8 Proper C

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
June 30,2013

8 Proper C

Most churches have websites these, and we know that many people look for a church by checking out websites before visiting. One of the occupational hazards of being a priest is that I do spend some time looking at the other churches online, both Episcopal churches as well as those of other denominations. And despite the many differences between churches, pretty much every church’s website, including our own, claims that their church is a place where everyone is welcome, the worship is vibrant and meaningful, the music is moving, the educational opportunities are thought-provoking, the fellowship is inclusive, the youth are active, and on and on. There is another website called the Ship of Fools, which is run by folks in the Church of England, that sends mystery worshiper out into churches to test the reality of such claims and report back, publically. Many of the mystery worshipers go to Episcopal Churches in this country and report back on everything from the friendliness of the church and the ability of a visitor to follow the service to the depth of the preaching, and even the quality of the coffee. The report can be brutal when the mystery worshiper finds that the church does not live up to the qualities claimed on their website. Most people are looking for a church that will encourage them when they struggle, remind them that they are a child of God when they feel like a failure, fill their hearts with joy when they are sad, and teach them about the faith. What church would ever advertize that following Jesus will demand that you give more than your receive, that you turn the other cheek, that you understand that the first really will be last, or give the very coat off your back? I have yet to find such a church website.

Jesus might just build that website, however. This morning, Jesus actually says to someone who wants to follow him "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." To someone who simply wants to bury his father before he follows Jesus, Jesus says "Let the dead bury their own dead," which seems rather heartless. And to another person who wants to follow Jesus but would like to say farewell to his family first, Jesus says "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the Kingdom of God." How does Jesus expect to attract any followers when he places such unrealistic demands on them?

We tend to respond in several ways to passages such as these where Jesus demands an all or nothing response. We can romanticize the passage and wax eloquently about giving up everything to follow Jesus, and then look for someone else to do that. We can simply blow Jesus off as unrealistic. After all, he did not have bills to pay. Or we can think of following Jesus as a worthy goal once the bills are paid, the kids are out of school, and our other obligations are satisfied, which, of course, will probably never happen. Taking Jesus seriously is difficult when he is so demanding.

I believe the two crucial words in this gospel lesson are the two little words "But first." "But first let me go bury my father." "But first let me say farewell to those at home." Neither burying one’s father nor saying farewell to those at home are bad things. The problem was not the acts themselves. The problem was the "but first." Jesus calls us to turn our "but firsts" upside down, and to follow him first, rather than following once there is room on the calendar. If we wait to follow Jesus until the time when all our obligations are fulfilled, we are not really following Jesus. We are asking Jesus to follow us. Following Jesus means going where Jesus goes, and making Jesus our "but first." Yes, we have to fulfill our financial obligations, but Jesus asks that following him be the framework into which those obligations fit, not vice versa. Yes, we have obligations to our families, to our jobs, and to our communities, but Jesus asks that our commitment to follow him be the "but first" not vice versa. Jesus calls us not to abandon our responsibilities, but to radically reorient our lives so that he is our "but first" and to trust that all the obligations of our earthly life will follow and fit into place when we follow him.

In the reading from Galatians, Paul reminds us that this life of following Jesus and making Jesus our "but first" is actually a life of radical freedom. Freedom, says Paul, is not an opportunity for self-indulgence. True freedom, according to Paul, is not the freedom to do whatever we please, whenever we want to do it. That kind of freedom actually holds us hostage to our calendars and our earthly obligations. The freedom Jesus offers is the freedom to become servants to one another, through love. For Paul, the test of whether or not Jesus is our "but first" and we are truly free is whether our lives produce the fruits of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, self-control, faithfulness, and generosity.

Jesus is not looking for followers who are irresponsible with regard to their earthly obligation, nor is he asking his followers to go any place he is not willing to go first. What Jesus is asking of those who wish to follow him is that they make him their "but first" and say to all of our earthly obligations "But first, I follow Jesus."

Amen.

