Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
September 9, 2012
18 Proper B
When I was a little girl, my mother used to say "If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all." Jesus seems to need to hear those words from my mother this morning. When the Syrophoenician woman comes to Jesus, begging him to heal her little daughter of an unclean spirit, Jesus’ response can only be considered rude. Jesus says to the woman seeking his help "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs." In the first century, dogs were not beloved house pets. Jesus would be out of line to compare the woman to a domesticated dog. But the dogs Jesus refers to were wild and dirty animals, that scrounged for food and were chased away from human company. Jesus is placing the woman beyond the margins of human society, which doesn’t sound at all like the Jesus who worked to make the outcasts insiders and said that whoever is last shall be first.
Perhaps Jesus should study the passage from James which we heard this morning. James writes "Has not God chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith and to be heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him?" In this passage, James condemns the very behavior we see from Jesus this morning. Jesus is distinguishing between the children and the dogs, and the Syrophoenician woman falls in the later category. If this was one of the disciples, who, in Mark’s gospel, consistently misunderstand who Jesus is, that would be one thing. But this is Jesus.
At the end of the story, after Jesus has healed both the child of the Syrophonecian woman and the deaf man, I am left with two basic questions. The first concerns Jesus’ rudeness. Why Jesus is so rude to the Syrophoenician woman when she seeks his help. I can find no satisfactory answer to that question. The commentaries suggest that Jesus was testing her, or that Jesus had an ah-ha moment in the middle of the conversation and realized that he was sent to the Gentiles as well as the Hebrew people. Neither of those explanations are an adequate excuse for Jesus’ rudeness. Quite frankly, I think we have to let go of that question and just live with the fact that Jesus was rude. The second, and more important question, concerns the meaning of this story. What are we supposed to take from a story in which Jesus does actually heal the daughter of the Syrophoenician woman, then heals a deaf man with a speech impediment?
Last week, we heard the Pharisees and scribes wonder why Jesus’ disciples eat without washing their hands, thus disobeying the Jewish laws of ritual cleanliness. Jesus wasn’t terribly polite to the Pharisees and scribes, either, by the way, when he tells them that they abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition. He tells the crowd that there is nothing outside a person that by going inside can defile, but the things that come from within are what defile.
Our gospel lesson this morning with the stories of the healing of both the Syrophoenician woman’s daughter and the deaf man follow right on the heals of Jesus’ comments about what defiles. In Jesus’ time, many people thought that physical ailments were the result of sin and that is part of the reason the sick, the blind and the lame lived on the margins of society. They were considered unclean, or defiled. The Syrophoenician woman with the daughter who is possessed is on the margins of society for several reasons. She is a woman, she is a gentile, and she has a daughter who is possessed by a demon. In the first century, that was a combination that would put her on the edge of society to a Hebrew man. The deaf man with an impediment in his speech was on the fringes of society because his disability meant he had no way to support himself, he may well have had to beg for whatever he needed, and he was unlikely to marry and have a family.
In the end, Jesus’ actions this morning do demonstrate what James calls the "royal law according to scripture" which is to love our neighbor as ourselves. Jesus heals both of these people, and in the case of the deaf man, those who witness the healing proclaim to anyone who will listen that Jesus makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.
Through out the gospels, along with the prophet Isaiah, the sign of the Messiah, the sign that the reign of God is near, is that the deaf hear, the lame walk, the sick are healed, the oppressed are free. Those who previously had to eat whatever crumbs were thrown under the table are now given seats at the table. Jesus’ actions this morning tell us that the Kingdom of God is near. The relevant question for us today is not why Jesus was so rude to the woman who sought healing for her daughter. The real, and much more difficult question, is how our lives bear witness to the reign of God. How do we live so that those in the world around us who get only crumbs, whether in housing, health care, education, or food, know that the Kingdom of God has come near? That is the far more important, and the far more haunting question than why Jesus was so rude to the Syrophoenician woman, and the answer matters.
Amen.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
17 Proper B
Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
September 2, 2012
Several years ago, I was invited to serve as a volunteer chaplain for Clark County Mental Health. The time commitment was minimal-just one or two hours a month. The assignment was a bit tricky, though. The chaplains were to lead a discussion group that would be meaningful to people of any faith or no faith at all. The staff wanted to care for the spiritual needs of their clients, but they wanted the chaplains to be clear that those needs were many and varied and that whatever we did, however we used the hour, had to be accessible to all people.
So, when I go to Mental Health and meet with the clients there, we do two things that are on the one hand accessible to people of almost any faith, or no faith, and yet come from my utterly Episcopalian heart. We share homemade chocolate chip cookies and we talk about the things in life that we are thankful for.
I am sure someday, someone will tell me that they have absolutely nothing to be thankful for, but as yet that has never happened. When a room full of people begin to share the things they are thankful for, the gratitude becomes contagious and typically over the course of the hour, everyone thinks of more and more things for which they are thankful. And that gratitude is transformative. When we think of all the things for which we are thankful, somehow life’s challenges seem a little less daunting and a little easier to bear.
Our readings this morning all have something to do with gratitude. In the poetic words from the Song of Solomon, we can hear the gratitude that the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The dark times are over and spring has arrived, bringing with it the new life of flowers and singing. The winter and rain are metaphors for the absence the people have felt from God, and the flowers and singing are metaphors for their renewed awareness of God’s presence. There is beauty and there is singing, and there is gratitude.
The reading from James begins with the words "Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights." Every good gift, says James, comes from God, and James goes on to talk about how we should live in response to God’s gifts. We are to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger so that we can live as people who have received God’s generous gifts. We are to live as people who are grateful for all God has given us.
At first glance, the gospel reading appears to have nothing whatsoever to do with gratitude. Some of the Pharisees have noticed that Jesus’ disciples do not wash their hands in accordance with the laws of God before they eat. In response to this very reasonable query, Jesus refers to the prophets and says "This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching human precepts and doctrines." To be very clear here, Jesus is not condemning Judaism. Jesus, himself, was a faithful Jew. Jesus was pointing a finger at anyone who, as the cliche says, talks the talk but does not walk the walk, whether in the first or the twenty-first century. The prophets and Jesus called the people to live in response to the God who brought them out of Egypt, though the wilderness and into the Land of Promise. The gratitude that comes from knowing all the God has done for them and for us, transforms hearts so that what emerges from our hearts is not the laundry list of sins Jesus names, but actions that give glory to the God who releases us from bondage.
