Fish

 

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 24, 2021

3 Epiphany B 

          As some of you may remember, in June of 2019, back when travel was something we could do, I spent 10 incredible days in London taking a course called “Learning from London.”  The class visited all sorts and conditions of churches, all of which excel at the work of being the love of God in their community.  Not all of them were large churches, by any means.  Some did not even have a building.  One actually meets in a stall in a farmer’s market.  But all of them had learned how to understand the context in which they worked, how to engage people in meaningful conversation, how to listen deeply to the needs of the community, and then how to respond.  All of the churches we visited were finding creative ways to connect people with the love of God by understanding the context of their community.     

          This morning, we hear Jesus begin to call his disciples.  He called Simon and Andrew, who immediately left their fishing nets and followed him.  Jesus told them that he would teach them to fish for people. Every year on or about this Sunday, we hear Jesus tell the disciples that he will teach them to fish for people, and every year, I cringe at Jesus’ words.  While I do not fish, the notion of fishing for people conjures up images of hooks and nets, snaring fish or people against their will, and we won’t even think about what happens to the fish once they are caught.  How this brings people to the love of God is beyond me.

          However, if I think about my Learning from London class, I read Jesus’ words a little differently.  If I put my reservations about hooks and nets to the side and think about how Jesus goes about fishing, the image changes for me. 

          First, in order to fish, the person fishing has to go where the fish are.  Some things about the location of fish are obvious.  They are found in water.  Some things take some learning.  Is fishing in a particular location more effective in deep water or shallow water, early morning or late afternoon, calm water or choppy water, rainy day or sunshine?  Likewise, Jesus often went where the people were, although sometimes they followed him to a deserted place.  This morning, for example, Jesus goes out among the people to find disciples.  He does not sit somewhere and wait for disciples to come to him.  Jesus also went to the synagogue and the temple, and was found in crowds and other places where people gather.  Jonah also went where the people were this morning, walking across Ninevah to proclaim the message God gave him.  And Jonah’s presence among the people was effective, as the people donned sackcloth and proclaimed a fast.  Likewise, we go to places where people gather, to listen and engage in conversation about our faith.  Sometimes those places are obvious, like the Memorial Day parade, and sometimes we need to do some hard thinking about where the people are, especially in a time when people can only gather safely online. 

          Secondly, there is the matter of bait.  People who fish tell me that not all bait is equal, and not all bait works equally well for all fish or in all locations.  Jesus taught and healed, demonstrating the love of God.  Jesus included the outcast and raised the lowly, doing the work of ushering in the Kingdom of God. Jesus fed people, meeting their basic human needs.  Jesus spoke the truth to power.  No one way of connecting people with the Kingdom of God worked for everyone.  Knowing the people was critical.  Neither the Kingdom of God nor the Good News changed, but the method of connecting with the people matched the need.  Proclaiming the Good News in many different ways is important if we want to connect with many different people.

Thirdly, when Jesus called James and John, they were not out fishing.  They were mending the nets, which is an important part of fishing.  Obviously a broken net is not going to catch anything, nor are broken relationships, fractured communities, divided loyalties, racial injustice and division, or a splintered Body of Christ.  This morning, we are reminded that the work of mending nets is also the work of following Jesus, and a necessary part of proclaiming that the Kingdom of God has come near.  There are so many nets to mend these days and we need to make sure that our own differences at Christ Church are differences and not divisions.

          Our context at Christ Church has certainly shifted over the past 11 months.  Of course, we are still in the same physical location, but our new context is one where people cannot join us here, nor can we go to the people at events like the Memorial Day parade or the ice cream social or the Farmers’ Market.  Even if we had not been in the midst of construction, we could not have held Restrooms for Runners on Christmas Eve for the Frosty 5 miler.  We have begun to learn a new context and discover new ways to connect with each other and the community online.  We have looked for new ways to worship, to be together, and learn together.   Our current situation is one that none of us ever anticipated and while we have come a long way, Jesus calls us to follow him further into ever deeper waters to find new ways to be the love of God in our community and beyond.   We have also worked to mend nets as we have tried to think about needs the pandemic has created, what has been broken or further broken, as we have walked for justice and peace in the face of systemic racial injustice, and we have raised money for Open M, Family Promise, and the Peter Maurin Center to help feed hungry people, house homeless families, provide medical care for those without insurance or resources, and serve the homeless when shelters cannot open because of the pandemic.  We have found many nets to mend, but Jesus calls us to follow him and open our eyes and hearts to yet more nets that need to be mended. 

