God makes that which is worthless, priceless!

      I wish I had greater clarity about what to preach this week.  I settled on Philemon because people have been asking questions or commenting on trafficking and modern slavery, and it is an important teaching in our own parish history.  But I could have been easily swayed to preach on the dangers our Christian Nationalist friends should see in Jeremiah’s warning this morning.  And the Gospel lesson might need a reminder that the word translated as hate by our translators today should be more or first understood comparatively.  When clarity is not present, blame the preacher; but do feel free to grab me this week if I did not choose what you needed.

     Today is the only time in the three-year cycle of the lectionary that we read from Paul’s letter to Philemon.  So, if you do not know it or remember it, that can be a large part of why.  Those who like to tease their friends can tell them I preached such a great sermon on the letter today that you felt called by God to read the whole book.  Before you groan, we read all but 4 verses of the book.  So, if someone is impressed that you ran home and read the whole book of Philemon, you know they do not know their Bible that well.  Philemon is actually the third shortest book, when it comes to word count.  I will leave it to you to figure those out for your studying pleasure!

     The entire subject of Paul’s letter is slavery, which is why it has been important in our past as a parish and as those who live in the South.  Of course, the slavery of Rome was different than the slavery of the South in the lead up to the Civil War.  But, as one survivor once reminded me, slavery and oppression are all the same.  Once you lose control of your life, there’s no good.

     To put the letter in context, though, we need to remember that when this letter was written, likely around AD 60, there were maybe 300,000 citizens like Paul and maybe as many as 10 million slaves.  Historians like to argue over the numbers, so you may read there were as few as a 100,000 citizens and 5 million slaves; and you may read higher numbers.  What is important to us is the response to runaway slaves.  Rome was constantly on guard about the numbers game between the upper class and the lower classes.  There was often a genuine worry that the slaves could overwhelm the upper class by sheer numbers.  So, when a slave escaped, it was an event.  Everybody in the community was on the lookout for the runaway slave.  Punishment for capture depended a bit on how the slave had worked prior to running away, any crimes they committed while free, and the on the temperament of the slave owner.  Those that got off the easiest just had to do the most menial jobs after their punishment.  Some returned slaves were beaten and/or branded with an F for fugitive on the forehead.  Some were maimed to prevent future flight.  Some were sold into an Ergastulum, think the worst prison imaginable, or even to gladiator schools.  The perceived worst were killed in tortuous ways, often by crucifixion.

     I assume everyone has seen the movie Spartacus with Kirk Douglass.  That rebellion was the fear of every community in Rome.  Though Crassus eventually defeated the army of freed slaves, and crucified them along the way back to Rome as a warning to others who shared their thoughts, communities were ravaged by the slave army before their defeat.  No one wanted a repeat of that!  That’s the context of our letter today.

     A slave deemed worthless by a man named Philemon, whom we think lived in Colossae and certainly Asia Minor, has run away.  For reasons known only to the slave, he has made his way to Rome, where he has encountered the Apostle Paul, who is imprisoned – we read about that at the end of Acts, for those who want more details.  Paul writes the letter, telling the recipients that Timothy is with them.  That greeting is likely important for two reasons: to let them know that Timothy sends greetings and that Paul’s decision to write this letter is VERY intentional.

     Paul greets Philemon, Apphia, Archippus, and others in this house church hosted by Philemon.  This will be important in a few minutes.

     Paul shares that he prays for them always and hopes that they may perceive all the good that they may do for Christ, and he tells Philemon and the others that the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through them.  All that serves as the leadup to Paul’s purpose in writing the letter.

     Paul states that he could command Philemon to do what he is about to ask, but he wants Philemon to choose to do the right thing on the basis of love.  Yes, Paul plays on Philemon’s sympathies by reminding Philemon he is old and now a prisoner, but Paul really wants Philemon to make the right choice here.  Think weird Barbie and Stereotypical Barbie in the movie last year.  Weird Barbie offers Stereotypical Barbie the opportunity to discover the reason for the portal and to close it or to stay in Barbieland.  Stereotypical Barbie choose to stay.  Weird Barbie offers the choice again.  Stereotypical Barbie again chooses wrong.  Weird Barbie tells her she has to go to the real world or learn to live with cellulite, she just wanted to give her the opportunity to think she was in charge of her own fate.  It’s kinda like that, except Paul really wants Philemon to choose based on love.

     It turns out that Philemon’s runaway slave has made his way to Rome and met Paul, who has shared the Gospel with the slave.  In fact, Paul has so discipled Onesimus that he will be the one returning the letter and risking his life or well-being!  Paul tells Philemon he preferred to keep the slave, but he wanted Philemon’s consent.  And Paul writes that maybe this is why Onesimus was separated from Philemon for a while, so that Philemon might have him back for ever.

     Then comes the big ask: If you consider me your partner, welcome him as you would me.  Charge his debts to my account.  Understand, the who community would be in an uproar over the runaway slave.  Bounty hunters have likely been employed.  Philemon will be taking a real risk, if he does not severely punish Onesimus and make a public spectacle of his return.  That’s likely the reason Paul does not command Philemon but rather prays he makes the right decision out of love.

     Paul is, of course, not done.  Paul tells everyone in attendance he is writing this letter in his own hand.  We have a lot of doctors in this congregation, so we have a lot of illegible handwriting in this congregation.  Paul does not see well.  He always has someone like Timothy or Luke write the letters he dictates.  I have seen his writing on the walls of that prison.  Imagine a doctor’s writing but with peaks and valleys.  You read it going up and down and complain that he cannot write in a straight line.  That’s what Paul’s writing was like.  It was expensive, too.  Papyrus cost money.  Meandering writing wasted papyrus.  This is so important to Paul, though, he writes it himself, aware of the challenge and the expense to drive the point home to Philemon.  Paul knows what he is asking.

     Paul, of course, writes that he will say nothing about what Philemon owes him.  By writing that, he is of course reminding Philemon what Philemon owes him, namely the sharing of and hope found in the Gospel of Christ Jesus!  Like Onesimus, Philemon was persuaded by Paul’s arguments that Jesus was the Messiah of God.  Is it passive aggressive?  Maybe?  I think it aggressive.  Paul has given this letter to be read to the congregation meeting at Philemon’s house.  The leaders have been praised by Paul, as has Philemon, and now Philemon must make a decision in front of them.  Reject Paul and reject the Lord, or do the right thing for the right reason knowing the risks and potential cost.  Paul has set the table to make sure Philemon does the right thing, as many of us often do with our children or valued employees.

     The letter is important in our history in that it was one of the ways in which our predecessors made the courageous decision to allow their slaves to worship at Advent.  Others read, and still read, this letter and, because Paul does not condemn slavery outright, decided God thought slaves the natural order of things.  Quintard and our predecessors read it to understand that a slave cannot truly be a brother in Christ or adopted son of God.  For their understanding and decision, they were labelled Yankee Sympathizers.  They were mocked and shunned.  Initially, they were not even allowed to join the Confederate Army.  But they were correct.  God wants all people to come to Him, of their own free will.  More wondrously, He entrusts that invitation to men and women like Paul or Apphia or Philemon or you or me.  He trusts us to make the right decision based on our understandings of what He has done for us, just like Paul trusts Philemon.

     It is a good story for us individually and corporately.  Like the house church at Philemon’s, our ancestors made good and bad decisions.  Through it all, God was at work, discipling, maturing, and transforming.  It would be a good story if I ended there, but there is a Paul Harvey more to this story as there often is in the Gospel.

     Some in the modern world and Church condemn Paul for not outright condemning slavery, as if he was not a someone in his own context.  We are able to evaluate such things because our context is very different.  Such people like to fuss about Paul in this letter because we do not know how Philemon chose.  Since it was not commanded by Paul, Philemon might have continued to enslave Onesimus and punished him accordingly.

