Prayer 2774: For strength in the face of malice

Holy, Eternal One,
we lift our hearts before You in prayer,
numbering your manifold mercies
and seeking your light for our steps
and strength for this day's journey.

Remove the veil we have placed
over the lamp of your wisdom,
that we may turn our eyes toward your path, O God,
and renounce our hard-heartedness and fear.
May we make no bargain
with injustice for the sake of privilege,
with corruption for the sake of profit.
May we find our strength in compassion,
and seek to live blamelessly
walking humbly and lifting up each other
before the God of Mercy.

Unite us in integrity and holiness, Lord Christ,
and lead us by the Spirit of Truth
into a deeper faithfulness and joy.
Grant the balm of your blessing, O Savior
to all those whose needs we remember before You.

Amen.

Prayer 2773: The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Almighty God,
your love sustains us in every moment,
and we rest within the embrace of your mercy:
hear our prayer.

Give us ears alert to your call to us,
as you called to Moses as he did his daily work.
May we hear you call us by name,
and turn to hear your voice
taking your instruction to heart
that we may be a blessing in the world
and join ourselves
to upholding your work of reclamation
in your Name.

Set our hearts aflame
to burn with joy by your Word and Spirit,
O God of Grace and Mercy.
Hear our prayers and petitions and longings
as we lift them before You,
and grant your blessing to all who seek You,
especially those we now name.

Amen.

Prayer 2772: For perseverance and gratitude

Most Merciful God,
who is making the heavens and the earth,
we center our hearts within your loving-kindness,
and rise to give you thanks at the dawning of the day.

In times of storm and tempest,
when we are tossed about,
let us always see you walking alongside us, Beloved Savior,
our steadfast companion in all our ways.

Your love, Blessed Jesus, sets our feet upon solid ground;
you strengthen us to walk, through faith, alongside you.
You are our solid rock, O Holy One:
let us serve you in joyful anticipation and hope,
hearing your loving call above the howling of the wind,
the light of your countenance guiding us in the darkness,
bidding us to love, not fear.

Spirit of the Living God,
lead us to wisdom and truth,
that we may be a blessing to others today.
Guide your people in integrity, compassion, and holiness,
and grant your peace to those we now name.

Amen.

Prayer 2771- Inspired by Psalm 31

 (inspired by Psalm 31)

In You, O God, do we take refuge:
our trust is in You as we cry out in distress.
Even when the darkness surrounds us,
when walls close in upon us,
You are our mighty fortress.
Preserve us within the storms of life,
for though the tempest rages about us,
You are our God.
Mighty winds may blow and howl,
but You,
O God,
are our rock of refuge
and stronghold to keep us safe.
For You take heed of our souls' distress
and will never give us up
to the power of darkness and despair.
We rest in the hands of the Almighty:
we rejoice in your mercy and lovingkindness.
Watch over your children, we pray,
and embrace those who rest within You.

Amen.

The Velvet Darkness: Speaking to the Soul, August 27, 2020

Exodus 3:1-15

In our diocese, when we suddenly got the word in the week before Holy Week that we had to shut down our worship spaces, even from broadcasting from them before empty pews, it set up a mad scramble. My husband generously went up to our nave with me and helped me to pre-record the stripping of the altar so that we could use it in our Maundy Thursday service. Slowly, item by item, all the furnishings and paraments, down the last candlestick and embroidered linen altar coverings were removed and stored away. At the end, the tabernacle light was extinguished, and darkness, deep and rich settled over us with finality as we finished recording.

I thought about the contrast between that darkness and the flare of fire when I contemplated this Sunday’s reading from Exodus, which includes the famous call narrative of Moses and the Burning Bush. It also drew me into some points I read by the rev. Dr. Wil Gafney about the symbolism of the pairing of darkness and light, and the way that symbolism can be misused and feed into negative attitudes toward race. The impulse here in the West is to associate light with good and darkness with evil.

And yet, some of the holiest experiences I have had have occurred when I have prayed beneath the stars, when darkness has pulled back the azure veil and revealed the delights and the filigrees of constellations that go unseen in daytime, swirling overhead and testifying to the wonders of the handiwork of God. That darkness is a friend, causing the aperture of the pupils of the eyes to open widest in order to gather in even the faintest light. Especially in summer, that darkness lays soft and soothing against the skin, like silk or velvet.

The darkness is where creation takes place. The darkness is ancient. The darkness was the companion of God long before the universe came to be. And it is from the creative, velvet darkness that God’s call to Moses, and many of us, actually originates.

