Sermons

11/23/2025

Christ Episcopal Church

Christ the King Sunday

Jeremiah 23: 1-6

Psalm 46

Colossians 1:11-20

Luke 23:33-43

Sweet Gratitude

It is Christ the King Sunday. A day that marks the end of our liturgical year. A day when we close a door and turn to open a new one. It is a day of endings and of new beginnings. Christ the King, the one that we also know as “shepherd.”

For me this Christ the King Sunday seems to bring with it a particularly poignant and very real array of endings and beginnings. It is filled with complexities, just as are the scriptures we have just heard. Like Jeremiah calling out our inabilities to keep God’s sheep together. For Jeremiah the word “shepherd” was a word that could have a double meaning…..one who leads. If you are acquainted with Jeremiah, you will know his opinions of those kings he regarded as total failures to lead in the name of justice in his time. Jeremiah’s kings lost their way, led by their lust for money and power.

Then, on this day when we want to celebrate as the Reign of Christ, Luke is taking us all the way to the cross, perhaps to confuse us or maybe to remind us about how much we still have to learn.

In a way, I wish I could talk to Luke on this Christ the King Sunday. If I could, I would try to explain that this is the day we want to celebrate Christ, not mourn Him. We want to celebrate God’s people, not feel guilty because, somehow, we lost track of who we and they are through some unknown negligence on all of our parts.

Yet, the one thing we can be sure of is that this day, this day dedicated to all that Christ was, is and will always be to faithful Christians is that the reign of Christ is not a reign built on money, power, fear and injustice. It is a reign of peace which calls each of us to live our lives peacefully with faith under this Christ the King.

WE are reminded, even without all these scriptural complexities, that we still live in a complex world and it’s not just here in St. Helens or Portland that the complexity is being felt. The vulnerability felt around the world, caused by challenges most people didn’t invent, is being thrust on every single one of God’s people. It’s personal, but not just for us. No matter the cause of it, the shape of it, or the reality of how close the danger of it might be felt by any one person, anywhere in the world, there is an air of instability or vulnerability that the vast majority of humankind did not sign up for.

To follow this Christ, we are called to love our neighbor, to see value in every creature created by God, human, non-human, of every shape and size. Above all, we are, each in whatever way we are able, to stand for justice and to work with God toward God’s restoration of all God’s people in all walks of life.

Be they church goers or those who simply have not yet learned to turn to Christ for hope or comfort, all God’s people who have heard of Christmas begin to feel a stir of anticipation and a change in the air with the coming of Advent.

On this Christ the King Day, the faithful sense the coming change. The long days of turning our shoulders to the plough during Pentecost have come to an end for this year. Jeremiah reminds us of our communal commitment to God to do our part, and if we do, says Jeremiah, God will guide God’s people into God’s comfortable fold called Christ Church St. Helens And for that we must be grateful and for that we must ask for guidance in understanding our part and for the determination to persevere in the work before us. Maybe we could call it the Jeremiah project. Bring the old prophet up to 2025 goals and expectations.

No matter how we think about it, on this Christ the King Sunday we are, each one of us, called by God to offer a new commitment to God and God’s Church.

It sounds easy on the surface, yet a call by Christ to build His church is complex and carries within it the resistance to change, to letting go. This resistance is all mixed up with intention, resolve, humility and yes, even faith.

Thus, it is fitting, perhaps, even more than usual, we are to listen with the ear of our hearts to the core of meaning throughout all our scriptures today. All the scriptures point to our need for faith in order to live fully and completely in peace and with love, and there is a prescription for finding faith in each of them.

Someone asked me, just a few days ago, about how to define faith, or recognize faith in such a messy and complex time of living.

It’s a fair question. We live with change that seems to come before us faster every day. We live in an age of change that is reported to us in every instant, often in the very instant that change happens. That is the difference between our lives of faith and that of the early disciples. Their world was just as complicated, just as filled with war and hostility, with corruption and political division, misunderstanding, judgment and strife. Their lives were just as much in peril from disease or hunger or poverty, or by simply being on the wrong side of the fence at the wrong time, as the vast part of our world is today.

They knew and lived through all the same kinds of fears and discouragement as we do. They lived with rumor, heresy and judgment, with oppression and unjust power. They just didn’t hear about what was happening outside of their immediate world as much or as quickly as we do. So, for them, the world problems, were much closer to home, and so were felt just as personally or seemed just as close, as they do to us.

News travels fast in tight communities and the disciples were aligning themselves visibly to this Jesus preacher, causing a stir in their midst and their dedication and devotion to Him placed them in clear critical danger of the authorities.

Just like us, the disciples, perhaps with deepening devotion, and others coming to know Jesus for the first time, perhaps new to the faith, were learning to reconcile faith with their daily challenges and struggles.

Perhaps the lesson they pass on to us is that it is not faith that is challenged by the world, it is our inability to find God, or find our gratitude to God, in the midst of all the harsh complexities in the world, be they personal or writ large on the world stage.

But find God and find our faith, we must. That is our challenge. Sometimes, we have to take the time to consider our faith, how meaningful our faith life is to us, and how we practice our faith. We have to take the time, however much we feel we cannot afford to take even a few minutes for ourselves.

Three years ago, I was in Scotland for my youngest son’s wedding. After the wedding festivities ended, I spent two nights alone up on the East coast of Scotland in a remote stone cottage facing the North Sea. For one day the sun shone, the sea was calm, and all seemed very simple, relaxing and easy. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, a storm arose and the sea became cold and hard looking and suddenly violent as giant waves crashed upon the shingles of the shore and the wind howled around my little cottage.

Excuse the cliché, but in such a moment like this I experienced on that rugged shore in Scotland, I realized the truth of the matter: nature is like life, life is like nature…..we have moments of calm and peace and then the storms come and we have to steel ourselves against the raging wind. In that beautiful but harsh environment, it was as if nature itself was teaching me to measure the depth of my faith. It seemed to test me, as if asking a question about the strength of my faith, strength that was so much easier to find during calm days absent of danger.

The raging sea, clearly so much more powerful than I, seemed to laugh at my human weakness while at the same time taught me to strengthen my resolve to be guided by faith and trust in Christ, as new and unexpected challenges rose up before me.

I learned that, even through the storms, I could find God in that remote place. To be sure, during the calm periods, with bluer skies and mere breezes, it was easier to find God and thus easier to talk to God. Besides some rather uninterested sheep, there was simply no one else and literally nothing else between me and God. It was as if God were standing there in front of me….crashing His waves near my feet, wind blowing across my face so that I would have to pay attention. And it was easy to do. There was nothing else between us. We were face to face.

I remember thinking how I must always recall how easy it was to pray there, and that when I returned to my other part of the world, how I must always remember how easy it was to talk God in that environment…… about how important it is to remember how easy it can be to talk to God in Christ’s name, even when the loud noise of the world confronts you again, and the storms of life rage around you, so that you feel vulnerable, helpless and small.

Today, it is Paul’s words to the Colossians that seem to capture what it is we must consider today, as we keep walking forward into tomorrow, into a new chapter in the life of our church and perhaps new chapters in our own lives that follow in the wake of all the change happening around us.

Paul urges us to hang on to our faith, no matter what. No matter how hard life can be, pull on God’s power to find your strength.

By submitting to, and holding on to faith in God’s powerful presence to you, you will not only be able to endure anything with patience, you’ll have the glorious opportunity to be filled with sweet gratitude and peace. Paul reminds us that, as children of the light, we are redeemed by our God. Christ died for our sins and we are forgiven, and now, in faith, we are made free to forgive. What a gift, to be able to freely forgive as we are forgiven. How freeing for the soul to empty one’s heart of all that bars the way to simple trust and faith. What a way toward a new beginning.

Just as he was speaking to the people in his own time, Paul is speaking as much to the problems of real churches with real people in our own time. He is speaking to people who are struggling to understand how to hold to faith in real-time turmoil. He is speaking to real churches with real people who were struggling to understand a new kind of faith and being committed to it. He is speaking to a worldview that has always begun with Christ, is still shaped by Christ and will end with Christ. For Paul, Jesus is the world view. While, we need to keep informed of all the complexities in our current day to day existence, in order to survive, perhaps as never before, we would do well to heed Christ’s words.

Perhaps on this pivotal day between the ending of one chapter and the opening of another, is the very best day to bid farewell to all the doubts and generously invite the new. It is the very best day for us to view all the change that is coming to us today through the lens of Jesus Christ, and not through the lens of the world.

What an opportunity to simply forgive those who might have trespassed against us and, we pray, might forgive us, too, for our own iniquities. What a perfect day to reflect on our gratitude for all things visible and invisible that bring us joy and peace, knowing that all these come as gifts from our Creator God.

What would Paul say to our modern-day version of politics, social constructs, philosophy and changing family dynamics? He would say that no matter what your circumstances, you must strengthen your faith, or if you need to find renewed faith, you must position your life in a new way. It is Christ who will give you what you need to pull together all the strands of day to day life that threaten to overtake you in 2025 and in the time to come.

Because God is the Creator of all things, visible and invisible, and has dominion over all earthly things and all earthly rulers whether they like it or know it or not. He was before all things and it is through Him all that was scattered will come together. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning of all things and the end of all things and is the One we turn to, in faith, to find our way home to peaceful living.

The thief who hung dying on a cross next to Jesus, prayed to Him, “Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.” And Jesus said yes. When you pray to me, I will lift you up from your cross and I will take you with me into Paradise.

How wonderful those words must have sounded to the thief on the cross. What gifts to receive in the moments of one’s greatest fear. Forgiveness, redemption, mercy and grace. Those words are for us sinners to receive as well, every moment of every day.

As we address all the myriad challenges we face today, we must ask ourselves one simple question before every decision we make, “Does this decision place Christ at its center?”

Because, my friends, Christ must be at the center today, as always……on this day of endings and beginnings. On Christ the King Sunday, it is always a good time to make your own personal assessment of your priorities in relation to your faith. What are your endings which need your faithful attention? What resentments, regrets or hardness of heart must end? What is broken that must be mended? What is it that you must let go in order for you to experience truly new beginnings in Advent?

As God’s own beloved child, if there is anything else at the heart of your decision that is not Christ, then take sober stock of what it is and make it your business to reorder your priorities so that Christ is not only at the center, but is, above all else, first in your life.

Make Christ front and center with your next step forward, so that you, too, may experience the sweet gratitude that comes from faith in God’s peace amid a tumultuous and changing world, or all its kings, will never, ever, figure out how to provide it.

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

November 23, 2025

11/16/2025

CHRIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH

22nd Sunday after Pentecost

Job 19:23-27a
Psalm 17:1-9
2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17
Luke 20:27-38

TRICKSTERS

Last Tuesday evening I visited Trinity Episcopal Cathedral to listen to assorted readings, along with musical interludes from Dante’s Inferno. We were mostly treated to the Hell part. The part where Dante, terrified as he is stalked by a leopard, a lion and a wolf, is then found by the poet Virgil, who will be Dante’s guide through the afterlife. They meet on the border of Hell, and if you are familiar with Dante’s poem, you will know of all their strange and frightening encounters.

The magnificent Rosales organ at Trinity absolutely crashed us all to attention with its deafening discordant sound of the Prelude to our evening. We sat in darkness with only candles set amid flickering blue and red lights climbing up and over the chancel walls, which were lit red like the heart of hellish fire. It was great!

During their wanderings Dante and Virgil find themselves among people living pointless lives, then encountering Charon the Ferryman, ferrying lost souls across the river to Hell on the far bank. They came to the place called Limbo, the place for so called virtuous heathens. Do you know any of these? Then they met the Lustful, before they came to the ditch of False Counselors and their trickery during the Trojan War.

As I sat almost transfixed through the entire performance, it was the False Counselors, the tricksters, who caught my attention as I remembered the tricksters who would be highlighted by Luke in our Gospel reading for today.

Luke’s false counsellors are the Sadducees, speaking to Jesus in the midst of his ministry around AD20 something. We quickly recognize them easily as those in leadership who try to wrangle what they want to hear today in order to find fault with truths that could undermine their influence and power. We hear them trying to trap Jesus, as he is speaking and preaching to people crowding around to hear him. They want to test him and have him fail in front of everyone. They want to prove he is not worth listening to. So, they ask him the convoluting question about a widow marrying seven brothers, asking in conclusion, “In the resurrection, whose wife will the women be?” (v.33).

Now there are questions and there are questions. We ask questions to learn, to comprehend, or to analyze and understand. Then there are questions meant to challenge, to gain an advantage or to shame. It was these latter kinds of questions that were wrapped up in the scenario the Sadducees presented to Jesus in front of the crowd in order to demean Jesus, to prove him an unworthy teacher.

In a way, the Sadducees are treating this entire confrontation as a kind of trickster joke, something to laugh about over dinner later. They are rich with money, power and prestige with absolutely no depth of interest or compassion for a woman being passed from brother to brother. It seems a grim and tawdry tale at best, and one can almost picture the Sadducees’ grim smiles of satisfaction at the complexity of their question put to this preacher they had been hearing about. So, their question is sort of a scornful, yet intellectual trap. It is a trickster question.

But Jesus isn’t having any of it. He knows very well the Sadducees do not believe in the resurrection and their question to him is a direct challenge to his teaching of the hope the resurrection provides. They quote Moses teaching about levirate marriage. Levirate marriage being that practice where a man is required to marry his deceased brother’s widow, and which while rare, is still practiced in several tribal cultures in Africa and Asia, as a means to protect a widow.

Yet, rather than trying to form an answer to the Sadducees, Jesus simply responds through his own teaching about the differences between earthly ways of ordering things and the nature of heaven. He elevates Torah, the only scriptures adhered to by the Sadducees, explaining to them just exactly what Moses meant, as it was written in Torah, that Moses heard the voice of God speaking to him from a burning bush saying, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.

The Sadducees question to Jesus began with the words, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us….” Jesus, without rejecting the scripture responds with intuitive imagination, explaining as if to little children, God did and does not say, “Once upon a time I used to be the God of Abraham, Isacc and Jacob, and now they are no longer alive, I still remember them well.” “No,” continues Jesus, To God, all are still alive.”

Whereupon Jesus drives his point home by saying that their example question dealing with the earthly laws relevant to levirate marriage just doesn’t hold water to anyone living in the world today because such a notion has no meaning in heaven. Indeed, continues Jesus, for the faithful, who believe in a living God, understand that their faith leads only to life in God, even after a seeming end to their life on earth. They are, concludes Jesus, “like angels and are children of God…..and cannot die anymore as children of the resurrection.” (v36).

Luke does not share with us the looks on the faces of the Sadducees. While Jesus honored their beliefs, he recognized the game plan presented in front of him and smartly put them in their place.

Rather than trying to figure out a pithy answer to his adversaries, Jesus chooses the moment as a teaching opportunity. He speaks to death as the end of many things we understand and know on earth. However, the faithful know death is not the end of everything.

Last week we honored the Saints and the Souls departed this life, but alive in the Spirit, alive to us, leaving us a promise that death does not mean the death of God or the death of life in God. One of St. Paul’s many companions, Timothy, described God as immortal, living in “unapproachable light” that cannot be seen. To Timothy, God was incomprehensible, far beyond our little understanding. With such witnesses, how are we to say our God is dead?

Our God is not a God of the past. God doesn’t speak to us the past tense. Our God is as present to each of us as we are to one another today in this sanctuary. Ours is a God of the present moment and a God of eternal presence. God is present to each of us when we call upon God’s name. It is the very nature of prayer. Our private prayers as well as our communal prayer is our way of entering into a universal and eternal place where God, Son and Holy Spirit reside. Ours is a God of hope for the living, in this life and in the face of death. God is and always will be the God of forgiveness, liberation, love and hope.

It is a hope that is rich with more than we can possibly know or understand outside of heaven for heaven and earth never have been nor ever will be the same in nature. As we learned last week during the reading of The Beatitudes, heaven is where the oppressed will be restored, those who have been put down will be raised and women who have been ill-used will be among the first to be called beloved.