"But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves," says the writer of James. This morning, we have the privilege of baptizing Mac Sparks. At every baptism, we renew our baptismal covenant. The first part of that covenant affirms our belief in God, using the words of the ancient baptismal creed of the Church, the Apostles Creed. We are asked "Do you believe in God the Father?" "Do you believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God?" and "Do you believe in God the Holy Spirit?" In each case, we give the answer found in the ancient baptismal creed of the church. But once we have affirmed our belief in God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the Baptismal Covenant goes on to ask how we will live in response to that statement of faith. "Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, the breaking of bread, and in the prayers?" Will you persevere in resisting evil, and whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?" "Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?" "Will you seek and serve Christ in all people?" And "Will you strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being?"
These are not actions we take in order to earn anything from God or to keep God from taking his love from us. This is the way God calls us to live simply because God loves us. In baptism, God makes us Christ’s own forever and raises us to the new life of grace. Baptism is all God’s action. We just show up. In response to the gracious love of God, we promise to live lives that reflect that same gracious love to the world.
The great prayer of the church over the bread and wine that brings the presence of Christ to dwell within them is called the Great Thanksgiving, and the Greek word for Thanksgiving is Eucharist. Our principal act of worship is giving thanks. The first words of that prayer, the Eucharistic prayer, are "It is right and a good and joyful thing, always and everywhere, to give thanks to you, Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth." The Christian life, the life into which little Mac is initiated today, calls us to live lives that reflect our gratitude, in all times and in all places.
Amen.
Christ Episcopal Church
September 2, 2012
17 Proper B
Several years ago, I was invited to serve as a volunteer chaplain for Clark County Mental Health. The time commitment was minimal-just one or two hours a month. The assignment was a bit tricky, though. The chaplains were to lead a discussion group that would be meaningful to people of any faith or no faith at all. The staff wanted to care for the spiritual needs of their clients, but they wanted the chaplains to be clear that those needs were many and varied and that whatever we did, however we used the hour, had to be accessible to all people.
So, when I go to Mental Health and meet with the clients there, we do two things that are on the one hand accessible to people of almost any faith, or no faith, and yet come from my utterly Episcopalian heart. We share homemade chocolate chip cookies and we talk about the things in life that we are thankful for.
I am sure someday, someone will tell me that they have absolutely nothing to be thankful for, but as yet that has never happened. When a room full of people begin to share the things they are thankful for, the gratitude becomes contagious and typically over the course of the hour, everyone thinks of more and more things for which they are thankful. And that gratitude is transformative. When we think of all the things for which we are thankful, somehow life’s challenges seem a little less daunting and a little easier to bear.
Our readings this morning all have something to do with gratitude. In the poetic words from the Song of Solomon, we can hear the gratitude that the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The dark times are over and spring has arrived, bringing with it the new life of flowers and singing. The winter and rain are metaphors for the absence the people have felt from God, and the flowers and singing are metaphors for their renewed awareness of God’s presence. There is beauty and there is singing, and there is gratitude.
The reading from James begins with the words "Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights." Every good gift, says James, comes from God, and James goes on to talk about how we should live in response to God’s gifts. We are to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger so that we can live as people who have received God’s generous gifts. We are to live as people who are grateful for all God has given us.
At first glance, the gospel reading appears to have nothing whatsoever to do with gratitude. Some of the Pharisees have noticed that Jesus’ disciples do not wash their hands in accordance with the laws of God before they eat. In response to this very reasonable query, Jesus refers to the prophets and says "This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching human precepts and doctrines." To be very clear here, Jesus is not condemning Judaism. Jesus, himself, was a faithful Jew. Jesus was pointing a finger at anyone who, as the cliche says, talks the talk but does not walk the walk, whether in the first or the twenty-first century. The prophets and Jesus called the people to live in response to the God who brought them out of Egypt, though the wilderness and into the Land of Promise. The gratitude that comes from knowing all the God has done for them and for us, transforms hearts so that what emerges from our hearts is not the laundry list of sins Jesus names, but actions that give glory to the God who releases us from bondage.
"But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves," says the writer of James. This morning, we have the privilege of baptizing Mac Sparks. At every baptism, we renew our baptismal covenant. The first part of that covenant affirms our belief in God, using the words of the ancient baptismal creed of the Church, the Apostles Creed. We are asked "Do you believe in God the Father?" "Do you believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God?" and "Do you believe in God the Holy Spirit?" In each case, we give the answer found in the ancient baptismal creed of the church. But once we have affirmed our belief in God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the Baptismal Covenant goes on to ask how we will live in response to that statement of faith. "Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, the breaking of bread, and in the prayers?" Will you persevere in resisting evil, and whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?" "Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?" "Will you seek and serve Christ in all people?" And "Will you strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being?"
These are not actions we take in order to earn anything from God or to keep God from taking his love from us. This is the way God calls us to live simply because God loves us. In baptism, God makes us Christ’s own forever and raises us to the new life of grace. Baptism is all God’s action. We just show up. In response to the gracious love of God, we promise to live lives that reflect that same gracious love to the world.
The great prayer of the church over the bread and wine that brings the presence of Christ to dwell within them is called the Great Thanksgiving, and the Greek word for Thanksgiving is Eucharist. Our principal act of worship is giving thanks. The first words of that prayer, the Eucharistic prayer, are "It is right and a good and joyful thing, always and everywhere, to give thanks to you, Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth." The Christian life, the life into which little Mac is initiated today, calls us to live lives that reflect our gratitude, in all times and in all places.
Amen.
16 Proper B
Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
August 26, 2012
When I was a child, one of my holy places was a creek not far from my grandparents house in the mountains in North Carolina. Around the lake and through some woods, across a street and past the "no trespassing signs," down a path and a fairly steep slope, there was a creek that ran over rock and down the mountain. Other than the sound of water running over rock, and maybe the sound of the birds, there was only silence. The sunlight reflected through the trees onto the water in a way that was almost magical. I do not think many people knew about this place as there was never any evidence (other than the no trespassing sign) that anyone else had been there. For me, this was what some people call a thin place-a place where the divine and the human come close. I could sit there for a long time and know the presence of God. But, as is true of most holy places, I could not sit there forever. Eventually I had to get up and be on my way, renewed and ready for whatever the rest of the day held.
