Showing posts with label responsibility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label responsibility. Show all posts

Saturday, November 5, 2022

The Gift of Interdependence: Sermon for All Saints/All Souls' Day, Year C



There are certain parts of scripture that are beautiful poetry and resonant truth, passages that burrow their way into the wider culture, like the first verse of Genesis, or the Ten Commandments, or the 23rd Psalm. These are often familiar to people even if they don’t consider themselves religious.

One of the things that makes scripture enduring even beyond people who identify as followers is the universal truths they contain. Our gospel today contains one of them: the golden rule. Which we heard right there at the end of the gospel: treat others as you want to be treated. It shows up in every religion on earth, from Hinduism to Buddhism to Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. It’s so simple—and yet so important. Can you imagine what the world would be like if we all really followed just that one little commandment?

Some of these universal truths in scripture even make it into popular culture, especially music. For instance, back in the 1980s, there was this new band called U2, three of whom were Irish Anglicans, who burst onto MTV with their first US hit-- a driving rocker called “Gloria.” This one was not the song the St. Louis hockey fans sing to bring good luck—it was about Glory to God. I know! Being sung on MTV.

Then a but later there was a new wave band called Mr. Mister that even had a hit based on a poppy, upbeat take-off of the Kyrie Eleison, or Gloria, that is right there in our prayerbooks on p. 361. Unbelievable, right?

When I was in college, I had a poster in my dorm room of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, written in calligraphy. It goes like this:
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to reap;
a time to kill, and a time to heal,
a time to break down, and a time to build up…
and so on.

This was more old school—it had been turned into a folk song called “Turn! Turn! Turn!” in the 1950s by Pete Seeger, the coolest banjo-playing grandpa ever, and later covered by the Byrds in the 1960s. Years later, my own kids heard it in the soundtrack of the movie Forrest Gump.

This passage was comforting to me because it pointed out that there is balance in life: for every time to be born, there is a time to die, for every time to plant, there is a tie to harvest and then clear the fields for the next year, for every time of killing there is also a time of healing, and so on.

The gospel we hear today from Luke is one of those kinds of passages that can almost be that familiar. We just heard Luke’s version of “The Beatitudes.” The name comes from the first two words of each of these sayings in Latin, beati sunt, which means “Blessed are.” In the original language that Jesus spoke, however, they are in the same pattern as the very first verse of the Book of Psalms, which in some translations starts “Happy is the one who does not walk in the counsel of the ungodly.” The word for “blessed” and the word for “happy” is the same word.

So, if you had never actually read this passage, you might think that the Beatitudes are about happiness, right? About being blessed by God.

Not so fast.

While the specific things that are listed that makes one blessed are certainly counterintuitive. Note the conditions that Jesus says makes someone blessed: being poor, being hungry, weeping, being hated and treated hatefully on account of your faith, as we just heard.

Who here thinks any of those things, on the surface, sound like happiness?

Most of us would argue quite easily that being poor, or hungry, or sad, or the object of hate would be the exact opposite of being a condition of blessedness. Being in those categories sounds more to most of us like curses. No one want to be poor, or sad, or treated hatefully—not if they can help it, any way. And maybe you notice that, as in the passage I mentioned from Ecclesiastes, Luke provides us with some balance. Luke then follows the four blessings with four warnings for those who have the means to help others, yet turn away. To those who see the blessing of responsibility as a threat and a curse.

Jesus holds up those who are oppressed by poverty, sorrow, or oppression as having good things awaiting them, and he warns those who are in more favorable circumstances to use remember the mutuality and interconnection that binds the community together. The Beatitudes remind us that we have responsibilities to each other, and that those responsibilities are actually blessings.


November is Native American Heritage Month. Each day this month the diocese will be sharing daily posts celebrating and honoring Native culture, Native people, and Native history. The 505 will feature Native prayers and translations of scripture from across the Episcopal Church. While there is more than a little bit of irony that the month chosen to highlight Native American achievements would also be the month that contains Thanksgiving, there is also a certain harmony in that too, given the importance of gratitude and mutuality in Native ethics especially regarding the importance of community for the flourishing of life. Today is also the day we officially launch our annual giving campaign, which also focuses on the importance of gratitude for the gifts we have been given and strengthening our parish community for the flourishing of our shared life of faithfulness, fellowship, and service. And all these things are woven into our living out the Beatitudes in our lives, in striving to be saints of God.

