The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost - September 27

Doing Faith
Proper 21B
James 5:15-20
Mark 9:38-50

For the last several weeks, the lectionary has provided passages from James for the second lesson. We’ve been pretty much working our way through James. Today is the last Sunday of James.

As I said when we started James, it sometimes gets a bad rap. Luther was famously dismissive of it and would have preferred it not be in the Bible. James talks about the “works” of Christian life. Drawing upon Paul’s writings, reformation theology, like Luther’s, stresses salvation through faith alone. God’s favor, salvation, does not come through works; only through faith or belief.

But I think we have taken that reformation perspective to a real extreme. We have become too focused on belief as the be all and end all of being a Christian. If we don’t have pure belief, we assume we can’t be Christians. We expend a lot of anxiety worrying about the status of our belief. On the other hand folks who are confident or secure in their belief sometimes think that is all they need as Christians.

James provides a helpful reminder that faith is also a verb. In addition to being about belief, faith is also a verb. Faith is not just what we believe; it is also what we do. The two perspectives are not in conflict. And I think we would do well to re-energize the idea that faith is action.

And, although my main focus today is James, I think part of what today’s Gospel reminds us is that faith is action… what you do with your hand or foot or eye matters.

It’s also nice to remember that you can “do” faith even when your belief is a little shaky. That’s reassuring. Even on days or weeks or months or years when your belief may be a bit shaky, you can still live faithfully. You can still “do” faith. On the other hand, James reminds us: “So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.”

The verses we hear today are from the very end of James’ letter. These are his parting words to the community to whom he writes.

One scholar writes this about James:

[The] epistle of James seeks to encourage and lead us to the conviction that we are indeed endowed by our creator with a rich bounty of gifts for the living of daily life in this world. It is then an extra benefit if the author can teach us some of the practical insights that human wisdom has discovered about a faithful living… 

We have been given a rich bounty of gifts for faithful living. Faithful living in daily life. One way I would describe what this means for me is: There is a Christian response to every situation we may face in daily life. There is a Christian action possible in the midst of every human experience. There is always something a Christian can do.

James talks about what these Christian actions are. He gives practical advice. In passages we heard in earlier weeks, James stressed the Christian responsibility to act on behalf the marginalized and powerless… widows and orphans in his world… in our world, anyone who has less power than we do through absolutely no fault of their own. It is always our responsibility to do what we can, to act to help people who are powerless or marginalized.

In today’s reading James’ vision turns a bit more inward. Speaking to the community to whom he is writing, he says: Are any among you suffering? And he probably means more than just suffering under oppression or persecution, although those might have been possible for early Christians. He means suffering under any negative life experience, such as sorrow, depression, a bad family or social situation, or economic distress.

What is the practical Christian response when we are suffering? Pray. We know that, but we need to be reminded to do it. Pray.

Are any among you cheerful? Again, he doesn’t just mean smiley face happy, he means aware of the goodness of life. Are any of you experiencing good within your life? What is the practical Christian response to goodness? Praise. We know that, too, but how often do we really do it? How often do we pause to offer words or acts of praise?

Are any among you sick? And here he means literally, physically sick. What is the practical Christian response when we are sick? Call upon the church. It never occurs to James that there would not be a church community to call upon. Christians exist in community. And when we are sick what Christians do is call upon the church community. For the church’s anointing and for the support and help that other Christians offer.

When James mentions people who are suffering, cheerful or sick, he imagines that he has covered everyone. He means to cover the totality of human existence and present a practical and Christian response for every personal situation. There is always a Christian response.

He means to be encouraging. But he also challenges us in our day, I think, to ask ourselves: how often really am I living, responding to the experiences of life, as a Christian? What percentage of my life am I doing faith? I was reflecting on aspects of my life (and maybe yours?) where I’m not generally consciously acting as a Christian.

For example, entertainment choices. An example came to mind, that I share with a bit of trepidation. Tom Ferguson is an Episcopal priest who serves as Academic Dean at Bexley Seabury seminary. He blogs on life in the church. Church, of course, is only thing that happens on Sundays. One other things is the NFL.

