Spiritual Freedom: Doing More With Less With Greater Joy

St. Francis Church, Fair Oaks, Sunday September 16, 2012

Text: Mark 8:27-38

Spirit of the Living God Fall Fresh On Me! Congregation Repeats.

Jesus tells his followers if any want to be my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.

Deny yourselves! 

I don’t know about you, but I am not very fond of self-denial.  For most people life is hard enough without voluntarily giving things up.  Growing up working-class, my dad always said, “We don’t have to give anything up because we have got nothing anyway to give up.”  In a different way you may resonate with these sentiments.  You all experienced so many losses these last few years of members and of a rector.  I have so much empathy for you.  It is time for the people of St. Francis Church to have joy, peace and abundant gifts.

So does self-denial have any meaning for this congregation at this time?

I believe self-denial has a very important role in bringing you greater joy.  First, we have to rehabilitate our notion of self-denial.  Many forms of self-denial lead us to following Jesus as a spectator sport.  Many forms of self-denial turn us in on ourselves as we give up things or abstain from something.  Our self-denial often takes energy and sometimes leaves us exhausted.  Jesus has taught that his yoke is easy and his burden is light.  We too often have interpreted self-denial as self-mortification, purification and the work of self-cleansing leading to greater perfection.

The self-denial that Mark emphasizes through Jesus’ words and teaching is a posture that fosters in us a very specific way and manner of being and action. The self-denial that Jesus invites us to participate in is a way that we might be spiritually free.  Jesus’ path always leads from the cross to resurrection. 

When we deny ourselves in healthy ways, we lighten the spiritual baggage that we carry. When we are spiritually free we are not burdened or distracted with our unhealthy desires. We see God’s desires in God’s time. 

Spiritual freedom opens us up to new possibilities and liberates us from our self-imposed burdens, if you will our self-imposed crosses.

For my college graduation in 1978, Bill, my eldest brother took me to Rome, Italy and Dublin, Ireland for a two-week trip.  It was my first trip out of the country.  Bill was an experienced traveler.  Even if he went away for a month he only carried one very small bag with a few changes of clothes that he constantly washed.  I on the other hand packed a reasonably big bag. Our trip was before the days of wheels on bags.  We were on our last day in Rome.  We had checked out of our hotel with our bags and spent the day touring.  My bag was heavy.  At one point I said to Bill, my bag is heavy, will you help me carry it?  Bill, said to me, “you packed it, you carry it”. 

At the time I was a little frustrated with my brother.  Bill, knew it and said to me, you will be able to travel far in life if you manage your needs, desires and travel lightly.  On that last day I was not able to walk around as much as my brother Bill.  It is human to carry more than we need.  Too often we confuse our needs with our desires.  Desires evolve into must have and we lose clarity to our basic needs.  The more we need the less physical and spiritual distance we are able to travel. Lightening our spiritual load is more of a challenge.

The focus of spiritually mature congregations is always on growing their relationship with Christ in community through worship, ministry and fellowship.

Are you familiar with the activities of the Diocese of Northern California? As members of the diocese, we are:

Focused on mission.

Seek to stay together.

Keep moving forward in the name of Christ.

The activities of the Diocese are my desires for St. Francis Church too.

I want to help you focus and reflect on your future mission in ways that responsibly use the resource of your campus so that you may continue your journey in this place. In doing so fellowship that grows your staying together is vital.  It is also vital to keep moving forward in the name of Christ.  One way to move forward with revitalized mission and the privilege to stay together is through spiritual freedom.

Don’t confuse spiritual freedom with the popular psychological notion of letting go.  It is possible to let go and still not be spiritually free.  Letting go requires our human intention.  After that trip to Rome with my brother I quickly learned to pack less and live out of one small bag on my future trips. 

Spiritual freedom requires a shift in what we choose to rely upon and from where we draw our strength.  When we self deny in healthy ways we travel more lightly so that we do not load up our spiritual trucks with lots of unnecessary stuff.  We travel lightly.  To follow Jesus congregations have to travel lightly.

How does St. Francis Church become spiritually free so that its mission for a new generation will be discovered anew?

The first step is to lighten your baggage.  When congregations lose many members as St. Francis Church has over the last decade those who are left often feel an enormous sense of responsibility.  Indeed their/your sense of responsibility is unrealistic.  When people leave churches, those who remain with the church tend to give more and more to make every effort for ends to meet.  Often this process of generous giving of more time and more money exhausts and depletes congregations of all their spiritual and physical energy.  When congregations deplete their energy they are less likely to hear the still voice of the Spirit of God leading them to new forms of wholeness.

I would like to suggest that self-denial for St. Francis Church in this time and in this place is about each of you taking on less.  And feeling better about yourselves as you let go of some things.  It would mean looking for ways to do more with less.  Sometimes it is necessary to find a smaller bag or take a few less things on the journey.  When we do choose to travel more lightly we are amazed by the places we are able to go. 

Empty nesters know this experience.  When all the children leave the home for college and leave to get married, parents often down size because they want to be free to travel lighter.  By carrying less they can do things they never did before.  Money once spent on healthcare and education can now be spent on a special trip.  It may mean just sleeping later for some living more freely without a daily agenda.

I invite each of you to lighten your load and take on a little less individually and collectively.  To borrow from Paul, as we become less, then Christ will become more.  As Christ becomes more we will discover some new pathways through the Spirit’s direction versus our limited capacity to just do more and more. It is a paradox.  As we do less and take better care of ourselves we will be capable of more.  We will see more possibilities.

I am giving you permission to take care of yourselves and of each other.  You don’t need my permission, but sometimes it is helpful to have another person cover us in our blind spots.  We need the most care from each other in our blind spots.  When congregations keep on taking more with fewer people they are operating out of their blind spots. 

In our blind spots we do as we typically do, but the results are not always pleasant.  When we are driving if we do not see oncoming traffic in our blind spots there is great potential for an accident.  Our blind spots create different kinds of accidents where our spiritual energy and capacity is depleted.  Through healthy spiritual denial we grow in our spiritual freedom and diminish our blind spots.

