busy to even take the time to harass myself about how a "real Christian" would spend this week. And that has turned out to be a gift I want to share with all of you-
let this story seep into all the spaces of your days, let it color the life you are already living. Tomorrow be present in whatever way you can be and let the death of Jesus become the back story to your Saturday.
Even while you do the laundry.
Then when you come back here, whether it is tomorrow night or Sunday morning, we will have the best possible news for you.
News that if you let it become the story within a story of your life, will change everything.
It is Finished
Seven Last Words Service at St David of Wales
April 22, 2011
"It is Finished" john 19:30
40 days ago more or less we smeared ashes on our foreheads and decided to walk for a time with our mortality held gently in front of us.
we are people who will die
we are people who will return to dust.
and we hold our fragile little lives so carefully.
but for the past 40 days we have walking in the company of Jesus who does not guard his life at all, but instead pours out the human life that all of heaven and earth bent to witness. He is reckless and overly generous with this incarnation.
so today it is finished
everything Jesus came to do is finished.
we need to forget for a day if we can that he will open his eyes on the 3rd day and say
“it Begins”
we need to forget because in order to get to the beginning we must stay here at the end.
it is finished.
the Jesus that I am in love with met me, and I met him.
I met him on the road to Emmaus,
I met him on the road to Damascus,
I met him by the well,
I met him on the streets of Nashville,
I met him in the bread and
I met him in the wine,
this Jesus-
the one whose laugh created the universe-
the one who breathes peace into a wounded world,
the one who walks with us now
walked the earth in a body just like ours,
and that body shifted beneath his mother’s ribcage in the night,
and that body ran in the sunlight as a boy
and that body morphed into a man as community watched
and that body touched the sick
held the children
washed the feet
broke the bread
drank the wine
and then died.
he died.
it is finished.
April 22, 2011
"It is Finished" john 19:30
40 days ago more or less we smeared ashes on our foreheads and decided to walk for a time with our mortality held gently in front of us.
we are people who will die
we are people who will return to dust.
and we hold our fragile little lives so carefully.
but for the past 40 days we have walking in the company of Jesus who does not guard his life at all, but instead pours out the human life that all of heaven and earth bent to witness. He is reckless and overly generous with this incarnation.
so today it is finished
everything Jesus came to do is finished.
we need to forget for a day if we can that he will open his eyes on the 3rd day and say
“it Begins”
we need to forget because in order to get to the beginning we must stay here at the end.
it is finished.
the Jesus that I am in love with met me, and I met him.
I met him on the road to Emmaus,
I met him on the road to Damascus,
I met him by the well,
I met him on the streets of Nashville,
I met him in the bread and
I met him in the wine,
this Jesus-
the one whose laugh created the universe-
the one who breathes peace into a wounded world,
the one who walks with us now
walked the earth in a body just like ours,
and that body shifted beneath his mother’s ribcage in the night,
and that body ran in the sunlight as a boy
and that body morphed into a man as community watched
and that body touched the sick
held the children
washed the feet
broke the bread
drank the wine
and then died.
he died.
it is finished.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Thirsty
Exodus 17:1-7
Romans 5:1-11
John 4:5-42
Psalm 95
Dear God,
Give us the courage to ask you for the water that springs from the rock of our salvation, your beloved and our hope, Jesus.
Amen
One of my most cherished possessions is a picture I found one day at the goodwill bins under broken vacuum cleaners and shattered Christmas decorations. It cost $1.14, weighing somewhat less than a pound. It is a small framed picture of a shih-tzu, in a garden of yellow flowers with a bow on his head. The caption reads: ALWAYS BE READY TO MEET JESUS.
If someday I am a person with all of her belongings in a shopping cart, this will be one of them.
I have spent more time than I should be willing to admit in public meditating on this image.
In the south the phase “being ready to meet Jesus” suggests impending death, such signs are posted at dangerous curves in the road, or alongside steep drop-offs. So sometimes, I imagine that this picture means that nothing is safe in this world and that even small dogs with bows in their hair could be the end of us. Am I ready to die and meet Jesus?
