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

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

A Time to Choose: Sermon for Proper 27A

Choices. This week especially we have been reminded that we have choices.

We can choose one candidate, or the other. Or we can choose not to choose, and fool ourselves into thinking that refusing to choose isn’t itself a choice, and the worst one of all possible options, because it surrenders the agency that is part of what makes us human.

We can choose to be present in this moment, with all its pain and potential, rather than distract ourselves with electronics for fear of "boredom." We can choose to forgive someone, even if they never truly repent of the wrongs they have done us, even if they vaguely mutter that they “may have” hurt you when they know damn well that they have. Even if we know they ask our forgiveness out of selfishness, rather than because they seek healing or reconciliation.

Some people get lots of choices, because they’ve got lots of resources. Some effectively don’t have many choices, because they don’t have resources, through things they don’t get to choose, like the color of their skin or the place of their birth or their name or their caste. And we can choose to acknowledge that, and work together for better.

This week in America, we celebrate the fact that we DO have choices, and we stand up to make sure that our choices build up rather than destroy, that they are motivated by love and faith rather than hatred.

Even when you make the choice to come to church, there are choices in the lectionary. And our lectionary readings today are about choices, as well, as they often are, because no matter what some people claim, God wove the ability to make choices into the fibers of our bones and does not foreordain the outcome of illness, elections, or even football games that go into double overtime, no matter how strong the fans of Notre Dame think their connection with God is.

In our reading from Thessalonians, we see people being urged to choose faithfulness in the face of disappointment. In our gospel, we see both wise and foolish people within the community of Jesus can fail to have faith in the abundance of God and help support each other in remaining within the Body of Christ, instead choosing to live by a heartless insistence on scarcity that we ourselves know all too well.

The starkest choice in all our readings, though, is the one laid before the people in our reading from the Hebrew histories. The book of Joshua is the first of the books of history after the five books of the Torah, and tells the story of what happened under the leadership of Joshua, who succeeded Moses. Due to the placement of All Saints’ Day, this is the only reading from the entire book we will hear.

What we miss is the sweep of Joshua’s leadership. Moses, remember, dies without being actually allowed to enter the Promised Land. Joshua is anointed as leader, it actually has to bear the responsibility of leading the Israelites into Canaan. And it's a temptation, just like in the founding of America, to imagine that the land that they entered was empty of people already there (by the way, that is never true --not in America and not in Canaan). Instead, what happens is that the Israelites almost immediately have to engage in a series of wars with the various inhabitants of Canaan in order to get a part of it for themselves. That constant warfare is what we missed in the chapters we have skipped over.

When two cultures collide, there was always an exchange of customs and ideas that goes both ways. One of the common effects upon the colonizers, whether they were Europeans in America or Israelites going into Canaan, was the tendency of “going native.” When our first Anglican ancestors landed in Virginia in the 16th century, they soon ditched the European garb made for a European climate, and instead began to dress in buckskins and moccasins, and ate native food, such as corn, succotash, and pumpkin, even adapting canoes and dugouts for transportation on rivers and streams.

With the Israelites, the temptation to “go native” was different. They were, after all, a people who had already three times under Moses promised to worship only Yahweh. And yet, as they settled in their new lands, hard one through numerous battles, they looked around and saw their neighbors worshipping a variety of weather and fertility gods in particular-- gods who are small enough to fit into your pockets. Gods who were small enough to stick to one particular area of life and not be so terrifyingly, overwhelmingly all-knowing and all-seeing and creator of every single thing in the universe, as Yahweh claimed to be. Their neighbors’ gods were appealing because they were manageable gods. Controllable gods. Gods who sometimes demanded human sacrifice—but hey, those sacrificed were usually enemies, so it really wasn’t seen as a loss. The kind of gods humans have ALWAYS loved to fashion for ourselves, because in the end they are handy scapegoats for problems and outlets for our longing to have a powerful, wish-fulfilling genie in our weak little hands.

