Paul explains that the life of faith is a slow and laborious process and that hope is born of character, character is born of endurance, and endurance is born of suffering. At each moment the world must be understood in its momentary revelation in order for the greater truth to emerge. Unless we allow ourselves to experience suffering, not shying away, we will not know endurance. Only by giving ourselves over to a self that values endurance will we be of character, and only for those of character does hope endure, allowing us to live with and through suffering. The cycle begins again.
Jesus, likewise, invites us to a life of faith built on slow growth, on timely revelation, saying, "I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot hear them now." Wisdom in God also is revealed according to the concreteness of our experience, its place in time, inviting us to see clearly the age and the faith we inhabit, to witness its limits, knowing that only in that full knowledge does continued and renewed revelation emerge.
The disciples look on in bewilderment. "We cannot hear?" they wonder, examining themselves for their own unreadiness. What is it in us that cannot hear, what in us prevents us from looking at our faith with open eyes, stepping into its mystery, its slow unfolding, patiently examining its details so that when God reveals himself anew we might know the difference?
This Trinity Sunday we are invited to stand in faith, to stand precisely where we are, in the mystery of the Trinity, in the mystery of a God revealed to us in this moment, this age, this life and this faith, a mystery that we explore, unravel and receive together, knowing that in seeing more truly, with each new revelation, we step into greater hope, greater joy, greater love, greater knowledge and communion with the three, the one.
Read Entire Sermon
- excerpt from "Sermons That Work:" Jason Sierra, Office for Young Adult and Campus Ministries, Episcopal Church Center
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
23 May - Jesus Is Everything
Dear Friends,
Am writing to you on the Eve of Pentecost, the day before we will celebrate much in the liturgy for the Day of Pentecost, including: the birthday of the Church through the coming of the Spirit upon the disciples; Holy Baptism as we welcome Annalise as the newest member of the church; and First Communion with 14 children on a very special day in their lives. So much to celebrate!
And then, on the next day, Monday, we are called to carry on the work of the Church in the world. We are not alone, since the Spirit will be with us to inspire us and support us in all of our work. And, the Church that we call home is founded on the One through whom we have all been given new life, our risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I invite you to meditate this week on the names by which our Savior is known, and give thanks for being called as Jesus’ follower.
“Hope, life, way, salvation, understanding, wisdom, light,
Judge, door, most high, king, precious stone, prophet, priest,
Messiah, sabaoth, teacher, spouse, mediator,
Scepter, dove, hand, stone, son, and emmanuel,
Vineyard, shepherd, sheep, peace, root, vine-stock,
Olive tree, source, wall, lamb, victim, lion, intercessor,
Word, man, net, rock, house:
Christ Jesus is everything.”
- (Damasus, Fourth century)
God bless you as we begin this season after Pentecost, the days of “ordinary time.”
Peace,
Fr. Bob +
Am writing to you on the Eve of Pentecost, the day before we will celebrate much in the liturgy for the Day of Pentecost, including: the birthday of the Church through the coming of the Spirit upon the disciples; Holy Baptism as we welcome Annalise as the newest member of the church; and First Communion with 14 children on a very special day in their lives. So much to celebrate!
And then, on the next day, Monday, we are called to carry on the work of the Church in the world. We are not alone, since the Spirit will be with us to inspire us and support us in all of our work. And, the Church that we call home is founded on the One through whom we have all been given new life, our risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I invite you to meditate this week on the names by which our Savior is known, and give thanks for being called as Jesus’ follower.
“Hope, life, way, salvation, understanding, wisdom, light,
Judge, door, most high, king, precious stone, prophet, priest,
Messiah, sabaoth, teacher, spouse, mediator,
Scepter, dove, hand, stone, son, and emmanuel,
Vineyard, shepherd, sheep, peace, root, vine-stock,
Olive tree, source, wall, lamb, victim, lion, intercessor,
Word, man, net, rock, house:
Christ Jesus is everything.”
- (Damasus, Fourth century)
God bless you as we begin this season after Pentecost, the days of “ordinary time.”
Peace,
Fr. Bob +
Sunday, May 16, 2010
16 May - The Perfect Hiding Place
Today, the 7th Sunday of the Easter season is an in-between place. Three days ago the Church celebrated the Feast of the Ascension, marking Jesus’ final departure from his followers to settle in his place with God. Jesus has assured his disciples God will be with them. The gift of the Holy Spirit, which we will celebrate on Pentecost, has not yet arrived. I wonder what it was like for Jesus’ followers in that place of not knowing. What was familiar has disappeared and they do not know what lies ahead. All they have is an assurance that God is with them. I imagine them wondering to themselves, ‘So, where are we going to find God?’ This question reminds me a wonderful folk wisdom story that provides one answer. I share it with you.