7 Proper C

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
June 23, 2013

7 Proper C

A couple of weeks ago, I was the chaplain at Procter Camp for 4^th and 5^th grader camp. The week was full of songs, games, new friends, swimming, and other activities, but for the adult staff, the most memorable part of the week was none of the above. The most memorable part of the week was the storm that did not happen. Sure, we had a great thunderstorm in the middle of the night, but the predicted storm, the derecho, the storm predicted to spawn tornados and knock out power to a large part of the mid-west did not happen, at least not in the cornfields south of London, Ohio. All day on Wednesday, we watched the radar and read the weather reports and made our plan to keep our 45 young campers safe. We had a plan for what to do if the storm blew in quickly, as such a storm does, and the children were out playing. We had a plan for what to do if the storm hit in the middle of the night. We had a plan for activities to help keep the children distracted if we had to ride out the storm in a small enclosed space. Keeping the children safe was our number one concern and when we went to bed that night we all fully expected to see each other again before daylight when the storm hit. None of us slept particularly well, waiting for our cell phones to ring, and we were all thrilled the next morning when nothing other than a good thunderstorm had passed by.

The readings from I Kings and Luke don’t seem at first glance to have much to do with safety. The story of the Gerasene demoniac has something to offend just about anyone, but does not seem to be about safety. For those who prefer that the gospel not sound like a scene straight from The Exorcist, or Stigmata, this is a difficult reading. In as much as this reading appears to equate mental illness with demon possession, we are likewise offended. For those who work to protect the rights of animals, the thought that Jesus would cast a legion of demons into a herd of pigs is offensive. For those who are concerned about the livelihood of workers, with the loss of the pigs, Jesus has put an end to the income of the swineherders. All the way around, this is a difficult story.

The most curious part of the story, however, comes at the very end and has little to do with demon possession. If we put aside for a moment our reservations about demon possession, our concern for animals, or the known causes of mental illness, what we hear is a story about a man who is healed of a terrible affliction, an affliction that causes him to be completely cut-off from his community, his family, and even himself. We see the man who once could not be contained with chains and shackles, sitting calmly at Jesus’ feet. We see the man who had for a long time worn no clothes, now fully clothed and his dignity restored. We see a man who was once tormented beyond comprehension now thinking clearly. And we hear the man who was healed ask, even beg, to follow the one who has given him this great gift. And the logical answer to this understandable request is "yes." But Jesus says "No." "No, return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you." When the demons beg Jesus to let them enter the herd of swine rather than be ordered back into the abyss, Jesus says "yes." When the people in the surrounding country were seized with great fear and ask Jesus to leave, Jesus says "yes." When the healed man begs to follow Jesus, Jesus says "no." How does Jesus expect to get more followers if he won’t let people follow him?

I think the healed man wants to follow Jesus because following Jesus is safer than returning home. No doubt his wife had left him, and his children wanted nothing to do with him. We are told that the people were seized with great fear and there is no telling what they were saying about him. The owners of the pigs could not possibly be happy with him as they had just lost their livelihood on his behalf. The reality is that there is no happy homecoming in store for this man. The safe option is to leave his country and follow Jesus.

Elijah is also looking for the safe option this morning. Unlike the man in the gospel story, Elijah’s life has been going pretty well until recently. God had sustained Elijah through a drought, used Elijah as a vessel through which God raised a widow’s son from the dead, and led Elijah to victory in a battle with 850 priests of Baal and Asherah. Elijah’s resume is looking pretty good at the moment. This morning we hear Jezebel pledge to her husband, King Ahab, that Elijah will be dead in 24 hours, so Elijah flees for his life, first into the wilderness, then to a cave on Mount Horeb, where Moses had long ago spoken with God. When God says "What are you doing here, Elijah?," God is not asking a polite question about Elijah’s travel plans. God’s question is more like catching your child at the mall when he is supposed to be at school. Full of self-righteousness and more than a little self-pity, Elijah tells God that he is the only faithful Israelite left and that his life is in danger. God tells Elijah to go stand on the mountain, but Elijah cowers in the cave during a great wind, an earthquake, and a fire . Finally, the sound of sheer silence draws Elijah out of the cave. We are not told what Elijah was expecting God to say, but God asks Elijah again, in the same tone of voice, "What are you doing here?" And again, Elijah tells God that he is the only faithful Israelite left, and they are seeking his life, to take it away. If Elijah is expecting any sympathy from God, he is sorely disappointed, for God says "Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus." Elijah is not being sent back to the country from which he came, but he is being sent on, away from the safety of the mountain, to continue the work God has given him to do.

Keeping children safe from a storm is one thing. Trying to protect ourselves from God’s call on our lives while maintaining the appearance of faithfulness is an entirely different matter. Both Elijah and the once-possessed man seek the safe route. Both of the safe routes appear to be faithful options. Elijah goes to the holy mountain on which Moses spoke with God. That is certainly a faithful place to be. The healed man wants to follow Jesus. That, too sounds like a quite faithful option. But in both cases, the answer was no, and both men were sent off to bear witness to God’s work in the world.

