Beloved Creator,
we thank you for sustaining us
through the deepest watches of the night,
and shielding us by your grace and faithful love.
Plant within our hearts
a reverence for your law of love
and a joyful zeal
to share your good news of salvation.
Help us draw all creation
into the fellowship of your kindom, Lord Christ,
seeking your wisdom as a pearl beyond price.
Spirit of the Living God,
place the seal of your blessing over us
by the power of your Holy Name,
and burnish our spirits by the fire of your love,
granting your peace to all whose prayers rise before You.
Amen.
As we reel from the news of a terror attack on Muslims at prayer at two masjids in Christchurch, New Zealand.
O God, You Abide with us
in sunshine or shadow,
in tempest or peace,
our constant companion and protector.
May we worship You in holiness
and live out your commandment of love in our lives.
We ask your forgiveness, O Merciful One,
for our failure to love and honor You
even as your sheltering hand is upon us,
and for our failure to turn our hearts
to the ways of true justice, wisdom, and compassion.
But your mercy is as broad as the celestial plain,
and your grace is the foundation of our lives:
Lord Christ, strengthen us in faith,
and help us turn again to embodying your truth.
Lord of Life,
Spirit of Healing,
we entrust into your care
all the concerns we bear in our hearts,
and ask your peace to rest
upon all whose hope is in You.
Amen.
Almighty One,
we praise You,
grateful for your embrace,
for You are our Rock and our Shield,
our All-in-All.
Your Love, O God, endures forever:
your compassion and care for all of creation holds us fast.
Merciful One, forgive us for all our offenses,
and renew right spirits within us,
that we turn our face toward your light always.
May we remember that our love of You
calls us into unity, fellowship, justice, and peace,
that we reject jealousy, fear, and hatred.
We pray to You for all who are in danger, pain, or anxiety,
and for those who have lost their way.
Press the kiss of your blessing
to the brow of all who call upon You, Lord Christ,
especially those we now remember.
Amen.
Gracious Lord, You are our light and our hope:
accept our prayers and praises
as we seek to do your will.
Help us acknowledge our failures to love,
and sustain us in turning away
from wrongdoing
and faithlessness.
Open our hearts
to the transforming power of the Holy Spirit,
that by your grace
we may serve You and each other.
May we be marked by your love and mercy, Lord Christ,
that we bear your witness into the world.
Extend the shelter of your wings
over those who are in need of comfort and healing,
O Merciful One,
for You are our Hope and our Light.
Amen.
Lord God,
we gather together around your altars this day,
to purify our hearts and minds,
and give thanks for your mercy.
Accept our heartfelt offerings
as we place our lives before You,
that we may serve You with humility and compassion.
We thank You for abiding with us
in the wilderness of our hearts,
and attending to all our needs.
Feed us with the bread of life and hope,
that we be strengthened and unified to worship You.
Let us seek not to rule
but to serve You and each other,
uplifted by the grace and mercy of Christ.
Holy One, You are our Rock;
we rest secure in your embrace,
and fasten all our devotion upon You, our Savior.
Bless and keep us throughout this day, O God,
and envelop those we now pray for with your mercy.
Amen.
Holy One,
God of Blessing,
we worship You.
Grateful for the blessings
that You shower upon us, O Blessed One,
we lift our hearts to You in praise and joy,
ever extolling your strong hand over us.
We repent of the evil that we have done,
the callousness we assume in place of love,
and the cruelties perpetrated in our name.
Forgive us and strengthen us
in wisdom, love, and grace, Blessed Jesus,
that we may proclaim your gospel in our lives.
Extend, we pray, your hand of blessing
and shield all those who seek your comfort,
O Spirit of Healing,
especially those for whom we pray.
Amen.
Once upon a time, a terrible flood swept through a county after devastating rains. County officials sent deputies out to encourage people to leave, and most did, but a few decided to hang tight. The water rose so high that it reached second floors, and so the holdouts had to climb onto their roofs.
Old Mr. Schmidt was one of them. Up there on the roof he waited, and after a couple of hours, a johnboat came by with firemen and some of his neighbors in it. They urged him to get in the boat, but he refused, and finally they had to leave before the current got worse.