Other times I think the picture means that God comes to us in so many surprising ways that I should never stop seeking the face of the Holy in everyone I meet. Even silky-coated cat-sized dogs can be glimpses of God. We just never know when we are going to meet Jesus.
The woman going to the well in the noonday sun didn’t know any of these clichés. She was just going to get some water.
Every day she comes to this well. Every day she fills her water jug and goes home, and every day she wakes up thirsty, and goes to bed thirsty. The longings in her heart are so deep a thirst that she barely notices anymore.
She is terrified of being alone, and yet at least five of the men she has loved have left her. She has tried to quench her thirst in the arms of love or at least companionship.
Doesn’t she know that the dry places in her heart can’t be watered that way?
Do we know that?
Are we not the same as the woman at the well?
Some of us seek to quench our thirst with the waters of information, knowing things others do not know. I have a friend who compulsively watches the news, she is terrified of not knowing what is going on in the world, as if the knowing will keep her safe.
Some of us seek to quench our thirst with the waters of respect. If we can just do everything right, then people will admire us and that dry painful scratch at the back of our dusty throats will be soothed.
Some try to extinguish the dehydration of the soul with literal drink, others in pills or food.
Some seek the waters of pleasure to anesthetize the thirst that keeps us awake at night.
But we are all thirsty.
Thousands of years before a nameless woman goes to the well in the hot noonday sun, the people of Israel were on their way to the promised land from the not-at-all loaded place named the “desert of sin.” Moses had led the people to a place to camp that had no water.
The people were thirsty, their children were thirsty, their animals were thirsty. The people were scared and wondered what would become of them. They begged Moses for water. so Moses, feeling completely overwhelmed by his responsibility turned and complained to God. What should I do? he asked. They want water. I am so tired Lord, how do I give them water?
Then with a smile God said- “follow me, and bring that trusty staff of yours.”
So, God led Moses to a rock and striking it as God told him to do, cool refreshing water streamed out.
Water to satisfy the thirst of parched, scared people.
Thousands of years go by, and one day Jesus is traveling with his friends, and he is tired and he is thirsty. So he stops by a well to rest as the noon sun beats down while they go shopping for food. He is sitting there, when this thirsty woman comes by. Jesus says to her “The water that I will give will become in you a spring of water gushing up to eternal life, you are known by the God who loves you. I see who you are and I love you."
We are a thirsty people. We are a parched and scared people.
Here is the promise: If we drink from the well of being seen and known by the God who loves us, if we sip that living water, we will loose our thirst for the wells of this world. If we can truly taste what love feels like slipping down our dry throats, the wells we have been haunting our whole lives will seem stale, and bitter.
Jesus says “if you knew who I was you could not come so close to me without asking for this.”
So here we are, this close to Jesus.
Are we going to ask him?
Or are we satisfied with the old stagnant water we have been drinking all these years? The waters of money and position, or power and pride, the waters of comfort and complacency.
Or would we like a tall cool glass of love and transparency.
Are we willing to be known?
really known?
are we willing to be loved like that?
Are we willing to reach out to the rock of our salvation and beat on it with the staff of faith and drink the refreshing water of being known? Of being loved?
Can we say “give it to me so I will never have to come back to this well of shame again"
But all our longings will not be quenched by a drink of this living water, it will awaken new longings. We will thirst more and more deeply from that moment on, for justice and truth and love.
A drink of this water will ruin us for all other wells. We will never again be satisfied by half truths, and easy answers. We will not be content with being admired and not known, with being informed and not transformed, with being in positions of power and not compassion.
Once we taste living water we will thirst for it for the rest of our lives.
As Jesus turned the water at the wedding into wine, he turns the living water of himself into the common cup of our life together. The living water of the gospel becomes the rich wine of common life.
Would you drink if you were invited?
you are invited.
