Prayer 2565: God of Compassion, God of Justice

God of Compassion, we are your children,
and we praise You for your care of us
as the night tells its tale to the day.

God of Justice,
You are a God of power and light:
keep us from the vanity and ignorance of the wicked,
who scorn your ways and walk a crooked path,
whose stones are the oppression of the vulnerable.

Instead, in humility, we ask You,
O God Our Maker and Sustainer,
to restore our souls
and strengthen our determination
to obey your call to purification and repentance,
to service and care of others in your Name.

God of the Sojourner and the Refugee,
guide our hearts from the desert spaces we inhabit
through our own fear and anxiety.

Strengthen us in trust and faithfulness,
that we may be refreshed in hope
and drink deeply from the deep pools of your mercy,
led by your Word into life
eternal and abundant for all.

May the balm of your love, O Blessed Savior,
ease the ache of those who are suffering any distress
and strengthen those who care for the sick or sorrowing,
as we ask the blessing of the Holy Trinity
upon all for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer 2539

Blessed Savior, Prince of Peace, 
you are the Way, the Truth, and the Light: 
may we offer you our hearts and minds today. 
May we see God in each other,
and turn away from anger and division.

May we rebuke those who wish for the pain of others
so that they may prosper,
and pull down the thrones of oppression
that we support without thinking,
in the name of the One who created all things
and endows us with each breath.

Let us rather use our breath for song and praise,
use our hands for healing and repair,
use our hearts for the blessing of our neighbors,
and embody generosity and faithfulness
in the name of the God we worship.

May we place ourselves before your altars,
O Creator and Sustainer,
inviting the Holy Spirit to loose her power within us, 
that we be willing to follow in the Way of Love.

Holy God, we rest within your shelter
so that we may be strengthened to persevere in faith:
pour out your peace and compassion upon those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer 2529: The Turning- A Prayer for New Year's Day

Beloved Redeemer,
we greet your new year with open hearts:
fill them with your grace
that we may reflect your beauty
before the world.

May we turn our hearts
to shake out all the pieces of broken dreams
and rusted, dull aches and resentments
to which we cling,
that we may replace them
with the hope of new life and light
to which you call us in the coming year.

May we turn our feet
from all the paths that have not served us well,
and dedicate ourselves anew
to living with integrity and generosity,
at one with your wisdom, O Loving Creator.

May we turn our faces
toward the light of your promise, O Savior,
trusting in your goodness and mercy,
and allow our souls to be warmed
by your gospel sun dawning within them.

May we turn our tongues
to singing out your grace and truth
picking up the thread of melody
that flows from your call to follow You, O God,
and amplifying your beautiful hymn of life renewed
that echoes in creation.

May we turn our shoulders
to the wheels of justice and peace,
and turn our hands to join with each other,
resolute in standing as a bridge of mercy
in the breaches and chasms
that rend us one from another.

Spirit of Abundant Grace,
sustain us in our turning to You;
hover over us and lead us,
bless us and keep us,
and grant your blessing to those for whom we pray.

Amen.

The Miracle of Being Here: Sermon for Proper 25C, the 20th Sunday after Pentecost

Okay. Now I know some of y’all love fall and all. The mere thought of pumpkin spice everything probably makes more than one heart around here go all a pitty-pat. 

Me? I am a girl who sees pumpkin spice macaroni and cheese as a sign of the apocalypse, and yesterday when I was in Home Depot they had already started busting out the cinnamon-marinated straw brooms (and WHY is that a thing???) and back in the back they were already getting ready to tear down the Halloween decorations at 10 pm next Thursday and start slapping up the inflatable Buddy the Elf lawn ornaments, and then, Good Lord, it’s winter. 

And y’all remember last winter, right? That was enough winter last year to last me five winters. 

When I was a wee little towheaded tomboy, summer was my jam. Summer meant freedom. 

And one of the best sounds to me of that summer freedom was the raspy chorus of the cicadas and grasshoppers, who actually are related to locusts, that reached a peak in the late afternoons from the trees overhead. Their song to me meant the joy of the freedom to be out of the house, riding bikes or playing baseball with my friends, afterward laying in the cool green shade reading science fiction or Mad magazine and then hiding them from my mother who would have NOT approved of my taste in reading material. 

The green cicadas were the annual ones. But when I was twelve, I witnessed my first hatching of the periodical cicadas. 