The darkness is where divine revelation seizes hold of Moses with the fiercest of grips, and the flare of that burning thorn bush becomes even more arresting. Although there have been several names used for God, up to this point in the Torah, the answer Moses receives is “Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh” which is translated as “I am who I am” as well as “I will be who I will be”—in other words, God exists outside the realm of time and human experience, and past, present, and future are all the same to God.

The rolling pronouncement of the Holy Name of God – we hear it in our translation from the NRSV as “I Am Who I Am”--comes from the intersection of darkness and fire—and warns Moses to remove his sandals, since the ground on which he stands is holy. It was only during that dramatic collaboration between light and dark that Moses is called into a new life. Moses is called out of the darkness of his shepherd life to lead a new flock, and take on a new identity. We see a movement from “I Am” to “You will be.” Moses will be the prophet of I Am.

How can you use the creative velvet darkness this week to help call you deeper into your relationship with God?

This was first published at Episcopal Cafe's Speaking to the Soul on August 27, 2020.

Prayer 2770: Prayer in the Midst of Storm

Let us raise our hearts to our Creator,
who is making the heavens and the Earth.
Let us sing praise to our Savior,
whose mercy endures forever,
and sustains the weary with unfailing compassion.

Your creating energy, O God, is awesome in its power:
we worship You and give you glory!
God is our refuge and our shelter,
our steadfast companion in times of trouble or danger.

We turn to you in trust, Holy One,
for You abide with us even in the midst of the storm.
Place your hand of protection
over all who are in danger,
over all who seek the lost or injured,
we humbly pray.
Guide the hands and the hearts
of doctors, nurses, and first responders,
of clergy and chaplains,
as they seek to comfort and heal the injured and the traumatized.

Blessed Jesus, you know our cares and concerns:
gather under your sheltering wing
all those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer, day 2769: As the Storm Approaches

Most Merciful God,
may our prayers rise on the scent of jasmine
as we praise and bless your love in our lives.
The curtain of the night parts
and you spread a new day before us:
Lord, hear our prayer. 

In beholding afresh the wonders of creation,
let us see with new eyes and hearts, O Christ.
In taking up the work you have given us,
let us be guided to do your will, O Christ.
In turning from sin and self-centeredness,
let us atone for our wrongs, and reconcile, O Christ. 

When tumults rage and threaten to swamp us,
let us remember that you do not bring them, O God:
Your hand holds us fast,
and commands the waves to cease-
may we never forget You are with us within the storm. 

Merciful One, make your face shine upon us this day,
and upon those whom we now name.

Amen.

Prayer, day 2768: For God's protection

Loving God,
spread the tent of your protection 

over us today. Guide us with your loving, almighty hand
that we may walk in your paths with integrity.

We fervently thank you for our abundant blessings:
help us to spend our time numbering them
rather than our worries.
Bring us within your enclosure,
that we may abide there forever,
rejoicing that we are your own.

Embrace us, Loving One,
despite our manifold faults,
for we seek to be worthy of You.
Let our lives sing out
a testimony of your love and faithfulness,
your compassion and your forgiveness.
Help us to speak in love, never in anger;
help us to act with charity and forthrightness
to all we meet today.

Hear our prayers
as we remember these, your beloved children,
in their petitions and thanksgivings.


Amen.

Prayer, day 2767: For Strength and Resilience

With gratitude we embrace this day,
Most Merciful Creator,
and together we offer You our praise and thanksgiving.

Envelop us in your love and care, Lord Jesus,
and awaken our hearts to seek your ways.
Blessed Savior,
give us the will to follow you and serve you,
for you laid down the path of righteousness and justice
to teach us to live in contentment, joy, and peace.
Make us seekers of wisdom,
protectors of the vulnerable,
and true disciples of your Word, O God.

Strengthen the hearts of all
who are in danger, turmoil, sorrow, or pain,
and give them rest within your embrace,
O Shepherd of Our Souls.
Renewed by your everlasting love and mercy,
we lift our hopes and prayers to You,
Almighty God,
our Rock and our Redeemer.
Pour out your blessing over all who seek You,

and grant your peace to those we now name.

Amen. 

Prayer 2766: The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost

Amen.

Almighty God,
the weight of your hand comforts us:
hear our prayer.
Help us to proclaim who you are, Lord Christ
in all we do and say
even when we think no one is looking.
Grant the blessing of your peace
to all in anxiety from the day that has passed,
and open our hearts to your wisdom
that we may choose to walk in your ways
as day draws to a close.
Bend near, O Blessed Savior,
and give your angels charge over those
whose needs we place before You.

