First Sunday of Advent - November 30

Are We There Yet?
Mark 13:24-37

Advent. Today is the first Sunday of Advent, the beginning of a new church year. The wonderful season of hopeful expectation. The liturgical color is blue, for Mary and for dawn. The first candle on the Advent wreath is lit.

Among the many images for Advent, I’d like to offer you one more. It’s the very familiar scene of a family heading out on a trip in the car. Maybe to the mountains or the beach or to grandmother’s house. And the kids in the back seat of the car asking… Are We There Yet? Huh? Are we? Are we there yet?

Two parts to that illustration. First, the answer, of course, is “no.” No, we are not there yet. But the other part is the kids excited questions. Their excitement and ours comes because we know where we are headed. We know the destination, and we’re eager to get there. It’s an exciting destination. We are not there yet, but we can’t wait to get there. That’s Advent.

The church reminds us during Advent that we are actually on two journeys. We hear it in the Advent Collect and in the readings. Two journeys: the journey towards Jesus’ first coming and the journey towards Jesus’ second coming. The journey towards Christmas and the journey towards the ultimate fulfillment of God’s kingdom.

Both are journeys to exciting destinations. The birth at Christmas of a child, Emmanuel, God with us. And the second journey leads us towards the fulfillment of God’s ultimate desire for us and the coming of the kingdom. Mark is talking about the coming of the kingdom at the end of time. His description is stark, maybe not sounding like something to look forward to. But the journey towards the kingdom is an exciting one. It is a destination to be yearned for. And we know this because of Christmas. Because Jesus came the first time and lived among us, we know what the kingdom is like. We know what we are looking forward to on our journey towards Jesus second coming and the fulfillment of the kingdom.

• The kingdom is like a poor child for whom the angels sing. 
• The kingdom is like a world where a lion lies down with a lamb. Where predator and prey are reconciled. 
• It is a place where all sins and hurts are healed. All. 
• In the kingdom the marginalized are seated at the head of the banquet table. 
• The kingdom is a place where arrogance and hatred and injustice are wiped away. Where all the barriers that divide us are gone. 
• In the kingdom peace soothes all fear and anxiety. 
• It is a place where love conquers even death. 

We are not there yet. Look around you. As individuals, as a society, as a world, we are not there yet. But we are on the way and we know where we are headed. I’ve often said that the seasons of the church year are cumulative. In one sense, we live them all all of the time. And the part of Advent that stays with us year round (after the journey towards Christmas has passed) offers us the reminder that we are on the road towards the kingdom, the promise of the destination that lies ahead. But Advent also reminds us that we are not there yet. It jolts us out of any sort of complacency that we “have arrived” already, that we have already become all that God hopes for us to be.

We are on the way, but unlike kids in the back seat, we are not just passengers. Stay awake, Mark says. And be attentive to the tasks the masker has given you. Be alert. Stay awake. Mark can’t seem to decide if Jesus’ second coming will be in the lifetime of the current generation or some time in the future that no one knows. It’s possible that Mark is conflating two different traditions. When do you think Jesus’ second coming will come? When will we arrive at that journey’s end? If it were tomorrow I expect we’d just throw up our hands and pray for the best. Or often, I think we imagine it so distant and indefinite that we ignore it altogether. But what if it is, say, a year from now. How would that affect the way you live? That’s enough time to really cast away some works of darkness, as the collect says. Let us cast away the works of darkness. Let us work on building the kingdom, such as we can, here. That’s the job the master has given us.

So this Advent maybe we can each look or one bit of kingdom building to do. One place where we can create health or reconciliation or be agents of peace or hope. One specific, tangible thing in our lives that will bring the kingdom closer.

We are not there yet. But we are on the way. That’s Advent. We are not there yet, but we are kingdom bound.

And there’s one very, very important postscript. Because we area also on a journey towards Christmas, towards celebrating anew the birth of God with us…. Because of that, we know that Jesus is with us as we journey towards the kingdom. With us to guide, comfort and strengthen.

Are we there yet? No. But we are on the way.

Thanksgiving Day

An Attitude of Dependence

Thanksgiving is a feel-good holiday. For most people, at least, it is about good times, family, and good food.