The good news today is that we have the privilege to self deny and so grow into deeper joy through our spiritual freedom.  Only then are we able to take on our ministerial responsibilities and the mission to which we are called.  Jesus was called to carry his cross, as this was his mission.  We will in time know our cross that is our mission.  The first step in picking up our cross is to deny ourselves in this healthy way of doing less.

Spirit of God Lead Us Towards Your Feast

St. Francis Church, Fair Oaks, California, Sunday September 9, 2012

Spirit of the Living God Fall Fresh On Me!  Congregation Repeated with me!

The opening words of today’s collect -- “Grant us, O Lord, to trust in you with all our hearts” simply and eloquently sets forth my vision for the way I will co-minister with you and lead this congregation as your Priest-in-Charge.  Today I want to share with you a few reflections on my role at St. Francis and the way some of my life experiences have prepared me to be with you on your journey at this time in your parish’s history.  Over the next 4-5 weeks I will continue to preach about the journey we are beginning. 

A Priest-in-Charge has all the canonical authority of a rector, but unlike a rector, the Priest-in-Charge position is not a tenured one.  Rectors often stay with congregations for 20-30 years. The Priest-in-Charge is typically with a congregation for a period of 3 years renewable at the end of each year.  Our time is precious!

As Priest-in-Charge it is my desire to shepherd you into your next generation of ministry and mission in The Episcopal Church. In all I do, I will put a spotlight on your distinctive parish identity and on resurrection, Christ’s resurrection and the resurrection of St. Francis Church. The unique gift that I bring to you the people of St. Francis Church is to continually point you towards resurrection. 

Yesterday 75+ people came here to celebrate the life of Moton Bryant Holt.  I preached my first sermon yesterday.  My sermon was on resurrection.  I preached that due to our faith in the resurrection death is transformed.  Some deaths are final.  We all will experience one day the end of our life in death.  Other deaths are a part of our spiritual journey.  A little piece of us dies when we lose somebody we love.  Over and over throughout life we die little deaths that helps us experience resurrection.  

To journey towards resurrection, in the next couple of years we need to steward our time together.  Let’s take a few minutes to reflect on the nature and quality of our specific shared journey that we are beginning with one another.

You have just made an extraordinary journey that not many congregations ever have to face.  You lost Pastor Marcia, your rector.  Several of you have already shared with me that the ministry Pastor Marcia offered to St. Francis Church, led this congregation to a place where you were equipped with the spiritual gifts to grieve her loss.  In this last year you held together in unity as a parish.  You compassionately ministered to one another. 

There is abundant reason for celebration and joy to have come through this year as whole as you have done so.  There is a sense of relief I am sure that you all feel to have completed the journey so well. 

(Take a deep breath)  Let’s celebrate where you have come from.

The Good News is that your spiritual journey has matured you as a congregation.   God however is not done with you or with this congregation or with this church. 

Vacation-like journeys have a beginning and an end.  Spiritual journeys have no end.  Spiritual journeys deepen our connection to God and to one another.  In our spiritual journeys we enter places of greater intimacy with God.  It is through our spiritual journeys that God matures us to become the one we are called to be. 

The one we are called to be is often not the one we planned ourselves to be.  We influence some of the parts of the way we live our life as people and as communities, but God always has surprises for us. When we are willing to trust, God always leads us to places we did not expect to go and sometimes even initially resisted going.  When we follow Jesus we like the disciples at Emmaus always discover Christ resurrected.

Our spiritual journeys are unlike all other journeys that we take. 

My journeys as a kid were always short ones. As a kid I always knew where I was going before I got there. I did not go far, but I knew where I was going before I got there!

Now I think of journey very differently than I did as a kid. The way I thought about journey began to change when I left the Jesuits, the Society of Jesus.  I left the Jesuits with my heart torn between staying and leaving the Society. 

My head told me to stay but the Spirit told me to leave.  As I sat waiting outside my Jesuit superior’s office to sign my papers that would release me from my vows, a priest friend passed by and comforted me. I told my friend that I intended to return to the Society in a year or two.  My friend, a more spiritually mature Jesuit priest, smiled at me and said, “the Spirit has led you to leave the Society of Jesus, Joe, trust the Spirit to lead you and do not turn back unless the Spirit leads you back to the Society.” 

Oh how much I wanted to set the terms of my journey as I left the Jesuits, but I could not.  My life questions required my generous patience and complete trust in the Spirit of God to lead me through a life maze that has led me to many unexpected, grace-filled places on the journey. I had to submit my will and take time to discover God’s hand and direction for my life. I learned to be patient with all that was unresolved in my heart and to love the questions.  That statement I just made has a lived value of 10-15 years of life.  I struggled to give up my hasty, self-willed answers and to cease to manufacture my answers in God’s name. 

All too often I was like the little boy who could not wait for the caterpillar to become a butterfly. The little boy breathed warm air on the caterpillar so that it would quickly become a butterfly.  Indeed, the butterfly soared at the boy’s command. The boy was all a glow with smiles for his achievement.  Then the butterfly crashed to the floor, unable to move its wings and no longer living.  The gestation period from caterpillar to butterfly is typically ten days.  When we are patient with God’s process then we have the privilege to see the glory of God. 

Many times throughout my spiritual journey I was that little boy who hastily breathed warm air on the caterpillar to bring about my desired beautiful butterfly in my time, on my terms and under my power and control.  After several similar tragic errors of judgments I learned to let go.  I learned to patiently live into God’s timing.  I learned to live my questions rather than try to hastily solve my questions.  As I did this I gradually, without noticing it, I lived into who I am today. My journey is not unique. 

St. Francis Church is on a similar spiritual journey. You may be tempted to quickly breathe warm air on the caterpillars in our midst to feed a desire to immediately see a beautiful butterfly fly.  You know better though. You have traveled far and well over the last year. I encourage you to take your time as a congregation and to continue to go deeper.  As we go deeper in our lives and rely more on God and less on ourselves we will be ready to dream more daring dreams with the Spirit who leads us in new and unexpected ways.

St. Francis Church is a mature congregation of fifty plus years.  Your maturity has evolved through your struggles. The Spirit will continue to call you to places that you have not been before.  St. Francis Church is half the size of the congregation it was five years ago.  Loss of membership has not separated you from the love of God or the abundance of God’s grace and blessing.  St. Francis Church continues its spiritual journey as all its members continue to discover new depths of individual and collective meaning with all its associated new and yet unknown possibilities. 

