Prayer Service for Election Day 2024

 

The Golden Rule, Norman Rockwell, 1961, 

Donated to the United Nations Headquarters from the United States of America

Prayer Service for Election Day

November 5, 2024

8:00 am online

St. Martin’s Episcopal Church,

Ellisville, MO

 

 

Breathe and Center Yourself at the Ringing of the Bell.

Opening Words

Celebrant:   God is Spirit, 

and those who worship must worship in spirit and in truth.          (John 4:24)

People:       We are no longer strangers and sojourners, but citizens together 

with the Saints and members of the household of God.        (Ephesians 2:19)

Celebrant:   Let us pray.

 

Collect for an Election    (in unison)                                              BCP, p. 822

Almighty God, to whom we must account for all our powers and privileges: 

Guide the people of the United States 

and of this community

in the election of officials and representatives; 

that, by faithful administration and wise laws, 

the rights of all may be protected 

and our nation be enabled to fulfill your purposes; 

through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

 

The Readings

 

A Reading from the Book of Isaiah.                                          Isaiah 58:6-12

 

Is not this the fast that I choose:
   to loose the bonds of injustice,
   to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
   and to break every yoke? 
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
   and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them,
   and not to hide yourself from your own kin? 
Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
   and your healing shall spring up quickly;
your vindicator shall go before you,
   the glory of the Lord shall be your rearguard. 
Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
   you shall cry for help, and God will say, Here I am. 

If you remove the yoke from among you,
   the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, 
if you offer your food to the hungry
   and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,
then your light shall rise in the darkness
   and your gloom be like the noonday. 
The Lord will guide you continually,
   and satisfy your needs in parched places,
   and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
   like a spring of water,
   whose waters never fail. 
Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
   you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called the repairer of the breach,
   the restorer of streets to live in. 

 

Reader:       The Word of the Lord.

People:       Thanks be to God.

 

 

Canticle N   (In Unison)             A Song of God’s Love                           1 John 4:7-11

 

Beloved, let us love one another, 

for love is of God. 

Whoever does not love does not know God, 

for God is Love. 

In this the love of God was revealed among us, 

that God sent God’s only Son into the world, 

so that we might live through Jesus Christ. 

In this is love, not that we loved God but that God loved us 

and sent God’s son that sins might be forgiven. 

Beloved, since God loved us so much, 

we are also to love one another. 

For if we love one another, God abides in us, 

and God's love will be perfected in us. 

 

 

A Reading from the Gospel of Matthew.                         Matthew 20:25-28

Priest:         The Holy Gospel of Our Savior Jesus Christ according to Matthew.

 

But Jesus called them over and said, “You know that those who rule the Gentiles show off their authority over them and their high-ranking officials order them around.  But that’s not the way it will be with you. Whoever wants to be great among you will be your servant. Whoever wants to be first among you will be your slave— just as the Human One didn’t come to be served but rather to serve and to give his life to liberate many people.”

 

Reader:         The Word of the Lord.

People:        Thanks be to God.

 

The Prayers

 

A Litany for Sound Government                                         from Forward Movement

 

Intercessor: O Lord our Governor, bless the leaders of our land, that we may be a people at peace among ourselves and a blessing to other nations of the earth.

People:       Lord, keep this nation under your care.

 

Intercessor: To the President and members of the Cabinet, to Governors of States, Mayors of Cities, and to all in administrative authority, grant wisdom and grace in the exercise of their duties.

People:       Give grace to your servants, O Lord.

 

Intercessor: To Senators and Representatives, and those who make our laws in States, Cities, and Towns, give courage, wisdom, and foresight to provide for the needs of all our people, and to fulfill our obligations in the community of nations.

People:       Give grace to your servants, O Lord.

 

Intercessor: To the Judges and officers of our Courts give understanding and integrity, that human rights may be safeguarded and justice served.

People:       Give grace to your servants, O Lord.

 

Intercessor:  And finally, teach our people to rely on your strength and to accept their responsibilities to their fellow citizens, that they may elect trustworthy leaders and make wise decisions for the well-being of our society; that we may serve you faithfully in our generation and honor your holy Name.

All:             For yours is the kingdom, O Lord, and you are exalted as head above all. Amen.

 

Presider:

Almighty God, 

the source of all wisdom,

give grace to all those who will vote in the election,

and bless with your spirit of humility and charity

all who will be elected to public office.

Make your kingdom of love visible among us,

and make all things subject to your just and gentle rule,

through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Prayers for an Election

Written by The Rev. Shannon Kelly, Director Department of Faith Formation, The Episcopal Church

 

Celebrant:

Loving God, Creator of this world, who is our source of our wisdom and understanding, watch over this nation during this time of election. Help us to see how our faith informs our principles and actions.

Intercessor: God, our Creator,

People:       Guide us in truth and love.

 

Intercessor: We give thanks for the right to vote. Help us to hold this privilege and responsibility with the care and awareness it merits, realizing that our vote matters and that it is an act of faith.

Intercessor: God, our Creator,

People:       Guide us in truth and love.

 

Intercessor: Guide us through this election as a nation, state, and community as we vote for people to do work on our behalf and on the behalf of our communities. Help us to vote for people and ballot initiatives that will better our community and our world so it may reflect the values Christ taught us.