All God’s creatures are called the children of God and as the children of God, we are children of the resurrection moving forward into a new kind of peace and a new kind of joy that is so very, very hard to reach or understand on earth. For those of us who seek the answers to life and death, we do so in faith, knowing the things on earth simply are not the same as are things in heaven, that God’s ways and God’s judgments are not like any of those drummed up by God’s earthly creatures, and we give fervent thanks for that.

It is with faith we are called to love one another, and we continue to do our best to honor the commandment, even though we don’t always measure up. St. Paul said, “love never ends” (1Cor. 13:8). I believe his words are true and we are well aware of how our love lives on after those we loved in this life move on before us toward the great mystery of life in God.

This difficult and complex piece of scripture leaves us perhaps with more questions than answers and we wish Jesus could reveal everything about God and heaven to us in a way we can readily understand in worldly terms. And yet we know straight from Jesus’ words that God’s faithfulness to us is immeasurable and without end and it is within that divine immortal faithfulness that we embrace all that God has given us in life and all that death will present.

Having read the scripture laid before us today, as I sat in the cathedral darkness, listening to the verses from Dante’s poem as he was led through Hell, and parts of Purgatory, I couldn’t help pondering if my fate would be the same, knowing all the while, in faith, it would not be. We are none of us perfect and we all have our share of sins, racked up knowingly or unknowingly. Like Dante, we are not alone in this. Yet, regardless of our mistakes in life, God continues to love us.

The evening was coming to its end, and Virgil and Dante moved through countless traitorous souls trapped with icy fields, finally coming face to face with Satan himself, with Judas, Cassius and Brutus, all of them captured in the gaping mouths of Satan.

And suddenly, after more discordant crashing, the organ moved to soft, melodic phrases. The lighting turned from fiery red and blue flames to soft shades of pinks and greens, giving way finally to a field of stars, as Virgil and Dante descend through the icy depths into the center of the earth, only to find themselves ascending at last leaving Hell far behind them.

The audience sat silently though out the Postlude, and not until the last echoes of the last notes receded were we able to let our collective breath go and give joyful applause for the triumph of heaven over earth yet again.

As we quietly dispersed out of the cathedral into the pouring rain, we felt comforted in this heavenly triumph. It was, indeed, a happy ending in the same way that Jesus leaves us with the same happy ending in his answer to the Sadducees. As God’s own children, we will never be forsaken by God, in life or in death. We have countless examples of this our faith and tradition throughout our scriptures and in the words of countless others of our time. We do not walk alone, and we do not have a trickster God.

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

November 9, 2025

11/9/2025 Sermon

CHRIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH

22nd Sunday after Pentecost

Job 19:23-27a
Psalm 17:1-9
2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17
Luke 20:27-38

TRICKSTERS

Luke does not share with us the looks on the faces of the Sadducees. While Jesus honored their beliefs, he recognized the game plan presented in front of him and smartly put them in their place.

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

November 9, 2025

10/10/2025

Christ Episcopal Church

The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost

Proper 14

Isaiah 1:1, 10-20
Psalm 50:1-8, 23-24
Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16
Luke 12:32-40

Clean Hearts

“Create in us clean hearts, O God. And sustain us with your Holy Spirit.”[1]

This should be our every-morning prayer to God, who like every good and loving parent, has had it up to here with those who call themselves the children of God. When God just mentions Sodom and Gomorrah everyone goes on alert. Our hearts sink, our bubbles burst, and we are left immediately thinking the worst.

As a priest, I can’t help wondering why on earth the liturgists who designed the lectionary for us, chose the hottest time of the year to place a piece of scripture that essentially says, God is fed up with your way of worship, no matter what denomination you are and how much air conditioning you had to sacrifice in order to come to church. Clearly, the scholars were not thinking about 100 deg. weather. Clearly, they considered that only the faithful would continue to venture outdoors on such a day in order to worship God.

And yet, for those of us who do make our way to the sanctuary, no matter the climate, perhaps it is well for us all to hear the word of a less than gentle God as a reminder of why we are here and what it means to call oneself faithful to God and for all of us who call ourselves Christian.

While Isaiah’s words were spoken to a different congregation in the 8th century before the Common Era, his words are a true reflection of God’s Spirit and their intent echoes through the centuries to meet us where we are today. So, it is our place to listen, to hear and to be open to what it is that God really wants of us, beyond our prayers, our offerings and our worship.

I say “our” because it is our collective selves to whom God is speaking. It is to God’s church that God’s demands are made. To be sure, we have come far from the kind of practices, such as animal sacrifice, that took place in Isaiah’s time, but we still have our own rituals, and we cling to them fiercely.

Regardless of our denominations, there are similarity of ritual that 21st century Christians hold dear. And, at the end of the day, it is not really these rituals that God is fed up with. It is the gap between what we say we believe, what we promise on our knees, what we hold to be faith-filled truths on Sunday, and what our actual actions and practices are, come Monday through Saturday.

God is railing against our oppression, our injustices and a multitude of other sins, known and not thought of, that become insidious bridges between our words and intentions of faith-filled worship and our instant readiness to enter into all that God would call monstrous.

That our first reaction is “who me?” is not shocking to God, but is certainly a symptom of our own shock at God’s assertion of our participation in oppressive and unjust behavior. Aren’t we all good law-abiding citizens and faithful attendees to the house of God?

Much of a preacher’s job is to soften the rhetoric in such a way that it becomes more palatable to a listening congregation, but this week’s scriptures leave very little room for that and, perhaps, it is for the best. Every now and then, scriptures must be allowed to wake us up, cause us to sit up a little straighter, startling us into attention, and even, yes, leaving us feeling a bit offended. Even so, we work to interpret and translate from the context of the text set down in its own time and place, into the world today as we know it in our own way.

It is hard to think that God is saying I hate everything you do and say on Sunday mornings, including your preaching, and if you think that’s what I want, then you’re sadly mistaken! And yet, here we are listening to the first words of the very first chapter and verse of the very first book of the Prophets and it turns out to be a devastating attack on what we think will please God by our blend of ritual and worship.

Take note all those who decry the hypocrisy of religion, God has beaten you to it! And why?

Is this a simple temper tantrum from God to God’s ancient people having nothing to do with us? I wish we could say it is. But God’s reaction runs much deeper than a simple temper tantrum.

God is railing against the very real disconnect between our prayerful intentions, our vows of justice, our praise and prayer, and our total inability, or forgetfulness, to adhere to God’s command to love God and neighbor. It is when our neglectfulness or inattention to injustice against God and neighbor which delegitimizes our worship and praise, that God is assaulted.

For to not love God with all one’s heart, soul and mind, and to not love one’s neighbor as oneself, is deemed by God as a total desecration of God.

Thus, cries Isaiah, from God’s viewpoint we are hypocrites. Just as we feel when we betray, or are betrayed by one another, at any level. When words are not spoken with sincere love or affection, are hollow and meaningless or worse, are meant to hurt or destroy, we have ventured outside of our covenant with God to simply love.

In bottom-line terms, worship is not true and, indeed, becomes a lie, when it is unconcerned with justice and love. And here is the slippery slope to which we unknowingly allow ourselves to be led. Having worshiped on Sunday, having loved and prayed against all manner of injustice in Sunday, having loved our neighbor for an hour on Sunday, we are too often so filled with the sense of having “proved” our faithful coherence to God’s commands, that we fail to notice how quickly our hearts are emptied of all our good intentions as soon as we leave this sanctuary. Instead of holding on to hearts made clean by God’s absolution, they become sullied and dulled by a false sense of closure and pride.

Could it be, that even within the sanctuary itself, we allow a measure of forgetfulness to slither in and around the pews and the very altar upon which we focus our worship? Sort of allowing that smooth-talking serpent that has led humankind away from awareness of God since the beginning of time into our own awareness?

Just imagining this, does it not compel us to want to cleanse the very temple in which we sit and the worship place that dwells within each of us?

Do we not want to renew our approach to worship, to re-engage our wonder and awe in such a way that we feel the Spirit of God moving and working within us in such a way that we never want to be without the knowing of it?

Do we not want to feel that life-giving engagement with God, giving us, in whatever way we are able to receive it, the ability to transform the world and our community just a little?

Do we not want to assist God in God’s continual re-creation of God’s Kingdom?

Isaiah’s words fail to offer this counterpoint, but we must not mistake God’s intention. It is through our presence here today, and through our worship and through our listening to the Word that we are given the opportunity to make the adjustments we each must make in order to please God.

In a few moments we will have the opportunity to confess our weakness to God, not only for ourselves alone, but for our communal self and God’s universal Church communal, and to pray that our hearts will be cleansed and made free to go forth to do as God commands us to do, and that our worship will give us enough strength and renewal to last far longer than one hour or one day.

To God, the meaning of true worship is how we actually live our lives as a result of our communal worship rituals on Sunday. To walk the walk and talk the talk is an understatement. If one is to call oneself a Christian, one must think, walk, talk and live as well as we can in our world, like Christ. Any other way is to belie worship to God, and we must do the very best we can with God’s help. It is our Baptismal Vow.

And yet the barriers of worry, perception and need to be held in good worldly light continue to distract us from our awareness of God’s request of us. Do you worry that people will think less of you of you defend the Gospel or offer perceptions to the world that reflect God’s teaching? Are you allowing yourself to be so caught up in life’s uncertainties that you are caused to disregard others with very real needs.

Are you so afraid of being without that you hoard your possessions and are disposed to hang on to them at all costs, even when you have no need, or further need of them? Is the idea of “worrying” about clothing or food really about what is or isn’t more expensive thus better, or what is or isn’t deemed a sign that one is successful in the eyes of the world? At the very least, are you so afraid of your own abilities to keep the so-called wolf from your own door that your need for self-protection and well-being invite your priorities away from the needs of others. Building bigger barns to store our earthly riches is not bettered by making sure our purses are thief proof or moth proof out of fear which begs the question, what are we so concerned about in life? We are to understand that all we need, accumulate or posses in this earthly life is as fleeting and transitory as is life itself. Does worrying only about yourself belie the very trust in God that you profess in your prayers?

Christ tells us not to fear, and not to worry, because God’s good pleasure is to give us the kingdom, which is already given to us.

Yet Jesus’ words are not meant to provide a warm comforter for the last word of difficult scriptures but rather as a reminder that life, as we know it on earth in the 21st century, need not define who we are or how we live. If we place God first, if God is our priority and leads our thinking and our doing, then nothing in the world will entice us away from God’s loving care.

The reign of God in heaven has now been inaugurated on earth by Jesus through his own ministry and is thus made clearly accessible to us. In other words, it is God who has lordship over our human hearts, our minds, our values and our ways of moving and being. In a way, all this is a continuation of the teaching we learned last week, when we asked ourselves just what it means to be “rich toward God.”

We can and should expect the unexpected. Through all this faithful watchfulness and through all this faith-filled awareness of our actions at every moment of every day, Jesus reminds us, when describing the return of a master who finds his servants alert, “he will … have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them.” (Luke vv.32,37.) Amazement and surprise is what the master’s servants experienced when their master finally appeared and turned their expectations inside out by serving them, rather than having them serve him.

We are called to recognize in every moment that life itself is an overflowing, abundant gift of God, which can be tossed away with abandon if neglected or ignored. It is a gift which cannot be received or shared with grasping hands or clenched fingers. It is received and held as Spirit-filled generosity by faith-filled hearts which are always awake and aware.

“Create in us clean hearts, O God. And sustain us with your Holy Spirit.”[2]

As we pray these words, may we never forget Isaiah’s prophetic words of God as a reminder of God’s longing for our faith-filled partnership with God. “Let us reason together…..though your sins are like blood, they shall be like snow…though red like crimson…they shall be like wool….if you are willing and obedient… you shall eat the good of the land…. But if you refuse….”[3]

I leave it to you, to fill in the blank.

Amen

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

August 10, 2025

[1] Book of Common Prayer, p 98.

[2] Book of Common Prayer, p 98.

[3] Isaiah 1:18

09/14/2025

CHRIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH

Jeremiah 4: 11-12

Psalm 14

1 Timothy 1:12-17

Luke15:1-10

LOST AND FOUND

In a New York Times article entitled, “A Pub Crawl through the Centuries,[1] the author spoke of a good pub as that being a home away from home, the kind of anyone is welcome at any time. So, it isn’t much of a stretch to imagine Jesus in the neighborhood pub, eating and drinking with anyone who wished to join him. People like tax collectors and sinners, ordinary folks from all walks of life, from all different backgrounds, experience, successes and failures, with varying levels of faith, if any, or doubts, or lack of understanding. To be frank, people sort of like us.

And, just as we would if given the opportunity, the people around him are gathering close around him, are listening to what he has to say, to hear his teaching, just as we did today, gathering around the Gospel to listen to his parables about being lost and being found.

Among those surrounding Jesus, there would be some recognizable sinners, and who in the history of mankind has honestly loved tax collectors? During Luke’s time, it was the Pharisees and scribes who are offended by the company Jesus is keeping, especially since it is clear the people are not only listening to Jesus they are hearing him too. For Luke, ‘hearing” is to be interpreted as a sign of repentance or conversion. We often use the verb “to hear” as to mean, I “understand”, or I “get” it.

In the same way, perhaps noticing body language or intensity of the eyes, the Pharisees and, other of those considered religious insiders of the time, were becoming suspicious of what Jesus was talking about, because they had already written off the people around Jesus. They considered them sinners beyond redemption, which is another reason they are grumbling and muttering to themselves with disapproval. In their minds, no self-respecting Jew would speak to these kinds of people, let alone sit to eat and drink with them. To do so could damage one’s reputation and social status. It just wasn’t done.

Jesus, of course, was well aware of the Pharisees and scribes wandering around the periphery and was quite aware that his teachings were not only offering hope for his listeners, but they also served as direct criticism of these who called themselves the religious authorities, the rule setters, the boundary setters and those who enforced the holiness codes of clean and unclean. So, there they were, keeping tabs on Jesus and his radical hospitality to those considered to be living life on the fringes without belonging anywhere.

The stories Jesus is telling seem straightforward enough for the people and for us to understand. The first story focuses solely on one lone sheep who is discovered missing from the flock and the shepherd who goes to find him, stopping at nothing until the missing sheep is found, whereupon he hoists the sheep on his shoulders and comes home filled with joy and eager to rejoice with his neighbors to celebrate the one who was lost but now is found.

Similarly, in the second story, Jesus describes how a woman has lost one of her treasured silver coins. One can imagine her coin was valuable enough to buy sizeable piece of meat or perhaps a sheep, and she sweeps and sweeps until she finds it. Once the missing coin is found, she is so overjoyed, she calls her friends to come and celebrate the finding of her lost coin.

Each story clearly has a profound cause for celebration, but just what is it we are to celebrate? The lost being found, or do we celebrate the one who never gives up the search until finding what was lost?

While the stories seem straightforward, just as we have come to expect from all the lessons we have learned from Jesus, his stories are never as simplistic as they seem on the surface. Within these parables there are several themes to consider. First, as we’ve heard, the Pharisees and the scribes were not happy to see the tax collectors and sinners coming “near” to Jesus, thus threatening the power of the religious authorities at the time, and causing them to grumble about what they were seeing.

Also, it is important for us to consider the difference between welcoming and saving, which are profoundly different concepts running through these parables. We know that the core of the stories has to do with searching for and finding something specific in each one: a sheep and a coin. Often, that is the extent of the story for our simple human hearts.

Looking at the same stories through God’s heart, we can understand the joy in finding one lost soul, who has felt for whatever reason, outside and lost to the reach and care of God. We can understand, and indeed, some of us may have witnessed the long, loving and determined reach of God. The God we know who will crawl into any thicket to pull His lost one to safety. The God who we trust to crawl into any dark space we find ourselves creeping into, to find us and lift us up and out in order to enter the safety of God’s arms, made ready to enter into the world anew.