I am here to remind you that as we walk forward into an unknown future, that God is all around us, especially ahead of us. Due to the spiritual journey that I have made in my life I am prepared to be with you on your journey. With you I will listen for the Spirit’s direction manifested in the resources and gifts that are in your hands today. My promise to you is to point each of you in directions where you are more likely to encounter the resurrected Jesus. 

I pray that we let God lead St. Francis Church to the feast God is preparing for you.  I am confident that God has uniquely prepared a very special place for the people of St. Francis Church.  The place God prepares for all of us is always a feast of heavenly and earthly delights.

To witness the glory of God’s feast requires patience with God’s time.

Resist my temptation to return to what was.

Resist the little boy’s urgency to see glory.

Resist seeing St. Francis Church’s best years in the past.

Celebrate your history, but walk with me as we anticipate the future that God is leading us towards.  The Spirit of God will lead us.

As we begin this shared journey together, O Lord, increase our trust in you so that we as a congregation may be ready to sit at your table, in your time, and joyously accept the feast you have prepared for us.

Is Jesus Your Healing Handyman?

Preached sermon at Trinity Church, Reno, Nevada on Sunday, July 1, 2012
 

The last words of the Gospel today, Jesus basically says, don’t tell anybody what I have just done.  Frankly, I think he is little disturbed!  If he’s expected to heal everybody, he would be a pretty busy guy.  The elders and his disciples set him up as your neighborhood handyman for all healings! 

Jesus realizes if word gets out that he will be so busy healing that he will have no time to preach and teach his message of God’s love.  The healings are great!  Who does not enjoy a good healing?  Jesus knows however, that it is God’s message of love that will change the world and be sustainable for all times.

To go deeper and understand love on Jesus’ terms we have to explore the nature of healing in today’s Gospel.  In one reading of the Gospel the young woman was healed due to the elders trust in Jesus. However, their trust is established similar to a handyman’s contract for services. They go to Jesus because he will get the healing job done right like nobody else does! 

In another reading, the daughter was healed due to her trust provoked by her love of Jesus.  The elder’s trust and the daughter’s love are very different ways of encountering Jesus.  I will acknowledge that it is a subtle difference, but the difference is profound and necessary for all of us to grasp. In both healing approaches Jesus heals the woman.  The message is not about the healing as healing, but who asked for the healing and out of what kind of relationship with Jesus is the healing requested.

Keep these principles in mind as I share with you a modern day story of healing.  The story I am about to share with you is a story about a young man who had no fear. Peter was in a severe motorcycle accident that put this young 18-year old man in the Intensive Care Unit.  It was Peter’s birthday and his successful older brother gave him a motorcycle as a birthday gift. 

Peter took his new bike out for a spin around the neighborhood.  He drove up and down his neighborhood street and was very excited.  All was fine, but then later that night he decided to go beyond his local neighborhood and went riding further afar.  Peter sped around the city on his new bike. 

Apparently unaware in his youthful innocence Peter drove down a major urban city street famous for its potholes.  Peter sped down this street. Between Peter’s speed and the street’s bumps, at one point he was launched twenty feet into the air and hit the ground landing on his head.  He suffered severe and massive head trauma.  It was a miracle that he did not die instantly at the scene of the accident.

Peter lay in his trauma bed for weeks without any physical movement. In the first few days he was not expected to make it. Throughout Peter’s stay in intensive care his family surrounded him.  Peter’s mom and dad never left his side but for some sleep.  One or the other of his family was with him at all times.  The family was very religious.  There were statues and rosaries everywhere in Peter’s room.  His family prayed for him constantly and they talked to him every day, all day even though they had no idea if he could hear or understand a single word. 

The courage, persistence of faith and stamina of Peter’s family constantly amazed me.  One day at early morning trauma rounds I heard the first good news in weeks about Peter.  The doctors were seeing some hopeful signs of brain activity.  Later that week Peter opened his eyes.  A few days later he acknowledged family with his eyes.  A week later he was saying a few words, but they did not make any sense and the doctors were not sure how much he understood. 

The doctors decided to get him going on physical therapy.  Over a period of two weeks I saw Peter go from standing shaking at the foot of his bed to walking his first steps.  Then a few days later I saw him walking with a walker with his family and nurses at his side.  A week later he was released after 6 weeks of intensive treatment!  Now he was on the rehabilitation unit as he continued his two periods of intensive physical therapy every day. He was on the rehabilitation unit for about a week when he was transferred to a leading rehabilitation facility. 

I was fortunate to be on the rehabilitation unit just as Peter was walking to the elevator assisted by his therapist and nurse as he made his way to the ambulance.  I wished him well and congratulated him on his amazing recovery.  Later that day I saw the physical therapist and asked “how did Peter go from death to never walking again to walking?” The therapist said that most people who suffered Peter’s trauma never even survive. 

The therapist said Peter was determined to walk.  He and his family put all of their efforts into his recovery. The therapist said recovery often comes down to self-will.  She said stronger bodied men and women fail because they lack determination. She also said an 18 year old man with pure will has a better chance than a 40 year old man with no will.  She also told me that this was the second major trauma that Peter had experienced in two years.  Both were accidents that could have been prevented with a bit more judgment.

Some patients even with comparable or greater determination and self-will cannot be saved due to the severity of their injuries.  For every story like Peter’s I saw many more patients die torturous deaths. In some situations patients were in an irreversible decline and they had no choice but to passively wait for the hour of their passing.

Peter and his family were very grateful for his healing, just as the elders were in today’s Gospel.  Was Peter like the elders today who wanted Jesus to be their healing handyman or was he like the daughter whose love and self-determination led to her healing? I am not sure, but Peter’s story and the Gospel story raise good questions and enough reasonable doubt to justify our further exploration and reflection.

The Gospel introduces us to two ways that we encounter Jesus.  In one account Jesus is our handyman to get us out of every bind with his magical healing.  In another account the young woman is cured by her love of Jesus and her own self-determination.  For the elders Jesus is the handyman on contract.  The young woman has covenantal love. Covenant might be a new word for you.  Covenant is not a new Christian word. 