Still the waters rose, and now it lapped the gutters. Still Old Mr. Schmidt sat there on the roof.
A bit later, a helicopter hovered overhead and they shouted at him to get in the basket they would lower and come on board, but Old Schmidt stubbornly refused. “God will save me,” he said.
Sadly, it did not end well for Old Schmidt. The water rose higher, covered the roof, and swept him away.
He woke up outside the gates of heaven, and he went up and rang the doorbell. St. Peter greeted him and let him in, exclaiming only that he was surprised to see him so soon.
“Say,” said Schmidt. “What gives? I put my faith in God to save me from that flood, and here I am now in heaven!”
“Why, what do you mean, Schmidt?” responded St. Peter, perplexed.
“Weeelll,” replied Old Schmidt, “I obviously drowned. God didn’t act to save me!”
“You’re wrong, son,” said St. Peter. “Three times God tried to intervene, and three times you turned down each one.”
“How so?” exclaimed Schmidt, astonished.
“I think I would remember God trying to save me.”
St. Peter put his hand on Schmidt’s shoulder. “Listen, God sent you those deputies to tell you to leave, and you said no. God sent you that johnboat, and still you said no. God even sent a helicopter, but you said no!”
“But I was expecting a miracle!” Schmidt protested.
“The miracle was in the deputies, and the johnboat, and the helicopter, son—and God giving you the reason the be able to see that. But come on in anyway,” said the saint, and he led Schmidt through the gates.
Temptation is a funny thing. It works differently on everyone. In our gospel reading today, starting off Lent, we get an account of Jesus being tempted, and I don’t know about you, but I have always found that comforting.
Just like with Old Schmidt, sometimes our greatest temptation is not to recognize God’s providence in our own lives—to realize that God’s grace works in and through others, more often than not, which doesn’t make that saving help any less sacred or holy. The converse of that is to then enjoin us to remember that we are called as disciples to work and act to help others as a way of making manifest God’s saving hand in the lives of those around us.
Old Schmidt may not have realized it, but he was putting God to the test in a way that our gospel strongly warns all of us against.
Our scene picks up right after Jesus’s baptism. He is filled with the Holy Spirit, who sends him into the wilderness to encounter temptation. For 40 days—always a significant number in scripture—Jesus fasts and purifies himself. Specifically, the parallel here is the Israelites’ exodus journey in the wilderness after they escaped slavery in Egypt.
The temptations that the Evil One lays before Jesus are related to this tendency of independence in all of us. Three times, the Evil One tries to get Jesus to put God to the test. We also get a picture of the Evil One trying to use scripture to get Jesus to act in ways that denied God’s providence, and Jesus quoting scripture—specifically the book of Deuteronomy-- right back at him each time. Let’s examine each temptation for a few moments.
After 40 days of fasting, Jesus is close to starving. Thus the first temptation is eminently practical—tempting Jesus to assuage his hunger and turn stones into bread. Here the temptation is for Jesus to put his powers to work not for others but to satisfy his own self-interest. Remember that Israel hungered in the desert, and complained to God and Moses about it quite ungratefully--and God provided manna and quail.
Second, Satan makes an offer of political power. He tries to tempt Jesus to use his powers to gain earthly political power, and fulfill the role of Messiah that the people wanted, instead of the role of Messiah that God had intended. In its ancient history as attested by scripture Israel had constantly sought to play God’s power off against the gods of their neighbors, and frequently fell into the habit of worshipping other gods, such as Baal, Ashtoreth, and Molech. For Israel, God WAS their ruler in the desert, and worshipping other gods was most certainly a political act. They turned away from acknowledging God’s sovereignty over them when they demanded a king, just like their neighbors had, after they were settled. Jesus’s refusal reminds us that God is our true ruler, the one to whom we owe our allegiance rather than setting ourselves up as the only kings we recognize.
Third, Satan tries to lure Jesus into testing the love and protection of God for Jesus. Satan quotes verses from our same Psalm we heard just a few minutes ago, too. This temptation attempts to get Jesus to manipulate God by testing his care over him, just like Old Schmidt. And the problem with that kind of thinking is that it diminishes God and attempts to make God our servant, rather than reminding us that we serve God. Israel did this as well in Exodus, when they demanded water in the midst of the desert, and God used Moses to make water flow out of the rock.