The safe option often has the appearance of being the faithful option. Left to my own devices, I will take the safe option every time, especially if that option has the appearance of being faithful. But Jesus does not call us to follow him because he wants to ensure our safety. In another place in Luke’s gospel, Jesus says "For those who want to save their life will lose it and those who lose their life for my sake will save it." The faithful choice, for Elijah, the man once possessed by demons, and for us, is to take a risk and make a difference for the Kingdom of God.

Amen.

Rick Incorvati and Kent Brooks

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
June 15, 2013

Rick Incorvati and Kent Brooks

Today we are gathered in this church to witness and bless the lifelong covenant of Rick and Kent. Today is important for Rick and Kent because today they become a new creation, as they make their public commitment to each other and receive the blessing of God and the Church. They have waited a long time for this day, 18 years, in fact, and many of you have waited with them. We gather to bless a lifelong covenant and a relationship based in the love that will lay down his life for the other, a relationship in which the joy of God dwells, and a relationship that has born much fruit as the love they have for each other cannot be contained and spills out into the world to make a difference in the lives of their family, friends, and community. Today Rick and Kent promise to love and honor each other, forsaking all others, for as long as they both shall live.

Today is also important for the rest of us, those who are gathered here, in this place, and the many people who could not be here, but wanted to be. Today is important for us because today we get to publically state that the love of God working through the two of you, together, has made an impact on our lives, that we have seen the fruit born of your relationship, and in your love for each other, we experience something of the love of God that will lay down his life for a friend. Today, we are not simply spectators, watching as you make this commitment to each other. We are participants. In a few minutes, you will hear us promise to uphold and honor you, respect the covenant you make this day, to pray with you in times of trouble and celebrate with you in times of joy. Hold us to those promises.

Today is important because today we all gather to honor Jesus’ command that we love one another as Jesus has loved us. When Jesus was nearing the end of his earthly life, Jesus had one command for his disciples. Jesus does not command them to agree with each other, or give them a list of beliefs they must hold to be his followers. Jesus tells them to love each other as he has loved them-with love that will lay down life for each other, that will express the joy of God, and that bears much fruit. By this love the world will know that they are Jesus’ disciples. The fulfillment of that command in their lifelong covenant is what we recognize in Kent and Rick as they come before the church today. Their commitment to that command in their lifelong covenant is what we promise to uphold and honor this day. On this day, Jesus says to Rick and Kent "Abide in my love."

Amen

5 Proper C

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
June 9, 2013

5 Proper C

Some years ago now, Christ Church was privileged to participate in the London Prison Work program. Two or three times a year, for a week or two at a time, a work crew from the London prison would come to Christ Church and paint, plaster, scrub, or anything else we needed them to do. Other than the walls in this worship space, they painted pretty much every other flat surface in this building. All we had to do was provide tools, supplies, and food-lots of food. The men were always grateful for the food, and over time, we learned what they liked to eat. They loved anything where they had a choice as they had few choices to make in prison. The luxury of choosing whether to have a hamburger or a hotdog, or what to put on the hamburger, or what kind of pizza they liked or sub they wanted was almost overwhelming to them. We never knew what crimes had been committed, but all the men had served significant time in jail. From our perspective, the men worked hard and were so pleasant and respectful that, aside from the institutional shirt, we would never guess the guys were in prison. One time, one of our parishioners got wind of the fact that one of our guests had a birthday that week. I am not sure who was more delighted-the parishioner who got to provide the birthday cake, or the person who had not had a birthday cake in 8 years. Before we started having the workers at Christ Church, I knew in theory that, as Jesus says in Matthew’s gospel, when we feed the hungry, visit those in prison, or welcome the stranger, we feed, visit, and welcome Jesus. But having welcomed the prisoner at Christ Church, I know for a fact that Jesus shows up here in some of the last places I would have thought to look.

We hear a curious story in today’s reading from I Kings. Elijah, the prophet of God, is told by God to go to Zarephath because God has commanded a widow to feed him. Right away, there are two odd things about this turn of events. First, God sends Elijah, an Israelite, to Zarephath. Zarephath is not in Israel and the widow is not an Israelite. Secondly, God sends Elijah to a widow who will give him something to eat. Widows were on the margins of society, with few, if any resources, and would be unlikely to have any food to spare for a total stranger.