Living Out The Question: Sermon for Proper 16A

It is no accident that Matthew today has Jesus and his disciples entering Caesaria Philippi. This was a city that the family of Herod took and named after the emperor (Caesaria) and after themselves (Philippi, after Philip). Caesaria Philippi, not to be confused with Caesaria Maritima, the seat of Pontius Pilate. This Caesaria is no Jewish town, though--it was filled with Pagan temples and associated with the Greek god Pan. Physically, therefore, the disciples in Jesus are moving into gentile territory dedicated to empire, one that recalls the collusion between Rome and her client puppet rulers who carried out her bidding in the name of the Roman Empire. The setting is going to be very important over the next two weeks especially in our revised common lectionary as Jesus asked the disciples who he is and then tries to make them understand what that means.

Then we have this week’s gospel. Jesus turns to the disciples and asks them who they think he is. In answer to Jesus’s question, there are a couple of suggestions offered by his followers: John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah, or some other prophet from olden days. After these many possibilities, Peter, boldly gives the answer: Jesus is the Messiah! And standing there in a gentile town, that pronouncement is revolutionary, indeed.

One of the titles of the Caesars while they ruled was “son of god”-- and it is on this soil that Peter declares Jesus to be “the Messiah, the son of the living God.” In doing so the conflict becomes stark and subversive. Jesus is first declared as Messiah by his disciples in a region that is devoted through the obedience to a rival claimant to divinity and power. In naming Jesus Messiah, the disciples probably framed expectations about what Jesus would then do in political and possibly even military terms.

Yet Jesus's behavior as the son of God will not be one of armed conflict or rebellion , but will nonetheless challenge the rule of any political empire through his exhortations to build up a Kingdom not of this earth, but a Kingdom of heaven in which God's values are elevated over worldly, mundane ones. And as we wonder about who Jesus is and what that means in our own lives, we are reminded that the values of Christ to which we are called are NOT the values of the empire of self in which we still live.

Jesus was already aware that people were saying he was the Messiah. But it only after Peter’s declaration that he uses the term about himself in Matthew’s gospel. Peter can state WHO Jesus is, but then immediately gets wrong what exactly that means. And in order for that to become more clear, stay tuned for NEXT week’s gospel reading, when Peter will go from hero to zero within five seconds. Being able to rattle off the right answer to the question Jesus puts before us can actually lead us into thinking that our work is done once we HAVE the answer. It can also lead us to believe that we’ve got Jesus all figured out—that we have, in education-speak, achieved mastery over this question.

Oooh, is that a mistake! That can lead us to attempt to domesticate Jesus, to try to place him in a box limited by our own understanding. And when we do that to the Son of God, we do that to God the Father and God the Holy Spirit as well, and the next thing you know, you’ve got head – bobbing hipster televangelists urging us just to recite a magic formula inviting Jesus as a personal savior to keep us out of hell. But meanwhile, Jesus, don’t disturb our lives too much, okay?

Jesus can NOT be tamed. I am reminded of that scene in C. S. Lewis’s The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe in which the children, having travelled through the wardrobe to the land of Narnia, try to learn more about the great hero of the land and Christ-figure, Aslan the Lion,. Aslan is the rightful ruler of Narnia before the wicked White Witch has taken over and thrown the land into a perpetual winter. Mr. Beaver takes the children in and shelters them, and begins answering their questions about who Aslan is. The scene runs like this:

Mr. Beaver said, “Aslan is a lion-- the Lion, the great Lion. “

“Ooh,” said Susan. “I'd thought he was a man. Is he --quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver… “Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the king, I tell you… He’s wild, you know. Not like a tame lion.”

And yet we keep trying to tame Jesus and fit him into boxes so that too often he can align with our own prejudices and preferences. And in asking all of us that question again today, there are two things I think we can remember.

First, regardless of all the creeds we repeat, which sometimes roll over the surfaces of our conscious minds like a river over a rock, never being absorbed or taken in but molding us only slowly over time, it is up to us to engage deeply with the question of who Jesus is and how we understand what that means in our lives. For lots of folks, the knee-jerk response is inwardly focused—he’s the Savior who will save our souls from eternal torment.

The second thing to remember is that discipleship is not inwardly-focused. It is outwardly focused. But Jesus gathers a community around him not so that they can always stay together but so they can go out into the world proclaiming the good news—and that good news is about release for the captives, justice for the oppressed, and bread for the hungry. And remember Jesus puts us, as his disciples in charge of the making sure everyone is fed part as we have discussed previously, because Jesus trusts us that much with the power of our own ministry in his name. That’s one reason why we need to engage deeply and personally with who Jesus is as Messiah and what that means in our lives.