If you want to know who this Jesus is, if you are ready to meet Jesus, the tired and thirsty rabbi with eyes like love,
then this is the cup of salvation.
come take a sip-
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Dust
Preached at Saint David of Wales March 9, 2011
Joel 2:1-2,12-17
Psalm 103
2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10
Matthew 6:1-6,16-21
Remember--
You are dust and to dust you shall return.
That is the good news we all came to church today to hear.
With last nights pancakes sitting still heavy in our guts, we came here today to remember that we are dust.
Here we are at Ash Wednesday at the brink of Lent with our toes on the long dusty road to the Cross. We are being invited to walk with Jesus all the way to Jerusalem, and that is hard, because Jerusalem is death, but we are here as a community because we believe the awesome truth that on the other side of that death is a whole new kind of life.
but the only way to get to that life is to go to the foot of the cross, where we will show the world what we are really made of-
Dust
On this Lenten walk with Jesus to Jerusalem we have the chance to come closer to God, to, to try and wrap our minds around the crucifixion and the resurrection. Lent is not an invitation to self improvement, but to intimacy with our creator, the one who loved us into being, who breathed life into the dust of this world and made it holy and awake, living and breathing.
without the breath of God we are only dust.
We are people of dust building houses of dust, working for dust, accumulating dust, eating dust, drinking dust, and pretending its all real.
This life is like a giant monopoly game and no matter how much we accumulate, at the end its all going back in the box and we will be left with nothing but the treasure of love.
Lent is the time to be reconciled to God, if there is anything keeping us from a full and deep relationship with God this is the time to put those things aside. Stop playing the game for six weeks and fall more in love with God who makes all of this dust worth loving.
We are here to receive a public and visible mark on our foreheads and hear the Gospel message :Don’t make a performance of being good, don’t practice our piety before others.
So what do we do about these ashes on our foreheads?
If you are proud that you came here today, if you think anyone is going to be impressed, go wash your forehead as soon as the service is over. Don’t worry it still counts. Consider yourself reminded and move on. If you want to make sure that people know you have fulfilled your religious duty- go wash your face.
On the other hand if you are kind of embarrassed by the thought of going out in the world with a weird dirt smudge on your face, leave it. A little humility will do you good. Its okay, not being clean won’t kill you. Your friends might ask and this is a great chance to tell the truth.
“I am part of a completely mad little community of people who once a year smear ashes on their foreheads and remember that nothing here that we are working for will last and that all our human efforts are in the big picture, dust.”
In the collect we ask for the remission of sins, we aren’t fully cured but we can be in remission.
These ashes take us back to the truth that we are not and never will be perfectly sinless, that there are marks and smudges on us that we ignore all the time.
Its okay to say we are sorry. to the world, to our family, to God.
For too many people repentance is insulting.
Don’t in any way indicate that I’m not perfect, because this edifice of dust that I have constructed is so fragile, that being ok is all that is holding me together.
If we Rest in the love of God and we can realize that nothing we can do can pull us out of God’s love, and like stepping out into the bright sun after years inside we may see things in ourselves that need tending. It doesn’t make us awful people, just people who need to wash our faces.
We need to wash our hearts, clean off our intentions, and give our courage a good scrubbing.
So this one day we can go out with faces to match our insides. We can go out in the world looking like the imperfect people we are, with dirt on our faces.
Joel 2:1-2,12-17
Psalm 103
2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10
Matthew 6:1-6,16-21
Remember--
You are dust and to dust you shall return.
That is the good news we all came to church today to hear.
With last nights pancakes sitting still heavy in our guts, we came here today to remember that we are dust.
Here we are at Ash Wednesday at the brink of Lent with our toes on the long dusty road to the Cross. We are being invited to walk with Jesus all the way to Jerusalem, and that is hard, because Jerusalem is death, but we are here as a community because we believe the awesome truth that on the other side of that death is a whole new kind of life.
but the only way to get to that life is to go to the foot of the cross, where we will show the world what we are really made of-
Dust
On this Lenten walk with Jesus to Jerusalem we have the chance to come closer to God, to, to try and wrap our minds around the crucifixion and the resurrection. Lent is not an invitation to self improvement, but to intimacy with our creator, the one who loved us into being, who breathed life into the dust of this world and made it holy and awake, living and breathing.
without the breath of God we are only dust.
