On terrible suffering and death . . . and our Lord's promises to us! (Todd White funeral)

      I suppose, by way of introduction, I should explain why you are all here today, instead of at a funeral home, remembering your friend, Todd.  First of all, my name is Brian McVey.  I was rector of St. Alban’s Episcopal Church for 8 ½ years, and I was the White’s priest.  OK.  I see a few looks of surprise, but not too many.  Good.  Yes, Todd was an active member of this parish when I served here.  When I say active, of course, I don’t just mean he showed up occasionally.  Todd was one of the manly men, as we liked to joke around here, who made sure food was distributed not just in this neighborhood, but to churches that fed people in Western Illinois, other communities in eastern Iowa, and even southern Wisconsin.  We hold it axiomatic that we never know how far acts of kindness and obedience to God might go, but Todd was one of those men who made sure that thousands of families that suffered from food insecurity, were fed by dragging himself out of bed early on Saturday mornings, come rain or snow or shine.  That was his serious work, as far as I was concerned.

     Todd, though, had a playful streak.  In some ways, he was the kid who never really grew up.  Terri might not remember, but I will probably always picture Todd and John on the roof during waters wars in my mind.  Imagine 60-70 kids running around outside in the field over there, and Todd . . . err, John, armed with a slingshot of sorts and dozens of water balloons.  Everyone is laughing because they know who the real instigator was!  Every time Todd nailed a kid with a slingshotted balloon, he’d high five John and hold his hands out and make that face which Terri loved!  I can see that some of you do it better.  I have not seen it in seven years, so I am a bit out of practice.

     Todd also was a guy who was serious about hospitality.  I have to confess, Terri, I am glad to have learned the reasons behind the bumble bee costume and crazy dancing in your yard.  With Todd, one never knew; and truth be told, I was afraid to ask about it.  LOL.  But Todd would, probably only four days a week, wave at me with a beer as I drove by, usually with my kids on the way home from school, inviting me to stop and have one with him.  He’d fuss from time to time that I never stopped to have beers.  I’d remind Todd I was bringing all my kids home from school and probably getting ready to run to another meeting or something.  Time was my issue.  And Todd had some four-letter words of wisdom about me paying attention to my time.  Of course, when it was serious, Todd would come over to chat in the office.

     So, when I heard from the people I had served in the parish about everything that had happened to the family, I made the offer to come up from my parish in Nashville, assuming the priest’s permission, and celebrate at Todd’s service.  And truthfully, what else could I do?  You have had enough tragedies in your life these last couple months to rival Job.  First Maddie dying.  Then the house fire.  Most everything was lost, especially the memorabilia and your dogs.  Then Todd’s untimely death.  Then the wreck.  Now Terri and the girls find themselves in a strange home, with half the family literally gone, with much of what was familiar gone, and no fawning pups to make it all better.  Terri made the comment this weekend that she felt a bit uncomfortable about the idea of hold a service here because it had been so long.  It has been.  Two weeks will mark seven years that I have been gone.  And a lot happens in seven years.  But, as we all know, a lot more can happen in the blink of an eye.

     Although perhaps Terri and Todd were not keeping good track of those with whom they served in this parish, the parish was certainly keeping track of and praying for them.  As each of these tragedies unfolded, more and more former parishioners reached out to ask me where God was in this mess.  What you visitors do not know, the more to this story, is that the current priest has been battling brain cancer for some time, and only recently decided to cease treatment.  She has fought the good fight, but barring a healing miracle, she will likely lose this life to cancer.  The parish is without their leader, in some ways, and the pastoral care you require needs a leader in their minds.  Part of my job will be to remind us all that we have the Leader and that He will give us what we need to minister to one another, and to the world, in light of such tragedies, trusting in both His promises and power to redeem all suffering, even suffering as seemingly hopeless as this.

     Those of you visiting an Episcopal Church might be a bit surprised by our seating and the symbols you see and, perhaps, unsure what to expect.  I am assuming that some of you are still worried that the roof might collapse at any moment because Terri dropped an f-bomb or three when she spoke of Todd before the service began.  Yes, I know.  And the priest didn’t try and muzzle her or chew her out for her language.  What is happening here?  First of all, this is no longer my church.  If the lightning bolt hits, I don’t have to file the insurance claims.  LOL  More importantly, though, her language, while perhaps not used in polite company too often, spoke to the hopelessness and frustration and anger and bitterness and other unsatisfied emotions we all feel this day about Todd’s untimely death.  Our Lord Christ ministered among fishermen.  As I once reminded Todd when he asked me questions about language, I don’t know many fishermen who speak in “thee, thou, and vouchsafe” language.  Todd laughed at that and told me stories about his fishing buddies.  Don’t worry.  I don’t remember the names.  But if you cringed at the idea of Todd talking to me about you, you could probably still use a good Confession and Absolution, even if not for your language with Todd.  That’s a sermon for another day, though.  Lol.  No, one of the great mistakes a pastor can make with Todd, I found out firsthand, was to teach him that swearing was not a sin.  Watching the elbow nudges and seeing your expressions, I am guessing you experienced Todd’s “earthy” language for yourself.  Sin and manners are different, and earthy language is not always welcome around kids, especially at church, but Todd figured out a way to be himself, to serve God around here, and not teach little kids words they did not need to know too soon.

     As you entered searching for a seat in the back, some of you were disturbed to find out that this is a church in the round.  It is great for services such as this, but no bride in her right mind dreams of walking down that truncated aisle.  Of course, next to Todd’s cremains is the Pascal Candle.  That Candle is lit during the Easter Season, and at other times of the year but especially funerals, reminding all baptized Christians that we are baptized into Christ’s death and Resurrection and empowered by the Holy Spirit to carry His light into a dark world that rejects Him and those who serve Him.  Appropriate for our gathering today, we see one of the signs of Advent, the wreath.  Similar to the Pascal Candle, the Advent wreath reminds us of the Light of Christ entering the darkness of the world.  I serve at an Advent parish now, and I am always reminded and reminding that we look back at the Light who came into the world at Christmas even as we look forward to His promised Return while we remind ourselves of His presence among us.  If ever there was a set of tragedies that needed to be named for their darkness but seen in light of God’s promises, these are they.  Terri and all you who loved Todd, those candles remind us that these evils will be redeemed.  Make no mistake, they will likely not be redeemed in the way we want or as quickly as we want, but they will be redeemed.  As sure as He came out of that tomb when it first appeared the darkness had won and condemned Him to death, one glorious Day, all of this will be like that strawberry we got learning to ride a bike or that fishhook in the fleshy part of our thumb.  But today is not that day.  Today, and for days and weeks and months and years to come, is the time that we carry our hope in Christ into the world that desperately needs to hear and believe.

     And, before I go any further, we need to do a bit of spiritual vaccination.  I hope everyone is used to vaccines now that we are more than eighteen months into a pandemic.  This one should not hurt as much as those.  Terri, first and foremost, this was NOT part of God’s plan.  If anyone tells you that God wanted this to happen to Maddie, to Todd, to you and the kids or even the dogs, tell them to fuck off.  I cannot emphasize enough how much tragedies like this are NOT part of God’s plan.  God’s plan was that we would choose to trust Him and live in full communion with Him.  But we revolted.  We sinned.  And that walking and talking with unfettered access with Him had to stop for our own good.  We brought sin into the world.  We do well to remember that.  Just as we do well to remember that God has promised to redeem all things in our lives, thanks to our faith in the work and person of Jesus Christ.  God had no intention of death.  We know that from the Garden stories and even from Jesus Himself, who weeps and snorts angrily at the death of a friend.  So, never think this the plan.