Jesus’s question is NOT just a question to which we flip off an answer, as you will see in NEXT week’s gospel reading. Just being able to say the right words is not enough. Rather, Jesus’s question calls into LIVING into the answer—in showing with oiur words and our deeds why Jesus as Messiah and Son of God matters right here and right now. How Jesus being Messiah and Son of God transforms our expectations about what our lives mean to each other, transforms those relationship from transactional --from looking at what we can “get” from the persons we encounter, to transformative—to engaging with Jesus’s identity as the BEGINNING of the journey of faith, not the end.

As our reading from Romans reminds us, I am convinced that Jesus’s question is a question for each and every one of us. Right now. Who do we say Jesus is? Not just with our words, or our repetition of creeds, but as self-avowed Christians, in our everyday lives? And does our answer align with Jesus’s own testimony as recorded in scripture and in tradition? Actions, as they say, speak louder than words.

Even while we acknowledge that we certainly are not perfect, and everybody has bad days, nonetheless, overall, do we ourselves strive to embody the healing, reconciling, forgiving, compassionate, resilient heart of Jesus? Even as we proclaim our allegiance with Christianity, do we forget that the greater allegiance is to Jesus? You know, the Jesus who showed us that there is always hope. The Jesus that called on us more than anything to love our neighbor rather than look down on them and condemn them?

So today, there are two things I want to ask you to do. First, I ask you to come up with a sentence or two about who Jesus is to you.  And since I would never ask you to do what I would not do myself, let me take that challenge upon myself for just a moment. (1) 

Earlier this week I took a list of all the names for Jesus found in scripture and created a word cloud for the cover of our bulletin. Yet as I looked over that list, I realized there were some words I would use that were not there, or not there enough: Friend. Comforter. Exhorter. Builder. Companion. Teacher. Savior. Healer. Guide. Exemplar. Model. Fully Human and Fully God. One Who Has Known All My Pains and Sorrows.

To confess Jesus as Messiah and Lord means to me that Jesus shows that living life according to love and healing is our highest calling even when it puts our comfort at risk, and forces us not to turn away but to share in the work of justice for the sake of others as well as of myself. It means looking with eyes of love and compassion on the brokenness in the world and the brokenness of people, remembering the grace that has seen us through our own difficulties and demons and extending that grace to those who bear invisible burdens we cannot see.

And maybe that doesn’t sound like such good news to some, at least at first. But, go deeper into your experience, and you can see that a life lives only for one’s self is really no life at all. Jesus promises us life, and life abundant at that, through the community and fellowship we are drawn to with God, and with each other.

The reminder that God has revealed to Peter what Peter himself could never have sussed out on his own is a bright promise for all of us, especially as the COVID-19 pandemic stretches on and as we all weary of being apart from each other. To put it succinctly, even while our worship remains separated by space, as my friends in the United Church of Christ say, “God is still speaking.” God’s revelation is ongoing in our time right now.

God is right alongside us, sustaining us in faith, urging us to use our God-given intelligence and wisdom to not let down our guard—and certainly not to take risks and chances with each others’ lives on the gamble that God will protect us, as we discussed last week. The knowledge of who Jesus is is the beginning of our journey of faith, NOT the end. Our knowledge of who Jesus is expands our notions of worship to go from what we do IN church on Sunday to what we show the world by our words and our deeds and our attitudes throughout the week.

As our reading from Paul reminds us, though, through our faith in Christ, we are called to transform our thinking and our way of life, so that what is pleasing to God is more important to us than the values of this world, to go from WORSHIP as a moment to WORSHIP as the sum meaning of our lives. To worship of God as not being just a rite, but to being a way of knowing and living.

When we worship, we unite the bodily and the spiritual. We spend precious time of our lives within the liturgy, and the liturgy can only exist with the work of the people. And the work of the people BEGINS here, but must go out into the world. The way we live is our most important act of worship—beyond all the things we do together here in normal times. And I don’t know about you, but I take great comfort from that, in this continuing time of COVID that keeps us physically separated. We still have Jesus. We still have each other. We still are called to EMBODY our faith as Jesus did, led by his example.

Our bodies and the way we use them and where we place them are a living witness to God and our understanding of God. We offer our entire self to God—all of us—as a “living sacrifice,” and that in itself is indeed counter to the norms and standards of the world. This is not a sacrifice of dead animals, as was common during biblical times. This is a “living” sacrifice, and of course sacrifice means both “to make holy” and “to give something up.” From the time we give ourselves to God, our lives change by this very real commitment. But what do we give up? Only that which would not be “good and acceptable and perfect.” As the body of Christ, our community is described by Paul as an alternative to the world, not conforming to it.

Beyond the shelter of the doors of the church, worship as daily living is a generous, mindful sacrifice in the very best sense of that word. It's a worthy response to the grace of a God who offers us all that we are in the first place. Our lives, from our impulses to our actions, become a fully-realized testimony to the ethic of compassion and healing which lies at the heart of Jesus’s message. And Jesus’s message starts with that insistent question: WHO do YOU say that I am?