Covenant was the way God talked about God’s relationship with humanity throughout the Old Testament.  In Jeremiah, God describes the new covenant where God places God law of love within us.  The daughter touches Jesus’ garment out of her faith and deep love for Jesus. When we do not learn about this distinctive covenant that God has made with us then we risk our impulsive reliance on contracts. Our default like the elders in today’s Gospel is to expect God to act in the precise ways we expect God to be. Our Christian theology is not based on “if I do this, I expect you God to do this.”  

We embrace the new covenant that God outlines for humanity in the Old Testament in the church’s baptismal covenant.  In Baptism we enter a relationship with God. The covenant is a relational space that is flexible as our life changes, even and most importantly when it suddenly changes.  The covenant flexes with unexpected changes. Contracts on the other hand, predict all behaviors with exacting expectations for specific results. 

Most of our lives are too complex for spiritual contracts with God. Our life and even the miraculous potential of Jesus’ healing love are exhausted and trivialized by our contractual expectations.  The fullness of God’s healing love is only experienced through the covenantal love of the daughter in today’s Gospel.  It is love that is faithful without precise expectations.

Healings were never predictable in the intensive care unit.  Doctors were often surprised as much by treatments that worked as those that did not work.  Was Peter healed because of his family’s faith or his youthful self-determination?  We really do not know.  One does learn in trauma chaplaincy to live with very few precise expectations of God.  One also welcomes the unexpected. People and God in trauma units are malleable, that is open and flexible to a range of possibilities but never demanding of one specific outcome. 

We are each called to live and love through covenantal style relationships with each other and with God. The Good News today is that God does not bind us up in closed ended contracts that provides no room for the changes that interrupts and sometimes disrupts all the long-term plans we have dutifully made concerning our lives. Nor in covenantal love are we able to bind God to our precise, desired outcomes.  I have found that my deepest, most spiritually mature relationships act out of covenants not contracts.

In the Holy Communion we are about to receive we are like the daughter in today’s Gospel who touched the garment of Jesus and was healed by her faith. As we receive Holy Communion today let the healing touch of Christ be the precious oil that deeply heals us in our diverse needs.

Be Still, Be At Peace!

Sermon preached at St. John's in The Wilderness, Glenbrook, Nevada on Sunday, June 24, 2012

I see significant overlaps between coronary heart disease and spiritual heart disease.  In coronary heart disease, the arteries of the heart get narrower as they become clogged with plaque.  As the arteries become narrow it is increasingly more difficult for blood to flow to the heart. When the heart is desperately short of blood to pump, the heart constricts and often produces a heart attack. 

The arteries to our spiritual heart also get clogged with a different kind of plaque that constricts our relationship and full compassion with and for others. The arteries to the spiritual heart often are clogged with fear. The disciples in the Gospel today experience spiritual heart disease while Jesus’ heart is unclogged and available to be present to the anxious disciples.

Have you ever been in conditions that felt dangerous but you learned later that they only felt dangerous?  Our feelings do not always equate with our reality. Our ability to discern reality becomes spiritually unreliable the more fear we carry in our hearts.

In the Gospel Jesus calms the raging waters for the disciples. Often this text is read as a miracle story of Jesus calming the waters of the sea. There is another way to understand today’s Gospel that provides us with spiritual sustenance for our daily lives. Jesus and the disciples are in the same boat, but they encounter the sea very differently. Jesus is calm. The disciples are terrified.  

I want to look at our diseased spiritual hearts when they are clogged with the disciples’ fear. When our human heart is out of control the body shuts down and has a heart attack.  When our spiritual heart is out of control, our capacity for compassion shuts down.  We are less likely to see with clarity the needs of people in their suffering.  With a lack of clarity we are of little help.

For the last eight months prior to coming to St. John’s Glenbrook I was working in North Philadelphia as a hospital chaplain at a level 1 trauma center.  In North Philadelphia each month there are 30 homicides coupled with numerous stabbings and other forms of violence that leave people dead or suffering torturous deaths. 

I lived in Center Philadelphia and commuted every day by subway to North Philadelphia.  In the first few months of my chaplaincy I was terrified coming and going from work on the subway. My fear constricted my spiritual heart and as a chaplain I was ineffective in situations of severe trauma. With each trauma I encountered my spiritual heart became more clogged and I became less available, less compassionate.

My inner heart came to a place of calm when I realized that my fears were greater than the risks of my reality.  A year ago a doctor was driving to work and was hit by a stray bullet.  Almost once a week people walking the neighborhood near the hospital were shot by a stray bullet and sometimes died.  These were real situations, but they were the exceptions.  Ten thousand people came to the medical center campus every day and they were safe.  Over the months to follow I became less anxious. In the midst of this North Philadelphia violent context I found an inner peace.

As I came to peace my inner clarity sharpened and I was better able to discern the families of my trauma patient’s emotions and needs. I knew when their rage at patient losses even their deaths was on the verge of violence and when their loud expressions were just routine grief.  As my spiritual heart became less clogged with fear I was able to see, hear and feel the pain of my patients in ways that allowed me to be more fully present to them. 

One night I was on-call I was called to the ER.  A young 17 year old African American boy returning home from his high school was shot multiple times.  He was brought to the ER and the docs worked on him for 30 minutes but they could not save him.  In the meantime over 30+ family members had gathered at the hospital.  That night a young, white medical resident had just rotated on to the ER service from another medical service.  It would be the first night that this young doctor would tell any parents that their young son, their baby had been killed.  I was called to the ER to accompany the doctor when she went to give the parents and family the news.

As we entered the family meeting room, the doctor without any preparation of the parents bluntly told them, “I am sorry your son did not make it.  He is dead!”  The mother upon hearing the news went into shock and fell to the floor.  The father uncontrollably wept. Some family members stormed out of the room. A few started to hit tables.  Some threw a couple of chairs and waste paper baskets across the room. 

The doctor looked at me and said, “Well do something about this”.  I said there is nothing to be done right now.  They are expressing their grief.  The inner waters of their hearts like the disciples had unsettled them and disrupted their life. Again, the doctor angrily said to me, “Well if you are not going to do anything, I will.”  She attempted to shame me, but I remained peaceful.  In a loud voice in ways that she attempted to speak over the family’s rage she said, “your behavior is unacceptable.  This is a hospital.  We have other sick people here and you must be quiet.” 