In August Ferguson, who blogs as Crusty Old Dean, posted about his decision, as a Christian, to boycott professional football. I’m not here to pass judgment on those of you who invest your time or resources on professional football as entertainment. I don’t enjoy it that much, so I’m in no position to cast stones. But it is probably a conversation that for some of you is worth having. Start by reading his piece (HERE). It’s four pages long. It’s not a casual or capricious decision. It’s a thoughtful and faithful one.

But I mention it as an example. An example of faithful living. An example of acting as a Christian in the midst of the experiences of daily life.

There is always a Christian action possible just ahead of us in any situation or experience of daily life. In the choice of food that we purchase or consume. In the choice of vehicle we drive. In the sorts of entertainment we participate in. In the way we relate to friends, coworkers, or people on the train. In the work we do. In the ways we spend our time and our money.

James reminds us to live as Christians. There is always a Christian response or a Christian action before us.

James' final words are worth noting. He says that the bestest Christian action we can ever do is to help others in their faith. And doing that covers a host of other sins or Christian shortcomings. (That’s not the best theology; God doesn’t keep score or assign points.) But James’ priority is good. The absolute best thing we can faithfully do as Christians is to help sustain others in their efforts to live faithfully.

The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost - September 13

Misguided Expectations
Proper 19
Mark 8:27 - 38

The first part of the Gospel reading appointed for today is an event known as “The Confession of Peter.” Not confession in the needing forgiveness sense, but in the sense of professing. Peter professes, or confesses, that Jesus is the Messiah. Peter names Jesus as the Christ, the Messiah.

It’s an important event in the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ life and ministry. It occurs in all three synoptic Gospels, Matthew, Mark and Luke. It even has a holy day on the calendar for its commemoration: January 18.

At first glance it seems like a miracle. Peter actually gets something right. “You are the Messiah.” Peter correctly names Jesus as the Messiah. In Matthew Peter says: You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. In Luke Peter names Jesus as “the Messiah of God.” The Messiah.

What does it mean to you to name Jesus as the Messiah? We know the right answer. We know what to name Jesus. But what does the name mean to you? What does it say about Jesus to confess him as Messiah?

Maybe you know it means something about being God’s anointed. The one who was promised. But what does that mean in terms of who Jesus is, what Jesus does???

If you’re not sure, take heart. Peter didn’t know either. Peter got the name right, but he got pretty much everything else wrong. And, in the end, I think what he got wrong is more instructive to us than what he got right.

Peter confessed Jesus as Messiah, but Peter’s expectations of what the Messiah would do were totally off. We might do better to call this passage not the Confession of Peter, but rather “Peter’s Misguided Expectations.”

You’ve probably heard before that in Jesus’ day there was widespread expectation among the Jews that a big part of what the Messiah would be would be a powerful political leader, one who would fight for their cause and overcome those who opposed them.

Beyond that, and I’m definitely speculating here, I wonder if Peter wanted his Messiah to be a winner, a God of glory and power. Peter wanted to be associated with a Messiah who was acclaimed, not scorned, by the religious authorities. Peter expected his God to do him proud.

Peter clearly does not expect the Messiah to undergo suffering, to be rejected by the important religious leaders, to be killed…

Peter had strong expectations of God’s Messiah. Whether those expectations grew out of the religio/social expectations of his day for a Messiah who was a strong political leader and/or whether Peter’s expectations grew out of his own needs and hopes for who God would be in his life.

Wherever they came from, Peter’s expectations were his expectations and they were way off.

What are your expectations of Jesus or of God? In your own life, or in the world? What do you expect of God?

If God’s not meeting those expectations, then we need to question the expectations. That’s what this passage teaches me.

The problem wasn’t that God was absent or passive in Peter’s life. He was right there!! Jesus was as close to Peter and as active in his life as it’s possible to be. The disconnect was caused by Peter’s misguided expectations of “his” Messiah.

