Begin anywhere.

Esme was born in England and raised in Chepstow, a Norman town on the Welsh/English border. She has B.S. in business administration/marketing from Portland State University and a master of divinity from Church Divinity School of the Pacific. Prior to becoming a priest, she was CEO of an executive recruiting firm. She served as associate rector at Grace Memorial in Portland, rector at St. Aidan's in Portland and as supply priest at Calvary Episcopal Church in Seaside.

Christ Episcopal Church

Season of Creation: Proper 17B

A Reading from Prayers of the Social Awakening, Walter Rauschenbusch

Psalm 19

A reading of “Nothing is Lost” from Ladder to the Light, Steven Charleston

Mark 7:24-37

Border Lessons

We’ve come to a bit of a glitch in Mark’s Gospel but Mark is just the reporter. It is in Jesus’ ministry of teaching that we sense a little glitch and I feel compelled to tell you a secret. Mark’s seventh chapter often strikes fear in the heart of many a good preacher because it’s problematic and upsetting and they avoid it like the plague. Better to stick to Old Testament reading for the day, or the assigned Epistle. Far safer because, after all, who is calling who a “dog?’ Perhaps Pastor Gary would disagree. Maybe Lutheran preachers are more courageous than Episcopalians and latch on to Mark 7 like dog latching on to a juicy bone. 

Nevertheless, this second week during the Season of Creation, we are to remind ourselves of our need for reconciliation, our need to learn, accept and offer welcome all those who differ from us wherever or however we encounter them. Thus, the very least we can do in order to rise to the occasion is to look closely at what is happening in the area where Mark’s record takes place. 

Jesus is out of his own country, visiting a place we now know as Lebanon. A country with different rules, different cultural expectations than those Jesus knew. Jesus was in a place he would consider foreign. A region known then as the Ten Cities, semi-autonomous states under the influence of Roman and Greek cultures, 

Jesus is abroad. This would have been a new experience for Jesus and his disciples. At the time he was young man, anywhere from his late twenties to early thirties, travelling now away from the Jewish world in which he grew up and understood. He had travelled into the world of the Gentiles.

Under normal circumstances, non-Jews, Gentiles, were considered as untouchables, meaning that they were to be avoided as unclean. If you were a Jew you were deemed to be clean and acceptable. Any other than Jewish, you were considered to be strange, foreign and, therefore, not acceptable. 

It's no surprise hear that racism was just as alive and well in the first century as it is today. In the first century, the Jews simply viewed all non-Jews as Gentiles, or foreigners. 

As it was, even though Jesus was out of his own country, his reputation for teaching and performing amazing miracles had reached beyond the borders of his own country. He was surrounded by what he would call the Gentiles. 

This propensity toward racism lends itself to the reason so many preachers tend to avoid this particular piece of scripture. It seems so very out of place with the way we view our present world and our faith in Jesus’ message of love, especially love of neighbor. Yet, we don’t have to go back too far in our own history to find evidence of the same. Nor do we have to look far to see remnants and elements of irreconcilable differences between people who should have learned long ago how to recognize human similarities rather than to point to our differences.

Another major difference between attitudes in the first century and today has to do with animals. In just a few weeks we will be celebrating our life with animals, wild and domestic, barnyard and those in our homes, such as dogs and cats, and, oh, okay, hamsters and pet mice. Regardless of whether they are purebred or a blended variety, once invited into our homes, they become beloved members of our families. We love them as we love our children and will give all we can to ensure their comfort and safety. Not so in Jesus’ day.  All people thought about dogs in the same way we do rats, except for those who have pet rats. On the whole, they were thought of as vermin. 

Knowing all this, and knowing now the atmosphere surrounding Jesus and his disciples, and their reactions to where they find themselves, we begin to notice some similarities and some differences in the two stories Mark is writing about. One is alone and one is surrounded by friends. One comes to seek healing from one who is becoming known for performing miracles. One comes merely in faith. Both are poor. Both may have experienced challenges due to their impediments, physical or racial. 

Even though she must have known she could have been cast aside by all manner of people surrounding Jesus, a Syrophoenician woman, a Gentile, summoned up all her courage and decided to approach Jesus. He was inside a house, enjoying a meal with his disciples and friends, attempting to find some rest and quiet away from the crowds in the streets outside. A mother, a poor woman without means, whose child was suffering from what would be called an unclean spirit at the time, was probably at her wits end regarding how to save her daughter. We don’t need to know the nature of the illness, but even if it were a stubborn case of flu, there were no remedies and a high chance of death. She was desperate enough to beg and she brazenly came right inside the house to drop at the feet of Jesus and to beg for his healing help.

She was begging at the edge of his table, begging like a dog begging for scraps.

And here’s where the story gets a bit too dicey for some among us.

Jesus observes her subservient behavior and tests her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” 

Jesus! What?

But do not fear. When Jesus says, “Let the children be fed first,” He is implying that the time is not right. He is not here to work on behalf of Gentiles, He has come on behalf of Jews in the area. It is not the right time, He reasons for Gentiles to receive such blessings Maybe in time. He is not saying “Never,” but rather, “Not yet…one day.”

The woman is persistent, and he begins to understand that, whether Gentile or Jew, He is not responding to her trust in God’s compassionate response to faithful prayer. Why would she risk everything, perhaps even her life, so desperate was she to find help for her child? Why would she come before a Jew who would regard her as one would regard an unclean dog? 

Her persistence brings a quick and sure answer to Jesus. “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”

Recognizing her answer as one coming from a human being, with the same fears, hurts, joys as any other come to seek Him, he overcame traditional law and immediately learned a valuable lesson of the power of faith coming from other than that which he knew and he responded with compassion and love. Casting aside secular tradition and norms, he responded by healing the woman’s daughter from a distance.   He used his learning to teach his disciples and friends of how the reality of that Good News is to be spread by them out into the world, far beyond their own borders.  Human-made laws, rules, hierarchies have no place in God’s Kingdom unless they are coming from a place of love and compassion. 

Making his way onward, his second encounter takes place in yet another place toward the Sea of Galilee in the Decapolis region. This time another peasant was brought to him, with the help of friends and family. The man was deaf and he was affected with an impediment in his speech. The faithful groups pleaded with Jesus to lay his healing hands on the man, trusting that the man would be healed if only Jesus would touch him. Recognizing the faithfulness of the group, Jesus took the man to a private place, healed him, and sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha”, “Be opened.” The man’s hearing was immediately restored and his speech became clearly understood,

Even though Jesus asked the man and his friends not to tell anyone of this encounter, they were all so overjoyed they spread the word, “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”

Faith that is difficult to see at first but exists in some way and deserves love. Faith that is easy to see and identify trusts in God’s love to heal.

What is the manner and shape of our faith? How do we express it? Do we summon up our courage and speak it out loud and clear, or do we prefer to keep it to ourselves lest people judge us and consider us as foreign to the norms of secular society?

How difficult is it to come to church on Sundays? We see our friends, we are greeted by our own kind, we can say the name, Jesus, without fear of reprisal. We find it hard to add to our numbers despite our welcome signs and welcoming ushers, all the while being pretty certain no one would want to join us. Why? Who do we pass by if they are faithful, but show it in a different way than do we?

It was a lesson learned by Jesus from a poor, desperate woman of another culture, another religion, another way of thinking.

How will the Syrophoenician woman have the courage and trust to show up at our door, longing for some healing of the heart, some shoulders to lean on if she has not noticed we are here? 

In order for the deaf man to find a way to a place that can assist him in his need for healing assistance, he must know we are here. 

We Episcopalians are beginning to understand our common faith with our Lutheran brothers and sisters, and we must ask ourselves how we are to connect with all other of our faith with whom we have more similarities than differences: Catholics, Methodists, Praise Churches of all kinds, Jews, Muslims, Orthodox, Reform and yes, those who believe in God, but cannot find their way to God, cannot find faith beyond day to day reason. Could we begin by praying for peace and contentment in their lives, whoever they are? People who at this very moment are wondering where the next bomb will drop and if they will be killed or left to ponder another day why people kill people in the name of power and lack of compassion and understanding. Jesus weeps. 

How many borders, physical, mental, emotional, uninformed must we begin to cross in order to reconcile us to our fellow creatures. How many borders will our degree of faith allow us to courageously reach to take the hand of the one not known?  When have we moved closer to the uncomfortable, only to discover joy in the new?  What borders have seemed to high for us to climb over when we might have invited someone to join us in prayer for God’s healing grace in their lives? 

I smile in solidarity when I pass by the Samoan Assembly of God in North Portland hearing their songs of praise, loudly, courageously, proudly reaching the Grocery Outlet parking lot on Lombard Street. Sing it, friends, I think. Somebody is listening.