A clergy mentor of mine once told me that on holidays like this the only roll of the homily is to evoke that good mood. To evoke feelings of warmth, gratitude and the aroma of roasting turkey. Actually, at the time he was mostly talking about Christmas and Easter. And I generally agree with him. However tempting or important it may seem to a preacher, Christmas and Easter are not the times to rage against secular culture or to launch into a complex theological treatise on the nature of the incarnation or the resurrection.

But I just can’t do it on Thanksgiving. I just can’t preach a sermon that is evocative of a warm feast and nothing more. Any of you who come regularly to these services know that I really struggle with preaching Thanksgiving. The traditions of Thanksgiving are wonderful, but when we try to bring the holiday into the church, it gets very complicated. Fraught with all sorts of theological pitfalls.

One is a sort of spiritual smugness. A well-intentioned effort to be grateful that ends up focusing on the special gifts that have been given just to us. Spiritual smugness. Please be careful. It is one thing not to take for granted the gifts we have been given, however they have come to us. It is a good thing not to take for granted the special gifts we have been given. It is a very different thing to thank God for privilege and plenty that other people have been denied. Please think twice about thanking God for privilege and plenty that other people have been denied.

As I was stewing over this yet again this year, I remembered one of my favorite prayers in the Prayer Book. It wasn’t in the 1928 book; it’s one of the great additions to the current book. In seminary we called it the Charlie Price General Thanksgiving. Charlie Price had input in quite a bit of the current book. He wrote this prayer; it’s in the back with the extra thanksgivings. He was on the faculty at Virginia Seminary when I was there. (I’m thankful for having known and learned from Charlie).

The thanksgiving includes this line: "We thank you also for those disappointments and failures that lead us to acknowledge our dependence upon you alone."

Every part of that sentence is important. We thank you. We give thanks. Not just for stuff we have, but for disappointments and failures. We give thanks for disappointments and failures. But not just because they are good for us. And not for all disappointments and failures. We give thanks for those particular disappointments and failures that lead us to acknowledge, to recognize, what is already true. That we are dependent upon God. God alone.

Disappointment and failure are not the only way to come to an acknowledgment of our dependence on God, but they do seem to be particularly effective.

So for Thanksgiving this year, to modify a popular cliché, I’m trying to cultivate, not an attitude of gratitude, but an attitude of dependence. An attitude of dependence upon God. To be mindful, aware of my dependence upon God for all that really matters.

And it’s a wonderful place to be. To be aware of dependence on God is a wonderful place to be. Not because it’s “character building” to be put in my place. Not because it’s some sort of spiritual “consolation prize” in times of personal failure. To rest and trust in God to provide what I truly need, maybe not everything I want, but to depend upon God to provide what I truly need is a wonderful attitude to live with.

I am reminded, too, of a line from one of my favorite hymns: “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 has made me glad. Even if you’re not weary worn and sad, resting in Jesus is a place of comfort, of gladness.

Dependence upon God means acknowledging that my happiness or success or fulfillment is not dependent upon the things or even the people of this world, but upon the love and presence of God with me. It is to find a place of surpassing comfort, peace and gladness. To acknowledge dependence on God alone eliminates the fear of loss. It eliminates anxiety about failure in the endeavors of the world. It is a place to rest in joy and hope.

This Thanksgiving, join with me in trying to cultivate an attitude of dependence. Dependence upon God alone.

The Last Sunday after Pentecost - November 23

The End of the Story
Ephesians 1:15-23
Matthew 25:31-46

For the last couple of days St. John’s delegates, alternates and I have been at Diocesan Convention. We were there Friday afternoon and most of yesterday. For this annual gathering of the Diocese, this year the theme was “stories.” More specifically, the importance and power of telling stories. So in the keynote address, in the Bishop’s sermon, we heard a lot about stories.

Stories.

Now we as a parish are gathered here for worship on the Last Sunday after Pentecost. This day is also known informally as Christ the King Sunday. It is the end of the church year. Stories and the end of the year. Stories and a day that challenges us to think about the end.

This got me thinking about how stories end. There are different ends we could talk about. It is the end of the church year. There is the end of time to consider… But I want to talk about our end. How will your story end? How will the story of my life end? How will the stories of our individual lives end?

There is a theological distinction between the end we face at death and the end we may face at the end of time, but I don’t think most people worry much about that distinction, and today I’m not going to either. Whenever, however, each of us encounters the end just beyond the time of our knowing in this life, how will that end be written?