And so Joshua lays it all out for them: they must choose. Yahweh or idolatry. And he doesn't do too good a job of selling it, either. He claims-- falsely-- that God will not forgive , I guess he might have been injecting some of his own frustration with this stubborn people.

Against all odds, they choose Yahweh. And it is a choice that periodically has to be renewed in the history of Israel. It's hard to remain faithful, especially when you're surrounded by people who live a different way. It's hard to remain faithful, because there are idols everywhere. And that is just as true now, 8000 years later, as it was there as Joshua addressed the people of Israel and laid the matter out for them starkly.

We may take pride in our ultra-modern, postmodern way of life, where we are surrounded culturally by a social order in America shaped by Christendom specifically. We take it for granted that we will get time off for Christmas or get visited by the Easter Bunny, even if we never darken a church door. In this country, as well as in most of the Western World, Christian traditions and holidays remain ubiquitous even as those who claim to be Christian has steadily decreased until people who acknowledge themselves as Christians are now approaching a minority in this country. 

Yet it's true: we are all born with a God-shaped hole inside of us that only God can really fill, as the French theologian Blaise Pascal pointed out in the 17th century. But it’s easier to try to fill that hole with things. And those things anesthetize us, and close us off from being open to God and seeking God. We want control. And so we too often we want those tiny little gods, rather than the capital G God.

I want to propose to you that rather than being necessarily a tragedy, this decrease in nominal Christian identity is actually might be a good thing. There has been and there continues to be great damage done to the cause of Christ by those who in name only are Christian-- by those who subvert and tarnish Jesus’s name as a way to gain political power or economic advantage. Because then we are living in a world shaped by Christendom, which seeks to dominate and oppress dissent, but not by Christ, who seeks to call us to choose love and see our commonality with all of creation.

This week, we continue to see COVID-19 numbers exploding, despite ridiculous predictions to the contrary, and all this week we heard a lot of arguing about ballots and whether or not to count them. And what boggles the mind is that there are people in this world who claim to be Christian, and yet look at that suffering and injustice, and shrug—or worse, become gleeful about it by calling it “justice.” This is not faith, but hatred.

The words we use matter. Look behind the mathematical words "numbers" and "counting" and remember that there are human beings behind those COVID cases and behind those votes. All just as beloved of God as we are, and who are our kindred as God’s children. No matter what, as our kindred, not our competitors, we are called to love and works with each other. Choosing Jesus means choosing the well-being of each other, turning aside from trying to push others down, or strip them of rights we claim for ourselves.

We need to remember that every number represents a person, and a web of family and friends around that person.

It's not about "us" and "them."
It's all "us."

The goal of our political lives, especially of the political lives of those who are people of faith, must never be the destruction of our “enemies,” but to abandon the language of “enemy” on those who are our fellow-humans. To understand that disagreement is healthy (and can even be educational, if you listen as much as you talk), but compromise and collaboration are healthier still. To remember that the benefits of living in a community such as a parish or a nation outweighs the fact that, just like toddlers, we don’t always get everything we want, and that our greatest strength comes from each other in times of crisis, not setting up lines of battle between us.

Being disciples of Jesus means that the most visible way of showing Jesus’s power and glory is by how we demonstrate our love for other, even those with whom we disagree. And that’s important as we desperately need to heal the wounds inflicted by this last many months, especially.

This is the absolute core of Jesus's teaching, and it is a revolutionary idea meant to turn the world upside down, just like those Beatitudes we have been urged to lean into since hearing them last Sunday. We are all one. We are all beloved of God. Rights are not pie-- we don't get more for ourselves by denying rights to other people. Similarly, God’s love is NOT pie, either.—we don’t get more for ourselves by excluding others.

And the world needs to see this witness from us in our relations with all of those around us. Even in, especially in, this modern time, the greatest competition to Christianity is not atheism, or trendy mishmashes of spiritual practices from around the world. The biggest idols we often worship instead of God are ourselves—especially our tendency to draw a tiny circle around those we consider worthy, and making everyone else around us an enemy. And it sneaks up on you, because these gods and idols are everywhere. So we all need to ask ourselves: what gods am I worshiping to fill the God-shaped hole inside myself?