Intercessor: God, our Creator,

People:       Guide us in truth and love.

 

Intercessor: Help us create communities that will build your kingdom here on earth – communities that will protect the poor, stand up for the vulnerable, advocate for those who are not seen and heard, and listen to everyone’s voice.

Intercessor: God, our Creator,

People:       Guide us in truth and love.

 

Intercessor: We pray for this nation that is deeply divided. May we come together for the common good and do as you have called us to do – to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with you through creation.

Intercessor: God, our Creator,

People:       Guide us in truth and love.

 

Intercessor: Help us act out of love, mercy and justice rather than out of arrogance or fear.

Intercessor: God, our Creator,

People:       Guide us in truth and love.

 

Intercessor: Lord, continue to guide us as we work for the welfare of this world. We pray for places that are torn by violence, that they may know peace.

Intercessor: God, our Creator,

People:       Guide us in truth and love.

 

Intercessor: We pray for communities who are struggling with inequality, unrest, and fear. May we all work toward reconciliation with one another and with God.

Intercessor: God, our Creator,

People:       Guide us in truth and love.

 

Intercessor: Help us to listen in love, work together in peace, and collaborate with one another as we seek the betterment of our community and world. 

Intercessor: God, our Creator,

People:       Guide us in truth and love.

 

A Time of Silent Reflection and Intercession from Your Heart is Observed.

 

Confession

Priest:   Let us reflect, and confess our sins against God and our neighbor

 

All:

Almighty God, Source of all that is, Giver of every good gift: 

You create all people in your image 

and call us to love one another as you love us. 

We confess that we have failed to honor you 

in the great diversity of the human family. 

We have desired to live in freedom, 

while building walls between ourselves and others. 

We have longed to be known and accepted for who we are, 

while making judgements of others based on the color of skin, 

or the shape of features, 

or the varieties of human experience. 

We have tried to love our neighbors individually 

while yet benefitting from systems 

that hold those same neighbors in oppression. 

 

Forgive us, Holy God.

Give us eyes to see you as you are revealed in all people.

Strengthen us for the work of reconciliation rooted in love.

Restore us in your image, to be beloved community,

united in our diversity, 

even as you are one with Christ and the Spirit,

Holy and undivided Trinity,

now and forever. Amen.

 

The Priest then offers absolution and assurance of God’s grace and love:

May Almighty God have mercy on us,

grant us courage and conviction,

and strengthen us to love others who are unlike us.

May God, the holy and undivided Trinity,

make us compassionate in our actions

and courageous in our works,

that we may see Christ's Beloved Community in our own day. Amen.

Collect for Social Justice                                                           BCP p. 823

Grant, O God, that your holy and life-giving Spirit 

may so move every human heart 

and especially the hearts of the people of this land, 

that barriers which divide us may crumble, 

suspicions disappear, 

and hatreds cease; 

that our divisions being healed, we may live in justice and peace; 

through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

 

Collect for Our Country (read responsorially)                          Diocese of Missouri

O God, where hearts are fearful and constricted, 

grant courage and hope. 

Where anxiety is infectious and widening, 

grant peace and reassurance. 

Where impossibilities close every door and window, 

grant imagination and resistance. 

Where distrust twists our thinking, 

grant healing and illumination. 

Where spirits are daunted and weakened, 

grant soaring wings and strengthened dreams; 

in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

 

The Blessing 

Live without fear: 

your creator has made you holy,

has always protected you,

and loves you as a mother.

 

Go out into the world in peace;

have courage;

hold on to what is good;

return no one evil for evil;

strengthen the faint hearted;

support the weak, and help the suffering;

honor all people;

love and serve the Lord, rejoicing in the power of the Holy Spirit.

 

Go in peace to follow the good road,

and may the blessing of God Almighty be with you always:

In the name of the Creator, and the Redeemer, and the Life Giving Spirit.

Amen.

 

 

Dismissal

Celebrant:   Go in peace, to love and serve the Lord.

People:       Thanks be to God.

Broadcast On Facebook Live on November 5, 2024 at 8:00 am

Prayer 4292

On this crisp morning,
let my heart sing a song of gratitude,
that I may like with eyes of wonder
upon this world of delicate beauty
your fingers have woven, O my God.

Let me sing out
the praise of your encompassing lovingkindness
sustaining all that is
in each moment.

Holy One, Shepherd of Our Souls,
guide us into deeper knowledge of you
and grant us the wisdom to live in love and faithfulness
with purity of heart and intention.

In your abundant compassion,
spread the awning of your mercy
over those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Known By Our Love: Sermon for Proper 24B, 22nd Sunday After Pentecost

What does it mean to have power? And what is the purpose of having power?

Is it so that you can have everything your own way? Is it to be able to lord it over others, and have people bow and scrape before you? Or is it so that you can do the most good for the greatest number of people you can? What if doing that good costs you something?

This is the dilemma Jesus and his apostles spread before us today.

It’s not like Jesus hasn’t tried to tell his closest followers that being Messiah means exactly the opposite of being the emperor of Rome. He’s described that he will be handed over, and suffer, and die. He will do this for the sake of the world—to destroy the forces of death and violence that we humans have set loose upon this world.