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

Coming Clean

As a young child, I can well remember my mother’s voice admonishing me for blithely popping up into my mouth something from the floor where, it, whatever it was, had dropped. This, I still firmly believe, took place long before the 10-second rule came into being! “That’s a dirty thing, now,” she would exclaim, taking it out of my mouth and discarding it. This, too, I firmly believe, took place long before my mother understood that since the deed was done, there were a million or more germs now in my mouth and I was destined to live on, despite the immense peril to which I had exposed myself. I am living proof, however, that she probably really did save me just in the nick of time!

I remember all that spitting out, just as surely as I recall during moments of my life, spitting out epithets which were somehow intended to make my point stronger and more effective. They were not my proudest moments, not the kindest, not the most understanding or tolerant, not the most compassionate or accepting. It is with shame I remember those moments, and shame has a way of sticking in our memories, the recollections rising up unexpectedly, when we least want to remember them. 

Hopefully, we have learned from the memories of all we’d rather forget. It’s how we learn and thus survive; how we transition from some sort of self-imposed emotional imprisonment transitioning into a kind of emotional, physical and spiritual freedom which expands as we mature and learn. Somewhere, at sometime in our lives, we found God and God’s statutes, ordinances and commandments, all lending themselves toward our new way of being. As Christians, all of us always still in the learning process, we are called to love our neighbor in the best way we can.

And just who is our neighbor? The guy next door? The people down the street, across the country, whatever their political leanings or religion might be, or the people around the world in countries we will never see, whose culture and language we cannot understand? 

As people of God, what we are called to understand is this: whether or not any of these understand God or acknowledge God in a different way than do we, God has and will be always God to all, knowing that everyone near or far continues to seek God in some way and in whatever way they choose. God is as near and faithful to each of them as God is near and faithful to each of us.

If you read one of today’s Old Testament readings from our normal Lectionary, you would read about Wisdom, written in the Book of Proverbs.  Wisdom, known in those writings as Lady Wisdom is available to every creature alive. Her message is clear. If we do not follow Wisdom’s teachings, we will suffer. She imparts her Wisdom as if Mother to all living creatures on earth, rich or poor, to anyone who is wise enough to listen.

Her message calls us to listen to the words of the wise, openly and without pride, because the bottom line is that all words of wisdom might well be speaking to us through various people and situations for God. In other words, God is speaking to us through our experiences and learning moments here on earth throughout our lives. 

Can we not stop and wonder at that? To think of all those people throughout our lives who have offered us wisdom to assist us in our work of living satisfying and appreciative lives. I love Pope Gregory’s reading today that speaks to skepticism of the Risen Christ, and yet we barely give birth more than a moment’s thought. We celebrate the birth of a new being, but do we wonder about the miracle of new being coming from what was once non-existent. 

And then, the beautiful wonderings of Howard Thurman, we enjoyed today. “amidst the arrogances of empire; the whisper of those who had forgotten Jerusalem, the great voiced utterance of the prophets who remembered­—to Jesus, God breathed through all that is.”

God breathed through all that is. 

So, given all of this. Given that God breathed through all that is. Why is it we do not stop every now and then, and simply wonder at it all? Why is it that we still lose our tempers, flare up at each other, shed blame, point fingers, go to war at any level?

Just as the scribes and Pharisees asked Jesus long ago, “Why do your disciples not live according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with defiled hands?” He said to them, “Isaiah prophesied rightly about you hypocrites, as it is written,

‘This people honors me with their lips,
but their hearts are far from me;

in vain do they worship me,
teaching human precepts as doctrines.’

That last statement hits home. How often do we teach human precepts as doctrines rather than God’s? How often do we go our own way, rather than in the way of God? How well have we learned to love our neighbors as ourselves in the way God has called us to love? What lessons have we really learned in living with God’s commandments, no matter our religious preferences?

In this Season of Creation, the world in its universe and countless other universes, we are to become acutely aware of our source of life and life abundant, which is given to us and to all by God.

And yet, truth be told, our hands are as defiled as the hands of those who gathered around Jesus, eating in an unacceptable way and misunderstanding his teaching. Our hands are as defiled as the hands and mouth of a child eating something picked up from the ground, innocent as only a child can be but coming away from our experiences without change or understanding of a better way. If our lack of awareness was ours and ours alone maybe that wouldn’t matter. But, what the Season of Creation wants us to learn, urges us to take to heart and remember is that if we are working with defiled hands, everything we touch becomes just as defiled.

The land, the air, the sea and sky are speaking out to us, loudly. Climate change is our problem. We created it, we have to fix it. It is up to each one of us to consider before we throw whatever we don’t fancy into the landfill. It is up to each one of us to find a way to give those things we no longer need to those who would be grateful to receive them.

It is up to each one of us to acknowledge the differences between our neighbors and ourselves, and rather than judging, it is up to us to allow our acknowledgment and curiosity to lead us into new friendships. 

It is up to us to put a stop to animal cruelty when we see it or hear about it. 

I met Hildie the Dog after German Shepherd Rescue called me. She was just over 2 years old, and screamed if you touched her. She could get vicious if you touched her rear flanks or tail. After three and a half years, Hildie and I have become loving friends. I am allowed to touch her all over, although once in a while, she will softly growl to warn me to move my hands up a bit. She still is wary of strangers, especially if they don’t have people or dogs with them.  It is clear that she was severely abused by a human who didn’t understand her kind as a young pup and she will always carry some wariness due to that abuse. But Hildie came into my life at a time when I was praying hard for someone new to come into my life. She was loved by God, and my prayer was answered by God via her first rescuers at Shepherd Rescue. 

Whether it be dogs, cats, rabbits, birds, snakes, snails, rhinos or tigers and the thousands of animal species and insects we cannot ever hope to meet or understand, it is ours to remember that we are to be responsible for their welfare and their future. Because, just like us, they are creatures created by God. They have been placed on this world and when God said we have dominion over them, God didn’t mean we could abuse them, neglect them, ignore them, or pretend they don’t exist. We have been given dominion over our earth, and all it offers up as gifts of God, created and freely given to our care. Trees, plants, the grasses of the world, and yes, even weeds, are ours to tend, control, and use for the beauty of the earth, for the feeding of the world, and for our comfort and contentment. 

We are called to mercy. We are called to be merciful to all Creation. And we offer ourselves into God’s hands asking for God’s forgiveness on behalf of all that we have denied, desecrated or destroyed with our defiled hands. Listen to these words from St. Agustine:[1] 

“’And what is this God?’ I asked the earth and it answered: “I am not he.” And all the things that are on the earth confessed the same answer. I asked the sea and the deeps and the creeping things with living souls and they replied, “we are not your God. Look above us.” I asked the blowing breezes, and the universal air with all its inhabitants answered, “I am not God.”

I asked the heaven, the sun, the moon, the starts, and “no,” they said, “We are not the God for whom you are looking.” And I said to all those things which stand about the gates of my senses: “Tell me something about my God, you who are not He. Tell me something about Him.” And they cried out in a loud voice, “He made us.” 

My friends, it is time for us to come clean. To wash our hands of our assumptive neglect and abuse. If we pray for nothing else during this, the Church’s Season of Creation, let us pray for clean hands and clean hearts in the caring of all that is God’s. In God’s name we pray,

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

September 1, 2024

[1] Saint Augustine. The Confessions. X.9

Christ Episcopal Church

Proper 15

1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14
Psalm 111
Ephesians 5:15-20
John 6:51-58

Eternal Life100

If you really want to know the average life-expectancy rate in your part of the world, or your part of the country, or your city, or by your ethnicity, your economic circumstances, the illnesses you’ve had, the number of surgeries, how the changes and chances of living in the 21st century have affected your psyche, you can go online and find out. Before you do, don’t freak out too quickly if you feel your age is edging to closely to the outside expectation for living in this mortal world. Remember, the numbers are averages. We should all intend to surpass the numbers with Olympic proportions and look forward to living out many a year from now. 

Yet, as we well know, we cannot, nor will we, simply go on and on in this human world without end. And we should be glad of that. First of all, who wants to keep on dealing with world war, technical difficulties,  passwords, billing and insurance options for another bazillion years. And then there’s those self-driving cars. Enough already. 

Jesus says we have an opportunity for eternal life if we eat the bread and drink the wine that reminds us of him. Does he mean we just keep on living in this world with our human ways? On and on and on, without fear of life ever ending on earth? I’m positive Jesus did not mean anything of the kind and, as always, he leaves us to interpret the meaning of his words in our effort to understand. 

Eternal life is as much of a tall order for us mere mortals to understand, just as it was for the good people in his own time. We can well understand the words that his disciples said just after the scripture we heard today, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?”[1] 

The discourse we heard this morning was taking place in Nazareth, when Jesus was home among his own people, having returned as an adult rabbi and teacher. Miracles had already taken place, like the feeding of the five thousand, turning water into wine and more, and his fame was spreading. But, as we know, that fame was lost on most of the people in his hometown. They, like many of us, truth be known, were at one level confused, and at another level, a bit skeptical of what they were hearing, given that most of them had known Jesus as a child, growing up among them. And to be frank, Jesus didn’t make it easy for them or for us to understand. His words didn’t seem to make sense to the people listening to him any more than they seem to for us. 