We must not make enemies of each other. We must not put our trust and faith in things or human-designed economic or political systems that benefit the few at the expense of the many and treat them as if they are sacred. People, even those different from us, are sacred. Creation, which we are called to care for not drain dry, is sacred. God, who chooses us and ask us to choose God back, is sacred.

Jesus did not come to teach us passivity or to draw exclusionary lines. Jesus came to urge us to choose the power of community, and to remind us that we may not be able to do everything, but we all have the ability to do something to make things better for those around us. Even if that's just mask-wearing, hand-washing, and distancing from others.

Now is the time to reach deep within ourselves, and witness to the healing and reconciling love of Christ. The easiest way to witness to that love and its power is to choose it and commit to that love ourselves. Right now. All that we have and all that we are comes from God. That’s why we are called to take care of each other and this earth we live upon, and to give to God boldly, so that we may witness boldly. Choose community over division. Choose love for everyone. Choose God.

Amen.

Preached at the 10:30 am online worship service from St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville, in time of COVID.

Readings:

Joshua 24:1-3a, 14-25
Psalm 78:1-7
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
Matthew 25:1-13

Prayer 2841: The Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost

Eternal God, we open the doors of our hearts:
enter into our lives this day,
and make us whole.

Reconcile us to You, and one another,
that we amend our lives
and repair our relationships.
Teach us to tend
to the oil of our lamps,
and remember that
You are the source of all sight.
Make us not just wise but compassionate,
putting aside the fear of scarcity
that grips us by the throat
when we forget your promises.
Make us steadfast in protecting
the rights of all to food, shelter, and care,
that justice may roll down like waters
and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

Draw near, O God, to the broken-hearted:
give your angels charge over those wait upon You.

Amen.

Prayer 2840: Like a high-flying bird

Like a high-flying bird,
like a hawk upon a current,
let my soul arise on wings of hope
to You, my God and Savior.

Like a dawn sparrow
let me sing out my praise
for all the blessings and opportunities
of the coming day,
O Holy One.

Like the flash of a cardinal

as it hops among branches,

let me give joy and bring wonder

to someone today, O Savior.

Bring us within the bounds of your mercy,
Lord Jesus, we pray,
and gather us to you,
as a mother hen guard her nest:
hold us within your hands,
and nurture us in wisdom
that we may grow stronger in faith.

Give us courage
in the face of our trials and uncertainties,
O Rock and Redeemer,
and let your Spirit brood over us
and create within us clean hearts
to strengthen us to work and praise this day.

Draw within the bounds of your mercy, O God,
all those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer, day 2839: For Resilience

Be among us, Lord Jesus,

as we make our prayers to You.

Be among us, O Almighty One,
as we meditate upon your Word
and remember your saving help.
Be among us, O Spirit of Truth,
to guide our hearts, minds, and souls
and make them holy offerings to our God.
Be among us, O God,
as storms rage without and within,
and lead us to safety and reconciliation.

May peace, justice, compassion, and love reign
in our lives today, O Merciful One.
May we embody God's grace in our words and deeds,
and testify always to your mercy and care as we pray

What Do You Expect?: Sermon for the Feast of All Saints, 2020

One of the benefits of having parents who were older than your friends’ parents is that you then have relatives who are mostly older that your friends’ relatives. My dad’s parents were born in the last decade of 19th century, for instance. Seriously. 130 years ago. My Mom’s dad was the baby of 17 children. We spent lots of time in my childhood in the backseat of a car, unbuckled, driving hours to visit the dozens of great-aunts and-uncles and second cousins so old we called them aunts and uncles too. With no idea of how crazy it seems now, we’d spread out on a mattress in the back of a truck camper or station wagon, going to this relatives’ house or that one, all over the prairie west of Oklahoma.