And, it makes no difference to God that the nature of the one who is lost varies between people, circumstances, situations, or whatever has happened in the past. For instance, while a sheep has the capability to bleat and call out to the one searching for her, she will most likely curl up in a ball in silence, in order not to attract predators. She is unable to assist in her own rescue because of her own fear. Some of us can become like lost sheep.

A coin, of course, is inanimate and unable to be heard or to shine so brightly that it can be spotted. It is, absolutely, dependent upon the dedication and diligence of the one sweeping and sweeping in order to find it. Even when we have no means of being heard by the world, God will never give up searching for us until God finds us. Some of us can be silent like a lost coin.

We might have heard it said that to be found by God is to be saved, which raises a question. Is God’s search a search to save or is it a search meant to welcome? To save is one thing, to welcome is another. Jesus would teach us to be watchful that we are not more comfortable with saving the lost, than welcoming those were lost and now found. The word “saving” conjures up a meaning having to do with power. The word “welcoming,” however, has to do with a kind of intimacy, with community, with belonging, with hospitality. God will search, find and welcome. Those of us who wish to follow Jesus, and who wish to come nearer and nearer to God must do the same.

At Christ Church, as within any church, we are called to welcome the ones on the margins, the confused, the wayward, the misunderstood and the lost, or may I say, the ones already found by God who has led them to be welcomed through our doors. We are not called to save them.

Even so, we are called to search, search, search until we find. The stories we heard today were about dedicated and diligent searches. About going the extra mile, even when hope might be wavering. The hard work that a search requires might well be crawling through metaphorical brambles to find a sheep or sweeping and peering until a coin is found. Whatever the search requires for us, here at Christ Church, it does mean working hard to discover whatever it is that people need from us, whatever it is that will help people feel no longer lost, whatever it is to help them feel filled with a completeness that is hard for them to describe, but what it is they long for.

We are to search, search and search some more, with limitless dedication, until we find and they discover. We are to welcome whoever it is that has been lost. When found and welcomed into our community we, too, will rejoice and call all our friends to rejoice with us.

Yet, before we make the mistake for branding ourselves as sinless, and all others sinful, we are left with the question: just who are the sinners? Don’t we all, we sinners, confess our sins out loud for God and anyone to hear, praying heartily for mercy? “Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; ……..” You know the prayer.

God defines sinners as those who need and seek to repent and those are the words we use. And just to clarify, the word “repent”, really means to change one’s mind. It is when minds are changed in such a way that one finds comfort in community that one is lost no more, has been found, has been welcomed and community is complete. Part of our work for God is to keep searching for that lost, and God knows, while there is breath left in us, we are to keep searching.

Jesus understands the struggle of being “lost.” Jesus understood, and understands, how it feels to be separated and how hard it can be to find one’s way into community, acceptance and loving welcome. Today we have an example of how not to turn away from, but to turn toward the lost, to search and when found, to welcome them home and to call everyone to celebrate, rejoicing in their return,

We are none of us exempted from taking part in any of these stories. When we are being judgmental about the other, or when we decide who we will associate with, keeping our images in mind, we become a bit like the Pharisees or scribes in Jesus’ parables.

When our faith begins to waver or our trust begins to fade, we find ourselves becoming lost among the thickets or face down on the ground. It is when we are willing to enter our own winding corridors of self-truth that we discover facets of ourselves which cause us to change our minds, to change our hearts.

Our absolute truth always remains elusive to the world and even to ourselves. Some truths are still hidden within each one of us here today and within all God’s people. Even as we creep closer and closer to hear God’s words, we are still mere sinners and the truths remaining still deep within each of us will be discovered only by the masculine God who never gives up on searching in the toughest of places and the feminine God who will sweep and sweep until satisfied that all is clean.

May we never be lost. And may we always search and search through the thickets of life and the ground around us until we find and welcome home the ones who are.

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

Esme J. R. Culver+

September 14, 2025

[1] Henry Shukman, ”A Pub Crawl through the Centuries,” New York Times, April13, 2008

7/13/2025 Sermon

The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

Proper 10

Amos 7:7-17
Psalm 82
Colossians 1:1-14
Luke 10:25-37

Neighbor in Waiting

There is a wonderful iconic Kurt Vonnegut quote, some of you may well know, in his book “A Man Without A Country.”1 A young man asked the prolific writer of novels and darkly humorous viewpoints of life, “Please tell me it will all be okay.” The question immediately brings to mind the lawyer asking Jesus how to achieve eternal life.

“Welcome to earth, young man.” Vonnegut said. “It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, Joe, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of: Dammit, Joe, you’ve got to be kind.”

You don’t really need to be a Christian in order to know what it means to be kind. You probably don’t even need to be a Samaritan. The parable that has become a universally known story describes a kind someone who comes to the aid of another. We could say, good enough. I’ll do my best to be kind and to help out others when they need it and strive to love my neighbor with God’s help.

Yet, while we are expected to offer help to those who depend on the kindness of strangers, the parable of The Good Samaritan has far more meat than just a feel-good story demonstrating the degree to which we are to care for each other. It isn’t meant for us to be continually coming to the aid of the vulnerable, but it is reminding us not to ignore those who need our kindness and compassion as we pursue the intent to live as good Christians. The story not meant to make us feel guilty when we pass someone by, but it was meant for us to be aware of when, where and for whom our assistance is being called.

This parable sees us all still on a journey, not just from birth to death, but from birth to rebirth, from living life in a minimal way to living life abundantly. The road through life is filled with dangers and challenges and today’s Gospel prepares us to face those challenges by connecting our hearts to the heart of God and to the hearts of our neighbors and our mutual compassionate and kind need for each other.

Jesus is still making his way toward Jerusalem when he encounters a lawyer who wants to test Jesus. The lawyer asks an odd question “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” In other words, how do I continually move toward life rather than death. Some of us can’t help but feel offended on the part of Jesus. On the one hand, the lawyer’s words could seem challenging, almost taunting. On the other hand, the way the lawyer asks his question may be simply the words of one studying Rabbinic law or the question of a faithful heart holding a need to know. If the lawyer had an answer to his question that he could understand, well wouldn’t we all, deeply religious or with only passing interest, feel more assured, as he would, of deeper intimacy with God now and at the time of our earthly death.

Jesus responds with his own question “What does the law say?” Whereupon, the man who is clearly a scholar of Torah answers, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.”2

We can find those very words in our Rite 1 Holy Eucharist during which Jesus reminds us that on these two commandments, loving God and loving neighbor, hangs all the law and the prophets. In other words, it’s not just doctrine, not just law, but reminders from God and God’s prophets of God’s own most critical commandments. It is the law and it is the Gospel. There is nothing gray about its black and white reality.

Jesus, still taking role of the teacher, clearly likes the lawyer’s good knowledge of Torah and his answer and he commends the lawyer. “You have given the right answer; do this and you will live.”

But now the lawyer wishes to qualify the law to ensure he understands just who his neighbor might be. Does the law, he seems to wonder, apply to everyone. Just who is my neighbor? And by asking Jesus the question, there seems to arise, at the same time, an implicit request or desire to know who isn’t my neighbor? According to me? According to God?

Hence the story of a journey down the lonely, bandit-ridden road between Jericho and Jerusalem. The man, whoever he was, shouldn’t have journeyed alone and who know why anyone thinks they are invulnerable in the face of danger. And so it is, the man is attacked, beaten, robbed and left for dead. Then others come by. We don’t know whether they, too, were traveling alone or with others. Nevertheless, first comes a priest, followed by a Levite, each one quickly assessing why they should not interfere with whatever is going on at the side of the road where the man is clearly in trouble. Just like the lawyer, they each knew the law. The man seems to be dead and if priest or Levite were to touch him, they would make themselves ritually unclean. Their deep belief then was that they needed to keep themselves pure in order to be able to worship. And anyway, both probably knew that on this road, the death scene could be just that. A set up scheme, a trap meant to rob people who came to find out how to assist a dying man. Best and smartest to keep moving on. And, thus, both men moved to the other side of the road, probably walking a little faster than normal, heading on toward their destination.

Enter the Samaritan. In the eyes of all Jews, a contemptable enemy, who worshiped God in a very different way than did the Jews. We learned last week that the contempt was felt in both directions, as Jesus warned the disciples whom he sent out into Samaria to proclaim the Good News. Indeed, the disciples returned saying they were not received, which was no great surprise to Jesus. Even so, remember when James and John wanted Jesus to all fire and brimstone down on the enemy, Jesus rebuked them.3

This parable teaches that a Samaritan, Jew, Muslim, Evangelical, Baptist, Episcopalian, Orthodox and all the others that claim they have the right way to worship, does not walk on by. He is not caught up by his own piety and personal doctrine. He is a bigger man his personal preferences and is “moved by compassion.” He doesn’t care really if this is a trap, because he simply cannot, in all good conscience, simply pass by. I like to think he was prepared to defend himself if, indeed, this was indeed a trap, and that he had a contingency plan. Nevertheless, his heart and soul became filled with the call of God to respond, and he did so.

Quickly assessing that this really does appear to be a life and death situation, he sets about administering immediate relief and personally takes the victim to an inn, we don’t know if near or far, ensuring that he will pay whatever is needed in order for the man to rest and recuperate there.

By his action according to God’s law, the Samaritan has received eternal life. It is his to live in the here and now in this life and in the life to come. “There is no greater love than this: that a person would lay down his life for the sake of his friends.”4 And what is a neighbor if not a friend, or a friend, if not a neighbor? For to love God is to love neighbor is to love God. We get it.

Perhaps the story is universally known, because underneath the weight of all the world’s bravado, its politics, its opinionated positioning, finger pointing, shouting and screaming, at the end of the day, all know that they could, should and might well cross the road to help another, even the enemy, and God knows, as do we all, that some actually do. Sometimes they pay a price for their compassion, sometimes they even give their life, knowingly or unknowingly, but everyone and God knew and knows forever, who it was that crossed the road.

As we continue to travel on between our birth and our earthly death, between our own Jericho and our own Jerusalem, we will have many an opportunity to stop to help a stranger along the way. But more than this, we travel with the powerful and transformative love of God which never fails the faithful.

The answer to Jesus’ question about what is the law is easy enough for the faithful. The lawyer got the right answer, and I dare say, any one of us would have the answer ready if asked. However, the living of it and acting out of it, is probably the most difficult law we are called to truly follow. There is no sliding through a stop sign, just because you can plainly see that there are no other vehicles in sight. There is no sliding through any aspect of living. Jesus has given us a law that requires everything we have from us: our total and absolute commitment, our continual and searching discernment, and above all, our dependence on the faith that whatever free will we possess will find its guidance through the power of the Holy Spirit.

We think we know how to pray and yet we simply forget to pray, we think we know how to love God and yet we forget to think about God, we think we are humble and yet we continually battle the fight for recognition for our earthly, and even our godly actions. We think we know how to love our neighbor. Yet we are missing a vital element that dwells deep with love itself. The lawyer came close when Jesus asked which of three passersby he felt was a true neighbor. The one who showed mercy, he replied. “Go and do likewise,” said Jesus.

Perhaps, in order to deepen our understanding of what Jesus is teaching us in this story, Jesus is underscoring that our love, just as God’s love, when it is given unconditionally as life-saving assistance, whether physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, is given to someone the giver would not usually choose.

The Samaritan and the Jew held similar views toward God, but came at them in a very different way, just as, for instance our way of worshipping versus a Muslim’s approach to God. God knows, the Abrahamic faith traditions: Christian, Jewish and Muslim faiths are similar but different. We may think the differences do not lead us to suspicion, conflict and hatred, yet we are mistaken. So it is with politics, socio-economic divides, diverse expression and all manner of differences between ourselves that serve to divide and build barriers erected with suspicion.

So, we are called to continually ask ourselves, what must it take to be moved to compassion, where all division, suspicion and conflict ceases to exist, and where only a positive outcome for a victim is desired. It is not a story of religious division, but a story of one singular adherence to God’s law for human compassion and compassionate humanity at work in the world.

The injured man had no choice but to accept the assistance of the Samaritan which leads us to only one conclusion about a neighbor in waiting who may exist at any moment in our lives. Perhaps today. The neighbor may not be someone you know or love, but someone whom we love through God. It is not our decision to make about who we will help or who will help us. It is a Gospel decision, led by the love of God working in faithful hearts, who know no other course to take than to freely give. As it is written in John’s first letter, “We love because he first loved us.”5

Assistance given through love to one unknown, the neighbor in waiting, inspires love, creates compassion and propels kindness.

And we never know when to expect it to be given or when it shall be received.

God knows, that if I ever find myself lying in a ditch, unable to help myself, and someone speaks to me in a language I do not understand, wears clothes that are not the norm with a belt that carries some sort of weapon, and when I look into the face of this one who’s eyes are filled with compassion, I will know him or her as my neighbor and give loving thanks.

Amen

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

July 13, 2025

6/8/2025 Sermon

Day of Pentecost

Acts 2:1-21

Psalm 104:25-35,37

Romans 8: 14-17

John 14:8-17, 25-27

Real Spirit

Some people think the Holy Spirit is a dove. But it’s not.

Some people think the Holy Spirit is the wind. But it’s not.

Some people think the Holy Spirit is fire. But it’s not.

What is a dove anyway? It is an easily identifiable white bird with a soft cooing sound, soothing to the ear. It doesn’t squawk or honk or even twitter or tweet, it coos. When the dove coos, it seems as if it is speaking directly to you, with a soft, gentle tone. It murmurs, as if appealing to your better senses to speak with equally gentle tread as you respond to the world around you.

And what of the wind. How does one define it? Is it not just a natural movement of air, moving at varying speeds and velocity, horizontally around the earth as it spins? It can be felt on one’s skin as a slight stirring of air, moving into a slight breeze, thereby providing relief on a warm day, perhaps carrying with it a sweet and pleasant aroma of roses, or new mown grass. It can be gusty, stopping and starting, taking one by surprise, as hats suddenly fly off, or papers become strewn across the back yard, flying in this direction or that. The wind can be biting when the air is frosty and can howl like the Hound of the Baskervilles, when caught amongst the trees, and when the wind really lets loose, it can move those same trees right out of the ground.

Fire is nothing to be played with. It can be a single candle flame, like those we see here, providing a path toward and into the prayerful sacred. Or one can imagine a fireplace with its flames warming man and beast, as well as the atmosphere inside a home, providing a welcoming message of safe and sure hospitality. But let loose of its boundaries, it can burn and consume, taking whatever it encounters down to its roots, leaving no other recourse for nature than to rebuild itself and to learn from the experience.

So, who was it then that first supposed the Holy Spirit was one of these? A dove, the wind, fire? Certainly not the Apostles.

According to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, when Jesus come up out of the waters of Baptism the heavens were opened to him and He saw the Spirit of God, descending LIKE a dove and alighting upon him. It was the Holy Spirit that entered into Jesus on that day, just as it enters into us in our own time, LIKE a dove. Sounding sweetly, gently, full of love, perhaps adding a soft timbre to Jesus’ voice, a cooing, healing sound, soft on the ears, encouraging to the soul.

The Apostle John spoke more than most about the wind as Spirit. However, he didn’t say the Holy Spirit WAS the wind. He said, “The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so IS everyone who is born of the Spirit.”[1]

But John wasn’t the first to recognize the power of the breath of God, the Ruach that reaches into the very heart of all it encounters. It was the Prophet Ezekiel who told of the Lord’s instruction that he should prophesy about the breath of God. It was Ezekiel who obeyed the Lord by prophesying that God’s breath would come from the four winds to breathe new life into the lifeless.[2]

The Holy Spirit says God, is LIKE the four winds, moving through this world according to its own directions, finding opportunities to reach into our hearts and souls, bringing new life into each, already so deadened by the daily news and the catastrophes that assault, the earth and all that is on it. Like the four winds, the Holy Spirit breathes new life into us in order that we may rise again, at the beginning of each new day, to keep on doing the work we have been commanded to do by God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Luke’s message in the scriptures from Acts we heard today, speaks of divided tongues AS of fire, appearing among the apostles and coming to rest upon each of them. And suddenly, there they were, filled with the Holy Spirit, speaking in differing languages, some of which they never knew they understood. Of course, the tongues of fire weren’t actual fire, if they were, they would have kept burning, turning everything they came in contact with on fire too, including the Apostles! We give thanks that such was not the case, and that the Apostles lived to tell the story of how they received the Spirit. They were direct witnesses of its power and have told us how it gave them the words they needed to turn indirection and indecision into active ministry with such breadth and depth that they were able to establish Christ’s Church on earth and begin a movement we know as Christianity.