We are people of dust building houses of dust, working for dust, accumulating dust, eating dust, drinking dust, and pretending its all real.
This life is like a giant monopoly game and no matter how much we accumulate, at the end its all going back in the box and we will be left with nothing but the treasure of love.
Lent is the time to be reconciled to God, if there is anything keeping us from a full and deep relationship with God this is the time to put those things aside. Stop playing the game for six weeks and fall more in love with God who makes all of this dust worth loving.
We are here to receive a public and visible mark on our foreheads and hear the Gospel message :Don’t make a performance of being good, don’t practice our piety before others.
So what do we do about these ashes on our foreheads?
If you are proud that you came here today, if you think anyone is going to be impressed, go wash your forehead as soon as the service is over. Don’t worry it still counts. Consider yourself reminded and move on. If you want to make sure that people know you have fulfilled your religious duty- go wash your face.
On the other hand if you are kind of embarrassed by the thought of going out in the world with a weird dirt smudge on your face, leave it. A little humility will do you good. Its okay, not being clean won’t kill you. Your friends might ask and this is a great chance to tell the truth.
“I am part of a completely mad little community of people who once a year smear ashes on their foreheads and remember that nothing here that we are working for will last and that all our human efforts are in the big picture, dust.”
In the collect we ask for the remission of sins, we aren’t fully cured but we can be in remission.
These ashes take us back to the truth that we are not and never will be perfectly sinless, that there are marks and smudges on us that we ignore all the time.
Its okay to say we are sorry. to the world, to our family, to God.
For too many people repentance is insulting.
Don’t in any way indicate that I’m not perfect, because this edifice of dust that I have constructed is so fragile, that being ok is all that is holding me together.
If we Rest in the love of God and we can realize that nothing we can do can pull us out of God’s love, and like stepping out into the bright sun after years inside we may see things in ourselves that need tending. It doesn’t make us awful people, just people who need to wash our faces.
We need to wash our hearts, clean off our intentions, and give our courage a good scrubbing.
So this one day we can go out with faces to match our insides. We can go out in the world looking like the imperfect people we are, with dirt on our faces.
don't worry
Epiphany 8A 2011
preached February 27, 2011 at Saint David of Wales
Isaiah 49:8-16a
1 Corinthians 4:1-5
Matthew 6:24-34
Psalm 131
Dear God,
Give us the courage to fear nothing but the loss of you, so that no clouds of worry hide the light of your Love.
Amen
Jesus says: Don’t serve two masters then he starts talking about worry.
At first, it seems like Jesus is changing the subject. Does Jesus want us to be total slackers who never do anything? If we didn’t worry about what we were going to eat and what we were going to wear, we would end up naked and hungry in no time.
Doesn’t Jesus know how complicated our lives are?
How can we not worry?
However we are a fractured people suffering from spiritual ADD and we cannot keep our minds off our worries long enough to experience the goodness of the God who has written us on the palms of his hands.
The word that is translated this morning as worry for us means division, He is saying: don’t be divided.
Jesus hasn’t changed the subject at all. Worrying IS serving two masters. Worry keeps you continually focused on ourselves, on our “own” family and our own future.
We need to learn how not to let ourselves be divided between the things of this world and the work of God who has written us on the palms of her hands.
Jesus has been telling us over and over in the Sermon on the Mount this epiphany about the kingdom of God we should place our undivided attention on.
We cannot be joyful and anxious at the same time, we cannot serve God and the money, to try is to be divided, to try is to worry.
If we seek first the kingdom of God there will be no room in our hearts for worry.
God calls us to unity, wholeness and singleness of heart.
Now Jesus accepted hospitality in the homes of plenty of folks who did whatever the 1st century equivalent was of paying all their bills on time.