As soon as the family heard these words they became more enraged.  They chastised the young doctor as heartless, uncompassionate and yes racist.  The doctor was terrified at their response.  She experienced their inner rage as an imminent danger to her and others.  It was raging grief like the to believed raging sea in today’s Gospel.  I told the doctor to leave, but she refused. Once more she attempted to calm them down with her stern voice.  Then the family was even angrier.  Finally, I said to the doctor, “please leave now, I will come for you if they need you.”  She stormed away and was clearly angry at me.

I sat down outside the family meeting room.  The meeting room door had a window so the family could see me and I could see them.  I assumed a prayerful position.  I went to a deep place in me and spiritually communicated without words peace to those in the room.  In a few minutes all in the room were sitting peacefully.  They were still weeping, but now they were holding each other. 

Over the next 15 minutes I just sat and prayed.  One man, an older brother of the boy who had just died came out of the room to use the restroom.  Before he returned to the gathered family, I got up and said to him, “When you think it might be the right time, I would like to say a few words to your family.”  He went in told the family. I was immediately invited in to visit with them.

I immediately told them that my heart was broken for the loss that they had suffered.  I said to them, “this room is yours for as long as you need it tonight.  As you may have noticed I am sitting just outside. I am here if you need me.  I have some information that I need to share with you.  It is very painful news for me to share. Since your son is a victim of homicide, the state of Pennsylvania Medical Examiner will not let you see your son’s body until their investigation has been complete.  Not only have you lost your son, but you cannot see him.” 

I said these words with tears in my eyes.  A few family members asked for clarification and I calmly said, “yes you heard me right”.  I hurt with you and I am praying for you this night.  Use this room as long as you wish”.  I left quietly.

I went back outside and assumed my prayerful position.  The room was silent for over twenty minutes.  Then the family meeting room door opened and all the family walked out one by one in silence.  The father was the last and he hugged me and thanked me for my ministry.  I returned to the ER desk where I saw the doctor and she asked what happened, what did you do?  I gave them the space to grieve on their terms.

Like the disciples we have all been unsettled in different ways. Perhaps you felt the fear I felt riding the subway.  Maybe at one time you have been like the young doctor trying to control the family’s emotions.  We have all felt some sense of the grieving family’s emotion.  In these times Jesus is there to say to us, “be still, peace be with you.”

On this my last Sunday with you as your June supply priest, I pray for each of you that you may experience deep inner calm as members of St. John’s and as a congregation. You will know that you are deeply peaceful when you are undisturbed by the trials that you encounter and place your total trust in the Spirit of God.  Sometimes our hearts are open and we live like Jesus and sometimes our hearts are clogged with fear and we are like the anxious disciples. The good news is that Jesus is present in both the stormy and calm waters of our lives. Our single purpose is to be less anxious and to follow Jesus’ compassionate model.

Mustard Seed Ministries: Tiny Christ-like Acts

Sermon preached at St. John's Glenbrook, Nevada, Sunday, June 17, 2012

Jesus is not trying to make a botanical statement of fact when he said the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed.  He is using proverbial and metaphorical language common in the parables of the New Testament.  When we hear Jesus say the mustard seed is like, I underscore like, we know he is trying to make a point but not a fact.  The Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed that is small and becomes something much bigger then we would expect.  Today I want to reflect on the way we are mustard seeds that build up the earthly kingdom of God.

Let’s begin with evaluation of the success of God’s kingdom on earth.  In a recent report by The Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life it was reported that the number of Christians has quadrupled in the last 100 years from about 600 million in 1910 to 2 billion. The major shift that has taken place is from Europe and the Americas being the center of Christianity in 1910 to Africa and Asia now as the center.  Though Christianity began in the Middle East and North Africa, today that region has the lowest concentration of Christians.  90% of Christians live in countries where Christians are in the majority. Only about 10% of Christians worldwide live as minorities.  The Kingdom of God has grown far and wide with proportionality changes along the way.

With the Pew Forum’s statistical analysis we are easily misled to exclusively associate God’s kingdom with the number of Christians in the world.  At one point in our Anglican history we were exclusively about making the entire world Christian.  The kingdom of God was equivalent to the British Empire and the Church of England who through its missionary efforts brought their religion to the entire empire in Britain’s foreign parts including America.

In our postcolonial society the kingdom of God is not exclusively equivalent to the size of the Christian Church.  The Church is a part of the kingdom of God, but it is not the kingdom.  Some theologians would disagree with me.  Roman Catholic theologians, particularly, the more orthodox, Vatican centered ones understand the church as the fulfillment of the kingdom of God.  They see equivalence between church and kingdom. 

Anglicans of which we participate through our Episcopal tradition tend to see the church more often as a means but not as an exclusive end.  Anglicans have an incarnational theology.  Incarnational is the way we participate in the life of Christ in our day-to-day life in the world in real, fleshy and earthy ways.  It is lovely that we all have roles in the worship life of The Episcopal Church as priest, deacon, acolyte, lector and more.  Our incarnational roles do not stop with our service in the church but reach out through our working lives in the world.

It is in this sense that I want to explore with you the way we are each a reflection of the kingdom of God.  Each of us are in some sense the tiny mustard seeds.  How do we live as Christ centered seeds in the world and reflect the love of the kingdom of God in our lives?

As I thought and prayed over this question this past week I began to think of mind maps.  A mind map is a tool to help people draw on paper their big ideas into smaller elements.  Through mind mapping people write words, draw symbols and pictures on a page in a random way.  The graphics are meant to flow freely in a non-narrative manner, so that thinkers visualize the abundance of ideas in their mind to make connections to see the bigger picture.  I have seen scholars write huge mind maps that literally cover an entire lecture hall.

I see value in the use of a mind map to reflect on the impact of our Christian lives.  In baptism we come into the Christian life, blessed with a Christian vocation and invited to sprout into new forms of life.  If any one of us drew a mind map of all the people and places where we have ever touched people with a Christian sense of love we would literally run out of paper. 

So often I hear people tell me in spiritual direction that they cannot find their ministry.  Once a man with two adopted retarded children told me he was looking for his ministry.  I was like seriously?  Don’t you see your role as a father to these children as your ministry?  Is not every father and mother a minister to their own household and family?

