Community

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

February 12, 2017

6 Epiphany A

          When I was in seminary, every Monday night was pancake night.  Between our family of four and any number of our seminary friends, somewhere between 8-12 people would gather around our dining room table for a meal of chocolate chip and banana pancakes with peanut butter and syrup.  I honestly do not know how the tradition began, other than the fact that Don and I had two young children and pancakes made for a popular and inexpensive meal.  But somehow the pancakes became an event in themselves, and each Monday night a small community would gather for this simple meal and to share our lives.  Our children loved their grown up friends, and our friends loved being at a dinner table with children.  Over the course of two years, this group of friends shared not only the challenges and joys of seminary life but also the challenges of sickness and heartbreak and the joys of new life, accomplishment, and romance.  While we learned a lot of theology, scripture, church history and the other things a person goes to seminary to learn, we also learned about the power and importance of community.  

On the surface, this morning both Moses and Jesus make it sound like the life of faith is about following rules.  As the people stand at the edge of the Promised Land, after wandering in the wilderness for forty years, we hear Moses say “If you obey the commandments of the Lord your God that I am commanding you today, by loving the Lord your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, then you shall live and become numerous, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to possess.”   Success of all kinds seems to hinge on obeying the laws.   Jesus takes the laws of Moses and intensifies them, telling the people that not only are they not to commit murder, they are not to be angry or even insult another person.  Not only are they not to commit adultery, they are not to even look at another person with lust.  And the penalties Jesus’ describes for breaking these challenging rules seem downright cruel.  The fires of hell, prison, tearing out an eye, cutting off a hand…where is the Jesus who said “Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest?”  Jesus is wearing me out this morning and the life of faith seems very complicated.

          While both Moses and Jesus are talking about laws that God has given to order our lives, neither Moses nor Jesus believes that the life of faith is about following rules.  The life of faith is about living in community with God, each other, and the world around us.  For Moses, obedience to the law is not about how an individual is in individual relationship with God.  God’s commands describe the way faithful people are to be in community with God and each other.  God’s laws are designed so that the community is healthy and faithful.  And choosing to be in faithful community with God and each other is to choose life, even in the midst of adversity.

          The first words of Jesus’ public ministry were “Repent.  For the Kingdom of Heaven has come near.”  Jesus is setting standards for the community that is the Kingdom of Heaven.  In the Kingdom of Heaven, even as experienced on earth, not only do people not murder each other, they treat each other with dignity and respect, choosing not to let anger and insult divide them.  Not only do people not commit adultery, they do not use their words or even their thoughts to objectify other human beings.  No one treats another person as property that can be cast aside, and people are as good as their word.  To live in a community built on these principles is to live in the Kingdom of Heaven.  As with the words of Moses this morning, the life of faith is not about following rules, but about living in faithful community with others and with God. 

          While Moses and Jesus may sound a bit extreme, especially given the dire consequences they both describe for those who make the wrong choice, the way of being in community that they describe is no different than the community we promise to be in our baptismal covenant.  We promise to live in community with God, each other, and the world around us by being faithful in worship and prayer, by resisting evil, by proclaiming the Good News with our words and our lives, by seeking and serving Christ in all people, and by respecting the dignity of every human being.  When we live together this way, we obey the commandments of God.  We don’t live this way in order to receive life, but because God has already given us life.  We live in faithful community as a to response to that gift and to support each other in our quest to live as people of the Kingdom of Heaven.  And because our lives will take twists and turns beyond our control, and we will experience both joys and sorrows we did nothing to deserve, and the life of faith will place demands on us that we cannot imagine, God tells us how to live in community in a way that will sustain us and give us life.  And in that community, we may just find the Jesus who said “Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

                                                                             Amen.

          

Mosquito

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Episcopal Church

February 5, 2017

5 Epiphany A

          For a good number of summers, I had the privilege of serving as the chaplain at 4^th and 5^th grade camp in the Diocese of Southern Ohio.  One summer, we did a project with the children to help them understand the importance of things that are small.  We divided the children into two groups and gave each group the recipe for chocolate chips cookies, along with the ingredients, measuring spoons, and all the other things they needed to bake the cookies.  The recipes were identical except that one recipe called for ½ teaspoon of salt and the other called for no salt.  The salt was the smallest of all the ingredients, so the children could easily think that omitting the salt would not make a difference.