This church is also a holy place. Holy things happen here: sins are confessed and forgiven, the Risen Christ becomes present in bread and wine, people are welcomed into the Body of Christ through baptism, joined in marriage, and eternally united with Christ in death. In this place, we experience the wonder and mystery of something beyond ourselves, beyond our wildest imagination, and beyond our comprehension. This is a holy place, set apart for the worship of God, and a place where the human and divine come close.
In the reading from I Kings this morning, we hear about another holy place where the human and the divine come near, a place set also apart for the worship of God, as we hear Solomon dedicate the temple in Jerusalem. Solomon has built this temple as a house for God. The year is around 960 BCE. The temple is large and ornate, appropriate housing for the God of Israel who led the people out of bondage in Israel, through the wilderness, and into the Promised Land. In the verses just prior to our reading this morning, the priests bring the Ark of the Covenant into the temple and place it in the inner sanctuary, the most holy place in the temple. The Ark of the Covenant contains the tablets with the 10 commandments and they signify the very presence of God. The moment is so sacred that once the priests come out of the inner sanctuary, a cloud fills the house of the Lord as the glory of the Lord fills the temple. Then Solomon begins his prayer dedicating the house he has built to the God of Israel, which is our reading from I Kings. Solomon’s prayer recalls God’s abundant faithfulness to the people, and he prays that God will hear the prayers of all people that pray in this place so that all the peoples of the earth may know God’s name and fear God.
Yet even in the midst of Solomon’s eloquent prayer of dedication, Solomon wonders if God will indeed dwell on earth. Can the God who is not contained by heaven and the highest heaven be contained in a house, even the house that God requested that Solomon build? Can the God who wandered in the wilderness with the Hebrew people, and led them with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, actually be expected to live in a house, no matter how large or ornate? What does it mean for God to dwell in the temple? At the very least, for the Hebrew people, it meant that God could be encountered in the temple in a way that God could be encountered in no other place on the earth.
But will God indeed really dwell on the earth? In John’s gospel, we are told that in Jesus, God has chosen to dwell among us in a new way. John’s gospel, from which our gospel lesson comes this morning, begins with these words "In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was with God, and the Word was God." And a few verses later, the gospel says "And the Word became flesh and dwelled among us, full of grace and truth." In Solomon’s time and for generations thereafter, the people believed that God dwelled among them in a unique way by God’s presence in the temple Solomon built. When the temple was destroyed in the 6th century BC, the people feared that God had abandoned them. In John’s gospel, we are told that God dwelt among us in the person of Jesus, the Word made flesh. While the Hebrew people were concerned that when the Temple was destroyed, God ceased to be present among them, John’s gospel makes clear that in Jesus’ death and resurrection, God becomes even more present among us. In today’s gospel lesson, we hear Jesus say "Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood dwell in me and I in them." Through the bread and wine of the Eucharist, the Word that became flesh dwells within us and we encounter God in a unique way that transcends time and place and cannot be destroyed.
Holy places are places where we encounter the presence of God, where the divine and the human draw near. As powerful as those places might be, and as much meaning as those places might have, they are not places where we are meant to stay. Solomon asks "But will God indeed dwell on earth? Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house I have built." We do not claim that God can be contained here; quite the opposite. In holy places, whether the temple in Jerusalem in the 10th century BC, or in this holy place, or in the other places in our lives that we find holy, we practice encountering God so that when we leave our holy place, we can encounter God in the world. When we have experienced the presence of God here, we can recognize God in our parking lot on a hot Saturday afternoon as we offer hospitality to our neighbors, or at the Rainbow Table or IHN, or in our places of work, or in a random visit to the grocery. When we practice the experience of God in our holy places, we can more easily experience the presence of God in the midst of our grief and our challenges. The Word made flesh tells us that there is no where we can go that is beyond the presence of God. The holy places of our lives help us recognize that presence beyond these walls.
Amen.
Christ Episcopal Church
August 26, 2012
16 Proper B
When I was a child, one of my holy places was a creek not far from my grandparents house in the mountains in North Carolina. Around the lake and through some woods, across a street and past the "no trespassing signs," down a path and a fairly steep slope, there was a creek that ran over rock and down the mountain. Other than the sound of water running over rock, and maybe the sound of the birds, there was only silence. The sunlight reflected through the trees onto the water in a way that was almost magical. I do not think many people knew about this place as there was never any evidence (other than the no trespassing sign) that anyone else had been there. For me, this was what some people call a thin place-a place where the divine and the human come close. I could sit there for a long time and know the presence of God. But, as is true of most holy places, I could not sit there forever. Eventually I had to get up and be on my way, renewed and ready for whatever the rest of the day held.
This church is also a holy place. Holy things happen here: sins are confessed and forgiven, the Risen Christ becomes present in bread and wine, people are welcomed into the Body of Christ through baptism, joined in marriage, and eternally united with Christ in death. In this place, we experience the wonder and mystery of something beyond ourselves, beyond our wildest imagination, and beyond our comprehension. This is a holy place, set apart for the worship of God, and a place where the human and divine come close.
In the reading from I Kings this morning, we hear about another holy place where the human and the divine come near, a place set also apart for the worship of God, as we hear Solomon dedicate the temple in Jerusalem. Solomon has built this temple as a house for God. The year is around 960 BCE. The temple is large and ornate, appropriate housing for the God of Israel who led the people out of bondage in Israel, through the wilderness, and into the Promised Land. In the verses just prior to our reading this morning, the priests bring the Ark of the Covenant into the temple and place it in the inner sanctuary, the most holy place in the temple. The Ark of the Covenant contains the tablets with the 10 commandments and they signify the very presence of God. The moment is so sacred that once the priests come out of the inner sanctuary, a cloud fills the house of the Lord as the glory of the Lord fills the temple. Then Solomon begins his prayer dedicating the house he has built to the God of Israel, which is our reading from I Kings. Solomon’s prayer recalls God’s abundant faithfulness to the people, and he prays that God will hear the prayers of all people that pray in this place so that all the peoples of the earth may know God’s name and fear God.