These cicadas come in 13-year and 17-year cycles, and that year one of the 13-year cycles brought swarms of what we mistakenly called locusts out early and strong. They were bigger, they were black with glowing red eyes. In other words, they were creepy and cool. They also had a slightly different song than the annual ones, and I was fascinated by the fact that the sounds could carry for over a mile, weaving with the other cicadas’ as well as grasshoppers’ song into a kind of locust fugue. 

Those childhood memories came back to me vividly in the summer of 2015. Do you remember what happened that summer? The 13-year cicadas and the 17-year cicadas BOTH hatched in the same summer. It may have been terrifying to many of you, but to me it was awesome. I did feel a little guilty about laughing and watching a grown man who looked like he was a member of the Hell’s Angels run screaming and flailing across the parking lot at the Home Depot in Kirkwood as a swarm of cicadas chased him, but mostly I just enjoyed it and the sound of their songs merging together. 

But in the Bible, swarms of insects, especially locusts, were serious business. They could literally eat people out of house AND home. Remember, locusts were so feared that they were used as an actual PLAGUE by God in the Book of Exodus. This was no phenomenon that only happened in Biblical times, either. In 1874, a plague of Rocky Mountain locusts so vast that they blotted out the sun over an expanse of twelve states and territories pretty much ate all of the Great Plains down to stubble. It was kind of their last hurrah, because by the 20th century this kind of locust had become extinct. 

I tell you these stories to explain to you the context for the resounding hope and relief heard in our readings from Joel and Psalm 65 today. The Book of Joel was written in response to a cataclysmic plague of locusts that spread over several years and nearly drove the people of Israel to starvation. That time of trial, though, is receding in the background as the prophet speaks to us this morning. Instead, what we hear in our verses today is a vision of restoration, renewal, and rejoicing. The land, which has nearly been picked clean by clouds of insects that were said to resemble moving walls against the sky, is going to be brought back to flourishing. The time of terror of looming starvation is over. 

Right in the midst of the reading for today the people hear the promise of recovery and even future flourishing, with overflowing grain, wine, and oil, which are always the three symbols of the good life. Regardless of what has been endured in the past, a new day is upon the people. They are called to rebuild the foundation of their community by faith and thanksgiving. 

And then Joel goes further, and promises a pouring out of God’s own Spirit upon the people: 
“I will pour out my spirit on all flesh; 
    your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, 
your old men shall dream dreams, 
   and your young men shall see visions.” 
 The terror of the locust will be swept sway, and the abundance of the Earth will be so profound that the fear of starvation and being wiped out will itself fade away. Instead, in addition to a physical renewal, the people will experience a SPIRITUAL renewal. 

And I wonder if you recognize this promise in Joel as one we heard at the start of this summer, on Pentecost Sunday? Because this is the very passage in Joel that Peter quotes from on that very first Pentecost after those who see the disciples out in the streets praising God after the Spirit is poured out upon them—and instead they get charged with being drunk before noon. Remember that? It’s that kind of renewal, regeneration, and hope that seizes the people in Joel, and the early Church after they had just gone through the trauma of the crucifixion. 

 “I will pour out my spirit on all flesh; 
    your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, 
your old men shall dream dreams, 
    and your young men shall see visions.” 

They will join with all creation in singing God’s praises—which is what Psalm 65 describes. This abundant spirit that God asks us to welcome into our lives is the spirit of renewal of this community of faith and our commitment to the work of the wider Church at play in the fields of the Lord. It’s a vision of the reinvigoration of our sense of community and mission beyond these doors in the name of Love Incarnate. 

Psalm 65 carries forward that spirit of hope and renewal, singing out with thankfulness God’s grace to us even when we sin, and shouting out with joy God’s ongoing, creating spirit in the world around us. And even though it’s in no way a dependable translation, I do like the way theologian and pastor Eugene Peterson rendered this psalm in The Message Bible: 