In her book Braiding Sweetgrass, biologist, professor and member of the Citizen Pottawatomie Nation Robin Wall Kimmerer explains the connection between thankfulness and the strengthening of community:

Cultures of gratitude must also be cultures of reciprocity. Each person, human or no, is bound to every other in a reciprocal relationship. Just as all beings have a duty to me, I have a duty to them. If an animal gives its life to feed me, I am in turn bound to support its life. If I receive a stream’s gift of pure water, then I am responsible for returning a gift in kind. An integral part of a human’s education is to know those duties and how to perform them.... [D]uties and gifts are two sides of the same coin. Eagles were given the gift of far sight, so it is their duty to watch over us. Rain fulfills its duty as it falls, because it was given the gift of sustaining life. What is the duty of humans? If gifts and responsibilities are one, then asking “What is our responsibility?” is the same as asking “What is our gift?” (Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass, 115)


How life -changing would it be to think of our responsibilities as gifts? I remember how proud I was when I was growing up when I became old enough to be trusted to operate a lawn mower, or to babysit. Can you remember when a newborn baby or puppy or kitten was first placed in your arms? You KNEW that responsibility was a gift—how we embraced it and knew it for the privilege that was! Native wisdom aligns with Jesus’s teaching on the Beatitudes to insist that our special gift from God as humans made in God’s image is to embrace responsibility, service, and empathy rather than avoid them. To see the web of generosity that supports us, and to joyfully embrace our place as part of that web.

That is also the heart of stewardship. Our budget is about balance, too. Balance between our obligations and paying them yes. Balance between our expenses and our income. Balance between when we get from this community and how we support it to help it grow and witness. This too is a sacred balance. It is a balance that gives life, rather than takes. This responsibility, too is a GIFT.

A commitment to live lives of outstanding gratitude and generosity is woven into scripture—and into the lives of the saints we also celebrate today. They lived lives of abundant faithfulness and generosity—and if we don’t mean to be one too, as the song goes, then what are we doing here?

Too often our culture is predicated upon scarcity, and over and over again we hear a drumbeat warning us that we don’t have enough. That idea of scarcity makes everyone else a competitor in a mad scramble for power and wealth. But it is this simple: scarcity breeds fear, and fear strangles faith.

Let me say it again: Scarcity breeds fear, and fear strangles faith. And that is the reason why there are 366 reminders throughout scripture not to be afraid—one for every day of the year, and then another just because, in case we need it. Scarcity lures us to break the bonds of fellowship and deny the truth of our interdependence upon each other, upon this earth, upon God.


The culture of the Beatitudes is the culture of the Saints we celebrate today. As a matter of fact, the word for saint is right in there. “Beati”—is the beginning of the word “beatify” which means to recognize someone as a saint. And the entire point of this day is to remember that saints are NOT born, they are made.

Jesus isn’t trying to scare anyone into submission, ever. But Jesus does remind us to use the gifts we have been given for something greater than ourselves—for each other, and for the world. The Beatitudes encompass the greatest lesson in the lives of the saints, and that lesson is this: no matter what we have or don’t have, whether wealthy or poor, whether sinner or saint, we cannot depend upon our own resources to be blessed. It doesn’t work that way. The key to being truly blessed is to truly be a blessing—to acknowledge our reliance upon God, no matter what our situation. Happiness begins with acknowledging that God’s grace and mercy are not only necessary, but also real and present in our lives.

As for us, sitting here, as we remember saints of God, we remember people who, in ways small and great, were willing to be cursed, to go against the logic and the dominant culture around them, in order to testify to the God Jesus came to bring to flesh and bone before our eyes: the God who always takes interest in those who are humble in spirit, and yet filled with awe and wonder at the wonder of this God-infused creation of which we are a part. And saints are those who see with the eyes of Jesus the belovedness of everyone, regardless of any other condition.

Jesus calls us to discover within ourselves the same greatness of faithfulness and abundance that reflect God’s imprint in each of us. May we find blessing in the balance between responsibility and gratitude,  b between obligation and gift, for the flourishing of each other, and the wider world.

Preached at the 505 on November 5 and at the 10:30 am Holy Eucharist on November 6, 2022, at St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville, MO.

Readings:

Citations:
Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants (Minneapolis: Milkweed Editions, 2013), p, 115.


Sunday, May 17, 2020

Accompanied by Love: Sermon for the Sixth Sunday in Easter A


In 1939, an incredible cinematic masterpiece burst onto movie screens all over America and all over the world. It was called The Wizard of Oz. The story of a simple, orphaned Kansas farm girl named Dorothy who was taken up in an enormous tornado to a land beyond the rainbow enchanted millions. And those millions needed to be enchanted. The entire world was in the grip of the Great Depression. The evils of totalitarianism, militarism, and fascism were sharpening their fangs and claws over much of Europe and Asia.

Transported from her dull gray world to a land of vibrant hues of yellow, red, and green, all Dorothy wanted was to go home—to her familiar life, even if it had been filled with hardship and misunderstanding. It was a longing that resonated with everyone whose lives had been changed by the worldwide economic downturn. Dorothy was Everyone. The story of her adventure offered hope for those suffering under the challenges and trials of that time.