          The children diligently followed the recipe, measuring and mixing the ingredients, scooping the dough onto the cookie sheet, and baking the cookies.  When the cookies came out of the oven, both batches looked pretty much the same.  The difference was in the taste.  The cookies without salt tasted flat, less sweet, and basically like something was off.  They were not terrible, but the cookies made with the salt were full of flavor and tasted the way chocolate chip cookies should taste.  The very small amount of salt made a big difference in the taste of the cookies, which is why we eat them, after all!

This morning, Jesus says “You are the salt of the earth.”  In the ancient world, salt was a luxury item used primarily for two things: the preservation of food, since there was no refrigeration, and to give taste and flavor to food.  In the Hebrew scriptures, which were, of course, Jesus’ scriptures, salt was a symbol of permanence and purification.  The covenant between God and the Israelites is referred to as a “covenant of salt” in the book of Numbers as the people travel through the wilderness.  The salt symbolized the permanence of God’s covenant with the Hebrew people, a covenant that God will keep even when the people do not.

Interestingly, Jesus does not say to his disciples “You will be the salt of the earth,” or “You should be the salt of the earth.”  Jesus is not making a request.  Jesus is stating a fact: “You are the salt of the earth.”  I wonder if Jesus is telling his disciples and us two things about our role as his followers.  First, Jesus is saying that the lives of his disciples demonstrate the flavor and taste of following Jesus.  That does not mean that Jesus’ followers have to be nice all the time.  Jesus certainly wasn’t.  But, as followers of Jesus, our actions give the world the flavor of what we believe Jesus values.  Secondly, when Jesus tells the disciples that they are the salt of the earth, Jesus tells them that they are how the world knows what the covenant between God and God’s people looks like.  Whether we like it or not, and on good days as well as bad days, our actions as people who claim to follow Jesus tell the world about the permanence of God’s love for humankind.  On the one hand, our lives are not to make it look like God is happy with everything we humans do. Because God is not happy with everything we do.  But on the other hand, if all the world sees in our words and actions are judgement and condemnation without hope, respect, and love, the salt of the earth is not being faithful to God’s steadfast love.  And just when we think we might rather play it safe and just be a hidden symbol of God’s love, Jesus tells us that we are also the light of the world.  We are to let our light shine before others so they may see our good works and glorify God.  We can run, but we cannot hide.

If we struggle with how to be faithful salt, we are in good company.  God’s chosen people are wrestling with a similar question in the reading from Isaiah this morning.  The Hebrew people are trying to be faithful and uphold their covenant with God by observing all of God’s laws about diet and worship.  Those laws were given to the people as a way of making all of life holy and pleasing to God.  But God is not happy with the people, because something is missing.  The people may have been worshipping faithfully and following the dietary laws, but those faithful behaviors were not being translated into everyday life and the way they treated other people.  Listen to the words of Isaiah: “Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?”

           We heard something similar last Sunday when the prophet Micah said “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”  Jesus tells us this morning that he has come not to abolish the law and the prophets, but to fulfill them.  Over and over again, the law and the prophets tell us that the actions of our lives matter to God.  Our worship, our study of scripture, our spiritual practices and the fellowship we share with one another are all vitally important because they form the actions of our lives.  And the actions of our lives are what engage us with the world around us.  And our engagement with the world is what makes us the salt of the earth.  When we think that what we do as one single, small Christian doesn’t matter, remember both the power of a small amount of salt and the words of the Dalai Lama “If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.”

                                                                   Amen.

          

Do Justice and Love Kindness

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 29, 2017

4 Epiphany A

          When our older son Slocomb graduated from college, he and his then-girlfriend, now wife spent a year teaching English in Cuenca, Ecuador.  Don, Caldwell, and I flew down on Christmas Day that year to spend the week with them.  We landed in Guayaquil at midnight, so we didn’t see much between the airport and the hotel.  But on the drive from Guayaquil to Cuenca the next day, we saw both breathtaking beauty and heart wrenching poverty.  We saw homes that were nothing but shells of buildings-no windows or doors-with livestock roaming in and out of the yards and the houses.  We saw children who clearly had little to eat or wear.  In Cuenca, people were begging in the aisle of the church during worship.  When we returned to Guayaquil for a couple of days at the end of the week, children as young as 2 or 3 years old would beat on the sides of the taxi, begging for money.  Living in a part of Ohio poor enough for all children to receive a free breakfast at school, I thought I had seen poverty.  Our trip to Ecuador was a shocking eye opener to the realities of poverty in countries with no safety nets for those without food, education, decent housing, or medical care.