          Go where the people are.  Know the people.  Mend broken nets.  These are daunting challenges in the best of times, and even more daunting when we cannot be together.  But Jesus did not say “Follow me, except during a pandemic.”  Jesus said “The time has arrived and the Kingdom of God has drawn near. Now.”  Jesus did not say “Follow me and I will make your life easy.”  Jesus said “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.”  But Jesus did say “Follow me,” which means that in good times and hard times, during a pandemic, a difficult political season, or when confronting racial injustice, Jesus promises to go first, so that when we follow Jesus into the world, whether online or in person, Jesus will be there.

                                                                                      Amen.

Gather

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
January 17, 2021

2 Epiphany B/Annual Meeting/MLK 

          Five years ago this weekend, Don and I made our first trip to Hudson to meet with the Search Committee here.  Like today, it was Martin Luther King weekend and annual meeting weekend.  We had wonderful conversations, very fine meals, a tour of the greater Hudson area, and finally a tour of the physical plant.  I remember seeing the annual meeting reports stacked on a table under the lectern, telling the story of the parish over the past year.  But one of the things that does not usually happen in an interview for a rector is an experience of worship.  I remember standing in this church that weekend wondering what the church feels like when everyone is here, gathered for worship.  Is there energy?  Do people sing?  What does worship here feel like?  We came back and met with the vestry, negotiated a letter of agreement, made plans to move and arrived in Hudson, excited to be here, but we still had no idea what the gathered body of Christ Church would be like in worship. 

          This morning, Jesus goes about gathering up people.  He has already found Andrew and Simon Peter when the story picks up this morning. Jesus finds Philip and says “Follow me,” which Philip does, no questions asked.  Philip finds Nathanael and proclaims that “we have found the one about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.”  Nathanael was not impressed.  Only when Jesus actually recognizes something good in Nathanael-that he is a person with no deceit-does Nathanael recognize Jesus as the Son of God.

          Why does Jesus call disciples to follow him?  He doesn’t need them in order to be able to turn water into wine, or fish and bread into a meal for thousands, or raise Lazarus from the dead, or walk on water, all of which happen in John’s gospel.  They are not a lot of use to him at the cross, although Jesus does give his mother to the beloved disciple and the disciple to his mother.  So why does Jesus gather disciples?

          Perhaps the answer is found in Jesus’ words later in the gospel after he washes the disciples’ feet.  After Jesus has washed their feet and foretold his betrayal, and after Judas has departed from the room to betray Jesus, Jesus says “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.’”  Perhaps Jesus has gathered disciples so that he could love them and teach them to love with the transforming, sacrificial love of God.  Then, through their love for each other, even in the midst of betrayal, the world will know the love of God.

          What Don and I discovered once we finally arrived in Hudson and got to worship here is how very much love there is here, and the way that love is experienced when the church gathers.  What I quickly learned is that the love for each other is quickly and easily shared with those who are new to the church as visitors are welcomed and made to feel at home.  The love for each other spills over when there is a need in the community, such as for food for the Hudson Food Pantry, or workers for Habitat, or knitters who knit for peace, or people who make lunches for Open M.  By these actions, the world experiences the love of God at work.

          At Christ Church, we know how to be a gathered community.  We know how to worship together, how to serve together, how to learn together.  But the past year has really tested the depth of our commitment to live as a gathered community as the pandemic has kept us physically separated.  A year ago, I could have been right there with Nathanael who said “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” except that I would have said “Can anything good come out of Zoom worship?”  Or Zoom vestry meetings, or Zoom EFM or bible study, or Zoom compline or healing services, or Zoom conversations about racism, or a Zoom Talent Show, for that matter.  But over the past year, time and again, the people of Christ Church have risen to the occasion, supporting outreach ministries, taking advantage of educational opportunities, having challenging conversations about race, coming together for all kinds of worship, leading a major construction project, and finding ways to connect with each other.  Jesus has gathered us, however we gather, to be the love of God for each other and for the world. And yet, at the same time, we still have much to learn about how we reach out with the Good News when we must reach out in a new dimension when we cannot gather physically.  One of the vestry’s goals for 2o21 is for us to learn new ways to welcome people to our online presence.  A second goal is to find new ways to reach out and serve those who have been hit hardest by the pandemic.  Jesus has gathered us so that the world can see God’s love though our lives.