     For the most part, Philemon disappears from history.  He appears in one sentence in the letter to the Colossians, where Paul dictates he is sending Onesimus back.  But that is it.  Except for some other extent writings.  They are not Scriptural so we must acknowledge that we cannot accept them with the same certainty or trust.  But Philemon is listed in early Church writings as one of those killed in the mid-60’s in the great persecution of Nero.  The early Church considered Philemon one of those who was willing to die and eventually did die for his faith.  How do we think such a man would have responded to that letter we just read?  Would he respond out of fear, or would he have responded out of love, trusting God to keep His promises to Him?

     Onesimus’ story is also pretty cool.  Some extant literature has him dying as a martyr with his former master in Colossae.  But other literature speaks of Bishop Onesimus.  On the one hand, we can accept that God was so at work in the life of a useless slave that He transformed that worthless slave into a worthless bishop!  I know, I know, the real play on words is a worthless slave into a useful bishop, but I could not help myself at the joke, and, as one of our 8 o’clockers asked between the services: Can there be a truly useful bishop?  There can, with God’s help and God’s grace!

     If Onesimus died in the Nero persecution, the story is no less amazing.  Within a few short years of our letter, in a world where cell phones, e-mails, texting, and other forms of instantaneous communication did not exist, somehow this story was known.  This letter and its results traveled throughout the Church, and three men took the name Onesimus at their consecration, indicating they wanted to be a useful bishop to God.  Or, given the fact that Onesimus is not exactly a common name, our Onesimus survived, was eventually consecrated a bishop, and served three dioceses.  In either case, it worth remembering and sharing.

     And reminding.  The same God who worked in and through people like Paul, Apphia, Onesimus, Quintard, and all our predecessors at Advent, wants to work through us.  That same transformative grace that made them all worth remembering and considering makes the same possible for you and for me.  Reminded of that truth, and nourished by His Body and Blood, we are sent out into the world to be those clay vessels which He shapes and finishes, and leaves as His marker of salvation in the world around us!

 

In His Peace,
Brian+

On rest and liberation . . .

      It might have been fun to preach on Hebrews like a commercial opportunity, since we are starting Hebrews on Tuesday evenings sometime next month.  I think it was Greg Platt who joked last Tuesday night we could speed up the end of Acts by saying Paul takes a cruise, gets shipwrecked, makes his way finally to Rome, and is acquitted.  There’s a lot in that, obviously, but we are nearing the end.  And Hebrews gives us the two mountains passage this week, which is always good for discussion.  Part of Jeremiah’s passage today is famous, and a few of us might be learning it occurs in the context of God reminding Jeremiah and us that, when He gives us work to do, we would do well not to downplay any thoughts of ourselves.  Though Jeremiah has no real idea how to speak and what to say at the beginning, He is instructed by God that he will be appointed of nations and kingdoms and prophesying destruction and overthrow as well a building and planting.  It will be a heady responsibility, like many assignments God gives His people.

     I was drawn, though, to Luke’s passage for a number of reasons.  I have had an increased share of conversations about miracles at the Y the last couple weeks.  None of them differ from my discussions with Jim Martin over the years, except in terms of obstinacy or perseverance.  For those of you who did not know Jim, he loved to argue that the miracles of Scripture were unbelievable and unnecessary.  For my part, I thought it an act of sorts or a personal ministry.  He would say stuff others were thinking or reading online, especially in Wrestling with Faith.  Our passage from Luke today, though, addresses a number of issues that touch on Jesus’ identity, the teachings of the Church, a lot on the Sabbath, and a commentary on the human will.  I will not be doing a deep dive on all of it, but feel free to ask one of the Tuesday night Bible Study group.  We covered this at length before we read Acts!

     One of the literary devices that Luke is utilizing today is the repeating pattern of a story.  Luke tells similar stories near the beginning and near the end of Jesus’ Ministry in order, among some other reasons, to show us that the human responses we see or experience when telling the stories of the Gospel are no different than those of Jesus’ experience.  They also help remind us that human hearts are human hearts.  Way back in chapter 4, Jesus heals a man in the synagogue who is possessed by unclean spirits.  After that miracle, reports go out among the countryside.  But it is not attractive as we might believe or hope.  People note Jesus’ authoritative teaching and, of course, His authority over the demons, and the fact that He exercises this authority in the synagogue.  That last bit is far more important to Jesus’ audience than to us.  We live in cultures that equate belief in God with superstition.  The ANE culture held as axiomatic the certainty that gods and goddesses had to protect their temples and other worship spaces absolutely!  Were a god to allow anything untoward to happen in his or her worship spaces, they would lose strength needed for the cosmic battles.  Many of those who saw the power over the supernatural and heard the authority in Jesus’ instruction would know for certain that Jesus, at worst, was blessed or commissioned or working for God.  Were Jesus not working for Yahweh, Yahweh would have smited Him there to protect His turf.  Despite the location of the miracle and Jesus’ authority, those who witnessed the event do not begin to follow Him in mass.

     Today, you may be sitting there wondering how people could see such a miracle, hear such authority in His voice, and NOT believe in Jesus.  But such is ever the case.  Human beings are uncomfortable with miracles.  They do not provoke the “deep faith” we like to think they should.  In fact, over time, people tend to convince themselves the miracle was not really what they thought it was.

     Jesus is now nearly three years into His ministry.  The Cross is not too far off.  Once again, Jesus is in a synagogue on the sabbath.  Luke, a physician—in case we have forgotten, blames the woman’s crippled condition on a spiritual attack, just as He blamed unclean spirits on the first miracle of Jesus in a synagogue.  Jesus calls her over and tells her she is set free.  There’s no struggle.  There’s no sweat.  There’s no mumbo jumbo incantation nonsense.  Jesus tells her she is free and lays hands on her.  Immediately she is freed and gives thanks to God!

     One might expect everyone would be amazed or excited by the healing, right?  Once again, though, they are more like us than we would like to believe, especially the leader.  The leader, according to Luke, is indignant and fusses at Jesus for healing the woman on the sabbath.  Jesus reminds the audience and the leader that they are all hypocrites.  I won’t bore you too much, but the Jews had a large number of writings about what work is permissible on the sabbath.  A lengthy discussion in prior generations about agrarian necessities had resulted finally in the ability to walk about 3000 feet on the sabbath.  That discussion and decision, though, had taken place in light of God’s instruction on the sabbath both in creation and in the Exodus.  Sabbath, as far as God was concerned was a reminder of day of rest and of a day of liberation. Mark recounts Jesus’ teaching to that effect, but Luke shares the stories of a man and a woman being freed from supernatural oppression to get the point across to his audience, which includes us.

     I just buried Ellen last week and was reminded of our discussions on the sabbath and her ministry among her friends in the wider Church around us.  Waiters and waitresses, and pretty much any service personnel, hate when Christians enter their doors after church on Sunday.  Many will tell you there is no stingier group of people or people more self-entitled or people more hypocritical than Christians who have just been to church.  They are “enjoying their sabbath,” but that means others are working.  The less than 5% tips are bad enough, but the non-monetary “get a better job,” “if you find Jesus, you won’t have to do this,” “you should get an education,” and other such “helpful” advice was far worse and more dishonoring to God.  One of Ellen’s personal ministries was to get her friends from other denominations to see how that attitude dishonored God and to see how God saw those service personnel, as men and women created in His image.

     Jesus drives His point home by asking, rhetorically, should not this woman, a daughter of Abraham, oppressed for eighteen years, be freed on a sabbath.  It is a short, but effective way of reminding the crowd and us that God uses His power to free those oppressed.  The leader and those who agreed with him, we are told, are put to shame.  But the crowd rejoices at all the wonderful things He was doing.  Just to remind ourselves, though, who puts Jesus to death in a few chapters?  That’s right, the crowd.