Then when we got to wherever we were going, we would be around really old people. But I looked at it as people who has SEEN and EXPERIENCED things. I would listen to the stories of their lives and learn about my family’s history. One of my great-grandfathers on my Dad’s side, for instance, was the meanest so and so in seven counties on both sides of the Red River. He was a moonshiner who terrorized his family (it wasn’t explained like that but I read between the lines). He married a Native American woman, but refused to register the children on the tribal rolls because then they would have been excluded from schools for white children. Now, anyone in the county could see that these kids were half Native. But they went to the white kids’ schools because everybody was too afraid of their father to challenge this. This was one of the few benefits that accrued to his descendants from his meanness, but it was not an insubstantial one.

Sometimes, the older folks would actually talk to us kids rather than send us out to play. I remember I was helping one of my great-aunts make a blackberry cobbler one time in her tiny kitchen in the part of the clapboard house that had dated from territory times. It was about a million degrees in that kitchen, but she had cool sweet lemonade and the Cardinals game on a tiny radio, and so that helped overcome a lot of my resistance at being forced into the women’s sphere of life while the men sat in the breezeway and played dominoes and smoked. 

She told me all kinds of stories while we worked, but one statement buried within one of them has stuck with me until this day: “Well, what do you expect? Because the lower you set your expectations, the more likely it is that they will be fulfilled, but leave you dissatisfied.”

I don’t know why that moment struck me so vividly. But it has stayed with me for decades now, and has been one of the most encouraging mantras of my life.

Expectations can shape your perception of the world, for the good, or for the bad. Looking back over my life, I see how my aunt’s wisdom has played out again and again. If you expect something to fail, you make it that much harder for it to succeed, and you even may take steps, consciously or unconsciously, to enable that failure. If you expect something to succeed, you will invest of yourself to help make that thing succeed, and you will be more likely to persevere to make that success a reality.

Look at how the post-war American public school system was proclaimed a failure twice in the 20th century. The first time was during the Cold War, when the Soviets were supposedly beating us technologically. But at that time, we decided we expected better. The answer then, in the 1950s, was to pour federal money into the schools to improve them, and also to desegregate them. And our schooling system, from kindergarten to college level, even with its rampant inequalities, became the envy of the world.

The second time our schools were declared failures was in the 1980s. But this time, the answer was to siphon funding away from schools—and for forty years we have slashed state and local tax support for our schools. We also resisted fully implementing desegregated schools when we realized that it would mean desegregating our neighborhoods, and you can still see this at work here in St. Louis. Those with means began setting up a partially-privately funded tier of schools, and siphoned even more money and support away. We let criticism become expectation. And now our schools are struggling and gasping for air, even as we pile more demands upon them. And the states who have most slashed funding to schools have seen their populations and economies dwindle.

I am certain NONE of us expected 2020 to be the rollercoaster it has become. And we had some expectations shattered yesterday, didn’t we? We expected to have a little celebration, but, then Bill and I learned that our daughter had tested positive for COVID19, and that exposed us, potentially. We made the decision to postpone our Celebration of New Ministry out of caution and love for each other. But rather than be disappointed, instead, we can just adjust ourselves back to anticipation. Yesterday, also, I expected then to be leading this service from church—and yet for the sake of all whom I love, here we are back in the Church of My Basement, surrounded by my own wall of saints and icons, until we finish our fourteen days of quarantine.

Our gospel today is about expectations. Actually, our gospel almost EVERY day is about expectations.

In today’s gospel, we hear the first part of Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount—the most famous part, probably: the Beatitudes. What we may not hear are the expectations that Jesus is challenging in each one of the eight statements he makes. Yet he names groups of people, starting with those who struggle with the disappointments of this world, the poor in spirit, the ones who struggle against hopes being dashed, with instead being the recipients of God’s abundance and generosity. Each of these blessings begins in the present (Blessed ARE…) and points to the future (for they WILL BE…), except for the first and the eighth statements, which say that the poor in spirit and those who are persecuted are blessed “for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Is. Present tense. The kingdom of heaven is inbreaking right now. Those who expect it can see it, and work for it, even in the midst of a pandemic. For it is during times of crisis that we humans can shake off our isolation and worship of self, a selfishness which only leads to feeling more vulnerable. We can instead remember that united we stand, and divided we most certainly will fall.