“A legend tells how, at the beginning of time, God resolved to hide himself within his own creation. As God was wondering how best to do this, the angels gathered around him.
‘I want to hide myself in my creation,’ he told them. ‘I need to find a place that is not too easily discovered, for it is in their search for me that my creatures will grown in spirit and in understanding.’
‘Why don’t you hide yourself deep in their earth?’ the first angel suggested.
God pondered for a while, then replied, ‘No. It will not be long before they learn how to mine the earth and discover all the treasures that it contains. They will discover me too quickly, and they will not have had enough time to do their growing.’
‘Why don’t you hide yourself on their moon?’ a second angel suggested.
God thought about this idea for a while, and then replied, ‘No. It will take longer, but before too long they will learn how to fly through space. They will arrive on the moon and explore its secrets, and they will discover me too soon, before they have had enough time to do their growing.’
The angels were at a loss to know what hiding places to suggest. There was a long silence.
‘I know,’ piped up one angel, finally. ‘Why don’t you hide yourself within their own hearts? They will never think of looking there!’
‘That’s it!’ said God, delighted to have found the perfect hiding place. And so it is that God hides secretly deep within the heart of every one of God’s creatures, until that creature has grown enough in spirit and understanding to risk the great journey into the secret core of its own being. And there, the creature discovers its creator, and is rejoined to God for all eternity.”
From One Hundred Wisdom Stories from around the World
Peace,
Deacon Sue
Monday, May 3, 2010
2 May - I Value You
A theme of “value” seems to flow through this Sunday’s readings (5 Easter). Peter learns not to question the value of spreading the Good News to gentiles. In Revelation, John testifies that God will dwell with us and we with God; all will be made new. Even in the Gospel, Jesus’ new commandment dictates that we learn to love (i.e. value) one another.
William Slone Coffin wrote in Letters to a Young Doubter about a way to look at value I’d never thought of before. He writes:
“…God’s love doesn’t seek value; it creates it. It’s not because we have value that we are loved, but because we are loved that we have value. Our value is a gift, not an achievement. Just think: we never have to prove ourselves; that’s already taken care of. All we have to do is express ourselves—return God’s love with our own—and what a world of difference there is between proving ourselves and expressing ourselves.” (96)
I am grateful for Coffin’s words and hope that we can live into Jesus’ commandment expressing our love for all, especially God.
Peace,
The Rev. M.E. Eccles, LPC
William Slone Coffin wrote in Letters to a Young Doubter about a way to look at value I’d never thought of before. He writes:
“…God’s love doesn’t seek value; it creates it. It’s not because we have value that we are loved, but because we are loved that we have value. Our value is a gift, not an achievement. Just think: we never have to prove ourselves; that’s already taken care of. All we have to do is express ourselves—return God’s love with our own—and what a world of difference there is between proving ourselves and expressing ourselves.” (96)
I am grateful for Coffin’s words and hope that we can live into Jesus’ commandment expressing our love for all, especially God.
Peace,
The Rev. M.E. Eccles, LPC
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
18 Apr - Earth Day and Easter?
Following the celebration of Easter, Earth Day now comes along. The timing, frankly, seems a little off. Those who proposed and celebrated the first Earth Day probably didn’t consult the Christian calendar. If they did, they may well have chosen to mark Earth Day during the season of Lent.
Earth Day needs to call us to a stance not unlike that of Lent: a day to reflect on how our own lives and our society’s economic practices impact God’s creation. A time to reflect on our own call in relationship to God’s creation, human and non-human.
In the second chapter of Genesis we read that we were put in the garden to “till and keep” or to “work it and take care of it.” If we take a look at the Hebrew word often translated as “till” or “work” or “cultivate,” we find the word abad. Abad is the Hebrew word for “serve.” It’s the same word that shows up in the profound words of Joshua: “As for me and my house, we will abad the Lord” – meaning we will “serve” the Lord.
It’s telling to note that, by and large, we humans don’t think of “serve,” as appears in that second chapter of Genesis, as the best descriptor of our role in relationship to God’s Earth. Rather, it’s safe to say that more of us think of “dominion,” as appears in first chapter of Genesis. That’s the more famous verse.
But I believe our role here on God’s good earth is to be servants of creation, and there's a long litany of evidence suggesting our service is not going so well. Species, expressions of God’s abundance and creativity and love, are going extinct at a rate not seen since the disappearance of the dinosaurs. They are disappearing at 1,000 to 10,000 times the “background rate” or natural extinction rate. Human activity, particularly habitat distruction, is the cause of such extinctions.