Humanity wants validation. Signs. Proof. Something tangible. Like the manna that came from heaven in the wilderness. Whereupon, not wanting the people to misunderstand, Jesus said something like, “Look. Be clear. The manna that came down was real bread. Like the bread you made in your oven this morning. It was provided by Moses thanks be to God. But the bread I’m talking about is very different from any kind of other bread you can think of. It is me.”

The locals were clearly not buying it.  Especially from the one they knew well as Joseph, the carpenter’s son. What’s he talking about? Giving us his flesh to eat? His parents are lovely people, but he’s crazy and he needs to get out of town.

Let’s leave them all to it for the moment and consider Jesus’ words ourselves. If you’re like me, you enjoy eating good bread. The problem with good bread is, however, that you can’t eat just one slice. At some point, as with all food after it is consumed, you get hungry and need to eat more. And the food and drink equation is pretty simple and straightforward. If you stop eating food completely, you will die of starvation. 

However, Jesus is not speaking in mortal terms. His invitation to us to eat this kind of bread emerges from a divine perspective and understanding. But the equation works in the divine just as it does in the here and now. 

Putting it metaphorically, if we give our lives to Christ, relying, trusting, having faith in the divine guidance of Christ, believing in his direction and in who and what he was and is, and understanding that  all of this constitutes the bread of life, then our souls and spirits are nourished. God, Jesus God, provides the strength, insight and divinely fed power we need to keep on, keeping on. Jesus says we only need to eat it once. We don’t need to eat it over and over again. The reason we do, the reason we come to church on Sundays to participate in taking in the Sacrament during the service of Holy Eucharist, is to remind ourselves of just where it is we can derive that strength of spirit and food for the soul. Through the spiritual meal of bread and wine our bodies and souls, exhausted by human life and trial, is replenished, renourished, revitalized, giving us the power to live a life built on Christ. Without it, our soul, our spirit and our faithful sense of well being simply dies. 

We can recall the Samaritan woman at the well. She had no need to return to Jesus for more water, once she drank in the living water that was Jesus. The very life blood of Jesus. The blood that sustains the divine in us…the Christ in us…the essence of Jesus Christ Himself. 

In the same way, we can trust in a divine way when we think of Christ’s bread and wine…the bread and wine that is Christ. Participating in the Eucharist is a reminder to remember his death, to remember his resurrection and to believe he will be with us again, and again and again. That his presence in our lives never ends. In other words, to eat the bread of life, to take in the very essence of Jesus as the very giver of life, is to believe in the One who saves us from all that wants to kill our hopes, our joys and our spirits. Rather, we are called again and again to savor all of God’s blessings in our lives. 

Jesus gave himself to the world for the life of the world and it is probably the most important point Jesus wants us to understand, which is why he goes over and over it again. He is making a point about sacrifice. The sacrifice of body and blood that Jesus made for us and for the world. But the teaching doesn’t stop there. Jesus is also speaking of the sacrifice you and I can make for someone else. To give of oneself is the greatest gift one can give. 

A little lamb would be known the people in Jesus’ time as a common yet special sacrifice, to God. Jesus, the Lamb of God, is giving himself to you and to me and to whoever in the world wants to accept him, now and forever, once and for all. His is the greatest gift of all time. He gave it for our sakes, as an offering in payment to God for our ignorant sinfulness. He offered it to God as a single intercession on our behalf.

We do not hear these words with literal meaning. We hear them as part metaphor, part divinely inspired interpretation and as an invitation to walk with faith in God and the one God sent to teach us….the one known to God as God’s Son, Jesus Christ. 

Even though, as we know, Jesus became human in the same way as do we. He was born, grew through a normal childhood with all the childish ways, he grew into manhood, gathering all the same human experiences as do we, loving, grieving, crying and laughing, suffering, dying and rising again to appear as human, eating fish on the beach, just to prove it. So, his flesh was as real as yours or mine, and yet given life through the power of the Holy Spirit. It is this last that we too often forget, and that Jesus never forgot.

So, while we incorporate a divinely spiritual meaning behind Jesus’ words, we do not lose touch with the human, mortal, flesh and blood part of him. Jesus acknowledges his humanity with his references to body and blood, but he is referring to these basic elements of life itself as from Godself. Without these, “you have no life in you.”[2] And again, he refers to himself as he says, “I live because of the Father.”[3] So we begin to understand his equation. When Jesus refers to himself as the eternal Son of the Father, whose life we share, then suddenly we realize that if we abide in Him as He abides in us, then we, too, have the same eternal life. 

In a few moments we will share Holy Eucharist, and consecrate the bread and wine, and we will call upon the Holy Spirit to bless and sanctify the elements so that we may take in the divinity of Jesus, God’s flesh and blood, quickened by the power of the Holy Spirit. This is what gives us life. This is the breath of life….the same breath that formed Adam out of the dust….the same breath that was breathed into us at our conception, raising us as one with the Risen Lord, the second Adam, and we, as mere mortals of our time, are animated by the Spirit and made new, again and again and again, into eternity.

Nobody said this would be easy for us to understand. Yet, it is through this understanding and this willing acceptance of the body and blood of Christ that we enter into an eternal transformation. 

There is a beautiful alternative scripture that precedes today’s Gospel. We’ll hear it next year but let me share a little of it with you now, since it is so relevant to our reflection today.

It is from Proverbs Wisdom Scripture. 

Wisdom has built her house,
she has hewn her seven pillars.
She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine,
she has also set her table.
She has sent out her servant-girls, she calls
from the highest places in the town,
“You that are simple, turn in here!”
To those without sense she says,
“Come, eat of my bread
and drink of the wine I have mixed.
Lay aside immaturity, and live,
and walk in the way of insight.”

You that are simple. You that are merely mortal. You that seek. You who are mature enough to taste this bread and drink this wine. Turn in here! Throw off your immaturity, come in and live, come in and walk in the way of wisdom and insight. 

We have been given the teachings and heard Wisdom’s encouraging welcome to begin to understand what it is Jesus wants of God’s mortal creatures. 

What we are to learn is the ability to recognize the slow changes that occur in us as our faith deepens and as we dare to enter the divine thinking of Christ. No longer simply existing in a way of life that has no life….living from issue to issue, circumstance to circumstance, deadening the impact of the world’s expectations with short-lived entertainment and escape. 

In the spirit of the Olympic Games we have just witnessed, we are called to enter an event we could call the Divine Olympics. We can call the event the Eternal Life 100 Run. It is an event that has no finish line, and there are no winners or losers.  When we walk with Christ in The Way of Christ, live for Christ more than we live for ourselves, we find it easier to give of ourselves completely, as a living sacrifice and thanksgiving and praise and there is no end to this. 

As we hear the words of the Eucharistic Prayer, so familiar to us, today, really listen to the words, really hear what they are saying. They are our response to Jesus’ request of us to take in God’s Divine gift of life through Christ’s own sacrifice.  The words echo the amazing mystery that has captured human hearts for over 2,000 years!

Sacrifice your skepticism. Sacrifice your need to made human sense of the divine. Sacrifice your need for human proof. Simply allow yourself to give yourself completely to God as you take the bread and drink from the cup. Why?

Because it is by him, and with him, and in him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit that we live and have our being. Therefore, all honor and glory must surely belong to God, now and forever into the eternity of which we are a part. 

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

August 18, 2024

[1]John 6:60

[2]John 6:53

[3]John 6:56

Christ Episcopal Church

St. Helens, Oregon

August 11, 2024

12 Pentecost, Proper 14(B)

2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-53

Psalm 130

Ephesians 4:24-5:2

John 34:1-8

Most of you probably remember the Irish author Frank McCourt who, back in the ‘90’s,  wrote the book “Angela’s Ashes.” The book was a memoir of his impoverished and difficult childhood in Ireland. It was a straightforward account of the extremes in life, differentiating between what it means to be merely poor and what it means to be impoverished. To be impoverished means to have little hope of changing anything for the better, knowing only a grindingly harsh present with little reason to speculate on the future except through day dreaming. Describing life as he knew it in Limerick, Ireland, McCourt wrote:

“It was, of course, a miserable childhood……. 

“Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood. People everywhere brag and whisper about the woes of their early years, but nothing can compare with the Irish version: the poverty; the shiftless loquacious father; the pious, defeated mother moaning by the fire; pompous priests; bullying schoolmasters; the English and all the terrible things they did to us for 800 years.”

Provocative words and likely to get a rise out of someone, and they did!

Yet the words have a quality of being at once challenging and yet humorous; truthful in their revelation of difficult circumstances painted with the brush of a loving spirit.

The choice of words provides a contrast between all that is dark and foreboding in a life and a life that is filled with a spirit of promise for those who choose to receive it. 