The words are literally sting hanging in the air, and James and John apparently have been nodding absently while cooking up a plot to grab the seats of honor “in glory.” Yet for weeks now, we have been hearing Jesus not just predict his passion and death, but also telling his disciples that those who are on the top will be on the bottom, and that those on the bottom will be on the top. One also wonders if they were thinking that the coming of Jesus’s kingdom is going to be as the result of an actual political coup. For the third time, Jesus tells what awaits them in Jerusalem, and for a third time the disciples miss the entire point.

For those of us who know what’s coming, there’s some irony here: we know who is going to end up on Jesus’s right and left at the end of this road: it leads to Calvary, to Golgotha, and it’s NOT two followers of Jesus, but rather, a thief and a murderer hanging on a cross on Jesus’s right and left. Mark picks up on that irony.

Jesus then asks if they really think they can “drink the cup that I drink”—a reference to a cup of suffering that Jeremiah foretold, the cup that Jesus will pray to be taken from him in Mark 14:36 when he is praying on the night before his betrayal. The “baptism” that Jesus will undergo is likewise one of fire and death and betrayal through which he will pass to resurrection. James and John affirm that they can—perhaps a bit too quickly. Again, it seems that they are not really listening, that they do not really understand Jesus.

And then, as soon as the other disciples hear of what James and John are attempting, they get upset—but not because they have gotten Jesus’s message about service, but because probably they too were dreaming of asking for those positions of power and glory.

Now, don’t think I am using the lucky gift of hindsight to make fun of the disciples or mock them. Instead, I think about how lucky we are to see that the disciples were, really JUST LIKE US.

Jesus has laid out for them three times exactly what risks they are taking following him, and exactly what risks he is taking for himself. Someone who goes around criticizing the power structures of the world ends up very often at the very least unpopular and at the very worst dead—because even people who get abused by those same power structures nonetheless often support them, because they can’t imagine there being any other way being any better, or they think, “Well I may be struggling, but this system at least ensures that I’m not on the absolute bottom, because I HATE those people on the bottom”—fill in the blank with any likely group—the poor, the refugee, people from a different country or race, whatever.

Maybe the disciples DO have a sense of impending danger, even while they seem to not fully understand what Jesus is saying. And it’s a common thing that when we feel endangered, we try to take care of ourselves, first. Let’s be honest, don’t we feel grateful when we’re on a plane and the flight attendant tells us that, in case of emergency, we should put our own masks on first? Yay, that’s what we wanted to hear anyway!

Yet that is exactly the opposite of what Jesus has been urging for these many weeks. When we think there’s not enough to go around, our first reaction unfortunately is not to share what we’ve got but to hoard up resources for ourselves—which further multiplies the suffering if there truly is a shortage of resources. That’s kind of the challenge Jesus put in front of that wealthy man last week. If you’ve got a lot, and those around you have nothing, and you let that stand in the way of truly following me, you need to rethink how exactly it is you follow all of those commandments we just talked about. There’s a reason why, my friends, in our confession we are called to truly consider and turn back from both the things we have done, and the things we have left undone.

So what does it mean to be a Christian? Does it mean committing ourselves to a life of giving up things, of denial, of sacrifice?

Well yes—in a way. Jesus calls us to give up the idea of our own powerlessness to work for change. Jesus calls us to denial of the forces that are built on hatred, of causing others to suffer for our benefit. Jesus calls us to sacrifice, but so that we can be investors in the growth of God’s kingdom and God’s message.

Jesus doesn’t ask for empty words of belief. Jesus asks for us to roll up our sleeves, and commit ourselves to following Jesus as the biggest love of our lives. That doesn’t mean everything will go smoothly in our live of faith—far from it, as Jesus insists again and again. But Jesus called us into community so we would have each other in those hard times. So that we would commit to each other as well as to Jesus in love. And when you love something, you dedicate everything you have to making it thrive. 

Jesus specifically doesn't call us to intimidate, or to use his name as a code word for domination. I thought of that when my spouse came home yesterday from getting groceries, and he told me there was a group of people from a local church in the parking lot there handing out Bibles-- and then he noticed that one of them was wearing a gun on their hip, right out there in the open. Would you take a Bible from that guy, from someone trying to intimidate others? What might someone who has little knowledge of Jesus assume about our Savior when seeing this?

Jesus is trying to explain to us this fact: that as his followers, who share in his baptism and his cup, we both live in the heart of God and in the broken places in the world. We are the church of St. Martin all together here, worshiping and giving thanks, but that we also have to be the church of St. Martin out there, where people need us to show us who God is in the face of poverty, exploitation, fear, and division. We discover who we are called to be in being brave enough to turn the values of the world on its head to reflect the love of God in a world that thirsts for it.

Maybe this leads to disillusionment for many—for that rich man last week, for the apostles this week, for us any time we feel uncomfortable with the living out of that commandment to love God and each other with all we’ve got when at the same time we are afraid what we’ve got isn’t enough for ourselves, which is what the forces of division and acquisitiveness want us to believe. Or we are being told that those around us simply want to take everything from us. We live bombarded by lies like that every day. But as Episcopal preacher Barbara Brown Taylor said, “Disillusionment is the loss of illusion—about ourselves, about the world, about God—and while it is almost always painful, it is not a bad thing to lose the lies we have mistaken for truth.”