What are your expectations of your Messiah? That he will fight for your cause? Help you shine in the world? Affirm you desires?

If God’s not meeting your expectations, you need to challenge those expectations. And be open to God’s action in your life in unexpected places and ways. God is present; God is acting. But maybe not how you expect. Be open to God’s presence and care in unexpected places and ways.

The Messiah comes to us, not in power, but in weakness and suffering. Not in flashy glory, but in quiet hope. Not to meet our expectations, but to meet our deepest needs… the need for meaning, for joy, for soul-freedom…

If God is not meeting your expectations, put aside those expectations and look for him in new and unexpected places in your life.

The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost - September 6

What's Our Excuse?
Proverbs 22:1-2, 8-9, 22-23
Mark 7:24-37

The woman came up to Jesus bowing in supplication; she was “a Gentile,” not a Jew, “of Syrophoenician origin,” a foreigner. “She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. [Jesus] said to her, "Let the children,” our people, “be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs" such as you (Mark 7:26-27).

I’m not a Greek scholar, but I gather a literal translation of Jesus’ words is tricky. But there seems to be no doubt that his words were a dismissive insult. An ethnic slur. Any number of contemporary examples come to mind.

I can’t imagine there are any preachers who look forward to this Gospel passage as it shows up every three years.

There seem to be two primary approaches to interpreting Jesus’ rudeness.

The first, and most common, is that Jesus was testing her faith. He pushed her away, insulted her, to test how sincere and persistent her faith really was. This interpretation is supported a bit, at least, when Jesus says that because of how she answers—with persistent faith—her child will be healed.

But there are big problems with this interpretation (David Lose, here).  Nothing like it occurs anywhere else in the Gospel of Mark. Jesus doesn’t test people before he heals them. Also, there isn’t any clear mention of testing, as there is, for example, in Job. And, finally, this portrays a cold-hearted and cruel God who taunts and tests us in our deepest moments of need. Not the Jesus of the New Testament or our experience.

The second interpretation focuses on the human Jesus. And, of course, Jesus was fully human. 100% human, just like us. And, also, we assert 100% divine, fully God. In this interpretation, it is the human Jesus who speaks, who hasn’t completely figured out God’s purpose or the fullness of God’s kingdom and its rich inclusiveness. In speaking to the woman who comes before him Jesus reflects the cultural norms of his time. Without a doubt his words convey how fellow Jews of his day felt about Syrophoenician scum.

Picking between these two interpretations, I favor the second one. Although there are significant theological problems with it. Like where was the divine Jesus at the time?  But one nice teaching point from this interpretation (which I think I stressed in an earlier sermon) is that Jesus embodies or models the journey from bigotry to compassion. A very important and faithful journey that all of us humans need to make over and over again.

Ultimately, for me there is no satisfactory or “comfortable” explanation of this passage. That’s an important note.  Holy Scripture isn't always comfortable.  And I’m a bit wary of anyone who does have a comfortable interpretation of Jesus’ words.

But this year, as I read this passage again, a different piece of it caught my eye. Just a phrase, but maybe worth looking at.

Mark says that after Jesus came to the foreign region of Tyre, “He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice” (Mark 7:24).

He entered a house and did not want anyone to know that he was there.  One commentator I read kindly suggested that Jesus was tired. After all, he’d been doing a lot of healing of folks who’d come to him in need. A lot of healing.  He’d been teaching and debating in a setting fraught with stress and complexity as he challenged the religious leaders of his day. Just a little while back he had fed people who were hungry, five thousand of them! Surely he deserved a little down time from the work of bringing God’s kingdom into the world… Surely he needed a bit of Sabbath time from bringing God’s love into the world.

But.  What’s our excuse? For retreating from Christian mission?

What’s our excuse? For wanting to escape notice as Christians?

Why do we hide and remain passive?

Jesus could not escape notice. He was not capable of remaining quiet or inactive in the face of human need.