So, we are just one sentence into the story, and God already has our attention. Elijah finds the widow and asks, or more accurately demands, a morsel of bread. The widow’s reply is that she has only a little bit of meal and oil. She is going home to cook it up so that she and her son may lie down to die. At that point, a word of encouragement from Elijah would be nice. But no, he tells her to go and do what she said, which, remember, involved going home to lie down and die, but first make him a little cake and bring it back to him. A little sensitivity training would be in order here!

Then the widow is promised a miracle: the jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail until the drought, caused the by the evil actions of King Ahab, has ended. And sure enough, the starvation of the widow and her son was prevented. And one would hope that they all lived happily ever after.

But then the widow’s son becomes deathly ill. Somehow this is Elijah’s fault, even though Elijah just saved both the widow and her son from starvation. "What have you against me, O man of God? You have come to me to bring my sin to remembrance, and to cause the death of my son." Someone seems to have a guilty conscience! Elijah then blames God for the child’s death, but God hears Elijah’s prayer and the child was revived. Two miracles in these 16 verses of scripture, and the beneficiary of those miracles was not an Israelite.

In our lectionary, this story is paired with a similar story from Luke’s gospel in which Jesus raises the son of the widow of Nain. However, earlier in Luke’s gospel, there is a direct reference to the story of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath. In that story, Jesus has just read verses from the prophet Isaiah that echo our psalm this morning. Psalm 146 praises the God who executes justice for the oppressed, gives food to the hungry, sets the prisoners free, opens the eyes of the blind, and lifts up those who are bowed down. In chapter 4 of Luke’s gospel, Jesus reads from the prophet Isaiah and says "The spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free." Everyone thinks Jesus is the greatest hometown boy ever, until Jesus reminds the crowds that about the story of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath. That widow, the non-Israelite, was the only person to whom Elijah was sent during a time of great drought and famine. A non-Israelite, who didn’t even believe in the God of the Hebrews, was the one whose prayers were answered in time of grave hardship. The crowd is furious. They are livid at the thought that their long awaited salvation, their miracle, for which they have prayed so hard, might go to someone else. In their anger, the people drive the very author of salvation out of town and want to throw him off a cliff.

We all want our miracles. We pray for healing for ourselves or loved ones. The crowd’s reaction to Jesus may have been a bit extreme, but I can resonate with feelings of jealousy, frustration, and grief when my prayers don’t seem to be answered for my loved ones and someone else’s prayers do seem to be answered. A part of me can understand those who said "The widow of Zarephath?  Seriously? What does she have that we don’t?"

As I look back at that story, I think there is an overlooked miracle. The first miracle in the story may well be that the widow welcomed Elijah at all, that she was willing to take the risk and make him a little loaf of bread with her small amount of oil and meal. Certainly Elijah was the last person one would mistake for a person of God if one was looking for such a person, which the widow of Zarephath . He had been hiding in the wilderness from King Ahab and was no doubt dirty, smelly, unkempt and clearly lacked the social graces. Think John the Baptist, only worse. But the widow had no preconceived notion of what a person of God would look like, or act like, and certainly no expectation of a miracle. Her small miracle allowed God’s miracle to work. In the story from Luke’s gospel which recalls the story of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath, the people had a pretty well conceived idea of how God was supposed to work, and when it looked like God might work some other way, they were angered. We want God to do what we want God to do so badly, that perhaps we miss what God is doing before our very eyes. The sheer delight in something so simple as a hot meal or a birthday cake conveys the grace of God in a way more powerful than words, even if they don’t commute a prison sentence. Strangers and loved ones show up to walk a journey with us that they cannot fix, but can make more bearable. An gesture of hospitality made turns out to be a gesture of hospitality received. An encounter with a worker from a prison turns out to be an encounter with Jesus. Perhaps the widow’s blessing, which we sometimes lack, is that she had absolutely no idea, much less a fixed idea, of what God was supposed to do in her life, but was willing to offer hospitality to a stranger. Through that act of hospitality, God created a miracle.

Amen.

Procter Camp Sunday

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
June 2, 2013

2 Pentecost C-Procter Sunday

Last Sunday, as many of you know, Don and I were at our son Slocomb’s wedding. The wedding was at Procter Camp and was a wonderful celebration of both Slocomb and Leslie’s love and commitment to each other, and of the communities that raised them and brought them to this point in their lives. Certainly, for Slocomb, Procter Camp has been an important part of that journey. He was a camper for a number of summers, on the grounds crew one summer, was a counselor for three summers, and has arranged his calendar around family camp ever since. Once Leslie became a part of his life, she became a family camper, arranging her summer around a trip to Procter each year. So when the time came to pick a spot for their wedding, Procter was a natural choice. Procter had the ambiance, the memories, the friendships, and the unique Procter experience of God they wanted for their wedding.