Much like the complaining Jews sitting and listening to Jesus, even though Angela’s Ashes sold over 5 million copies and was eventually made into a movie, there were plenty of voices ready to discredit McCourt’s account of his life in Limerick. Yet, countering the nay sayers, his brother Malachy would say, “In reality, our life was far worse than Frank depicted. Insane outbreaks of laughter saved us!”

If you have read the book, or plan to, you will know that when Frank wrote about all the challenges of his life, all the disappointments at the hands of people and circumstances, he wrote words of truth, but not words of bitterness, Revealing words yes, yet not filled with revulsion. There is tenderness in his truth, humor in the harshness. There is forgiveness in the recall and a sacrifice of self in the revelation. And so, we accept, try to understand, to laugh and cry with recognition, and forgive right along with him. 

It is the way of truth. The words are not so much self-deprecating as they are simply a retelling of the way it was and, may I say, the laying down of a lifetime’s heavy burden. Had McCourt chosen harsh, accusatory words when describing his miserable childhood, chosen words of bitterness and anger, discredited and destroyed the character of personalities that play a part in his life, he may not have sold 5 million books.

The truth is, we all appreciate truth, and we recognize the ring of truth when we hear it. Then, we must ask, why is it so hard to get at our own truths, our own realities. We too often use words and phrases that cover our truths, words that will satisfy conventional acceptance.

Much of the time, we are unable to find word that describe our own truths in the daily midst of our struggling to be found, to be heard, and it takes time to figure out who and where we are. We want to be counted as relevant in the world as we find it and yes, we want desperately to be loved.

Yet too often we allow ourselves to suffer from sagging spirits and impoverished egos, desperately seeking roads to happiness through whatever means to ensure that the world knows that we are who and what the world expects us to be and that we are worthy of the world’s acceptance. 

We become adept at ambiguity, using words to cover realities and as protection from revealing our own truths. We rely on throw-away phrases: have a nice day, have a good one, no problem and, in answer to the inquiry,
“How’re you doing,” we have an inevitable short answer, “Fine.”

Fine. What does it mean. Fine. Does it mean we are sustained for now…for the moment…so used are we to the peaks and valleys of our own moods and dispositions. Proving that we have conquered the challenges with which we struggle every day. That we are survivors in the game of living. 

We speak to one another as if we are speaking in truths but sometimes our words mask our true feelings. I feel angry, I feel misunderstood, I feel hurt, why can’t we sort things out? Too often we walk away unfulfilled or resentful and begin to conjure up rationale, and false thinking about ourselves or others. And when we do this, we unwittingly become accomplices in the tearing down of the very fabric of God’s hope for God’s creation and the Holy Spirit is sorely grieved 

The problem with all this is that while we may have triumphed over the challenges with which life hands us, we want the world to love us before we can even love and accept ourselves. Just as we are. Just as God made us.

There is a certain sadness in this very human struggle of contrasts….between a sadness that reveals our lack of acceptance about the truth of who we really are, and the God-given beauty that resides immovably within each of us.

There is a deep, yet hard to acknowledge, sadness in our knowing that through our misplaced words and actions, revealed in bitterness or disappointment, we sometimes sabotage the very fulfillment we are seeking, and in doing so, we can drain the well of hope that someone else might be deeply depending upon.

We can get upset if someone doesn’t act in the way we want them to or do what we want do want them to do. We tend to admonishment rather than seeking other’s perceptions of how things might be. We transfer our disappointed expectations into feigned insults. We are hungry for something, we aren’t sure what, and we hunger for some life-giving sustenance to shore up our ailing spirits. 

As a child, Frank McCourt recounts the time of his confession of his sins to St. Francis. Hearing his confession, his priest reminds Frank, “God forgives you, and you must forgive yourself. God loves you, and you must love yourself. For only when you love God and yourself, can you love all of God’s creatures.”[2]

Easier said than done amidst our worldly skepticism, as it is now and as it was in Jesus’ day.

Jesus said, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty….” Yet, people who knew him complained when they heard these words. Who was Jesus to be saying this, they asked among themselves. Jesus was speaking radical words. Who was he, the son of a simple carpenter, to be claiming truths that seemed implausible, that seemed too farfetched to comprehend. They gossiped among themselves and faced Jesus down. Yet Jesus did not flinch from his truth, his insight into the living truth that is ours to accept and live by. 

And the truth is that when we live into the radical claims that Jesus is making, we open ourselves to receive insights into understanding just what it is he wants us to understand. Just as Frank McCourt discovered, it is far easier said than done. 

For Jesus, the insight doesn’t come as a result of our Sunday morning piety. It is not revealed by who we wish we could be or pretend to be or even, really, who we really are, our status, or may I say, even our decision to live a Godly life. 

We receive spiritual insights by living fulfilling and satisfying lives through God’s grace and a deep awareness of that grace.

It is through grace that we learn to forgive as we have been forgiven. When we have the courage to ‘tell it like it is’ about ourselves. When we have the courage to face up to our own truths. When we have the courage to turn to God, made known to us through the truth of Jesus Christ, then we are able to receive that which Jesus offers us so freely – the true bread of life. 

As Christians it is through a deep love of Christ and by walking in His Way that we find the strength to summon up this kind of courage to be simply who we are, love for who we are created to be. No more. No less.

Perhaps we should pay closer attention the words of Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians wherein he states, “let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear and do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God.”

Words that build up are like good food, filled with life-giving nutrients, allowing our words to carry gifts of the Spirit to fill hearts with grace and to deepen our relationships with one another and with God. 

During my ministry at Grace Memorial Episcopal Church in Portland, part of my work there was to run the annual Grace Art Camp. One year our Artist-in-Residence created a beautiful design for the camp t-shirts and, after making their design, the campers were asked to print a word of his or her choosing on the shirt. At the end-of-week assembly, I asked the children to tell me some of the words they chose to wear on their t-shirts. Every week of camp, I heard the same responses: peace, joy, kindness, happiness, imagine, laugh, mystery and yes, you probably guessed it, truth!

I also heard words life-giving words like: strawberry, pizza, blueberry, hamster, puppy, bird, fun ….and grandma!

Then I played a game with the kids. After hearing twenty or so words, I asked the 140 or so children to, all at once, shout out their words through the rafters of the community center, sending them high into the sky, up into the heavens, where the words can float around the clouds, where we can imagine them gently bobbing up and down, sometimes coming near people when they least expect it, and leaving the bodies they inhabit feeling filled with new life, new hope and renewed faith in themselves.  

Fanciful? Yes. It’s a child’s game and yet, for some of those children, it was a prayer of hope. For some children came from difficult and challenging circumstances at home and did not all enjoy a peaceful existence. Even so, I never heard angry, bitter words being lifted up, no accusatory words, words of complaint, words of self-serving grandeur, no attention-getting words, words that tear down rather than build up, words that harbor fear and doubt rather than words that pray for confidence, encouragement and love. 

Rather, the words each group of children chose, week after week, were life-sustaining words, much like the words Frank McCourt used to portray the difficult circumstances of his own life. 

Like those, so long before us and those coming behind, we are invited as God’s children to choose to live out the words that feed us well, that is to observe the contrasts of entering into, and living with, the outcomes of whatever words we choose to use. 

We are invited to speak as God would have us speak and to reap the joyful benefits of God’s grace in return:

The grace that always chooses forgiveness and pardon… for our own transgressions and for those of others……

The grace that enlightens our thinking and sheds our secret burdens of guilt…..

The grace that banishes resentment and renews and refreshes the soul.

At our baptism we are invited to inherit all of God’s creation as both its recipient and its caretaker…..whether new born, age 6, age 66 or more. We are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever. Marked. Sealed. Forever. 

These are words that set us free to live a life that is formed by radical truth bathed in love. 

Just as Jesus declared his loving words of truth to a hurting world, we are free to speak truths we may have never dared to speak….

We are free to speak words of faith, no matter in what way, or however clumsy they may be, to imitate Christ’s love in the world….

We are free to speak with courage, to imitate Christ’s radical forgiveness in the world……

We are free to speak words of sacrifice, to imitate Christ’s living example of humility in the world. 

And we are free to speak words that lift the human spirit so that they can fly with joyous freedom throughout eternity…….so that they might mingle with words of hope, promise and love that have been sent to meet them there.

“I am the Bread of Life. Who ever eats this bread……

Whoever builds up the Kingdom of God with kindness in the face of angry judgement….

Whoever speaks truth with tenderness, even though the truth be hard…..

Whoever finds the fullness of forgiveness, even in the face of gross injustice…..

Will take in the bread of life that sustains all Creation… be raised up at the last day….. ….and live forever.

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

August 11, 2024

Christ Episcopal Church

St. Helens, Oregon

Proper 13 The Feast of the Transfiguration

2 Samuel 11:26- 12:13a Exodus 24;29-35

Psalm 51:1-13 Psalm 99:5-9

2 Peter 1:13-21

Ephesians 4:1-16 Luke 9:28-36

John 6:24-35

Honor and Glory

I found myself in bit of a dilemma this week. Transfiguration Day is

on Tuesday, August 6. Just two days away and a major feast day in

our Christian lives. And, because it is one of my favorite feast days,

one of the ways I love to imagine Jesus, I really wanted it to be

today….