     You will also hear other nonsense like “it’s for the best,” “he’s in a better place,” and “he’s with his princess now.”  Those who loved Todd know this was not for the best, and the more you loved him, the more you valued him as a friend or buddy, the more painful his absence will seem.  Eucharists such as this are times for us to remind ourselves and one another that we are not without hope, but neither are things the same.  Yes, one day we will see Todd again; hopefully, though, for most of us, it will be years, if not decades in the future.  It is right for wives to miss dead husbands.  It is proper for children to miss dead fathers.  It is right for us to mourn those whom we see no longer.  It is neither an indictment of our faith nor a sign of weakness.  In fact, it is an acknowledgement that things have changed.

     If you are in a tradition where they teach you to say that this is a part of God’s plan, think about what you are being taught and encouraged to do.  Why kind of monster would wish this set of tragedies on a family?  Do you really want to believe that God wanted Terri to lose the love of her life and her daughter?  Do you really want to believe that God wanted the kids to lose a sister and their father and their possessions?  God does not hurt us because he needs a project to glorify Himself.  He loves us.  We know the depth of that love because, as we will celebrate in just a couple weeks, He came down from heaven to save us.  For all the wonder and awe of Silent Night, you and I are reminded that that story would be meaningless, were it not for His suffering and death for our sins.  We may not understand it rationally, as it is a holy mystery, but God came down and bridged the chasm that we could not in the work and person of Jesus Christ.  To be sure, we will remind ourselves in a couple weeks that world did not know Him when He entered the world, and we will further remind ourselves of our rejection of Him when we return to Holy Week and Good Friday in the spring.  More significantly, we will remind ourselves that He did all that, that He suffered that rejection and torture and death, out of His incredible love for each one of us and everyone we meet.  Rather than say such nonsense to fill the void of silence, just be a shoulder to cry on, remind folks that God can redeem this because He raised Jesus from the dead.  Use both ears.  But never tell someone suffering that this was a part of God’s plan.

     Now, all of that leaves us with the question of a loving God and the existence of evil and suffering in the world.  Do we serve a God who could have cured Maddie?  Absolutely.  Do we serve a God who could have healed Todd and prevented His death?  You better believe it!  Do we serve a God who could heal a priest whose healing ministry is internationally known?  Yes.  But we serve a God who is not bound by time and space as we are and who knows far better than we what is really good for us.  Because He has already proven Himself to us by His coming and dying, we can trust that He will redeem even this horrible set of tragedies.  He may not do it the way you or I will want, but, then again, He always does more than we can ask or imagine.  And, as our readings chosen by Terri and Todd’s father remind us this day, we are reminded that we will see all those who claimed Christ as Lord again,   that this is not the end of Maddie’s story or Todd’s story or even Judith’s story.  God has so bound Himself to us that He would be dishonored were He unable to redeem this.  And we who plumb the Scriptures and have seen His power in the world around us understand all too well that He does not suffer dishonor for long.

     How do we know?  Much of what we forget in the Church in this country is the threat and presence of death.  We are blessed, most Americans, in that death is not the companion it is in other parts of the world.  In other parts of the world, diseases, hunger, war, and natural disasters loom large in the life and death of people.  We take for granted that death is something that happens in old age.  Death, of course, is that great stumbling block.  Think of the money people spend trying to put it off or delay it.  Think of the efforts that people go to to avoid it.  Cryogenic freezing and other nonsense.  The problem is that death is perceived as the end.  I can accumulate the wealth of Bill Gates or Elon Musk, but I cannot spend the money if I am dead.  I can accumulate the power of a President or monarch or military leader, but I cannot exercise that power if I am dead.  I can be the most beautiful of women or most handsome of men, but nobody will admire me if I am dead.  Death reminds us that these things we chase, these things we accumulate, most of these things that we value in life are, in the words of vanities.  Death is the stumbling block that cannot be overcome by want to, by innovation, by wealth, by strength, or by smarts.

     Ah, but for those of us who call Jesus Lord, know that death is not the final obstacle of life.  Yes.  It is the consequence of sin.  We die because we sin.  We understand that axiomatic truth.  More importantly, we understand the need for Jesus to die so that we might be reconciled to God.  Not unlike the way we breathe or blink, God destroys sin.  Were we to approach Him absent our faith in Christ, we would be destroyed.  But, He came down from heaven and became sin, took Himself all our punishments, so that we could be reconciled to Him again!  It is a price He willingly and lovingly paid.  After torture, He died.  For three days He laid in that empty tomb.  His disciples were confused because they thought His rescue had ended.  The Temple leadership thought they had secured their power, because they had conspired to put Him to death.  Pilate likely never gave Him another thought once He gave Joseph of Arimathea to retrieve the Body of our Lord and bury it.  Messiahs were a dime a dozen and charlatans all! 

     But God raised Him on that Easter morning!  That we might know He was Who He claimed to be, that we might know He really was the Messiah, God raised Him from the dead!  That Resurrection is important to us because it vindicated Jesus’ faith in our Father.  In the end, Jesus trusted that the Father would glorify Him for living the holy, righteous, sinless life He lived.  Though the world fought Him, rejected Him, and killed Him, His Resurrection testified to His Apostles and disciples that death is not the end!

     Just as significantly to us, though, it restored us to God.  I began this service with the reminder that we do not have life in ourselves.  We live and die in the Lord and are always His possession.  That means we can face the vicissitudes of the world, we can face the very worst that His enemies have to throw at us, with confidence that our sufferings will be redeemed and that we will share in His glory.  How does that work out in these tragedies?  I cannot say for certain, and, truthfully, I do not know that I want to try.  Any ideas or imaginations that I share will be dwarfed exponentially by what God will do.  How do we know Todd will be redeemed and glorified?  Because He claimed God’s Son as His Lord.  How do we know He will share in Christ’s glory?  Because that is Christ’s promise to him and to all who have been adopted as God’s children.  How do we know God can cause this all to come to be?  Because He raised Jesus from the dead!  If He had power to raise Jesus from the dead, He has the power, and more importantly the loving desire, for us to spend eternity with Him!  If He can take the events of Holy Week and our Lord’s death on the Cross and redeem them, if He can take the events of Job’s life and redeem them, He can certainly redeem these tragedies.  Perhaps our witness and our hope will lead others to His saving embrace.  Perhaps our faithful ministering to Terri and the family will cause others to wonder and ask why?  God alone knows how He will turn these tragedies to His purposes.

     Brothers and sisters, in just a couple weeks we will remind ourselves of the darkness of the world and of our need for a Savior.  We will go again to the manger, we who mourn, who perhaps even argue with God, over senseless deaths and His seeming inaction, and we will look upon the face of He Who came down from heaven.  We will remind ourselves that this first visitation was to show us the path to the Father.  And we will remind ourselves that the babe lying in the manger has been given authority to execute judgment of the world.  We will treasure, I hope, the knowledge that the Lord Whom Todd loved is the One who has been given that authority.  We will trust, I hope, in those promises that God made to Todd in his baptism.  We will, no doubt, grind our teeth a bit more on that bread and swallow a bit harder that wine that serves as the pledge of God’s promises to us in the Eucharist.  And, I pray, fortified by that pledge and this reminder of His promises to all who call Him Lord, we will look a bit more expectantly to that time when our Lord calls us home or returns to finish the re-creation that has begun, and that, like Todd and the saints who have gone before, we, with them, will be re-united with God and with them forever and share in that amazing, promised Feast, clothed not in these fleshy, always breaking down bodies nor even as a bumblebee, but clothed as sons and daughters, princes and princesses, of God, and all this bitterness and sadness forgotten.  We may not have the answers to our questions or the salves for our wounds.  Thankfully and mercifully, we, like Todd, know the One who does!