There was promise embedded in this fanciful story. Even as Dorothy longed for home, she also kept and gained friends who accompanied her on her quest to find the person who supposedly had the power to return her to her home. Her little dog represented loyalty. The tin man, the lion, and the scarecrow represented wisdom, courage in the face of fear, and compassion. And they walked alongside her, loyally being willing to lay down their very lives to protect her from danger. Along the way, they defeated a malevolent presence, the wicked witch, and her minions.


Yet what they learned in the end was the most powerful magic of all. Dorothy learned that her power to return home resided within herself all along—she just needed to be strengthened and supported as she embraced her own abilities. She found out she had advocates and companions who championed her when she needed it most. And when she did return home, home seemed more loving and beautiful than she had previously imagined. But it wasn’t that home had changed. It was that Dorothy had been changed—changed by assurance of the steadfast love and companionship of her friends along the way.

Today in our gospel, Jesus too realizes that his disciples are afraid they will be orphaned, abandoned, unable to find their way home. And Jesus offers his followers the assurance that they too, will have an abiding advocate to remain with them always and to lead them to new knowledge about themselves and their abilities to see the world through eyes of hope. That advocate would be a teacher, a comforter, a companion. We know that advocate as the Holy Spirit.

Many of us have a sort of misunderstanding and even possibly aversion to the Holy Spirit. I know I did, growing up in Oklahoma, especially after my mom took me to some charismatic churches. A charismatic church is one that professes to invite speaking in tongues, prophecy, and other so called spiritual gifts. I know that this kind of worship is uplifting for many people. But as a small child, having a lot of adults all around me shouting, screaming, and dropping to the floor in a faint absolutely terrified me. I thought about those “tongues of fire” over the disciples’ heads in the Pentecost scene from Acts, and said a quick “No thank you” to God when it came to the Holy Spirit, at least. And so I spent a large part of my youth afraid of the Holy Spirit, mistakenly believing that the Holy Spirit’s work within a person was more like a possession or invasion and less like cooperation, a sparking of potential, and teaching.

In other words, I wonder if too often we have equated the Holy Spirit with the tornado that carries Dorothy away from all that she knows and loves. Instead, we need to see the Holy Spirit as being like Dorothy's companions on the yellow brick road: loyalty, wisdom, courage, and compassion.


Because that is exactly what Jesus is promising here. And the use of the word “Paraclete” is helpful, for its English translations are gentler, and comforting: Advocate. Comforter. Helper. This holy presence will remain and sustain us after Jesus’s ascension. The gift of the Holy Spirit in our lives reminds us that there is more to Easter than just the empty tomb. That resurrection isn’t just a moment in time but an ongoing reality and promise to us as Christians that eternal life is rooted in the present, not some distant future. And it is always, ALWAYS rooted in love. Love as an action and a force of life, not as a mere emotion.

As noted in the very first verse in our gospel today, Jesus links love and obedience to commandments together; love is the mark of obedience and discipleship. As Galatians 5:22-23 reminds us, the gifts of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control. The presence of any of these characteristics can be seen as a sign that the spirit of God is present and active in a person or a place. Symbols used in the Bible to depict the Holy Spirit include wind, flame, a dove, pillars of clouds and fire, and, in 1 Kings 19: 12 a “still small voice.”

In fact, that reminder is important. Too often, we think of the flames bursting out over all the disciples’ heads at Pentecost, and of the Spirit seizing control of someone and possessing them, like when we’ve seen depictions of people speaking in tongues. And so we fear the Holy Spirit—its power, its unpredictability from images like those.

But the gifts of the Spirit are all gifts that comfort rather than frighten or threaten a loss of control and independence. These are gifts which call us even deeper into ourselves, so that we may be empowered to continued Jesus’s work in the world. It is the Spirit that empowers Paul to give his great sermon at Athens that we heard in our first reading. It is the Spirit that gives him the wisdom to appeal to them not through castigating them or trying to frighten them. Paul knows he is in the center of learning and reason in the entire known world.

We have a lot in common with those Greeks. We worship all kinds of things— power, money, beauty, youth, celebrity being the most common in our culture. We see each one of these things as a highly desirable commodity, often one we are willing to risk our very lives or souls to obtain, when really they are a responsibility. And frankly that is our greatest challenge in this time of pandemic. We are hearing too much about people proclaiming, angrily and sometimes violently, their rights. And yet each right comes with an equally compelling responsibility—otherwise, chaos and destruction ensue. 

How can we recover the sense of community necessary for our mutual flourishing in this time of pandemic? What if we circled back to those gifts of the spirit again? 

What if we resolves to be motivated not by anger, ignorance, and self-defeating self-interest, but instead by

Love
Joy
Peace
Patience
Kindness
Goodness
Faithfulness
Gentleness
Self-control

Think of those gifts as filters and checks on the selfishness of those who insist in their rights regardless of the impact those rights have on others. We must meet the challenges of this time not with fear, resentment, anger, or lashing out. Instead, imagine how our world could change, even beyond the challenge of this pandemic, if instead, we rooted all our actions in love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control.

