The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost - August 12, 2012

Channeling Christ
Ephesians 4:25 - 5:2

I’ve watched at least my share of the Olympics over the last two weeks. In the Olympics we see a truly glorious display and celebration of human achievement. We watch acts of almost unbelievable grace and strength and skill. Records fall. Often we see graciousness and nobility, human beings at their best. (Sometimes not so much maybe in the graciousness department.) The Olympics really are a testament to the best that human beings can be.

Particularly in the midst of so much wondrous human achievement, we all need to be reminded of our need for God. It really is easy to forget. Even for those of us who are a very long way from any participation in the Olympic games, it is easy to forget how little and how helpless we are on our own. Without God.

In today’s collect we pray: Grant to us, Lord, we pray, the spirit to think and do always those things that are right. Did that prayer catch your attention as it whizzed past in this morning’s liturgy? We pray to always (always!) think what is right.

 The secular, godless world can be a moral world. There are many good people in it. People who may not profess faith in God, but who nonetheless strive to do what is right. But to think what is right! I’ll be the first to admit that I only very limited control over my own thoughts. I’m not a trained psychologist or therapist, but like most clergy, I have sort of a peripheral connection to the therapeutic world. It’s my understanding that one of the basic tenets of psychotherapy is that thoughts and feelings just are. They appear within us unbidden, beyond our control. Thoughts and feelings are not “morally” good or bad, they just are. We are encouraged to face them, own them. And then, people who strive to be morally good try to learn how to act upon their thoughts and feelings in ways that are “good” or appropriate. For example, no matter what you may be thinking or feeling about your sports opponent, or the referee in your match, you can choose to act with sportsmanship or nobility. That is what the psychologically mature and moral person does. He or she tries to do what is right.

Yes, but. What about the Christian? We are called also to think what is right. That takes more than moral conviction and a good therapist. It takes God.

This week’s epistle reading from Ephesians is full of moral advice. Paul is giving moral advice to the relatively new Christians in Ephesus. It prompts us to ask: What is Christian moral living? What are Christian ethics?

I read a commentary on this passage by a Lutheran scholar, Mark Tranvik.  (Read the whole piece here.) He writes:

Our passage contains a lot of moral advice that can be found in many places in the ancient world.

In that sense, there is nothing "original" in this text. However, the wealth of moral instruction does not mean the Bible is simply "moralizing" its readers. The key difference lay in the motivation for the morality. Most commentators agree that Paul's framework for his ethical instruction is baptism.

Interwoven throughout the letter to the Ephesians are many references to death and life (2:1, 5), putting away the old self (4:22, 25) and being marked with the seal of the Holy Spirit (1:13, 4:30). In other words, instead of simply being exhorted to do good works, the community is continually reminded that it has been engrafted into the body of Christ and that its hope is grounded in Christ's present and future redemption. The result is a life lived in love, rooted and grounded in the love of Christ (5:2). 

So Paul is talking about more than just doing what is good. Christians have been transformed by Christ, and look for that redeeming transformation to continue. I love his phrase “engrafted into the Body of Christ.” When a tree is grafted, the two parts share the same sap, the same roots, the same life. They become literally inseparable. Through baptism we are engrafted into the Body of Christ.

I can think of at least two implications of this. One is that we are given the potential to “channel” Christ. I’ll come back to that. Second, we have been made part of something bigger than just ourselves.

We are part of something bigger than ourselves. As Paul says, we “are members one of another.” For example: In Ephesians, Paul says thieves must give up stealing. Well, duh. Everybody knows it’s morally wrong to steal. To take something that is not yours by rights, that you did not earn. To take something that belongs to someone else is morally wrong. No question. But here’s the interesting thing. The prohibition against stealing in Ephesians is not to ensure that each person may retain and possess what is rightfully theirs. The point of honest work is to provide for those who are in need.

To be engrafted in Christ through baptism means being literally responsible for others.