 

In His Peace,

Brian†

Christ will reign . . .

         I noticed a few worried faces this morning.  Uh, oh, we’re in white.  What’s going on?  In case you have forgotten or, more likely, time has gotten away from you because of coronatide, today is a special day in the Church.  In the old days, it was known simply as the Last Sunday after Pentecost.  It marked the end of the regular green season.  In truth, though, it is our newest feast.  In the days before the pandemic, a few fans of the 1928 Prayer Book remarked that the feast day seemed new.  So, I did some reading.  It turns out they were correct.

     By way of information, the observance of the new feast occurred in the 1920’s.  The Pope was greatly and rightly concerned that people were suffering under secular rule.  Just to remind us of our history and geography, the Pope declared the feast day after an Italian ruler by the name of Mussolini suspended a number of what we call today civil rights.  There has, from time to time, been some conflicts between the Italian leadership and the Vatican.  Part of the friction is that the Vatican is super wealthy and located within the city of Rome.  Part of the friction is due to the fact that the Vatican has tried to operate as it sees fit, paying no taxes to italy.  It’s that old story that reminds us that money equals power!

     In any event, the world was chaotic.  The last pandemic, the Spanish Flu, was not even a decade in the rear view mirror.  The war to end all wars was yet to be fought, though WWI had been tried.  America was on the doorstep of the Great Depression and The Dust Bowl.  In Europe, France and Britain had ceded the Rhineland back to Germany.  Hitler had only been in charge of the Nazi Party in Germany for a couple years.  Asia and Africa?  The world did not pay much attention to the events on those continents.  But, suffice it to say, the time was filled with social, political, economic, and religious divisions.  Add a few natural disasters, a plague, and a couple other anxieties, and you can see why the Pope decided that the world needed to be reminded that Jesus truly reigned.

     Of course, in the United States, we preferred the designation “The Reign of Christ” over Christ the King. Sunday.  It turns out that people who fought a revolution to free themselves from a monarchy are not fond of reminding themselves that the end of times will see the re-establishment of a kingdom and King, even if it is Lord Jesus.  

     For us, liturgically speaking, it is a great end of the Church year celebration.  Next week marks the beginning of Advent.  Other churches have patronal feasts.  We have a patronal season.  Our calling, insofar as our name suggests, is that we are to be a congregation that reminds the world that God’s Anointed has come and that, one glorious Day in the future, He will return to judge everyone.  Our focus looking backwards and forwards reminds us that we both testify to the fact that Jesus was and is who He said He was, that He was vindicated by God on the wonderful Easter morning, and that He will return to finish all that He has started.  Christ the King Sunday prepares us to focus upon our roles as Adventers in the world around us.  It’s just a shame the world is in so much better shape than it was when the Pope instituted the feast.

     At least everyone laughed ruefully, recognizing the sarcasm in my voice.  In many respects, not much has changed these last 95 years.  I suppose one big difference is that our politicians work for us rather than for themselves.  Hmm.  That laughter makes me think you disagree.  Well, at least we live in a country where we throw those who do not serve us out simply by casting a vote.  I see the nods but remind us that we seldom think our own Senators or Representatives are the problem.  Time and time again, Congress gets a horribly dissatisfied rating as a group, but those elected from our district or state are dissatisfied only by members of the other party.  Thus, we keep electing the same people and wonder why things do not improve.

     The pandemic, of course, has brought a number of our idols and assumptions into the light, in addition to radically changing the way we go about life, to say nothing of the suffering and death it has caused.  Last week, we reminded ourselves of those whom we had lost and not been able to mourn and celebrate properly.  We read the litany and reminded ourselves of that loss and our loss of those who have gone to their reward.

     Our inability to gather in the parish hall and share stories is but one way how things have changed around us.  Now we have the big television, so that events can be hybrid at the parish.  We want people to participate as much as possible, but we do not want them taking unnecessary risks.  Similarly, the drone of the hepa filters reminds us that gatherings are dangerous to some and risk spreading the plague to all.  Suffice it to say, we are just not yet ourselves, no matter how much we wish we were.

     Not that the wider world is in any better shape.  Economists are confused.  We are in the midst of the great resignation, and yet jobless claims remain near historic lows.  The myth is that the extra unemployment safety net caused “lazy” people to stay home and not work.  Some states cancelled those benefits during the summer, and the benefit expired in September.  So where are all the workers?  It’s almost as if people re-evaluated their priorities during a life and death pandemic and decided their jobs were not worth the risk.  Now, people are having to wait longer to get gods and services.  And let’s just say “loving their neighbor as themselves” is not at the top of their efforts right now.

     Justice seems to be in rather short supply, too.  The case in MN was decided this week with a jury finding the defendant not guilty, effectively believing his claim of self-defense.  Some among us understand the double-nature of justice.  If the defendant was black, do we think he would have gotten off?  Were the defendant poor, do we think he would have been found not-guilty?  It is easy to see why people perceive the scales of justice tipping a bit in one direction.  All of us, I expect, would like to take a shower after the case.  All of it began when the defendant crossed state lines to involve himself in social unrest.  He did not live there.  It does not seem right to others that he inserted himself into a volatile situation and was able to take two lives.

     And lest we forget, another case is playing out in Georgia.  A young black man was shot for running through the neighborhood.  One of the shooters testified under oath that the man was only running, clearly had no weapon, and did not verbally assault the three of them.  He seemed intent on avoiding their pickup trucks and shotguns.  Despite that testimony, is anyone here certain the three will be convicted when the case heads to the jury?  Even the judge has complained about the racist behavior and actions of the defense attorneys.  But, under Georgia law, there was nothing to be done.  So, people of color are excluded from the jury and the lawyers get to complain about black pastors intimidating members of the jury and the long toenails of the deceased.

     Lest we forget, we all know, and you are likely sick of me mentioning it, but we started a food pantry when food insecurity only impacted 1 in 5 Tennesseans.  How much higher did that get during the pandemic?  We provided space for those who are struggling with addiction.  How challenging was that?!  How tough has the pandemic been on mental health, but we had to make sure events and meetings here did not put people at unnecessary risk.  And you all have no idea the tug of war behind the scenes.  We demonstrated ourselves capable of distributing money to the needy and documenting that giving appropriately, and yet our local government is challenged getting new funds to those in need and specifically do not wish to work with churches.

     In the midst of those “big things,” many of us are dealing with all kinds of more personal issues.  Without getting too specific, we have Adventers who are suffering from other diseases. Some of the outlooks are downright scary, and some of the good outlooks involve some difficult treatments in the near future.  Some Adventers are dealing with broken relationships.  I know we are on the brink of the holiday season and that many of us hope for a Norman Rockwell experience, but have you met our families?  We laugh, but only because we know the truth.  None of our families look like those pictures.  We all have long simmering feuds, rolls to play, and the pressure of meeting the expectations of those who know us best.  Under stress.

     So, yes, it is good that the Pope, in his wisdom, introduced another feast day for the Church and at this time of the year.  Aside from ending the Church year with a last proclamation and look towards the eschaton before we start Advent, we get to remind ourselves that, despite all this stuff, said and unsaid, Jesus has authority and will reign.  Better still, He has promised to redeem all our sufferings and to vindicate us for our faith in Him despite the testimony of the world around us!  Our focus on the end of this year has been on the crazy ability of God to redeem and incorporate.  Naomi is literally redeemed, and Ruth became the grandma of David and an ancestor of Jesus, despite her station as a Moabite widow.  Job experiences all kinds of evil at the hand of Satan; yet God restores even Job’s honor and gives Job a vision of the things he did not know or understand.