Yet, if I focused just on the Transfiguration scriptures, then we would

have been out of context with our lectionary for Pentecost when

David gets his comeuppance from God for his wicked behavior which

we heard about last week. And then we would miss the beautiful

Ephesians message from Paul, which contains a phrase that we all

know: ”There is one body and one Spirit….. one faith, one baptism,

one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.

Most of all we would miss the main story….the story that seems so

mysterious that it’s hard to grasp. The story about Jesus, taking Peter,

James and John up to the top of a mountain, about where the snow

starts to show up, and how the disciples were getting tired and sleepy,

but for once stayed awake when they saw Elijah and Moses talking to

Jesus who was Light itself….actually transfigured by light. Peter tried to

make sense of it all by calling for some earthly reality, but as soon he’d

made his offer to build dwelling places for each of the holy ones, a great

cloud came and the voice of God rang out again, just as they had heard

it before…. “This is my beloved Son, listen to Him.”

It’s all just too good to pass up. And why should we. Because within

those scripture readings for Transfiguration Day are some of the most

profound we’ll ever hear from the heart of Peter himself. Listen to this

from Peter’s second letter to the world:

2 Peter 1:13-21

“I think it right, as long as I am in this body, to refresh your

memory, since I know that my death will come soon, as indeed our

Lord Jesus Christ has made clear to me. And I will make every

effort so that after my departure you may be able at any time to

recall these things.

“For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made

known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but

we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty. For he received honor and

glory from God the Father when that voice was conveyed to him by

the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, my Beloved, with

whom I am well pleased.” We ourselves heard this voice come from

heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain.

“So, we have the prophetic message more fully confirmed. You will

do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place,

until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. First of

all you must understand this, that no prophecy of scripture is a

matter of one's own interpretation, because no prophecy ever came

by human will, but men and women moved by the Holy Spirit spoke

from God.”

Right. Well, OK then. If you want to try to understand scriptures,

here is a lesson from a firsthand witness of the life and times of

Jesus Christ. Peter, who seemed to sense his end was coming,

wanted to be sure we heard the truth, the whole truth and nothing

but the truth, as it was then, in his own time, and now as it is, in

ours. In short, he’s saying, “I was there, along with a couple of the

others, and we made nothing up.

“We saw His glory and heard the voice of God. So we can confirm

the prophecy.

“So, pay attention, and keep thinking about this during your entire

life. And remember, none of the scriptures comes from some

human’s imagination. No prophecy every came into being that way.

It came to those who wrote down the scripture who knew what they

were talking about and were moved by the Holy Spirit to write it

down as the Spirit dictated.” 

It is clear that Peter wanted to be sure we can and will understand that what

happened on the mountain that day, really did happen. That they weren’t

making it up. Because, let’s face it, Peter was human, too, just like us. He

knows that trying to explain something as incredible as what happened to

Jesus is a tough sell. It may have happened 2,000 years ago, but life is life,

and humanity is humanity, and Peter was no intellectual giant, nor was he

stupid. He was like most of us. And any of us can think of a time when

we’ve needed to convince somebody else of the truth, no matter how far-

fetched it sounded.

There they were on the mountain with Jesus, one minute just walking and

talking, perhaps wondering where they would end up, especially since they

were getting tired and their feet hurt. But then, there was the same Jesus in

glorious light, in such a light that none of them had ever witnessed before.

They suddenly realized the holiness of the moment, the holiness of the man,

the rabbi, the teacher they had been following and with whom they’d been

walking day and night from town to town. The light was so blindingly

bright that they had to peer into it to be sure of what they were seeing.

There was no mistaking it. Jesus was transformed before them.

Which leads us to, and underscores what we’ve heard today and what we

know about Jesus and bread and the giving up of himself as a fragrant

offering and sacrifice to God. As usual crowds of people are following

along, not really understanding what’s going on, and when the people want

explanations, and demand signs in order to believe in Jesus, Jesus is called

to explain the difference between real bread and the metaphor of faith

saying, “….it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is

my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven….and gives life to the

world.” 

The connections between the scriptures we have heard pronounced today,

and the scriptures which describe the Transformation of Jesus, we are given

clear pathways to understanding our faith in Jesus and the meaning of the

Holy Eucharist. Jesus, himself, is setting everyone straight, from his own

words, and now from the witnesses that day. If you have faith in God, you

have faith in me. If you know me, you know God. Even if you haven’t

seen me but know me and know God you will have eternal life. How do

you get that? Take the living bread and live. Don’t merely exist. Don’t

exist just to complain or think that all there is to life is to wait for it to

happen. Take, eat…..take me in….live…. and be transformed, transfigured,

changed from who you are without me, to who you are with me.

Every now and then, we get it, just like Peter. We see transformation

happening to others and, if we’re watching for it, we see it happening in

ourselves as well. We see it in the faces of new parents as their child takes

his first steps. We see it in the faces of families and friends out picking

peaches on a Saturday afternoon, with a little tell-tale juice running down

the face of the 6-year-old. Sometimes we can see it in the face of a known

grump, when the face suddenly softens into a soft smile, as beautiful music

rises up around welcoming ears. Or, maybe, you see it in yourself,

watching your feet sink into the sand, the ankle-deep wave leaving you on

the beach as it rushes back from where it came, and you try to see it, but it

changes before your eyes, and you can never be sure it is the same one that

felt so cool and refreshing on your feet. Or maybe you saw it when your

team won the cup, and you were there with everyone else and you just

couldn’t believe it because you were certain your team would lose. The list

goes on and you can fill in plenty of blanks. Do you remember when…. It

was unbelievable. It was a magic moment I’ll never forget. It was a

moment when all that points toward holy peace, joy and love came

together. It was a transfiguring, transforming moment. It was so deeply

felt, so transcendent, so filled with the breath of life, that it was impossible

to sustain.

And we wish we could be in that moment for ever.

Yet those moments come and go so quickly, that sometimes we scarcely

notice them for what they are. Holy, transfiguring moments. They are ours

to recognize or to miss.

In the moment we receive a small wafer….. this is my body…..or a sip of

wine….this is my blood, Jesus speaks. Know me. Know my Father.

Know that I am the bread of life, the bread that will transform you from all

that you have been and done and know into even brighter shining

possibilities that people will scarcely be able to believe when they witness

it, so perhaps it is not surprising that on this day, the scriptures of

Transfiguration Sunday and the Eleventh Sunday of Pentecost really do

speak to each other. In our bible studies we often speak about connecting

the dots, and so perhaps it is a good exercise for us all to remember as we

say our prayers, sing our hymns, listen to the lessons, hear the word of

Jesus, and as we hear the familiar words of the Eucharistic prayers… “take,

eat…”

To really walk with Jesus, that is, not just loping along behind him, is to

seek out God, see God and be made radiant by God’s honor and glory.

Verse 5 of Psalm 34 emphasizes the message and connects another dot for

us….

“Look upon him and be radiant, and let not your faces be ashamed.” 

Let not your faces be ashamed. Let them be filled with honor and

glory, too. Let them radiate joy. As you come to God’s table

today and look upon Christ, take in his radiance so that it may

be your radiance, too. Taste and see that the Lord is good, for

happy are those who trust in him.

Let the joy of your encounter with Christ, and the words of one

man, Peter, who wants you to know the truth, and the deep

witness from the heart of another man, John, who wants to

convey just who Jesus was, permeate your spirit, so that you

might become transformed and transfigured, too.

To experience transformation, allow yourself to be led to the

mountain top to encounter Jesus in his Glory. You need only

your heart, mind and soul to get you there. But don’t hesitate

to seize the moment when it is offered to you. The moment

will be fleeting, playing tag with your clear thinking, and if

you recognize the moment, and you allow yourself to be

drawn into it, or ever after, like Peter, you will hardly believe

that what your mortal eyes clearly saw, and what made you

gasp with astonishment, was true.

Amen

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

Christ Episcopal Church

St. Helens, Oregon

Proper 11 B

2 Samuel 7:1 -14a

Ephesians 2:11-22

Psalm 89:20-37

Mark 6:30-34,53-56

Sabbath

Rabbi Levi saw a man running in the street, and asked him, “Why do you run?” He replied, “I am running after my good fortune!” Rabbi Levi tells him, “Silly man, your good fortune has been trying to chase you, but you are running too fast.”[1]

It’s a wonderful old tale included in Wayne Muller’s book Sabbath, published 20 years ago which I’ve turned to more than once to be reminded how to slow down and take a break.

“There’s no rest for the weary,” is a phrase that has come down to us from the 19thcentury and is meant to be humorous, a kind of tongue-in-cheek way of saying that no matter how tired we are, we have to keep on working. Actually, we can thank the Prophet Isaiah for starting the whole thing with his words, “The Lord God said, peace is not to wicked men,”[2] and again, “But the wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest….”[3] In other words, Isaiah, there is no rest for the wicked.