The question that remains for us all today, is how on earth did twelve men, mostly simple fishermen and lowly peasants, set the entire world on a course that would move like the wind, carrying a soft message of love, and yet, with the power to set hearts on fire in such a way that the world would be changed forever. How did they do it, we ask, in such an oppressive atmosphere, in a world that was ready to stamp them out with murder, torture, stoning, and prison. How did they persevere through shipwrecks, earthquakes? How did they reconcile the real from the surreal as they encountered angels, conspiracies and conversions? And here begs the greater question: why can’t we do the same today!

Just as we clarified the true meaning of the Holy Spirit, perhaps we can begin to answer the question of what we can and must do today by clarifying what this relatively new entity called the Church is and what it is is not.

First of all, we must stop thinking of the Church as an institution and start thinking about it as an organic entity. We don’t think of our bodies as just a bunch of cells. The Church is not just a oddly sorted collection of human beings. Just as your heart and soul is the life of your body, so the Holy Spirit is the life of the Church. Today we commemorate the birthday of that organism we call the Church, which lives and breathes today in ways the Apostles never dreamed it would. It just needs to catch a little more of the fire that descended upon the new-born Church at the time of the Apostles, so that it can add a little more fire to its message to the world of our own time.

This ancient story is deeply relevant to us and the world we live in today. Our world is just as hard and unpredictable as it was then: filled with corruption, violence, false pride, entitlement and immense sadness, despair and need. The story of the Holy Spirit holds within it the guidance and direction for turning the Church and the world upside down yet again in a new way, in a language all can understand, no matter their heritage or culture.

It is the same Church as it was then, moving to electrify the world again with the Holy Spirit as its power source. It carries the same good news and the same last commandments from Jesus Christ, “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations.”[3]

To do that, we need to allow the Apostles to teach us about total trust and forward-thinking optimism. There is nothing standing in our way to achieving the same kind of spirit-filled success in turning the world into a more livable, loveable place other than our own lazy complacency. Jesus made it abundantly clear. He had brought the message from God to the Apostles, had shown them by example how to talk to people, how to heal hearts, now to turn hatred and revenge, hopelessness and fear into renewed hope, forgiveness, love and courage. And now it was time to leave them, as He had left them before, saying again,

"If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you."

Easy enough for them, you say? But how? Would it be better if Jesus were to walk down this very nave at this very this moment, and say exactly the same thing directly to us as He did to the Apostles? No. When he spoke to the Apostles, they didn’t really get his meaning at the time, any more than we do. It was when He sent the Spirit among them, that things began to make sense and must for us.

We welcome the Holy Spirit joyfully, because it is the Spirit that lives within us, not outside of us. It is the cooing voice of the dove, the rushing wind of insight, and the fire in the belly that gets us moving in the right direction; that stirs us into action with verve, energy and passion, whether we are up and about or sitting down.

The Holy Spirit moving within heart and soul is intimately involved with us, knows us, understands us, is inclined to let us know when we should be up and at the work we are called to do. Intimacy is the nature of love and the Holy Spirit is the nature of God’s love story to the Church and its people who are called to keep it real.

Thus, we have no excuse to sit back and survey the state of the Church today, wringing our hands and listening to the pessimists who think the Church is old news and dying. The message from Jesus hasn’t changed, and the need for the Good News to be spread anew into the world from the heart of a new Church hasn’t changed.

"I have said these things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid."

God knows, we need Jesus, but the Holy Spirit, as part of the Triune God is as necessary as Jesus Himself. Just as, in order bring light into a darkened room, we need to plug into the power that generates electricity, so we need the Holy Spirit to plug into the power of God through Jesus Christ in order to be empowered into action and to live the kind of life as did Jesus Christ and as did the Apostles and the early Church.

It is the secret power of the Church which too often gets ignored, neglected or just plain forgotten. But no more. Remember that through 2,000 years of persecution, saints and martyrs, as well as profound doctrine, infallibility and consistency, she is now ours to care for and move forward. Only God, working inside her, not just on the outside or alongside, through the power of the Holy Spirit, can perform the miracle of revival in our age, in the same way as she has been revived in the past.

It is up to me and to you, and to countless Christians around the world who are celebrating the arrival of the Holy Spirit today. It’s our turn.

On this Day of Pentecost, let us get with the Spirit by understanding fully what the Holy Spirit isn’t and what it really is!

It isn’t a white bird that flies from tree branch to tree branch, it is LIKE a dove, soft and sweet, loving and kind, gently urging hearts and souls into lovingly moving the hearts of souls of others.

It isn’t a breeze or even a tornado it is LIKE each one, and every kind of movement of air in between, delivering caresses that awaken, blowing hard against the sins of the world, and cleansing all that stands in the way of love and grace, and LIKE a tornado or a hurricane, blasting at hatred, racism and all forms of bigotry with passion and purpose.

The Spirit isn’t a candle flame or a wild fire, but it is LIKE each and every kind of fire in between. It can light up one’s urge to pray, it can warm cold hearts and homes, and can rage with passion, with no fear of push back or containment.

The Holy Spirit comes to us in all of these ways, at different times, and in different places and circumstances. What is the measure of your Spirit? Are you ready to receive it, however it wishes to present itself in your life at any given moment? As a dove descending within you, as wind that cleanses all that must be cleansed, or as fire, filling your soul with passion to do God’s work in the world, left in trust to you by the prophets, by God, by Jesus Christ and the Apostles.

At the start, “…When He had said this, He breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’”[4]

And, guided by the Holy Spirit, filled with the REAL Spirit, they did their part in this story of the Church, the rest is up to us.

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

June 8, 2025

[1]John 3:8

[2] Ezekiel 37:9-14

[3]Matt. 28:19

[4]John 20:22

6/1/2025 Sermon

Acts 16:16-34

Revelation 22:12-14,16-17,20-21

John 17:20-26

Psalm 97

Jailed

We have come to the last Sunday of Easter, the time of Ascension and Jesus, conscious of the limited time he has with his very human disciples teaches them and teaches us how to pray. Not only does he give us a set of how-to’s when it’s time to pray, and it never hurts to be reminded of the how-to’s and how not-to’s every now and then, Jesus reminds us of the purpose of prayer – what we should be praying for. What our prayer should be about, and perhaps most significantly, how we are to understand prayer. We’re pretty good at hymns praising God, and singing the alleluia’s during Easter. We sort of understand the psalms, and our communal prayers are mostly about people other than ourselves, which would probably get us a blue ribbon if there were community prayer field trials in heaven. However, Jesus isn’t talking about any of these. It is our deeper understanding of private prayer that Jesus is addressing today, as He has in the past.

If we need to be reminded how to pray, we can simply follow the pattern set by Jesus, filling in our own petitions as appropriate. For example, today’s Gospel from John relays the prayer Jesus prayed when he was with his disciples. We notice that he isn’t just praying just for his own disciples, but for all those who have reached true faith, who dare to believe, for all those who are growing in their faith, all those who will one day find their way to complete faith in God and everyone else, regardless of who or what they currently believe. Jesus was praying for the whole lot of us no matter how well we hit the mark on God’s prayer score board.

We don’t have to be as pure as the driven snow. We don’t have to be perfect. We’re human, with eyes that don’t see the truth, ears that don’t hear it, and minds that prefer to order up our own version of the truth even when the honest-t0-God truth is standing right in front of us.

God knows this and it was with this knowledge and understanding that Jesus prayed for his disciples before leaving them.

It wasn’t the first or only time Jesus spoke about prayer. You may recall Matthew’s Gospel reporting Jesus’ cautionary teaching to all of us, "And when you pray..."* wherein Jesus teaches us what to do and what not to do or say when we pray.

The Matthew passage encourages praying in private, teaching us to avoid vain repetitions, and not to forget offering up the Lord's Prayer as a good example of prayer, since the prayer emphasizes the importance of seeking God with humility and sincerity, rather than for public recognition.

We don’t pray to God to fix the furnace, or make it stop raining on the day of the picnic, although these might happen in a way we did not recognize as an earthly fix. Perhaps, most importantly, we are to be especially cautious about asking God to help us become something that God did not intend us to be.

We don’t pray to false idols that we have somehow built up over the years and that bear our own names. Empty phrases won’t be rewarded, wearing your piety on your sleeve won’t be rewarded, and giving long explanations of your circumstances won’t get you far either. As Matthew reminds us “….your Father, who sees in secret will reward you.”[1] Prayer is not about getting God to take sides for any reason. Prayer is about thanking God for God’s guidance or for any of God’s possibilities God has presented in your life.

As your faith deepens and your belief in God’s presence in your life becomes more apparent, then prayer takes on a far wider reflection of your gratitude for God’s abundance of gifts which are all there waiting for you to notice and receive.

The greatest error any of us can make is to think that God is there simply for us and has no interest for anyone else. John’s Gospel recalls for us that when Jesus prayed, he prayed for everyone, praying that all could be living less as islands unto themselves, and more to be living as one with others, united in a common language of love. Love for God’s gift of life, love for oneself and love for all others, no matter who they are, their circumstances, where they are in their own faith journey, or how they operate in the world. The very fact that they are in your world, makes them completely acceptable to God, and therefore, to you.

Hear John again as he quotes Jesus: “"Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them." And, again, to paraphrase more of Jesus’ conversation with God, ‘…..I have given them glory as you gave me glory that they all may be one.’

That we all may be one. Not just me, not just you, but all as one. No matter where you are in your faith journey, no matter the degree of your belief, Jesus says you count just as much as I think I count.

The neighbor who bugs you counts. The tent person counts. The migrant worker counts, the people trying to make sense of things all over the world count, and if we never learn anything else from Jesus’ words, we need to get this. That what we have heard today, straight from Jesus’ mouth, is at the very core of all His teaching. God’s desire is for us all to be aware of God’s consistent presence in our lives bearing forth the equally consistent desire for us to have love for one another. It’s a simple request, and it is one of the hardest practices known to mankind to achieve. Nevertheless, God wants us to give it a try.

The disciples were acutely aware of God’s presence as they were making their way to a place of prayer. On their way they came across a slave girl who seemed to be clairvoyant and whose psychic gift was making good money for her owners. She clearly recognized Paul and the disciple as devotees of the “Most High God.” The girl continued to identify the disciples as godly and Paul, for whatever reason, commanded the spirit within her to come out and be quiet. The spirit, however, we might describe it today, was quieted and, of course the girl’s owners were incensed at the loss of the income stream the girl’s psychic powers kept constant, and they brought the disciples before the magistrates accusing them as law breakers, turning the crowds against them. Paul and the other disciples ended up receiving severe floggings after which they were thrown deep inside a prison, with their feet firmly fastened in the stocks.

You would think they would start praying to God to get them out of the unjust and unexpected circumstance they now found themselves in. One moment they were on their way to the synagogue, and next thing they know they are in prison. Even so, they did not pray for escape, nor did they judge, blame, regret any of their earlier actions. Rather, they simply sang hymns and prayed to God as the other prisoners listened to their words and witnessed their evident faith. Their prayers were not reported by any of the disciples to be prayers for God’s intervention in the unfairness of what had happened to them. They simply continued to trust in God by singing hymns of praise and continuing with their daily prayers.

Suddenly, in the midst of an earthquake so powerful that the very foundations of the prison were shaken, doors were flung open and the shackles which had held the disciples as captive prisoners were sprung open, freeing the prisoners.

And we heard the rest of the story. They stopped their jailer from killing himself because of his feelings of negligence. The jailer became a believer in God, was baptized, and all his family rejoiced. Yeah, Alleluia!

After such a story, we are left to ask ourselves. Who or what is driving us into prison? And who is our jailor and what does it all have to do with prayer?

Are we too quick to blame others for our circumstances? Too quick to judge others for their part in contributing to our circumstances? As the years go by, do we erect higher and higher walls of all descriptions in order to protect ourselves against recognition of who we really are? Do we feel a need for these walls to defend ourselves, even in prayer? Do we pray only for ourselves or for those closest to us, or do we pray for the stranger or the ones we don’t understand? Just as importantly, do we dare to repress our need to love these more than even ourselves? After all, what Jesus is asking of us is no easy task. Isn’t it so much easier to blame, to judge and to defend ourselves rather than to simply ask for God’s guidance in judging ourselves.

As Pilate famously asked, “What is truth?” And as the old adage states, “the truth will set you free.” Pilate asked a valid question. And the old saying is just as valid.

What is the truth about the walls we so quickly erect around our boundaries of self-preservation? We all have them in varying heights, those walls. Some are built lightly. Some are built with thick concrete. We are each called to examine the protective walls we so carefully put in place to hide our own truth, not only from ourselves but from each other. What is it that we have so skillfully denied to ourselves that each wall of our denial becomes thicker and taller as we gain more experience and our denial mechanisms become more sophisticated? What is the truth about us that God knows yet we choose to hide deep inside?

It's a lot to consider and think about, and yet the way we pray and what we pray for holds the answers we seek. Whatever our circumstances, Jesus is asking us to pray to God to guide us into the way of truth about our circumstances. Has the truth that seems true to us, not considered the truth of another’s circumstance?

God desires only to guide us into a way of being that loves God, loves all others and recognizes that we are all one in God. Perhaps a simply request to God for God’s help is all that we need to begin to understand God’s purpose for us in the here and now and in the future.

It is when we pray to God to free us from all our defensiveness, all our pride and our prejudices, that the shackles that have been binding us will be broken open and we will be free to be who we truly were meant to be. Gifted and glorious, giving glory to all the gifts given to each one of God’s creatures, giving prayers of gratitude for the gift of recognition toward ourselves and toward others.

What a blessing it was for Paul and the disciples to be set free so that t hey could bless and baptize the former jailer.

What a blessing it will be for us to feel free of our own manufactured jailer and our self-imposed shackles so that we are finally able to love in the way that Jesus taught.

Will it be easy? No.

Will our prayer to God to reveal the truth we hold within to be set free be answered in the way we expect? No.

When we pray to God to free us from our built-up walls of denial, will we notice changes that slip into our actions and reactions that bring us contentment and freedom to love? Yes.

Will there be more joy in our life? Yes.

Like the disciples gone before us, let us not hold back on prayer. May we pray to God to use us for the building of God’s Kingdom on earth.

The answer each one of us will receive about how we are to go about that will not be easy for any of us, but it will be true.

St. Francis of Assisi loved all creatures and his prayer, which is not ascribed to him, yet is associated with him, perhaps by those who knew him to be a man of prayer seems a good example of what Jesus is teaching us.

The prayer is about peace, our need to sow peace in the world, to be God’s instruments of peace. Notice the direction of the prayer, how outward looking it is and notice that it’s request is for God to use the one praying for good and glory of God’s Kingdom.

Here is the prayer:

"Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is discord, union;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.

Eternal God,
Grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console;
To be understood, as to understand;
To be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life."

The prayer emphasizes the importance of being selfless, seeking to comfort others and to understand the perspectives of others. It is about loving unconditionally and recognizes that forgiveness and generosity are rewarded, and that through dying to ourselves, we find our very own truth and our path toward eternal life.

With unfailing belief in God and praying with unfailing desire to be all that God wants you to be, your prayer will be heard and the walls you may have built up over time will come crumbling down. Freed at last from the jail of all that binds us, there will be nothing to stop our path toward unconditional love of God and all God’s people.