Silence is praise to you, 
   Zion-dwelling God, 
And also obedience. 
  You hear the prayer in it all. 
We all arrive at your doorstep sooner 
   or later, loaded with guilt, 
Our sins too much for us— 
   but you get rid of them once and for all. 
Blessed are the chosen! Blessed the guest 
   at home in your place! 
We expect our fill of good things 
   in your house, your heavenly manse. 
All your salvation wonders 
   are on display in your trophy room. 
Earth-Tamer, Ocean-Pourer, 
   Mountain-Maker, Hill-Dresser, 
Muzzler of sea storm and wave crash, 
   of mobs in noisy riot— 
Far and wide they’ll come to a stop, 
 they’ll stare in awe, in wonder. 
Dawn and dusk take turns calling, 
  “Come and worship.” 
Oh, visit the earth, 
   ask her to join the dance! 
Deck her out in spring showers,
   fill the God-River with living water. 
Paint the wheat fields golden. 
   Creation was made for this! 
Drench the plowed fields, 
  soak the dirt clods 
With rainfall as harrow and rake 
   bring her to blossom and fruit. 
Snow-crown the peaks with splendor, 
   scatter rose petals down your paths, 
All through the wild meadows, rose petals. 
   Set the hills to dancing, 
Dress the canyon walls with live sheep, 
   a drape of flax across the valleys. 
Let them shout, and shout, and shout! 
   Oh, oh, let them sing! 

I love this version because the sense of the miraculous, the abundant glory and generosity of God around us saturates each verse. And even though the word is never used in any of our passages, what speaks to me, especially from the Hebrew scriptures today, is a sense of gratitude and a naming and claiming of the everyday miracles that too often get overlooked in our busy-ness and short attention spans. 

I am convinced that we need to hear this word of abundance and gratitude today in the modern Church. We’ve been told that the plague of locusts is at our door. We’ve been told that believing that God exists is pointless to so many. The idea that God is still active in creation as depicted in Psalm 65 is sneered at as old-fashioned, passe, anti-scientific. 

I am convinced that part of the reason why so many people who feel the absence of the holy yet turn away from faith feel that way has to do with the smug, self-centered, self-righteous faith that is the public face of Christianity in far too much of the world. You know the kind. The kind that stands in the public places like the smug hypocrite in our gospel passage, who congratulates himself for not being a sinner, a loser in his own eyes. The kind of person who has made his own sense of superiority and self-righteousness his god, without an ounce of compassion, love, or empathy for others in his shriveled, grinchy heart. 

Friends, that is not the gospel that is proclaimed here in our doors, nor, hopefully, is that the gospel we proclaim with our lives once we leave here. 

The gospel we proclaim is a gospel of radical love, radical welcome, radical grace—which is actually redundant. Grace by its very nature is radical. Grace by its very nature is abundant. It is the gospel, fueled by abundant and generous grace, with the pouring out of God’s spirit setting our hearts ablaze so that we can BE Christ’s eyes, heart, and healing hands out in a world. 

The miracle and abundance of God’s grace is not only our foundation as the people and the seekers and the disciples of St. Martin’s parish. That abundant love that we receive is just as overflowing as that grain, wine, and oil in the prophecy of Joel. It what calls us together in this place, and joins us together not just to love one another but to embody that love out into a world as starving for it as if a plague of locusts had swept through and taken everything down to the ground. 

I discovered this poem a few weeks ago, and I wanted to share it with you. The poet, Marilyn Nelson, has written a series of poems about a monk named Abba Jacob, who is full of sage observation. Here’s the story she tells in her poem “Abba Jacob and Miracles:” 

One day Abba Jacob 
was praying in a sunbeam 
by the door in his underground cell, 
and the brethren came to him 
to ask him about miracles. 
One of the elders said, 
My mother's spirit came back 
and turned out all the lights 
the night we gathered for her wake: 
Was that a miracle? 
Another said, One spring evening 
a white rainbow of mist 
passed over our heads: 
Was that a miracle? 
They went on like this 
for several hours. 
Abba Jacob listened. 
Then there was silence. 

Big deal, 
said Abba Jacob. 
Miracles happen all the time. 
We're here, aren't we? 

We’re here, aren’t we? And isn’t that the real miracle that undergirds all the other miracles we encounter every day? We are here, and we are called to embody the abundant and generous love of Christ with joy and gratitude. THAT’S a miracle in this day and age. 

Here’s the thing: when it comes to miracles, I am convinced that there are three kinds of people in this world. 

First, there’s those who deny the existence of miracles, and see the world ticking along, predictable and dull and maybe even cruel, every day. 

Then there are those who only use that word for the really big stuff, like the tumor that rather than growing blinks out of existence and, despite all probability, disappears or the tornado that skips your block or the car that enters the intersection and shield the family crossing the street from being hit head on by the speeding car that tears through the intersection on a red light headed straight at them. For these people, miracles are when the odds are defied and the laws of nature get leapfrogged. 

Then there are those who see miracles everywhere. 

I’d like to ask you to consider being one of the proud members of group number 3. 