But as God well knows, wicked or not, we all get tired. Weariness is not exclusive to the sinful or the sick, to busy parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, executives, people on their way up, sliding down, or stuck in the middle, teachers in overflowing classrooms, students balancing work and studies, people working two or three jobs just to make ends meet, and today, all around the world, wrestling with accumulating problems mostly not of their own making. For the vast majority of people all over the world for a variety of reasons, the truth is, we all get tired. 

We get tired of computers that are supposed to make our lives easier, but tend to consume our time, especially when they don’t cooperate. We are fatigued by the daily news, that shocks our senses, makes us work harder to hold on to hope, and muddies our vision for the future. 

And even though we try to keep up our strength by getting enough sleep, eating decent food and the like, ….we too often find ourselves running, running, running to keep up with it all. No wonder coffee shops are so successful! 

We are not just victims of the world’s expectations. We’re pretty good at loading ourselves down with work. Whether with work, or play, we continue to overload ourselves. We load our calendars with “to do’s.” Little children learn early, being booked into camps all summer long, with little time left for simply lying on one’s back in the grass to stare up at the passing clouds. When was the last time you did that with your kids, young or grown, or even by yourself, whether at the beach, or in your own backyard? If you want to shock one of your children or your spouse, try asking him or her to join you outside to contemplate the stars. If nothing else you’ll enjoy the look on the face you’re talking to!

When we talk to each other, one of our most common topics of conversation has to do with all the work or projects we have done, have to do and plan to do for as far into the future as we can see. We have created a society which considers tiredness and fatigue a symbol of success and achievement…and we add on the outcomes of our fatigue, by comparing the degree of our pain as a result of it: migraines, heartburn, sore muscles.

We have fashioned a way of life that lifts up fatigue like an Olympic gold medal. The only problem is, we are in a race of our own making and we invite ourselves to compete in it….and the gold medal looks like gold on the outside, while on the inside it is likely to resemble something that feels like lead. 

Yet to be working so hard that we are exhausted, effectively shields us from all that God has intended for us. What God wants us to be able to accomplish seems next to impossible to deliver, because we are too tired from all the busyness that is not God’s work. We give thanks for Sunday mornings that beckon to us like oases at the end of our weeks of work and worry. The approach to Sunday morning should be an approach filled with peace, anticipation of an opportunity to simply rest in God. And, as God reminds us, we are able to leave all that compels us to work or worry at the door, if only for an hour.

“Come to me all that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest,” [4] says Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew. And today, in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus suggests the same to his apostles. They had been working hard….walking, teaching, talking, explaining, convincing, over and over again…so much so, that they didn’t have time to eat. They probably weren’t sleeping much either…keeping on the move as they were. 

We can assume there was a pre-arranged time for them to come back from their labors to report to Jesus how everything was going, because, according to Mark, they do just that. Like all laborers out in the field, be it farm work, sales or evangelizing, they report to headquarters. 

After listening to the stories his disciples told Jesus as they gathered round him, rather than taking time for teaching moments, suggestions on how they could improve on their work, or how they could do better, in his compassion for their fatigue, Jesus recognized that they needed to rest and to take time to refresh themselves. What a relief that must have been and don’t we wish that we could hear those words after we have completed a job and done it well. “great progress…now get some rest…..well done!” Jesus sees that the disciples are tired and, like a gentle rain that comes after a prolonged drought, his words fall softly around his faithful followers, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.”

“Come away….and rest a while.” They are words that each of us would welcome, in our own worlds of busyness. It is good for us to recognize that the words are meant for all God’s disciples, not only those gathered around Jesus in his time, but for all of us today.

So many of us work hard in the labor to which we feel obligated or called: our jobs, our church and our communities. All good and worthy recipients of our time and our talents and all require much of us. We are motivated by our Christian faith to assist a troubled world. There is much we expect of ourselves as faithful Christians and to be sure, we are called to do the work in the name of God and in the service of God’s people. But we find ourselves running out of steam and falling behind and we become anxious that we are not doing all that God wants us to do and we don’t feel as fulfilled as we hoped.

From our worldly perspective, we come up short of our own expectations, and our busyness and our subsequent fatigue, serves to signal our misdirection of effort, our mistaken illusions that our overloaded agendas are somehow pleasing to God. As long as we cling to the illusion that we will be right with God if we run farther and faster doing good deeds, adding to our to do list for God, the less time we will allow for stopping long enough to take stock and ask ourselves, “What is it that God is really asking me to do?

When the disciples gathered around Jesus, their stories of work, work and more work, tumbling over each other in their telling, about people, people, people….everywhere, all the time…never leaving them alone…no time to eat. Jesus said….stop…rest….spend some time alone. God knows it is not easy, because the world never stops its demands, but God is calling you to find that quiet place, just as Jesus was calling his disciples to do the same.. 

Jesus knew they needed to take time to contemplate the important from the trivial, so that they could continue their work in a more focused way. A way built on passion rather than necessity. Work founded on call rather than anxious desire to be right with God. 

God invites us into a place and time we call Sabbath, and we have accepted that invitation on this Sunday morning to come for Sabbath time. For rest and renewal time, for reckoning our priorities, for making decisions about how to take time for laughter and delight.

Jesus welcomes hearing of the good works of his disciples and recognizes their passion about what they are doing. He wants to participate in that passion and in their stories as he does in ours. But he wants his disciples and wants us to rest ourselves so that we can do our work for God to the fullest. There’s a vast difference between doing the work God has called us to do, and doing good works, or any work, just because we think it’s the right thing to do, or it will get us in good with God, or with each other, or will bring us status or visibility or that it will simply reveal to the world that we are in the worldly race to success.

When we are doing the work that God is calling us to do….we still work hard, we still get tired, but it is the kind of tiredness that is fulfilling and satisfying and it is the kind of work that will allow us to take our rest, without guilt or without fear of being left behind or being deemed unsuccessful.

Here is a lesson I learned just earlier last week, during the hottest days of the year, I was out walking with Hildie the Dog early in the morning, I came across a man digging up a strip of deeply embedded grass in his front garden. He was digging deeply in order to get at all the roots, because he said he wanted to put in a flower border. It was clearly a big job, but he was quick to agree that the work was a labor of love, and even though he had a goal in mind, he would do just what he could today, and come back to work in the cool of tomorrow’s morning to continue on. Instead of feeling dissatisfied that he couldn’t do the work all at one time, he could rest from his labors and feel fulfilled in having accomplished part of the work today, to be continued tomorrow.

It was as if the Holy Spirit wanted me to understand that God wants us to rest so that we can go out and do the work again tomorrow. God calls us to come together to be replenished….away by ourselves….away to this church this morning, and to another at home or away this afternoon. God wants us to find a place of peace, be it in our homes, in our minds, our hearts or by the beach or the backyard….no matter, as long as we are there to give thanks for where it is we find ourselves and for the peace that is given to us there. 

In his compassion, Jesus sees what we need amid our worldly concerns, just as he moved to respond to the needs of the crowds closing in on his own need to find rest for himself and his disciples. 

The Book of Exodus teaches, “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.”[5] To keep Sabbath, we have to prepare for it, whenever it is, however much time we have given to it. We are to enter into it and to keep it holy until its end, and we can begin by embracing rest rather than fearing it. We can take time to move to the rhythm of creation, feeling ourselves as part of it. We can look at time past, present and future, not worrying about its passing, but relishing the gifts it has in the present, and will continue to offer up to us. We can take time for love and loving. For happiness and contentment in the moment, regardless of what the world has waiting for us outside of our Sabbath time. Perhaps we can take time to dwell on the good in us and others, to understand ourselves as one simple part of the flow of things, rather than one who needs to control them. Perhaps we can take time to be mindful of all we encounter during our Sabbath. To notice that all is holy, given to us for our enjoyment for a quick moment in time. 

Life is a fleeting thing. How sweet to end it knowing that one took time to savor it fully and completely in the early morning light, at dusk’s sunset, by an afternoon river or a night time’s moonlight. 

No matter our age or circumstances, perhaps we are beginners at this new practice called Sabbath, and we can begin to practice preparing for and entering into our own Sabbath Day on Saturday, and upon waking up on Sunday morning, giving thanks for the day of rest we call Sunday. Whatever day of the week we can plan our Sabbath time, we can learn to plan our work time on the day before the Sabbath or the day after. Perhaps our should do’s, the bills, the vacuuming, the repairing of the porch, can wait for 24 hours, or be accomplished prior to your Sabbath, keeping the Sabbath clear and pure, as it is intended to be by God. A time and place for rest, enjoyment, timelessness, for creation and re-creation. Perhaps for the man I met digging up his lawn, that work is his Sabbath. If not, then I know he will have the wisdom to lay down his shovel and invite his family to rest with him, until the time comes for him to pick up his shovel again. 