We will close our worship today with one of my favorite hymns I remember from my childhood. Its simplicity is only outshone by the truth that simplicity bears.

We are ONE in the Spirit, we are ONE in the Lord,
And we pray that ALL UNITY will one day be restored.
And they’ll know we are Christians by our love.

And then, especially in this vitally important election season, and in this vitally important stewardship season, I know I am grateful for this verse:

We will work with each other, we will work side by side
And we’ll guard each one’s dignity and save each one’s pride
And they’ll know we are Christians by our love.

Love that expresses itself in caring for others, and working to bring that to fruition. In working to create a society that seeks the greatest good for the greatest number of people, that is grounded in unity rather than division and in love rather than hate.

To walk in love together, so that we change the world by that collective effort, and by that love.

To serve the world, rather than to seek power for our own ends. To challenge exploitation or neglect of the weak or the sick or the ignorant or the oppressed.

To challenge the idea that a few people are meant to lord it over the vast majority of others.

To refuse to get comfortable with the idea that some people deserve to suffer based on who they are or what they’ve done or where they’ve come from, and get numb to that very real suffering with the idea that we can’t do anything about it rather than admit we “won’t” do anything about it, no matter how small.

Our challenge is to BE the church in the world, each and every one of us as individuals, in what we say and what we do, and how we live, in serving the many people who need help or protection or community, so that we can make the case that the church IS visible and relevant in the issues facing the world today. That our paradoxical values are exactly what is needed in offering hope where there is despair, a willingness to engage in the questions alongside people rather than pretend we have all the answers, in being willing to love those who are ignored or overlooked or isolated, in willing to serve rather than to be served.

Being Christian is not about power—except for the power of love. It’s not about forcing others to live as we —it’s about living the best life we can live because that in and of itself is a blessing. May we declare ourselves able to share that baptism and that cup.

And they’ll know we are Christians by our love. Love in action, love in the cause we stand for—the redemption of the world through the power of love.

Amen.

Readings:

Job 38:1-7, (34-41)
Psalm 104:1-9, 25, 37b
Hebrews 5:1-10
Mark 10:35-45

Preached at St. Martin's Church in Ellisville MO on October 20, 2024.

Image: The Red Vineyard, Vincent Van Gogh, 1888

Spirits in a Material World, Sermon for Proper 23B

Back in the 1980s, MTV ruled the airwaves. The empowerment of youth was a constant theme, and gender expectations were often turned on their heads: Cyndi Lauper took a song written for a male voice and laughed her way through “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.” Robert Palmer took a song written for a female voice and stood in a Savile Row suit in front of mini-skirted writhing supermodels pretending to be his backup band claiming innocence as he crooned to a randy date “I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On.”

Dire Straits, a group of decidedly unglamorous blues rockers from England, created the theme song for MTV with the song “Money for Nothing,” about a real-life conversation their frontman heard between two deliverymen in an appliance store.

As the workers watched music videos, they resent their existence delivering expensive machinery to yuppies and consider that their career choices might be a dead end. Instead, they moan after the glamorous life of a pop star:

“Look at them yo-yos
That’s the way you do it
You play the guitar on your MTV
Aw, that ain’t working
That’s the way you do it
Money for nothing and your chicks for free.”(1)

And we all laughed (including the programmers at MTV itself, as they put the video into heavy rotation)—because we heard our parents complain exactly the same thing to us every hour that we had MTV going full blast.

And the queen of MTV was Madonna, who, like many female stars of the visual medium, had started out as a dancer until someone plopped a mic in front of her, lacquered her blond hair in crunchy waves, and cut all the hems, sleeves, and necklines off her outfits. Her life was filled with glamour and provocation—especially viewed with alarm by our parents. She wore religious jewelry, and her name brought to mind the mother of Jesus, but she sang about NOT being a virgin. She was a fashion icon, a middling actress, a serial dater, and provocateur. She reinvented herself more often than a Transformer, which back then was a just a silly cartoon out of Japan.

We were a generation raised on sarcasm, visual puns, and irony.

And one of Madonna's most ironic videos that we adored came out in 1985, when she rolled out a new song called “Material Girl.” In the video, instead of wearing the torn dresses and studded leather accessories that previously had been her costume, suddenly here she was gliding down a staircase from a soundstage straight outta Marilyn Monroe’s hit film Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.

A chorus line of handsome men in Armani tuxes fawningly danced around her as she sang of only dating men who could keep her in the lap of luxury as she is showered in cash, furs, and diamonds. The video was a story within a story, however, because in the reality off the set, she claims to be unimpressed by the expensive gifts of her suitors. The rich guy backing her video figures this out, and instead woos her with wildflowers and drives her off the set in a broken-down truck he buys off a handyman. And off they drive into the soundstage of true love.

The truth is that we DO just wanna have fun after working all day, especially with a sharp dressed man. We DO want exciting dates. And we DO live in a material world.

But the irony is that we also long for meaning, for purpose, and for real community and connection.

This is hardly a new issue. And talking about it without irony is fraught with tension.

We see this in our gospel reading today. Jesus continues, as he has for the last many weeks, toward Jerusalem and his passion and resurrection, and his disciples are struggling to accept the harshness of the fate that is awaiting him. The time Jesus and those disciples lived in was just as much a material world as now—only with lots fewer option. The vast majority of people in Roman-occupied Israel were abjectly poor. Then there were a few wealthy people. Nothing in between. On top of them were the Roman overlords, sucking the country dry of anything of real value.