     Our reading from 2 Samuel is from David’s obituary.  Some of the outside world might believe David was a great king.  God certainly loved him and credited David for having faith in Him.  A man after God’s own heart is how our Lord describes the great king.  Yet, those of us who read Scripture and pay attention to the stories about David understand he not a righteous superhero.  To be sure, David kills Goliath and a large number of Philistines.  David even patiently waits on God to fulfill His promise to make David king over God’s people.  But, and this is an enormous all caps but, David does a few things that make us cringe.  Were we reading the entirety of the story of David, we would be reminded of his dalliance with a woman who catches his eye.  In times of yore, this was just good old fashioned adultery, but now we cringe even more because we wonder whether Bathsheba really wanted to betray her husband.  How does a woman in that society say no to a king?  That affair results in an unintended pregnancy.  David tries to hide it by bringing Bathsheba’s husband home from the front, but ends up using the war to kill Uriah the Hittite.  Were we to pay more attention to David, the man after God’s own heart, we would see he is not the great shepherd of God’s people that he is called to be all the time.  Kings in the ANE did censuses to set taxes and decide whether there were enough fighting men to go to war.  Israel’s kings, however, were supposed to consult God before going off to war.  That meant they were supposed to speak with the prophet.  The prophet would advise the king whether God would give Israel victory over their enemies.  David, of course, does a census for the purpose of determining whether he has a big enough army.  When God offers David the choice of his family facing the consequences of the sin or letting the consequences fall on the people of Israel, David makes another bad choice.  Now, what makes David a successful king in God’s eyes is his willingness to repent when confronted with his sin.  Unlike his predecessor Saul, David repents when he confronted by his sin.  David is not sinless, not by any means, but he is righteous because he admits his sins and turns to God every time.

     What we long for, of course, is someone who does not sin, someone who does not make the mistake of letting his passions get in the way of doing what God commands.  And in that longing, David is just like us.  His obituary makes it clear that David’s rise and successes are all attributable to God.  God exalts David.  David does not win the throne by cunning or strength of arms.  God anoints and elevates and swears the everlasting covenant.  God causes David to prosper.

     David uses agrarian imagery to speak of one who rules justly in God’s stead.  Now, we know David makes mistakes.  David was a better king than most of his offspring.  But, even he looks to the day when God’s Anointed reigns.  Such a ruler gives his people the peace of a meadow with dew and no clouds in the sky.  We call it the peace that passes all understanding.  You may know the peace on a beach, with the sound of crashing waves and sand under your feet.  Call it whatever we want, we know what such a ruler would mean for us.  How much would our tensions and stressors be lowered if our elected leaders sought God’s justice?  Heck, how much more palatable would our fights be if our leaders repented when wrong, rather than acting and sounding like Saul?  You and I are blessed to see God’s promise to David fulfilled.  That greater Son has come.  The king in the line and family of David has been anointed.  We know this because He was raised from the dead and Ascended to the Father.  But one Day, He will return to rule forever.  It is that scene that we hear and read John describing in our reading from Revelation.  His first entrance into what was His own was unnoticed by most.  His next entrance will be rather the reverse.  All will see Him.  His appearing will be unmissable, and the tribes of the world will wail because all will learn that the Gospel really was true, and that they have chosen poorly.

     But, for now, the privilege and responsibility has been given to us, to all who proclaim Him Lord, to herald both comings.  He came not to judge the world during His first appearing, but to save it, as our comfortable words remind us.  Now is the time that we are given the job of spreading the Good News of God in Christ.  We are the proclaimers of His death, His Resurrection, His Ascension and His coming in glory.  We feed the hungry in His name; we carve out space for mental health in His name; we paid rents, mortgages, and utilities in His name; we show patience to those waiting on us in stores in His name; we are, in the words of John, a kingdom not of this world, but of His.  The only proclamation that we make during the Eucharist that He has not fulfilled is that promised return.  And so we gather this day to remind ourselves that one day He will, in fact, rule, that we will experience the peace described by David, we will see the glory described by John, we will experience the rule of one who testifies to the truth.

     we live in that time between, that tension between the already and the not yet, as Carola liked to remind each one of you.  We live in a world that rejects His authority, His revealed truth.  Most of our leaders serve themselves, not us; many of our neighbors love idols rather than the One who created them in His image; we fight hunger in His name, hoping people will hunger and thirst for He who feeds us and gives us living water; we do unending work and spend money on problems that seem never ending, trusting that He who created the heavens and earth has whatever resources we need to testify to His abundance in our lives; heck, we even gather during the midst of a pandemic believing that our worship of Him is essential, both for us and for those who do not yet know Him.  We remind ourselves, on this day, when we remember the trials of our lives and the rejection of the world, that the King we serve triumphs even over the mockery, rejection, and death visited upon Him by Pilate, even as He will one done redeem the mockery, rejection, and evil we have experienced ministering in His name and to His glory!

In His peace,

Brian+

A Litany of Mourning . . .

     If you are visiting today, I apologize in advance.  You have stumbled into worship with us as we are intentionally remembering those whom we lost since the start of the pandemic.  I think only one on our list has COVID listed as her cause of death, but all died during the pandemic.  The Vestry and Liturgy & Worship Committee and I struggled with how to bring some liturgical and social closure to the congregation.  Since all of us gathered are Episcopalians, we know how important funerals are to us, and we know we do them well.  Just ask Hollywood and television, right?  They love our funeral and wedding liturgies.  In any event, beginning with Charles’ death, back in the days when the civil and ecclesiastical authorities had everything completely shut down, we have not had proper funerals.  In fact, we are so not ourselves that some parishioners have only learned about one or two of these deaths in the last month.

     In the course of our discussions, we decided to have a memorial service of sorts around All Souls’ Day.  Just to remind ourselves, All Souls’ is the feast day on which we remember all the “regular people” who have died.  Some parishes have a necrology; some use a Litany like the one we are using.  Some, of course, conflate All Saints and All Souls and just have one big celebration.  Our intent last spring was to have a memorial service and then a big party in the parish hall.  For a couple of our deceased, they were rather intent that we needed to party when they died.  They wanted us to remember them and their death as a celebratory event, but NOT because they were gone!

     We picked a date in November because it was the month of All Souls’ Day.  We also picked it because we have a lot of unique celebrations this month—All Saints’, All Souls’, Christ the King, Advent begins, the bishop comes, and, oh yeah, Thanksgiving.  We figured everything would be so jumbled up that people would adapt to the services and really enjoy the social event.

     Then, Delta hit.  Just as it seemed the Wilderness Road was leading us back to normal, we hit another of those switchback turns.  And we started heading away from normal.  Now, I think the turn is gradually heading back to the “New Normal,” as Adventers are getting third shots and children are getting their firsts, but, even were things to open up completely in a month or two, we would not be ourselves.  We have lost members during the pandemic, faithful members.  Their absence will be felt for some time, and not just by their immediate family.  So, I determined to go ahead and use the litany today and hold that parish hall celebration off until we can gather and regale one another and their loved ones with stories.  Truth be told, it would be an interesting witness to the world outside our doors.  Like St. Paul reminds us today, we are not people without hope.  We know our loved ones live in the Lord and that, one glorious day, we will join them with Him for that Great Wedding Feast that He has planned since the foundation of the world.