And when that happens, Jesus’ prayer for unity in God’s Kingdome will be answered too.

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God
E J. R. Culver+

June 1, 2025

[1]Matthew 6: 5-13

5/25/2025 Sermon

Sixth Sunday of Easter

Rogation Sunday

Ezekiel 34:25-31

Psalm 67

Revelation 21;10, 22-22:5

John 5:1-9

New Jerusalem

If we were able to climb the highest mountain in the world, maybe we could actually glimpse the New Jerusalem, the holy city. From that vantage point, the busyness and machinations of the world as we know it would be no longer noticeable, having been replaced by our seeing, with acute clarity, God’s creative hand at work, active and continually renewing. We would be viewing nothing less than the fruition and culmination of God’s ultimate plan for all God’s created places and people. We would be standing in what we have come to call a “thin place.” A place where the mortal comes as close, as ever it can, to the Divine. A place where the Divine welcomes the opportunity to allow all mortal flesh to glimpse and be awed by its creative magnificence and power.

We here in the Northwest are surrounded by mountains and most of us, I dare say, have travelled in one way or another, as high up as one can care to go, if not reaching the summit, at least reaching a lower peak from which one can see the world stretched out below. We go to the mountains for recreation, to camp, to hike as well as to commune, think, gain perspective, and even to study and to pray, like Jesus. Whatever our reason for going up on to the mountain, once there we cannot help but discern a different way of looking at the world; experiencing a different vision of the state of our lives or that of the world at large.

Looking down from a great height, as we do in an airplane flying higher and higher into the sky, we leave behind all the earthy issues and obstacles to peaceful living, all the troubles one has to contend with in the day-to-day of this world. At ground level, our choices and circumstances swirl around us, pulling and pushing at us so much that it is sometimes difficult for us to decipher one from another or which path to follow. But from our far-seeing vantage point high on our mountain, we are able to see our various chosen paths with far more clarity, past, present and all that is possible, converging and parting in the distance. We can think and discern more clearly, and the higher we climb, the more all those earthly impediments drop away, and the closer we come to a very different time and place. The thin place.

It is when we find ourselves in the deepest mire of the muddy grit of life, we are right to ask, “Where is my mountain top”? Where is this New Jerusalem into which God is inviting u to be a part?

If we can leave our human world perspective, and enter into God’s perspective, we realize that our mountain may be a spiritual expression rather than a physical, geographical mountain that, for all its grandeur, is still part of our worldly existence and not often available to us or accessible when we need to be there. On the other hand, God’s spiritual mountain is ours to climb whenever we wish, through prayerful conversation with God and contemplative thought. The experience is far more euphoric, timeless and divine as is any sunrise or sunset on beach or mountainside for all their beauty and is every part of the New Jerusalem. But be warned. Euphoric experiences have a way of being obliterated by a rather swift and hard fall back to earth.

Some of us may remember going to motivational conferences and lectures or retreats and, after as little time as one day we can remember being taken higher and higher in our expectations of everything we could accomplish. And yet, just as quickly, the world rushed back to claim us as our mountaintop experience quickly gave way to the world’s crushing earthy reality along with all its mundane demands and expectations

A few days after being brought grimly back to earth, all that euphoria and all that joy-filled self-confidence of knowing all that one is meant to do, slowly scatters into memory, leaving one to wonder if what was heard, felt and experienced had really happened. It doesn’t take long for the struggles and challenges of daily living to move back into our lives like a thick fog over what once we seemed to understand and grasp with such joyful clarity and enthusiastic knowing.

All this is too often true for all our earthbound mountain-top experiences, whether physical, emotional, or even intellectual. But unlike worldly attempts to lift our spirits higher, only to see them brought back to earth by daily living, even one glimpse into the Divine will not fade into the distant recesses of our memories. Once given an opportunity for an on-going mountain top view of God’s New Jerusalem converging into and among the earthly commonplace, is to impart a never-to-be forgotten revelation and realization of all that is possible in God’s Kingdom.

It is all laid out before us to understand and recognize as divinely created for all God’s people to enter into and enjoy. It is the New Jerusalem in our own time, in our own space, in our own back yard, in our own church. It is not vagary or wishful thinking, but the reality of the Divine multidimensional plan come among us and meant to be our new commonplace reality.

The rivers of life, once impossible to cross, become throughways flowing directly from God. The tree of life which once graced the Garden of Eden once denied to humanity, now is multiplied and lines both side of the river into which all are welcome, and into which all that divides us disappears. It is as though the Garden once denied to humankind, has been re-opened and entrance is granted to all God’s people. It is a place where all are one, all are nourished, and the branches of the tree of life are always heavy with fruit.

It is hard for us to imagine, let alone see. We have become too used to our earthly confines where we have learned to live with division and conflict rather than finding ways to unify and be at peace. We have learned the arts of self-protection and invulnerability, creating within ourselves and our communities, rationale for subterfuge and duplicity, hiding our true selves, our true desires and designs for living and surviving in a world filled with shadowed meanings and subtle nuances we are supposed to be able to decode.

The New Jerusalem, the city of God, brings its magnificent, revealing light into all the dark shadows of our lives. There is no place for our long-held private thoughts and intentions to hide. There is no need to cling to them anymore. No need for pretence any more. No need to deceive. Just relief from all that poses as a barrier to our access to God.

It is a message for and about the Church and a message for and about this church in which we now come to pray for the New Jerusalem to descend into our lives.

Perhaps, as we say our prayers today, as we sing our hymns and offer our sacrifice of thanksgiving to God, we can expand our thinking and our capacity to venture closer into the Kingdom, the new Jerusalem. So many times we have come very close to walking and seeing “in the spirit” edging ever nearer the New Jerusalem. Perhaps, now the time has come for us to enter in completely.

God’s invitation to us never ceases. So why not enter into the New Jerusalem with gratitude in body, mind and spirit for all God’s sweet creation. Why not embrace fully and completely the divine will of God, shedding as we go, the binds that hold us to all earthly visions interpreted by singular earthly thinking.

The invitation moves both ways. The New Jerusalem is God’s dwelling place and will find its way into every human heart and into every community that is open to receive it. It brings its healing light, its hope and health and its Light is perpetual like a flowing stream that never runs dry, watering thirsty souls and an earth parched with despair.

Here is our prayer on this day that celebrates God’s creative force that brings life to God’s Kingdom, the New Jerusalem.

May that Divine Spirit, that Divine Light, that Divine Life, spill down into this world and may it be recognized at last. May it fill all the dark places, banishing all uncertainty and confusion. May its healing grace fill our sanctuaries and especially this sanctuary of Christ Church. May we and all God’s people, tired and lost by the grubby grind of earthly life, find that divine presence here. May all of us here present, open the doors of our hearts wide enough that the New Jerusalem may enter changing us and the lives of all we touch forever.

During these closing days of Eastertide, let us remember the words of the final collect at The Great Easter Vigil, wherein the people pray that God would “look favorably on your whole Church that wonderful and sacred mystery,” and that the whole world “may see and know that things that were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new.”

It is the prayer we pray for the New Jerusalem, and we are praying today that the Church and all God’s people could and would be the reflection of God’s Kingdom on earth. This is our desire, our view of what could be, our mountain-top experience of Easter Day and our euphoric celebration of that day. Did we recognize, even then, that the image of the New Jerusalem is really a symbol of possibility and opportunity for each one of us, for this and every church, for this and every city, for this and every nation. Today is our reminder that we no longer need be filled with the shadows of human failure and division but, by the Light of God and that by opening our hearts to receive and enter into God’s New Jerusalem, every shadow of disillusionment and every dried-up expectation will be banished at last.

This is our vision on this Rogation Sunday, this day when we celebrate God’s creation and God’s creative power. It is a vision for our church today and into the future. That we may become a “thin place” where mortal meets Divine, a place of consecration and consummation for the reasons God created humanity in the first place.

Such a dream is not easy and such a vision is hard to hold on to, as we walk out of these doors and re-enter the countless and seemingly insurmountable challenges of earthly life. But let us be determined, not deterred. Let us continually turn back to the One and remember that “the home of God is among mortals.”(21:3)

That is the message of the New Jerusalem. Christ will be and is with us and thus we are part of the sacramental body of Christ, ever present, in and through the Church by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. If we choose to dwell in the New Jerusalem, if we make it our home, we will flourish, our church will flourish, our trees and flowers will flourish

We have a choice. Even as we have learned to live and move within and through this broken world, we can choose to visit the mountain top by accepting God’s invitation to bring this New Jerusalem, with all its possibilities for healing our personal and communal wounds, bringing welcome healing into the lives of all those who long to find it.

The New Jerusalem is the home to which we return to receive that heavenly grace sent forth to heal every head and heart. May we cling to the vision of a new heaven and a new earth with steadfast determination and faith. And may we remember our Easter prayers and our joyous recognition of the New Jerusalem made visible through the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, as rejoicing in all creation, we sing, Alleluia! Alleluia!

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

May 25, 2025

5/11/2025 Sermon

Fourth Sunday of Easter

Acts 9:36-43

Psalm 23

Revelation 10:22-30

John 10:22-30

Plain Talk

If ever there was a piece of scripture that seems to speak directly to sophisticated, may I say, skeptical hearts of 21st century, while seeming as obscure and ambiguous as it did in the 1st century, this is it. As Jesus walks into the temple at the Festival of the Dedication, or as we know it, Hanukkah, the people are gathered around him, pleading for some plain talk about whether or not he could be the Messiah. Give it to us straight, Jesus. Are you, you know, the One?!

We can relate to the ancient people’s needs for straight answers. In our own time, unless one is unendingly naïve, one is automatically careful to try to sort out truth from fiction when the talk from the top seems convoluted or roundabout, rather than to the point. Sometimes they call it diplomacy, sometimes they call it spin, and sometimes, somebody, somewhere either wants, or doesn’t want, to stir the population to think one way or another until eventually, everybody is confused and sorting out truth from fiction is beyond anyone’s capacity to accomplish.

That’s the world for you, and the kind of worldly problem the people were having as they gathered around Jesus, asking their questions. They were asking worldly questions, formed from worldly perceptions, and asking them to the very One who had been telling them time and time again that he was not of this world.

One can’t help wondering that if this exchange had taken place in 2022, whether Jesus would have responded with the observation that the questions were offensive, and things would have shut down instantly. And, maybe he was offended, as he contemplated the meaning of all that was about to happen to him in Jerusalem.

Whether in the year 30-something, or 2022, nothing much has changed. Asking for plain talk about anything beyond normal human comprehension can be highly misinterpreted by the one to whom the answer is given, while at the same time seeming highly offensive to the one to whom the questions are directed.

When the world wants to engage in plain talk about the things of God, the world has a problem. The problem has to do with the world’s understanding of God and all that God is, and our understanding of all that God is, is frankly anything but plain.

When we hear someone, or even ourselves, speaking about God with absolute certainty, we can be certain that what we are hearing or saying is not really about God at all.

We can all speak with confidence about what we have learned, and what we know about in the world, and any aspect of life in the world that our minds can comprehend. We can even quote the scriptures with accuracy. All over the world. But God is not of this world, and we cannot comprehend God.

God comprehends us. God knows us and gets us. We try our hardest to get God and to comprehend God, but to say we do either is to show either great arrogance or deep naivety. All we can do is to keep trying to understand and to know and to realize who or what God is. In return, we inherently understand that God wants us to know, understand and comprehend more about God.

Some of our greatest discussions among the faithful have to do with trying to understand what God means. However, beware. We must be careful that our desire for plain talk about God doesn’t leave us intent on finding the meaning of God to the extent that, when we think we have an answer, we can check a box.

Understanding God won’t work by checking boxes. Bible study is far less about finding out the meaning of God, and far more about entering into, experiencing and participating in the rich stories of human lives revealed in scriptures, which hold within them multiple meanings. Holy Scripture does not have a secret code to be deciphered and cracked open. The lives of those who wrote the scriptures is right there, plainly visible and to a great extent we can relate to and understand what scripture is saying. There is nothing plain about God who, when asked how God should be addressed, answers, “I AM WHO I AM.”

Jesus reminds those gathering around him at the temple gates that he has already given them the plain truth of who he is through all he has said and done – his works. The answer regarding who he is, should be plain enough. And therein lies the distances between the way the world thinks and perceives and the way of God’s knowing. The world likes titles like Lord, King, Emperor or Messiah. Each sends a message to the world that this new leader will well and truly fix things forever more. Every time we vote for a new political leader, or choose a new doctor, or find a new home, or any such example, don’t we too, secretly hope that this leader, this doctor, this home will bring us new opportunities for happiness and the peace we seek?

Jesus understands this, and ignoring the question about the title of Messiah, returns again to his example analogy of shepherd and sheep. The sheep know their shepherd and trust the shepherd. Not because they have delved into his background, read his credentials, or indulged in any kind of intellectual discussion or discernment with or about him, but because they have experienced the shepherd and his way of being. In the same way, we can think of a child trusting a parent to lead in the way they always do. The trust and knowing come not from reason or intellect, but from experience, be it good, bad or indifferent.

It is not intellect and sophistication of thought through which Jesus is revealing himself to the people of his own time and to us, it is through our trust in his words and actions and our experience of him directly or indirectly, that we come to recognize him as the One we follow.

This doesn’t mean we must ever stop studying our scriptures or thinking about the meaning of Jesus’ words. We must continue to work through our thoughts and questions, allowing those thoughts to grow into even more profound questions that invite deeper and more profound study. To love God with all one’s heart, soul, mind and strength is to continually engage one’s heart, soul and mind in the discernment of our faith and our journey through this world while working always to adhere to the way of God.

As we delve deeper and deeper into the study of God’s way, we become increasingly conscious of our human propensity to slide into too much reliance on the intellect as the smartest way to understand God. Most faithful Christians would agree that God is beyond all human knowing. Even so, arguing about the word of God can get our thinking even more convoluted regarding how we describe God rather than simply allowing ourselves to experience walking side by side in the footsteps of Christ.

While there is no doubt about the importance of using our minds and intellect in our pursuit of deepening understanding of our faith, we must, today more than ever, return to the kind of personal and collective experience of God, as did the early church, knowing all the while that this experience will always be beyond our knowing and understanding, and certainly beyond our ability to describe it.

One of the reasons that the early church grew so rapidly in a highly resistant culture, was not because suddenly the people, Roman and Jew alike, were intellectually won over by dogma, but because they shared in the experience of the living God.

Loving God with heart, soul and mind, needs the very strength that Mark, Luke and Matthew added to the commandment. They wrote to get us out of our heads and into our hearts. Perhaps one way for us to understand this concept is to think of something we have seen, or somewhere we have been that seemed simply too difficult to fully describe. You can think of places you have seen, or conversations that held you fast, or any aspect of creation that captivated you: a hummingbird hovering inches from your face, or a bald eagle teaching its young to fly and hunt. The first flower of Spring. A brand new birth. A sunset or sunrise on the side of a snow-covered mountain. The list is endless, and you will have many entries to add to the list.

How many times have you tried to describe the feelings that rushed through your heart, soul and mind, as you experienced any or all of these and more? How did you manage to capture the experience, the colors, the smells, the light of that moments so that you could describe it in words, in plain talk, if you will, to those waiting to hear about your experience? When we try to tell the story, it seems difficult to feel the same sensations of knowing, of complete awe, that filled us as we stood within an overwhelming moment of experience that we inherently knew and recognized could only be of God. It is in these moments, even if we have only experienced a mere glimpse of something like this once in our lives, that we begin to understand what Jesus is saying to the people of to us today. It is in these moments we not only see God’s works, but we recognize God’s work of creation and recognize, too, our connection, our oneness with God.

Jesus said to the people begging him for plain talk answers, “I have told you and you do not believe, (read “know me.)” The works that I do in my Fathers’ name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. I know them and they follow me….” Once there, once believing, once following in faith, once “knowing,” nothing can separate us from God. As the Father and I are one, Jesus said, if we believe, then we are one with Jesus.