Most of Jesus’s followers fell into that category of the working poor. Fishermen, handymen, day laborers, most of them. They knew what suffering was. So, the idea of a messiah who would suffer and die seemed hardly reassuring.

In the midst of Jesus repeatedly explaining how this would lead to the kingdom of God, today we have the sudden appearance of a rich man running up and kneeling at Jesus’s feet. The man runs up and kneels before Jesus. He then addresses Jesus with an honorific, one that gets brushed aside. Jesus is not swayed by flattery. What must I DO, the man asks, to inherit eternal life? How, in other words, can I add eternal life to my stack of possessions? Jesus responds by listing things NOT to do—did you notice that? Don’t cheat, don’t lie, don’t steal—he even throws “don’t defraud” in there even though that’s not actually from the 10 Commandments.

As Jesus so often does, he draws people into not just recalling the law but drawing out what it means to follow that law in practical terms.

Here we have a call story—but one that fails, at least at the time. The rich man wants “eternal life,” but uses language thinking it is something he can acquire or inherit. In other words, he wants the benefits of discipleship but doesn’t understand the transformative nature of it.

Notice also how many times Mark notes that Jesus looks directly at those in this story. Looks, and looks deeply, really seeing into who they are. But for the first time, in Mark’s gospel, we are told that Jesus not only LOOKS at the man but sees him and loves him.

LOVES him.

You only lack one thing, Jesus says. And that is to follow me. Jesus is telling that man, you are weighed down by your chasing after material wealth. It is standing in the way of committing to being a disciple. And the man, understandably, is shocked at Jesus’s suggestion, and goes away sadly.

This seems like a harsh, even frightening tale if we see ourselves as that wealthy man. Do we really have to give up EVERYTHING to follow Jesus?

But perhaps we can admit there is some truth in the idea that the word “possession” has two meanings. The first is something that we own. But there’s another meaning especially if we are familiar with scripture. Possession can also mean those who are controlled by some powerful force—that kind of possession. And even though we no longer believe in demon possession that kind of possession and that dislocated us from living a well-rounded life certainly is a huge issue even now. If we are totally honest with ourselves, we know that there are times when our possessions and the drive for more of them, possess us and prevents us from committing completely to loving relationships with each other, and with God.

But if ever there was a story for our time, this might be it. Think about the culture of the late 20th century that we grew up in. The drive for acquisition ruled—and yet also was often subtly critiqued, even in popular media. For every “Material Girl,” there was an also a reminder that we were also souls, or “Spirits Living in the Material World.” For every Ferris Bueller resentful that he didn’t get a car for his birthday, there was his friend Cameron Fry who’s emotionally controlling father loved a sports car more than his own son. For every Gordon Gecko tycoon crooning “greed is good,” there were workers fighting against totalitarianism in Poland by proclaiming their solidarity with one another.

Countless preachers in today’s America preach that Jesus is a wish-fulfilment genie: simply say you believe, and you shall be saved. No mention of following Jesus, of emulating Jesus, or sharing in the ongoing work of Jesus for the sake of the world—just say you believe, check off that box, and continue on with your life of chasing after worldly success, fortune, fame, whatever.

This creates a disconnect, making one’s own salvation the point of claiming to be Christian. This acquisitive mindset actually subverts the gospel good news and Jesus makes that clear here: to be able to follow Jesus, we have to let go of the things that stand in the way of our full commitment. That could be wealth, as in the case here. Or it could be anger, resentment, selfishness, or any of a host of other things.

In our gospel passage, the man’s possessions themselves are not the issue. His clinging to them over the call of Jesus to follow him IS the issue. And a little part of him knows it. Because for all the stuff he owns and that owns him, he still KNOWS there is something missing. That is why he approaches Jesus to begin with.

And so, we must ask ourselves: what things stand in the way of our own commitment to really following Jesus? How can we grow deeper into trusting God with all that we have and are? We ARE, after all, spirits living in a material world. And we can use those material things for good and still keep a roof over our heads. We can walk in love with Jesus and support the mission and ministry of Christ in a world that desperately needs him. We can do both.

One of the greatest things I learned in my teaching career is that not everyone is ready for the lesson you have prepared at the same time. Some kids were—but others might require more than one opportunity. And I think that’s another thing we can take away from this story. Nothing says that the man doesn’t come back later, and that he doesn’t come to a healthier balance between his obsessing with possessions and the loving call of Jesus to be able to follow him in action as well as in labels.

So perhaps we can use this uncomfortable story to reflect on all the times Jesus has called us to deeper relationship, but we have drawn back. What things possess us and hamper our deeper relationship with God and with each other? It could be cynicism. It could be fear. It could be our too-busy lives and never allowing ourselves a chance to sit in silence with ourselves, much less with God. It could be, like our friend Job, a string of unimaginable losses that make us wonder if God is punishing us, when we know God doesn’t act that way.

Jesus sees us and looks on us with eyes of love. He sees that we have filled our hands and our hearts with things that do not truly satisfy. May we hear his call to be brave enough to free ourselves from the fears, hesitations, grievances, and, yes, sometimes, stuff that doesn’t truly satisfy. May we release those things from their hold over us, so that we may be free to follow Jesus more fully, starting today.