     Our litany today serves as a sort of catechesis for us.  As you all know, I love preaching and teaching on the Scriptures, but today seemed the perfect time for us to focus on the Litany, as the Litany points us all back to the Sacraments, which, as we all know and can answer the bishop in two weeks, are the outward signs of the inward and spiritual grace that we have.

     The Litany begins with an invocation of the Trinity.  Each of us gathered here understands that the Trinity is truly a Holy mystery.  How can God be three persons in one unity?  What does that even mean?  Why is it even important?  Those of you who have suffered through one of my sermons on the Holy Dance of the Trinity, the perichoresis, know that one of the earlier images of the Trinity was like that of a great waltz.  Sometimes we see evidence of the Father better, sometimes the Son, sometimes the Holy Spirit.  They are different, but they are in absolutely unity of being and purpose.  Chief among those purposes, if we listen to John Chrysostom, is to carve out a space for us in that Holy Dance, that you and I, when we are completely redeemed, will be of one mind and one purpose with the Trinity.  Of course, try as we might, it is hard to explain to outsiders.  We and those to whom we try and explain get flustered.  How can there be three and one?  At some point, logic seems to break down and we accept it on faith.  The Father has glorified His Beloved Son and, as the Son promised, has sent the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, to us as down payment or pledge on our future inheritance.  We know this even if we do not understand it.  And we know its importance because we remember and proclaim that truth every time we gather for worship and say the Nicene Creed.

     For what are we asking?  On this day we are simply asking God to have mercy on Charles, on Frances, on Ron, on Miwako, on John, for Ruby, and for Mary, on their loved ones, and on us.  Much like our Burial service, we recognize that they are no longer among us, even if we have not been much around us since the start of this pandemic.  We recognize that they have loved ones, some loved ones who did not get the liturgical closure or the pastoral care upon which we pride ourselves as Episcopalians.  How many of us love to make a casserole for a family?  That hasn’t happened in nearly two years.  How many of us like to have a favorite drink and share a story or three?  That’s been hit or miss.  How many of us like taking survivors out for a meal?  We couldn’t do that until the vaccines became available, and we have to make sure our restaurants of choice are staffed.  These other rituals upon which we depend are, at best altered, and at worst unable to be observed.  Heck, in the case of Charles, everything was shut down when he died.  I remembered how nice it was when Frances died because, by then, at least we could allow ten family members to come to the graveside.  Can you imagine what your 2019 self would say to you if you told him or her that there would be a time when cemeteries would not let anyone be present for some weeks and then think themselves living on the edge for allowing ten people?  But that is the experience we and their loved ones have all come through.

     Each of their big stories, of course, has their own little sub-chapters which made their experience unique to them.  The day before everything shut down, Bill placed Frances in a memory care unit.  Bill lovingly placed Frances in a place to care for her needs expertly, and then he was told he could not even visit the next day.  Miwako was up and moved from California to Nashville, suffering from her own memory issues.  Can you imagine her confusion?  Poor John was trapped for months.  Now, we all know how John loved to hold court, and I am certain he was able to hold court with all those in the same facility, but he loved getting out.  Mary and Charles, I hope, bookend this horrible experience for me.  It was horrible not being able to do anything for Mary.  And by the time we could do anything, she had been moved to SC.  Ron was what we professional Christians call a spiritual patriarch of the parish.  Ron knew everyone and knew everything about Advent.  He seldom gave advice unasked, except maybe within his family, but he gave great advice when asked, usually because he always wanted what was best for this parish and for those who attended faithfully.  And Ruby.  Most of y’all will not recognize her name, but you would recognize her fashion sense were she to show up at the barbecue or TGIF.  Ruby and her husband were in orbit of the parish thanks to the work of Jane.  Early in my tenure here, I buried her husband.  Naturally, when Ruby died, the family asked if I would bury her . . . during a pandemic.  I sometimes wonder what would have happened if we had gotten Ruby and Frances in a room together.  We would have probably bankrupted their husbands because they would have seen each other’s cute shoes and purses and needed them!

     We rightfully laugh at some of these stories.  Those of us who knew them better lived the stories, and so many more.  And, now that time has passed and the Holy Spirit has comforted us, we can share stories and laugh, even as we still acknowledge that we miss them.  But we are not without hope of seeing them again.

     Our litany continues with prayers for those in the world.  It is appropriate that, even as we remember those whom we have lost, that we pray for others who have died during this pandemic, and their loved ones.  We know that God knows them and loves them just as He loves us and our loved ones, and so we lift them up in prayer trusting in His Fatherly care.

     We continue by praying for those who have been impacted by the pandemic, which is everyone in the world.  We remind ourselves and those who maybe stumble on to this litany that God cares for every single human being in the world, just as he cares for us and for those whom we lost.  He cares for those struggling to pay bills.  He cares for those who are lonely.  He cares for those who cannot care for themselves.  Most especially, we recognize and pray for the Church.  We know our Lord calls us to proclaim the Gospel in word and deed and to be a source of light in a dark world in a dark time.  It is hard work.  There never seems to be an end.  Heck, sometimes we wonder if we are ever making a difference.  So we throw those cares to God and ask Him to sustain each and every member of His Church, that we might never tire of doing the work He has given us to do.

     We will pray for all those who have died.  We will remind ourselves of what happened at Baptism and Confirmation and of the truth we proclaim each and every time we share the Eucharist.  Those who have died to self and asked God to be Lord of their life are promised eternal life.  The same God who came down from heaven and was made man, who suffered and died for us because of His tender love for each and every one of us, the same God who was raised from the dead and ascended back to the Father, the same God who sent the Holy Spirit to us, that we might do wonderful and mighty works in His Name, has only one promise left to fulfill for us.  He has promised that on a glorious Day He will return to recreate the heavens and the earth and pass judgment on all humanity.  Those who chose Him, who did their best to live the life described by the disciple’s life in Baptism, will enter into an inheritance prepared since the beginning of time.  All of us.

     It is that time of year when families gather, and so I like to remind us of our hope with this image.  You and I gather today and remember our fellow pilgrims and thank God for putting us in this journey together.  But as we chew on His flesh.  As we grind that morsel in the face of death in the midst of a pandemic, we proclaim His Resurrection and await His Second Coming, clinging stubbornly to that promise.  You see, we are not without hope this day even as our loved ones are no longer among us.  We know, we know that the One who loves us and has power to conquer death, has promised each one of us, and those who have preceded us in death, that on that glorious Day, we will leave this kids’ table behind.  Right now, we are thankful that we get to eat His flesh and drink His blood, because that food and that drink is but a promise of what is in store for us.  On that glorious Day He will call us all to His Table, a Table set for the Great Marriage Feast, where we will dine on delicacies we can neither imagine or prepare ourselves, and we will do that dining with all who proclaim Him Lord.  One day, my brothers and sisters, we will be united with those whom we lost.  We will see them in all their redemptive glory!  We will hear them regale us with the stories of His saving grace in their lives.  We will do the same with them.  And we will celebrate that our Father in heaven has brought us all home for eternity.  As hard as it seems this day, in this place, in this time, that is His promise.  And because He raised our Lord Christ that glorious Easter morning, we know He can raise them and us when that time comes!

 

In His glorious peace,

Brian†

Family history and family future . . . .

    This week we finish the book of Ruth in our OT cycle.  It is a shame.  Over the course of three years we read, at most two selections from the book of Ruth.  It is a timely reading us.  We have just come off a few weeks of Job.  People have been wondering how God can redeem particular circumstances in their life.  The right answer is always better than we can ask or imagine, but sometimes it seem incredibly hard to imagine that God can redeem some of the circumstances in our lives.  And, for those of you who have heard the story of one of the families in my last parish, and of the parish itself, it is good that we are reminded of God’s redeeming power.