Coincidentally, today is Procter Sunday at Christ Church. Each year on or about the first Sunday in June, the Procter Summer Camp staff comes to Christ Church with their music and stays for coffee hour to talk with both adults and children about Procter Camp. The counselors talk about the games we play at Procter, the food we eat, the unique way that we say or sing the blessings for the meals, and the way we engage the children in worship and Christian formation activities. But the reason I invite the camp staff year after year has nothing to do with the great activities at camp, or the good food, or the meaningful worship, as wonderful as all of those things are. This will be my 16^th summer at Procter Camp as a chaplain. As a priest, and as a parent for that matter, I am committed to Procter Camp for yet another reason.

In all three of our readings this morning, God’s people are wrestling with the question "How do we know what is of God." In the reading from I Kings, the people want to know whether Baal or the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is the real God. What is of God and what is not? The people in I Kings figure this out by preparing two bulls. The people of Baal call upon their god and the Israelites call upon the God of their ancestors, and the god that answers with fire is, indeed, God. While we might often wish for a way to determine what is of God and what is not that is this simple and straightforward, animal sacrifice is not part of our contemporary decision making process.

In the reading from Galatians, the apostle Paul is livid with the Galatian Christians. Paul founded the church in Galatia, a Gentile Church, and converted them directly to Christianity, teaching them that they are a new creation in Christ and do not have to follow the Jewish law in order to become Christians. But after Paul left, other Christians came to Galatia and taught the Galatians that they must first become Jews before becoming Christians. The Galatians believed them and turned their backs on the gospel Paul had preached, believing that they must follow the Jewish laws and dietary regulations in order to be followers of Jesus, the Jewish Messiah. Paul is furious and I imagine the Galatians are confused. How are the Galatians to know what is of God and what is not?

In the gospel reading, we hear of the faith of the Roman centurion as he seeks healing from Jesus for his slave. The Roman Centurion’s faith is so deep that he does not need Jesus to come to his house. If Jesus only speaks the word, even from a distance, the Centurion knows that his slave will be healed. How does he know that? How does this Roman know to send word to Jesus? How does he know that Jesus is not just another false prophet? How does this Roman know what is of God and what is not?

How do we know what is of God and what is not? The reality is that we spend our lifetimes working on this question. Sometimes we are successful and sometimes we are less so. But while we do not have a ritual like the people in I Kings, we certainly do have tools to help us on this journey. These tools are things like Scripture, prayer, communities of faith and the experiences of others, and practice. When we make big decisions, and try to determine what is of God and what is not, we do not make those decisions in a vacuum. We do so with prayer, in consultation with trusted family and friends, based on our understanding of Scripture, and over time, we get more and more practice figuring out what is of God and what is not.

I am a supporter of Procter Camp because at Procter Camp we live together for a week and as a community, we practice using the tools of our faith to answer this most basic question. When we want our children to become better athletes, we send them to sports camps in the summer where they have a chance to practice their skills with experienced coaches, ask questions about the game, learn how to handle situations as they come up, and become better players. When we want our children to become better musicians or more fluent in a foreign language, likewise we sent them to those camps, where they practice their skills, learn from each other and experienced teachers, learn how to recover from mistakes, and have some fun along the way. Do our children come home from a week of soccer camp, or language camp, or band camp a perfect player? Of course not. They continue with weekly lessons and lots of practice. So, when we want our children to be better Christians, to be better able to determine what is of God and what is not, we provide them with a safe place and a week of living in Christian community to learn from each other and experienced teachers, to practice, to learn how to admit mistakes and ask forgiveness, to learn to use the tools of our tradition-prayer, scripture, community-to discern what is of God and what is not. Will we send your child home as a perfectly formed Christian? No. Will your child still need weekly lessons and lots of practice? Yes, just like all of us. And we are called as a congregation to be a community of faith that provides that ongoing opportunity for practice.

What is of God and what is not? The people in the Bible teach us that answering this question is not always easy. We will make mistakes along the way. We will need experienced teachers to guide us and communities of faith in which to practice. And over and over again, Scripture reminds us that God loves us simply because we are God’s children, and what God asks is that we practice being those children.

Amen.