     One of the great lessons of this story is the instruction we receive on the sabbath.  The sabbath was made, by God, for all humanity; humanity was not made for the sabbath.  It was commanded because He knew the ways in which we would all be oppressed, socially, economically, militaristically, and a host of others.  His people in particular were meant to rest and remind themselves both of God’s past work to liberate them and His future promises regarding freedom.  How many of us forget this during the week?  How many of us, in this country aflush with Protestant work ethic, enjoy our time away from work or productivity?  How many of us use that time to re-ground ourselves in God and remind ourselves of the promises of rest He has made to those who claim Him Lord?  How many of us drag ourselves to church as if it is “just another obligation” or “thing I have to do,” forgetting how God has freed us from the oppression of our sins, how God has given us eyes to see how the oppressions of the world do not have the final word, how we, among all people, should be the most joyful and most thankful because we understand what God has done in Christ Jesus and has promised to do One glorious Day in the future?

     My friends, you and I live and work and exist in a world that is oppressed, in a world where people choose oppression and darkness, where even those who claim to be Christians choose to oppress others, despite God’s instructions to the contrary.  One of the great ways we honor God for the freedom He has given us is to live as He has called us to live, as if we truly believe we have been set free.  The great oppressor, death, has been conquered in Christ’s Resurrection, but so have the innumerable other oppressors of the world.  We serve people in the church oppressed by hunger or by economic circumstance through Body & Soul, we serve people oppressed by homelessness through Room in the Inn, we serve people oppressed by mental illness, we serve any number of people oppressed in ways we may never know or understand.  Through it all, though, you and I are instructed, commanded even, to take a day and give intentional thanks for the freedom for which God has set us free and to remind ourselves as wonderful as that reminder is, it pales in comparison to the sabbath He intends to offer us on the glorious Day when He returns in triumph!  Make no mistake, it is a lesson that gets ignored by His people throughout time and location, but that forgetfulness is no excuse.  We know the freedom that He has offered us in Christ; we know the freedom we have because we need not fear the oppression of our sins.  Better still, we know that He has chosen us, those whom He has freed, to head back out into that world as a joyful people who understand what God has done for them and who know, in the end, that what He intends for our eternal futures will be far beyond our asking and our imagining!

 

In Christ’s Peace,

Brian+

On the baptism of Forrest

      God made it rather easy to slide back into Advent this week.  I had my choice of three modern sermon illustrations.  The first was within a few minutes and miles of leaving Maine.  There was a horrible crash right in front of us on I-95.  The rear-ender was clearly totaled, but the occupants seemed mostly unhurt.  The car careened off the four southbound lanes and was headed into the woods.  The passenger thought it might never stop or would hit a tree and bailed in the grass on the side of the road.  My family is used to such Good Samaritan events in our life, so David guided our car to the emergency shoulder on the right so I could see if anybody needed assistance.  Thankfully, people were shook up but mostly unhurt.  All I really had to do was threaten the driver that I would tackle her if she tried to make her way to the far left lane to check on the driver and dog of the car that got rear ended.  The lady had given me a thumbs-up as I walked back to the car, but I-95 traffic is I-95 traffic, no matter where you are on it.  People may have slowed to 65-70mph, but they were certainly whizzing between us and kicking up car parts that had ended up on the road as a result of the crash.

     As I finished up at St. Mark’s last week, a lady wanted to speak with me about Advent’s lack of clear articulation of its opposition to abortion on our web page and about the national church’s horrible policy.  That discussion was way too challenging for a homily, but I used our parable today to speak to our neighbors’ needs in different parishes.  We have way more people suffering from food insecurity and address that far more prominently, though we get a good laugh from time to time about the age of most of our women and the thought of them having a Sarai-like experience and giving birth at 100 years of age!  She was not amused, but I did ask if she thought the beaten man in today’s story cared about the Samaritan’s view on any number of subjects like abortion.  That hit home and where our conversation turned productive.

     That left me with an event from a virtual friend’s life.  I will not name him, so do not worry.  And we are not friends in real life, as we have never actually met in person, though we do trade e-mails and posts.  Some of you might possibly recognize his name from online threads and discussions, so I will leave it to him to share his identity.  The crazy thing is that we do not agree on everything in the church.  He might say that I am bit to reformed in my sacramental theology to be a good priest for him, and I would certainly say his love of sung services and smells and bells means he should not be one of those sheep given me by God.  Good!  We also mostly laugh at such discussions.

     This friend exited his gym on Monday in NYC and encountered a gentleman laying on the ground.  Despite our disagreements on some things in church and in the world, I will state that he seems always to be taking his faith seriously, far more seriously than some colleagues of mine and friends of his would like.  This past week, though, he found himself in this position unprepared.  What should he do?  NYC is a much different context than Nashville.  For one, it’s what, 12-13 times bigger than here?  That’s a LOT of people.  That means there are more con artists, scammers, and flat out criminals than we have in Nashville.  That means more people there will pretend to be helpless there than here, hoping to find a sucker or weakling.  Maybe he had a knife?  Maybe he was mentally ill?  Maybe he was really sick?  What do we do if we encounter that need?  If you find yourself worried about how you would respond, welcome to Jesus’ instruction.  Everyone who heard him in Luke’s narrative would have thought the priest and Levite acted understandably.

     I will say that every thought that went through his head was appropriate.  There was a chance a mentally ill person might take out their frustration or anger on my friend, if he offered to help.  It was possible the man was passed-out drunk.  It was possible, too, that he might be robbed.  It’s possible, too, that the individual was in desperate need of assistance, assistance that my friend was unable and untrained to give.  Heck, it was possible the man in question had just decided to sleep in that spot, for whatever reason.  What to do?

      Fortunately, within a few moments of this encounter, an ambulance came careening around the corner with lights flashing and siren wailing.  My friend said it felt like he spent hours trying to figure out what to do, though I am fairly certain it was just a few seconds, and he was embarrassed that somebody had thought to call 911 before he did.

     His real question to me and other clergy was what he should have done to glorify God in that situation.

     In truth, Scripture gives us principles rather than specific instructions.  I could not tell him to turn to 3 Thessalonians 32:3 to see what to do when one encounters a seeming emergency like this upon exiting the gym.  As we continued our conversation this week, I could not even tell him I really thought he had sinned or dishonored God in this situation.  In fact, in the simple act of staying until the EMTs arrived, he had been present, as much as the victim could be aware of his presence.  Maybe that was the role my friend was meant to play in that scene and so glorified God.  As he wrestled with this and the possibility he had unintentionally dishonored God, I could not tell him that I thought he needed Absolution.  I would have granted it were he present with me and could articulate a sin, but I was having a hard time with that.  In the end, I reminded him that we pray to God to forgive us sins unknown.  If there was an unknow sin in this situation, God would forgive him because of His desire for mercy and in spite of our ignorance.

     And then I played priest and reminded him that he would never again hear the parable of the Good Samaritan in the same way.  It would be far more personal from this week forward.  But now he had a chance to consider what he did, bounce his behavior off friends and clergy, and discern what other steps he might take in the future, were he to find himself in a similar situation.  God often disciples us in small manageable steps.  He needed to be prepared for the next similar event.  It was not until Wednesday or Thursday that he realized the parable was assigned for today.

     The story of the Good Samaritan serves as a great parable for a baptism.  Jesus reminds us that our job is to love God with everything we have and to love our neighbors as ourselves as the summation of the torah.  Baptism, in a sacramental way, reminds us of that instruction, and spells out the relationship into which we enter when we are baptized.  Those who heard the parable in the narrative of Luke would have understood why the priest and the Levite passed by, just as you and I understand why my friend struggled in his predicament.  Their likely issue was one of cleanliness as ours is one of safety.  But the reminder is that this is not what God intended.  Even at our very best, God meant for us to experience far more wonders.  Though Forest has no say in the matter today, Robyn and Patrick and the rest of his family and all of us at Advent are promising God today that we will do our very best to help Forest to grow in his love and knowledge of God and his neighbors and that, when he fails like us, he and we need only repent and return to God.  We will be successful, we acknowledge and proclaim, only with God’s help in that effort.  Much of what we do, what the Church calls liturgy, is the work of creating spiritual muscle.  We will incarnate the vow that Robyn and Patrick make today on his behalf and, hopefully, one day Forest takes on for himself at Confirmation.  God will make us signs of the individual graces that our in us, to use a bit more Episcopal language.  At our very best, our words and actions will align, but we remind ourselves this day that sin is ever present, that our values do not always align, and STILL God loves us like He does little Forest.