I call upon you to actually spend some time this week thinking about that answer and what it means to your life. And then, I ask you to spend the coming week seeing how that confession shapes your life in the next few days.

Amen.

Preached at the 10:30 online service at St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville, on August 23, 2020.

Readings:

Exodus 1:8-2:10
Psalm 124
Romans 12:1-8
Matthew 16:13-20

Citations:

1) My thanks to David Lose for suggesting this train of thought here.

Prayer 2765: Praise Song for a Late Summer Morning

Almighty God,
we raise our hearts to You
in hope and trust.

Blessings upon this day,
the filigree of sun and shadow
fashioned at the hands of God,
maker of heaven and earth and all stars!
From the sacred, holy darkness
you have watched over us as we slumbered:
You call us to wakefulness
and engagement with the needs of the world.

Bread of Life,
who came down from heaven
to nourish us, body and soul,
create in us wide-open hearts,
eager to be filled with light and love.
Your way, O Savior,
is the way of hopefulness,
and you call us to love unfeignedly,
seeing your thumbprint and mark
in each and every soul.

Spirit of God,
kindle your flame within us,
and extend the awning of your mercy
over all whose needs we raise before you.

Amen.

Prayer, day 2764: For Hope in a Better Society

Holy One,

let our prayers rise to you
on the wings of hope,
and may we listen to your voice
as we seek your wisdom.

Blessed Savior,
draw us into an attitude of humble service
joyfully seeking the good of others
as we minister in your Name.
May we reflect your tender love
and embody your grace and mercy, Almighty God.

Make us helpers and healers, O Creator,
walking gently upon this good earth
as companions and kindred with all creation,
remembering you have hallowed
all you have made.

Spirit of the Living God,
lift us up by your blessing,
and grant your benediction and peace
to all whose needs we lift to You.


Amen.

Embodied Worship: Speaking to the Soul, August 20, 2020

“I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.”—Romans 12:1-2


Chapter 12 of Paul’s letter to the Romans begins with a series of exhortations based upon the points Paul has made in chapters 1-11.

Paul begins by urging us to present our bodies as a sacrifice—a living sacrifice, an offering not made in a single moment to be burned upon an altar, but an ongoing offering of all that we are from that moment forward, an offering of our time and potential and talent to be put to the use of the kingdom of God for the life of the world.

Through our faith in Christ, we are called to transform our thinking and our way of life, so that what is pleasing to God is more important to us than the values of this world. Too often, we think of worship as a set-apart few moments in our busy lives, a respite from our ongoing engagement with the world. That is exactly what Paul calls us to reconsider. Instead, by unifying our whole selves with Christ, in aligning ourselves with his example of how to live a fully human, fully devoted life, our entire life becomes worship and honor and praise to God.

Our bodies and the way we use them and where we place them are a living witness to God and our understanding of God. We offer our entire self to God—all of us—as a “living sacrifice,” and that in itself is indeed counter to the norms and standards of the world. This is not a sacrifice of dead animals, as was common during biblical times. This is a “living” sacrifice, and of course sacrifice means both “to make holy” and “to give something up.” From the time we give ourselves to God, our lives change by this very real commitment. But what do we give up? Only that which would not be “good and acceptable and perfect (v.2).” As the body of Christ, our community is described by Paul as an alternative to the world, not conforming to it.

It was not too long into this pandemic that some Christians here in the US began to complain about the closing of in-person services at their churches, and some went so far as to claim that government mandates to limit gatherings of people infringed upon their freedom to worship. Yet if we take seriously what Paul is saying here, we are assured that worship is not just bound up in rites, no matter how beautiful; or communal singing of praise songs, no matter how uplifting; or even in sermons, no matter how illuminating. Of course worship online can feel isolating, but it also can be a powerful tool of evangelism. So long as people of faith set their hearts and minds on living a life dedicated to following the Way of Jesus in the mundane moments of our lives, true worship can never be halted.

When we worship, we unite the bodily and the spiritual planes of our existence. As members of faith communities, we devote precious time from our lives within the liturgy, and even in this time of online worship we nonetheless form communities online with the insistence that the liturgy can only exist with the work of the people. That is literally what the word “liturgy” means- the work of the people. It’s not a show or a performance, but a group endeavor and offering. This is why the rubrics of the Book of Common Prayer insist on the active participation of the laity in the worship service- as readers, as lay Eucharistic ministers, as leaders of the prayers, as acolytes, and so on—and they are to be represented at the altar, along with deacons and of course priests and bishops. But the goal of worship is not to check off a box within the week’s activities. The goal of worship is to transform the way we live the rest of the week so that, in the words of a hymn of my childhood, “they will know we are Christians by our love.”