Sara Miles was the keynote speaker at Convention. She is an adult convert to Christianity and a writer. One of the things I heard her say is that we like stories that end neatly. We prefer stories that end neatly. The underdog wins. Children find happiness. Bad guys are defeated. People fall in love with someone who returns their love…

But she also pointed out that most of our life stories really aren’t that neat. The stories of our lives are complicated and messy. Victories are fleeting. Bad guys are not completely bad, and good guys are not completely good. Human love is never pure.

But God is in those messy stories. God is part of the messy, complicated stories of our lives.

How would you write the story of God’s presence in your life? Not your life story. Not the story of your accomplishments, but the story of God’s presence in your life. (For me, that’s a more important question than how each of our stories ends… if today didn’t really push us to ponder the end.)

One image came to mind for me. An image, or a metaphor, that might illustrate how we would describe God’s presence in our lives. It’s a parent on the sidelines or in the stands at a child’s athletic event. (Or it could be a recital or play or whatever.) Not one of those obnoxious parents, that you sometimes find at Little League games, but a loving, supportive parent. In this image, God is the parent, of course, and we are the child. The parent cheers, offers encouragement… is waiting with a band aid if we get a scrape, but basically on the sidelines. Wanting the best for us, but mostly an observer. On call, if we encounter some trial or trauma in the midst of whatever the activity may be, but generally on the sidelines.

I have certainly seen God that way at times in my life and I wonder if many of us don’t have something like that as the primary image of God in the story of our lives. Cheering. Wishing us the best. But not directly involved.

Then when the game is over, the parent is waiting to give us a hug, maybe tousle our hair, praise us for more or less doing our best. Put an arm around our shoulder. When the end comes.

Christ the King Sunday challenges us to think about the God who will face us at the end of our story, not as a parent with a cheerful hug, but as a king with unimaginable power. Or as Ephesians says, power of immeasurable greatness. And this king is not on the sidelines, but is in our face. A king of unimaginable, immeasurable power.

I don’t know for sure how God will use that power at the end of my story.

Jesus himself talks about judgment, the power to judge. In today’s Gospel and in the parables of the last few weeks, Jesus has talked about judgment. In today’s Gospel, the King judges between those people who will gain eternal blessing versus those who face eternal condemnation. Depending upon whether or not they offered a sip of water to someone in need. The power of judgment.

But mercy and judgment are inseparable. The power to judge come with the power to offer mercy. They are the same power. Two sides of the same coin. The power of judgment always implies the power of mercy. And the power of mercy is of the same unimaginable, immeasurable greatness. God, the King, has the power to offer mercy and reconciliation that overcome sin and evil of such magnitude where we might see absolutely no possibility of hope. God has that power, too.

I don’t know for sure how God will use God’s power at the end of my story. And you don’t know for sure either. But I do think all of us should take God’s power more seriously. God’s power of immeasurable greatness.

And not just when we are pondering the end.

God is present in all of the complicated and messy stories of our lives. The stories of our lives as we are living them before the end. And God is not on the sidelines, but is actively involved. With unimaginable power. Power that can restore and transform the stories of our lives in unimaginable ways. Those are the stories we should be looking for in the world around us. Those are the stories we should be living. And the stories we should be telling. The end.

All Saints Sunday - November 2

God Trusts Us

We are celebrating All Saints Day today. All Saints Day is one of the seven principal feast days of the church… the most important celebrations we share in our worship life together. As many of you know, it actually fell on the calendar yesterday, November 1. All Saints Day is the only one of the seven principal feasts that we are allowed to transfer from its actual day to a Sunday so that we can celebrate our day, All Saints Day, together as the saints of the church.

All Saints is also one of the days on which we focus on baptism. For reasons that I hope are obvious, it’s a great day to be baptized, to be brought into the communion of saints. And today we will baptize Sarah and welcome her into the Body of Christ, the household of God, the communion of saints.

When we talk about baptism, we often talk about covenant—the baptismal covenant. We will all review and renew our baptismal covenant within the context of the baptism service. Covenant is one of those words we really only use in the church. Basically, it just means contract. A contract between two parties. In this case the two parties are God and each of us. The baptismal covenant is a contract between anyone who is baptized and God.