     In some ways, little Forest is blessed, though there may be times in the future, especially the teenage future, where he disagrees with that statement.  He is being baptized into this community.  We take our calling to love God above all things and our neighbor as ourselves seriously.  The most visible sign of that grace present in us is Body & Soul, a name chosen by Hilary & Nancy to reflect the work to which they thought us called.  We give our neighbors suffering from food insecurity our best, because God the Father gave us His very best in HIs Son our Lord.  We give those whom we serve choice, in part hoping that they, in turn, will honor the choice given them by God and choose to worship Him, to serve others in His Name.  And those working on the frontline of that ministry get to experience the wonder and joy of those whom we serve.  When we offer them steaks or lamb or lobster or fresh produce or ice cream or whatever, and they thank us, we get that bit of insight of the joy and thankfulness which God’s people throughout time and in all contexts are called to evidence in their lives, right?  Best of all, we do all of this as ourselves!  Nobody needs to pretend to be anything.  We are not holy; we are not whom we will be in Christ when He returns.  But we are serving our Lord because He first served us!  We can be ourselves, with a few self-limitations for Episcopal decorum, because we understand at a fundamental level that God loved our uniqueness enough to go through the agony of the Cross on our behalf!  We know what it truly means to have someone loving us and seeing us as individuals worth saving.

     Other ministries, such as Room in the Inn or our work with Insight or our efforts to work ecumenically with the Armenians, the Mar Thoma, and the MCF, or even our efforts to create this sacred space where people can just sit and know that God is near, enable us to incarnate that grace better, through God’s help, in the lives of all those around us, but especially for those who are likewise baptized into Christ’s Death and Resurrection. 

      Though Forest has advantages over some, life will likely not be a bed of roses.  He will make mistakes.  He will sin.  Perhaps the sins of others will impact him.  And then we get to show Him grace.  Fortunately for us, Robyn and Patrick get the bulk of THAT responsibility in young Forest’s life—that’s the big challenge of parenting.  But if Robyn and Patrick and all of us do our jobs, Forest will learn that God uses suffering over and over again to reach others, that God is aware of any suffering he might experience, and that God promises in the end to redeem our suffering for His own glory.  And because God binds Himself to Forest in this sacrament today, he and we know that God shares in the honor and dishonor which he and we experience each and every moment of life.  Best of all, he like we is promised that the baptism into Christ’s death means, in the end, he will be raised with us (hopefully some time in the long distant future) into Christ’s Resurrection!

     Best of all, and maybe craziest of all, God entrusts that knowledge and hope will be passed on by individuals like us and like Forest will, one day, become!  God calls us to love Him with everything and to love our neighbors as ourselves, that the world may know the heart of its Creator and turn to the Lord’s saving embrace.  So often that first step, that first nudge is a helping hand, a compassionate heart.  But such is the hand and heart our Lord modeled for us as He worked His way to Calvary!

 

In His Promise,

Brian+

Be merciful, as our Father is merciful . . .

      God waited until the last minute, but He finally gave me my sermon illustration I needed for today.  Joshua was upset this am as the technology stuff was not working.  Comcast was here for a few hours while we were doing the Vestry retreat, so I am guessing the problem was not yet completely fixed.  Or maybe they created a new problem.  I am of the opinion the Comcast is an unholy owned subsidiary of Satan, as, perhaps, are all the telecoms and probably a few other companies if I spent some time really considering things.  Good.  You are laughing and realize it is a bit of humor and sarcasm with a hint of plausibility.

     Anyway, it drives Joshua nuts when things do not work the way they are supposed to work.  I was trying to calm him down and remember the serenity prayer that my maternal grandmother had posted a couple places in the house and I often heard her say.  I drew a blank, though, in the Vesting Room, which is crazy given the number of AA meetings that have been held at churches where I have served.  I told him the prayer asks God to give us strength and courage to change the things I can and the serenity to accept the things I cannot change and discernment to know the difference.  Then I shared with Joshua, as I was trying to recollect the prayer, that Grandma Kitty said it a lot around me.  I chuckled, as did he.  Then he said it was a good thing that I and mom did not have it posted in our house, because we would be saying it A LOT.

     I share the story not just to give you a laugh and a bit of insight into our family dynamic, but maybe to encourage you to think about your own family dynamics.  Families are crazy good at passing down dynamics and systems.  Counselors make a small fortune off us helping us to change unhealthy patterns and dynamics because they get implanted in us, handed down to us, whether we want them to come to our families or not.  I mean, really, how many of us men swore as kids we would never tell a bad dad joke when we were kids?  Be honest now.  How many of us men are now trying hard to outdo our dads or our grandfathers because we want to be the worst dad joke tellers in our families?  I think a couple of you are going to have to confess, given a few sheepish expressions.  lol  Families are the smallest unit of community, as Aristotle famously observed, so it makes sense that we are shaped and formed, for good or for ill, by those families of which we are a part.

     The Gospel reading in Luke today is very well known.  Many non-Christians even know most of this passage.  And I must confess, I think Robert Jensen, preached a good sermon on this that stuck with me, which is to say, if this ends up being a good sermon, thank him.  If it ends up being bad, that’s all on me.  The teaching comes after Luke’s account of the Sermon on the Mount.  Luke shares that Jesus gave those who heard both blessings and woes.  Rather than stop after pronouncing the woes, Jesus forges ahead to describe a new way of relating.  Really, it is the way God intended in the beginning, but the world has always chosen darkness of His light.

     All of the verbs about how to behave in the face of evil or ill treatment by the wicked are in the present, ongoing tense.  Love, do good, bless, pray, turn, offer, and give.  Jesus is citing a number of activities that happen in the world and instructing His disciples, and us, how to behave in light of what is happening.  Chances are, whatever is causing you anxiety in the world is addressed by one of those present tense verbs.  That is not to say that Jesus’ list is exhaustive.  In fact, Jensen argued that the verbs are meant to draw us in and cause us to add to the list with more specific examples of our own day.  You know, like be patient when the person ahead of you in the grocery check out line cannot get off the phone to check out or maybe still depends on checks rather than a debit card when finally paying.  Whoa, that was a groan!  I'm with you, sometimes I think the sin against the Holy Spirit described by Jesus is when they wait until everything is rung up and THEN they start looking for their checkbook.  lol  Jesus goes on to point out that when we honor people we like, love people who love us, give to people from whom we expect to be paid back, we are no different than the wicked or the sinners.  They treat people that way.  We have a different standard, however, because of the “money statement” of the passage.

     “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”  That’s verse 36 in our passage today, and it is in red letters in those Bibles that claim to stress Jesus’ words in them.  You and I are called into this family, we call the Church or, specifically in our case, Advent.  And it is here that we are expected to practice, to test this old way, the way God intended, for us to live, before we head out into the world to do it for real.  Y’all might not be surprised at the analogy, but you attend a church that has a “we are family” banner hanging from the parish hall walls and a mission statement that stresses our multi-generational effort to make disciples.  Sally shared that observation with the Vestry yesterday during the retreat.  We are a bit unusual in the Church.  But that unusual understanding makes us perfect for the work we have to do out there, manifesting the mercy of our Father in our lives, like any son or daughter manifests any characteristic of their parent.