To be engrafted in Christ also means having the potential to channel Christ. You know what people mean when “channel” is used as a verb. It often has paranormal connotations. The dictionary definition is “to serve as a medium for a spirit.” To be the medium through which a spirit acts, is known, is heard, is felt. That’s really not bad theologically. For Christians this is not something we conjure up in a séance, it comes through the communion we have been given in Christ. In a sense we really can channel the saints. As we share life in Christ, we can tap into their faith and witness. And, as engrafted members of the Body of Christ, we can also, at least in part channel Christ.

Today’s passage from Ephesians concludes with familiar words we hear each week. “Walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself for us, an offering and sacrifice to God.”

Or, as we actually heard it from Ephesians: “Be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”

 Be imitators of God. A bit more from Tranvik’s commentary:

This section concludes with the ultimate exhortation: be imitators of God (5:1)! Here is where there is a true break with the typical virtue-vice lists of the ancient world. A standard has now been set that transcends all human morality….

Our culture's interpretation of love might be said to be at war with the biblical understanding of agape. Commercials and conventional usage suggest that love is largely a romantic feeling produced by the right combination of clothes, physical conditioning, smile and make-up. In other words, love is dependent upon being lovable.

This is the exact opposite of agape love which reaches out and extends itself to the most unlovable. As Martin Luther once said, it is characteristic of God's love that it does not find its object but it creates it. The point may seem subtle but Luther is saying we cannot make ourselves worthy of God, though we often try to do this. Rather, our relationship to God is based on nothing other than God's decision to love us in Christ. Or as Paul stresses, agape is rooted in Christ's act of giving himself for us (5:2). 

In the secular world, love is dependent upon someone or something being lovable. Love is generated because an object is lovable. God’s agape love begins with the one who loves. Love is generated in God’s desire to love.

Much has been made of the success of American women in these Olympics. And one phrase I’ve heard is “strong is the new beautiful.” Part of me wants to cheer and say, about time. But this is still the secular culture’s way of looking at things, of saying that attractiveness or value is all dependent upon the object of our attraction.

Tranvik concludes:

Paul highlights the effects of this love as well. We now inherit the status of "beloved children" (5:1). Our task then is to take this love to the neighbor or "live in love" (5:2) as Paul says. Perfect imitation of this love is not possible. God's word of forgiveness will always be relevant (4:32). But the love of Christ dwells in our hearts as well (3:17).

Be imitators of God. Channel Christ. Agape your neighbor in the same way that Christ agape’s you.

Agape your neighbor. Not because he or she is lovable. Not because he or she is beautiful or strong or right or noble. Agape your neighbor because God has chosen to love them. And we can and should channel God’s agape love.

We can’t do it without God’s help. We can’t do it without being engrafted into the Body of Christ. And, of course, we can never fully be God in the world. Humility and the never ending yearning for reconciliation, renewal and guidance are also a part of being engrafted into the Body of Christ.

In the collect we pray: “Grant us the spirit to think and do always those things that are right.” It’s actually the spirit that we pray for. Grant us the spirit. Grant us Christ’s spirit. Grant us Christ’s spirit within us. Help us to surrender to that spirit. So that we may be mediums for the Spirit of Christ to speak, and think, and act in the world.

Channeling Christ’s agape love. That’s Christian ethics.

The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

Truth Hearers
2 Samuel 11:26 - 12:13a

David and Bathsheba. It’s a well-known story. We heard the first part last week, and this week’s passage doesn’t really make sense unless you know the beginning of the story.

David sees Bathsheba and desires her. But she is the wife of Uriah the Hittite. Nonetheless, David demands that she be brought to him. The outcome being that she becomes “with child.” David tries to bring Bathsheba and Uriah together so that it would be at least plausible for people to believe that the child is Uriah’s. But these machinations fail because Uriah is true to the moral code of the time which prohibited consecrated soldiers from engaging in any sexual activity.

So David has to resort to plan B, which involves having Uriah sent into the heat of battle and then abandoned by the other soldiers so that he is killed by the enemy.

Then we come to today’s reading, what we might call the gotcha part of the story. Nathan, the prophet, shines a light on all that David has done and brings David to a recognition of his own sin.

This story is a bit of a hot button one for me, and probably for many who work in the church. At first reading it highlights the value of Nathan, the truth teller. Nathan is the hero, the courageous prophet who exposes the sin of the king. Nathan is celebrated as the admirable character in the story.