This poem reminds us that miracles surround us, but we miss them most of the time. We make it harder on ourselves to see the abundance of miracles that crowd around us because we too often look for the dazzling, the shockingly out of place. 

But let's try this: Close your eyes. 

Breathe. 

Whether it feels easy or difficult, here right within us is a miracle, one that happens without thought and cannot be stopped by a mere thought. 

Even though it happens on average for each of us 16 times a minute, 960 times an hour, 23,040 time per day, 672,768,000 in a lifetime if we live to the age of 80. 

If we witness the first one for someone, we acknowledge it as a miracle, and if we witness the last one for someone, that also can be a miracle nonetheless. 

We love that breath when it powers a beautiful sung note. Some of us get impatient when it powers a shout or a yell or a sour note on a beginner’s clarinet that shrieks like a banshee. But even then, that breath behind that sound is a glorious miracle, a reminder that there is someone here, among us, requesting our attention and hoping, really, for our kindness and care and protective acceptance in response. 

This community is a miracle. A miracle as real and necessary as breathing. And as we consider how we can support this community, we are really considering how we can support each other. We’re here, aren’t we? 

It’s important to remember that we are given the gift of each breath, and each day from God. Jesus constantly teaches us to use each one of our precious days to make the most of this life. As we all pray to increase our commitment and support for this community and each other in the coming weeks, 

I hope you consider the spirit of renewal and hope that is stirring in this place, and determine to help build a firm foundation at St. Martin’s that will endure for years to come. I hope your prayers lead you to go all in in the building together of a Beloved Community here that proclaims a message of ongoing renewal through the creating power of God active in the world right now, in miracles both small and great. 

Amen.

Preached at the 505 on October 26, and at 8:00 ands 10:30 am on October 27, 2019, at St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville.

Readings:
Joel 2:23-32Psalm 652 Timothy 4:6-8,16-18Luke 18:9-14

Prayer 2247: Third Sunday of Lent C

Almighty One,
we gather before You
in reverence and humility,
our hearts seeking your light.

May we turn aside from our busyness
and see the flame of your presence before us,
on the holy ground of our lives.

May we re-member and embody
your Name of Love
as your witnesses,
and work for the liberation and care of your creation.

For You are the One who called creation into being;
who called Abram to embrace your covenant;
who called Jacob despite his youth;
who called Joseph even though the way seemed dark.

May we hear your loving entreaty to us
and turn again to your Way of Love,
trailing compassion and healing behind us.

Blessed One, strengthen us in mercy and justice,
and grant your comfort to those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer 1839: Within the embrace of God

Holy, Holy, Holy Lord,
gathered within your embrace
we arise to greet the beauty of this day,
eager to walk in love and faithfulness,
led by the light, grace, and reconciling example of Christ.

Almighty Creator,
You have woven the night sky and morning clouds
into a tapesty of beauty,
reminding us of your promise of faithfulness,
You who call the stars by name
and have inscibed each of us on your hand.

Sustain us with your word, Blessed Jesus,
that our hearts be transformed in love and compassion
 that we tenderly care for each other
in witness to all You have done for us.

Renew us, O Holy Spirit,
in generosity and lovingkindness,
that we may see and know our mutual dependence
as one body, one spirit, one creation.

Merciful One, pour out your grace and healing
upon all for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer 1792: for the courage to assent

God of power and glory,
we come before You
as dawn pulls back the curtain of night,
as we hear the call of our Savior at the doors of our souls:
Spirit of God, enter, and guide us.

From the foundation of time
You have loved us, O God:
You have molded us as vessels of holiness
and honored us by calling us into fellowship with all creation:
may we joyfully assent and delight in your will.

We are bound together by your grace
and redeemed by your mercy, blessed Jesus;
may we exalt You
with the works of our hands and hearts,
led by utmost devotion and joy.

Let us open our eyes
to see the beauty of Christ in every face-
in the hungry, the homeless, the imprisoned-
and persevere in love and deed
until all are secure, content, and at peace.

Let us jubilantly set our shoulders to the yoke of love,
taking up the works of holiness and redemption
that our Savior taught us to walk in,
singing songs of praise.

You know our hearts, O God:
forge within us the bright flame of compassion
that we may welcome your Spirit of Healing within us.
Bend near, O Merciful One:
give us the courage and strength
to assent to your call to us,
and stoop to hear our prayers,
which we humbly place before You.

Amen.