     What do I mean?  First, that on-going process.  Think of the people whom we know who count themselves Christians because they declared one day they believed or they underwent a believer’s baptism.  When the stress is on the choice, what often happens?  There is not always growth, discipleship, and any manifestation of God’s character in the life of the so-called believer.  Look in the wider world over the events of the last couple weeks.  How many public professing Christians are rejoicing that people are losing their jobs or scared they might be losing the job thanks to the activities of Musk and the President?  I’m talking rejoicing.  A number of non-Adventers shared on my social media these last two weeks the fact that more than 12,000 homes went on the market in and around DC.  They are excited and rejoicing people are losing homes, that children are being uprooted from schools, that communities are being broken up, that uncertainty is being thrust upon people who were only doing the job for which they were hired and trained.  Do they really think Jesus would cheer such activities and results?  Do you?  But if you believe discipleship ends with the choice, it is easier to understand why some self-described Christians do not believe there is work yet to do, formation yet to occur. 

     Or what of the non-attending believer that loves to convince me they are really Christian?  I spend literal hours every year with strangers trying to convince me they are Christian.  Mind you, almost none are Episcopalian; most find their way into my office from other denominations.  My calling, though, as a professional Christian, is to ask if they gather to worship, to pray, to study, and to exhort and be exhorted, to comfort and to be comforted, to share the amazing things God has done in their lives and to hear what our Lord has done in the lives of those around them.  More often than not, they tell me they do not need to be in a community to worship God, that they pray when they need to, and that they can study a Bible any time they want.  The truly indignant, though, will express they cannot gather with others because there are too many hypocrites in the pews.  How many times have you heard me tell them they are right and that we have room for them, too?  When they are not worshiping God, when they are not praying to and listening to God, and when they are not studying what He has caused to be gathered into Scripture, their growth is stunted, or worse, goes in directions it should not, much like a plant that will bend toward a bright light in lieu of the sun.  There’s no worry on their part because they chose Jesus on this date or that date,  He has to accept them.  Because they do not study what He says, they do not understand the fear and trembling with which we work out our faith.  They do not understand the warnings and instructions He gives to all who hear Him.  They have forgotten that Jesus reminds His disciples that in serving the least we serve Him, and that in neglecting the least we neglect Him.  And the consequence of neglecting is not something anyone likes to ponder.  But that is work that begins in the church, where we wrestle with God, where we struggle with His teachings, where we are convicted by the Holy Spirit, and where we have our first glimmers of the transformative grace that He promises to all who call upon Him.

     You are liturgical Christians, so you know this even if you do not think about it.  We pray, we read what God caused to be written, a clergy preaches and teaches on one of the readings, then we re-affirm our faith, confess our sins, are absolved and share the peace.  Then, and only then, are nourished by the Sacrament, by the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.  What we are called to do, how we are called to live, is so counter-the-world, so different, that our Lord Christ on the night before He was betrayed instituted the Sacrament.  He knew before He walked that final path of mercy that led to Calvary.  We need that mystical nourishment, so oppressive is the world in which we live, in order to live in accordance with the perspective and the instructions our Lord gives and expects of us.

     Our first practice of mercy is likely in the Church.  It is in the Church that we are reminded we do not get to choose our families.  In this case, God does.  Y’all are laughing, but only because you had families in which to learn the truth of that axiom.  Church serves the same role for God’s family.  We learn to live out His teachings by working our spiritual muscles here.  Think of the Peace as a good example.  How hard is it to shake hands with or hug or kiss someone who drives us nuts, to say nothing about those with whom we are at enmity?  Yet that is precisely what Jesus instructs us to do, especially in our reading from this day.  And we learn from Paul that approaching that altar to eat His flesh and drink His blood without settling our disputes and asking to be forgiven for our sins, means we blaspheme the Sacrament and His teaching, we reject the mercy that only He can give.  We aggrieve His heart.  “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”

     Over time, as we repeat this liturgy each week, each month, and each year, we come to realize the mercy which our Lord has shown us.  As we ask Him again and again to forgive us our sins, and are absolved, we are reminded of our own need for mercy.  And as we grow in understanding of our own need for mercy, we begin to realize the need of mercy for those around us.  We begin to internalize that they are no different from us, especially in God’s eyes.  And so, in time, we become heralds of mercy or, to use the language of Epiphany, we manifest mercy to those in the world around us, that God might be honored and glorified in our lives, and that others will turn to Him, and be saved.  The style of worship we use, the liturgy which was handed down by the Apostles, steeps us in God’s mercy so that we might be merciful, just as our Father is merciful.

     I get it.  It is hard work.  The better news, though, is that God understands how hard that work is.  He makes it clear in His Scriptures.  He makes it clear in the instructions He gave during the Incarnation.  He makes it clear in our liturgy.  All of that helps us to see in our own hearts our need for mercy.  And then reminded, restored, and nourished in His mercy, we are sent back out into the world to share His mercy with those whom we encounter out there.

     But that hard work comes with the promise of great reward in the end.  It is almost as if Jesus understood the human heart.  If we are merciful, we will be shown mercy.  Or, to use the red letters of Jesus, “for with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”  Those kinds of promises are scary, aren’t they.  How we treat others is how we will be treated by God when He judges us.  Jesus does not add the “by God” at the end.  But all of us have been in families long enough to understand that promise or threat.  God instructs us to be like Him, to repent when we fail, but to be like Him.  We should be mindful when we fail of His mercy and exhorted all the more to be merciful to others, that He will treat us in that loving way in which we long to be treated.  But we refuse mercy at our own peril.  We rejoice at the sufferings of others warned of dire consequences.

     I know today’s teaching is hard.  I get that for some it sets us up to be preyed upon by the wicked and the evil.  Such would be the risk, were Jesus not raised from the dead that Easter morning.  Because He was raised you and I know God’s power and will to redeem all things in the end.  We can show mercy and risk losing everything, even our lives, because we know Christ’s expression of mercy on the Cross and God’s power to redeem even that death.  He demonstrated that mercy to each one of us, long before we called Him Lord.  Reminded of that, and of His merciful heart, we are once again a sent people, sent to be merciful, as our Father is merciful, convinced that He has already conquered those evils which would destroy us or separate us from His presence.  We sent to be merciful, just as He is merciful.

 

In His Peace and Mercy,

Brian+

Invited, Inviting, and Reconciled by Him.

      If you are visiting or just wondering what is happening today, expecting an ordinary Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany, today is special in our history here at Advent and for the wider Episcopal Church as well.  Today, the Episcopal Church remembers the life and work of Charles Todd Quintard, the second rector of our historic parish.  In fact, his leadership during a turbulent time in our nation’s and church’s history, and God’s grace in his life and the lives of those whom he served, is what makes Advent an historic parish.  A number of Episcopalians are working to remove Quintard from your sanctoral calendar.  The thought is that Quintard must have owned slaves since, you know, he lived in worked in Nashville before and during the Civil War.  In fact, Quintard served as the Surgeon and Chaplain of the Nashville 1st Regiment.  How can someone have served in the Confederate army and not have been a bad person, right?  And the mere fact that he and the men of his parish fought against the Union also disqualifies him in the eyes of some.

     In truth, I would not care if they dropped Quintard for good reasons, but people seem lazy and unwilling to hold the lives of modern saints in tension, or, I suppose, they are lazy and do not look too closely at the saints that are described in the Bible.  Take your pick.  What makes a saint a saint is God’s grace at work in their lives.  Choose your favorite hero or heroine in the Bible.  None of them are superheroes of the faith.  They are ordinary men and ordinary women called by God to work which, in the end, is extraordinary and glorifies Him but accomplished through the obedient faith of the saint.