Yes, but.

I’ve seen a lot of damage done by people who thought they were called to be Nathans. Damage within parishes, within families, within other groups. Damage done by people who felt they had a truth that God called them to share or impose on others. Sometimes, drawing upon the words in today’s reading from Ephesians, they think of themselves as “speaking the truth in love.” But the result does not “build up the body.” Rather it is divisive or hurtful. Maybe the truth they claim is not really God’s truth. Maybe their motives are not God’s motives. It’s a very tricky business being Nathan. To anyone who feels drawn to emulate Nathan, the truth teller, I offer caution, not encouragement.

Don’t get me wrong. The church and the world need truth tellers. We need courageous prophets to help us see things we cannot see on our own. And I believe God sends us those prophetic truth tellers. But if you really think it’s your job to be Nathan, please think twice.

The thing is, although Nathan may at first glance appear to be the hero of this story, the story is really about David. And in David there is a role model for all of us. Maybe not the lusting after Bathsheba part. Although, as the Bible tells this story it is not really about sexual sin. Beware of trying to draw instruction on sexual ethics from this story. (Remember, part of the Lord’s judgment against David is to take David’s wives, plural, and give them to David’s neighbors.) David’s sin is an abuse of power. He says, “I have a right to what I want. I have a right to claim what I desire.”

That’s a pretty common sin. Just as common now among the powerful as it might have been then.

But David is a figure to be admired and emulated. David, the truth hearer, is an inspiration to us. David, the truth hearer, can be a role model for us.

 David had a general openness to the idea that God’s story involved him. He was open to the understanding that he, as an individual, as a particular person named David, was of concern to God. Nathan said to him, “You are the man.” But David said, yes, I am the man. Yes, I have sinned before God. But God cares enough about me to send Nathan to me. Nathan doesn’t just go up on some mountain top and rage against the general sins of power, he comes to David, and tells a story that speaks directly to David’s life. And David hears God’s voice speaking directly to him.

The word of God’s truth spoken directly to David. And David hears God’s truth as his own. Like David we should work on being truth hearers. We need to listen to lots of voices around us. And listen with the posture that God may actually be speaking directly to us, to any one of us, as a particular individual. You, individually, are of concern to God and have a specific part in God’s story. Listen for your own word of truth from God.

 This is not just a reminder just for the powerful. It is also for the timid. God speaks to you. For the tired. Pay attention, God speaks to you. For the skeptical. Yes, God speaks directly to you.

God’s word of truth may not always be a word of judgment. It is often a word of encouragement or hope. Spoken directly to you in a time of darkness or need. Or maybe it is a word of judgment, a call to repentance, for some specific sin that burdens your life. Or maybe it is a call to action. Whatever your particular situation it’s your word, your truth. Given by God to you. It could be almost anyone, anywhere who speaks it. The important thing is to be open, receptive to the possibility that God has a particular word, a particular truth for you.

This is a story about one particular individual named David. This story is about one of the days that God talked directly to David. And David listened and heard God’s truth for him.

 Like David, let us be people who listen and hear God’s truth spoken in our own lives.

Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

Generosity
2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27
2 Corinthians 8:7-15

I gave some consideration to talking about the Old Testament reading today. Discussing the relationship between David and Jonathon. Speaking about Jonathan, noble King David says: “Greatly beloved were you to me; your love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women…”

But instead of preaching on human sexuality I decided to preach on something really difficult—money. And money (unlike human sexuality) is something the Bible actually mentions frequently, forcefully and clearly.

The epistle reading appointed for today from 2 Corinthians is all about money. And Paul has some powerful things to say.

A little background is helpful to understand this passage.

Chapters 8 and 9 in the Second Letter to the Corinthians are a direct appeal for financial contributions. This is often called “the appeal for Jerusalem.” Paul is appealing to the Christians in Corinth to give money to the Christians in Jerusalem. At the time Corinth was a bustling port town of merchants and tradespeople. At least compared to the poverty in Jerusalem, the Corinthians had material abundance.