          This weekend is also Martin Luther King Jr. weekend.  We also find ourselves at the end of an exhausting, stressful, and unnerving couple of weeks in our national life.  Images of hate and darkness fill the news.  My favorite Martin Luther King quote, which I use on this Sunday every year, seems especially poignant this year.  In his 1957 speech “Loving your enemies,” King said “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate.  Only love can do that.”  Dr. King dd not expect squishy or sentimental love to drive out hate.  The love Dr. King proclaimed and lived was transformative, sacrificial love, love that has the courage to speak the truth to power and love that brings us closer to the Kingdom of God Jesus proclaimed where every single person is valued as a child of God.  In the end, Dr. King gave his life to overcoming the darkness and hate of racism, and to all appearances, darkness and hate won, just as darkness and hate have appeared to win over and over again in the past year.  And if the work of dismantling racism stops, darkness and hate will win.  But the work has not stopped and in many ways that work has intensified over the past year.  That work is rooted in shining light on the darkness of hate and fear and living as one beloved community of humankind.

Jesus gathered disciples, and Jesus gathers us, whether gathered here physically or physically distant, to teach us to love with God’s transformative love, so that the world can experience that love through our lives.  That love requires courage, sacrifice, and real work.  Jesus calls us to that work, and Jesus needs us for that work.

                                                                             Amen.

Voice

 

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 10, 2021

 

1 Epiphany B 

          One of the most wonderful memories of my childhood and early adult years is the sound of my grandparents’ voices calling my name.  I can still hear those voices all these decades later. My maternal grandmother, who we called Moomie, had a lovely and distinct southeast Alabama drawl.  My maternal grandfather died when I was two years old, so I have no memory of his voice.  My paternal grandfather, who we called Pop, had what was left of a Texas accent after decades of living in New York and New Jersey.  My paternal grandmother, Meme, had a central Arkansas accent, different from the accents in the four corners of the state, and hers was raspy from a lifetime of nicotine use.  These voices all spoke my name in a way that told me I was loved and made me want to be my best self for them.  I treasure those voices in my heart to this day.

          This morning, we either hear or hear about the voice of God in three of our four readings.  In the passage from Genesis, the voice of God calls light into being, which God saw was good, then God separated the light from the darkness, creating the first day.  In the very first words of scripture, we learn that the voice of God is powerful and creative.

          Psalm 29 tells us that the voice of God is a powerful voice and a voice of splendor that can break the cedar trees, split flames of fire, shake the wilderness, and make the oak trees writhe.  The voice of God is not anything to be messed with.

          And in the passage from Mark’s gospel, after Jesus has been baptized by John in the Jordan and as he is coming up out of the water, after the heavens open and the Spirit descends as a dove, we hear the voice of God say, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”  We hear the voice of God claim Jesus as God’s own son, declare him beloved, and proclaim that God is well pleased with Jesus.  The voice of God is a powerful voice. 

          This week, we have heard many voices.  We have heard the loud, harsh voices of a mob storming our capital building, shaking the foundations of our democracy.  We have heard the voices of our leaders condemning those actions and calling for accountability, justice, and truth to prevail.  We have heard the voices of leaders around the world, pained by the assault on our nation’s capital.  And we have heard the voices of those who support the intent of the mob to overthrow a democratic election, even if some of those voices do not support the actions taken.

          In the midst of the cacophony of voices this week, where is the voice of God?  How do we discern which voices are the voice of God, indicating what God would have us do, and which voices draw us from the love of God.  God’s voice may always tell us we are beloved, but God’s voice does not always tell us we are right.  Where is the voice of God separating the light from the dark or splitting flames of fire?  All of the voices we have heard this week believe they are right.  But where is the voice of God?

          Today is the Feast of the Baptism of Jesus.  Were we not in a pandemic, we could well have a baptism to celebrate today.  In baptism, we are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever, as Jesus himself was sealed by the Holy Spirit when the dove descended on him and the voice of God claimed Jesus God’s own beloved son. 

          What happens after Jesus is baptized?  The very next verse in Mark’s gospel tells us that immediately after his baptism, Jesus is led by the Spirit into the wilderness.  Mark’s gospel only tells us that Jesus was in the wilderness for 40 days, was tempted by Satan, and angels waited on him.  But both Matthew and Luke tell us that in the wilderness, Jesus was tempted by the power of evil, or Satan, to prove that he is the Son of God by claiming special powers, protection, and privilege.  Jesus resists every temptation to claim anything special for himself.

          Jesus does not have to pass a test in the wilderness in order to be baptized and claimed as God’s beloved child.  Rather, Jesus goes into the wilderness on the heels of his baptism. The power of Jesus’ baptism strengthens him to withstand the power of evil that tempted him with the belief that his identity as the Son of God afforded him special power, privilege, and protection.  The voice of God that claimed Jesus as God’s own Son and the power of Jesus’ baptism sustained Jesus when tempted in the wilderness.