Yet even in the midst of Solomon’s eloquent prayer of dedication, Solomon wonders if God will indeed dwell on earth. Can the God who is not contained by heaven and the highest heaven be contained in a house, even the house that God requested that Solomon build? Can the God who wandered in the wilderness with the Hebrew people, and led them with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, actually be expected to live in a house, no matter how large or ornate? What does it mean for God to dwell in the temple? At the very least, for the Hebrew people, it meant that God could be encountered in the temple in a way that God could be encountered in no other place on the earth.
But will God indeed really dwell on the earth? In John’s gospel, we are told that in Jesus, God has chosen to dwell among us in a new way. John’s gospel, from which our gospel lesson comes this morning, begins with these words "In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was with God, and the Word was God." And a few verses later, the gospel says "And the Word became flesh and dwelled among us, full of grace and truth." In Solomon’s time and for generations thereafter, the people believed that God dwelled among them in a unique way by God’s presence in the temple Solomon built. When the temple was destroyed in the 6th century BC, the people feared that God had abandoned them. In John’s gospel, we are told that God dwelt among us in the person of Jesus, the Word made flesh. While the Hebrew people were concerned that when the Temple was destroyed, God ceased to be present among them, John’s gospel makes clear that in Jesus’ death and resurrection, God becomes even more present among us. In today’s gospel lesson, we hear Jesus say "Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood dwell in me and I in them." Through the bread and wine of the Eucharist, the Word that became flesh dwells within us and we encounter God in a unique way that transcends time and place and cannot be destroyed.
Holy places are places where we encounter the presence of God, where the divine and the human draw near. As powerful as those places might be, and as much meaning as those places might have, they are not places where we are meant to stay. Solomon asks "But will God indeed dwell on earth? Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house I have built." We do not claim that God can be contained here; quite the opposite. In holy places, whether the temple in Jerusalem in the 10th century BC, or in this holy place, or in the other places in our lives that we find holy, we practice encountering God so that when we leave our holy place, we can encounter God in the world. When we have experienced the presence of God here, we can recognize God in our parking lot on a hot Saturday afternoon as we offer hospitality to our neighbors, or at the Rainbow Table or IHN, or in our places of work, or in a random visit to the grocery. When we practice the experience of God in our holy places, we can more easily experience the presence of God in the midst of our grief and our challenges. The Word made flesh tells us that there is no where we can go that is beyond the presence of God. The holy places of our lives help us recognize that presence beyond these walls.
Amen.
Jim Beardsell
Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
August 19, 2012
When word of Jim’s death began to spread last weekend, from the stories I heard, I think pretty much everyone felt like they had lost a great friend, whether they had known Jim for most of their lives, or only a short time. Jim made us laugh. Jim gave us a shoulder to lean on. Jim gave us an encouraging word, or on occasion, a look that said more than words. But most of all, Jim made us feel welcome. When Don and I arrived in Springfield many years ago, with a three year old son in tow, Jim and Anita welcomed us and helped make all three of us feel at home here. Jim made it a point to get to know everyone whose life intersected with his, not because he wondered what they could do for him, but because he was interested and genuinely wanted to know everyone. Of course, if you were interested in football, that was icing on the friendship cake. Jim made his friends feel like family, and because of the way he talked about and loved his family, you feel like friends to us, even though many of us have just now met.
So we gather today to celebrate the long life of Jim Beardsell and Jim would be pleased to see his beloved family and so many of his friends all in the same place, singing the hymns he picked out. If we look around, we see all sorts of people here today-young and young at heart, conservative and liberal, gay and straight, black and white, members of different religious persuasions, and that doesn’t include the many people who wanted to be here today, but could not. Jim has brought together an amazing cross-section of the human family to celebrate his life because his life touched such a cross-section of people. And in this gathering, Jim’s life reflects something of the Kingdom of God and the Divine hospitality-the hospitality that embraces all and welcomes all people. Today we celebrate a life that has gathered us together and reminded us of the great welcome of the Kingdom of God.
As much as there is to celebrate this day, and as may Jim Beardsell stories as there are to share, we are also here to mourn Jim’s death. In the opening prayers, we asked God to grant Jim an entrance into the land of light and joy. In order for our loved ones to gain that entrance and pass through the gate of eternal life, we must lost them here on earth. That loss hurts, even when that loss represents the end of pain and suffering for Jim, even when we would not wish him back for a moment longer if that meant his suffering would continue. Even Jesus himself wept at the tomb of Lazarus, his friend. In our prayers this day, we pray for each other, that we may be consoled in our grief and be comforted in our sorrows. Our grief does not mean that our faith is not real. Our grief simply means that we have lost someone we love and that our lives will not be the same without him. Allow yourselves to grieve and know that, in the words of Paul in his letter to the Romans, even the deepest grief does not separate us from the love of God.
The most important reason we are here today is to celebrate Jim’s entry into eternal life. The reading from Isaiah says "Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength. The shall mount up with wings like eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint." Jim has waited. Jim was not afraid of death. He told me that, and I know he told some of you that. He believed that "neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation" could separate him from the love of God. He also firmly believed that "the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us.’ Ninety some years ago, in his baptism, Jim was joined with Christ in his death and resurrection. In his death early last Saturday morning, Jim was joined with Christ in new life and he was made new. In the gospel reading, Jesus tells us that he has gone ahead of us to prepare of a place for us, so that where he is, there we might also be. Jim has been welcomed into that place, where he can run and not be weary, where he is reunited with his loved ones who have gone before, where he has new people to meet, and where the whole great diversity of humankind is gathered.
Amen.
Christ Episcopal Church
August 19, 2012
Jim Beardsell
When word of Jim’s death began to spread last weekend, from the stories I heard, I think pretty much everyone felt like they had lost a great friend, whether they had known Jim for most of their lives, or only a short time. Jim made us laugh. Jim gave us a shoulder to lean on. Jim gave us an encouraging word, or on occasion, a look that said more than words. But most of all, Jim made us feel welcome. When Don and I arrived in Springfield many years ago, with a three year old son in tow, Jim and Anita welcomed us and helped make all three of us feel at home here. Jim made it a point to get to know everyone whose life intersected with his, not because he wondered what they could do for him, but because he was interested and genuinely wanted to know everyone. Of course, if you were interested in football, that was icing on the friendship cake. Jim made his friends feel like family, and because of the way he talked about and loved his family, you feel like friends to us, even though many of us have just now met.