The Corinthian church was founded by Paul. These new Christians had received the Gospel from Paul. They were Greeks and Gentiles. Remember, this is still the first decade or so of the Christian movement. The Christian community in Jerusalem grew out of the kernel of Jesus’ own disciples. They were Jews.

Why was Paul so committed to this particular relief effort? Especially looking at it from the perspective of those of us who know the challenges of fund raising, why would Paul put so much energy into this? One commentator speculates on Paul’s motives (Ernest Best, Interpretation Commentary).

Paul had been to Jerusalem. He had certainly seen the need first hand. But his own missionary work was elsewhere. Perhaps he saw this as an opportunity to express unity within the early Christian movement. The first really big struggle within the church was over whether or not to include those Gentiles. And if it were possible for Gentiles to become Christians, under what circumstances? For the Gentile Christians to assist the church in Jerusalem might help heal the strain.

Also, perhaps it could solidify the standing or legitimacy of Paul himself and the Gentile movement in the eyes of the Jerusalem church.

Paul mentions none of these motives in the text. At least one more possible motivation will emerge as we explore the text.

Interestingly, even the need is not played up by Paul. The poverty was evidently real and dire and Paul had seen it. But he does not highlight the need as a fund raising tool. How different is that from most current fund raising efforts! There are no pictures of starving children in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians. No four page letter with fake handwritten script in the margin about how your $20 gift can help this hollow-eyed girl get a meal or go to school or receive vaccinations.

Writing to the Corinthians, first Paul commends their faithfulness. You excel at faithfulness! And then he points out that generosity is a quality of faithfulness, and encourages them to excel at generosity as well. Generosity, not giving. Generosity, it seems to me, is more about attitude than amount.

Paul reminds these new Christians that Jesus’ coming was a profound act of divine generosity. Jesus generously gave up the riches of heaven to come to earth, so that we might gain the riches of heaven. He became poor so that we might become rich.

Paul is clear that he is not asking the Corinthians to give what they do not have. Give out of what you do have, he says. This should not be a difficult struggle for you. It is a question of fair balance. Fair balance between your present abundance and their need.

The quote that Paul cites at the end of today’s reading is from Exodus. “The one who had much did not have too much, and the one who had little did not have too little.” The reference is to God’s gift of manna and God’s concern for fair distribution.

Paul’s appeal continues through chapter 9. We’re not going to hear that part in the lectionary. As Paul nears the conclusion of his appeal, he writes, “you will be blessed through giving.” And here is another possible motive for Paul’s investment in this project. Somewhere along the way I read that Paul was perhaps less concerned about the threat facing the church in Jerusalem than he was about the threat facing the church in Corinth. He had brought the Gospel to the Christians in Corinth; he had established their community. He was worried about their ongoing faithfulness and salvation. Generosity was essential to the ongoing life of the community in Corinth. Generosity, as a component of faithfulness, was crucial to the vitality and life of the Corinthians Christians.

Finally, he concludes: “Your great generosity, [and he is confident of their generosity] will produce thanksgiving to God through us. For the rendering of this ministry not only supplies the needs of the saints but also overflows with many thanksgivings to God.” Your generosity will overflow into the world as a witness to God’s glory.

When I first read this passage this week I was really struck by Paul’s phrase “fair balance.” It’s so clear, so practical. I gather for Paul, it’s a theological statement as well as a mathematical or ethical one. God’s desire for the fullness of creation is for fair balance.

I’m reminded of the archetypal story of the last cookie. A story played out in many families. There is one cookie left in the cookie jar and two siblings who really “need” a cookie. A brother and a sister both craving the last cookie. So the wise parent says to the brother, “You divide the cookie in half.” And to the sister, the parent says, “You pick which half you want.” Fair balance.

For God, the context is not two siblings in a kitchen craving the last cookie. God looks upon the whole world and its abundance and yearns for fair balance.

What if we could keep God’s perspective in mind as we ponder our own abundance?

To stay with the cookie metaphor for bit…. For young children cookies come from heaven; they just miraculously appear in the cookie jar. Never mind the adult who earned the money to buy the butter and sugar, who put the time and care into mixing and baking. For a child, God provides cookies. It would be good if we could see our own metaphorical cookie jars that way. We tend to cling to our abundance as OURS. We worked for and earned every cookie in that jar. But actually, all abundance comes from God.