     Ruth, like Job is a great book to study.  Unlike Job, though, Ruth is rather short.  It is only four chapters long!  If your reason for avoiding the whole book of Job is its length, you will get no such sympathy regarding Ruth.  It is a short book, fairly quick to the point, and more significant than its length might suggest.

     Finally, and perhaps most importantly to a certain cult at Advent, Ruth serves as the basis for Outlander.  Ok, gentlemen, don’t rolls your eyes so hard.  I meant what I said.  The author of Outlander, Diana Gabaldon, was inspired by the book of Ruth to retell the story for a modern audience.  Think of CS Lewis or JRR Tolkien.  Gabaldon was taken by the story of go’el, kinsman redeemer, and wrote a book in which Jamie serves as a kinsman redeemer for Claire.  And, lest you think the Start series based on the books is a bit too scandalous, you will find that Diana figured out sex played a prominent roll in the story of Ruth, too!

     Had we focused on the book last week, we would have been introduced to a theological commentary.  The book begins with the discussion of a drought.  Those familiar with the covenant should recognize that, if God is withholding the rains, Israel is doing a bad job of keeping the covenant.  God promised that when Israel did as instructed, He would send the rains.  When they sinned, though, God promised to withhold the rains.  So, were we faithful Israelites living in Israel in a drought, we would be called to examine our lives.

     The story, of course, takes a more tragic turn.  Elimelek and Naomi abandon the Land they have inherited from God and travelled to Moab.  Culturally speaking, we cannot understand the shock that revelation would convey.  It would be far worse for an Israelite to move to Moab than for a Tennessean to move to Alabama.  It is one of those things that just is not done.  Moab is an enemy of Israel.  As Larry has been teaching on Sunday mornings, Moab will often raid Israel’s farms for free food.  So, such a move would be almost unthinkable.

     Once we begin to do things our own way, though, such unthinkable decisions become easier and easier.  While living in Moab, Naomi and Elimelek get Moabite women as wives for their two sons.  Again, Israel was commanded not to marry people from the other “ites” because they would lead their children to chase after false gods.  The most tragic example of this would be Solomon’s decision to marry the Egyptian princess.  Up until that point in the histories of Israel, Solomon is a great king.  He marries the Egyptian princess and allows her to set up worship spots in other high places.  His action will let his progeny to find it acceptable to erect Asheroth poles and other forbidden altars to idols — but that is a story for another day!

     So, we have a man and woman from near the town of Bethlehem.  They have moved to Moab to scratch out a living, and they have found local wives for their two sons.  Then tragedy befalls them.  All the men are killed.  Naomi and the two Moabite women, Ruth and Orpah are left as widows.  Those hearing or reading the story would assume God’s judgement was upon the family.  They certainly deserved it.  But rather than telling how God had caused the death of the men in retribution for their unfaithfulness, the story goes in an unpredictable way.

     Naomi recognizes her plight.  There is no way for the women to make a living for themselves.  And, as Naomi notes, were she to conceive that night, would the daughters-in-law wait until a new son had grown up to marry them?  It is a rhetorical question, of course.  So, Naomi tells her daughters-in-law to go back to their families.  Orpah does just that, after some hugging and crying.  Ruth, on the other hand, clings to her mother-in-law.  “Your people will be my people; your God will be my God.”  Naomi tries to convince Ruth to leave her, but Ruth refuses.  So, together, they had back to Israel.

     We skip the introductions of Boaz in last week’s and this week’s reading.  Boaz, we are told is a righteous and wealthy man.  His actions support the description.  He allows the needy to glean his fields.  That was one of those practices that Israel was called to do, but many field owners refused.  One could not make money off the grain that was given away.

     In an interesting twist, it turns out that Boaz is kinsman to Naomi.  Modern critics, of course, will allege that Ruth pimps out her daughter-in-law.  Certainly, Ruth takes a risk following her mother-in-law’s instructions.  But, Boaz has proven himself a righteous man.  In face, we would say he has been very gracious to the older woman and her daughter-in-law.  Is he motivated by Ruth’s beauty?  Sure.  But at no time does he force himself upon Ruth.

     Now, on the day in our reading today, Boaz is working at the threshing floor.  Naomi tells Ruth to trust her and do as she instructs.  She tells Ruth to wash and put on her best clothes.  She is to wait until the men are ready to sleep and pay attention to where Boaz chooses to sleep.  Once asleep, Ruth is supposed to the uncover the feet of Boaz and lie down.  Naomi promises that Boaz will show Ruth what to do.

     Now, what we do not catch as a modern Americans is what’s really being suggested.  We have some kids in the congregation today, so I will be delicate.  Something is being uncovered, but the foot is a euphemism for another appendage that is being uncovered.  Yes.  It is exactly what you think.  So, we have a young widow, with no man to protect her, all dolled up, uncovering the . . . ahem, foot of this man, laying down, and awaiting instruction.  I trust even Bartimaeus can see the possible wrong turns of this story.  

     Boaz, for his part, really is a righteous man.  He understands that Ruth is doing this for the benefit of her mother-in-law, Naomi, Boaz’ kinswoman.  In fact, Ruth calls Boaz the go’el of our family.  Being a righteous man, and a bit flattered, Boaz tells Ruth there is one family member closer — that one is the go’el.  He tells her to sleep there until morning, but to leave before anyone recognizes she is there.  He wants all to know she has a noble character.  On her way out the next morning, he gives her six measures of barley, telling Ruth not to return to Naomi empty-handed.  There will be a play on words later, and some symbolism now.  Six measures of barley would have been heavy.  In her robes, she would have appeared pregnant to any who saw her.  Later, of course, when Obed is born, the symbolism will be fulfilled.

     Boaz fulfills all righteousness, but he does not give the kinsman all the details.  He fails to mention the beauty of Ruth.  He finds the closer family member at the city gate and tells him that Naomi has returned and needs to be redeemed.  The kinsman is excited to redeem Naomi and acquire Elimelek’s land and agrees to do it.  Boaz warns him, though, that he will also get Naomi’s Moabite daughter-in-law in the exchange.  It would be one thing to get Elimelek’s land and only have to care for Naomi until she dies.  It is far less appetizing to have to work the farm only to give it to a child he would father on Ruth as heir to Elimelek.  The kinsman tells Boaz, in front of the elders at the gate, that Boaz can redeem her, if he wishes.  Boaz does this, and exchanges sandals, in front of the elders so that the kinsman cannot later change his mind.

     In front of the witnesses Boaz proclaims he is go’el to the family of Elimelek.  He will do his best to father a child on the Moabite widow, so that names of Elimelek, Kilion, and Mahlon do not become disinherited.  The witnesses, for their part, accept Boaz’ oath to try and give the Moabite woman a child who can inherit Elimelek’s land.  They pray that the Moabite woman will be like Rachel and Leah and build up the family, and they pray that his family will be like Perez, whom Tamar bore to Judah.

     Understand the oath and responsibility that Boaz has undertaken.  He has agreed to try his best to father a child on Naomi’s daughter-in-law who will be, under the torah, the son of Ruth’s first husband.  That child will be raised as and always considered the son of Ruth’s first husband.  Elimelek’s land will not merge with Boaz’.  It will be set apart for the first son to inherit.  He also pledges to care for Naomi until her death.  Unless Ruth bears him two or more sons, he will not have an inheritor.  That’s why the formal negotiations, that’s why the formal oath, that’s why the formal blessing and prayer.  The elders are hoping that God will reward Boaz for his righteous behavior.  He has agreed to redeem Naomi and a Moabite daughter-in-law.  