I was at a service yesterday at the local synagogue and one of the rabbis who spoke sort of indirectly helped illuminate for me one aspect of covenant. And that is trust. Our baptismal covenant with God is sealed and bound by trust. It is not enforced by the threat of penalties as most civil contracts are. Trust—only and profoundly—trust seals and sustains our covenant with God.

We are often called upon to put our trust in God. And in the baptismal covenant we do. We place our trust in God’s abiding love and care for us, as expressed by Jesus at the end of Matthew’s Gospel. “I will be with you always to the end of the ages.” We express our trust that God will keep God’s promise to us, the promise of eternal life with God. We trust God’s will for us, as best we are able to discern that will. Our trust in God binds us to God in covenant.

But have you ever thought about the other side of it? How wondrous and momentous it is that God trusts us?!

Our baptismal covenant is also sustained and sealed by God’s trust of us.

God trusts us. And God trusts us with a lot.

God trusts us to be faithful. God trusts that we will be faithful.

And, especially within the context of the baptismal covenant, being faithful means living as the Body of Christ. God trusts us to be the Body of Christ. How to do that is described in the words of the baptismal covenant. We are to gather together, as a body, for prayer, study and fellowship. We are to be the voice of the Body of Christ, proclaiming the Good News of God in Christ to the world. We are to be the hands and feet of the Body of Christ, working for justice and peace for all human beings. God trusts us with the work of the Body of Christ. God trusts us to be the Body of Christ.

Our covenant with God is bound and sustained, not only by our trust in God, but by God’s trust in us.

God trusts us to be saints!

Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost - October 26

You Shall Love the Lord Your God
Matthew 22:34-46

We know it as the “Summary of the Law.” Jesus’ Summary of the Law. We heard it in the Gospel appointed for today. “’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." There are slight variations in wording, but Jesus offers the Summary of the Law in all three synoptic Gospels: Matthew, Mark and Luke.

For folks who attend a Rite 1 service or grew up with the old Prayer Book, the Summary of the Law is very familiar. It is said every Sunday near the beginning of the service, right after the Collect for Purity. “Hear what our Lord Jesus Christ saith.” And, of course, he saith it in Elizabethan English. “Hear what our Lord Jesus Christ saith: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind…”

Hear what our Lord Jesus Christ saith. But the people to whom Jesus spoke would have immediately recognized that the words Jesus said were not his own. Actually, Jesus quoteth the Hebrew Scriptures. He quotes two passages from what we call the Old Testament. Passages that would have been well-known to the religious leaders to whom he was speaking.

The first would have been extremely well-known. It is from Deuteronomy. And it is known as “The Shema.” To this day, this passage is very important within Judaism. It is one of two passages I can stumble through in Hebrew. Shema, Ysrael, Adonai eloheynu Adonai echad. Hear, Israel. The Lord our God, the Lord is One. Deuteronomy 6:4. Deuteronomy continues: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.

The Shema is both prayer and creed within Judaism. And it lies at the heart of Jews’ faith and their self-understanding as God’s people. The command is taken literally to “Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart. Recite them to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise. Bind them as a sign on your hand, fix them as an emblem on your forehead, and write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates” (Deuteronomy 6:6-9).

I have read that it is the first prayer a Jewish child is taught. I wonder if it is not somewhat analogous to the Lord’s Prayer for us. If children are taught nothing else, they are taught the Lord’s Prayer so that it becomes almost second nature. We say it in virtually every corporate worship service. I think the same is true for the Shema. It has certainly had a central place in the handful of Shabbat services I have attended. We use the Lord’s Prayer in our private prayers. The Shema is used in the private daily prayers of a Jew. If I start the Lord’s prayer, all of you will reflexively join in. I suspect the same would happen among Jews when hearing the opening of the Shema.

That is the tradition that Jesus draws upon when he answers the question about the greatest commandment. Hear Israel. The Lord our God, the Lord is One. You shall love the Lord with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your strength.

The second part of Jesus’ Summary of the Law about loving your neighbor as yourself comes from Leviticus. It is not as significant as the Shemah from Deuteronomy, but it also would also have been familiar to his listeners.

I like it that Jesus’ summary of the law connects us to this important and expansive tradition. When Jesus chooses those words to summarize the law he connects us to words and creed that have been recited from centuries before Jesus’ birth up to the present day.