And when it comes to fair balance, it’s not our sister who wants some of our cookie. It’s people we don’t know. The Jews and Gentiles were separated by geography, nationality, ignorance and suspicion. The people who need our cookie may be as different and suspicious of us as the Jews and Gentiles were of one another. But we are called to seek fair balance.

Remember, generosity is a quality of faithfulness. Acting generously enriches our faith as individuals and as a community.

And it would glorify God and would reflect God’s generosity out into the world if we would share a generous portion of our abundance with others in need.

The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Who Then is This?
Mark 4:35-41

At the end of the Gospel passage we heard today, the disciples ask one another: Who then is this? Jesus has just stilled the seas and calmed the winds. Who then is this? They call him teacher earlier in this passage. Now they have known him in a new way. Who then is this?

Who then is Jesus for you? How do you experience Jesus in your life? The living Jesus who is here in our midst right now?

Is that a question you think about? Most of us, I expect would be quick to describe Jesus. We have a whole basketful of titles and theological terms to talk about Jesus. He is the Son of God, the Lamb of God, Reedemer…

We know the formulas of the creeds:
For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven…
For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate…
He suffered death and was buried…
On the third day he rose again…

The words describe Jesus and remind us of what he did for us. But what does he do for you? Who then is he in your life today?

As I think of the varied experience of all of us gathered here today, if we could combine our descriptions of Jesus’ actions in our lives, it would tell a wonderful story!

For the disciples, he was someone who stilled the storm that raged around them. Who is he for you?

Earlier this week I participated in the service in which the Rev. Nicholas Romans was installed as the new Rector of Church of the Transfiguration in Palos Park. The preacher was Martin Smith. He spoke about Jesus’ presence with us, in the midst of us, that night. And he opined about what he thinks the living Jesus likes best of all to do. It’s neat to think about what Jesus likes to do when he is with us. Smith’s feeling is that what Jesus likes best of all is to make things new. To bring new life. To renew people, churches, the world around us.

Who then is this Jesus? Often he is someone who makes things new, who renews us.

Smith also talked about how God trusts us. God trusts us to be the church, to be Jesus’ hands and voice in the world. Jesus conveyed that trust to the disciples. Maybe he does for us to. Jesus conveys and affirms God’s trust in us.

There is a common practice among many Christians to speak of Jesus as friend. Who then is Jesus? He is my friend. Yes, he is a constant companion, but there is one temptation to beware of in perceiving Jesus as friend. It’s easy to reduce Jesus to only human… to make him in the image of your ideal friend and then call him God.

But thinking of Jesus as friend inevitably brings to mind the great American hymn, What a Friend We Have in Jesus. Do you remember the rest of the words? It’s a wonderful sort of friendship that the hymn talks about.

What a friend we have in Jesus
all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,
 O what needless pain we bear,
all because we do not carry
everything to God in prayer. 

Who is Jesus? The bearer of our griefs and sins and sorrows.
Who is Jesus? The tireless messenger of our prayers.

I know Jesus as God, sharing my human experiences. And bringing God’s own holiness into my human experience. Shares and makes holy our human experience. The living Jesus still speaks the words that he speaks to the disciples at the end of Matthew’s Gospel. “Behold, I am with you always.”

Who then is this Jesus for you? How do you experience Jesus?

As I think about this question, another hymn comes to mind. It’s one of my favorites; I quote it often.

I came to Jesus as I was, so weary worn and sad. I found in him a resting place and he has made me glad. 

He is a resting place. And a source of renewal. I think “glad” is how you say “renewed” when it has to rhyme with sad. Jesus is a place to rest and be renewed.

He was asleep in the midst of the storm. For me that is not a sign of indifference, it is a sign of peace. Jesus is a source of peace even in the midst of life’s most tumultuous storms. And remember sleep is a process of renewal. Jesus brings peace and renewal even in the midst of fear, uncertainty and chaos.

Who then is Jesus for you?