This is not a call to stop doing today’s works, but to trust that God sends the money that we earn. So we do not think we alone are responsible for our good fortune? If we have health and education and skill, where did they come from?, if we had a good childhood and a family where did that come from?, if today we have friends and a partner, children or pets, did we make those? (Well maybe the kids but you know what I mean.)We are quick to take credit for the good in our lives and blame God for any misfortune, the God who tells us: I will never forget you. I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands. while the psalmists’ soul is still like a child upon her mother’s breast, resting in the peace of God.
What could be important enough or compelling enough to pull us away from a God who writes us on the palms of her hands.
Here are Jesus’ priorities-
Loving enemies going the second mile, turning the other cheek, not calling anyone a fool, not objectifying women, and continually remembering how incredibly blessed the poor and broken and weak are to God.
Don’t worry about what we will eat, worry about the children with out enough are going to eat, don’t worry about what we will wear. Worry about our neighbor who has no coat. This is kingdom living. Today has enough problems for itself. We can take care of ourselves and take care of our neighbors today. But if we are hoarding food for tomorrow while our neighbor’s child starves, we have abandoned God, and serve only worry.
Worry says: Not like those people Lord please. Keep me from being like those people, but Jesus knows we are those people. That’s what we are worried about, keep me from falling into misfortune.
God says: you are inscribed on the palms of my hands.
We are being invited out of a life of self-sufficiency.
What if you lost everything tomorrow?
All of it gone.
Can you imagine a place where that does not panic you?
That is the place Jesus is inviting us to.
What if you woke up tomorrow with everything you have worked so hard for taken away.
Would you feel that you had lost everything, or could you say, “all that I had was a gift from God. Now I will see what else God provides.”?
When we worry about our possessions and our appearance we claim them for ourselves and we give ourselves the credit for God’s graciousness.
Everything we see is a gift, everything we are able to do is a gift, everything we have is a gift, and when we start hoarding the gifts we have been given and paying more attention to them than to the giver, we are divided.
Nothing we have is ours, Jesus says.
I think he means what he says.
Don’t worry
This is exactly what we are being invited into and I would rather we told the truth about it and said no sorry, I cant do that, than try to pretend that is not what Jesus is saying.
We are being called to trust deeply and too much. We are called to be dependent on God for everything. The only easy part is we already are, we just need to try and catch up our beliefs with the reality of a God who writes us on the palms of her hands.
This is not a promise that nothing bad will ever happen to us.
Sometimes the birds of the air do starve to death, the grass is thrown into the fire but still they sing and swoop and bloom.
Faithful people go hungry while we store up for tomorrow enough to solve today’s trouble.
So, concern yourself with what your neighbor can wear today if he is naked
And concern yourself with what your neighbor can eat today if she is hungry
We can act, we can pray, we can sing, we can work, we can cook, we can bless, we just can’t worry.
We can love all those around us friend and enemy alike with a deep singleness of heart. We can be fully present to God’s work in the world, watch the birds and the lilies, and do whatever work God sends our way.
This will take all our time if we do it well.
Then tomorrow we can wake up and do it again,
wherever we live,
whatever we eat,
whatever we wear-
seeking first the kingdom of the one who has inscribed us on his hands.
preached February 27, 2011 at Saint David of Wales
Isaiah 49:8-16a
1 Corinthians 4:1-5
Matthew 6:24-34
Psalm 131
Dear God,
Give us the courage to fear nothing but the loss of you, so that no clouds of worry hide the light of your Love.
Amen
Jesus says: Don’t serve two masters then he starts talking about worry.
At first, it seems like Jesus is changing the subject. Does Jesus want us to be total slackers who never do anything? If we didn’t worry about what we were going to eat and what we were going to wear, we would end up naked and hungry in no time.
Doesn’t Jesus know how complicated our lives are?
How can we not worry?
However we are a fractured people suffering from spiritual ADD and we cannot keep our minds off our worries long enough to experience the goodness of the God who has written us on the palms of his hands.