We have an opportunity right now to examine the parts of our lives before this pandemic that didn’t work, and dedicate ourselves to making our society better. Times of upheaval can be times of blessing if we use them to critically examine places where we were told we had to accept the inequalities and injustices of the times in which we lived as the cost for our own comfort. And that is okay to some people so long as it is other people who are suffering. But Jesus calls us to stand for true justice and peace for all. Jesus calls us to be an advocate for those who have no voice.

That’s why “Paraclete” may be a good synonym for us to get used to using when we talk about the Holy Spirit. The literal meaning of Paraclete is itself comforting—para means “alongside” and kaletos mean “to call.” In other words, the Paraclete is a tangible reminder of a leader who walks alongside us in empathy, in support, in sharing all our burdens—and who strengthens us to be able to be advocates and strengtheners for others, too. The leadership exhibited by Jesus and reinforced by the Holy Spirit is non-hierarchical. It’s balanced and compassionate. When have we ever needed such a model more than in a time such as this?


Jesus promises us an Advocate in the Paraclete—but other meanings of the word include Counselor or Helper. In the other mentions of the Paraclete in the Farewell Discourse, Jesus further defines the functions of the Holy Spirit to include teaching, reminding, abiding, and testifying to the truth of Jesus. The Paraclete is also not the property of an individual, but is sent to continue creating community. This is why the Church is mentioned in the section of the Nicene Creed that deals with the Holy Spirit.

God knows, many of us wouldn’t turn down the offer of an advocate to promote our cause, especially in times such as this. And to make sure we feel comfortable with the advocacy being offered, we are reminded that the Holy Spirit is ANOTHER Advocate to abide with us—the first Advocate is Jesus.

In our gospel today, one of the most touching things Jesus says about the Spirit is that she is sent to us so that we would not imagine ourselves abandoned, or more pointedly, as orphans. Any of us and those around us are struggling with that feeling right now. Those are important words for those of us living 2000 years after Jesus’s physical and historical life ended even in the best of times—and this time of uncertainty and fear only strengthens our tendency to lose faith in the love of God when times are in crisis. The Spirit is a powerful way we experience God’s presence, especially in times of turmoil or uncertainty—in other words, right now in the midst of this ongoing pandemic.

Jesus’s words in our gospel today speak to us precious comfort as we, just like those disciples, hang suspended between real and imagined and dreaded losses. That’s why we need to hear that God is always accompanying us—especially in times of fear and anxiety. We need to remember that Jesus is God’s way, truth, and life, as we heard proclaimed last week—especially in this time when some people profit off of truth-denial and fear-mongering. Instead, the Holy Spirit gives her powerful witness to a leadership model that does not seek to enforce the leader’s will, but walks alongside others in love, compassion, and empathy.

This is a time for us to call the Holy Spirit alongside us and lead us into wisdom, courage, and compassion. Not just for our own sakes, but for the sake of each and every person whose life we may inadvertently touch. In welcoming the life-giving power of the Spirit into our lives, we, like Dorothy, can be empowered to fight the forces of fear and greed that endanger all of us, and instead be empowered and encouraged to walk alongside each other—especially those who are vulnerable. 

Come, Holy Spirit. Strengthen us to be people who joyfully bear each other’s burdens, and who proclaim the comfort of truth in the name of love. United in love, we know you can lead us all home.

Amen. 

Preached at the 10:30 service broadcast online on Facebook Live from St. Martin's Church, May 17, 2020.

Readings:
Acts 17:22-31
Psalm 66:7-18
1 Peter 3:13-22
John 14:15-21


Monday, May 4, 2020

Prayer 2654: For Living into the Commandment of Love


Loving Creator,
the gift of this day lies before us:
may we use it to your glory,
and in the name of compassion and charity.

Lord Jesus, grant us wisdom:
may we let your transformative gospel
take hold of our hearts
and reign within our souls.

May we never insist upon our own way,
remembering the love you call us to live out
by gentleness, compassion, and consideration.

May we exercise restraint
in the name of the neighbors we will never meet,
those who are vulnerable
especially in their health or their livelihoods,
and act out of love for the overlooked and the unsheltered,
the exposed and the medically fragile.

May we respect and protect
the dignity and worth of every life,
not merely our own,
but see each face around us
as beloved and treasured by you, O God,
and work for the generosity and shalom
that you call us to practice as your children.

Strengthen us in gratitude and grace, O Holy One,
and make us emblems of mercy and hope,
drawing all to You, O Lord of Life.

Spirit of Life, set our minds and hearts ablaze
with the light of faithfulness and truth.
Grant your blessing, O Holy Trinity,
on all for whom we pray.

Amen.