The ninth verse of the first chapter of Ecclesiastes says “That which has been is what will be, that which is done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun.”[6] The Night Prayer from the New Zealand Prayer Book prays, “what has been done, has been done. What has not been done, has not been done. Let it be.”[7]

Let it be. Let it be Sabbath. Embrace it. Honor it. Protect it. Sacred rest is yet another gift that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.[8] 

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

July 21, 2024

[1]Traditional Tale quote. Sabbath, Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in our Busy Lives. Wayne Muller, (Bantam Books, NY 1999) p. 48.

[2]Isaiah 48:2

[3]Isaiah 57:20

[4]Matthew 11:28

[5]Exodus 20:8

[6]Ecclesiastes 1:9

[7]The New Zealand Prayer Book: Compline

[8]Based on Psalm 118:24

There is a plaque hanging outside the front door of my house that holds a single phrase, “Begin Anywhere.” The plaque used to hang in my office at St. Aidan’s during my tenure as Rector there, just as it did at Grace Memorial, the church where I began my ministry as a newly printed priest. The plaque’s statement is simple and straightforward: “Begin Anywhere.” 

In addition to the plaque, I have a little book written by John McQuiston called, “Always We Begin Again.” I love and rely on both these precious reminders as I continue to wade through all the endings and beginnings of my life

The plaque reminds me that sometimes we win, sometimes we don’t, and sometimes the status quo that had become comfortable and familiar, through whatever the circumstances maybe, gets turned on its ear. And yet, no matter the circumstances that seem to bring us to some kind of change, for good or not, in our lives, we can always start over from where we find ourselves in the moment.  

The little book is also a source of strength. It’s the kind of book you pick up when you are puzzling over a particular problem, or need some guidance here or there, or when you wish you, or life, could have been more of this and less of that. No matter maintains the book’s message, always we can begin again. Perhaps not quite in the way we did before, or in the way we were before, but we can begin again. And what’s more, states the plaque, as if to get in the last words, we can begin anywhere. 

And so here we all are: called to remember that every day is a new beginning, and to be prepared and willing to simply begin anywhere. Or, as my parents used to say, “Don’t just stand there, do something!”.”

To begin could mean delving into the familiar, perhaps a chore you’ve been putting off, such as cleaning out the basement or garage, or your filing cabinet. That last, I’m happy to say, I’ve begun tackling.  To begin could mean starting something new, like a long thought of project such as painting the house, or creating an art piece, or…well…. you can fill in the blank. You know well what you have been putting off, and you well know when the time comes to do something rather than just stand there.

Such it was for Jesus arriving in his home town, Nazareth.  While he was born in Bethlehem, he grew up in Nazareth and it wasn’t the easiest town in which to grow up. Kind of off the grid, one could say, with Roman persecutions of the Jews daily news, much like hundreds of other similar towns dotted around Galilee. 

Jesus has been making his way through the countryside with his disciples creating a reputation for his gifts for teaching preaching and healing. So, when he arrives in Nazareth, he is given the royal welcome home treatment. Just about everyone knew him and his family as he was growing up, as he began to learn the carpentry trade from his father, and now here he is, home to stand and teach to them, their very own home-grown rabbi. Joseph had passed away by now, but Mary was there along with all the self-appointed aunties and grandmothers who helped Mary as she raised him. All are expectant, eager and probably very proud of their homegrown boy made good.

But when Jesus warms to his subject of the need for repentance, humility, grace, non-judgement, non-jealousy, and all the other “nons” he meets with resistance and more than a little skepticism.

So much so, that after a while of trying to reach the hearts and minds of these people he knows so well, he is compelled say, 

“Prophets are not without honor, except in their home town, and among their own kin, and in their own house.” 

I can only imagine that Jesus was young enough to be amazed at people taking offense to someone leaving home and coming back with information and authority. Not only that, one can easily imagine a young man becoming a bit hot under the collar at this unexpected, radical reaction to his teaching. However, his response was recognition and acceptance of this reality and to decide to begin in a new direction based on what he, himself, had learned from this experience. 

He left Nazareth and continued on teaching in various villages, and when he was satisfied that his disciples were ready to take his teaching of repentance out into the world, he sent them out two by two to do just that. It was not an easy assignment, but it was the beginning of the priesthood, the beginning of what would become the Holy Gospel and the scriptures of the New Testament. It was an act of letting go of being the star of his own show and if Jesus had not entered into that phase of his own priesthood, we would not have the opportunity to read about the experiences of them all. 

It was a gutsy move, a risk, a noble act of humility, and a great deal of love and confidence in the disciples’ readiness to call for repentance, to cast out demons, anoint and cure the sick. Jesus sent them, not knowing what the outcome might be, but warning them not to tarry in places that did not welcome them.  He would never be far from them, but he would let them find their own way in their own way. He would let them begin anywhere they felt called to start, rise or fall, win or lose.

We think of Paulas we heard him today: analyzing, over-analyzing, doing verbal trigonometry in his head, finally finding a way to get up and begin anywhere again when the Lord finally said to him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” Our modern translation might say, “power is made perfect in humility.” Time to drop the egos, drop all the needs, wants, and desires that will make us feel more comfortable. For, as God reminds Paul and as Jesus instructs his disciples, you don’t need to take a lot of unnecessary baggage with you on your new journey, physical or metaphorical, just your faith, trust, and love. And, yes, Jesus probably said to be sure to share stories, and have a little fun at the end of the day. Jesus was, after all, still young. 

We never know what the outcome of any of our decisions may be. We can plan for outcomes, hoping and praying that the decisions we make work out for the best. Sometimes they do, sometimes, not. Yet, whatever the outcome, we resolve to continue seeking God’s guidance, holding fast to faith in God’s sufficient grace.

On this Sunday, God has called Mother Jaime and all of us here at Christ Church, to begin wherever we find ourselves in body, mind or spirit. As is usual, the congregation is back in its sanctuary it knows and loves, exchanging familiarities, taking it places in its favorite pew. But something new is in the air. Something has gone missing, and something has shown up. And that, my friends, is a new beginning. It’s happened before, it is happening again, and it will not be the last ending or the final beginning.  

But this is a new beginning for this congregation, just as it is for me, and on this Sunday, we hear the voice of God whispering throughout this sanctuary, “My grace is sufficient for you.” God doesn’t change and continues to welcome each of us into new sweet communion with each other, sharing the Eucharist and offering God’s peace to each other in whatever way, and whenever we like to offer it. 

My call to serve in this place is not a call fashioned by me or by Mother Jaime, it is fashioned by God through the movement of the Holy Spirit. And what a blessing! Sharing in this Holy Sacrament and gathering into this sanctuary of God peace must be just about the best way for anyone to begin again. 

As I began my ministry at Grace Memorial, nervously walking into the unknown, I immediately noticed the phrase carved into the entry steps of the church, “My grace is sufficient for thee.” And, as I prepared these words for you today, I read the same words, just as Paul heard them in the midst of his confusion, “My grace is sufficient for you.” Well, if that isn’t the movement of the Holy Spirit, I don’t know what is!

In the coming weeks, we will take time to look around to see where we want to go, what direction we will take and how we will follow it. Like the disciples before us, we will just not stand there, but we will begin again and begin anywhere and do something. What that something will be will emerge through the power of the Holy Spirit.  

For now, then, let us join together, moving forward in God’s love and very sufficient grace, to see where our steps will lead us.

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

July 7, 2024 

Year B Proper 10

2 Samuel 6: 1-5, 12b-19

Ephesians 1: 3-14

Psalm 24

Mark 6:14-29

Bible Stories

Just in case you think the Bible is too highbrow, today’s readings

should help to dispel any of those misperceptions. Murder, lust,

seduction, domestic strife -- who needs the movies!

These Bible stories are not the ones we heard in church school….they

are the parts of the Bible, Old and New Testaments alike, which most

church school teachers never mentioned. Although apparently, they

thought stories such as Jonah being eaten by a whale, or Daniel being

thrown into jail with the lions, was ok for young, impressionable

minds.

No. Today’s stories are for grownups. Stories about the rich and

powerful run amok, stories of manipulation, the misuse of power, and

hidden crime. Grownups know all about these kinds of stories. They

weren’t new thousands of years ago, and they’re not new now. We

live with them every day. But these are not fighters in our urban or

modern-day streets. Or so-called leaders, throwing their weight

around, or shooting bombs at innocent people. No, these are the titans

of the Bible who are dishing all this up.

We can probably all remember learning that the disciples were

jockeying for first place with Jesus…. let me sit on your right, let me

sit on your left, me, me, me, me first. The disciples were all trying to

be first, to be the favorite of Jesus, to be the greatest 1 . And we see this

wanton need for power played out today. Everybody who’s anybody

in politics, on a competitive career path, and within conclaves of fans

and admirers, backers and supporters for all various reasons always

have, and most unfortunately, always will, search to be first, to be the

most admired, to be famous, to get the glory, to be the “one.”