Pentecost

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
May 19, 2013

The Feast of Pentecost

*This past Christmas Eve, I had the opportunity to sing with our Christ Church choir-an opportunity that does not happen often due simply to logistics, but one which I enjoy tremendously. The anthem was "What Sweeter Music" by Anglican composer John Rutter, which the rest of the choir may not have found terribly difficult, but I certainly did. The piece has 5 vocal parts, as best as I could tell, a string quartet accompaniment, and some a capella sections. The truth is that, despite the best efforts of a wonderful teacher, the art of reading music utterly escapes me. As much as I love to sing, I cannot read a note of music. When Chris (the choir director) so patiently says, "no, that’s a C," I have no idea what sound he would like me to produce, but apparently not the one I just made. I like the soprano line because most of the time, that is the melody line, perfect for someone who does not read music and needs the accompaniment to know what to sing.

From what I could tell, the Rutter piece had no melody line. There is a brief part that does repeat several times, but in my book that does not count as a melody. For someone who relies on the accompaniment to know where she is supposed to be in the midst of the many notes being sung, a capella is a bit of a challenge. Over and over again, we rehearsed the piece. And over and over again, we rehearsed the individual parts. Much to my great astonishment, the parts did not sound good individually. Because there was no real melody line, even the two soprano parts did not sound all that good alone. But together, all the parts came together in a way that was breathtaking. My brief choir career reminded me of three things. One: We are much better together than we are apart. Two: Together we triumph over the shortcomings of any one person. And three: A lot of work, patience, and deep respect for one another are required to come together well.

Pentecost Sunday reminds me of my Christmas Eve choir experience. This morning, we see the disciples gathered together and we watch the Holy Spirit descend upon them. We ponder what the tongues of fire might have felt like when they landed upon the disciples heads. We listen as the gift of the Holy Spirit gives the disciples the ability to speak in languages they do not know so that everyone can hear the good news in a language they understand. And we might wonder what Pentecost has to do with us.

First, the Holy Spirit came to the disciples when they were gathered together, rather than coming to individual people in separate places all at the same time. The disciples were in Jerusalem for the Jewish feast of Pentecost, which celebrates the giving of the Law to Moses on Mt. Sinai. They were gathered together, presumably waiting for the baptism with the Holy Spirit that Jesus had promised them before his ascension. They are waiting expectantly, even though they appear to have no idea what they are waiting for. When the Holy Spirit descended, she descended upon the gathered community and gave the gathered community the ability to make the gospel heard and understood by all people. Secondly, the gift of the Holy Spirit was given, not for any one person’s use or benefit, but so that everyone could hear and understand the good news of Jesus. The disciples did not individually benefit from this gift-in fact, many of them would wind up in jail or worse for their efforts. The gift of the Spirit was to benefit the world as the disciples proclaimed the gospel, healed the sick, and even raised the dead. The gift of the Spirit was not intended to point to the abilities of the individual, but to point to the work of God in the world.

Lastly, as the story unfolds in Acts, and the work is hard, and not everyone agrees or plays fair, and people wind up in jail, or shipwrecked, or martyred, we are reminded of Jesus’ words in John’s gospel. Jesus has commanded the disciples to love one another as he has loved them. Jesus has told the disciples that the world will know they are Jesus’ followers by their love for each other. Now we hear Jesus remind them yet again "If you love me, you will keep my commandments" and Jesus commandment is that they love one another. Love includes respect and patience. The gift of the Holy Spirit is what makes this love possible and creates a community where everyone works together to use their gifts for a common purpose.

In a few moments, we will reaffirm our baptismal covenant. In that covenant, first we proclaim our faith, using the ancient baptismal creed of the church, the Apostles’ Creed. Then we are asked how we will proclaim that faith with our lives. The five questions ask us how we, as a body, will use our gifts to build up the Body of Christ and proclaim the good news to the world. There is no way any one of us can keep those promises alone. In fact, our reply to each question is "I will, with God’s help." We depend on God and each other in order to be the Body of Christ in the world. We affirm our baptismal covenant on Pentecost to recommit ourselves to the promises we made in baptism and to recommit ourselves to living as people who are bound together by the Holy Spirit to be God’s people in the world. As we renew the promises that we made in baptism, Pentecost reminds us that God will take all that we, together, have to offer, send the Spirit to be among us, and turn our offering into more than we could ask or imagine, to make the love of God known in the world.

Amen.

*This story also told at the Installation of Michael Way, January 8, 2013 in Red Wing, Minnesota.