Beyond the shelter of the doors of the church, worship as daily living is a generous, mindful sacrifice, a worthy response to the grace of a God who offers us all that we are in the first place. Our lives, from our impulses to our actions, become a fully-realized testimony to the ethic of compassion and healing which lies at the heart of Jesus’s message. This offering of embodied worship is more precious and costly, as that way of being is lived out as a quiet yet forceful testimony before the sight and judgment of those unfamiliar with the beauty and value of living a life dedicated to something greater than themselves.

How can you live more deeply into the embodied worship to which Christ calls you today?

This was first published at Episcopal Cafe's Speaking to the Soul for August 20, 2020, as well as as the Rector's Reflection in the Beacon for the week of August 16-23, 2020.

Prayer, day 2763

Let us praise the Lord our God,
who has set the seal of salvation upon us 

and blessed us this day. 

We thank You for the glory of the rising sun, 

and for the gift of your unfailing love. 

Almighty One, have mercy upon us, 

and lead us into paths of righteousness and compassion 

for all beings. 

Stretch out your hand 

over the bowed heads of the faithful, 

and guide us to wisdom and peace. 

Give us compassionate hearts 

and willing hands 

to do your work in the world. 

Comfort those who cry out to You, O Jehovah, 

and draw us to your breast like little children. 

We lift up the prayers of those 

whose hope is in You, O Loving One, 

for we know that You are always near.

Amen.

Prayer, day 2762

 

Most Merciful God,

who is creating the heavens and earth,
I sing a song of praise and gratitude
for all the wonders of your hand.

For the electric flash of a bluebird
racing from redbud to hackberry,
the swoop of the martin over a pond at dusk,
and the mockingbird standing sentinel on the rooftop,
Creating God, I give You praise.

For the rasp of cicada,
the swooping trill of the wood thrush,
and the hammering percussion of the woodpecker,
Creating God, I give You praise.

For the tumble of black swallowtails on summer phlox,
the sparkle of dragonfly wings,
and the industry of the bee on Queen Anne's lace,
Creating God, I give You praise.

For the spiced scent of fallen leaves
subsiding into earth,
and the greening tang of hedge-apple,
Creating God, I give You praise.

For the sinuous branches of this bur oak,
and the curling bark of the river birch,
Creating God, I give You praise.

Holy One, Ground and Source of All Being,
You adorn the Earth with beauty
and sustain us by your abundant grace and tender love.
Bear us within your embrace this day,
that we remember our kinship within creation,
and dependence upon this good Earth,
that even now is bearing us through space.

Plant your peace and compassion within our hearts,
O Lord of Life,
and make your face to shine upon all for whom we pray

Prayer, day 2761

 

Most Merciful God,

who gathers us within the embrace of your loving-kindness,
and makes all things in heaven and on earth,
we offer your our hearts and hands:
anoint them to your use today, we pray.
May we hear the call of Christ to discipleship,
and be renewed and refreshed in faithfulness and service,
bearing with each other in gentleness and love,
for the life of the world.
In all we do,
may we be the healing hands and heart of Jesus,
that our lives may be a testimony of joy.
Give your angels charge over all who cry out to You, O God,
and rest your hand of blessing
upon those whom we remember before You.

Amen.

Prayer, day 2960

Eternal, Almighty, Merciful God,

we lift our hands to you in gratitude
and lay our hearts before You.

Turn to us and forgive us our sins,
O God of Grace,
and help us put away our willful ways,
our acquiescence to callousness,
our failure to walk in each other's shoes.
Lord, give us open hearts:
when strangers approach us for help,
let us see that You are coming to us, Lord Christ,
and respond in love and compassion.
Renew a right spirit within us,
that we may follow in the Way of Jesus
carrying a banner of healing and reconciliation.

Loving One,
send out your Spirit to bless and inspire us,
and guide us in our journey to your truth.
Place all who call upon You
within the broad expanse of your mercy, O Lord,
and bend tenderly over those we now name.

Amen.

Astounding Grace: Sermon for Proper 15A

I don’t know about you, but I love the underdog. Whenever I see a competition, and I don’t have a particular dog in the hunt, I usually end up rooting for the side that is most disdained or overlooked. This probably is partially due to the fact that I grew up as a sports-loving girl, which in a time when Title IX was just getting started, made me already an underdog. I was good enough at sports that the boys actually asked me to come out and play. Football, baseball, soccer—all through elementary school I was out on the playground with a few other sporty girls and the guys, even in the summer time.