Psalm 91 IS a powerful act of thanksgiving for God’s continued love and care over us. But the promises in this psalm—especially in the verses 9-12 -- are also a temptation. They tempt us to try to manipulate God, to use God as a lucky rabbit’s foot (and if rabbit’s feet are so lucky, what about the rabbit who has provided these little charms? I imagine he doesn’t feel very lucky, hobbling around on his little crutches, poor thing). Satan uses verses 11-12 to tempt Jesus into manipulating God into fulfilling the promise quoted in this section.
And this is where I think many of us feel some connection to our own lives, if we are honest. It IS so very tempting to attempt to shrink God down into something we have control over, something we can understand.
This is our arrogance that God is not necessary for salvation—that somehow WE can save ourselves, and that blessings we receive comes through to us through our own agency rather than through the loving-kindness of God.
We WANT to believe that, “If I do X, then God will have to do Y,” but that is not how the world operates.
This type of thinking is usually created when bad things happen even when we are being good, in our estimation, and wonder why we are being “punished,” or think that if we just pray hard enough or make a deal with God we will get what we want. There is an assumption there that God owes us something, and that we are blameless. We want to think that ultimately we are in control.
So we see today’s reading as a fitting start to Lent for us to ponder. There is a blessing here too—knowing that God is with us no matter what befalls us, and calls us to return again to God’s embrace again and again and again, no matter how often we fall short. We place ourselves under the discipline of Lent not as a way of punishing ourselves or testing ourselves, but of putting our trust a little bit more in God.
As we are invited into 40 days of reflection, repentance, and renewal, may we never forget that the point is not to be shamed or scared, but to grow deeper into our trust and faith in God.
Amen.
Readings:
Deuteronomy 26:1-11
Psalm 91: 1-2, 9-16
Romans 10:8b-13
Luke 4:1-13
Preached at the 505 on March 9, and at the 8:00 and 10:15 services on March 10, at St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville.
Blessed Redeemer,
let our prayers rise to you in the morning light,
recounting our thankfulness and trust.
Hold us within the bounds of your love, Holy One,
even when we wander afield.
Protect us and shield us
from falling into sin and error,
keeping our hearts and minds centered within your Spirit.
Help us to hold within our hearts
all who suffer or are lost
or entangled in webs of pain.
Lord Christ, hear our prayer:
comfort those whom we remember before You,
and grant them peace as we pray.
Amen.
Almighty God,
You have made us for yourself,
and blessed creation with your love and care:
we offer up our thanks and praise.
We offer sincere repentance for our manifold sins,
and ask strength and wisdom
to renew our journey with You, O Christ.
May we remember
that we can never build ourselves up
at another's expense,
and turn away from pride and fear.
Help us to walk the pilgrim's path
of love, justice, and unity,
working together for the repair of the world.
May we open our hearts
to bind up the wounds of those around us, Lord God,
embodying your mercy and compassion
for all creation.
On bended knee we ask your blessing this day,
O Holy One,
and remember the needs of our loved ones before You.
Amen.
How ironic that we have a gospel that warns us against the practice of a public piety on a day when many Christians mark their foreheads with ashes and wear them all the rest of the day?
Yet I think there are good words in our gospel today to serve as a reminder of what this day is all about.
It’s trendy to talk about “giving things up for Lent”—even people who do not normally make a big show of their faith talk about it. But I think we need to be careful, lest our Lenten fasts—because that is what that is, a fast from something—become the center of our attention, or the discipline of giving up chocolate or soda or whatever becomes a test of one’s own will rather than an offering up to God of our determination to repent from all that has distracted us from our love and worship of God, and from our love and care of each other, throughout the rest of the year.
Let’s be honest—how often have we chosen something to give up for Lent based on how peripheral it really is to our lives, and with a subtle understanding that we can give it up for these next 7 weeks without too much real disruption to our daily business? I know I have been guilty of that myself.