Who are the ministers of the Church?  Open your prayer book to page 855 for the answer.  The ministers of the Church are laypersons, bishops, priests and deacons.  The order in the Prayer Book answer is very intentional.  If you were to read the same question in the Roman Catholic catechism bishops and priests would be listed first. Laypersons are ministers in God’s Church. 

If you continue to read the answers to the ministry of the laity, bishop, priest and deacon, you will see we all share a common ministry. Our primary ministry the Prayer Book instructs us is “to represent Christ and God’s Church” in that order.  We represent when we embody and our Christ-like to others.

It is through our representation of Christ that we minister in the world.  We represent Christ even when we are not sure what specific ministry we are called to. The way we live in the world is the way we represent Christ and minister on a deeply human level through our everyday encounters.  I will never forget one of my first dates with Stefani, my dearly beloved.  We went to one of my favorite restaurants in Pasadena, California.  The owner of the restaurant could not wait to meet Stefani.  Finally the big day arrived.  It was New Years’s eve and there was a lot of glassware on the table.  Our lovely big crystal goblets were just filled with fresh cold water!  The owner came over to the table to joyously greet Stefani and his French cuff just did not quite clear the water goblet.  The cold water dumped right into Stefani’s lap soaking her and her beautiful dress. 

Stefani laughed!  She laughed! 

Stefani’s spontaneous response still brings tears to my eyes.  Stefani did not swear at the owner or call him some nasty name.  She laughed! In that instance, just two months after we had first met, I immediately knew that one day I was going to ask Stefani to marry me.  I was like wow this woman is truly full of grace. In that moment I knew she was different from all the other women I had ever dated. 

I have observed that same grace of Stefani’s in an affluent Boston parish, working class Manchester, England and now here in Reno.  Stefani is the same loving, gracious person with even people who would annoy most of us.  Her way of being is her particular gift, her unique way that she represents Christ in the world.  Jesus laughed! 

We all have unique gifts that help us represent Christ in the world.

What is your unique gift and how do you use that gift to represent Christ in the world? 

I told Damian, your senior warden this past week that I can’t wait to learn about the history of St. John’s Church Glenbrook.  I know that when I read your parish’s history I will see the ways this little church has reached far and wide, well beyond the Lake Tahoe shores. Our worship in this gem of a building is just the tiny seed that nurtures our being Christ’s hands in the world to incarnate Christ’s love to all.  It might be fun one day to draw your own map of the impact of the people of this parish on the world!

If you are like most Christians you miss or diminish the good you do. The Good News of today’s Gospel is that through the tiny seeds of what we each bring to the world we are able to leave Christ’s loving mark on the world.  We leave our Christ mark in many ways including a loving countenance and compassionate touch on all people in this world, especially the poor and marginalized. 

The world often forgets the poor and the marginalized but Jesus’ ministry always begins with the poor, marginalized and other outcasts of our society. Each of our Christ marks are left everywhere we go.  In this way our ministries reach far and wide with an abundance of fruit that few of us will ever have the privilege to harvest all of it. The Christian Church is the community of all of us who represent Christ in the world.  Tiny seeds produce an amazing abundance of fruit. 

The kingdom of God within each of us is like the tiny mustard that produces abundant life throughout the whole earth.  Even if we were never to travel beyond Glenbrook, the people we touch in a Christ-like manner will reach out like the wild, far-reaching branches of the mustard tree shrub.  In this way the kingdom of God is more widespread than the Pew report described the expansion of global Christianity. The earthly kingdom of God, Christian love cannot be quantified. Christ’s love is deeply felt, remembered in ways that transform our world into the earthly kingdom that Jesus envisioned.

Church: More Than Keeping The Lights On

Sermon preached on Second Sunday After Pentecost: 2Cor 4:13-5:1 and Mark 3: 20-35 at St. John's in the Wilderness, Glenbrook, Nevada

I was the priest that led St. Stephen’s Church in Reno, Nevada through a yearlong discernment process that led the vestry and congregation to decide to close.  St. Stephen’s Reno was a grace-filled close.  There was no element of the death of a parish, but rather a true celebration of life. My ministry with the people of St. Stephen’s was my most exhilarating experience as a priest.  I had the privilege to witness the raw vulnerability, faith, grief, courage and love of the people of St. Stephen’s. I had the privilege to see a congregation discover life in new forms.

One of St. Stephen’s greatest successes as a total ministry congregation was that their members were involved in many ministries throughout Reno-Sparks, Nevada.  Not a single one of their ministries was dependent on having a church building!  This alone is an extraordinary accomplishment for any congregation. All of St. Stephen’s ministries continue uninterrupted now two years later. 

During the year of discernment with St. Stephen’s we all felt that we were going through it alone. At the time we looked for resources like checklists to make sure we were doing everything we could to make responsible decisions.  We had to create everything ourselves including a statement of congregational dissolution for the Standing Committee.  There were no examples available in the Canons of The Episcopal Church. Nor could we find checklists on the manner in which to handle church furnishings and other assets.  We got through it, but it was a challenge.

After St. Stephen’s closed I discovered that thirty Episcopal parishes had closed that year.   One parish church in Northern California closed the same day that St. Stephen’s closed. Thirty Episcopal congregations had closed each year for five years.  I also discovered that the number of parish closings were likely to double and possibly even triple over the next five years.

In his state of the diocese address this year Bishop Bennison in the Diocese of Pennsylvania said 60 of the 141 churches are soon to become non-traditional parishes; that is, unable to sustain a traditional ministry with a full-time priest, property and program.  Bishop Bennison preached that, “having fewer parish buildings will not diminish, our efforts to fulfill the Gospel, but rather free us up for ministry.”  The Diocese of Pennsylvania is not alone.

My experience with St. Stephen’s gave me a heart for Episcopal congregations in transition.  I particularly have a heart and empathy for the people in congregations that often face these challenges alone with little support from the national church or local dioceses.  Don’t get me wrong, there is a lot of good work being done by organizations like the Episcopal Church Building Fund (ECBF) as they help at risk congregations recast their building assets for congregational vitality and viability, but more congregations are left to struggle alone.  If every congregation that could leverage ECBF called them they would not have adequate people resources to match the huge congregational needs across the country. 