The Third Sunday after Pentecost

The Kingdom of God is a Weed!
Mark 4:26-34

The parable of the mustard seed. This has to be one of Jesus’ most familiar and well-known parables. What does it mean to you? What does it say to you about your own faith life?

As I consider this parable I am going to draw very heavily on a reflection I read recently by David Lose.  (Posted here on Working Preacher.) He teaches preaching at Luther Seminary in St. Paul.

 But before we get to his thoughts, what does the parable of the mustard seed mean to you? What does it teach you?

I think the primary meaning I have long drawn from this parable is the understanding that the Kingdom of God is a wondrous and miraculous place. Jesus is teaching about the Kingdom. The Kingdom, even as we know it only partially in this life, is a wondrous and miraculous place. A place where something seemingly insignificant is transformed into glory.

The parable invites us to think about the mustard seed’s size, about how something very small becomes large. But Lose gives us another way to consider this parable.

The primary way I've heard the parable of the mustard seed interpreted and preached is as an allegory or fable. First the allegory: just like the mustard seed starts small and grows, so might your faith if you tend it. Second, the fable: sometimes very large things have small beginnings, so don't be discouraged if you exercise your faith in small ways, because God will use it to do great things….

[Fables] and allegories are meant to teach, to instruct, and to edify. Parables, on the other hand, are meant to overturn, to deconstruct, to cause frustration and, for those who stay with them, transformation. (Trust me, no one has been transformed by a fable!)

So consider an alternative, even subversive interpretation. What if the key to reading the parable of the mustard seed were to understand what a peculiar seed it actually is? The things about mustard seeds, you see, is that while some varieties were used as spice and others medicinally, in general they were considered at the very least pesky and often somewhat dangerous. Why? Because wild mustard is incredibly hard to control, and once it takes root it can take over a whole planting area. That's why mustard would only occasionally be found in a garden in the ancient world; more likely you would look for it overtaking the side of an open hill or abandoned field.

So pick your favorite garden-variety (pun intended) weed -- crabgrass, cinquefoil, dandelion, wild onion -- that's pretty much what Jesus is comparing the kingdom of God to. Oh, and that part about the birds seeking refuge. Maybe it's meant as a comforting image -- birds finding shelter from the elements. Or maybe, given the unfavorable reference to birds in the previous parable about the sower -- eating the seed off the path -- it suggests that once mustard shrubs take root, all kinds of things happen including the sudden presence of "undesirables."

Looked at this way, Jesus' parable is a little darker, even ominous. As John Dominic Crossan puts it: The point, in other words, is not just that the mustard plant starts as a proverbially small seed and grows into a shrub of three or four feet, or even higher, it is that it tends to take over where it is not wanted, that it tends to get out of control, and that it tends to attract birds within cultivated areas where they are not particularly desired. And that, said Jesus, was what the Kingdom was like: not like the mighty cedar of Lebanon and not quite like a common weed, [more] like a pungent shrub with dangerous takeover properties. Something you would want in only small and carefully controlled doses -- if you could control it (The Historical Jesus, pp. 278-279).

And I think that's the point: this kingdom Jesus proclaims isn't something we can control. And it's definitely not safe, not, that is, if we're even minimally satisfied with the way things are. Rather, the kingdom comes to overturn, to take over, to transform the kingdoms of this world.

But if you're not satisfied, if you can imagine something more than the status quo of scarcity and fear and limited justice and all the rest we're regularly offered, then maybe Jesus saying that God's kingdom is infiltrating the kingdom of the world offers a word of hope… 

 Hope. Seeing the kingdom of God as an invasive plant offers hope. The kingdom of God takes over, crowds out the kingdoms of this world. Once it takes root, there is no containing the Kingdom of God.

 The Kingdom of God is a world where mercy, compassion, reconciliation, and inclusion guide and motivate people’s interactions. The Kingdom of God is a place of mercy, compassion, reconciliation and radical inclusion.

The kingdoms of this world are governed by the need to control, by self-interest. Peoples’ actions and interactions are motivated by dominance and fear.