          When I hear Jesus words this morning, my first thoughts are of the children in Ecuador.  Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.  Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who mourn, and the meek.  What is Jesus thinking?  Is Jesus glorifying poverty?  Wouldn’t Jesus rather children have full bellies and a place to live than some sort of blessing?  There is nothing glorious or blessed about abject poverty.  What could Jesus possibly mean?

          First, this morning we hear Matthew’s version of the beatitudes, not Luke’s which are more familiar.  In Luke, Jesus looks at a great crowd of his disciples, and says “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the Kingdom of God.  Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.  Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.”  Luke’s beatitudes are about real, physical poverty because Luke’s focus is on bringing good news to the poor.  In Luke’s gospel, the first thing Jesus says after his temptation in the wilderness is “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has sent me to bring good news to the poor.”  But Matthew’s agenda is different.  In this gospel, the first words out of Jesus’ mouth after the temptation in the wilderness are “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven has come near.”  Then Jesus calls his disciples, and goes through out Galilee teaching and healing people of every disease and sickness.  Huge crowds of people begin to follow Jesus and bring him their loved ones who need healing.  When we get to the beatitudes this morning, Jesus has gone up on a mountain away from the crowds, with only his newly called disciples, to teach them about being disciples.  There Jesus describes the Kingdom of Heaven that has come near. 

          According to Matthew, the Kingdom of Heaven, belongs to those whose spirits are broken and who mourn, not because they are poor, or physically hungry, or have lost a loved one.  The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who recognize that the Kingdom of Heaven has come near in the person of Jesus, but they mourn because they know that the reality of that Kingdom is so very far away.  The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to the merciful, the peacemakers, the pure in heart because they are the ones working to make the future kingdom a more present reality.  Jesus is teaching his disciples both what the Kingdom of Heaven looks like and what they need to do, as his disciples, to live as people of the Kingdom of Heaven.  

          Micah teaches something very similar.  In Micah, we hear God command the Hebrew people to rise and plead their case as if they were in court.  The people have forgotten God’s saving acts through out their history- how God led the people out of slavery in Egypt, through the wilderness, and into the Promised Land.  Because the people have forgotten their story, they have gone far astray from the life God would have them lead.  We hear a frustrated God say “O my people, what have I done to you? In what have I wearied you?”  The people are confused at God’s anger, because they are keeping all of God’s laws about sacrifice and worship.  When the people wonder what else God requires of them, Micah answers “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.”

The story of God’s saving acts through out the history tells us the story of a God who loves justice, bringing the Hebrew people out of bondage in Egypt, and who does kindness and mercy sustaining the people in the wilderness and walking with them to the Promised Land.  What God requires of God’s people is to behave towards others the way God has behaved toward them-with justice and mercy, which they can do if only they will walk humbly with God.  When the people remember their own story, they will see that the way they have exploited the poor, the widow, and the stranger, and the way they have worshiped false gods, does not in any way imitate the way God has acted toward them.  God asks nothing of God’s people that God has not shown them how to do with God’s own actions. 

To do justice means to have our spirits moved by the injustice of the world and work for justice.  To love mercy means to recognize those places where the love of God needs to be shown and show that love.  To walk humbly with God means to follow God, not the devices and desires of our own hearts.  The beatitudes we hear this morning call us to do the same.  When we live as the makers of real peace, rather than just keeping the peace, when we offer the mercy of God to each other and the stranger, when we hunger and thirst for gospel righteousness, we have treated others the way God has treated us.  And the Kingdom of Heaven has drawn near. 

Amen.