Then I got to junior high, and things got weird, and many guys didn’t want to compete with girls and risk “losing” to girls, and suddenly they got to grow another foot tall while we girls didn’t. And so suddenly, as a girl, for a while there, I and my female sporty friends became the underdog, the overlooked, when it came to sports.

And then, I grew up in a state which had no professional sports, which is how—and I can confess this to you because there is no one actually IN the nave right now to throw things at me-- I grew up to be a Cubs fan.

Yes. Because when cable TV came to Tulsa, the Cubs games were always broadcast on WGN. And during the time I was a Cubs fan, although the Cubs had many talented players, like Greg Maddux, Leon “Bull” Durham, Ron “the Penguin” Cey, and my favorite, Ryne Sandberg, they never had much success. They were supposedly under a curse having something to do with a goat, we were told. Whatever. They were always the underdogs. The discounted. The excluded.

Todays’ reading all feature discussions about underdogs, about those who are excluded, about the tensions between having “insider” status and having “outsider” status. In our story from Genesis, we once again skip a whole lot of the good stuff in the story about Joseph, and jump to the end. Now Joseph has gone from being slave to being the master of Egypt, and his brothers have had to come to Egypt during a famine to try to buy bread for the large family of Jacob to survive. They do not recognize Joseph, who now goes by an Egyptian name, dresses like an Egyptian, walks like an Egyptian, has an Egyptian wife and half-Egyptian children, and is second only to Pharaoh in power. And maybe because he has come out on top, Joseph forgives his brothers for considering murdering him, and then selling him into slavery.

But this story is placed here for the sake of our gospel reading to remind us of an important point about the identity of the people of Israel, as Biblical scholar Wil Gafney points out. “Joseph's complicated family history teaches us that Israelite identity was a cultural and religious one and not an ethnic or even national one in his time -- and for some time to come. In Joseph's story the Israelites and Egyptians are not pitted against one another. There will be enough food for all because of his stewardship.” But the This point will be important later.

As we have been reminded especially at the start of the COVID pandemic, when suddenly all kinds of necessities disappeared from our store shelves even in the American Land of Plenty, in the face of scarcity, the temptation is always to cut others out, to hoard and store up for ourselves. And we certainly see that fear leading some in our society to try to lock others out, especially those in need. Even before COVID, we saw that fear play itself out on our borders, and it continues even though we are distracted by a global pandemic.

It’s human nature to look for some markers so that we can draw bright, circular lines around groups of people. The people on the inside of that line? That’s “us.” And those on the outside of that line? That’s “them.” They’re the “others.” The outsiders, the unworthy.

And in times of stress, or crisis, or scarcity, those we label as “other” risk being seen not just as different but as the enemy, as competition for scarce resource whose needs must be denies so that then insiders can, if not prosper, then at least have “enough.”

Note I said it was human nature. But the question is: is this tendency to exclude a part of God’s plan and vision for God’s kingdom, for the creation of God’s family here on earth than Matthew’s gospel calls “the kingdom of heaven?”

That’s where the story of our Canaanite woman in our gospel today comes in. Hers is the third scene in chapter 15 of Matthew’s gospel. We missed scene one, where Pharisees come and criticize Jesus and his disciples for not observing "traditions of the elders" regarding washing hands before eating and so on. Jesus argues back that violating traditions is not nearly as important as violating commandments, especially the commandment to be generous and expansive in taking care of those in need.

Scene two in this chapter is what we see at the beginning of today’s gospel portion, where Jesus explains to his disciples that true righteousness starts not from the outside of a person, but from the heart—from the inside. For Jesus, true purity and righteousness is about relationships, not about legalism—about how we care for others rather than making a big show of how perfect we ourselves are. Jesus exasperatedly explains that what comes out of the mouth originates in the heart, and bad intentions from the heart leads to real impurity. The six specific impurities he mentions all have to do with broken relationships.

Jesus is accused in the first part of our gospel reading of not having respect for the Law, tradition, and his own culture. In the second half of our gospel, he starts from a prejudice rooted in his culture, and is brought to new amazement by a demonstration of faith where the prejudices of his time would least expect them—from a Canaanite woman. We also have one of the times when Jesus appears to be rude to a woman (remember also his response to his own mother when she asks him to perform the miracle at the wedding at Cana in John’s gospel).

This woman has all the marks of not just an underdog, but an outsider. She is called a “Canaanite,” to remind Matthew’s audience that she is by birth not just an outsider but an enemy of the people of Israel, a competitor for scarce resources— space, land and water. And she is a woman, and women were to be seen and not heard. Yet heard she most certainly is. She comes out and trails behind Jesus and his crowd of followers, caterwauling and braying at the top of her lungs—first from behind the crowd, and then, when she is ignored, she comes around and throws herself down on the ground right in Jesus’s path. She makes it impossible for him to ignore her.