Amen.


Preached at St. Martin's Episcopal Church in Ellisville, MO om October 12-13, 2024.

Readings for Proper 23B
Job 23:1-9, 16-17
Psalm 22:1-15
Hebrews 4:12-16
Mark 10:17-31


Citations:
1) Mark Knopfler and Sting, "Money for Nothing," from the Dire Straits album Brothers in Arms, 1985.

Image: Madonna and dancers from her video for "Material Girl."

Walking in Love With Creation: Sermon for the Feast of St. Francis of Assisi (transferred)

A long time ago, almost 800 years, there lived a man named Francis. He left behind family and wealth to become a repairer of churches, a deacon, and a friar who organized a new religious order based on humility and poverty in solidarity with the poor.

One day Francis was walking in the woods, traveling from one city to another as he recruited people to join his order. Above his head he heard hundreds of birds in the trees, singing and cheeping and doing all the bird-like things they could, with gusto. He heard in their joyfully noise a message of praise to God. The story goes that he called to the birds, and they flew down from the trees and gathered about his feet, and he began preaching to them:

“My little sisters, many are the bonds which unite us to God. And your duty is to praise Him everywhere and always, because He has let you free to fly wherever you will, and has given you a double and threefold covering and the beautiful plumage you wear.

“Praise Him likewise for the food He provides for you without your working for it, for the songs He has taught you, for your numbers that His blessing has multiplied, for your species which He preserved in the ark of olden times, and for the realm of the air He has reserved for you.

“God sustains you without your having to reap or sow. He gives you fountains and streams to drink from, mountains and hills in which to take refuge, and tall trees in which to build your nests. Although you do not know how to sew or spin, He gives to you and your little ones the clothing you need.

“How the Creator must love you to grant you such favors! So, my sister birds, do not be ungrateful, but continually praise God, who showers blessings upon you.”

It is said that the birds listened attentively, and that when he dismissed them to fly away they formed the shape of the cross in flight. He later joked that animals were more attentive congregations than many human ones he had encountered.

His love for creation as a testimony to the loving provision of God for all of us is something too many of us still have difficulty embracing. We live in a time when our planet is warning us about our lack of care for creation, whether through benign neglect or through outright exploitation of the Earth and her resources. As we look at the historic flooding caused by Hurricane Helene in places that had thought they were safe from climate change, and as we watch the formation of more, even stronger storms in the Gulf of Mexico and all around the world, some of us still view nature as an adversary to be conquered than a gift and revelation of God’s abiding love for us and for all God’s creatures.

This last week (on October 4, actually), it is our tradition to commemorate the Feast of St. Francis of Assisi, who is remembered as one who extolled the integrity, the oneness of creation, one who saw all of the universe, from the Sun and the Moon to even the tiniest creatures, as giving praise to the God and Creator of All. Our readings today reflect that spirit of the joyful honoring of creation that Francis taught.

Francis believed that creation revealed the glory and wisdom of God. There are stories of Francis moving earthworms aside so that he wouldn’t step on them, or of him saving a town that was being terrorized by a ravenous wolf by calling the wolf brother and treating it with such tenderness that it laid down at his feet and ravaged the town no more. No animals, from crickets and bees to falcons and pheasants, were too insignificant that Francis couldn’t see God’s generous love to us in the example of each creature.

In our gospel today, Jesus reminds us of the tender care he offers us, urging us to lay aside the striving of he world and lean into our trust in Jesus, whose burdens upon us are insignificant to the fears and anxieties of the world. In our passage from Psalm 121, we hear the voice of God reassuring us that God’s care and love for us never pauses, never ceases. And in our reading from Job, God lists wild animals not known in the ancient world for their wisdom and nonetheless asserts God's providential care. That generous, abundant provision is not just for domestic animals, as we humans sometimes emphasize, but on all creatures, especially wild beasts that roam free Jesus tenderly reminds us about the joy and beauty present in the most common things we tend to overlook in our distracted race through each day. In calling us to trust and awareness of all for which we could be grateful, Jesus calls us to live in each moment joyfully, bathed in God’s love.

Because it is so hard to fully live into each moment, we instead too often fall into the trap of feeling isolated from each other. That false sense of isolation leads to anxiety like Jesus was addressing, and that anxiety fools us into believing we are separate from one another. We see the effects of this belief right now in our city and throughout society. Anxiety and fear and isolation make us forget God’s promise of love and care.

Yet God’s promises to us are written into the very bonds of love that bind us to God, to each other, and to every living thing on the earth. That covenant that God established after the Great Flood was not just with Noah, but with both humans and all creation, plants and birds and all that lives, which, some scientists maintain, includes our very planet itself as a living organism, if one takes a broad enough view. The covenant story we heard from Genesis reminds us that creation is a full partner in our relationship with God, and gives God praise and glory.

Jesus reminds us that God’s love restores and renews us, so long as we center ourselves within each moment enough to feel that shared love. It is there in the joyful songs of birds whose welcome sings the morning into being. It is there in the lowliest, tiniest wildflower growing in a roadside ditch, turning its hopeful face toward the sun.