Oh, that it might be said of us that we cannot escape notice in the face of human need. That we are inescapably noticeable for the work we are doing to bring God’s kingdom, God’s love into the world!

People are hungry, starving, without food, in our world.  Who will feed them?

Who will shelter the homeless, including refugees whatever their ethnicity, in our world?

Who will fight injustice, and its roots in bigotry? And its roots in poverty? Proverbs reminds us to do what we can to redress poverty.

And those who are in distress… Sick in body and soul… Who will offer them hope?

Jesus didn’t do these things to earn notoriety in the society of his day or to earn God’s favor. He did them because it was God’s work. It needed to be done. And he was there to do it.

We are here to do it now.

The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost - August 23

Sure and Certain Means
John 6:56-69

As some of you are aware, each week we have children’s worship bulletins available along with the regular service leaflets. There are no age restrictions! Anyone can pick one up if you wish. They contain activities meant to illustrate or reinforce the Gospel reading for the day. This week’s particularly caught my attention. It includes one of those familiar activities (that I associate with waiting in the dentist’s office as a child) where you are asked to find the differences between two similar pictures.

Some of the differences are the sort of thing you expect in this activity. The sun is in a different place; Jesus is looking left in one picture, right in the other; Jesus’ and the disciples’ belts are different. But what caught my eye is that there are a lot fewer disciples in the second picture. Quite a few of the disciples shown in the first picture are totally missing in the second. This activity does more than illustrate a snapshot from today’s Gospel reading. It tells the story. In today’s reading from John there are fewer disciples in the picture at the end of the story than there were at the beginning.

If I had asked you before church today if there were any Gospel stories where people turn away from Jesus, would you have remembered this story? We think of all of the stories that describe thousands of people being drawn to Jesus, attracted by his words and ministry. But here people walk away.

A couple of observations. I’ll come back to why they walked away and what they missed. But first, as a bit of an aside, this story reminds us to avoid the temptation of looking wistfully to the past as a time when faith was stronger and people more godly… in contrast to the “godless desolation” of our present time. In this story, people who were actually in the presence of Jesus (!) walked away.

Why? There is one clue in John’s Gospel. They say to Jesus: Your words are hard to understand and accept. This teaching is difficult. We don’t like what you’re saying! It’s Jesus’ teaching about sharing his own Body and Blood that offends them. These days it might be something else… Jesus’ teaching to love your enemies…. Or welcome the outsider… We don’t like what you’re saying.

And we have other things we’d rather be doing. As I think about it, following Jesus pretty much always means giving something else up. Disciples in his day had walked away from family, home, work to literally follow Jesus. But it is always a choice to follow Jesus rather than do something else. And people often choose other things they’d rather be doing than following Jesus.

And finally, I can’t really speak for the disciples in today’s reading, but these days I often hear folks turn away from Jesus because he hasn’t answered their every prayer… he hasn’t fulfilled their need, done everything they asked of him. Why bother to follow? So Jesus turns to Peter and the twelve and asks: Do you also wish to go away?

Peter doesn’t quite answer the question that Jesus asks. If he had, he might have said: Yes, Jesus there are certainly days when I wish to go away. But I don’t, because BEING IN THE PRESENCE OF JESUS IS ALWAYS BETTER THAN BEING AWAY FROM HIM.

It’s about being wish Jesus. About sharing life with Jesus. Without Jesus life is empty. Full of activities, maybe, but empty. Little better than death. Being a disciple can be challenging, confusing, and difficult but it is always better than the nothing-ness of life without Jesus.

For Peter and the twelve, even when Jesus’ teaching was difficult to understand or follow, it was still always better to be with Jesus.

We’ve been in the 6th chapter of John for several weeks. This chapter encourages us to reflect on what we, in the church, have come to know as Holy Communion. This week I’ve taken one more step back and want to review the sacraments in general. The Episcopal Church is a sacramental church. For those of us who gather and worship in the Episcopal Church the sacraments are a part of our common life.