The Canaanite woman asks her favor, will not be denied, and actually argues back to make her case. Only one who believes that Jesus could actually do something would be so determined. In fact this unnamed Canaanite woman is the only person in scripture to be depicted winning a debate with Jesus.

Although at first Jesus answers rudely to our ears (answering rudeness for rudeness, perhaps, but still rude), he does eventually note the power of her faith—and that faith makes her daughter well.

By acknowledging Jesus as the “son of David,” she shows, outsider or not, a familiarity with the Jewish scriptures. The term is also used ten times in the gospel of Matthew alone starting with the very first verse of the gospel. She also uses the language of prayer, “Lord, have mercy,” the same language used in many of our own prayers of intercession, or in the Kyrie eleison. In fact, this short scene is drenched in liturgical action, as she also kneels before him in a position of petition.

Four times in Matthew’s gospel, the plea “Have mercy on me, Son of David!” is used by people asking Jesus to be healed: the two blind men of 9:22-32 and two more in 20:25-21:1, who repeat the plea twice; and here, by the Canaanite woman. In each case of healing, Jesus makes it clear that their healing comes about through their faith, and this Canaanite woman is no different. In each case, the person seeking healing seizes the initiative.

The Canaanite woman is different in that she is a mother seeking healing for her daughter, who is not present. Her faith is so great that she believes that Jesus can heal an outsider’s daughter regardless of distance.

Here is where also we see the tie with the claims in Romans —God’s grace and mercy is for everyone, and no one is left out. Where we might expect Jesus to proclaim this himself, here we see an outsider CLAIM this for herself and her daughter. The teacher is taught something by the student he is inclined to disdain.

This epiphany to Jesus reminds us again that he was fully human as well as fully the Son of God, and could learn things and be surprised by them. It also reminds us that far too often are we prone to see others of different backgrounds as the enemy when in fact they are our brothers and sisters, with just claim upon us that should stir a just response rather than resentment. This also reminds us, as we noted in our reflections on Paul, that God’s love is universal, and is not limited to just people who hold the correct sets of beliefs or lineage.

I don’t know about you, but BOY is this a message for our time! Almost every policy discussion surrounding economics and the social safety net revolves around who does and does not deserve help.

So is tenacity a part of faith? What else is faith but perseverance and tenacity even in the face of obstacles? Faith, like any spiritual muscle, is strengthened especially when it is under stress. Only a few days ago we heard the story of Jacob wrestling with God/the angel in the middle of the night in a literal no-man’s land. Jacob couldn’t win, but he refused to back down until he endured a “cheap shot” to his hip—and then demanded a blessing.

Just like Jacob, this woman won’t let go until she, too, gets her blessing. She perseveres. In a popular phrase from our own time, “Nevertheless, she persists.” And in doing so, she invites Jesus into living deeper into the claim he had just made—that God’s grace is not just amazing, as the song goes, but astounding and boundary-exploding.

In the first part of our gospel, Jesus reminds us it is not what goes into a body that defiles, but what comes out. People are not “in” or “out” by accident of birth—where they are born, or who their parents are, or the color of their skin or the language they speak or whether they are outwardly good at following rules while inwardly cruel and hard-hearted. At some point in your life, you are responsible to choose whether to follow God and God’s expansive vision of community or not.

We see it a lot in our society right now, all over what was formerly known as “Christendom.” There are people who were born into Christian homes, and brought up with going to Church. They even absorbed knowledge of Bible stories and perhaps can quote the Lord’s prayer and the 23rd Psalm. They’re “culturally Christian”—nominally fluent in the language and rituals of the Christian religion. But unless they decide for themselves to walk in the Way of Jesus, no matter how imperfectly, their knowledge doesn’t translate into faith.

Luckily, if we can hear this message of radical generosity and inclusion, it means that as we embark on our journey of faith, we are assured that we are not only never outsiders, we are never alone. We not only have Jesus. We have each other. We are called to deny the forces of the world that seek to exclude, to divide, and instead to embrace those we encounter, especially those who call out for help. We ourselves have received astounding grace and mercy. It’s time to demonstrate that same grace to the world around us—especially when everything around us tries to make us hard-hearted and afraid. That’s how the light of Christ will shine, even in this time of fear and darkness. It will shine from inside us, once we embrace each other in true charity and empathy.

Amen.

Preached at the 10:30 am online worship service at St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville, MO during the cessation of in-person worship due to COVID-19.

Readings:

Genesis 45:1-15
Psalm 133
Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32
Matthew 15: (10-20), 21-28