     But I do have those people to thank for this sermon, as do each of you, if you discern this to be inspired by the Holy Spirit.  I received a call about a month ago from someone outside the parish wanting to know what I had to say about Quintard, knowing he owned a slave named Henry.  It was a rather specific question.  Some years ago, I had looked for evidence that Quintard had owned slaves.  I had mentioned in worship and in small groups that I would not have been shocked to see that his wife’s family had gifted her slaves.  She came from a family of privilege in Georgia, and they likely would have thought nothing of providing her with slaves to help take care of the kids or the house or whatever.  But my searches were fruitless.  In fact, all the evidence was to the contrary.  There were no slaves in the Censuses.  Quintard did not show up on the government lists of slave owners.  Circumstantially, Quintard and Adventers were denied in their attempts to sign up for the War initially because they were “known Yankee sympathizers.”  In case you have forgotten your history, that was a horrible slur in the South in 1860, especially here in Nashville.  But Advent’s vestry allowed their slaves to worship with them, even while denying the slaves of those attending other parishes to worship with them.  Later, of course, Quintard was tasked by the House of Bishops with stemming the flow of freedmen to what would become the AME church.  He tackled that responsibility like he did all others.  A number of those enslaved before the War were ordained by him, and a few other bishops, to serve congregations in the South.  In fact, Quintard built a seminary dedicated to forming such men as priests on the campus of Fisk here in Nashville, lamenting but understanding its need.  And Quintard raised prodigious amounts of money to rebuild Sewanee and to build a number of churches in the South.

     I was intrigued and excited, though, because Henry was a rather specific name.  As I talked with this individual, I did some quick searching.  All references online about a slave named Henry belonging to Quintard when back to the same Sewanee website citation, which really was an assertion and not a citation, insofar as we expect in academic circles.  It seemed “accepted” that Quintard owned a slave name Herny, but everyone cited the same unproven source.

     I complained to Brian Stogdill that the annual effort of gotcha had started again.  For his part, Brian looked in the censuses and slave holder lists again.  Not only was Quintard not listed as slave owner, there was no mention of a Henry in his household.  I think it fair to say he was excited to do that digging.  Good.  He is nodding back there!

     That freed me up to follow other rabbit trails for today.  One of the challenges of preaching on the same subject and passages every year is getting stale or boring.  As the good folks at St. Stephen’s reminded me, the Bible is meant to point us to the Living Word, namely Jesus.  It should never be boring or repetitive.  In January, I had no idea for my sermon today.  But God made that rather obvious as I continued my rabbit trails.  Y’all will be the judge as to whether it is stale or exhorting or anything else.

     Our Gospel lesson from Luke today is the parable of the Great Banquet or Great Feast.  The story is well known.  The master of the house plans a feast and invites people.  Everyone is excited to attend when invited.  When everything is ready for the feast, though, everyone begs off.  One invitee buys some property, another purchases some oxen, and another gets married.  They explain to the master’s slave that they have to look at the property or test the oxen or hang out with the new spouse.  You and I would theologically call these BS answers.  Good.  You are laughing.  The master also knows that none of these excuses are real.  Were his invitation important to them, they would have done their work before this day or sent their regrets about getting married upon receipt of the invitation to the feast.

     The master is furious.  So he tells the slave to go to the lanes and alleys, the immediate area surrounding the town or the city, and invite all whom he finds.  The slave does as he is told.  When he reports back, he tells the master he has done as ordered, but the hall is not filled.  This informs us that this a Great Feast, with room and food for lots of people.  Clearly this master is rich, which means nobody would ever NOT show up after accepting the invitation.  The master then sends the slave out into the countryside to pack the room, which the slave does.  Then comes the terrible judgement: those whom he invited, who rejected his invitation, will not share in his feast.  Jesus shares the parable in response to the guy who proclaims, in response to Jesus’ instruction that His disciples should pick the least important seat at a dinner, blessed is the one who will eat at the banquet of the kingdom of God.

     We rightly hear the criticism that Jesus has for those who reject Him and His ministry among them.  Jesus’ signs fulfill the signs foretold by the prophets.  Those who are present, namely mostly Pharisees, should know the signs and who Jesus is.  Instead, of course, they will reject the signs, vote in the Sanhedrin to convict Jesus, and join in the shout of the crowd yelling “Crucify Him!  Crucify Him!”  Like those who came before them far too often, they ignore the instruction of God, or they take the Covenant God made with the ancestors for granted.

     There are any number of issues addressed by Jesus in this parable and the instruction of Peter before this.  But you and I are living in a time of great division and great anxiety and great confusion.  For some, the President’s actions and words are evident that he does not intend to follow the laws of the land.  To others, there is confusion because they voted for him to make America great again, whatever that seems to mean to them, and genuinely wonder why would anyone be opposed to that.  A few others just want people to get along and get back to being Americans rather than people defined by whatever litmus test our two parties are administering in any given moment.  And, to make things more challenging, some are rightfully worrying that a non-elected, unable to be given security clearance, being given access to private citizens data and our payment systems does not end well.  Sound familiar?  Those who attended Advent had similar worries, eventually including the reality that we went to war with each other over our divisions.  I have been asked several times over the last few weeks what we can do about anxiety about access or lack of supervision or about why some do not seem to want to make us great again orwhatever concern Adventers have.  My response, I know, seems a cop out.  Do what God is calling you to do.  But these problems are so big, so complex, and we are so small, how can me doing anything make much of a difference, let alone a significant difference?  God gave me a wonderful example of how one person’s work can make a huge difference in the future.  And it just so happens he was an Adventer.

     There was a battle fought in the fall of 1862 in Perryville, KY.  You students of the Civil War might know it well, but I was unfamiliar with the battle.  It turned out to be the high point of the Confederate midwest offensive back then.  Anyway, there was an artillery duel before the formal battle of Perryville.  Talk to John Womack if you want more description of an artillery duel, but suffice it to say these two units were shooting the Civil War equivalent of big guns at each other while the rest of the armies stayed covered and hoped the artillery guys were accurate with their guns.  The northern unit was commanded by a Colonel Parsons, and the southern unit was commanded by a Captain Carnes.  It was a long battle, but eventually the southern unit managed to destroy all the Federal guns and injure or kill the men manning the guns.  Colonel Parsons, certain of his defeat, strolled to the middle of the battleground, drew his sword, and stood at parade rest awaiting the killing blow.  The rest of the armies, including the Nashville 1^st Regiment, watched this scene unfold.  To Quintard’s surprise, Captain Carnes stopped his men from killing the opposing colonel.  Captain Carnes was certain that such a man of courage should not be destroyed casually.  I should note that Quintard and most others were far enough away not to have heard this conversation in real time.

     Now for the Paul Harvey bit and the rest of the story.  I am skipping years of history.  But Quintard, his consecration as second bishop of Tennessee having been cited by the New York Times as a sign of hope that our country might be reconciled like The Episcopal Church, was invited to preach in New York.  The now Bishop Quintard preached at Holy Trinity, Brooklyn on “Repentance and the Divine Life.”  The then professor at West Point, Colonel Parsons, heard the sermon and was moved to talk to Bishop Quintard.  Their friendship blossomed, and Quintard was invited to speak to the troops at West Point when he visited Colonel Parsons.

     After some time, Quintard realized that God had a call on Parsons’ life and invited the professor to join him in Memphis for tutelage in preparation for ordination.  Parsons eventually accepted and studied under Quintard, much as Quintard had studied at the feet of Bishop Otey.  Eventually, Parsons became the first ordinand that Quintard ordained as a deacon and priest.  We should probably remind Zach of the importance of his, God willing and the bishop consenting, impending ordination!  That’ll make him nervous!  Just to remind us all, Parsons was a Yankee on the Perryville battlefield, later ordained in TN for ministry in Christ’s Church.  After a brief time serving in the diocese, Parsons moved away to a cure outside the diocese.  Seemingly, the close nature of their relationship drawing to an end.

     A couple years later, however, Quintard had a parish in the Memphis area in need of a special kind of clergy.  After much prayer, Quintard discerned that he needed Parsons to serve as rector in that parish.  What was the special need and why was Parsons the priest?  Apparently, among those in the parish included a man named Jefferson Davis and some of his close colleagues.  They had been transplanted, some my say exiled, from Richmond to Memphis in the years after the War, but they were faithful Episcopalians.  Quintard discerned that a veteran was the perfect priest for that church and convinced the now Rev. Parsons of that fact.  Parsons returned to Memphis and served as rector until his death.  A former Union Colonel pastored the former political and some military leaders of the Confederacy.