Turn

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 22, 2017

3 Epiphany A

In the mountains, in the woods, where my grandparents lived, the nights were lit only by the stars.  There were no surrounding houses, no parking lots, not even any traffic to light up the night.  In the darkness of the night, we could not see our hands in front of our faces.  But our grandfather, being a great collector of gadgets, had a vast array of flashlights.  Some were tiny and had intense beams the gave off a brilliant light on a very small space.  Others were larger and managed to spread less light over more space.  Either way, the flashlights we took on our night time walks were really only good for one thing.  They lit up the path directly in front of our feet, and not much else.  While we could see where to take the next step; we could not see the creek 100 yards ahead.  The flashlights gave us exactly what we needed and nothing more.  They gave us the power to go out into the dark of the night, but not the power to conquer the dark.

          This morning we hear the prophet Isaiah say “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness, on them light has shined.”  The gospel writer quotes this very passage and understands Jesus to be the fulfillment of what the prophet Isaiah had promised.  Later in the book of Isaiah, we hear the words “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” In John’s gospel, Jesus says “I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.”  These are all passages of great hope and promise-hope and promise that the darkness of oppression, whether physical or political or spiritual-will be lifted, illuminating the darkness of night and making the whole day shine with the radiance of God’s glory.

          Since Matthew proclaims through the words of Isaiah that Jesus is the light of the world, the glory of God, I find it a little disconcerting that the next words out of Jesus’ mouth are “Repent. For the kingdom of heaven has come near.”  Repent?  What about rejoice and be glad for the kingdom of heaven has come near?  Granted, Jesus does not call us, or anyone else, a brood of vipers like John the Baptist did.  But what does it mean about the light of the world if the first word of his ministry is “repent!”

          The word “repent” means to turn, or to redirect one’s life.  In both the Hebrew scriptures and the New Testament, the call to “repent” is the call to reorient the way we live, and then act on it; to be reconciled with God, then live like it.  In the reading from 1 Corinthians, Paul does not actually use the word repent, but he is certainly calling the Christians there to turn away from their squabbling and reorient their lives so that they live in unity.  This morning, we hear Jesus issue an invitation-an invitation to change directions and be part of the kingdom of heaven as it draws near.

          When Jesus calls Simon Peter and Andrew, his brother, they have to literally change directions and follow Jesus.  They turn from their current direction, casting nets in the sea, and follow Jesus when he calls.  Likewise, when Jesus calls James and John, they have to turn from mending nets, to follow Jesus.  These four radically reorient their lives to follow Jesus, then they watch as Jesus teaches in the synagogues, proclaims the good news of the kingdom, and cures every disease and sickness among the people. 

          When the four fishermen turned from what they were doing, casting and mending nets, and followed Jesus, all they could see was Jesus.  They did not have a strategic plan, they had not thought carefully about how they would finance this new endeavor or how their families would survive without them.  On the one hand, that makes following Jesus seem downright reckless and irresponsible, and I am all for being careful and responsible.  On the other hand, their actions are a reminder that we are called to follow Jesus first, and our strategic plans, sound financial planning, or our carefully crafted plans for our families need to be part of how we follow Jesus.  When the strategic plan falls apart, or the economy goes bust, or our carefully made plans come completely unglued perhaps for a reason totally out of our control, we are stuck in the dark if those things are what we have followed.  We have nothing and no one to follow, no light to guide us, and we are powerless before the dark.

And so, Jesus says “Turn and follow me.”  Jesus calls us, not to abandon our responsibilities, but to turn from following them and follow him.  Jesus is the light that shines in the darkness so that we can see Jesus and follow him, not so that we can conquer the darkness and find our own way.  The gospel of John begins with the words “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  All things came into being through him...What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”  The promise of the gospel is that no darkness can extinguish the light of Jesus so we will never have to find our way through the darkness alone.

Amen.

God's Dream

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 15, 2017

Annual Meeting & Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

          One year ago this weekend, the weekend of your annual meeting and the country’s celebration of the life of Dr. King, Don and I made our first trip to Hudson to spend time with your search committee.  I have to admit that I was a bit surprised to realize that a whole year has passed since that weekend.  We had read your profile and I had met the search committee via a Skype interview.   We were impressed with the dedication of this parish, your love and care for each other, and the great welcoming atmosphere you foster here.  And you know the rest of the story.  Here we are, a year later on Annual Meeting Sunday, with the Bishop coming next Saturday to celebrate our ministry at Christ Church.