David was anointed to be the “one,” the ancestor of Jesus. And, since

he has the power to do it, he is moving the Ark to his new home in

Jerusalem. The Ark, built by Moses himself, was the deep and

profound focus of the Divine Presence of God to the Jewish people.

So, David, filled with overwhelming joy at this blessing, honors God

with dancing and music.

In the process, by his public display of abandon, he endears his people

to him even more and they are even more blessed by David as he

feeds them with abundance. David has the power to treat his people

according to his will. He can treat them well to keep them loyal or he

can use his power in other ways to gain his own ends.

Just over a thousand years later, Jesus is pointing out to his disciples

that the ones they think of as leaders or rulers, or ones with authority,

really want to lord it over them…and be tyrants. In other words, they

are out to grab power and if they have to step on their people to get it,

they will. Jesus was talking, of course, about Herod.

Well, we have to have someone to head up government, we have to

have someone to run the company, the store, the church, So, we have

kings and presidents, CEO’s and COO’s, the store owner or manager,

or whoever it is we call “the boss.” All are given the responsibility to

uphold the values of their chosen constituencies and most probably

work hard to do that, keeping the common good in mind. All this

being true, however, most also know that their visibility depends on

how powerful they are perceived to be, and that to uphold a position

power takes work.

The higher they are, the more they stake their future success on how

they are perceived, and their legacies, too often, have more to do with

how well they reach the pinnacle of success than how much they truly

loved their neighbor. Of course, I’m generalizing, but I think we

grownups might agree that retaining power is a full-time job and that

rulers, be they kings or presidents, or bosses of whatever, will

sometimes, may I say, do what they feel must be done, in order to

maintain and protect their position of power,

Each of today’s Bible stories bring home the point. David was

married to Michal, who was a princess of Israel, the daughter of

another power-guy, Saul. She knew her way around powerful men.

She was David’s first wife and at first, she loved him. As King of

Judah, David had five more official wives, each of whom bore him a

son. I’m not counting unofficial wives and concubines, and all this in

a little over 8 years. But I digress… that’s an entirely other story.

Today, we have a mini story about power. Saul wasn’t thrilled about

David, but just to show who was in charge of the situation, he ordered

David to bring a bride price from his deep enemies, the Philistines.

He ordered David to bring one hundred Philistine foreskins.

The push for power is on, and David can taste the role of king. He

accomplishes the deed. (I’m glossing over that part of the story.)

Michal helps David out of several plots Saul has planned in order to

kill David, and so the relationship between Saul and David is split and

they and their descendants become entrenched in the struggle for

power and the kingdom. Saul breaks his word to David and marries

Michal off to another. Saul is killed and David makes a deal with her

then husband to return her to himself. The soon-to-be poor ex-

husband is devastated but David doesn’t care. He wants Michal and

Michal he will have. He sends her first husband away, and Michal’s

heart becomes hardened against the man she once loved. I mean it’s

not easy to keep up with them all. Is this what Bible soap operas are

made of, or what!

It does seem fair to say, however, that knowing this, one can

understand Michal’s feelings as she saw him take all his clothes off in

full sight of all the slave girls. She couldn’t stand seeing him, in what

to her eyes, seems undignified and unworthy of the King of Judah.

She was disgusted, even though David was glorifying God by dancing

with abandonment and joy. And so, as Samuel tells us, she despised him.

David was king, and David was blessed by God. If that’s not a power-

packed ego booster, I can’t think what is. He was on top of the world,

possessor of all he could touch and see. He was a blessed man,

alright, and I’m sure we can find people in our own time who would

consider themselves blessed with power.

The problem is that when people think of themselves as blessed with

the powerful position they have, they begin to think it is because of

who they are, rather than someone who has received the blessing or

trust from another, especially when that “other” is God. They begin to

forget the source of their power.

In David’s case, he celebrated God in a most visible and unforgettable

way, using his power to do anything he wanted in the name of God’s

glory.

Yet privately he forgot that all he was, and was created to be,

depended on God. The slippery slope David climbed upon, was his

forgetfulness about God’s part in his success. The slippery slope

grabbed David, as if it were the devil itself, and down he went into an

abyss of sin and shame.

Then there’s Herod, a far less likeable character than David, and not

blessed so much by God. Herod became king as an accident of birth,

not by God’s blessing. Mark reminds us that Herod was hearing more

and more about Jesus, and his popularity with the people, and he

found himself surrounded by differing opinions about just who this

Jesus was. Somehow, he became convinced this person was John,

whom he beheaded. We can suppose this is what guilt can do to a

person.

Mark tells us how this came about and presents us with one of the

grisliest stories in the Bible. The background story has Herod taking a

kind of liking to John the Baptist at first. He is impressed and not a

little awed by him. All was well, until John voiced the problem of

Herod marrying his brother’s wife, Herodias, illegally. So, of course,

Herodias is not a great fan of John’s. She waits for just the right

moment, when the king is a good mood, with his court around him,

and enjoying a lovely dance by his daughter, another Herodias. And

what well-pleased and proud father has never said to his beautiful

daughter, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it?”

I like to think that if their daughters asked for the head of the local

priest, those fathers would stop short and send the child to bed without

further ado. But not Herod. The difference is power, or the warped

sense of need for power. His need to save face after making the oath

to give his daughter whatever she wanted, in front of his wife, his

court and anyone else within earshot, leaves him little choice but to

play to the crowd, to do as he swore to do.

One can’t help thinking of Pontius Pilate in another story. He, too,

had a public to satisfy.

So, we are left to ask. When will any of this kind of thing end? It

isn’t showing much sign of easing up any time soon. Here we are,

witnessing the same thing all over our world today.

However, my friends, when we find ourselves beginning to think this

is what normal living is all about, a game of struggle for power, for

fame, status, and visibility, we are called by God to remember the One

we call King. Our One God. Our Alpha and Omega, before whom

we would willingly dance for joy, would willingly play music and

sing again, as soon as we are able.

Our king is the one who gives us untold power, rather than taking that

power upon Himself. Our king brings the power of love into our

hearts, so that our joy may be complete. That we may not fear any

adversary. Our God is the One who chose us as His own adopted

children, from whom we inherit eternal life, and from whom we

receive all the spiritual blessings and who covers us with the comfort

of His grace. It just doesn’t get any more powerful than that! It is a

real and absolute call for celebration and dancing in our hearts, minds

and souls in any way we choose.

We are left to ask ourselves. Who do we know, or see, or watch on

the evening news, or on whatever social media feed you prefer, who

dare to” dance before the Lord?” How often do we see anyone letting

it all go with abandon in order to celebrate a new beginning, a new

and special blessing in life due to an awareness of God’s presence?

What part of you is your David, longing to leap and shout for joy for

the blessing of your God? And what part of you do you know to be

Michal, holding back, not wanting to recognize, or enjoy another’s

response to God’s blessings?

We are left to ponder, to try to recall when we actually have, like

David, allowed our hearts to leap and dance for joy at the very thought

of God. When have we ever allowed ourselves to let go and let God.

And when we did such a wild and crazy thing, did we notice a Michal

staring at us disapprovingly, and did we stop? Or putting it another

way, when has your Michal prevented another from fulfilling their

urge to celebrate? Or when has your Michal prevented you from the

same?

Herein lies the secret to our own stories. What do we know of the

David and the Michal that dwell within each of us? Who is your

Michal speaking to when she sees your David yearning to dance to the

music before God?

I believe we are called to dance like David, even if it is only in our

hearts and minds. We are not called to dance for our God, we are

called to dance because of God, through God and with God, with our

feet, or our minds and with our hearts. And, thus, as God’s own

children we can feel truly blessed, knowing that, like David we are

forgiven for our mistakes, our mis-directions and our forgetfulness,

and God loves us even more when we try, try again.

David was blessed, and he celebrated that blessing. But I’m not so

sure about Herod, yet I’m pretty sure he shouldn’t have messed with

John the Baptist like that, and that, for once at least, he could have put

his need for power aside, showing a little wisdom rather than cruelty.

Too bad, Herod and Pilate, too. You may have felt powerful at the

time, but anyone, even the local folks could tell you, you need to get

your head straight before you put someone’s head on a platter

just to impress everyone with your power to do it. And, you’d

better get your facts straight, too, especially when you give in to

popular trends to crucify someone’s body and soul.

So it is for all of us. To bow to power rather than to the common

good, too often leads to the death of someone’s soul. After all, for

all the thousands of years to come, if you bow to power at the

expense of someone else’s heart, you won’t look powerful at all.

The way history tells it, you’ll look exactly like the Herod’s: past,

present and future….powerless, petty, and pretty darn pathetic.

So love, laugh and celebrate all the powerful alternatives you

have for your own legacy… to be remembered only for your

gratitude, humility and faithfulness to the one true leader in the

world today, who will never lead you astray: Father, Son and Holy

Spirit, One God, now and forever.

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

July 14, 2024