Today it is all too easy for the people and congregations to fall off the radar in dioceses as they struggle alone.  Among the St. Stephen’s members 95% were shepherded to one of three area Episcopal churches due in large part to the generous welcome of these area rectors and their vestries.

The part of the transformational change needed is through neighboring congregations. In Reno-Sparks, Trinity, St. Paul’s and St. Catherine’s churches are each moving away from the dominant Episcopal culture where parishes compete against one another for members.  The rectors of these three Episcopal Churches collegially work together.  People freely attend worship in all three congregations from time to time and participate in the fullness of the three parishes’ offerings and their opportunities to gather.

I am writing a book for dioceses and at risk congregations of The Episcopal Church because I want Episcopalians to know that they are not alone and that there is abundant hope.  Review drafts will be ready in a few weeks in time for General Convention.  Later this summer I will self-publish the first edition. The idea behind the book is to offer to congregations at risk resources to help them become more vital and viable. 

In the last few months I have learned so much about congregational vitality and viability.  One of the things I have learned is that very few of our church’s bishops, clergy or laypersons welcome open, transparent, engaged and passionate conversations about viability.  There is much fear, shame and denial about at risk congregations.  Who among us is not more pleased to talk about life than death? It is far too easy for us to lean on our Episcopal polity and let congregations make even unhealthy decisions. Yet as Christians death brings the hope of resurrection and for at risk congregations the possibility of new forms of life.

I am working to connect vitality to viability to help congregations discover new life in Christ and reenergize their baptismal ministries.  In some cases congregations’ only choice will be to close, but I hope that when and if they do that they will close in the transparent and grace-filled ways that St. St. Stephen’s closed.  St. Stephen’s closing led to new life for all.

Today in the second reading we heard, “We have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.”  This house referred to in the second reading is the Church.  The church is the people of God.  The church is where two or three are gathered.  All of us have come to more often associate church with place, such as with this beautiful building overlooking Lake Tahoe. 

Looking back over the history of Christ’s public ministry, the church was mobile and fluid.  The church was dispersed and moved from place to place.  So the second reading reminds us to hold our treasure of Episcopal Church buildings more lightly so that our energy and passion is directed to the eternal church that is always vital and viable due to Christ’s gift to us.  We are Christ’s own forever. We are not beloved on a conditional basis while we are members of a vital and viable local church. 

Many Episcopal congregations throughout the nation are discovering their identity as a dispersed church.  Even here in the Diocese of Nevada two congregations meet in other than their own church buildings.  In both these cases these congregations want their own church building.  In other dioceses throughout the country, some congregations that meet in alternate space have absolutely no desire for their own building.  These congregations celebrate the privilege of using their pledge resources exclusively for mission.

In the Gospel we heard, “If a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand.” In the research I have conducted for the book I am writing I have learned the primary cause for congregations in decline.  The primary cause is not what you might think.  It is not the cause I would have first named.  Of course there are old buildings to maintain.  Some parishes are in decline due to declining pledges not matching operating costs.  Other parishes where fewer people come to church cause it to be in decline.

These are all reasons that contribute to churches in decline, but the primary reason is unresolved conflict in congregations.  Grudges held against one another that are never addressed in ways that lead to deep reconciliation.  Unresolved conflict is the most difficult challenge any congregation faces and often congregations refuse to do the work.  The cost is high, as when conflict is not openly addressed, congregations inevitably close.

We also heard in the Gospel, "Who are my mother and my brothers?" Jesus said, "Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother." 

These Gospel words invite us to reflect on our identity as an Episcopal congregation before God.  As we reflect on what it means to be the church, the Gospel reminds us to place our focus on the mission of God.  Our primary work is to focus on doing the will of God, the ministries of God.  Remember the words of Micah – Do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with your God.  The Good News today is that we the people of God are freed to be church through our lives of Micah-like ministries. 

By freed I mean that there are no liens or prerequisites for being or doing church.  Last week at Yale Divinity School there was a meeting to share some new congregational findings about parishes throughout The Episcopal Church.  The researchers found that the vitality of Episcopal congregations is directly related to the spiritual maturity of its individual members. 

Spiritual maturity begins with a prayer life and participation in the liturgy of the church, but there is more. 

Spiritual maturity is the way we encounter conflict and passionately pursue reconciliation. 

Spiritual maturity is the way we do church and live out our baptismal promises. 

This morning around the nation some Episcopalians are doing church in gem churches such as this one and others are in very nontraditional spaces.  Where we gather really is far less important than what we do between the Sundays we meet.  We are all held together through our faith, baptism, common worship and commitment to be ministers in the world through our day-to-day lives. 
In this way today’s readings return all the congregations of The Episcopal Church’s focus to the fundamentals of being church.  These readings bring welcomed humility and grace to free up Episcopal congregations for the work of God increasingly unburdened by the temporal responsibilities of keeping the lights on. 

The Episcopal Church is alive! 

We need only find our way from anxiously doing all to keep the lights on to passionately serve as ministers of Word and sacrament in our communities every day.

Laying Bare Our Stories as Earth-Makers, Pain-Bearers and Life-Givers

Trinity Sunday, preached at St. John's Glenbrook, Nevada, June 3, 2012

I cannot think of too many places more wonderful than St. John’s Glenbrook to celebrate Trinity Sunday. As I look out your beautiful window overlooking Lake Tahoe I am reminded of the beauty of God’s creation and our role in it. The New Zealand Prayer book’s expression of the trinity as expressed in their contemporary version of the prayer, the Our Father forms the basis of my sermon.

Earth-Maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver, 

source of all that is and that shall be, 

Father and Mother of us all. 

Loving God, in whom is heaven. 

The hallowing of your name 

echoes through the universe.

Here in this place we have the privilege to experience every Sunday the beauty of God’s creation, fed by Word and sacrament to go out into the world to be earth-makers, pain-bearers and life-givers as we enact and embody our Trinitarian faith.  

Storm Swain, an Episcopal priest who teaches in Philadelphia comes to The Episcopal Church from New Zealand.  Storm wrote a wonderful book called Trauma and Transformation at Ground Zero.  In her book Storm uses the New Zealand Trinitarian lens to help us to see the trinity as a means to understanding the way God manifested God’s self at ground zero.  Her book is a collection of stories about the men and women who served as chaplains at ground zero as bodies were recovered, blessed and returned to families for a proper burial. 