Prayer 1774: Monday of Advent 1

O God, your mercy is everlasting,
and we bow before you in gratitude and praise,
seeking your wisdom and truth.

Make us a people embodying Christ's love,
that we may be a blessing
and worthily bear your light and Spirit into the world.

Lead us by your light into paths of compassion,
honoring your image in all creation;
awaken us to our kinship
with all You have made, O Holy One.

May the stones in the hearts of the merciless
be shattered and tremble to dust;
replace them, O God, with hearts of flesh,
that true justice and peace be our standard.

Heal us of our infirmities of soul and body,
O Great Physician;
guide the hands of the healers;
send your angels to watch over all seeking healing.

Spread the mantle of your blessing over us,
O Savior and Redeemer,
and may the blessed weight of your peace
rest upon those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Photo: morning light reflected on the walls of First Presbyterian Church, University City, MO.

Prayer 1678: Restore our hearts

Navajo Madonna and Child by Bro. Robert Lenz.

Eternal One,
who is making the heavens and the earth,
holy and honored be your Name.

In humility, we bow down before You,
who have loved us into being:
abide within us always.
Grant us wisdom, O God,
that we may turn our minds toward peace
by building foundations of justice and love.
Help us cast away our hearts of stone
that beat like fists within us;
place within us hearts for love and service, we pray.

Take us by the hand and lead us
in the way of your commandments,
abounding in amity and hope.
By the love of Christ,
mark us as your own sheep,
and place the seal of your healing
on those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer 1666: for renewal in the face of hatred and terror

Waterfall and rainbow, Yosemite.

Creator God,
whose Spirit moved over the waters of creation,
we thank You for our life and breath to sing your praise.

We ask your Spirit to move over us
and create clean, restored hearts,
purged of violence, prejudice, and hatred.
We ask the light and love of Christ to dwell within us,
that we be healers and helpers to those in pain.
May we stand resolutely
in the breaches of our common life,
renouncing terror, malice, and exploitation.

Spread the wings of your comfort, Lord,
over all those in pain or in mourning,
in fear or despair or awash in loss.
Be with the sick, the weary, and the abandoned;
may we act to ease their pain in your Holy Name.
Lord, we place our cares and concerns before You,
and ask your blessing on those whom we now name.

Amen.

Prayer 1660: for renewal and strength

Holy One,
You have guarded us in the depths of night,
and we turn to You like a child in her mother's arms.
Spirit of the Living God,
hover over us and renew our souls,
as You seek to work creation anew within us.

Revive and restore us,
planted firmly in hope,
that we may rededicate ourselves to You, O God.
Lead us to examine our hearts,
and purify our intentions,
that we may serve You
and each other
and all creation with joy.

For it is in giving that we receive,
and in serving that we lead,
as You teach us, Lord Christ.
Receive the whispered prayers of all who turn to You,
we humbly pray,
especially for these beloveds
whom we now place before You.

Amen.

Prayer 1409: for renewal

Just when you think you are lost, light breaks through, and a path is found.

Holy One, we lift our praise to you on the morning wind, remembering your goodness and lovingkindness in all things. Our souls wait for you, O Lord; like watchmen for the morning, we seek You and your wisdom to guide us.

Help us be humble and kind, remembering your compassion to all who turn to You in need. Let us seek to give what we ourselves receive, and walk in mercy and fellowship with each other as you teach us to do.

Let us remember that Christ comes among us as refugee and asylum-seeker as well as healer. Let us see your face, Lord Jesus, in the faces of the poor, the desperate, and the marginalized. Let us still our souls to hear your call to forgiveness and repentance as we walk our pilgrim path in service to You, O God.

Bless all people in their daily lives and work, Almighty One, and place the balm of your Spirit on those we now name.

Amen.

The Kindom of God: Speaking to the Soul, November 8, 2016

Sunrise hope.

Isaiah 65:17-25
Isaiah 12:2-6 (Canticle 9)

Today is a day of great anxiety for so many people, for here in the US it is Election Day. Although it feels like this election season has gone on forever, by this evening, we will have a host of issues decided in this country, from local elections for mayor in some places, to members of Congress, and, of course, the presidency.

Anxiety is absolutely a reasonable thing to feel with so much on the line. However, our anxiety is magnified by the way that political conversations are now played out, with an unending news cycle, with too many ads that prey upon our fears and worries. The negative way is the preferred way when it comes to campaigns attempting to wheedle our votes out of us.