     Now, we know there are some job more pleasurable than other jobs, right.  I mean, we are told Ruth is stunningly beautiful.  Poor Boaz is going to have to spend the rest of his life trying to father at least two sons on Ruth.   I can well imagine the jokes that could have made between Ruth and Boaz.  And make no mistake, Ruth understands what she has in Boaz.  Yes, he is older.  No, he is not Jamie from Outlander.  But he is a righteous man.  He made sure she and Naomi were fed.  He did not take advantage of her position and force himself upon her.  He is what most of would call a good man.

     Why do we spend so much time on this story?  One of those titles that we pay too little attention to in our church is the idea that Jesus is our go’el.  In the South, we might not shy away from the language of calling Jesus our Redeemer, but we often forget that part of the reason for His Incarnation is so that we would know Him as one of us.  He is, to use colloquial language, our brother.  Sometimes, we spend so much time think of God as holy other and distant that we forget that Jesus was fully divine and fully human.  We often forget that when He ascended back to be with the Father, He took a piece of us back with us.  The theologians say He took our humanity back to the Trinity.

     We just spent several weeks on Job, discussing both his horrible experiences and our own.  In conversations with Adventers, I reminded us that, part of that for which Job so longed, a mediator and an advocate, we already have.  When we are suffering, our go’el is already at the right hand of the Father making intercession on our behalf.  When we are experiencing injustice, we know our go’el is already advocating for redemption and justice.  That go’el of ours could rightly have left us to wallow in the consequences of our sins.  But He chose to come down and rescue each and every one of us who would accept His offer.  And what did that redemption cost Him?  His reputation.  His life.  You see, Jesus lived the life that you and I could not.  Jesus believed in the Father and ignored the whispers of the enemy when you and I could not.  He came into what was His own, what was made through Him, and we rejected and mocked and finally tortured and killed Him.  But because the Son was faithful, the Father vindicated Him.  He was raised on that Easter morning, testifying to us that He had power to redeem all things, even death!  And because the Father redeemed our go’el, we know that we will, one day be redeemed, vindicated for trusting in Him.

     I am often asked what such vindication and redemption looks like.  In truth, my answer is usually the same.  I have no idea.  God always does more than we can ask or imagine.  Today, I have told you the story of a go’el, what you might know as a type and shadow of THE GO’EL, Jesus.  But because you do not plumb the Scriptures as you should, you likely do not know the rest of the story.  Boaz faithful performs the oath he accepts in front of the elders.  He fathers a son on Ruth.  Naomi, of course, is elated.  Remember at the beginning of this how I reminded you of her abandonment of her land and her people and of God’s torah.  I am certain in her heart she had no expectation of a happy ending.  And yet, against all odds, she finds herself at the end of this book holding her grandson, the inheritor of her son and of her husband.  God provided her with a righteous kinsman redeemer.

     But this is better than any happy ending or fairy tale.  The is better than you and I could ask or imagine.  Were we Naomi, we would be thankful that we now had an heir, that our family would not be disinherited.  But the story ends with a footnote that should blow each one of us away.  We are told in verse 17 that they named the child Obed.  Obed was the father of Jesse.  Jesse was the father of David.  For all her failures to be faithful at the beginning of the story, look what has happened!  Naomi has been grafted into the holy family!  She is the great grandmother of the great king, David!  You know David’s eventual grandson by the Name of Jesus.  

      In the midst of everything, Naomi did the best that she could.  When there was no hope in her powers, she returned to God.  A curious thing happened along the way, though.  He love of God penetrated the heart of her Moabite daughter-in-law.  Though Ruth had every reason to abandon Naomi as did Orpah, she clung to Naomi and refused to leave.  She swore Naomi’s people would be her people and that Naomi’s God would be her God.  She trusted and served her mother-in-law well, risking her reputation and even her life.  And lest we forget, she was the mother of Obed.  An enemy of God’s people was drafted into the lineage of the Holy family.  How kinsman is Jesus to us?  His family is even messed up like our own.  When we say, you should meet my uncle or my crazy aunt or my sister or my . . . . whatever, Jesus has a family of His own, every bit a human as our own!  And still, and still, when He might have said he had enough nuts in His family, He became our Go’el and redeemed each one of us.  Despite our unfaithfulness at times.  Despite our “I’ll do it my way” attitudes sometimes.  And because of that work and mercy, each one of us knows that we are members of that same Holy Family, heirs of His eternal kingdom.  That is a story worth sharing, that others might join this crazy family of God through the redeeming work of His Son.

 

In Christ’s Peace,

Brian+

On our Collect . . .

      I made it to the weekend without any clean discernment of a sermon for us.  That is not to say I did not have any ideas for sermons, but that none seemed to be landing where we were corporately.  For example, many of you know we had an issue with the freezer being shut off by a problem with the HVAC in the parish hall that resulted in quite the mess and stink.  So, Hebrews seemed a little different this year.  Of course, it probably speaks differently to Hilary, Nancy, Larry, Sarah, and me, as we were the ones working in the mess and smell and responsible for cleanup!  Watching our politicians again this week, I was put in the mind of the psalmist and reminded not to put my trust in mortals, in whom there is no help.  But I don’t know that many of us are trusting mortals right now, and fewer Adventers are trusting politicians.  Mark’s Gospel is pretty straight forward.  Love God with everything and love our neighbors as ourselves.  Who does not know that?  The challenge, of course, is living both commandments.  Ruth provided some great fodder.  We have the theological claim associated with the drought.  We have Israelites leaving their inheritance for an enemy nation, Moab.  We even have Israelite parents marrying their sons off to Moabite women.  But, except for those in our families who marry people from Alabama, can we really relate?

     All that sort of pushed me eventually to the Collect.  By Friday, I was getting a bit worried I had nowhere to go for my sermon.  But, the Collect was bouncing around up in my head.  I even had a couple conversations with folks who were quick to tell me that we Episcopalians do not take the Bible as seriously as their traditions do.  Y’all know I love those conversations.  If I am feeling snarky, I let my inner congregationalist out.  More often than not, and unsurprising from my perspective, fewer and fewer Christians really wrestle with the Scriptures.  So, when they take issue with something that we do that I think is biblical, I let them know.  If I am feeling more pastoral, though, I might share from the beginning about the nature of the Prayer Book.  What is it, something like 80% of our BCP is straight out of the Bible?  From time to time, people with take one and read it and return with a “I had no idea y’all had so much Scripture in your book.”

     One of those places that borrows heavily from the Scriptures are our Collects.  Everyone here has been baptized.  Most have been confirmed, so you know some of their history.  Archbishop Cranmer and a few others plumbed the Scriptures for prayers that were related to the readings for the Principal service and the readings for the Daily Offices during the week.  We have lost that tie or binding thanks to our adoption of the RCL, but we recognize that our prayers were meant to supplement our BCP lectionary.  Good.  I see nods of agreement.  For those of you who did not know there was a method to our madness, see Casey.  He has taken the most recent class on that subject matter and most likely to be able to answer all questions.

     The Collects are so good that one can do a sermon series on them.  I can remember doing just that one summer after ordination.  I wanted to do a sermon series through which no one had suffered, and so I spent several weeks preaching the Collects of the Day.  The congregation was better than tolerant.  They were thrilled I was boring them with new material rather than making them suffer through the same old, same old.  But, they really are good and it speaks to our readings this week, perhaps in ways of which we do not often speak.