     You should see your faces.  I know.  It is a cool story, but I should have had cameras pointed at y’all.  I was not finished.  More specifically, God was not finished.  When the Yellow Fever hit Memphis in the 1870’s, it should surprise none of us that Rev. Parsons stayed at his post.  In fact, he stayed at his post until his death by Yellow Fever in 1878.  When you and I have prayed for the Martyrs of Memphis over the years, with the whole Church, we have been praying for the former Colonel Parsons, even though we had no idea of his ties to Quintard.  A former Yankee, moved by God’s grace acting and speaking through Quintard, left West Point to become a pastor and died caring for God’s flock in Memphis during the plague, proving that Captain Carnes words were prophetic.  We did have need of such courage in the future.

     Quit!  I’m still not finished.  Remember Captain Carnes, the Southern commander of the artillery units engaged in that duel outside Perryville?  Luckily for him, God remembered him, too.  Guess who the very first confirmand of Quintard was?  How did y’all guess?  Lol. We are laughing because we see God’s hand all over this.  By me just asking the question, y’all knew right away who Quintard’s first confirmand was.  And the laughter and murmur is contagious.  I understand, but I want you to consider the circumstances a bit more.

     These two commanders fought on a battlefield in a horrible battle.  Our Colonel Womack can describe to you better the carnage wrought by artillery than I can or will during a sermon.  The defeated one marched to the center of the battlefield and stood ready to accept his fate and die.  The victorious commander halts the expected death blow.  Then, a few years later, a chaplain/surgeon who watched the battle is invited after being called to be a bishop to preach in NYC.  There, the two meet, just after the bishop has confirmed the victor in that artillery battle.  The defeated one is moved by the sermon and eventually discerns a call to ordained ministry.  Eventually, that bishop who convinced him to accept God’s call on his life discerns a special vocation for him.  He takes a cure that includes a number of former leaders from the side of the enemy to pastor in God’s name.  Eventually, he dies while tending to his flock during the Yellow Fever and is celebrated by the wider Church for his courage and willingness to die a martyr for God.  And our wider denomination struggles with the proper place of the person whom God used to further His Will in this place.  Talk about irony!

     Each of the three men in this story were involved in a War beyond their ken and influence.  None of the three had any hope of changing the course of history, let alone stopping the War.  All they could do was to do the work that God had given them to do in that place and at that time.  And for their obedience, look at the joy and encouragement we received!  Three men, in obedience to God, became part of that beautiful redemptive tapestry God is always weaving in our midst.  One chose to become a Christian because of the ministry of our former rector and bishop, causing heaven to rejoice.  But we rejoice on earth because we see the improbability of the rest of it and recognize God’s blessing in the midst of that terrible circumstance.  And if God can do that then, what can He now do through one or more of us today?!  How much joy might those who come after us discover in our own obedient faith?

     Which brings me back to Quintard.  Quintard is a challenging figure to modern sensibilities.  He was a known Yankee sympathizer to folks in Nashville in those days, but to those outside this city today, he is a man who loved those whom he was called to serve and the manner of life in the South so much that he was willing to fight for and die for his neighbor.  How can his attitude about slavery every be reconciled with the fact that he enlisted, and urged other men in his cure, to fight for the South?  But the truth is that his rule of life, to use a monastic understanding was simple and rooted in what you and I would call good Anglican worship.  See if you can spot it.

     Quintard wrote, spoken and taught and wrote that one is a sincere Christian if: (1) one endeavors to serve and obey God to the best of one’s understanding and power; (2) one strives to please one’s neighbor to edification; (3) one endeavors to do one’s duty in that state of life unto which it has pleased God to call him or her; and (4) whoever would continue in the practice of these things unto life’s end, it is necessary that one should call oneself often to an account whether he or she does so or not; constantly pray for the grace to know, and to do his or her duty; and to preserve oneself in such a teachable temper as to be always ready to receive the truth when it fairly proposed.  Love God with everything; love your neighbor as yourself; and worship and study God, repenting of those sins which draw us from His saving grace.  It is not rocket science.  Soldiers had different callings than officers who had different callings than leaders who had different callings than citizens who had different callings than . . . you get the idea.  Everyone, regardless of station, could endeavor to please God and trust in God’s grace that all evils would be redeemed, even the evil of slavery or the evil of war or the evils of countless sins he heard confessed as men lay dying.  But for his simple rule and simple teaching, we remember him and those who came before and trusted in the promises of which Quintard was a herald.  Adventers led the Church to abandon pew rents and figure out a different way to budget.  Adventers led the Church in the South by allowing and encouraging their slaves to worship God with them.  Why can’t God choose to use Adventers to glorify Himself in this world, in the midst of these problems and divisions we face?  You have tasted the smallest portion through the pantry work.  None of us expects to end hunger in the world, let alone Middle Tennessee; but those who volunteer can tell each one of us how important we are to those whom we serve.  To what work is God calling you?  To what seemingly impossible work is God placing upon your heart? 

     My friends, trust Him to lead you to what you need to be doing.  Like the slave in the Gospel story today, He is sending us forth to invite all those whom we meet in find in the world around us.  Such is His promised Banquet, that there is room for all.  Like Quintard and Parsons and all those who came before us, He is promising to use you in His effort to reach the world around us!  He is offering you the chance to be a part of that beautiful redemptive tapestry He is weaving over the course of history or, dare we say, His story.  Best of all, He is promising each of us in this season of Epiphany that if we will allow Him to be manifested in our lives, we will become the saints for which those who come after give thanks, not just for their lifetime, but for eternity!  Can you imagine what that Banquet will be like?  Can you imagine our joy and laughter and awe when we hear it told from the perspective of those who had courage to do away with pew rents, who had guts enough to bear the shame of being Yankee sympathizers, who dug deep to help build a bishopric for their beloved rector, who welcomed Constance and other nuns into their homes as they answered the clarion call of Quintard to come and help, who did whatever obedient thing God called them to do in their lives, just as He calls you today.  Heck, can you imagine that they will want to hear your story of His grace in your life, and rejoice, just as we do in theirs?  That is but a part of the invitation he extends to all humanity and with which He has entrusted you and me. 

 

In His Promise and His Power,

Brian+

Everyone needs a little Jesus . . .

      Many of you have already read the story, but I had a fun encounter at Kroger yesterday.  Karen needed a couple things for the chili she was going to make, and we had some other needs, so the girls and I headed to the store.  By the way, for those of you still procrastinating for today, Kroger has chips on sale, buy 2 get 3 free!  You heard me right.  We couldn’t NOT get a lot of chips yesterday—that would have been wasting money!

     Anyway, once we unloaded the chips and other groceries from our buggy into the back of the Pilot, I went to return our cart.  A gentleman in the parking lot said he loved my shirt and my cross.  Those who work out at the Y’s or those who have done big unloads with me will have seen this t-shirt.  It is a black shirt and has Kneelers in yellow lettering.  I thanked him for the compliment and laughed.  I shared how my seminary flag football team was called the Kneelers.  He laughed, but asked if I was a pastor.  When I said I was, he knew why I had the cross then.  But he could not help himself.  He wanted to know more about the Kneelers, whether we had intended to look like the Steelers.  When I told him the seminary was only 12 or 13 miles from Heinz field, he got really excited.  Clearly, this man was wise in the ways of professional football.  Anyway, he then called me over and told me to stick out my hand.

     He placed a small lego-sized figure in a plastic packet in my hand and said that everyone needs a little Jesus these days.  I laughed.  Had it been lego, my kids would have been fired up.  They collect all the lego figures they can find.  Alas, this little Jesus had no lego bottoms.  He just had a little red sash across his body.  I have since learned, thanks to everyone commenting and laughing about it, that these little Jesuses can have green, yellow or purple sashes, at least.  And I learned at church this morning that some of the fancy little Jesuses have “Jesus <hearts> u” written across the sash.