In the past, I think my personal and preaching focus with the summary of the law has usually been on the second part about loving your neighbor as yourself. So simple and yet so difficult. Simple to understand but difficult to do.

But today I want to explore the bit about loving God a little bit more. What does it really mean to love God? It certainly sounds like something we should do. But how? You shall love the Lord your God with all you heart and soul and mind and strength. Depending upon the Gospel and the translation we get some collection of those four things. Love God with all your heart and all your soul and all your mind and all your strength.

Those four things—heart, soul, mind, strength—are meant to describe the totality of human existence. No part of us is exempt from loving God. We are called to love God with all that we are. And yet the command is also directed at each of us as a unique individual. Jesus (and Deuteronomy) don’t give a specific set of instructions for loving God that everyone has to follow. One size does not fit all. Each of brings our unique personality and individual gifts and passions to the love of God.

We are to love God with the totality and the uniqueness of each of us.

As elsewhere in much of Scripture the love that is meant here is not a feeling. It is a way of acting, an expression through deeds. Do the things we do express our ultimately loyalty to God? Loyalty isn’t the only possible word to use, but I think it’s a good one. Do our deeds express our loyalty, our dedication to God?

Do the actions of our heart, the actions of our soul, the actions of our mind, the actions of our strength or bodies… Do these express our ultimately loyalty to God?

The actions of our hearts. What things do you care about? What people do you care for? Do you care about the earth? About a special place? Some particular activity? Does the way you act with respect to the people and things you care about express an ultimate loyalty to God?

The actions of our souls. One way I think about this is to consider the places where we find meaning or the things we ascribe meaning to. The things we worship. Do our prayers and worship express our ultimately loyalty to God? Or do we worship other idols?

The actions of our minds. The things we pursue intellectually. I read a sermon on this passage this week by a man who was raised in a very conservative evangelical setting. He was literally taught not to question or think about God or Scripture. Later in life he discovered what a spiritually enriching process it can be to bring your mind and intellect to the study of God and God’s Word. And how it can be a profound act of loyalty, not disloyalty. Do we dedicate any of the actions of our minds to the study of God? And in our intellectual exploration of other ideas, do those endeavors express a loyalty to God?

And the actions of our strength or might. To me, this means all of our physical bodies. The places our feet take us. The things we touch. The words we say. All of them. Your feet brought you here this morning. That’s good. But what about everything else that your body will do today? Will those actions express your ultimate loyalty to God?

Love the Lord your God with the totality and the uniqueness of who you are. Let the actions of your heart and soul and mind and body express your ultimate love and loyalty to God.

The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost - October 19

We Are God's Currency
Matthew 22:15-22


Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s. The traditional translation of the phrase from today’s Gospel: Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor's, and to God the things that are God's. This is surely one of Jesus’ all time best-known sayings. It is often brought into discussions on stewardship or the separation of church and state. But these take it out of context.

There is a lot going on in the encounter that is described in today’s Gospel reading. We’ve been reading our way through Matthew all summer and now into the fall. We are actually getting towards the end of the Gospel. The parables we’ve heard the last few Sunday’s and the event of today’s reading take place in Matthew’s Gospel after Palm Sunday, after the triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Jesus is in the temple teaching. His audience is primarily the religious leaders of the time.

As today’s event begins disciples of the Pharisees and Herodians approach Jesus in a deliberate attempt to trap him. The only thing the Pharisees and Herodains hated more than each other was Jesus. Hatred creates strange bedfellows. Remember, that at this time Israel was occupied by Rome, the Jews were oppressed by the Roman Empire. The Pharisees were religious leaders in the Jewish community. Herodians were Jewish sympathizers with the Roman authorities. Both saw their power threatened by Jesus. So they set out to trap and shame him publicly.

It’s also worth noting that at this time Jews paid multiple taxes… The temple tax (21%), land taxes, customs taxes. The tax in question in this encounter was the imperial tax, a tax imposed by Rome on the Jews to support the Roman occupation and oppression of the Jews! If Jesus spoke in favor of that tax, the people would be angry with his apparent support of the occupying powers. If he spoke against it, he would be in trouble with those very powers.

All of this is the context for Jesus’ words. This is not just a preachy phrase about stewardship. The entire situation was highly fraught and tense. And Jesus’ response had implications for how the people would live the whole of their lives.