It is fine to be fond of creation, to be comfortable in the world that has been created for you, but to be one with me, says Jesus; to believe in me, you must experience that other dimension that is beyond your understanding or ability to put into words. God offers us glimpses of glory, those flickering recognitions of perception into that which is beyond our worldly knowing or understanding.

God only knows, we have our differences, and harmony is difficult to achieve, but Jesus isn’t talking about that. Jesus is teaching us to reach toward our unity with God, and to experience awe-inspiring moments of divine understanding, brought to us through nothing less than divine eloquence. It is in these moments, we stand as one with God. It is in these moments that our knowing of God is astonishing.

The divine concept and the divine context of Jesus’ words are about unity in love. Not emotional human love, or sentimental love, as in I love my mother, my house, my dog, trees, but the kind of love we call Agape. One of the Greek words for love, Agape, wherein we are conscious at all times of being surrounded by love, comforted, cared for, needing to share that love with others, for the needs and welfare of others. In plain talk, simply sharing the gift of God’s love for us and all God’s gifts to us in body, mind and spirit. Agape. One.

We proclaim our desire for unity with Christ as he desires unity with us each week when we say the words which cannot describe the how or when, but only the desire for experience: “Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you,,,,[1]and may we “be filled with thy grace and heavenly benediction, and made one body with him, that he may dwell in us, and we in him.”[2] One.

In the psalmist’s words as best as he can describe, “Know that the Lord is God. It is he that made us, and we are his: we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.”[3] One.

The plain talk for Christians united in The Way of Christ, is to affirm our belief in our Creator, giving thanks for life eternal in God, and for God’s unalterable love and assurance that, no matter what the world and its future holds, for as long as we continue to experience glimpses of God’s glory, we are one with God and nothing or no one will be able to snatch us away.

Amen

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

May 11, 2025

[1]BCP Holy Eucharist 1, 2: p 355

[2]BCP Holy Eucharist 1: p 336

[3]Psalm 100:3

5/4/2025 Sermon

Known

“Who are you?” was the question the disciples held firmly in their hearts as they faced the stranger calmly grilling fish and bread over a charcoal fire. “Who are you?” In their hearts, they knew they recognized the man as the one they called the Lord. And, by degrees, they began to trust that certainly this was indeed, Jesus, inviting them to join him for breakfast.

After all, Jesus had already appeared to them twice before since he left his tomb three days following his crucifixion. As recorded in the Gospels of Mark, Luke and John, Jesus first encountered Mary Magdalene after his rising, then Simon Peter, and then to two disciples making their way to Emmaus. So, it shouldn’t be too surprising that the identity of the man cooking fish for breakfast would not be a complete mystery to the disciples. Even so, it still seems too fantastic….too fantastic to believe in its reality?

Mark clearly reported about Jesus appearing to eleven of his disciples after his resurrection, which left them still in a state of unbelief, leaving them according to Luke’s Gospel “terrified and frightened, and supposing they had seen a spirit.” One can’t help wondering if Jesus was getting a little fed up with the disciples and their need for proof of identity. After all, hadn’t he already shown them his mutilated hands and evidence of his pierced side?

With Simon Peter it was different.

After a night of fishing and catching nothing, the disciples met this seeming stranger on the beach who instructed them to go back and set their nets down again on the other side of the boat whereupon they caught one hundred and fifty-three fish. Simon Peter, suddenly recognizing that this could only be a Jesus miracle, exclaimed “It is the Lord,” after which, Peter being Peter, he jumped back into the sea where he, somehow, found some clothes to throw on before helping the others to haul the catch ashore.

Jesus's relationship with Simon Peter was more than just Lord and devoted disciple. Over time it had grown into a deep friendship. Together, with John and James, Peter was, how we would describe it today, on the inside. He was part of the inner circle, regardless of his impulsive nature, his moments of doubt and more. Jesus had forgiven him for all Peter’s transgressions, including his shameful and cowardly triple denial to the authorities about knowing Jesus. Thus, for whatever the reason, of all the disciples it was to Peter that Jesus revealed himself first after rising from the tomb.

By the time Peter and the rest of the disciples had successfully hauled all the fish to shore, and all had eaten their fill and broken bread together, at last there was no doubt left in the disciples’ minds that this truly was the resurrected Jesus.

Perhaps their lingering skepticism is what led Jesus to especially love Peter so deeply. For all his mistakes, for all his shameful cowardice, his impulsiveness and unpredictability, perhaps Jesus recognized the humanity of the Peter, and Peter’s desire to do what he believed to be right, whether or not he was correct. He recognized the enormous potential in Peter, perhaps more than Peter knew himself, and yet he needed to test him and, glancing around at the slightly confused disciples standing near,, was moved to ask Peter a very hard question. “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?”

How do you answer a question like this in front of those you call your closest friends? Do you deny them, or deny your love for the one questioner? Would Peter try to qualify his answer, saying something like, “You know I love you, Lord, just I love these others.” But that would not be answering the question, which clearly asked whether Peter loved the Lord more than any others or anything else in the world, for that matter.

The question has to do as much with the degree of Peter’s faith and his belief in the ministry of Jesus as it does his acceptance that such an inexplicable phenomenon like resurrection after death makes absolute sense, given the situation he was now facing.

Jesus asked the pointblank question to Peter three times and each time Peter answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” “You know everything…you know that I love you.” Where upon, Jesus is satisfied and warning Peter of the consequences he would suffer because of that love, the church was born, and Peter followed Jesus and would live his life doing as the Lord had asked him, “Feed my sheep.”

More importantly, Jesus had enough foresight about Peter, that he came to proclaim Peter as the Rock upon which Jesus would build His Church. Thus, it is worth contemplating that without Peter, there would have been no church, and perhaps none of us would be sitting together in this church today. The church would see Peter die for, and we are to be grateful for his faithful and willing sacrifice.

Jesus needed to be sure, just as any of us need to be sure of our critical relationships. In every relationship, worldwide, be it between loving partners, married couples, parents to children, children to parents, friends to friends, that universal question arises: Do you love me?

Jesus knew that Peter loved him, but even Jesus had to be sure of the extent and measure of that love before entrusting him to continue Jesus’ ministry on earth. He had to know that Peter loved him with the kind of depth that he knew Jesus would expect of that kind of love.

Merely asking the question was not enough for Jesus and it is not enough for us. Perhaps it is worth daring to ask the question again, as did Jesus, maybe over a delicious meal of fried fish, “Do you love me?” And then, asking “Why?”

You may remember the wonderful musical “Fiddler on the Roof, when Tevye sings to his wife Golde, “Do you love me?” They have been married for 25 years, and Tevye wants to be sure of how they still feel about each other and if their marriage is lasted due to love or mere repetition.

That level of knowing can only come from absolute faith, trust and love between two people, no matter the relationship, which begs the question: how well do you know your best friends, your children, your husband, your wife, your lover, your parents. How often have any of us asked “Do you love me,” and felt only slightly reassured by the answer, “Of course I love you, you know that.”

It’s a valid question to ask within any relationship and, perhaps even more importantly, the question should lead to a need and desire to test oneself about how well we know this very significant person in our life or how well that very significant person knows us.

When was the last time you sat down with one of the most important people in your life to explore just who each other is at this moment in time? Just how well do you think you know each other and how much deeper your relationship can be when each is given the opportunity to explore a deeper knowledge of the other.

To know, really know someone very dear to you, and to be known, really known by that person and the reverse, is to be able to honestly answer the question, “Do you love me?”, rather than “Who are you?”

The question “Who are you?”, implies a not-knowing of the other. Some may describe it as a “drifting away” not necessarily of love, but certainly of knowing why love might still exist. Perhaps, simply coming to really know one another can re-kindle love that shows some danger of dying. It could be that a particular person in your life would love to be asked the question, “Who are you?”, or “Who do you think I am?” Perhaps a simple unveiling of the heart is the revelation that love needs to show itself in all its glory again. The revelation can reveal a genuine resurrection of love which then becomes set free to glorify each other and all else that is God’s creative glory in the world. How beautiful. How Jesus!

How beautiful to be known less as you were, and more as you are now, today. To be known who you are as a result of all that life has brought you to delight in, all that life has brought to test your strength and faith, all in life that has amazed, surprised or awed you. How freeing to be known for what delights you today, and for that which no longer delights you; for what frightens you, what makes you vulnerable or anxious, how you view the world, what you desire to do in or with or for the world in order to accurately reflect who you are today. To be known so well, and to know so deeply that you are known, allows you to freely follow a path you were destined to take. To know another deeply and completely allows that one to do the same.

Perhaps for Jesus, the question, “Do you love me?” was the definitive question he asks of each one of us. For Jesus, perhaps the question, “Do you love me?” was really asking, “Do you really know me?” Either way, the questions was vital enough to be asked more than once. Is the question any less vital for any of us? How well do we know how another views the world and what are the reasons are for that view.? What is the view of an immigrant? Of a family torn apart by government agents? A husband sent to an entirely opposite part of the world than his wife. Their children separated from their parents. Perhaps, during these warm days of Eastertide Spring, we can take a few moments to contemplate the injustice of that. Is it no less a crime than it was to arrest Jesus for his insistence on justice?

It is a Jesus question. If we have come to know Jesus in such a deep and profound way, that we have no need to be questioned about how much we love the Lord, then it should not be too much of a stretch for us to love those close to us or to love the stranger who fought to reach a country where he thought he could be free. .

Maybe the disciples weren’t so misguided by the resurrection phenomenon. Maybe their question, “Who are you?” was an appropriate gateway to understanding and coming to know Jesus in a far deeper, more profound way.

Then if Jesus were to ask them, “Do you love me?” they, like Peter could say with confidence, “Yes, Lord, you know me, and you know that I love you.”

“Do you love me?” Is a deeply Jesus kind of thing which begs the question: How well do you really know me? If Jesus were to ask you, “Do you love me more than….. (fill in the blank for ‘these’?”), what would your answer be?

And what would you be prepared to do about it?

End

Written to the Glory of God

Esme J. R. Culver+

May 3, 2025

4/20/2025 Sermon

Day of the Resurrection of our Lord

Isaiah 65:17-25

Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24

1 Corinthians 15:19-26

Luke 24:1-12

Run for Home!

What is it about this day that causes a stir in the heart, mind and soul like no other? Whether you fall on your knees every morning, noon and night, or attend church a couple of times a week or just once, or if you just come at Christmas or Easter, or if you never come at all, and haven’t since you were in sixth Grade, it doesn’t matter. There is something about Easter Sunday that brings about a certain lightness of spirit which enters into every soul, regardless of one’s degree of piety, that allows us all who are aware of Easter to imagine that no matter what, at the end of the metaphorical day, all will be well.

Maybe, this morning or any Sunday morning for that matter, you pondered whether or not you should come to church. After all, sometimes we’re just tired, and no doubt, there are many other activities which tug at our attention. Yet, here we are on this Easter Sunday, together in this sanctuary. Some of us know it well, some of us maybe not so much, and there may be some who have entered this holy place, or others like it for the first time. None of that is important.

What matters is that, for all our differences, for all our life circumstances, or the amount of church life we have experienced, on this special day we have one thing in common. We have each felt a movement in our hearts and a call to our souls to make our way toward this sanctuary to fill some primal need to find peace, acceptance and love. To find sanctuary….a home away from home, a divine home, a sanctuary. God is here, in this place just as God is everywhere waiting for people to show up to find God. And they do. They find God in the sense of peace they find as soon as they enter, as they find somewhere where they instantly belong, as they ponder their presence among this congregation, which is part of a congregation that spreads across the world. They find God in the knowledge that they are not alone

And sometimes we all ask ourselves “Why am I here?” Even on such a day as Easter Sunday. What does this really mean, anyway, and what does it mean to me? And where is the Easter Bunny!

It’s a question we might ask ourselves each time we think about coming to church, especially on Easter Sunday.

What is it that stirred inside me? What voice spoke deep in my soul that compelled me to make the effort to show up at the church doors today.

Perhaps it is the same movement of the Spirit that has compelled people like you and I to come and to continue to come, because they still dare to believe, still dare to celebrate God’s most powerful miracle and mystery of all time…..the resurrection of the one who truly understood and knew God: Jesus Christ. Why? Because, in the days leading up to his death, Jesus was no longer merely walking, he was running toward God’s heavenly kingdom, to God’s Divine home, just as we made sure we wasted no time in reaching a sanctuary today. And not only was he running; he was willing to die an ungodly death, in order to enter it. And therein lies the mystery of the entire Easter story. Christ died. Christ rose. Christ will come again.

After Jesus was laid to rest after his death, the women who knew and loved Jesus came to the tomb in which he was enclosed to mourn him. They found an empty tomb. They were terrified when confronted by the unbelievable emptiness. Two angel-like figures reminded them of God’s promise that God would always be with us, and suddenly they began to run, they ran and ran, yet not away from, but toward. They ran with hope, filled with joyful insight and recognition of the truth now made clear. And they told the eleven disciples who were doubtless troubled by the events and by their own cowardice, but still the disciples did not believe what the women were telling them, until one of them, Peter, got up to go and see for himself. And Peter, say those who were there that day, was amazed.

Perhaps we are a bit like Peter. We want to be certain of our circumstances and we deeply want our circumstances to be holy. Peter eventually emerged from his shock and amazement and so did the other disciples. They realized that their work was now ready to begin. It was time for them to keep running forward, strong in their faith, believing in the Good News of Jesus’ Resurrection, his triumph over death itself and for God’s revelation of God’s truly Divine self. It is for that reason we are all gathered here today. We want to believe and we have heard from the eyewitnesses who were there, and saw, and we want to trust what they say. And we do, because we know we felt compelled to be here today, and that someway, somehow, all will eventually be well.

We would be foolish to imagine that, in earthly terms, all will be well for all God’s people, no matter where or who they are. After all the lessons of Holy Week, we realize that God understands that human life isn’t that forgiving because we humans, as much as we long to be able to capitulate our lives, our decisions, our fate to God, at the same time we want to exercise our free will. And there is the battle between the world and the divine.

In human life, all is not well for all those innocents living under brutal terrorist attacks or unjust warmongering. All is not well, for those who have nowhere to call home, all is not well for the very sick or dying, all is not well for those running from poverty and hunger, or running from any kind of oppressors, running to survive whatever it is that stalks them out in the wilds of the world.

Yet, Easter Morning brings with it a particular kind of hope and encouragement, as if to say to all of us, yes, you are running, but you can run toward something wonderful even as you must run away from the unthinkable.

Running toward something, even for those of us who have less to run from, implies that whatever it is we are running toward is worth the effort. It is on Easter Morning hearts run toward God, the Risen Jesus and the Holy Spirit who, no matter what the world throws across our particular paths, will guide us toward a place of peace and comfort into which we are always made welcome.

No matter who we are, what messes we have made in our lives, Easter Day, the Day of Resurrection, is the day that provides an opportunity to make all things new. God encourages us, whoever or wherever we are to always to begin again. Easter is the time that we hear and feel the call from God to start with whatever it is we want to resurrect in our hearts.

That is the core meaning of Easter! It is a celebration of all things new and possible, in ourselves and in the way we view the world around us. Easter reveals a deeply profound place of the Divine; a Divine home, overflowing with love and with peace; where we will find God and be found by God.

May those who have been turned out of their homes, wherever they may be in the world, run toward that Divine home! May those who have seen their families murdered, mown down by bombs and guns, run, run toward that Divine home! May those who are hungry and thirsty run toward the home where the bread and water of life never disappear. May those who are misunderstood, neglected, made to feel less than who they really are by this world yet are truly the beautiful ones that God created in God’s image, run toward their Divine home. May those who mourn for lost loved ones, for lost work, lost relationships, lost friends, run, run.