The word that is translated this morning as worry for us means division, He is saying: don’t be divided.
Jesus hasn’t changed the subject at all. Worrying IS serving two masters. Worry keeps you continually focused on ourselves, on our “own” family and our own future.
We need to learn how not to let ourselves be divided between the things of this world and the work of God who has written us on the palms of her hands.
Jesus has been telling us over and over in the Sermon on the Mount this epiphany about the kingdom of God we should place our undivided attention on.
We cannot be joyful and anxious at the same time, we cannot serve God and the money, to try is to be divided, to try is to worry.
If we seek first the kingdom of God there will be no room in our hearts for worry.
God calls us to unity, wholeness and singleness of heart.
Now Jesus accepted hospitality in the homes of plenty of folks who did whatever the 1st century equivalent was of paying all their bills on time.
This is not a call to stop doing today’s works, but to trust that God sends the money that we earn. So we do not think we alone are responsible for our good fortune? If we have health and education and skill, where did they come from?, if we had a good childhood and a family where did that come from?, if today we have friends and a partner, children or pets, did we make those? (Well maybe the kids but you know what I mean.)We are quick to take credit for the good in our lives and blame God for any misfortune, the God who tells us: I will never forget you. I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands. while the psalmists’ soul is still like a child upon her mother’s breast, resting in the peace of God.
What could be important enough or compelling enough to pull us away from a God who writes us on the palms of her hands.
Here are Jesus’ priorities-
Loving enemies going the second mile, turning the other cheek, not calling anyone a fool, not objectifying women, and continually remembering how incredibly blessed the poor and broken and weak are to God.
Don’t worry about what we will eat, worry about the children with out enough are going to eat, don’t worry about what we will wear. Worry about our neighbor who has no coat. This is kingdom living. Today has enough problems for itself. We can take care of ourselves and take care of our neighbors today. But if we are hoarding food for tomorrow while our neighbor’s child starves, we have abandoned God, and serve only worry.
Worry says: Not like those people Lord please. Keep me from being like those people, but Jesus knows we are those people. That’s what we are worried about, keep me from falling into misfortune.
God says: you are inscribed on the palms of my hands.
We are being invited out of a life of self-sufficiency.
What if you lost everything tomorrow?
All of it gone.
Can you imagine a place where that does not panic you?
That is the place Jesus is inviting us to.
What if you woke up tomorrow with everything you have worked so hard for taken away.
Would you feel that you had lost everything, or could you say, “all that I had was a gift from God. Now I will see what else God provides.”?
When we worry about our possessions and our appearance we claim them for ourselves and we give ourselves the credit for God’s graciousness.
Everything we see is a gift, everything we are able to do is a gift, everything we have is a gift, and when we start hoarding the gifts we have been given and paying more attention to them than to the giver, we are divided.
Nothing we have is ours, Jesus says.
I think he means what he says.
Don’t worry
This is exactly what we are being invited into and I would rather we told the truth about it and said no sorry, I cant do that, than try to pretend that is not what Jesus is saying.
We are being called to trust deeply and too much. We are called to be dependent on God for everything. The only easy part is we already are, we just need to try and catch up our beliefs with the reality of a God who writes us on the palms of her hands.
This is not a promise that nothing bad will ever happen to us.
Sometimes the birds of the air do starve to death, the grass is thrown into the fire but still they sing and swoop and bloom.
Faithful people go hungry while we store up for tomorrow enough to solve today’s trouble.
So, concern yourself with what your neighbor can wear today if he is naked
And concern yourself with what your neighbor can eat today if she is hungry
We can act, we can pray, we can sing, we can work, we can cook, we can bless, we just can’t worry.
We can love all those around us friend and enemy alike with a deep singleness of heart. We can be fully present to God’s work in the world, watch the birds and the lilies, and do whatever work God sends our way.
This will take all our time if we do it well.
Then tomorrow we can wake up and do it again,
wherever we live,
whatever we eat,
whatever we wear-
seeking first the kingdom of the one who has inscribed us on his hands.
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