Into this fraught, tense, significant situation, Jesus places the focus on the idea of image. The image on the coin. In today’s translation Jesus asks, “whose head is on the coin.” The Greek word translated head is actually eikon, much better translated image. And it means even more than that. An ikon conveys the actual reality of what it represents. The coin with the image of the emperor bears the actual reality of empire.

In speaking about image Jesus almost certainly meant for his hearers then and now to make the connection with the creation story in Genesis. Where the story says that we all are created in the image of God; we all bear the image of God.

As I was thinking about how that coin with the emperor’s image on it bore the presence of the empire, I got to thinking about the power of money, what money actually does.

Money is the currency of many of the transactions in our lives. Do you think of your life as full of transactions? Do you consider transactions at all except when you’re struggling with the bank? Actually, our lives are full of all sorts of transactions. Transactions, by their very nature, always involve two parties. Two people or two parties, and some direct interaction or exchange. In a transaction, something changes hands from one person to another. And usually, the transaction produces some sort of result. There are always two parties or two people and something changes hands. Whatever it is that changes hands is the currency of that transaction.

Take a minute and think about the transactions have you participated in, say, the last 48 hours.

 There are all sorts of transactions. Not just financial. I spent Thursday and Friday of last week downtown at retreat for those of serving as regional Deans in the Diocese of Chicago. One of the things we talked a lot about was relationships. Relationships are built through a series of transactions. The currency of those transactions is usually not money, at least not for the relationships we cherish. I recently came across a great quote: The shortest distance between two people is a story. Stories are part of the currency that changes hands as a relationship is built. There are other currencies, also, in the transactions of relationship-building. Physical touch. Words and acts of caring.

In the last 48 hours you undoubtedly did participate in transactions where money was the currency. Lots of them. Think about who those transactions were with and what they meant.

And consider that in just a few minutes you will participate in a transaction right here at this altar. The language may sound strange, but the sacraments are transactions. The currency is God’s grace, changing hands from God to us. The effect of that transaction depends upon who we are and how we accept it. But it is a transaction between two parties. And the currency of any of the sacramental transactions is God’s grace.

So. Circling back to Jesus’ words in this morning’s Gospel.

That coin, which bears the image of the emperor, is the currency of the transactions of empire.

We, who bear the image of God, are the currency of God’s transactions!

That’s what I hope you will remember from this Gospel. We are God’s currency. What we say, what we do, what we spend, what we give… In all of these actions and transactions of our daily lives we have the potential to be God’s currency, the means by which God’s transactions in the world take place.

We are God’s money, printed with the image of God. We are the currency through which God buys things for God’s kingdom in the world. We are the currency for God to build things, including relationships. We are how God does things. We are God’s money.

Printed with the image of God, we are the currency of God’s transactions in the world. What an amazing gift and profound responsibility.

The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost - October 5

Be Praise!
Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20
Psalm 19

Did you notice? In this morning’s reading from Exodus, the Israelites are not complaining! At least not for the moment. They are fully aware of God’s presence with them and are in fearful awe. And they are not blaming Moses for their problems. In fact, they are grateful for Moses’ intercession with God.

And Moses has come full circle. He is back at Mount Sinai where this portion of his life journey began when the voice of Yahweh spoke to him from the burning bush. That bush was at the base of Mount Sinai. And now God speaks to him again. With the giving of the law. The renewal of the Abrahamic Covenant, God’s commitment to God’s people. God’s commitment is given structure and substance in the Ten Commandments.

Commandments or laws given, of course, for the peoples’ good. It’s often noted that some of the commandments govern the peoples’ relationship with God and others govern their relationships with each other. Their relationships with each other! God’s people are fundamentally a community. There is no possibility of individuality in the Ten Commandments. To be God’s people is to interact with one another.

The Ten Commandments not only govern behavior; they are also about defining and shaping identity. Who are we? We are the people saved by God. But even more than that: We are people whose identity and character mirror the character and identity of God. Callie Plunket-Brewton: the purpose of these laws is “shaping the people’s identity and character so that they correspond with the identity and character of God.”