     O God, Whose blessed Son came into the world.  Right away, in the introduction to our collect, you and I are reminded that we are an incarnational people.  It takes some getting there, I understand it.  But we remind ourselves all this week that Jesus, the Son of God, came into the world.  It is a claim that defies logic and much of the understanding of the rest of the world.  In most cultures, the world is yucky.  Gods exist in the heavenly or spiritual realms.  No god, no goddess, in his or her own right mind, would ever want to burden themselves with bodies.  Bodies are frail.  Bodies can be weakened by diseases.  Bodies get hungry, and bodies die.  In the west, this separation of matter and spiritual finds its height probably in the ideas of Plato.  Most of us gathered here today are well educated and at least know the teaching of the cave in Plato.  At best, we see shadowy reflections of the true images on our walls.  Good.  I see the nods.  I do not want to linger too much here, but understand the claim of the incarnation.  God became human!  Those who built ziggurats and those who understood the heavens to be pure would be scandalized by such a claim.  Yet such a claim should be unsurprising to us.  When God created everything, before sin entered the world, how did He judge it?  That’s right, Good!  Matter is impacted by sin now – we have fires and flooding rains and a pandemic which remind us of that truth every day – but matter was not yucky according to God.  He fashioned it.  He molded it.  He created it out of nothing.  And it was good!

     That He might destroy the works of the devil and make us children of God and heirs of eternal life – what was the big work of the devil?  It was THE lie.  You have all read it.  We have all placed ourselves in that story.  How does the devil trick Adam and Eve into eating from the fruit?  Does God really love you?  Does God really care about you?  How do you know God wants what is best for you?  Oh, to be sure, the devil points out the good fruit.  If God is good, why does He tell you not to eat that beautiful fruit?  Can you really trust Him?

     We buy that lie all the time, don’t we?  Give us a little suffering; toss in a smidge of persecution—and let’s be honest, give us a bit of consequences for our being jerks, and we are often quick to doubt whether God loves us.  Give us a lot of either, and many turn away from God.  Place yourself in Naomi’s and Elimelech’s shoes.  We are starving.  What can we do?  Maybe God has abandoned us?  Maybe we sinned one too many times as a people, and He has divorced us.  I know!  We can go to Moab.  Crops are doing well over there.  Once they give up on God’s covenant love, how much easier is it to give up on His torah.  Some of us have seen it around us these last couple years.  How many Christians have turned away from God because of privation or the pandemic?  How many have turned away from God because their leaders acted as if their hearts followed anybody’s but Jesus’?  How many forgot they were called by God to incarnate His torah in the world?  The whisper gets louder in ears and draws us away.

     But the Collect speaks to the gulf that we all know is there.  What keeps us from being properly attuned to God?  What keeps us from hearing His voice or seeing His face or feeling His nudge?  Sin.  How could we have closed that gulf given our predilection to sin, to selfish, ungodly behavior?  We could not!  But Jesus could!  The Incarnation was the beginning of our understanding that we could not save ourselves.  It took God saving us to close that gap.  And because He lived that perfect sinless life, you and I know, like the writer of Hebrews teaches, that we are more purified than we could ever be through our own efforts.  In fact, everything, every single promise of God to which we cling depends and depended upon Jesus’ faithfulness!

     All that work of the Incarnation, His suffering, death, and Resurrection, is to make us fit for adoption and inheritance.  No longer does our Lord see us for the sinless wretches we are!  Now He sees His Son in us and us in His Son.  Like the story of the Prodigal Son, we are returned and celebrated.  Like the goel, the kinsman redeemer, Boaz in Ruth, we know ourselves loved and valued and worth redeeming!  We are reminded that He is our Father in heaven, that He wants what is best for us, and that, even when we could not do what was best for us, He was willing to step into the breach!  In reality, the cross stands in diametric opposition to the whisper of the devil in the garden!  We know God really loves us.  We know God really wants what’s best for us.  Better still, we know that God has the power to redeem everything wrong, even death itself!  And because He is good and because He has promised, we know we will inherit His promises.  It may not happen when we want it to happen, or in the ways we prefer it to happen, but it will happen.  And it will exceed all that we ask or imagine—such is His promise.

     Grant that, having this hope, we may purify ourselves as He is pure . . . Here’s the rub, right?  How do we purify ourselves?  The author of the letter to the Hebrews reminds us that we do not purify ourselves.  All of us are made perfect through the atoning work of Christ Jesus.  And, yet . . . do we not have a bit of a role in that effort?  We must choose Christ as Lord.  We ask for the Sacrament of baptism to proclaim our loyalty and accept our obligations of becoming His servants.  How are we purified?  Jesus Himself points to our work in today’s Gospel.  We love the Lord our God with everything we have and everything we are.  And we love our neighbor as ourselves.  And, as our oath at baptism and confirmation reminds us, when we fail, we do what?  That’s correct!  We repent.  We repent and ask God for the grace so as not to fall into temptation again.  Over and over and over again, we are called to repeat this process.  This is the initial wash, rinse, repeat of our lives!

     Make no mistake, our work is simply to try and do God’s will in our lives.  Sanctification and salvation and all those other blessings we tout are gifts of grace.  We cannot do enough to merit those gifts.  By force of will, we cannot become non-sinners.  But, a curious thing often happens along the way.  As we continue in the fellowship, the breaking of bread, and in the prayers, we become more and more attuned to God.  Over time, our hearts and minds become more attuned to Him.  Over time, others begin to note the changes in us.  Tomorrow, we celebrate the Feast of All Saints’.  Think of the saints in your life, the people who were most important in the nurturing of your faith, the people who made sure you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were loved by God.  Did they consider themselves saints?  Did they share stories of their youth when they were a bit more miserable sinner and less a glorious saint?  We laugh because we know the truth.  My guess is that every saint in your life that you thank God for tomorrow would balk at the honor you bestow upon them.  Just as you might balk at the recognition another might offer you.  You see, as we become more and more attuned to God, we begin to recognize just how other He really is.  We begin to realize just how much He loves us, how big His mercy is for us, and how much He wants us to share all that with those around us.  And we begin to recognize our inherent lack of anything to commend us to Him.

     That, when He comes again with power and great glory, we may be made like Him in His eternal and glorious kingdom. . . Part of our prayer and teaching this morning has dealt with sanctification, that process by which we are molded like clay, that process by which we have the dross burned away, that process by which we become more and more imprinted with the heart and mind of our Father in heaven.  But as seemingly holy and righteous and loving as we get on this earth, as seemingly blessed as we may appear to outward appearance, none of it compares to what God has in store for us when He returns to re-create the earth.  At all.  Y’all know I do not focus too much on the eschaton because I am certain it will be orders of magnitude more glorious than I can dream up.  But by virtue of Christ’s Incarnation, Crucifixion, Resurrection, and Ascension, I can say that with certainty.  When an uncrossable chasm existed, that separated me from God, that I could never have filled in or bridged or jumped, He acted to save me and to save you and to save you and to save every single person we encounter in our daily life and work.  Because He acted when we could do nothing to save ourselves, because He was faithful when we were feckless; we know He is trustworthy beyond all doubt.  And because He has shown His power to redeem even death itself, we can trust that He can keep every single one of those promises He has made to us.  What will our bodies look like?  How will we all be kings and queens in His kingdom?  How will we all inherit a firstborn share?  I have zero clue.  But we know, because He loved us, died for us, was raised for us, and now stands at the right hand of the Father making intercession for us, that one glorious Day, even those promises will be fulfilled for us!

     All that from a Collect?  You bet!  From a book we believe to be our single greatest contribution to believers intent on sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the ends of the earth.  We would do well to learn it, live it, and inwardly digest it, that we might do our part to share the Gospel in a land called Nashville.

 

In Christ’s Peace,

Brian†