What if we rethought the idea of fasting completely, and aligned it more properly with the true purpose of Lent: which is to center ourselves more firmly into a God-centered and directed life, a life lived not just for denying ourselves treats but in treating ourselves—and each other, no matter who those others are-- as God wants us to do?
Pope Francis has been attributed with these suggestions on the subject of fasting during Lent:
If you really want to fast this Lent,
Fast from hurtful words and instead say kind words in their place.
Fast from the sadness caused by discontent and instead be filled with gratitude.
Fast from anger and instead be filled with patience.
Fast from pessimism and instead be filled with hope.
Fast from worries and instead have trust in God.
Fast from complaints and instead contemplate simplicity.
Fast from pressures and instead be prayerful.
Fast from bitterness and instead fill your hearts with joy.
Fast from selfishness and instead be compassionate to others.
Fast from grudges and instead be reconciled.
Fast from words and instead be silent so you can listen.
When we seek to offer a sacrifice to God, may we remember that the purpose of a sacrifice is not pain and denial, but to make ourselves holy, and making ourselves holy is a step toward making ourselves whole and at peace within the bounds of God’s mercy. It is a reminder to us of our dependence upon something outside of ourselves that God’s word insists over and over again throughout scripture is the heart of the gift of being fully human in God’s image.
As we are marked with the ashes today, ashes derived from the palm fronds from previous Palm Sundays, may we remember that the ashes originated in rejoicing, in proclaiming Jesus as our ruler and Lord within our lives.
As we are reminded that we are dust, and to dust we shall return, may we remember that ashes are not just a sign of mourning but a reminder of our union with all creation, and that being dust makes us kindred of the stars that dance overhead, and set ourselves the task, during these 40 blessed days, to be drawn back into the knowledge of our one-ness with all things, our fellowship with even the most common stuff of creation, and be drawn therefore into love and care with each other and with all the whole earth, that we may we dies to the casual sins of complacency and disdain that so pervades too much of our world, and instead live in gratitude and joy --starting today and for the rest of our lives.
These ashes do not just remind us of our ending and our death. These ashes are really a sign of renewal, of unity, of hope.
They remind us of our beginning—formed by the hand of God, who breathed life into us from God’s own Spirit, the God who then gave us God’s Son as the ultimate sign of how beloved we all are—all of us. No exceptions. I am convinced that living out our days embodying that truth would be the greatest, most holy fast of all.
Let us dedicate ourselves to the true fast to which God calls us.
Please join with me in prayer.
Humbly, let us kneel before our God,
opening our hearts to examine and purify them
for Love's sake.
Holy One, you are the True Vine,
our Portion and our Cup,
our Model of Mercy and Justice.
We acknowledge before You
and each other
our manifold sins and wavering intentions,
and ask forgiveness.
Teach us to walk
not in fear
but in integrity, mercy, and love,
and gentle our warring spirits, we pray.
Cleanse and deliver us
from all envy, jealousy, and hatred,
from all that seeks to diminish another
for our own benefit.
Lord, reconcile us to right relationships;
teach us to follow you as our true North Star.
Gentle Savior, you knock at the door
and ask to abide within us:
make us worthy to receive you.
You call us to be your Body in the world,
your witness against evil,
and to reflect your light
through the storms and trials of life.
In all we do,
may we seek to abide in You
in fellowship and compassion.
Lord, we remember before You
those who are in pain, sorrow,
or any kind of trouble.
Send your Spirit to guide us into redemption,
and grant respite and comfort to those for whom we pray.
Amen.
Preached at the noon and 7 pm service at St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville, on March 6, 2019.
Most Holy God,
we humbly come before You,
seeking pardon and reconciliation from You
and all whom we have wronged.
Mark us as your own today, O God, we pray,
that we may remember
our covenant of devotion
with You and each other.
We open our hearts to You:
refine and purify us,
that we may be filled with compassion and humility.
We open our minds to You:
refine and purify us,
that we may be filled with your wisdom and truth.
We open our souls to You:
refine and purify us,
that your Spirit may live within us always
and guide us to new life and hope.
May we focus all our efforts
on building your kingdom
and living out your Word, Almighty Ruler.