While the debate in the United States goes on, it’s hard to look into the eyes of a Pacific Islander or Alaskan coastal native or Filipino farmer and say climate change is not real. Leaders of the Anglican Communion in the Philippines recently wrote the following in a letter to a justice network in the Diocese of Olympia:
“A year ago, our own Bishop of our Diocese of North Central Philippines, Rt. Rev. Joel A. Pachao, said in a meeting with some of our foreign partners, ‘We are doing all these environmental stewardship programs so that you can continue to drive your SUVs.’ It was an expression of anger … over the fact that it is us in the so-called ‘developing … countries’ who are suffering most from the effects of climate change which can be attributed to carbon … emissions, the bulk of which are from the western developed countries.”
Dr. Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, recently told an audience at Southwark Cathedral in London that people had allowed themselves to become “addicted to fantasies about prosperity and growth, dreams of wealth without risk and profit without cost.”
Those fantasies have disconnected us from our innate biophilia. Williams contends that those fantasies lead to a lifestyle where the human soul was “one of the foremost casualties of environmental degradation.” He went on to say:
“Many of the things which have moved us towards ecological disaster have been distortions of whom and what we are and their overall effect has been to isolate us from the reality we’re part of. Our response to this crisis needs to be, in the most basic sense, a reality check.”
So perhaps part of the really good news of Earth Day is that it offers the opportunity to heal our disconnection from that which we love so deeply. The distortions of who and what we are will begin to heal; we will reunite with that innate biophilia; no longer will we quiet the song of another species, or of a babe in arms. The angels and all the creatures surrounding the throne depicted in Revelations will be healed and proclaim praises in full voice.
May it be so. It may sound utopian, but it is something Jesus believed in so much that he was willing to die for it – for such will the Kingdom of God be like. Maybe Easter is, after all, an appropriate season for us to mark and celebrate Earth Day.
Michael Schut, Economic and Environmental Affairs Officer of the Episcopal Church
»read full sermon
Earth Day needs to call us to a stance not unlike that of Lent: a day to reflect on how our own lives and our society’s economic practices impact God’s creation. A time to reflect on our own call in relationship to God’s creation, human and non-human.
In the second chapter of Genesis we read that we were put in the garden to “till and keep” or to “work it and take care of it.” If we take a look at the Hebrew word often translated as “till” or “work” or “cultivate,” we find the word abad. Abad is the Hebrew word for “serve.” It’s the same word that shows up in the profound words of Joshua: “As for me and my house, we will abad the Lord” – meaning we will “serve” the Lord.
It’s telling to note that, by and large, we humans don’t think of “serve,” as appears in that second chapter of Genesis, as the best descriptor of our role in relationship to God’s Earth. Rather, it’s safe to say that more of us think of “dominion,” as appears in first chapter of Genesis. That’s the more famous verse.
But I believe our role here on God’s good earth is to be servants of creation, and there's a long litany of evidence suggesting our service is not going so well. Species, expressions of God’s abundance and creativity and love, are going extinct at a rate not seen since the disappearance of the dinosaurs. They are disappearing at 1,000 to 10,000 times the “background rate” or natural extinction rate. Human activity, particularly habitat distruction, is the cause of such extinctions.
While the debate in the United States goes on, it’s hard to look into the eyes of a Pacific Islander or Alaskan coastal native or Filipino farmer and say climate change is not real. Leaders of the Anglican Communion in the Philippines recently wrote the following in a letter to a justice network in the Diocese of Olympia:
“A year ago, our own Bishop of our Diocese of North Central Philippines, Rt. Rev. Joel A. Pachao, said in a meeting with some of our foreign partners, ‘We are doing all these environmental stewardship programs so that you can continue to drive your SUVs.’ It was an expression of anger … over the fact that it is us in the so-called ‘developing … countries’ who are suffering most from the effects of climate change which can be attributed to carbon … emissions, the bulk of which are from the western developed countries.”
Dr. Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, recently told an audience at Southwark Cathedral in London that people had allowed themselves to become “addicted to fantasies about prosperity and growth, dreams of wealth without risk and profit without cost.”
Those fantasies have disconnected us from our innate biophilia. Williams contends that those fantasies lead to a lifestyle where the human soul was “one of the foremost casualties of environmental degradation.” He went on to say:
“Many of the things which have moved us towards ecological disaster have been distortions of whom and what we are and their overall effect has been to isolate us from the reality we’re part of. Our response to this crisis needs to be, in the most basic sense, a reality check.”
So perhaps part of the really good news of Earth Day is that it offers the opportunity to heal our disconnection from that which we love so deeply. The distortions of who and what we are will begin to heal; we will reunite with that innate biophilia; no longer will we quiet the song of another species, or of a babe in arms. The angels and all the creatures surrounding the throne depicted in Revelations will be healed and proclaim praises in full voice.