And, in the words of the Prayer Book, the Sacraments are “sure and certain” ways to find Jesus, to be in Jesus presence. Sure AND certain. No qualifications, no exceptions. The sacraments are sure and certain ways for us to be with Jesus.

This is not to say that Jesus is not present and active in other parts of our lives, in our civic lives, our relationships, in nature. But we do not always connect with him there. In the sacraments we may be sure that we will find Jesus.

It was interesting for me to be reminded, as I reviewed the sacraments this week, that the early Christians experienced the sacraments before they defined them. The church didn’t create the sacraments; the church discovered that it had been given the sacraments. The definition was shaped by experience.

When the church talks about sacraments, and Holy Communion is the one we encounter most regularly, we talk about them as being two things: Sign (or symbol) and instrument. The bread and wine and the ritual of Holy Communion are signs or symbols that draw to mind for us Jesus’ last supper and his sacrifice for us. But participating in the sacrament is also the means or the instrument to actually convey Jesus’ presence or God’s grace to us. They point to God; but they also convey God’s grace.

When we participate. Sacraments aren’t something that can be watched or read about. They are participated in.

So the Catechism defines sacraments as “outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual grace, given by Christ as sure and certain means by which we receive that grace.” And the second part of that definition is just as important as the first part. Given by Christ. Sure and certain means by which we receive grace.

The Catechism also defines grace: Grace is God’s favor towards us, unearned and undeserved; by grace God forgives our sins, enlightens our minds, stirs our hearts, and strengthens our will.”

Which seems to me to be pretty much what the presence of Jesus did for the disciples. And what the presence of Jesus does for us when, by grace, it comes to us through the sacraments.

No matter what’s going on in your life, in the church, in the world around you. No matter what. Participating in Holy Communion is a sure and certain way to be in the presence of Jesus. And Jesus’ presence brings renewal, hope, life, peace, perseverance. All those things that the world cannot give. Given to us by God’s grace through the sacraments.

The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost - August 16

Communion
John 6:51-58

The Episcopal Church uses the Revised Common Lectionary, a three-year lectionary. The Scripture readings that are prescribed for Sunday mornings follow a three-year cycle. Each year the Gospel readings focus on one of the three synoptic Gospels: Matthew, Mark and Luke. This is Mark’s year. But Mark’s Gospel is short. So in the middle of the summer we take a break from Mark and read from the 6th chapter of John. (We also always read John during Easter season.)

The sixth chapter of John is often called “The Bread of Life” chapter. It includes the familiar language where Jesus says, “I am the bread of life.” In this morning’s passage, Jesus describes his flesh as true food and his blood as true drink.

This is the portion of John’s Gospel that we look to to reflect on what we have come to know and experience as Holy Communion. It’s an interesting contrast and complement to what we find in the synoptic Gospels. The “words of institution” that we hear each Sunday as part of the great Eucharistic prayer come from the account of the Last Supper in the synoptic Gospels. Jesus breaks bread and shares the cup and says, “Do this in remembrance of me.”

John’s Gospel includes an account of Jesus’ last supper with his disciples but the focus is on the foot washing. There is no mention of bread or cup. But Jesus talks a lot about eating his flesh and drinking his blood in this sixth chapter of John. The language is stark. You can imagine why his followers were startled.

As we look at this chapter with respect to Communion, it’s worth noting that it takes place in the middle of Jesus’ life and ministry. It is not a memorial. Not something to do “in remembrance of me” after I’m gone. More something to do “with me” now. Eat. Jesus says. Eat. And receive eternal life.

One commentator said that the main temptation for preachers this Sunday will be to try to EXPLAIN the Eucharist. But that is a temptation to be avoided. This is not the time to try to help people understand consubstantiation, or transubstantiation. Or memorialism…

His eagerness is not that they understand how or why it works, just that they EAT. He offers to share himself with them. Just eat.