For example, Even the keeping of the Sabbath reflects the peoples’ calling to mirror the character and actions of God. They do not just keep the Sabbath because God told them to. They do not just keep the Sabbath because that’s what the people of God do. They keep the Sabbath because God keeps the Sabbath. In Exodus 20 the observance of the Sabbath was to keep holy the day that God had consecrated as holy at creation. (Verse 11 is omitted from our lectionary reading, but it basically says, you shall not do any work on the Sabbath because God did not do any work on the Sabbath). Their actions were to correspond to God’s actions. Their character was to reflect God’s character. They were to re-present God in the world.

Thinking about this this weekend I saw a connection between the Exodus reading and St. Francis.

Yesterday was St. Francis’ Day. An internet meme was doing the rounds. It showed a bird saying: Happy St. Francis Day. Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures.

The quotation is actually from a piece attributed to St. Francis, The Canticle of the Sun. But if you think about it, really, how does a bird, or a dog, the sun or the stars praise God? We may see God’s touch in these creatures or in nature’s beauty. They may be the motivation for us to offer praise. But can they actually praise God? It may seem like a trivial difference, but it’s important to my point today. Can a bird, in and of itself, praise God?

St. Francis uses that sort of language a lot. Here’s a longer excerpt from the Canticle of the Sun. Note that it says, Be praised through all your creatures. (Not as it is sometimes translated, We praise you because of your creatures.) Be praised.

Be praised, my Lord, through all Your creatures,
especially through my lord Brother Sun,
who brings the day; and You give light through him.
And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor!
Of You, Most High, he bears the likeness.
Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars;
in the heavens You have made them bright, precious and beautiful.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air,
and clouds and storms, and all the weather, 

Be praised by sun and moon, by wind and air, by all your creatures.

We hear the same sort of language in today’s psalm. The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament shows his handiwork…. Although they have no words or language, and their voices are not heard, Their sound has gone out into all lands, and their message to the ends of the world. How do these things without will or voice praise God?

We use the word “praise” to mean “commend” or to express approval. We praise a child for doing well. We praise an employee for a job well done. In this same sense when we speak praise for God we are acknowledging our awareness of the good God does. It is definitely good to be mindful and appreciative of God’s good works. Although that sort of praise can come off as a bit distant and patronizing… Keep up the good work, God! We like what you’re doing here!

I think there’s another way to praise. In addition to speaking words of commendation or appreciation. Because, after all, the sun or a bird cannot speak words of commendation or appreciation.

At its most fundamental level, to praise God is to re-present God.

And the sun, the stars, and animals do that. Just by being. Just by being.

So what does that mean for us? Can we praise God “not only with our lips,” as the Prayer Book says, “but in our lives?”

Yes. First, remember the Israelites: “Their actions were to correspond to God’s actions. Their character was to reflect God’s character”. That’s praising God. That’s re-presenting God in the world. And we do that when we choose to serve God and to keep God’s commandments. The actions of our lives praise God when we intentionally work to align our actions with God’s actions, our character with God’s character. Today’s Exodus reading is an important reminder of our call to re-present God through what we do.

But I’m still thinking of St. Francis. The sun and the birds and the pets whom we will bless later today don’t really “serve” God or intentionally conform their actions to corresponds to God’s actions. They don’t have the will to do that.

But they praise God. They praise God boldly. By being. Just by being as God made them. They are praise. As re-presentations of God’s creative goodness. They are praise. And so are we. And that is a really, really wonderful thing to remember. Each of us is a creature of God, created by God, in God’s image. And just by being that creature of God we are praise. It doesn’t matter if you have a beautiful voice to sing God’s praise, or eloquent words to speak praise of God. It doesn’t matter if your physical appearance is majestic or elegant. It doesn’t even matter if your actions are pious of faithful. All that matters is that each of us is a child, a creature of God. Each of us re-presents God with praise.

There’s a line from Psalm 139: "I will praise you because I am marvelously made." I’d like to turn that around a little bit. Because God made me marvelously, I am a thing of praise. Because I am God’s I am praise. I am a re-presentation of God just by being. Like the cardinal or the great Orion or the majestic lion or fall leaves on a maple tree. They praise God just by being. Just by being how God made them they are praise. And so am I.

Unlike other creatures we have the opportunity to choose to act and live in ways that re-present God. And we should, like the early Israelites, do our best to do that. But, especially on St. Francis’ Day, hang on to the wonder and joy that comes from simply BEING praise. Each of us, as a wonderful creature of God’s, is praise!