Instead of worry, Jesus calls us back to mindfulness, an important spiritual practice in many world religions. And not just any mindfulness, but the mindfulness of remembering how fully and thoroughly God loves us and through that love binds us together. Coming back to awareness of our unity with all living things is a wonderful place to start.

We see here in this anecdote that Jesus was a keen observer of the beauty of creation, and that he had spent time savoring the awareness of the birds singing and building their nests, and the sight of wildflowers—what some might call weeds—cloaking the fields and hills in beauty in a myriad of colors, all the hues of the rainbow mentioned in our first reading. Both the rainbow and the raiment of the most humble flower are signs to us of the promise God maintains with us and with all creation to love us and care for us always—not just in the distant past but right now and forever. Every living thing reminds us that God’s wondrous love bears the world into being and sustains it in every moment.

Luckily, we are also reminded of God’s love especially in the love and faithfulness of our companion animals, whose steadfast joy in us models to us the love and devotion we ourselves are made to exhibit toward our God.

At our pet blessing yesterday, those who gathered spoke of beloved canines and cats, fishes and rats—these creatures who show their devotion to us unswervingly. The very presence of all these living creatures in our lives remind us of God’s love. They remind us, also, that we are charged from the very first story in scripture with service to the earth and all the living things upon it and within it. Even the smallest creature has been placed on Earth to support the web of life on this planet, from humans to honeybees, and none is dispensable—not even wasps or mosquitos, who, I have to admit, are not my favorites. But we spoke of the ways that our pets’ devotion reminds us of the unswerving devotion and trust God’s abundant love elicits from us when we contemplate all the things for which we can be grateful in each day we live.

As we begin our stewardship campaign this year, I ask that you consider the way in which God has knit us into this huge community of creation, and consider the generous blessings of the natural world that make our lives possible. But I also ask that you remember how much the amazing community we have formed right here at St. Martin’s also finds ways to testify to God’s abundant love and grace each and every day, and ask each of you to recommit to supporting it

Our companion animals’ devotion exemplifies the devotion we owe God. Their love exemplifies the love we are called to bear for each other, no matter our differences.

St. Francis reminded us that all of creation participates in demonstrating God’s love—the same lesson Jesus taught us today in this gospel passage from Matthew. Each creature is a reminder of God’s blessing to and love for us. It is that holy and limitless love that binds all things together, just as mutual forces of gravity and attraction hold galaxies and stars in their courses as they dance through space. They walk alongside us as we seek to walk in love as Christ loved us, and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.


Amen.

Preached at St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville, MO on October 5-6, 2024.

 Readings:

Job 39:1-18

Psalm 121

Matthew 11:25-30

Image: "God's Fool," statue of St. Francis in Sts. Peter and Paul Cemetery, from Naperville, IL

Labels and Clubs: Sermon for Proper 21B

I bet we can all remember when we reached certain milestones in our lives. I remember when I was finally tall enough to ride Zingo, the wooden roller coaster at Bell’s Amusement Park in Tulsa. I remember when I was finally old enough to join the Bluebirds. I remember when I won a part in the high school play. I remember when I auditioned for and landed a spot in the Tulsa Youth Symphony. Each of those milestones provided me with a sense of belonging. Each enlarged my sense of identity: grown-up kid, not a baby. Member of a group of girls who shared my own interests in the outdoors and admission into a sisterhood that worked in service to others. A budding performer. All of these were labels I embraced joyfully.

Labels can also be limiting. I remember being told I could not use the computer in my high school classroom or play baseball with my neighborhood pals because I was a girl. I remember being told that I would never go to college because we were a working class family. I remember being told that I was just a dirty little Okie kid one time when I visited California.

Jesus draws our attention to labels in today’s gospel passage. First, John expects praise for shutting down someone who was doing the good work of healing people, but were doing it without the proper credentials, you might say. John claimed these do-gooders were not members of the "Jesus Club." Then Jesus addresses people within the community he is forming who act in ways that negate his call to guide and care for one another—who may be actually leading others astray, and doing that in Jesus’s name. Jesus’s name is in danger of becoming a label, not a way of living and doing good.

Funny how we still see these same questions about labels and identities today. In fact, arguments about identity are some of the most dangerous in our common life together. Labels and affiliations can be used as clubc against one another. But it shouldn't be that way.

The question of doing things in Jesus’s name is an interesting one to the original hearers of this gospel passage. Remember, the original followers of Jesus did NOT use the word “Christian.” When the movement finally got big enough to need an identifier, the term was simply “those who belonged to the Way,” according to Acts 9:2. Acts 11:26 states that the first time disciples of Jesus were called “Christians” was in Antioch in Syria, one of the most ancient churches outside the actual Holy Land.

The deeper meaning about the transition from the first term to the second is subtle, but telling. Notice that the phrase first used starts with the description of belonging—reminding us that Jesus formed a community of believers to help support each other, and to support each other specifically in ministering to the world around them. When the name began to collectively shift to “Christians,” the implication is that Jesus’s followers are now specifically bearing his Name and acting in his name. This placed a heavy responsibility upon them to bear that name with humility and with grace, keeping in mind that a life lives publicly as a Christian, then and now, is in itself a profound testimony about Jesus and his Good News.