Thinking about this reminded me of something written by Gretchen Wolff Pritchard, an author someone who has been very active in children’s Christian formation in the Episcopal Church. When I was growing up, children weren’t “admitted” to Communion in the Episcopal Church until after Confirmation. (Have you ever considered how weird that language is!?)

In her book, Offering the Gospel to Children, Pritchard writes:

Imagine if, until your child was six, you never kissed her, but only let her watch older people kissing each other. Then when she had learned to read and write, (and incidentally, had already passed the age when her imagination was most eager to grasp non-verbal expression and make it a part of her deepest self) suppose you sat her down with a special curriculum entitled “Kisses and hugs: signs of love.” She would color pictures of people hugging and kissing and read exemplary stories about families and answer questions about why we choose this way to express our love. Finally, on a special day when you were sure she understood enough about hugging and kissing to be truly “ready” you would hug and kiss her for the very first time. She would wear a new party dress, and Grandma would come to lunch and bring a present, and she would feel so proud and special.

 

Or would she?

Sacramental actions work directly on our emotions and imaginations: the intellect is only a supplement, important in its own turn for full integration of the experience, but secondary in its contribution to our understanding. 

My main point today is not to talk about children receiving Communion (although I do agree with Pritchard). It is to encourage adults to EXPERIENCE communion with childlike imagination. Don’t worry about what it means or how it happens or which description of the sacramental transformation of bread to body is right. Approach Communion as an experience. Open your emotions and imagination to that experience. The experience of Jesus sharing himself with us. Right now. In this life.

As you undoubtedly know it is common in many strands of Christianity to speak of whether or not someone has “accepted Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior.” It’s often asked in a challenging tone of voice. Have YOU accepted Jesus Christ as your PERSONAL Lord and Savior? The focus of that question is on the act, the choice, to bring Jesus into your life. Most Episcopalians are uncomfortable with such brazen evangelicalism… but there are several ways we might respond.

One is to recognize and say that every time we willfully and joyfully receive communion… we quite literally accept Jesus into our bodies and into our lives. We choose, we act, to receive Jesus into our lives. We consume the real presence of Jesus.

 “Real presence” is a good Episcopal term. But do we mean it? In Communion we consume the real presence of Christ.

Jesus promises that when we eat his body and drink his blood we will receive life. We will receive eternal life. We will share in his eternal life. And I will raise them up on the last day, he says in today’s Gospel, but that seems almost an afterthought. When Jesus offers himself, he offers his life, eternal life, shared with ours. The experience of Holy Communion is taking Jesus into our lives.

As one of the old prayers in the Prayer Book says, “Grant us gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of… Jesus Christ and to drink the blood, that we may evermore dwell in him and he in us.”

Martin Copenhaver is a preacher and professor from the UCC tradition. In a published sermon on this morning’s Gospel, he writes:

So what's going on here? Well, for one, the imagery employed by Jesus in this passage forces a kind of "in-your-face" confrontation with the incarnation. Gone are the abstract, almost disembodied terms about "abiding" in him that Jesus used earlier. Now he uses such starkly corporeal images that we cannot escape the implications of incarnation. Jesus was not a disembodied spirit. To encounter Jesus is, in part, to encounter the flesh and blood of him. The startling images he uses are meant to get our attention in that way.

In this passage, however, language is pressed to its limits to express the indissoluble participation of one life in another. For those who receive Jesus, his life clings to their bones and courses through their veins. He can no more be taken from a believer's life than last Tuesday's breakfast can be plucked from one's body. It is the ultimate communion--the coming together, the union of the Savior and the saved.

The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 9) - July 5

The Church
Mark 6:1-13

I’ve been thinking about two church events that have just taken place. They are very different, but they are both put on by the church. Yesterday, we did our annual Fourth of July Ice Cream Social. And on Friday General Convention came to a close after ten days of work. That’s the every-three-years legislative meeting of the national Episcopal Church.

Thinking about these two different events prompted me to think, again, about what the church really is. How do we describe or define the church?