So we gather today to celebrate the long life of Jim Beardsell and Jim would be pleased to see his beloved family and so many of his friends all in the same place, singing the hymns he picked out. If we look around, we see all sorts of people here today-young and young at heart, conservative and liberal, gay and straight, black and white, members of different religious persuasions, and that doesn’t include the many people who wanted to be here today, but could not. Jim has brought together an amazing cross-section of the human family to celebrate his life because his life touched such a cross-section of people. And in this gathering, Jim’s life reflects something of the Kingdom of God and the Divine hospitality-the hospitality that embraces all and welcomes all people. Today we celebrate a life that has gathered us together and reminded us of the great welcome of the Kingdom of God.
As much as there is to celebrate this day, and as may Jim Beardsell stories as there are to share, we are also here to mourn Jim’s death. In the opening prayers, we asked God to grant Jim an entrance into the land of light and joy. In order for our loved ones to gain that entrance and pass through the gate of eternal life, we must lost them here on earth. That loss hurts, even when that loss represents the end of pain and suffering for Jim, even when we would not wish him back for a moment longer if that meant his suffering would continue. Even Jesus himself wept at the tomb of Lazarus, his friend. In our prayers this day, we pray for each other, that we may be consoled in our grief and be comforted in our sorrows. Our grief does not mean that our faith is not real. Our grief simply means that we have lost someone we love and that our lives will not be the same without him. Allow yourselves to grieve and know that, in the words of Paul in his letter to the Romans, even the deepest grief does not separate us from the love of God.
The most important reason we are here today is to celebrate Jim’s entry into eternal life. The reading from Isaiah says "Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength. The shall mount up with wings like eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint." Jim has waited. Jim was not afraid of death. He told me that, and I know he told some of you that. He believed that "neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation" could separate him from the love of God. He also firmly believed that "the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us.’ Ninety some years ago, in his baptism, Jim was joined with Christ in his death and resurrection. In his death early last Saturday morning, Jim was joined with Christ in new life and he was made new. In the gospel reading, Jesus tells us that he has gone ahead of us to prepare of a place for us, so that where he is, there we might also be. Jim has been welcomed into that place, where he can run and not be weary, where he is reunited with his loved ones who have gone before, where he has new people to meet, and where the whole great diversity of humankind is gathered.
Amen.
15 Proper B
Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
August 19, 2012
We spend a lot of our time at Christ Church thinking about how we can make a difference in our community. Just this summer, we have hosted Reading Camp for children who have just finished second grade and struggle to read. On Christmas in July, we gather socks and underwear as gifts for the baby Jesus and children in Springfield without such basic items. And now we prepare for our annual Neighborhood Fair on Saturday-our gift to the neighborhood as we invite our neighbors for a free afternoon of games, prizes, food, and other activities. And August is our month to serve at the Rainbow Table, our ecumenical hot lunch on Fridays, and the Food Pantry operates every Wednesday all year long. Outreach and making a difference in our community are the foci of our live together at Christ Church and we would have it no other way.
Some weeks, however, like this one, our focus turns to serving each other, which is also an important part of our life together. There has been much to do this week with two funerals with receptions and one marriage blessing and reception, and several people sick and in need of care. And we have risen to the challenge. Not once this week have I asked anyone to do something and gotten "no" for an answer, and Sally Schwartz and I have done a LOT of asking. Just as with our outreach ministries, those who can bake have baked, those who can organize have organized, those who can comfort have comforted, those who can visit have visited, and on and on. When we all do what we can do, great things happen in this place.
And so, I have to confess that I stand here this morning on the brink of sinful pride at the way this church has come together to take care of each other this week. But the reading from I Kings keeps us humble. In that reading, we watch as God appears to Solomon in a dream and says "Ask what I should give you." Solomon does not ask for riches or power, but instead asks for an understanding mind and the ability to discern good from evil. God does as Solomon asks and Solomon is known through out history for his great wisdom.
But for some reason, the lectionary leaves out the two verses prior to our reading. In those verses, Solomon makes a marriage alliance with Pharaoh, King of Egypt, and he marries Pharaoh’s daughter. He finishes building his own house before building God’s house, which means the people had to make their sacrifices at the high places, the places of pagan worship, since they had no temple of their own. We are told that Solomon, too, sacrificed at the high places. Despite these actions that are most certainly not pleasing to God, God grants Solomon’s request for an understanding mind and the ability to discern good from evil. God goes even further and gives Solomon such riches and honor that no other king shall compare to Solomon. All of this seems rather odd, since we have jut been told that Solomon has done things that are despicable to God. God seems to have a bit of selective memory this morning!
God’s selective memory does not just apply to Solomon, however. We also hear God say about King David, Solomon’s father "If you will walk in my ways, keeping my statutes and commandments as your father David walked, then I will lengthen your life."
What part of the lectionary over the last few weeks has God forgotten? We have heard all about David’s affair with Bathsheba, how David tried to trick Uriah, Bathsheba’s husband, so that the child she conceived with David would look to be the child of her husband. We have heard how, when that plan failed, David had Uriah sent to the front lines of battle where he would no doubt be killed, and he was. And we heard of God’s anger at David and that God’s punishment of David would be visited upon his family yet unborn. David had done what is evil in the sight of God. Now we hear God say that David kept God’s statutes and commandments?
What are we to make of this bit of selective memory on God’s part?
I don’t know the correct answer to that question. However, I do see two helpful themes here as we think about our own work in the world and in this place. First, God obviously does not mind using flawed people to accomplish great things. In fact, God seems to seek them out. This is good news. David and Solomon were not perfect but they did love God, and that seems to be the real criteria for use by God. So, on the one hand, we know that God will use us despite our imperfections. On the other hand, our imperfections are no excuse for avoiding the work God has given us to do.
Secondly, God appears to Solomon in a dream. God asks Solomon what God should give him. God gives Solomon the wisdom for which Solomon is known. God gives Solomon the riches and honor Solomon enjoyed. God is the chief actor in this story, just as God is the chief actor in our individual stories and the story of our life together.
What we accomplish at Christ Church, both in our work to make a difference in the community and in our work to care for each other, is only possible because God uses imperfect people, us, to make a difference. David and Solomon are not role models for our actions, but they are role models of people who are open to God and are willing to offer themselves to God and let God work though them despite their imperfections. Realizing who works through us and whose work we do will keep us humble and focused as we seek to make a difference in the lives of each other and in the community.