The question, therefore, in the first section of the gospel is whether the kind of example Christians are called to set as followers and embodiers of Jesus’s teaching can be found outside the Christian community. Have we ever known people who, while not professing the name of Jesus, or even while professing no faith at all, have nonetheless embodied the kind of lovingkindness and humility that Jesus calls his followers to model? Of course. Think of it: without Mahatma Gandhi, there might have been no Martin Luther King, Jr., whose study of Gandhi’s nonviolent resistance to British colonial rule in India informed his own passionate commitment to non-violent protest, what king called the use of “soul force.” It is here that we should note that Gandhi’s first name was not “Mahatma” but Mohandas. Mahatma is an honorific which means “great-souled.”

In our first reading, Queen Esther reveals that she is a Jew-- a label that could have gotten her killed under the scheme of her husband's advisor, Haman. She claims that label and is wmpowered by it.

Reflecting on our gospel story, the disciples are worried about someone doing God's work without having the official label of "follower of Jesus." And yet, haven't many of us known about the opposite, who do evil and hide it under the name of Christ?

I imagine we all have known people who do great harm to Christianity by loudly professing to be Christian yet whose lives reveal a shocking lack of compassion, empathy, loving-kindness and reconciliation. Some of the meanest people I have known in my life, angry, bitter, judgmental, grievance-filled prunes, have professed to be good, upstanding Christian people—and loudly proclaimed it too, all the while treating others, especially vulnerable people, with contempt and carelessness.

There’s a church sign I once saw on a marquee: “I’d rather be with a kind atheist than a hateful Christian.” That hurts that it can be true. Bbutwe'cve all known people like that, haven't we?

I wonder: is it the label that is so important, or is it the action? 

Is it truly even possible to be a Christian and be hateful? 

Can someone call themselves “Christian” if they refuse the inner transformation that accompanies truly giving one’s life over to the love of God as we experience it in the life and example of Jesus, who is God in human flesh? Why would God bother to take on a human life at all if it was not to show us how to live a God-centered life?

For much of the last many millennia, at least in the West since the removal of prohibitions on Christianity by the Emperor Constantine, the title “Christian” has been associated with power and influence. Funny how a once-ragtag group of some of the least influential people in their own backwater region of the Roman Empire suddenly shifted to being powerful and connected.

Even here in America, which was founded during the Enlightenment, and which, thanks to Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, officially proclaimed the separation of church and state as a governing principle, persons seeking influence and elected office usually did not do well if they proclaimed themselves to not be Christians. Heck, it took this country until 1960 to elect a Roman Catholic to the presidency, and friends, that WAS an actual point of contention. During the Cold war, since refusal to believe in God was associated with communism, proclaiming oneself a Christian became an unspoken prerequisite to higher office. Churches were places not so much where people were formed as disciples but as places where people were seen, and where they networked and conducted business deals—kind of what the golf course is now for much of corporate America.

In too much of the world, attaching the label of “Christian” to someone or something went from being less about taking on a discipline of service and self-denial, and more about opening up the doors of the corridors of power. And so it has been and so it has remained—until very recently. Christianity, too often, has become a club—and remember that the second meaning of the word club is “a tool to beat someone with.”

I was recently told by a person online that if I didn’t believe that each and every word in the Bible should be interpreted as he did, that “I could not be a Christian.” He was pretty mean about it too. I gently reminded him that, fortunately for both of us, that wasn’t his decision to make. Tra- la- la! You are NOT the decider!

Labels DO matter—and undoubtedly they matter too much. Labels are, after all, a way of stereotyping—and that becomes a way to not see the human being bearing that label. We are now in the midst of one of the most bitter partisan contests in our lifetimes. And we are at a dangerous point in our country where labels have gotten to where they matter more than the belief systems they are supposed to represent. We look for a single letter after a candidate’s name, we talk about whether they are “red” or “blue,” and then we get blinded to what those letter and colors actually stand for. Worse, too many of us have now doubled down so that anyone on the other side is not just someone with whom we disagree, but someone who is immediately assumed to be “the enemy.”

And so what is Jesus saying to us right now? Maybe it’s to look beyond the labels that divide us. Look, there it is: right there: “Whoever is not against us is for us.”

Wow—what would it be like if we took that line right there to heart?

Jesus reinforces this viewpoint in the last sentence we heard today as well: Be at peace with one another.” Not a fake peace, where we refuse to discuss the things that matter. Not the false peace that avoids engaging with those different from us and closes us off from each other. But a real peace, in which we don’t worry about labels and dividing us one from another, but coming together in good will and open-heartedness, putting down our clubs, and instead working together for the common good. Looking for the way we can build each other up rather than oppress and cast out others.

Especially in the days and weeks and months ahead, may we all try to let our lives testify to the goodness of God, and welcome anyone who truly beings about healing and reconciliation, no matter what labels they do it under. Let’s be for each other, rather than against each other. And even though there are plenty of other things to do each Sunday, let’s recommit, as this new program year begins, to show up for each other, here and throughout the week, and for our own deepening of our faith in Jesus. Putting aside all that we use to divide us or to let ourselves off the hook for doing the work, as James has been reminding us this last month.

No labels. No clubs. Just community.


Amen.

Preached at St. Martin's Episcopal Church on September 28-29, 2024.

Readings:

Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; 9:20-22
Psalm 124 
James 5:13-20
Mark 9:38-50