Storm’s book is an amazing collection of the stories of chaplains who worked in the recovery process over a period of nine months.  I found myself skipping over Storm’s theological arguments to read the next chaplain’s account. 

Storm suggests that the ground zero chaplains function in the shadows of the creator as earth-maker holding the other and their story in eternity. Pain-bearer is the chaplain’s willingness to take on the pain and suffering of the other.  Life-giver transforms the suffering through affirmation of the mortuary and emergency service workers.  

Storm’s stories of chaplains at ground zero give us a firsthand ability to touch the garment of Jesus’ healing ministry and to participate in the collective power of the trinity overcoming even the horror of 9/11. I want to read a few excerpts to you verbatim:

In the following excerpt we have a glimpse of the everlasting power of the earth-maker as experienced by one chaplain:

“I saw that within every part, whether it be a body part or a whole body, you really have the fullness of God’s creation in any one part.  The cell structure and the wonder of the wholeness and to remind the people there that our wholeness will, on this earth, will only be kept in the mind of God. Because eventually we will all be dust or parts or particles. And so I think theological awareness always made me stand with a sense of awe and mystery and wonder of God’s creativity and God’s promise and capacity for restoration.”

In the following excerpt we have a glimpse of the compassion of the pain-bearer as experienced by another chaplain:

“The best I can do with this is to allow things to be what they are. Everything has trade-offs. There are no more, there are no less, they are.  You deal with them the way they are and fully and completely present.  Insofar as you’ll repress the moment, you’ll pick that up later. So that is when on a couple of occasions when I’ve gone to Big Sur on retreat, there would be times I lay on the floor and have people touch me and sob. Not crying over a particular thing but just being able to, in a moment of safety, be entirely vulnerable without having to explain. Now, that’s much better in Big Sur than in the pit of ground zero. And it is not that one is real and the other isn’t. Both are real. Both are authentic.”

In the final excerpt we have a glimpse of the transforming presence of life-giver as experienced by one chaplain.

“I think the first time we saw a recovery of somebody that was pretty much intact, almost complete, there was just a moment of realization.  A moment of connection with that person, with God, and with all the other people around, how we had in that small place, in that small moment, this full circle of life and death and living and dying and finishing something and moving on. And that was very powerful.”

How do we each invite the earth-maker, pain-bearer and life-giver to be channeled through our lives? 

What stories might the people of this congregation tell about earth-maker, pain-bearer and life-giver? 

Earth-maker and life-giver is easy and often visible to see in our lives particularly as we look out grand windows like these on to God’s beautiful creation.  Our painful stories are typically more hidden and invisible behind a veil we only remove to our closest friends, the ones we trust.  At ground zero there was no privileged veil as all was exposed, the good, the bad, the blessing, the horror of evil, all was laid bare.

Yet even when our stories are veiled we need to remember that through the Trinitarian lens creation, suffering and transformation always coexist in our Christian lives.  Our entire Christian tradition is seen through this Trinitarian lens of the creation of the world in the OT, the pain-bearing of the public ministry and passion of Christ and the life-giver of the resurrection and Pentecost.  The doctrine of the trinity brings all of these salvific actions together. 

We enact the trinity through our lives of awe in God’s creation, holding painful stories for each other and sharing hope in eternal life.  There is no Easter Sunday without Good Friday.  There is no Pentecost without Easter Sunday.  The trinity brings all of these liturgical seasons together in a mystical dance to which we are all invited and none are left out.  This mystical dance is not the high school dances some of us recall! In the Trinitarian dance all are invited.  None are excluded.  Each of us as part of God’s creation and we are all necessary in telling the story of God’s love.

You will soon discover that one of the distinctive characteristics of my preaching is my willingness to appropriately share my story as we companion with each other to discover Christ in the Gospels. Storm offers a means to see blessing through vulnerability in the extraordinary circumstances of ground zero. We have our lives.  To share our stories involves trust and some risk.  No degree of trust is possible without increasing degrees of risk in which we are willing to go with each other beyond the normal pleasantries of our every day life.

It is my custom when I preach and preside for the first time in a parish to acknowledge the tremor you will likely see in my hands as I raise the bread and chalice or distribute Holy Communion to you.  I have had this tremor since my birth.  At its worst the tremor was a source of embarrassment when I was younger.  In more recent years, the tremor is a blessing.  My tremor helps me see with awe the diversity of God’s creation.  My tremor has taught me to bear the pain of differences of others.  My tremor helps me experience the power of healing transformation that some have experienced through my trembling hands that participate in another’s suffering making them feel less isolated and less abandoned by their humanity.  I have made sense of my tremor through the gift of the trinity in a similar but different way that the ground zero chaplains reflected and made sense of their experiences. 

How do you as a congregation or persons in this congregation experience your life through the gift of the trinity?

Carol Gallagher, an Episcopal bishop has written, “No one can guess what the story of your church community is, and if they guess, they will probably guess wrong. It takes a whole group of people sharing their experiences for the full story to come to light, with depth, color, and the vibrancy of a living tradition – your tradition, your story.  The power of story can be seen as the light of the Gospel story permeating and saturating the living mission of your congregation.” 

What stories might you tell each other about St. John’s Glenbrook? 

The good news today is that the trinity is a gift that invites us to join an eternal dance with God as we express awe with the earth-maker, share in pain-bearing responsibilities and offer life-giving transformation to those in need of the Spirit’s sacred balm.  It is through our story and the stories of others that we find our strength and courage to stay in the Trinitarian dance.

As St. John’s looks for its next priest and continues with its life as a congregation, now would be a good time for you to recall your stories of participation in the Trinitarian ministries of the earth-maker, pain-bearer and life-giver. 

Whatever human story, the transforming power of the trinity for all of us is that it lays bear our vulnerabilities that we otherwise keep veiled, masked and invisible beyond public reach and surely out of reach of one and another’s touch. 

God bless us in our bold and courageous efforts that lay bare our individual and congregational stories as earth-makers, pain-bearers and life-givers that we may lay bare God’s love for all.