Amen.
Christ Episcopal Church
August 19, 2012
15 Proper B
We spend a lot of our time at Christ Church thinking about how we can make a difference in our community. Just this summer, we have hosted Reading Camp for children who have just finished second grade and struggle to read. On Christmas in July, we gather socks and underwear as gifts for the baby Jesus and children in Springfield without such basic items. And now we prepare for our annual Neighborhood Fair on Saturday-our gift to the neighborhood as we invite our neighbors for a free afternoon of games, prizes, food, and other activities. And August is our month to serve at the Rainbow Table, our ecumenical hot lunch on Fridays, and the Food Pantry operates every Wednesday all year long. Outreach and making a difference in our community are the foci of our live together at Christ Church and we would have it no other way.
Some weeks, however, like this one, our focus turns to serving each other, which is also an important part of our life together. There has been much to do this week with two funerals with receptions and one marriage blessing and reception, and several people sick and in need of care. And we have risen to the challenge. Not once this week have I asked anyone to do something and gotten "no" for an answer, and Sally Schwartz and I have done a LOT of asking. Just as with our outreach ministries, those who can bake have baked, those who can organize have organized, those who can comfort have comforted, those who can visit have visited, and on and on. When we all do what we can do, great things happen in this place.
And so, I have to confess that I stand here this morning on the brink of sinful pride at the way this church has come together to take care of each other this week. But the reading from I Kings keeps us humble. In that reading, we watch as God appears to Solomon in a dream and says "Ask what I should give you." Solomon does not ask for riches or power, but instead asks for an understanding mind and the ability to discern good from evil. God does as Solomon asks and Solomon is known through out history for his great wisdom.
But for some reason, the lectionary leaves out the two verses prior to our reading. In those verses, Solomon makes a marriage alliance with Pharaoh, King of Egypt, and he marries Pharaoh’s daughter. He finishes building his own house before building God’s house, which means the people had to make their sacrifices at the high places, the places of pagan worship, since they had no temple of their own. We are told that Solomon, too, sacrificed at the high places. Despite these actions that are most certainly not pleasing to God, God grants Solomon’s request for an understanding mind and the ability to discern good from evil. God goes even further and gives Solomon such riches and honor that no other king shall compare to Solomon. All of this seems rather odd, since we have jut been told that Solomon has done things that are despicable to God. God seems to have a bit of selective memory this morning!
God’s selective memory does not just apply to Solomon, however. We also hear God say about King David, Solomon’s father "If you will walk in my ways, keeping my statutes and commandments as your father David walked, then I will lengthen your life."
What part of the lectionary over the last few weeks has God forgotten? We have heard all about David’s affair with Bathsheba, how David tried to trick Uriah, Bathsheba’s husband, so that the child she conceived with David would look to be the child of her husband. We have heard how, when that plan failed, David had Uriah sent to the front lines of battle where he would no doubt be killed, and he was. And we heard of God’s anger at David and that God’s punishment of David would be visited upon his family yet unborn. David had done what is evil in the sight of God. Now we hear God say that David kept God’s statutes and commandments?
What are we to make of this bit of selective memory on God’s part?
I don’t know the correct answer to that question. However, I do see two helpful themes here as we think about our own work in the world and in this place. First, God obviously does not mind using flawed people to accomplish great things. In fact, God seems to seek them out. This is good news. David and Solomon were not perfect but they did love God, and that seems to be the real criteria for use by God. So, on the one hand, we know that God will use us despite our imperfections. On the other hand, our imperfections are no excuse for avoiding the work God has given us to do.
Secondly, God appears to Solomon in a dream. God asks Solomon what God should give him. God gives Solomon the wisdom for which Solomon is known. God gives Solomon the riches and honor Solomon enjoyed. God is the chief actor in this story, just as God is the chief actor in our individual stories and the story of our life together.
What we accomplish at Christ Church, both in our work to make a difference in the community and in our work to care for each other, is only possible because God uses imperfect people, us, to make a difference. David and Solomon are not role models for our actions, but they are role models of people who are open to God and are willing to offer themselves to God and let God work though them despite their imperfections. Realizing who works through us and whose work we do will keep us humble and focused as we seek to make a difference in the lives of each other and in the community.
Amen.
Bettie Hicks
Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
August 17, 2012
Once upon a time, the Scriptures tell us, God created the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in it, and commanded the earth to bring forth every living creature. Then God created human kind in God’s own image. Bettie Hicks would probably argue that the living creatures were also made in God’s image because she certainly experienced something of God in animals as well as humans. The reading from Isaiah was chosen for today because of the way animals are used to reflect the peaceable kingdom of God and certainly her animals were one of the ways Bettie experienced that peace. But we are here today to celebrate Bettie’s life and our task is to celebrate the ways in which God’s image is revealed through Bettie. Each of us bears the image of God simply because we are human, and in each person we encounter, we see something of that image.
When Bill, Gretchen, and I sat down to plan this service and share stories about Bettie, I heard story after story about a woman who was patient and kind, and whose love, in the words of 1 Corinthians this morning, "bore all things, believed all things, hoped all things, endured all things." Bettie’s life was not always easy. I imagine loving was not always easy-there is nothing in the reading from I Corinthians or any place else in Scripture that says love is always easy. But even in adversity, the Bettie I knew was extraordinarily gracious, loved being around other people, and was forgiving and kind. Bettie had loved so long and so well, that to the end, she might not have known the name of the person sitting with her, or their relationship to her, but I’m sure she knew that the person was someone she loved. In Bettie, I believe we experienced something of the love of God and the love that the apostle Paul describes in the reading from I Corinthians. Today, we celebrate the whole long life of Bettie-a lifetime that teaches us much of what it manes to love fully.
As much as we gather today to celebrate Bettie’s life, we also gather to mourn her death. For some of us, perhaps, that mourning began a while back as Bettie, in the words from I Corinthians, began to see ever more dimly and to think more and more like a child. Tuesday a week ago, that process came to completion as Bettie’s long struggle came to an end and she left this world for the next. As much as we may be relieved that her suffering is over, our grief is real. We can rejoice and weep at the same time. The scriptures tell us that Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus, his friend. So we have no shame in shedding our own tears when we lose our loved ones. We pray for Bettie this day, not because we worry about where she is, but because we know that she continues her journey in a new place. We pray for each other, not because we are without hope, but because grief hurts and we continue our journey on earth without someone we love.