Hear the prayers, thanksgivings,
and supplications
of your people, Gracious One.
Amen.
Holy One of Blessing,
You surround us with your radiance
as we lift our hearts to You,
praising your hand of healing and protection
within our lives.
Bring us out of error into truth, O God,
and help us proclaim your limitless mercy,
which seeks the restoration and renewal
of all creation to true peace and justice.
Give us the wisdom to seek You, Lord Christ,
and to invite you to dwell within us;
to forgive as we have been forgiven,
and to grow ever deeper in unity with each other,
feeling each other's pain as our own.
Guide, we pray, the hearts and the minds
of all those who work for healing in the world,
especially doctors, nurses, surgeons,
caregivers and therapists,
and grant your comfort to all who are in their care,
O Spirit of Wholeness and Healing.
Beloved Savior,
empower us by your compassion,
that we may serve you
and testify
to your wondrous reconciling heart.
Place your hand of comfort and grace
upon all whose hope rests in You, O God,
as we pray.
Amen.
Most Merciful One,
we open our eyes under your watchful gaze,
and ask your blessing to rest upon us as we praise You.
Cast the mantle of your compassionate wisdom
over us as a blessing, O God,
and invite us deeper into your Truth.
May Christ be at play
in our hearts today,
that our joy may be complete
as we proclaim our fellowship with all creation.
Strengthen us in discipleship
and mold our wills to seek your glory
that all our actions may sing out your Name.
Hold us in the hollow of your heart, Lord Christ,
and let your compassionate gaze
rest ever upon those who seek you
as we pray.
Amen.
Way back in the days of the Scoopmire family BC—before children—Bill and I went in with some friends and rented a cabin in Silverton, CO, during the first two weeks of August. One of the most amazing things we got to experience during that time there was the Perseid meteor shower, when the Earth passes through the tail of a comet every year and lights up the night sky.
Being at 10,000 feet made it all seem much more immediate. The stars already seemed close enough to touch—and when those meteors started whooshing and flaring through the midnight sky, it felt like they zinged right overhead.
No wonder then that the ancients believed that mountaintops were “thin places”—and they weren’t just talking about oxygen levels. So many cultures associate mountain tops with coming close to the divine. The Jewish faith is no different. In the book of Exodus, Moses ascended a mountain to talk with God, and when he came down, his face shone so brightly that the people begged him to wear a veil because the light radiating from his visage scared the daylights out of them.
Luke often portrays Jesus as going up on a mountain to pray, and this week’s gospel is no exception.
Jesus takes along three of his disciples—Peter, John, and James—and gone off from them a ways to pray. He is at it so long that they have started to nod off a bit, perhaps. Yet even if they had been drowsy, the sudden change to their eyes of Jesus’s appearance probably hit them like a bolt of lightning. Yet there is also a Biblical pun here: the text says they see not actually Jesus but his “glory”—a word associated with God Godself. Yet in Hebrew, the word for glory is kevod, or “heaviness. So they see the weight of God’s majesty shining out while they are weighed down with sleep.
In a moment, and note that it was during prayer, Jesus’s face and indeed whole body and garments become blindingly white, light radiating out from him in a way that perhaps we modern people cannot fully appreciate, what with our spotlights and stadium lights and so on. Our text says that they saw two men with Jesus, and somehow knew it was Moses and Elijah, which has always puzzled me—did they have nametags on? But it is obvious that what is again being revealed here, 8 days after Jesus has foretold his passion and death, is the joining of the inauguration of the Kingdom of God embodied by Jesus to the law, represented by Moses, and the Prophets, represented by the greatest prophet of Biblical times—Elijah. And the disciples could hear that Moses and Elijah are talking to Jesus about what awaits him eventually in Jerusalem. But as soon as they are spotted by the disciples, they depart themselves.
Peter is so overcome in his senses that he begins babbling about building three dwellings and staying on the mountain forever. Then, to top it off, a cloud descends, and from it the voice of God is heard, echoing Jesus’s rise from the water of baptism, declaring Jesus’s status as the Chosen and urging them to listen to him. Then poof! Moses and Elijah are gone, and the four men are once again alone on the mountain.
