28 August

Poor Peter...last week he hits the ball out of the park by identifying Jesus as the Messiah, Son of the Living God.  But this week he blows it.  Can you blame him though?  Jesus reveals to the disciples what is to come and Peter doesn't understand why Jesus would have to go through all the suffering and death; his reaction is strong: "God forbid it, Lord!"

Jesus' response to Peter includes some of the hardest words we Christians hear. If we, like Peter, have our minds focused on human things, we will trip ourselves up.  Instead, Jesus says: "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."  These are not words of comfort.  These are startling words - shocking words.  What does that mean for us comfortable Christians today?

Perhaps it is a copout on my part, but I believe that Paul gives us some good advice in his letter to the Romans.  I don't think it's an accident that the passage on letting "love be genuine" is paired with this gospel reading (Romans 12:9-21).  Paul's instruction to the people is a wonderful guide for how we should and can live our lives as good Christians today: "...be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord.  Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer...extend hospitality to strangers.  Bless those who persecute you...Do not repay anyone evil for evil.  If possible...live peaceably with all."  And finally: "Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."

All of the above is easier said than done, but it is our calling to do our best to live this way.  How else will we be known as Christians?

 M.E.+

21 August

“Who do you say that I am?”

It was in the city, Caesarea Philippi, surrounded by a seamy and very secular society, that Jesus decided to ask his disciples a key question. He asked them, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” But perhaps the next question Jesus asked is more important. After he had listened to their various replies, he said, “Who do you say that I am?”

That question placed everyone on the spot. Peter blurted out that Jesus was the Christ. That moment remains alive throughout time. Jesus asks this question of us now and asks it in exactly the same words, “Who do you say I am?” Each one of us alone knows the reply we have tried to make up to this point in our lives. Maybe we have already said to Jesus, as Peter said, “You are the Christ.” If we haven’t, we need to say it at some stage, if our relationship with Jesus is to be strong and lasting.

It is interesting that Jesus chose Caesarea Philippi as the place to ask his question, a city that was considered beautiful and dangerous, sensual and secular. Look at the world we live in, the world where we are trying to be his disciples. Can that urban world of ours not be seen in very much the same terms as Caesarea Philippi? It certainly can be tough and dangerous; in places very beautiful and impressive. Our places and times are also intrigued by temptations of a sensual nature. We all know that it is used endlessly, much of the time to sell us things we desire.

The point is that it is right in the middle of this very secular world that Jesus asks us his eternal question. He demands that we state our allegiance to him.  Notice what he says to Peter after Peter’s expression of faith. Jesus defined that faith as the rock on which God’s work in a Christian community can be founded. Jesus depends on us. What will our answer be?

Peace to you all,

Bob+

14 August

Sunday’s collect was oddly appropriate for my first Sunday back from Jerusalem.  It reads:

Almighty God, you have given your only Son to be for us a sacrifice for sin, and also an example of godly life: Give us grace to receive thankfully the fruits of his redeeming work, and to follow daily in the blessed steps of his most holy life.

“Follow daily in the blessed steps…”  I’m fairly certain the liturgists who composed this collect meant that to be figurative language.  But I have just returned from pilgrimage.  I had the privilege to visit Nazareth, Bethlehem, Galilee and Jerusalem – all places we know Jesus walked.  And our group walked the Way of the Cross, the route Jesus walked from condemnation to crucifixion.

So, as I prayed the collect with you, many memories of my trip flashed through my mind.  I hope to share the stories of my travels with you as we all do our best to follow in Christ’s footsteps.

M.E.+

7 August

In today’s gospel passage, we share a moment in the turbulent relationship between Jesus and the disciples.  The crowd has been fed.  Jesus sends the disciples over to the far side of the lake, promising to follow.  Jesus stays to see the people off.  By the time they are gone, night has fallen.  Out on the lake things have turned ugly; a wind has made the water very dangerous, and the boat is in some serious difficulty.  The fact that it is pitch dark makes the situation even worse.  At this point, Christ appears to them, moving over the waters.  They are terrified.  Typically, the one who responds is Peter.  Impelled by the sight of his Master, he leaves the boat, reaching for Jesus.  Suddenly his courage fails him and he goes under.  Christ reaches out to him and rescues him.

What is being offered to us here?  First, we all have to take our voyage across the lake, because the lake is life itself.  We all take that voyage in the fearful and vulnerable vessel called the self.  Because of the vulnerability, we frequently travel with others.  To each of us there comes a time of storm, of struggle, and of fear.  At such a time, we feel like it is night in our lives.  It is in fact at night that we do a great deal of our wrestling with those thoughts that storm the defenses of our half-asleep mind.

At such times, Christ can and does come to us.  In our fear he may say in many ways to us, “Take heart, it is I; have no fear.”  We will indeed take heart in the face of what is troubling us.  We will make our decision to resist fear.  Like Peter, we will get up and risk ourselves in the face of the storm within us, trying to conquer our fear.  Sometimes in such a situation we can falter as Peter did.  The storm howls around us.  The world seems to give way beneath us; we begin to sink.  At such a moment, Christ can and does reach out to us.  There can be new strength and stability.  There can be a stilling of the inner storm.  This has been true for many fellow pilgrims who have gone before us, and it can be true for us.

May the Peace of Christ be with you this week,

Fr. Bob+

31 July

In our gospel, the disciples and Jesus are in a deserted place, with a crowd of over five thousand hungry people.  Then, Jesus blesses the few loaves and fish, and amazingly, “all ate and were filled!”
One of the earliest Christian communion prayers says: “As this broken bread, once dispersed over the hills, was brought together and became one loaf, so may your church be brought together from the ends of the earth.”

Perhaps this story of Jesus feeding the five thousand would urge us to add:
“May we, like this bread -  like the Christ, be broken and shared with the world, that all may be fed.”
Scattered.   Gathered.   Scattered.

Theologian Donald Armentrout writes that “Christ has called the scattered grains from the hills and transformed them into something beyond what they had been by themselves: now they are bread.  Christ has called the people and transformed them into something beyond what they had been by themselves:  now they are Christ’s body.”

If the loaves in this story had remained unbroken – and unshared, they could have fed no one.  But when the bread was blessed and broken and shared, “all ate and were filled.”

If the church were to remain only within its community here, without scattering into the world, it could feed no one.  But when the church is blessed -  and broken -  and shared, it can be bread for a hungry world.
After we receive Holy Communion, after we have been fed by “the Living Bread,” we are told:   “Go . . .  Serve . . .”  To this sending, we boldly reply: “Thanks be to God!”

Peace,

Fr. Bob+