     Much like y’all, everyone on social media was laughing about my gift that fit in the palm of my hand.  I chuckled a bit more ruefully, on the way home, when I realized that God was ministering to me.  I have shared with Adventers that the recent pastoral conversations with those outside the parish have been very disheartening.  I should not be, but I am disheartened by the biblical illiteracy.  I am a classicist.  I am a priest and student of God’s holy Scriptures.  I know people are people and do not pay attention to God as much as they should, but when people drop by the office to have me muzzle a bishop or affirm their understanding that empathy is a sin or that Jesus prefers America over all other people in the world, I really get mad as the conversations continue.  I mean. . . . they should be glad I do not have Holy Fire as a spell.  I would use it as much for the burn after as the initial lightning bolt.  I get where they get these . . . notions.  Either they are listening to wolves or only reading echo-chamber posts on social media.  They are certainly NOT reading their Bibles.  Now, my vocation is to make them engage with God’s written and Incarnate Word.  I understand it.  But, mercy and empathy are sins?  Please, for your “claim” of love of God, read what He has to say.  Pay attention to what Jesus says and does.  Maybe act like He is Lord of your life.  Maybe pretend that, because He was raised from the dead, His teaching and example are authoritative in your life?  Of course, y’all attend a liturgical church that follows a lectionary.  You know these things.

     But I told Bishop John on Wednesday that I am getting really tired of it.  A few other clergy acknowledged their fatigue, too.  But here in a parking lot, I had an unknown stranger reminding me that everyone needs a little Jesus and it’s my vocation to make sure they get at least a little bit.  Why bring up the story first?

     Today’s readings are all about how God works in the common and through “normal” people like ourselves.  Look at Isaiah.  What do we know about him?  Everybody uncomfortable now?  Good.  We do not know much about him at all.  Apart from the Psalter, Isaiah is the longest book in the Bible.  Isaiah is responsible for 66 chapters, but we know nothing about him, other than he was given a mystical experience of the temple and prophetic vocation that caused him to be a champion of the oppressed, a reminder of God’s judgment to the oppressors, and a reminder of all God’s promises.  Anything else we think we know about Isaiah is speculation.  Was he an aristocrat?  Was he oppressed?  What was his occupation?  Nobody knows.  But we all know God made Isaiah His prophet.

     Look at Paul in Corinthians today.  We would say that Paul comes the closest to being someone we might expect God to want to serve Him.  He was a Pharisee and zealot, a student under Gamaliel, a Benjamite, and a Roman citizen.  For all those advantages, though, Paul was THE persecutor of the Church.  He enthusiastically prosecutor those who were blaspheming God by claiming Jesus, a crucified criminal, was the Messiah!  For all his learning and passion, Paul went astray, or kicked against the goads to use Jesus’ language with Him.  Had Jesus not appeared to Paul, who knows what evil Paul might have accomplished!

     Then look at our story in Luke today.  What do Peter and James and John, the sons of Zebedee do?  That’s right, they are fishermen.  They know fishing, right?  These are professional fishermen, like the crabbers on Deadliest Catch.  They know where and when to fish.  They fished all night because that was the best time to catch whatever fish they were trying to catch.  Jesus walks up, sees Peter cleaning the nets, and asks Peter to put out into the water to get away from the press of the crowd.  From there, Jesus teaches the crowd.

     When He finishes, Jesus tells Peter to put down his net in the deep water.  Peter knows Jesus knows about God.  He has just listened to Jesus teach everyone in the crowd about God for some length of time.  He calls Jesus a title that means Teacher in Greek.  Peter does not call Jesus, Fisherman, though.  Again, you are laughing, but Peter does not.  He even answers Jesus a bit sarcastically or passive-aggressively.  We have fished here all night and caught nothing, Teacher, but if you say so . . . He clearly hopes Jesus will not make him put down his nets.  Jesus does, though.  And look what happens!

     Peter catches so many fish, in the daylight and in the deep water, that his nets are about to break.  He catches so many fish that it nearly sinks his and James’ and John’s boat.  In the midst of that haul, Peter realizes that Jesus does not just know about God.  God works through Jesus in amazing ways.  Peter tells Jesus to leave, because he knows he is a sinner.  Jesus tells Peter that from now on, he will catch.  We add “the people” to the catch because of Matthew’s and Mark’s telling of this story, but we miss the humor.  Peter is being offered the opportunity to catch for God instead of fishing, which means failing often, for himself.  Think of it like a Chuck Norris killing versus hunting joke, just 2000 years earlier!  It’s ok if you did not get that one, ask those laughing or the youngsters among us.

     One of the themes running through these readings and my illustration from yesterday is that God works through ordinary people in ordinary ways to accomplish the extraordinary.  Peter, James, and John learn who Jesus is through fishing.  Paul learns who Jesus is through a mystical experience, not completely unlike Isaiah’s mystical temple experience, but that experience is in light of Paul’s passion for and knowledge of the torah and Isaiah’s understanding of Temple worship!  Part of what makes Paul the perfect tool for God is Paul’s incredible understanding of the torah.  Yes, Paul has to meet the Resurrected Jesus to understand, but he does!  From that point on, Paul’s zealousness for the Lord rightfully shifts from the torah to the Incarnation, Jesus, the One to Whom Moses pointed!  Isaiah presumably needed to see God in the Temple in heaven to understand God’s love of the oppressed, but he does.  My friend in the parking lot of Kroger spent a bit of money for a tiny Jesus, but he was inclined to offer me a bit of encouragement about my vocation, having zero knowledge of the conversations I have had with people outside our parish, let alone the bishop and other clergy.

     I suspect God got your attention, I suspect God demonstrated His love and care for you in similarly ordinary ways, even as He called you to witness to Him.  In the last couple of weeks, conversations have shifted.  Adventers are wondering what can they do to remind people that mercy and empathy are not sins, that they are the motivating reason for Jesus’ pattern of holy living among us, with those around them.  People are asking how we will get food to those who are too terrified to let their kids go to school, let alone venture out for work and food, even as other “Christians” cheer that behavior on, forgetting that we are told by God that we are wandering Arameans in this life.  Adventers are asking all kinds of questions of how to speak against, witness against, whatever against evil being proposed as good.  God’s answer has always been simple.  All He asks of us is obedience.  If God is giving us eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts to fight against the suffering of this world, to use Isaiah’s words, we are the ones through whom He is choosing to act. 

     He does not require we pass a test or we have a certain certification.  He does not expect us to be any more than He created us to be.  But because He has chosen us, we know that His purposes cannot be thwarted.  Even if we have fought against His call on our lives for years, all He asks this day is that we repent and do the work He has given us to do, and He will take care of the rest.  In the end, He promises that He will be glorified, that all the world will acknowledge His authority and power.  But more amazingly, He promises that we will share in that glory on that Day, even if it seems like for a time we were fools or spitting into the wind, or even separated from Him by our deaths.  In the end, it is His will that we become extraordinary in the eyes of those who witness our faithful obedience.

     I do not have a lot of certainty about the time between now and that Day.  Y’all know that I do not waste a lot of time dwelling on how I hope that Day, and the life after, works.  He does so much more than I can ask or imagine, I think it a waste of my time and my energy.  My encounter with the guy in parking lot reminds me of that truth.  But of this I am absolutely certain: those in the world around us struggle for relevance and fame and power and wealth.  Those in the world around us backstab and scandalize to increase their importance.  But you and I know the true path to honor and glory and, as the Collect reminds us this day, to abundant life!  That path is cross-bearing.  That path requires faith in the One who went ahead.  By that walking of that ordinary path in our ordinary bodies, we have been empowered by the Holy Spirit, through our faith in His Son, to catch for God.  Each of us has the opportunity to catch others for Him and to be elevated in their eyes, even as we wait for His return and the ultimate fulfilment of His promises to all who proclaim Him Lord.  Do what He calls you to do.  Be that son or daughter adopted through Christ.  And expect the extraordinary in the ordinary!  Expect that He will bless you for trusting Him and obeying Him, just as He has done for countless others who came before us and helped us to meet Him in the everyday of our lives.

 

In His Peace,

Brian+