May we all run with them. Run toward the kind of freely given love we long for. Run toward that love that, like a mountain stream never runs dry, is never impeded by rocks of conditions, resentments or jealousies. Run, to the kind of love that enfolds, comforts and accepts without requirements, expectations or judgments. Run to that Divibne home where we are known to the depths of our souls.

How beautiful it is to know that we are known so deeply by our Creator! Are held in God’s heart, are seen and loved for who we are, each of us in our own way. When we allow God to come close enough to speak to us; to travel into all the nooks and crannies of our souls and minds, into our hopes and our challenges, our dreams and our failures, we cannot but be filled with hope and joyous gratitude.

As creatures of God’s own creation, the longing to hear God’s words and to know that we are known by God is in our DNA. The mystery of that experience is beyond our understanding and yet touches us deeply and changes us. God created us to love God and for God to love us. How can we not want then run toward that kind of comfort and relief.

The immense truth of Jesus’ death is wrapped up in love for us, together with millions of others around the world who are part of the community we call Easter people, the people of Christ, Christians. We are bound together by what Jesus taught us is the most important commandment of all: To love God with all our heart and with all our soul and with all our mind, and to love our neighbors as ourselves.

We are called to recognize the forgotten, called to recognize the old person who lives behind the window in the house down the street, called to recognize the lonely child, the stranger’s face, the unwashed and the lost. We are even called to recognize the ordinary, the face next to us, the one we see all the time but, too often fail to see.

We are invited to join Mary and all the disciples who saw and heard and walked with Jesus in those days and then ran into the community of faith as the first Easter people.

How it all happened, I don’t know, I wasn’t there. But something amazing and wonderful and beyond our knowing and beyond the knowing of all those early witnesses. Jesus had foretold the disciples of the events that were to take place. When they witnessed His truth, they were compelled to tell the world about the sacrifice Jesus Christ made in the name of love for all God’s people, and the Good News of the Risen Christ

There is a power in our lives that is alive and at large in the world. It is a power far greater than principalities and politics….far greater than the extremes who would force their ideologies in order to attain power….far greater than our capacity to hide from it…..and that power is Love. It is Love that was willing to lay down and die for love of us….it is through the power of Love that we are called to lay down all that separates us from that Love so that we can be resurrected with Christ into a new way of living.

As Easter people, we become part of the Resurrection story. For Mary and for Peter and John, there was no doubt about the power of God’s love and there should be no doubt for us. Jesus is Love and Love is Risen. Let us rise up and run to let the world know that there is hope in the world.

Run with the Good News by recognizing God in the faces you see around you, in your family, on the street and around the world.

Run with the Good News by hearing his voice in the voiceless, the ones who are never heard, who yearn for someone to hear their cries.

Run with the Good News of Creation, celebrating every newborn flower of spring, and every newborn life in the world.

Run, run, toward all that is the common good!

Run, run to all that is Love!

In this world which finds it so hard to see….finds it so hard to hear….finds it so hard to listen….let us throw away the blinders from our eyes and let us take our hands away from our ears……and let us run toward the light of hope….run in any way we can, on your feet or in your mind, and don’t stop being the eyes and the ears and the voice of the Risen Christ

If you banish the darkness from your heart, Christ is alive!

If you put aside resentment, judgement and pride, Christ is alive!

Before he handed Jesus over to be crucified, Pilate asked Jesus, “What is truth?”

The Truth is that, on this Easter Day, the possibility of renewed joy, and hope and the resurrection of all we were created to be, has been unleashed anew to the world.

Alleluia!

Amen

Written to the Glory of God

E.J. R. Culver+

Easter Sunday

April 20, 2025

4/18/2025 Sermon

Good Friday

Isaiah 52:13-53:12

Hebrews 10: 16-25

Psalm 22: 1-30

John 18:1 – 9:42

Eyewitness

My name is John. I am a disciple of Jesus Christ. I was there. Not a saint then. Just another sinner. An eyewitness.

We were all there that day... all except of course, Judas.....although, who knows, he might have been watching from the shadows somewhere.....watching the results of his dirty work. Truth be told, I’m not sure any of us whom Jesus called disciples were much better..... .all spread out along the way.....mixing in with the crowds...trying to be inconspicuous I suppose. Safely, I’m ashamed to admit, watching from afar.
Even so, from my vantage point on the bend of the road, I could see Jesus making his way up a little incline, bent over, made to carry his own cross…his vehicle of torture, heading straight toward where I was standing. Somebody yelled some cruel, derisive words at him, meant, perhaps, to impress the Roman soldiers. The Romans, of course, had been packed all around him for the entire journey, making sure no-one came near. When people did try to jump out or grab at him, they were immediately shoved back and shown the point of a Roman spear. That kept some of the harassment down, but swords couldn’t stop the voices or the confusion or the chaotic atmosphere that hung in the hot, dusty midday air.

It was as if all the tension of these final days and hours were being let loose; exploding into this unbelievably tragic situation for which no-one really wanted to lay claim, but now everyone had to. Pilate had given the people what they wanted and avoided having the entire city blow up with riots, and the chief priests got what they wanted: a quick death upon the cross and burial before the start of Passover. To be sure, not all the voices were berating Jesus....there were a few choice comments yelled out over the racket, clearly directed at the soldiers and the Romans authorities, but the owners of those voices seemed to melt into the crowd so as not to be identified.

None of this was what any of us wanted. But one thing was clear. There was no going back.

As Jesus came near, I was shocked at what I saw, never having believed it would all come to this......his face ashen, rivulets of blood seeping from the cruel points of a thorny crown they had put on him, dripping onto his forehead and cheeks...creating rivers with any last moisture in him being forced out into beads of torturous sweat. They had put a purple robe on him......and I felt a powerful urge to tear off the humiliation of it, and to somehow get that horrible head dress away from him, but I couldn’t do it. Something deep inside me stopped me. Fear? I confess I had my fair share of that, and I knew that such a rash move would probably have killed both of us there and then, a merciful end for us both perhaps.

But rather what stopped me from rushing to his aid came from an inner sense that this would not be what he would want.

None of us, who were really close to him, really understood all he was telling us about this day, even though we knew in our hearts that we had been well forewarned. I had heard other rabbis, but Jesus was different.....compelling. We all had seen him befriend the people on the fringes. Why, even some of us came from those ranks of the hated: tax collectors, foreigners, people on the edge.

And we were with him when he gave us powerful signs that he was of God. We saw him heal the sick, give sight to the blind. We were there when he raised Lazarus from death to life. We heard his words of love and compassion, when he taught us to love each other in the way he loved us. I don’t think any of us really grasped the true meaning of all that. He probably knew it. And maybe he knew we would understand later -- understand the mystery of him, this Son of Man, “despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with grief….”

Jesus was so close to me now. I could almost reach out and touch him. My eyes searched his face and his eyes, so that he could see that I was still here by his side. Did he see me? See into the depths of me? Into all my confusion and regret...my guilt and my longing?

And, in those dying eyes, I saw fatigue and forgiveness, anguish and love. It was as if all my denial, all my sins, my weaknesses and afflictions were melted into him and what I received in return was His complete understanding of my own absolute truth. And it was more than that. There was a kind of pure innocence that lay deep within those eyes, as of the innocence that comes from having no falsity within, no show of pride or bravado, no need to make a point, no need be anything other than who one is ....destined to fulfill God’s call in complete and utter obedience.......even as it leads one to lay himself down.......as a perfect and unblemished sacrifice........in the face of the most excruciating pain and humiliation.....all the while praying to God that we could begin to understand.

There was such sorrow in his eyes...such that I’ll never forget it. Such suffering. Looking back on it, I still marvel. Suddenly someone shoved past me roughly and yelled “Save yourself, King of the Jews!” Shocked, I instinctively moved to shove the person away and yell at him to hush his voice, but then I saw the eyes of Jesus, still looking at me unwaveringly as He passed, and I just stood there and felt the shades of his suffering for just an instant and I forgave the voice.... just as I had just been forgiven for so many harsh words from my own mouth, usually uttered out of fear.

The voice had come from anger borne of fear. It is a deep and abiding source of fear and of need for control, to take power over a situation. It is the same anger and need for power and control that starts wars against the innocents. Wasn’t Jesus supposed to be the one who would liberate us at last from all the power and control that oppresses us; all that makes life hard? Wasn’t this the one whom we thought would storm the gates of all in the world that would keep us down? Governments, armies, even each other? But now this? I understood the defeated disappointment of that voice in the crowd. How much we all wanted our vindication, wanted our own freedom, wanted to live without fear in joy and peace. How badly we wanted Jesus to show us the way and yet, how much we value our free will, our human capacity to decide for ourselves what our actions will be.

Somehow, in that moment, I began to understand that all he had taught us in the past was but mere preparation for this day and in the days to come. After all his teaching, this was his ultimate lesson and example; this absolute obedience to the will of God and one’s own truth as the gateway to freedom. And I remember saying then.....Oh my God.....surely you were there at the beginning and will be at the end. I wish I could tell him now how I began to understand that day. But I am left now to remember his smile, his forgiveness, his eyes filled with grace, as if to say, “Yes. Begin where you are.”

Jolted out of my reverie by the horrifying spectacle of Jesus and his Roman entourage shuffling past, I start to push through the mob, trying to keep up with him and I noticed a small procession coming behind. It was the Mary’s. His mother, with Magdeline and Clopas’ wife, Mary.

I stood transfixed for a moment unsure of what I should do or say. Where are the words to measure the suffering of a mother? Where are the words to measure the anguish in any heart that loved Him and loves Him unto death?

This “young plant and root (Isa 53:2) growing out of the stump of Jesse on whom the spirit of the Lord will rest (Isa. 11: 1-2). This vulnerable young root.... now a baby lying in a manger revered by shepherd and kings alike. Now capturing the imagination and trust of all he met along the roads of Galilee. Now, still left vulnerable through the unendurable rejection of his own people and all those he came to heal and save.

And now, “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted….. like a lamb that is led to the slaughter and like a sheep that before is silent, he did not open his mouth”.

Through the terrifying memory of this pent-up crowd yelling “Crucify Him,” my heart still pounds fast and heavy, as though taking on all the suffering in the world that brought Him such grief. I am bowed down by the cries of the victims of oppression and injustice in His own time, and all those who have suffered through the beginning of time and through time for the sake of Empire, and all those in this very moment face tyranny that lusts for power and control, all those who cannot claim their own right to live and love freely, without sacrifice of life itself.

The insight brought with it an overwhelming need to get to Golgotha. I didn’t want to let him down. Not this time. Not ever again. Suddenly, I didn’t care what happened to me. I felt as if I could fight all of Rome singlehandedly, such was my need to show him I was still there. The power of the call was overwhelming then and still is. When there is no choice, when there is no turning back, when, no matter what the consequences may be, no matter what suffering and affliction might be brought to bear, in order to do God’s will: rejection, humiliation, loss and sacrifice; you have to respond with body, mind and spirit. All the way. Going only part of the way won’t work. God knows it, Jesus knew it, the Prophet knew it and now, at last, I know it too.

As I approached The Place of the Skull, I caught sight of several of the others and I thought I saw Peter but couldn’t be sure. I wondered what he must be thinking. And the others, was it all beginning to make sense to them too? Would we all have to follow this road one day ourselves? We were being swept along, looking briefly around ourselves now and then, recognizing quickly here and there, amidst the bloodthirsty chaos, our reflected trepidations and feelings of growing guilt and indeed, awareness of our own complicity and the horrifying reality of our contributions to this moment.

As I ran, stumbling over the increasingly rocky ground of Golgotha, the energy of the thinning crowd seemed to subside. Echoes of mocking laughter and derisiveness faded behind me and instead I heard my own sobbing cries for forgiveness and my own pleas melting into a kind of universal groan that could somehow be heard far beyond today, far beyond my own capacity to ease it, yet calling me to enter into it with all that Jesus taught us....with no exceptions....no malice...no resentments....no pride......just love....acceptance ...and total devotion to the other.....as I have been loved and am loved....so I must love others..

My eyes saw his feet first as I arrived at the foot of the Cross. The feet that had walked out of Nazareth into the Baptismal waters of the Jordan, the feet that walked the dusty roads of Galilee and walked on the waters of the seas and through the harsh deserts of the wilderness and left temptation behind them....the feet that untiringly led us to comfort all those in trouble, need or any kind of sickness.......were now bloodied and bruised from the nails that had been thrust through them. We all just stood there silently, among the assortment of the cruel and the curious, before His sacrificial altar built from our own weakness and transgressions and my body wrenched with nausea at the sight and the thought of it all.

And there were the Mary’s, standing together near the foot of the Cross regarding his ravaged, scourged body, filthy with blood, dirt and human spit. Mary His Mother, crying, faint, but standing on the arm of Magdalene, her face wet with tears but who stood with her back erect and with determined eyes, and the other Mary, softly present to them both.

No longer caring about the consequences, I broke out of the crowd and went to them and stood with them, following their eyes, to meet the eyes of Jesus. And he looked deeply into me, then said, “Here is your mother.” And then, “It is finished.”

We all knew then that he was gone. I sensed then and I know with certitude now that, at that moment, that we had all been part of something far beyond our human capacity to grasp, because the life we had been chosen to accompany could be nothing else but divine. We knew then that, somehow, in some way, we would be convinced that what was not possible would now be made possible and that the work he was sent to do on earth was successfully completed, and that the rising of his Church was already beginning.

I was the last person on earth to whom he spoke and my work on earth since has been unwaveringly to continue that which he started....to walk from the place where his feet left this earth forever. I wish I could tell you the rest of the story, but that is for another day.

I do know and did learn that grief follows a real and direct experience of death, and that out of the ashes of grief, come new life and new possibilities.

The work Christ completed on that terrible day became yours and mine to continue. All He taught us in life was now left to us to teach others.....to heal, not to tear down....to do justice and not accept injustice toward anyone......to be forgiving just as we are forgiven.....to bear whatever suffering we must endure in the name of God’s true call to us and above all....to love in such a way as Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ loved us......without condition and without end.

My name is John. I was there. The eyewitness. I am witness for the others who were there, who saw and heard it all, and for the one who is speaking before you now and I am witness for all of you who must always remember in His name that love, grace and forgiveness will always triumph over hatred, revenge and cruelty.

My name is John. “He who saw this has testified so that you also may believe. His testimony is true, and he knows that he tells the truth.” (John 19:35)

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E. J. R. Culver+

April 18, 2025

4/17/2025 Sermon

Maundy Thursday

Exodus 12:1-4, (5-10), 11-14

Psalm 116: 1, 10-17

1 Corinthians 11: 23-26

John 13: 1-17, 31b-35

“Just as I have loved you…”

On the night we are recalling this evening, the disciples gathered for a meal with Jesus. Many churches add a commemorative meal prior to the Maundy Thursday service. It is called the Agape Meal, Agape meaning Love, a meal of love shared by congregations in remembrance of Jesus’ last supper with this disciples. Perhaps we will share an Agape Meal next year, here at Christ Church.

What is important for us tonight is to notice that Saint John doesn’t tell us how many disciples are in the Upper Room for supper with Jesus, therefore, any number of us might be there.

The difference between us and the others who knew him lies in our knowledge of the sequence of events that are yet to come. We may not have walked and talked directly with Jesus, but we do know what lies in the future, yet those disciples who were with him that evening, had no idea of what would happen on the next day or on the third day.

Being there, in that room with this distinct advantage of advance knowledge, we might think we understand the dynamic of the evening. It seems easy enough to be armchair disciples, easy to shake our heads in amusement at the lack of insight and lack of sophistication of this twelve who have been with Jesus throughout his ministry. Jesus has been telling them about what is to come and now, here they are, here we are, on the eve of Passover, the night before a time of sacrifice. It is the night before Jesus will offer himself as the ultimate sacrifice, paralleling in chilling reality that ritual sought out by all those with sins to be absolved.

It is at this, his Last Supper, that Jesus gives us the central message of his mission on earth, the mission we are called to keep alive in His name: “Little children, I am with you only a little longer….just as I have loved you…. you should also love one another.”