So we gather to celebrate a long, loving life and we gather to mourn the loss of a loved one. But we also gather to be reminded that while Bettie may have seen in a mirror dimly during her earthly life, she now sees face to face. While she knew only in part, now she knows fully, even as she has been fully known. In the gospel reading, Jesus tells us that he has gone to prepare a place for us to that where he is, there we may be also. When Bettie was baptized some 89 or so years ago, she was joined with Christ in his death and resurrection. When Bettie died Tuesday a week ago, she was joined with Christ in new life. Her body and her mind have been made new and the love which she practiced all her life has been made perfect. We were blessed to have her in our lives and to know a bit of God’s love through her and we will carry that love within us and honor Bettie’s life by practicing that love ourselves. Bettie is blessed to now see clearly, to know fully, and to love perfectly.
Amen.
Christ Episcopal Church
August 17, 2012
Bettie Hicks
Once upon a time, the Scriptures tell us, God created the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in it, and commanded the earth to bring forth every living creature. Then God created human kind in God’s own image. Bettie Hicks would probably argue that the living creatures were also made in God’s image because she certainly experienced something of God in animals as well as humans. The reading from Isaiah was chosen for today because of the way animals are used to reflect the peaceable kingdom of God and certainly her animals were one of the ways Bettie experienced that peace. But we are here today to celebrate Bettie’s life and our task is to celebrate the ways in which God’s image is revealed through Bettie. Each of us bears the image of God simply because we are human, and in each person we encounter, we see something of that image.
When Bill, Gretchen, and I sat down to plan this service and share stories about Bettie, I heard story after story about a woman who was patient and kind, and whose love, in the words of 1 Corinthians this morning, "bore all things, believed all things, hoped all things, endured all things." Bettie’s life was not always easy. I imagine loving was not always easy-there is nothing in the reading from I Corinthians or any place else in Scripture that says love is always easy. But even in adversity, the Bettie I knew was extraordinarily gracious, loved being around other people, and was forgiving and kind. Bettie had loved so long and so well, that to the end, she might not have known the name of the person sitting with her, or their relationship to her, but I’m sure she knew that the person was someone she loved. In Bettie, I believe we experienced something of the love of God and the love that the apostle Paul describes in the reading from I Corinthians. Today, we celebrate the whole long life of Bettie-a lifetime that teaches us much of what it manes to love fully.
As much as we gather today to celebrate Bettie’s life, we also gather to mourn her death. For some of us, perhaps, that mourning began a while back as Bettie, in the words from I Corinthians, began to see ever more dimly and to think more and more like a child. Tuesday a week ago, that process came to completion as Bettie’s long struggle came to an end and she left this world for the next. As much as we may be relieved that her suffering is over, our grief is real. We can rejoice and weep at the same time. The scriptures tell us that Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus, his friend. So we have no shame in shedding our own tears when we lose our loved ones. We pray for Bettie this day, not because we worry about where she is, but because we know that she continues her journey in a new place. We pray for each other, not because we are without hope, but because grief hurts and we continue our journey on earth without someone we love.
So we gather to celebrate a long, loving life and we gather to mourn the loss of a loved one. But we also gather to be reminded that while Bettie may have seen in a mirror dimly during her earthly life, she now sees face to face. While she knew only in part, now she knows fully, even as she has been fully known. In the gospel reading, Jesus tells us that he has gone to prepare a place for us to that where he is, there we may be also. When Bettie was baptized some 89 or so years ago, she was joined with Christ in his death and resurrection. When Bettie died Tuesday a week ago, she was joined with Christ in new life. Her body and her mind have been made new and the love which she practiced all her life has been made perfect. We were blessed to have her in our lives and to know a bit of God’s love through her and we will carry that love within us and honor Bettie’s life by practicing that love ourselves. Bettie is blessed to now see clearly, to know fully, and to love perfectly.
Amen.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
13 Proper B
Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
August 5, 2012
Every three years, the General Convention of the Episcopal Church meets and many decisions are made that garner all sorts of publicity as happened just last month. Every three years, at Christ Church, we gather up three years worth of pennies, and present them to the Church Periodical Club at General Convention. Those pennies are then used to purchase books and other forms of literature for ministries around the world. Last month, I had the privilege, as I did three years ago, to present the two miles of pennies which we have collected since 2009. Two miles of pennies is $1689.20, which is not exactly chump change. As important as the many decisions made at General Convention my be, I would like to think that our offering of pennies impacts lives as much as those decisions, even if in different ways. We have now presented 11 miles of pennies to the Church Periodical Club for this ministry, which totals 9290.60. That is a lot of pennies. Collecting pennies has become such a part of life at Christ Church, that I really don’t think very much about it. But the two times I have presented our check to the Church Periodical Club, the women there were amazed and wanted to know how we do this. All it takes, I tell them, is for every person to believe that each penny makes a difference.
For me, our pennies have become something of a parable about the body of Christ. In the three years between General Conventions, the pennies that I collect alone really do not make much of a difference toward a whole mile of pennies. In fact, my pennies make such a small difference that I am tempted to wonder why I should bother to save them at all. And if we all think that way, no pennies will ever get collected. But when we each save our pennies for three years, meager though each collection might be, together we make a huge difference in the lives of those who have no books to read. When we work together as a body, we can do amazing things. When we each work in isolation, we barely make a difference at all.
All of our readings this morning point to the fundamental truth that we are all connected and called together to build up the body. The reading from 2 Samuel illustrates what can happen when we fail to realize that we are all connected. In this reading from 2 Samuel, David realizes that his behavior has consequences that reach far beyond himself. David’s affair with Bathsheba is not a matter that will affect only the principle characters. David’s actions will have wide ranging consequences that will involve his yet unborn child, and his house for generations to come. While we might well argue that our God is not a God who visits the sins of the parents upon the children, and we are shocked at God’s harsh punishment for David’s sins, what the Hebrew scripture makes clear is that our actions sometimes have natural consequences that are inflicted upon the innocent. The people of God are one body, through out all generations, and our behavior affects those around us for better or for worse.