May it be so. It may sound utopian, but it is something Jesus believed in so much that he was willing to die for it – for such will the Kingdom of God be like. Maybe Easter is, after all, an appropriate season for us to mark and celebrate Earth Day.
Michael Schut, Economic and Environmental Affairs Officer of the Episcopal Church
»read full sermon
18 Apr - What's Your Conversion Story?
What’s your conversion story?
Do you know you’re an instrument of God?
These are the questions that come to my mind when I read this portion of Acts. The conversion of Paul is probably the most famous conversion story in the Bible because it’s pretty dramatic. Let’s review a little bit. Saul was zealous at trying to ferret out men and women who were “of the Way” – early Christians. He was a man who believed he was right and doing God’s work.
So he’s on the way to Damascus and suddenly a bright light, brighter than the noonday sun, envelops him and he falls to the ground and he hears: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” And Saul’s reply is: “Who are you, Lord?” It’s not quite as ironic as it sounds because “lord” is really translated better as “sir”. I’m sure he was surprised and terrified to hear it was Jesus calling him. The light goes away, but he can’t see. He is totally helpless. Those travelling with him take him to Damascus; take him to a place where he’ll be safe, where he prays and fasts.
Enter Ananias. Ananias, plain old guy – this is the only time we see him. We might as well call him “John Smith” and he’s called in a vision by God to go and heal Saul. And he says: “Whoa! Wait a minute. I’ve heard all the stories about this guy. I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” And God says: “Go!” But Ananias is privileged enough to hear why – that God has chosen Saul to be an instrument of spreading the Good News to the Gentiles. So Ananias goes and lays hands on him; heals Paul and fills him with the Holy Spirit. I think it’s important that we notice that. Ananias, John Smith, plain ole guy, not an apostle, nobody truly special, but heals Paul and fills him with the Holy Spirit. We are all full of the Holy Spirit. This is what we can do.
I imagine that there are lots of stories of conversions here in this congregation; maybe not even conversions to Christianity or even becoming an Episcopalian. But I would venture to guess that every story made you a better person and a better Christian. We are all instruments of God. I invite you to open your hearts, especially when you’re feeling helpless. Open your hearts to what God is trying to say and celebrate with the joy of Paul in proclaiming that Jesus is indeed the Son of God.
Peace,
The Rev. M.E. Eccles
Thursday, April 15, 2010
11 Apr - You Are Free
Every night the same routine played out. It happened around the time the 11 o’clock news was on. As a child she usually slept right through it, but there were those occasions when she’d rouse from sleep, hearing the familiar gate of her father’s footsteps walking first to the kitchen door, then to the front door, then tramp downstairs to the basement. Dad would walk through the house and check the doors and secure the locks if need be.
It was a safe feeling to have – knowing that Dad was making everything safe and secure and that she and her family were out of harm’s way. Locked doors, secure doors, were comforting. The doors said, “If you just stay holed up here until daylight, then all will be well.” It was as if, in their silent and stalwart way, they were saying, “Everything is going to be okay, nothing can get through me, and I’m not going to let anything get to you.”
In short, locked doors assuaged fears, trepidations, anxieties, and uncertainties, and quelled the late-night wanderings of an active imagination.
Perhaps that is what the disciples felt on that Easter night so long ago. They were in the room behind the locked doors in fear of those who killed Jesus. They had walked alongside him for three years. They had been out in the public with him and engaged in his work and crusade. Then they who had spoken so confidently had, in the end when it mattered most, deserted him and the cause. They not only deserted him, some even denied they knew him.
Maybe what the disciples were doing was not so much shutting out the world, but locking themselves in. Isn’t that the way it goes with our hearts?
We face fears, anxieties, trepidations, uncertainties, and even shame on a daily basis. We slam home the bolts of the locks on our hearts, and we realize that by locking the world out, we are really shutting ourselves in. We become a prisoner of our own sins, shame, and self-perceptions. Like the disciples, we try to hide from our shame and disappointment in ourselves by locking the doors to our hearts and not letting anyone in.
“To forgive,” in Greek, also means “to set free.” It means to release from bondage and captivity. When Jesus stands among the disciples in a room with a locked door and announces, “Peace be with you,” he is saying not only are “You are forgiven,” but also “You are free.”
At the center of the gospel is the proclamation that Jesus Christ has come looking for us – even behind closed doors. According to John’s text, he walks right through the locked doors to find us. He shows us his wounds from the cross, which are the marks of our forgiveness. Then he says, “Peace be with you.” You are forgiven, peace is restored to your troubled soul, and you are free.
The Rev. Scott Baker, Rector of St. Stephen's Episcopal Church in Newport News, VA
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