Little children, I am leaving you…you have little time left to learn, learn now. You must learn and come to truly understand how much care you must take with the hearts of others. You must learn and come to truly understand that there is no substitute for love, no room for hate. It will be hard, but this is it, little children. There is no other message, no commandment greater than this, even unto death. Listen and learn now.

It is the Maundy message….the mandatum… the commandment of Jesus. It is the last night that any of us will dine with Jesus before his death, and we are hearing his very human need to convey the central core of his ministry and message into our distracted heads and ears before it is too late for us to hear it.

Yet, the disciples who have been so close to Jesus for so long, hardly hear him due to focusing on their own agendas. They are not hearing him at the heart’s level, let alone understanding him in their minds.

We who are witnessing all of this from our place in the bleachers desperately want them to hear, we want them to listen for once, listen deeply and understand. We ache with the realization that he is not being heard, while deep down in our own hearts, we realize that at some level, we don’t hear it well enough to understand what it really all means either.

So, we sink back in our seats, back into the shadows with a sense of our own ineffectiveness. If we understand anything at all, it is how very stuck we are in our own simple human single mindedness.

All that said, it must have been clear to Jesus that actions rather than words were all that was left to him. And what happened next was not only unusual and uncomfortable to all present, but to a degree, shocking for the disciples, just as it continues to be for many of us.

In the years around 33 of the Common Era, after walking along dusty streets during the day, then entering an establishment for a meal, it was common to have one’s feet washed before eating and drinking. A servant or a slave, or even a child of the host, would always offer a bowl for the purpose of cleaning one’s hands, and the servant or slave would also kneel to wash guests’ tired and dusty feet.

But this was no ordinary night and the rituals surrounding eating meals together were beyond the expected normal boundaries. Outside the atmosphere was politically charged, while inside the room the air was ripe with tension. The usual air of comradery was absent as the disciples continued to bicker about who was greater or who was the closest to Jesus. Looking back, one cannot help comparing that kind of conversation with that of quarrelsome children fighting about who’s gets to ride in the front seat!

They were, however, most likely aware of some unspoken tension building between Jesus and Judas Iscariot. The disciples were probably used to the two having differences of opinion about Jesus’ approach to his ministry and how he should be handling the push back from the authorities. And, they were probably used to Judas and his moods, but tonight Judas seemed especially angry at the turn of events politically, and found himself at odds with the group, weighing his own options about whether he should stay the course or whether he should jump ship now before the authorities moved in.

It was into the midst of all this angst and anger and perhaps compelled by it and by his own deep desire to make his point clear, that Jesus was drawn to rise midway through the meal, remove his robe, pour water into a basin and drop to his knees to wash the feet of those who had followed him into this place.

Hearing this again and again, do our hearts not still sink for him? Do we not feel the urge to snatch the basin from him, so that we can wash the very feet that carry such a message of love and peace? Are we not angry by the disciples’ confusion, their embarrassment at their own sense of superiority, by their failure to understand the true meaning of humbleness of heart? Why is it, we ask, they cannot understand that this last act of love will serve as a deeply poignant moment of their last few hours together. And yet, do we? And who are we to judge? Are we ever aware that our words to someone else, our actions toward someone else, our ability to truly listen to another, or to hear their truth could be the last time

It was a humble, selfless act. An expression of the deepest servitude of the master, a precursor of what it means to sacrifice oneself in the name of love for another….an interpretation, if you will, by Jesus. A revelation of what total capitulation of ego and self can look like.

One could say that it was an ultimate purification rite for the disciples and a lesson for every one of us. In a sense, it was a sacramental act of baptism. A washing clean of all our muddy thinking, our darkest thoughts, our self-preserving egos and the rest.

It was nothing less than a dramatization of the Kingdom in which the greatest is the least. Not a condition that brings privilege to a few and slavish conditions or fear to the many, but a Kingdom in which we are to live as servants to all. Jesus wants us to experience pure selflessness. He wants us to experience his final act of love.

With some measure of contrite misery and continued confusion, each of the disciples submits to his Lord kneeling before him, and watching as Jesus washes the foot presented to him, and finally, gently, taking his own towel, dries each one.

Is wasn’t so long ago, we recall, that Mary of Bethany anointed the feet of Jesus with precious oil, and now Jesus, “anoints” our feet with lowly, cleansing, clear water so that we might have “full share of him.”

It is too much for Peter, who cries out for him to stop.. “Not my feet!” One wonders what Peter saw in the eyes of Jesus, as Jesus responds, “If I do not wash you, you will have no share in me…..” Whereupon, Peter, God love him, impulsive, affectionate, well-meaning Peter, panic-stricken at the thought of separation from Christ, goes to the other extreme… “then also my hands and my head.” I pray that Jesus, even in his anguish, found the moment worthy of a loving smile.

Even here there is a lesson to be learned. Jesus is not asking us to exaggerate our obedience to his command. We are to simply prepare ourselves anew for the spiritual life in Christ, in body, mind and Spirit. It is as if Jesus is asking us to wash the feet of another unceasingly….. just as does the baptismal water flow freely for our needs and just as our intimate relationship with Christ and our love for each other must never cease.

Jesus reminds us that we that if we are in fellowship with Him then we are in fellowship with God. It is when we allow ourselves to drift away from this relationship, if our prayers and rituals are not cleansing our characters, not healing our broken hearts, then we are simply moving from day to day in life. We are no different than we were before we knew God and we have missed the point.

It is through an act of spiritual servitude, an act of loving, that brings us back into relationship with God, and we can take heart in Jesus’ answer to Peter, “He who is bathed is clean.”

And, so, like St. Paul, we press on. Beyond the Upper Room and into our worldly priorities, pressing on to learn and grow in Christ. Not giving in to the unalterable status quo of the world and all its sins but rather growing into His Spirit. The Spirit is not bound by convention and moves where it will in the moment, forgiving unendingly even in the midst of anger, scorn and betrayal presented at our door each day by the world.

The disciples were privileged to see, touch and hear directly an ideal way of living realized in the person of the One who lived it. It was nothing less than the dream of Jesus brought to earthly reality through a simple act of humility which has prevailed for over 2,000 years.

Tonight, it is time for us to come down from the bleachers. Our time for mere watching is over and it is our turn to experience the incarnation of the ideal Jesus has shown us by example.

Through a visible sign, like a simple act of foot washing and being washed, we serve the love of Christ to one another, and God’s invisible grace breaks our worldly hearts wide open.

Yet, like the twelve gone before us, we will deny Him yet, we will fail Him, but we will love Him and follow Him and keep clambering down from our high places to try to walk in His Way, even unto death.

The reward is great, “Little children”, Jesus says to us; we tormented and troubled, we lost and confused, we still stumbling in the dark, little children, “You are in my heart, just as I am in God’s heart, and I will love you to the end.”

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God.

E. J. R. Culver

April 17, 2025

4/6/2025 Sermon

Fifth Sunday in Lent

Isaiah 43:16-21

Psalm 126

Philippians 3:4b-14

John 12:1-8

The Gift

“Try not to get worried, try not to turn on to

problems that upset you, oh,

Don’t you know

Everything’s alright, yes, everything’s fine.

And we want you to sleep well tonight,

Let the world turn without you tonight.

If we try, we’ll get by, so forget all about us tonight.

Sleep and I shall soothe you, calm you, and anoint you.

Myrrh for your hot forehead

Then you’ll feel

Everything’s alright, yes, everything’s fine.

And it’s cool and the ointment’s sweet

For the fire in your head and feet.

Close your eyes, close your eyes

And relax, think of nothing tonight.”[i]

These are some of the lyrics from Jesus Christ, Superstar and the words are exactly based on our reading from John’s Gospel chapter today.

Have you ever received a gift, perhaps at Christmas, for a birthday, or some other special occasion and, upon opening it and viewing it, you realize with instant certainty that what lay inside the wrapping paper or bag was simply a mere reflection of the real gift being offered to you?

You knew immediately that the gift was given with love and that you are the beloved of the gift giver and beyond your knowing of that, with even more impact than that, you realize that what lies before you is an expression of yourself being known. You are known deeply, sincerely and accurately, and that in the mere circumstance of being so deeply known, you are indeed thought of, sincerely loved and sincerely remembered, not just in one moment in time, but all the time and for all time.

Such it was when Jesus first saw the gift prepared for him by Mary of Bethany. We are familiar with several Mary’s, however, this Mary is the Mary of the sisters, Mary and Martha, and brother Lazarus. You might recall that Mary and Martha were there when Jesus rose Lazarus from the dead. All the Mary’s were early and devoted disciples and considered holy women and as such, have often been confused or conflated by the medieval church and even, in some circles, in the present time. But not in our Gospel reading today.

It is Mary of Bethany who takes center stage in the drama taking place at the home of Lazarus in Bethany. Her love and knowledge of Jesus is clear and apparent. The story of Mary and her costly perfume is well known and serves as a very revealing measure about how well and deeply we know ourselves, how well and deeply we know those we love, and how well and deeply we know God.

In this case, it is certain that Mary knows Jesus deeply and well and has the confidence within herself to gift him with the opportunity to find rest, comfort and release from any thoughts he might have about the direction his activities were swiftly carrying him. He knows, and Mary seems able to discern, that he is coming very close to the end, coming closer and closer to the cross.

Jesus kept nothing from his disciples and had warned them of his coming death. But more than that, he told them he was going to die and rise again. The disciples couldn’t absorb the last part of his warning, any more than we could have understood the message had we been there at the time.

But Mary seemed believe and understand and was moved to ensure Jesus could find a little luxurious respite from the inevitable torture he would have to undergo. So she gave all her savings to purchase costly perfumed ointment, designed to soothe body, mind and spirit. The ointment was worth 300 denari, an enormous amount of money for simple working class people but for Mary, every ounce of the perfumed ointment she poured out was worth it. She gave everything she had to show Jesus how much he was loved and to honor all that he was in the world. Most of all, when Jesus saw this gift, he too knew the meaning of such a gift. Such a gift is a profound reflection of what it means to give one’s all, to give all of one’s self in love to another.

We can learn from the very human Mary of Bethany. She was subject to the same human mistakes, range of emotions, regrets, and all the rest just as much as anyone else in her time and just as much as anyone alive today. Yet her gift came from a place in her heart that is not often considered when we think of others, even when we think of them lovingly.

In our Lenten study group, we’ve been talking a lot about the difference between the human heart and the divine heart. The human heart is beset by a million options imposed by the world. What does the world expect? How does the world expect us to act? To respond? How to show love for another? What are the worldly boundaries? What is acceptable behavior in the world?

The divine heart, while aware of normal existence in the world, goes deeper, sees deeper, understands deeper, knows far more deeply than the human heart wants to take time to uncover. The divine heart doesn’t so much react to what seems like a difficult situation, as it does respond in such a way that the difficult situation is made less arduous.

The human heart can love, can like, can feel empathy or compassion. The divine heart expresses all those, yet with a deep knowing that is hard to find, hidden as it is in human hearts. The divine heart recognizes longing and yearning when it see it and moves to respond to that longing. While the human heart takes into consideration the practicalities of a situation for living, the divine heart allows one to let go of those considerations for the benefit of another.

All this leads each one of us to a profound question. What is it that each one of us is willing to let go, willing to surrender, willing to sacrifice in order to show our love for one another and for God?

Now Judas speaks,

“Woman your fine ointment, brand new and expensive

Should have been saved for the poor.

Why has it been wasted? We could have raised maybe

Three hundred silver pieces or more.

People who are hungry, people who are starving

They matter more that your feet or hair.”

By his angry outburst, we begin to understand Judas is thinking with his human heart. He has taken good note of Jesus’ desire to care for the poor and suffering. We heard his admonishment of Mary and by the world’s standards, for good reason. Thinking about the enormous value of the expensive perfume he says that the money spent on the costly stuff could have been spent of the poor. And, thinking about that with our human hearts we would probably agree with Judas.

Of course, John’s Gospel, ever alert to an opportunity to point out the sins of Judas, suggests Judas might have thought he could get his own hands on the money. Whether or not, we humans must admit Judas had a good point when he suggested selling the exotic oil in order to use the money to feed the poor. After all, wasn’t that instruction coming straight from Jesus? Wasn’t his message to everyone around him to to sell their possessions, give the proceeds to the poor, and to become part of his activity in the world? Isn’t that part of his message to us?

Yer, let us be clear. Jesus does not expect us to give away our clothes, our homes, our beds so that we, too, become poor. His message about giving away everything you have is a message to our human hearts to let go of all our worldly viewpoints and perspectives, it’s demands and expectations, and to allow the divine into our hearts to such a point that we are ready and, indeed, able to truly understand, know, love and follow Christ, thus coming to understand what it is that Christ is asking from every one of us, each in our own way.

It is Jesus’ way of saying that in order to follow Jesus, we’ve got to let got of a lot of stuff we don’t need such as jealousy, pride, need for recognition or success, need to accumulate money or possessions and much more. We are to let go of these selfish, self-centered desires and replace them with deep compassion, knowledge of the longings of another, knowledge and understanding of another’s needs and above all, a commitment to uphold the needs of the poor while at the same time, demonstrating absolute understanding, commitment and devotion to Jesus.

As Jesus said, the poor will always be with us and we are called by Jesus to continue caring for the poor in everyway we can. In this world, the poor and suffering are not hard to find, in the streets of our city, families struggling to keep a roof over their heads, to people worldwide who are suffering in a variety of most profound ways due to a variety of causes. To serve the poor is to serve Jesus. Letting go of our worldly possessions, that is, letting go of our human perspectives in order to make way for the divine to enter in, is to serve God. The divine heart will recognize, know and understand God’s divine intention for its purpose and the particular spiritual way in which it can serve the poor, and by doing so, serve God.

What John wants us to understand is that the issue of the costly perfume is not about what the perfume was used for. Rather, the point of this story is to draw our attention to Mary’s spiritual motivation which drove her actions. She allowed herself to leave behind all worldly expectations and judgments about her purchase of the ointment, in order that she would be free to give all of herself, unencumbered by the world, to Jesus. In that gesture, she gave herself to Jesus and all he stood for with a depth of understanding that Judas and most of the others around her could not reach.

In what way will you show Jesus the same? What sacrifice are you willing to make in order to how Jesus the depth of your love for him? Will we continue to protect all of our possessions with rationalization and excuse? What do our human hearts really think about those who give it all up for Christ?

All the possessions, people and places we love are meant to teach us gratitude and to lead us toward living with a divine heart, soul and mind. How we feel about our homes, our relationships, our precious mementos and more provides an opportunity to reflect our gratitude to God and God’s provision of abundance in our lives.

An abundance of belongings, relationships and more, when held with gratitude, becomes the conduit to an outpouring of divine love from a divine heart which leads to divine love being instantly returned, felt and easily recognized. Such is the state of grace.

Even though Judas objected and criticized Mary for her extravagance, as would most of us, as we approach the holiest time of Christian awareness, we accept and understand that Jesus gave all he had, his very life in an act of unconditional love for all the Mary’s, Judas’s, and every one of us in this sanctuary. He asks nothing in return except our own willingness to let go of our worldliness and surrender it and all of ourselves to God.

May we now carry this message of divine, unconditional love with us into Holy Week and beyond. Let us allow ourselves to make space in our human hearts for the Divine. Let us make space for God to dwell there so that our decisions at all levels are directed with overflowing Divine love, for each other, for the poor, and for all that God has created.

Like the expensive gift Mary poured onto the feet of Jesus, Divine Love is that kind of love that will thrill all that receive it, will captivate, will inspire and will spread unchecked into the world and will ultimately save it.

Amen.

Written to the Glory of God

E.J. R. Culver+

April 6, 2025

[i]“Everything’s Alright,” from “Jesus Christ, Superstar,”(1971) Music, Andrew Lloyd Webber. Lyrics by Tim Rice

Begin anywhere.

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