In the gospel reading, Jesus accuses those who are looking for him of following him because they ate their fill of loaves when Jesus and the disciples fed 5000 people with five loaves of bread and two fish. Jesus accuses the people of following him to satisfy their own hunger and perhaps to see what else Jesus can do for their own personal benefit. Jesus tells them that the miracle of the feeding of the 5000 points not to what Jesus can do for their own personal benefit, but to who God is and to God’s work in the world. God’s work in John’s gospel is not to feed individual bellies but to reconcile all people with God. To see Jesus’ miracles as an end in themselves that fill a hungry belly or heal a sick person is to miss the point of the Gospel. The miracles point to God, and God’s work in the world, not to a full belly.
Lastly, the letter to the Ephesians tells us that there are many gifts but the same spirit. Some of us are called to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, all to equip the saints for the work of ministry. To that list I wold add that some people are given the gift of hospitality, to others the gift of music, or outreach, or the ability to repair aging buildings. These gifts are not given to us for our own personal gain. No one of these gifts is adequate for the Body of Christ to work properly. All of these gifts are given and all of them are needed for the Body of Christ to build itself up in love and do the work we are given to do. In other places, Paul writes that when one member of the body hurts, all suffer, and that the body of Christ is made up of many members but is one body. There is no way around the fact that as Christians we are all knit together as one body, and that what one of us does affects all of us.
The temptation is always to think that what we have to offer as individuals is so little that we might as well not bother. I don’t sing well enough to make a difference in the choir or have enough pennies to make a difference in whether or not we reach a mile. The time I can offer to the Neighborhood Fair isn’t enough to make a different in the hospitality we offer our neighbors, or my lone vote at the annual meeting isn’t needed....the list goes on and on. The gospel tells us that what little we each have to offer is a gift from God and is essential to the Body of Christ if we are to build up the body in love and point to the Kingdom of God in our midst. The work of the body of Christ is not about what any one of us can do as individuals, but about how incredibly much all of us, working together as one, can do to build up the Kingdom of God. When in doubt about this fundamental truth, remember the parable of the pennies!
Amen.
Christ Episcopal Church
August 5, 2012
13 Proper B
Every three years, the General Convention of the Episcopal Church meets and many decisions are made that garner all sorts of publicity as happened just last month. Every three years, at Christ Church, we gather up three years worth of pennies, and present them to the Church Periodical Club at General Convention. Those pennies are then used to purchase books and other forms of literature for ministries around the world. Last month, I had the privilege, as I did three years ago, to present the two miles of pennies which we have collected since 2009. Two miles of pennies is $1689.20, which is not exactly chump change. As important as the many decisions made at General Convention my be, I would like to think that our offering of pennies impacts lives as much as those decisions, even if in different ways. We have now presented 11 miles of pennies to the Church Periodical Club for this ministry, which totals 9290.60. That is a lot of pennies. Collecting pennies has become such a part of life at Christ Church, that I really don’t think very much about it. But the two times I have presented our check to the Church Periodical Club, the women there were amazed and wanted to know how we do this. All it takes, I tell them, is for every person to believe that each penny makes a difference.
For me, our pennies have become something of a parable about the body of Christ. In the three years between General Conventions, the pennies that I collect alone really do not make much of a difference toward a whole mile of pennies. In fact, my pennies make such a small difference that I am tempted to wonder why I should bother to save them at all. And if we all think that way, no pennies will ever get collected. But when we each save our pennies for three years, meager though each collection might be, together we make a huge difference in the lives of those who have no books to read. When we work together as a body, we can do amazing things. When we each work in isolation, we barely make a difference at all.
All of our readings this morning point to the fundamental truth that we are all connected and called together to build up the body. The reading from 2 Samuel illustrates what can happen when we fail to realize that we are all connected. In this reading from 2 Samuel, David realizes that his behavior has consequences that reach far beyond himself. David’s affair with Bathsheba is not a matter that will affect only the principle characters. David’s actions will have wide ranging consequences that will involve his yet unborn child, and his house for generations to come. While we might well argue that our God is not a God who visits the sins of the parents upon the children, and we are shocked at God’s harsh punishment for David’s sins, what the Hebrew scripture makes clear is that our actions sometimes have natural consequences that are inflicted upon the innocent. The people of God are one body, through out all generations, and our behavior affects those around us for better or for worse.
In the gospel reading, Jesus accuses those who are looking for him of following him because they ate their fill of loaves when Jesus and the disciples fed 5000 people with five loaves of bread and two fish. Jesus accuses the people of following him to satisfy their own hunger and perhaps to see what else Jesus can do for their own personal benefit. Jesus tells them that the miracle of the feeding of the 5000 points not to what Jesus can do for their own personal benefit, but to who God is and to God’s work in the world. God’s work in John’s gospel is not to feed individual bellies but to reconcile all people with God. To see Jesus’ miracles as an end in themselves that fill a hungry belly or heal a sick person is to miss the point of the Gospel. The miracles point to God, and God’s work in the world, not to a full belly.
Lastly, the letter to the Ephesians tells us that there are many gifts but the same spirit. Some of us are called to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, all to equip the saints for the work of ministry. To that list I wold add that some people are given the gift of hospitality, to others the gift of music, or outreach, or the ability to repair aging buildings. These gifts are not given to us for our own personal gain. No one of these gifts is adequate for the Body of Christ to work properly. All of these gifts are given and all of them are needed for the Body of Christ to build itself up in love and do the work we are given to do. In other places, Paul writes that when one member of the body hurts, all suffer, and that the body of Christ is made up of many members but is one body. There is no way around the fact that as Christians we are all knit together as one body, and that what one of us does affects all of us.
The temptation is always to think that what we have to offer as individuals is so little that we might as well not bother. I don’t sing well enough to make a difference in the choir or have enough pennies to make a difference in whether or not we reach a mile. The time I can offer to the Neighborhood Fair isn’t enough to make a different in the hospitality we offer our neighbors, or my lone vote at the annual meeting isn’t needed....the list goes on and on. The gospel tells us that what little we each have to offer is a gift from God and is essential to the Body of Christ if we are to build up the body in love and point to the Kingdom of God in our midst. The work of the body of Christ is not about what any one of us can do as individuals, but about how incredibly much all of us, working together as one, can do to build up the Kingdom of God. When in doubt about this fundamental truth, remember the parable of the pennies!
Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)