The Kingdom of God is invading the kingdoms of this world. Look for it. Look for the Kingdom of God. In your daily lives, look for the invasive mustard plants of God’s kingdom crowding out the carefully managed and controlled “gardens” of this world.

Lose encourages us to actually document these Kingdom sightings. Collect photos or ideas of examples that you personally see or encounter where the Kingdom of God is taking over. Make it a family project. We’ll find some way to share and compile these examples.

There aren’t really any rules for this project except one. I’m not interested in where YOU think God SHOULD be working in the world. We’re looking for examples of where God IS working in the world. Where the hope of God’s kingdom is taking root in the world around us.

This about training our eyes to see God’s kingdom in the world around us. (It’s less about moments of personal grace… times when you know God with you in your life. Those are definitely worth noting, but that’s a different project.) So look for the invasion of the Kingdom of God. Places where mercy, compassion, reconciliation, inclusion are taking root and growing against all odds. And maybe as we discover and discuss the Kingdom in our midst, we’ll also discover ways that we can help… help the Kingdom of God grow.

The Second Sunday after Pentecost

The Edwards Aquifer

For me there are several components that typically go into sermon writing. It’s part reading and academic research, part prayer and listening to the Holy Spirit and part free association. The free association part is important. That’s where the Scriptures for the week intersect with what’s going on in my life or in the world around us.

That intersection of God’s living word with our daily lives can be and should be a part of every Christian’s experience. It only happens, of course, if you’re living with the Scriptures. I urge you, if you don’t already, to take on some sort of discipline of daily Bible reading. Use Forward Day-by-Day or some other daily devotional or use the Daily Office lectionary in the Book of Common Prayer.

 For me this week, free association led me to consider the connection between the Collect appointed for this Sunday and the Edwards aquifer. On the way downtown to the diocesan confirmation service I was reading an article in the Nature Conservancy magazine about the Edwards aquifer.

The Edwards aquifer is a highly permeable limestone formation that serves as the primary source of water for much of central Texas. It’s important for that reason alone, but it is also interesting because it is also the source of many springs and artesian wells. The particular geologic configuration of the Edwards aquifer means that it is the source for water that flows freely of its own power up to the surface of the earth.

In today’s collect we speak of God as the source from whom all good doth come. Or, in the Rite 2 language, the source from whom all good proceeds. I think also of the beloved hymn where we praise God from whom all blessings flow. Jesus, in John’s Gospel, speaks of himself as being living water.

Springs and artesian wells, like those that originate from the Edwards aquifer, flow to the earth’s surface under their own pressure. They do not have to be pumped; they just bubble and spring up on their own, providing life-sustaining water.

God’s goodness, God’s blessings are like that. They flow into our lives under their own pressure or power. The force of God’s love generates blessing and goodness that flow freely into the world. We do not have to dig for them, pump them, grab them or seize them. They are simply given to us like a natural spring flowing freely.

 The analogy with the Edwards aquifer is not perfect. It can be polluted or its effectiveness limited by human intervention. God, as a source of blessing, on the other hand, is truly infinite and illimitable.

 These springs of God’s love could go by many names: goodness, blessing, living water. Whatever you call this goodness that flows from God, it is what we desperately need to really live.

It’s guidance to think and do what is right. Guidance and direction that comes from beyond our own needs and wants. And the strength and will to pursue that guidance.

 It is a reservoir of hope and love when the world is dark or full of despair.

It’s connection to a higher purpose, the invitation to participate in the establishment of God’s kingdom.

The springs of God’s blessing and goodness provide access to renewal and reconciliation.

They bring not only blessings, but the awareness of blessing. The springs of God’s love enable us to feel gratitude for God’s gifts.

And the gift of peace. The peace which surpasses all human understanding. Gods peace which overcomes fear and anxiety.

The free flowing springs of God’s goodness and blessing provide all these things to us.

So where do we find these springs of God?

God is, indeed, present everywhere. It’s possible to encounter God or to find God’s goodness in all sorts of places. And it’s possible, maybe, even come across a real bubbling spring of living water at home or doing something that brings you joy.