First, the phrase that we often use, “Go to church” is really sort of strange. Where do you “go to church,” someone will ask. But the church is not a place, of course. “A” church building is not “the” church. Nor is the church really something that we “belong to.”

The church is who we are and what we do.

The church is described in several ways in the Book of Common Prayer. In the catechism it is described as the “Community of the New Covenant.” A community, people, a group of people, united and identified by baptism into the new covenant of Jesus Christ. One of the prayers in the Prayer Book calls the church that “wonderful and sacred mystery.” (Bishop Lee often adds… that wonderful, sacred and maddening mystery!) Us, full of wonder and sacredness.

I want to offer another way to think about who we are as the church. We are people who see and recognize God in our lives and in the world around us. We see and recognize God and then live in response to that awareness.

One of things I learned in seminary is that virtually any way we talk about the Trinity is heresy. And certainly so if we split the Trinity up into three distinct persons with different functions. Nevertheless….

As the church we are people who see and recognize God. We see and recognize Jesus, the Son of God, present in other people.

As the church we are people who see and recognize God, the Holy Spirit within ourselves.

As the church we are people who see and recognize God, the Father, Creator, present throughout creation.

And seeing and recognized God makes a difference! It has a huge impact on what we say and do, the choices we make, in virtually every circumstance of our lives.

The presence of God should lead us to words and actions of reverence and praise. We act and react with reverence and praise before the presence of God in others, in ourselves, and in creation.

Putting on the ice cream social is a lot of work. A lot of people help out, but it’s a lot of work if you think about it just to offer a couple of hours of ice cream and hot dogs. Why do we do it? We talk about offering it as a gift to the community, as an act of hospitality. And it is. But, a little deeper, I think it’s about seeing and recognizing the presence of Christ in our neighbors. The living presence of Christ in the young children enjoying the balloon twisters. Seeing and recognizing the presence of Christ in some of the older folks from the neighborhood for whom this was probably their only social event of the month or even the summer. Christ is present in our neighbors. We respond with reverence and praise.

Then there’s General Convention. As you might imagine, so not my idea of fun! Although there are plenty of folks who love it. A ten day legislative meeting with 1700 delegates (8,000 – 10,000 participants). In past years I’ve heard it described as the largest legislative meeting in the United States. Just think of the logistical minutiae and legislative haggling. With human foibles and sin (pride, fear) on full display. But we do General Convention or Diocesan Convention or even vestry meetings because we recognize the presence of God in the world and God’s presence matters to us. A lot. Seeing and recognizing the presence of God around us compels us to discern and take seriously how we treat one another, how we spend our money, the particular words we use to pray.

We see and recognize Jesus in others. And so treat them with reverence and praise. Sometimes it seems it is hardest to see Jesus living and present in those closest to us. Even Jesus encountered that in today’s Gospel story. His family and the people of his village could not see God’s power in him, in Jesus! It’s hard to see Jesus in the people closest to us, but he is there. It can also be hard to see Jesus in those people who are most different or most distant from us. We do better with the middle ground. But Jesus is present even in people who are very different from us. And worthy of reverence and praise.

We see and recognize the divine presence of the Holy Spirit within us. There is a prayer in the Prayer Book where we say that God has made our bodies the temple of his presence. So our bodies are worthy of reverence. We may not like to hear it, but that means we should be good stewards of our bodies. Not just because it’s good for us, but because God is there! God is within us. We are showing reverence to God. We should also be mindful that our voices, our hands, our feet may be the vehicles by which others become aware of God’s presence.

Finally, and probably often the easiest for many of us, we see and recognize God the creator present and filling creation. And our actions are those of praise and wonder and joy at the holiness of growing plants, the awesomeness of the night sky, the wondrous diversity of life. And we are called to stewardship of creation. Because God’s very presence is within creation.

We are the church, and what we do is what the church does. We are people who recognize and take very seriously the presence of God in the world. Everywhere. Everyone. In every thing. That awareness should lead us to reverence and praise in everything we say and do.