          We find ourselves in a wilderness this week.  Actually, we were already in the wilderness of Covid-19 with all of its temptations to claim individual comfort and privilege over the common good.  Now another layer of wilderness has been added by the unimaginable events in Washington this week.  The voice of God reminds us that we were sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism, marked as Christ’s own forever.  We were given the power in baptism to overcome the temptations in this wilderness to claim any special power, privilege, or protection for ourselves and instead to work for the good of all, the common good.  Seeking and serving Christ in all people and respecting the dignity of every human being, resisting evil and proclaiming the good news with word and action, working for justice and peace, and continuing in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, all of which we have all promised to do in our baptismal covenant, mean putting the good of every human being, the common good, above our own individual wants and desires, even in the wilderness, and fighting against the powers of evil that seek to divide us.

          The voice of God is a powerful voice that tells us we are beloved and calls us to be our very best selves, not for ourselves alone, but for all people. That is the voice that has claimed us and made us God’s own in baptism, not for special power or privilege, but to resist evil and proclaim the Good News as we promise in baptism, even and especially in the wilderness.  The voice of God calls us to claim the power of our baptism and make a gospel difference for the good of the world.

                                                                                                Amen.

 

 

 

Tips to Travel By

 

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 3, 2021

2 Christmas B 

          Last week, I spent some time writing my report for our annual meeting, which happens right here on Zoom two weeks from today.  Our annual meeting is a time to look at the year that has gone by as well as look to the future as we pass a budget for the year and elect new vestry members and delegates to our diocesan convention.  Thinking about the year that has gone by was not so difficult.  There were lots of challenges and together we figured a way around or though most of them.  Thinking about the year to come was different, however.  This time last year, we thought we knew what the year ahead looked like.  We thought we had plans and goals and ways to make those happen.  Ha!  At least this year, we know we don’t know exactly how the year will go down, when we will get to regather and open our new space, how long we will need to wear these uncomfortable yet lifesaving masks, or when we can sing again.  What we do know, however, is that the future will look different from the past, not just because life will have changed, but because God always calls us forward into new life, never backwards into old ways.

          This morning, the magi from the east are looking for Jesus, the child born king of the Jews, so they can pay him homage.  At the end of the day, I believe that we, too, are looking for Jesus as we look to a new future.  As a church that promises in baptism to seek and serve Christ in all people, the end goal of all that we do, is to recognize Jesus in our midst.  I believe the story of the Magi and their travels gives us some tips on how we are to travel forward into our new reality. 

First, the magi have travelled from the east to pay homage to the child born king of the Jews. Why? Because they saw his star at its rising.  The child is not their king, yet they were willing to follow a star and travel a great distance to pay him homage.  Travel was dirty, slow and exhausting in those days, under the best of circumstances. Nothing about it was convenient.  So right away, we know that the magi must have a sense of adventure that sets them off to follow a star to find a king.

          Secondly, the magi were willing to take a risk. They were following a star for a thousand miles or so to find a baby.  That sounds a lot like looking for a needle in a haystack to me and the risk of failure seems high.  Also, if the magi knew enough to follow a star to find a king that was not their king, then they likely knew enough to know that asking around in Jerusalem for the child born king of the Jews was going to provoke some fear in the current king.  As Yoda, my favorite philosopher, says “Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate.  Hate leads to suffering.”  Yoda could have been thinking about King Herod with those words.  The magi’s’ risk pays off as they find the child they have come to see.  They were not afraid but trusted the guidance of the star to lead them to the child. 

          Thirdly, the magi traveled together.  Tradition tells us that there were three magi as three gifts are mentioned.  But no where are we told that exactly three magi showed up.  Likely they had many traveling companions, perhaps caravans that carried supplies for the journey.  But the magi spoke and acted as one body, following the star together, inquiring about the child together, going to meet with Herod together, setting off to Bethlehem together, experiencing overwhelming joy together, and offering their gifts together.  Then, warned in a dream not to return to Herod, together they went home by another road.  Wherever God was guiding them, they went together.

          A sense of adventure, a willingness to take risks, and their commitment to travel together got the magi to the baby Jesus.  The most important piece of the story, however, is what they do when they finally arrive at the house and find Mary and Jesus.  The magi kneel down, pay him homage, and give him gifts fit for a king.  When they find Jesus, they ask him for nothing, giving no thought to what Jesus might be able to do for them.  Instead, they offer him themselves in their homage and their wealth in their gifts.  They are not the least bit concerned with the effort they have put into getting there or how they will get home.  Their focus is completely on the child.