Now, if our story stopped there, that would be enough of a story on its own. Those of us who have ever had a sublime experience, whether secular or religious, can all probably relate to the wish that it never end. Peter and James and John get to see with their own eyes Jesus as he really is as the Son of God, and it overwhelms each and every one of their senses, it seems.
It’s important to remember that Jesus is not CHANGED here, but REVEALED. This is not a story of transformation but of revelation. Transfiguration is the revelation of Jesus’s true nature, an insistent exclamation point on all the signs he has embodied that point to his divine nature dwelling in the same space as his human nature.
And then Jesus comes down and is confronted with the child in need of healing. In a few moments, Jesus, without a word to the demon or indeed to the father who has begged his help, restores the boy to full health. In a way, this is yet another miraculous transfiguration, a revelation of the boy truly is without the weight of his illness marring his health and wholeness.
I think in placing these two stories next to each other, Luke is reminding us that merely experiencing closeness to God is not enough. Even when one person around us is experiencing the mountaintop, another person next to us may be experiencing the torment of the valley.
It’s like that reminder that everyone around us is carrying invisible burdens we do not know about, so be kind. Yet Jesus is more than kind: even with the glory of God still clinging to him, he rolls up his sleeves and gets about the real work of God's kingdom-- which is not showy lights or voices booming from clouds, but rather is dedicated to restoring people to wholeness and shalom, healing and ministering to others on account of the love of God that sustains us all.
We are meant to allow God's love to reveal our true natures, lifting the weight of cynicism and self-centeredness which is so lionized in our culture, and instead bear God's glory down from the mountain into the valley where so many people struggle, empowered by our encounter with the Holy One to be fully human, and therefore fully children of God.
As we leave behind Epiphany with its emphasis on light, with this last brilliant arc against the stillness and darker hues of Lent, may we always bear this reminder, and seek Christ’s face, not just for ourselves, but as a way of empowering our healing presence in the world. May we invite in the light of Christ to transfigure us to reveal our true natures as children of God. May we remember that the mountaintop and the valley are always alongside each other, and be unafraid to enter into the unfamiliar world both represent.
Amen.
Readings:
Exodus 34:29-35
Psalm 99
2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2
Luke 9:28-43a
Preached at the 505 on March 2 and at the 8:00 and the 10:15 services on March 3, 2019, at St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville.
Blessed be the Name of the Lord,who lifts us up and places us upon the solid rock:let us give thanks to God!
Enter into the inmost center of our being, O Holy One,and anoint us with your Spirit,that we may cling to your love.
Let us make our home in the embrace of God,who abides with us and guards all our ways.
May we be filled with the light of Christ:may it pour forth from our hearts to illumine our path,and guide us home.
May we be transformedand radiate the love of Christ into a worldfamished for hope and peace.
Beloved Savior, envelop us within your care,and place your blessing upon those we now name.
Amen.1292
Beloveds, let us arise
and seek the hand of Wisdom;
her voice is sweeter than a nightingale's
as she calls us deeper into unity with our God.
Loving Creator, we worship You
as the curtain of night is pulled aside
to reveal the wonders of your works.
Renew and restore the spirits of the faithful, we pray:
make us humble and holy,
united in empathy and justice
to be the loving bearers of Christ in the world.
We offer you our prayers and praises:
hear the whispered burdens of our hearts,
the cares and concerns
which we lay in your generous hand, O God,
as we pray.
Amen.
In the name of the Merciful One,Love drapes over us like a silken garmenttrusting in us to wear her proudlyeven when raindrops threaten;so too boldly may we enflesh our faithto bear healing into the hurting places of the world.
Arise, O Wisdom, and lead us,that we may embrace new hopeand claim our place as your disciples,devoted to the light you kindle within us that we may shine with joyand banish the shadows that linger.
Let us take the hand of the fearfuland comfort the aching hearts among us,as our Savior Christ teaches us,that we may wear his name with justice.
Almighty Creator, bend near;hear the whispered prayers of your people,and enfold those for whom we praywithin your steadfast embrace.
Amen.