But there are sure and certain places, too, where we are absolutely assured of finding God’s goodness and blessing bubbling up, given for us, to us. “Sure and certain.” That’s language of the sacraments. And participation in the sacraments of the church is one sure and certain place where God’s blessings bubble up into our lives. The words of the Bible are another. Our common prayer is another reliable, never-failing spring of goodness and blessing.

Bring your deep thirst, your great need, here and you will find the life-giving springs of God’s goodness and blessing.

Trinity Sunday

Exhilaration and Awe
Isaiah 6:1-8
Psalm 29

I think I’ve shared with you before a comment I remember one of my professors at seminary made: If you think you understand or can explain the Trinity, your understanding is almost certainly heresy. False doctrine. If you are thinking to your self right now… “I’ve always thought about the Trinity this way…” Your idea is almost certainly heresy. On the other hand, if you’re thinking… “The Trinity is beyond my feeble brain to comprehend; I’ll just put the whole idea aside…” That’s probably apostacy. The deliberate abandonment of religion. Our God is a Triune God. To put aside the Trinity is to put aside God.

If your thoughts about the Trinity are along the lines of… “It’s a wondrous, dynamic mystery, and I fall down in worship…” That’s a good place to start.

The collect for Trinity Sunday encourages us to hold faith in the glory of the Trinity and worship the unity.

Worship. We are definitely called to worship the God who is one-in-three and three-in-one. As I’ve been thinking about worship the last few days, I’m carrying this description of worship: an experience of exhilarated awe. It’s something we do, but it’s also something we experience. And that experience is full of exhilaration and awe.

There is, of course, a general definition of the word worship, and it can be used in all sorts of settings. The dictionary definition is worship is “the act of ascribing value.” We worship those things that we see as having value in our lives. To ascribe value is to worship. Thus it is that the Bears, or nature, or materials goods. We worship the things that have value for us. Some of those things are more worthy of our worship than others.

One of my theology textbooks defines religious worship as: “The conscious turning of the attention towards God in an attitude of praise and thanksgiving.” It is also something we do to restore right relationship with God.

Both of the Old Testament readings appointed for Trinity Sunday—the reading from Isaiah and the Psalm—talk about worship.

I love the reading from Isaiah. It paints such a lively, dynamic picture. Imagine the prophet standing at the door of the temple and peaking in. And seeing, not a kind and welcoming vision of Christ like he would see here (although that’s a good thing, of course), but seeing the awesome mystery of God.

His vision is almost beyond imagination and description. But it is also located in a real time and a real place. In the temple in Jerusalem. In the year that King Uzziah died. God is present within the time and space of our human lives.

It was an awesome vision. The hem of God’s robe filled the temple. Seraphs sang and danced and flew and worshiped. The building shook and filled with smoke.

At least in my imagination, this would have been an exhilarating experience—to witness the power and majesty of God. And a humbling experience, too, restoring a right relationship of humility before God.

And then there’s the psalm. The psalmist uses that word ascribe a lot. Probably not a word we use often in everyday speech. It means acknowledge… grant to God. Ascribe to the Lord glory and strength… Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his Name. Acknowledge the Lord’s glory and strength in your own life.

And then the psalmist describes the Lord’s power. Certainly a power beyond our control.

The God of glory thunders.
The voice of the Lord is powerful and full of splendor.
The voice of the Lord breaks the cedar trees.
He makes Lebanon skip like a calf and Mount Hermon like a young wild ox.
The voice of the Lord splits the flames of fire.
The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness.
The voice of the Lord makes the oak trees write and strips the forests bare.

 I’m reminded of something Annie Dillard says somewhere. Instead of wearing our Sunday best to church, we should wear hard hats and flack jackets. Keep this images of God’s power in mind and come to worship with eyes wide, mouth gaping, heart racing before the glory and power of the Lord.

The power of God, the psalmist reminds us, is beyond our control. (Annie Dillard—hardhats to worship). Keep these images in mind. Stand with eyes wide, mouth gaping, heart racing.

Worship is an experience of exhilarating awe.

Isaiah reminds us of one more very important aspect of worship. The prophet is changed by his encounter with the glory of God. He is given his prophetic voice.

Everyone who participates in worship should expect to be touched and changed.