Especially as we deal with expectations at war with fear and division this week as we await, finally, Election Day, with a mixture of relief and dread, we need this reminder. So too, our political lives are rooted in the present, but should look forward in hope to a better future for all. Politics is about how we live with each other—partisanship is the disagreement about the basis of our common life. But our life together is political in best sense. As Christians, we are called first and foremost be a people of faith, hope, and love. We need to be people whose expectations are grounded in abundance. Yes—we actually NEED this, in order to sustain ourselves in the times of struggle.

And the WORLD needs us to be those people too. If we don’t witness in our lives to God’s abundance and presence in the world, who will? That’s the expectation that shaped the influence of all the saints we remember today. They looked, and saw what was, but then lived into the expectation of God’s grace and abundance. They didn’t have to be perfect to do that. They just had to open themselves, even a tiny bit, to being channels of God’s grace.

The Beatitudes remind us that those who are especially blessed of God are not the high and mighty ones, but those who are on the side of those the world esteems little: the poor, the weak, the suffering, the innocent, the peacemakers, and those who persevere in discipleship even when they stand at risk of unjustly losing all the things the world values. The Beatitudes are addressed to the Church, to those who proclaim that they are disciples of Jesus. Those who are blessed are those who look beyond themselves.

The world, especially the economic and the partisan world, tries to shake this out of us, of course. That world wants to convince us that scarcity and poverty in spirit rules the day and haunts the night. And here we see it again—expect that you will never have enough, and you will never feel that you have enough, no matter how much you actually have. The more you hold back, the less generous you become—and that applies to stewardship and church budgets as well. Those who are blessed are those who see what could be, and work and give to make that a reality and be a part of that reality. Faithful hope is the price of admission. Those who are blessed are those whose expectations are grounded in knowing that hope can be a more powerful instrument than faithlessness in changing the world for the better.

The gospel is a long, narrative story of expectations being shattered when the reign of God breaks in. The peasant teenager named Mary didn’t expect to have that angel pop up in front of her and call her “Favored One.” Joseph didn’t expect to have to explain a pregnant fiancée. Those shepherds didn’t expect to see the heavens break open and see the constellations swirl in beat to a hallelujah chorus. The Magi expected that special baby to be in a palace, not a hovel. Nobody expected a great prophet to come out of Nazareth. Nobody expected a carpenter’s son to be a healer and teacher, much less a savior.

And the gospels themselves are located with one single plot of scripture, as my beloved teacher and Psalm scholar Clint McCann would remind us repeatedly in seminary. And that plot is the reality of God’s grace. Genesis chapters 1-9 are about God’s relationship with the world- as Genesis 9 reminds us, God covenants with humanity, every creature, and even with the earth itself God calls us to embody justice by showing us that justice is grounded not in retribution, but in forgiveness and mercy—grace again, and the prophets attest to this even as they rail against human faithlessness.(1) 

We are called to live our lives as Christians by taking seriously the hope and grace that is at the heart of God’s relationship with us. When we are transformed by this good news, this outpouring of blessing even upon those the world denigrates or overlooks, we move into the realm of the power of expectation—beyond the tension of what IS, to the assurance of what WILL BE.

What do you expect? What you expect becomes what you look for, and that then leads to what you see—or don’t see. As we remember the saints in our lives, let us decided, right now, today, to let those expectations lead us to the proclamation of the kingdom of God and the abundance of God’s dream for us, right here, right now.

Amen.


This sermon was preached at the 10:30 livestream worship from St. Martin's Episcopal Church during Coronatide on November 1, 2020, the Feast of All Saints.

Readings:

Revelation 7:9-17
Psalm 34:1-10, 22
1 John 3:1-3
Matthew 5:1-12

Citations:

1) The Rev. Dr. J. Clint McCann, Jr., "The Hermeneutics of Grace: Discerning the Bible's Single Plot," in Interpretation, January, 2003, pp. 5-15.