The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 8) - June 28

Do Not Be Afraid
 Mark 5:21-43

I didn’t intentionally set out to makes this week’s sermon dovetail with last week’s, but it worked out that way. Both are about what it means to have Jesus with us. Last week one of my points was that when Jesus is with us, the very power of God can work through us. God’s power, working in us, can do more than can humanly imagine even when we face pervasive sin and social challenges in the world around us.

This week I’m going to talk about another outcome of Jesus’ presence with us. Starting with a discussion of fear. Jesus mentions fear in both of the Gospel readings, the one appointed for last Sunday and today’s. Last week Jesus and the disciples were in a small boat crossing the Sea of Galilee when a perilous storm came up, threatening to swamp the boat. Jesus was asleep on a cushion in stern. When the disciples wake Jesus up, he says: “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”

This week we have the two healing stories. The healing of the woman with hemorrhages and the healing or raising of Jairus’ daughter. Towards the end of today’s lesson when Jesus finally gets to Jairus’ house and encounters people who fear that the young girl is dead, Jesus says: “Do not fear; only believe.”

This coupling of fear and faith in Jesus’ words has a tendency, I think, to encourage us towards an incorrect interpretation of Jesus’ statements. It’s easy to interpret these passages something like this: If only we have enough faith, then fearful things won’t happen to us. Or, if we have the right faith, then we will be spared fearsome things in our lives. And, then the other side of that interpretation is: when fearful things do happen (like storms or illness) it’s because we don’t have the right quantity or quality of faith.

This sort of interpretation is seductive, too, because so much of our life does work that way. If I just train harder, I’ll win more races. If I just work harder, I’ll be more financially secure. If I do more whatever, I’ll be happier… If I just “faith harder” life will be better.

Except faith doesn’t work that way.

And there are several challenges with this sort of interpretation. First, it’s not clear exactly what specific faith or belief Jesus might be calling for.

Second, the Scripture passages themselves don’t support this interpretation. Yes, Jesus stills the storm and raises Jairus’ daughter. But there is absolutely no evidence in the stories that it is because of some improvement in the quantity or quality of anyone’s faith. It is not as though the disciples manage to acquire some extra or better portion of faith and, as a result, Jesus removes the danger of the storm. It doesn’t happen that way. And when Jesus tells the people in Jairus’ house, “Do not fear; only believe,” they laugh at him.

The experience of Christians throughout history, from the time of the disciples up to today, has not shown that having faith means you will not encounter perilous or fearful things. Just ask the martyrs, for example. There has never been a correlation between quality or quantity of faith and an absence of fearsome events.

Faith does not inoculate us from fearful things. Faith is not a vaccine against frightening or perilous occurrences.

But faith can be an antidote to fear in the face of fearful things. Faith does calm and quiet fear in the face of dangerous or threatening things.

The reassurance that Jesus is offering is this: Do not be afraid, he says, I am with you. Do not be afraid because I am with you.

The particular faith that Jesus is encouraging us to remember is that Jesus actually is what we have being saying since Christmas… that he is Emmanuel. God. With. Us. The peace and comfort and love of God. With. Us. Do not be afraid; I am with you.

So look for the sweet and holy presence of Jesus in the fearful places of your life. He is there. With you. Bringing the peace and comfort and love of God to be with you no matter what.

Last week I stressed that Jesus’ power working through us enables us, beyond our wildest imagination, to change things we can change in the world around us.

This week we are reminded that Jesus’ presence with us brings comfort and peace and stills our fears in the face of things we cannot change in the world around us.

Whenever or wherever you feel frightened, look for the sweet and holy presence of Jesus with you. He is there. Bringing the peace and comfort and love of God.

Remember the well-known passage from Romans: Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. That’s what Jesus shows us in these stories. NO THING can separate us from God. I am with you. Do not be afraid. And it doesn’t depend upon the quantity or quality of your faith. It’s about the presence of Jesus. He’s there. Just hang on. Hang on to Jesus.