          As we stand on the cusp of this new year, a year that holds a lot of both promise and uncertainty, a year that calls us to let go of the past and look to the future, the story of the magi gives us some tips to travel by.  We are called to a sense of adventure as we discover the new life into which God calls us.  Our travels may be dirty, slow, exhausting and inconvenient, too, but that is the price of adventure.  We are called to take some risks and try new things, knowing that not everything we try will be successful, but failure does not mean that we have not been faithful.  We are called to travel this journey together, just as we have traveled many prior journeys together, looking out for each other and looking for the way forward together.  But primarily, the story reminds us that in all that we do, we are looking for Jesus, and how we are called to pay Christ homage in all people.  As we look to a future with beautifully renovated buildings, a future in which progress will no doubt come more slowly than we would like, and a future with perhaps more unknowns than knowns, the story of the magi calls us to keep our focus on what we can offer Jesus, together. 

                                                                   Amen.

 

The Story Holds

 

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

December 24, 2020

 

Christmas Eve 

          Advent 2004 was brutal in the parish I was serving at the time.  In the course of the first three weeks of Advent, we lost three beloved parishioners.  The last was a 10 year old child who was killed in a freak accident with her horse.  Week after week we did exactly what we would do here.  The Altar Guild set up the altar, changing the hangings from Advent blue to resurrection white and back to Advent blue, setting out the silver eucharistic vessels in place of the simpler Advent ones, and preparing the church. Advent greens were replaced with flowers, which were replaced with greens for Sunday.  The ushers and greeters prepared to welcome people from the community and beyond.  The reception committee stepped forward week after week to put on an appropriate funeral spread for all of the guests.  The choir came together and sang, acolytes stepped up, and Saturday after Saturday the church rose to the occasion, all the while also preparing for Christmas.

          As luck would have it, the same Christmas about a foot of snow fell on December 23, complicating preparations and making us wonder if we would even be able to have Christmas Eve services.  That year, for some reason that completely escapes me, we thought it would be a nice touch to have live animals in the children’s Christmas pageant, which also happened on Christmas Eve.  We had llamas, sheep, dogs, and I forget what else all lined up.  That sounded like a great idea back in September when we planned the pageant. 

          We arrived at Christmas Eve that year sad, broken, angry, frustrated, tired, and all the other feelings that come with great grief.  The person who plowed our parking lot was diligent and had plowed every couple of hours during the snowstorm to stay ahead of the accumulation, so we had parking.  The streets were sort of clear, passable at least.  And to our amazement, people-and animals- showed up.  Exhausted, grieving people made their way to the church, which took some effort given the snow.  I think we all wanted to know that someway, somehow, the story of the baby in the manger meant something, that God had really been born in our midst, and we were not alone.

          And here’s what happened.  In the midst of our grief over our deep loses, our frustration with uncooperative weather, our fatigue from trying to balance way too many events and feelings, the Christ child was born.  We experienced the Christ Child in the joy of the children and the patience of the animals, the magic of the music, the light of the candles, the presence of each other, and the story that is the same year after year.  The angels sang, the shepherds traveled, and Mary and Joseph marveled.  We heard the words of Isaiah “For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace.” And there was peace in our broken hearts that night.  In the midst of a very difficult season, the Christmas story held.

          I have been thinking about that Christmas 16 years ago a lot lately.  This night we gather, not in person as we long for, but on Zoom and Facebook live in the midst of a very difficult season.  Perhaps we wonder if the Christ Child can actually be born virtually.  We grieve the losses of the past year, whether of loved ones or a way of life or freedoms we once took for granted.  We are frustrated and sad that we cannot be with our loved ones this holiday season the way that we long to do.  And we are sick and tired of masks and social distancing.  And yet, despite all of our grief, frustrations, and fatigue, the Christ Child is born in our midst.  Mary and Joseph make their very inconvenient journey to Bethlehem as we endure the inconveniences of a pandemic and trying to worship together on Zoom and Facebook Live.  The angels are singing this night through the hymns we hear and sing.  The shepherds travel to Bethlehem to see the baby Jesus and to tell Mary and Joseph all that had been told them just as we hear the ancient story once again.  Mary and Joseph ponder in their hearts all that has happened just as we look into our hearts to find the Christ Child in our midst.  And, through our candles, the light of Christ shines in the darkness. 

          The good news of Christmas is not that the Christ Child is born in our midst when everything is convenient and perfect.  The good news of Christmas is that Christ is born in our midst when the world looks dark and scary to proclaim that there is a light that shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot put the light out.  The good new of Christmas is that the story of the birth of Jesus holds, even when tested in the darkest and most trying of times.  The good news of Christmas is that in the birth of this tiny child, God is most certainly with us, both this night and always.

                                                                             Amen.