What greater tonic could there be, then, to choose this day to sit with our first two readings from the lectionary for this coming Sunday, both from the book attributed to the prophet Isaiah. Both speak of hope, and even more importantly, of community, and of kinship. Both speak of being saved from the brink of disaster. Both call us to testify to the promise we have not in our own power, but in the power of unity, compassion, and cooperation which lead to real peace and ledership. Both call us to remember the power of God as revealed to us in service, that calls us to allow ourselves to be remade as well, remade by hope and faith in both God and each other. That’s a message that we often do NOT hear over the drumbeat of division and suspicion which has been playing in an infinite loop for the last 18 months or so.

While political opponents all too often make arguments from the negative, Isaiah’s songs in chapters 12 and 65 attempt to lead us by the hand, loving us into remembering that we are all children of God through hope and faith, and the hope of new creation also seeks to take root within us. Too many people are hurting in our world, hungry, outcast, shamed, marginalized, denied justice or mercy. In a world oriented to justice and peace, such as that described here at the end of Isaiah, these kinds of tragedies are unimaginable, if we allow God’s love to work a new creation within our hearts, and determine to come together, person by person.

In the first reading, from Isaiah 65, God reminds us that God is continually creating “a new heavens and a new earth.” This new heaven and earth will be so radiant that it will wipe away all of the sorrows and fears we have been bearing like a rusted suit of armor. Oh, that creation could be remade anew! What glories would our eyes behold if we were to wipe away all the imperfections that have developed in creation—often at the hand of mankind— and see again with new eyes the marvelous works of God. There is a reason why have heard this passage already once this year: on Easter Sunday, Resurrection Day—a day when all things are also made new, when destruction and division itself is destroyed.

Now, ideas about a “new Jerusalem” have been very influential in American history—and by “American,” I mean the history of the Americas, not just our own United States. Too often, the image of a “new Jerusalem” has been conflated with the shining “city on a hill” mentioned in Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5, a place that stands as a beacon to the rest of the world’s darkness. Here in the US, images such as these have been used politically from the time of the Puritans through the Reagan era and beyond to bolster ideas of exceptionalism, into a kind of calculus in which “we” are the winners and “they” are the losers—a complete subversion of the idea of a new creation.

This new creation is not meant to exclude anyone. It is also not meant to be external to us. In Genesis 2, humans were active assistants with God in creation, made servants of the earth, to tend a till the new creation in the garden. Likewise, in Isaiah 65, what if we understood that his new creation is taking place right here, right now, within us? What if we took seriously God’s call to renewal and rededication to a new way of living together as God’s holy people?

And what does this have to do with our anxiety today, with all the stresses and strains of our life? Perhaps God is calling us to open our spirits and minds to release the fear that we have fallen into, and allow that new creation to take root within our own stony hearts. That’s the first place this new creation can start. And that is exactly the message that we, as Christians, believe came into the world through Jesus Christ. Jesus quoted the prophet Isaiah more than any other prophetic work from scripture, such as in Luke 4, when Jesus quotes Isaiah 61:1-2 in the synagogue: “The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor….” We can rejoice in this proclamation of Christ’s ministry, and use it to remind ourselves of this renewal within our own lives, even in times of anxiety on days like these. Christ’s ministry is our own as Christians, as hopeful, joyous members of the Jesus Movement.

This song from Isaiah 65 points the way to what that can be like. Three major shifts will take place: God will take joy in this new work; justice, contentment, and peace will take the place of weeping, vulnerability, and injustice; and relationships and the order of nature will be transformed so that none must suffer or be deprived so that another may prosper. What if we looked at this three moves in Isaiah 65 as God’s call to us, to allow ourselves to be transformed and be partners and fellow-workers in the fields of renewal and justice that scripture describes, again and again?

If we all understood that we are members of one community—the kingdom of God, yes, but more importantly, the kindom of God—we might not just be satisfied with a human calculus that divides our fellow human beings and children of God into circles of ”them” and “us”—which is unfortunately another way to say “losers” and “winners.” As our canticle on Sunday from Isaiah 12 reminds us, since God is our salvation, we WILL “trust and not be afraid.” When we place our trust in the eternal hope that is revealed to us in Christ, we WILL draw water with rejoicing from the springs of salvation." That's the most important choice facing us today, and every day. 

God is eternal. Love is eternal. How can we not have hope if we act in light of this knowledge and come together as kin within the embrace of the Almighty?

(This essay was first published on the Episcopal Cafe's Speaking to the Soul on November 8, 2016.)