          There have been some delightful surprises along the way.  First, Christ Church is a larger parish with even more gifts for ministry than the profile described.  We don’t all make it to church every Sunday, which gives us a smaller feel than is accurate.  Secondly, as I have said before, our buildings are very extremely used with a variety of groups in and out on a regular basis.  Some days, the buildings practically shake with activity.  Thirdly, when there is a need, people step up and take ownership of whatever the challenge might be.  One of the reasons I came to Christ Church is because you had not waited for the arrival of a rector to be about the work of ministry here.  Your time in the wilderness has served you well in many ways.

          This weekend, our country celebrates the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and our lectionary provides specific readings from scripture for this celebration.   The reading from Genesis, in which Joseph’s brothers mock him as a dreamer, deliberately reminds us of Dr. King’s “I have a dream” speech.  Dr. King quoted the prophet Isaiah when he said “I have a dream that one day every valley will be exalted, and every hill and mountain made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord will be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.”  Dr. King’s dream was not without clear reference to his day, however.  This most quoted part of his speech follows a litany of dreams that are quite specific and spell out the meaning of the words “All men are created equal.”  His dream was that someday the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners would be able to sit down together.  That a day would come when his own four children would be judged by the strength of their character not the color of their skin.  That someday little black boys and girls would play hand in hand with little white boys and girls.  Dr. King had no fear in naming names and identifying places where injustice and oppression were considered acceptable.

           Dreams can be cheap.  Working to make those dreams a reality can be costly, as Dr. King’s life shows.  The reading from Ephesians reminds us of what is required for that work.  The whole armor of God is required for the struggle against the powers of darkness.  The description of the armor of God includes a belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, shoes that will make us ready to proclaim the gospel of peace, the shield of faith.  While all of this equipment is spiritual, the physical way the equipment is described reminds us that our whole selves are required for the work of fighting injustice.  Thinking and praying about injustice is required but is not enough.  Talking about injustice and raising awareness is required, but not enough.  Thoughtful, prayerful action is also required.

          And yet, even with all the talk about armor in the reading from Ephesians, Jesus is clear, as was Dr. King, that the work of liberation from oppression is peaceful work.  Love your enemies.  Do good to those who hate you.  Pray for those who abuse you.  If the goal is to achieve the peaceful kingdom Isaiah describes, where the lion and lamb lie down together and swords can be turned into plowshares, if the goal is for children of all colors to be able to play together, that will not be achieved through violence.  One of my favorite Dr. King quotes is this: “(The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it.Through violence you may murder the liar, but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth. Through violence you may murder the hater, but you do not murder hate. In fact, violence merely increases hate.

So it goes.) Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness:

only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”

          During the season of Advent, when we wait for the coming of Jesus, we hear God’s “I have a dream speech.”  “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.” We celebrate the work and sacrifice of Dr. King because his dream was God’s dream.  Here in Hudson, Ohio, in Summit County, where is Christ Church called to use our prayers, our conversation and our action to make God’s dream a more present reality?  Where are we called to work together to liberate people who are oppressed by the bondage of racism, or poverty, or discrimination because of one’s sexual orientation?  God’s dream through out scripture is liberation from oppression, from the physical liberation of the Hebrew people from slavery in Egypt, to the liberation from the oppression of sickness and disease in the gospels, to the liberation from sin and death through the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus.  How are we called to leverage the vast talent of this congregation, our physical resources, and our willingness to tackle a challenge in order to be part of God’s liberating work? As we celebrate our life together on the Annual Meeting Sunday, the question is not “What great things did we do last year?” The question is “What great things will we do this year to make God’s dream a more present reality?”

                                                                   Amen.

Debris

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 8, 2017

The Baptism of Jesus

          Don and I have a cottage on the Ohio River in the little village of Ripley.  The cottage is on a hill overlooking the water and the river is endlessly fascinating.  Barges of varying lengths float by, sometimes empty, sometimes carrying large loads of coal.  Sometimes the water is clear and calm, and other times, particularly after a significant rainfall or the melting of a lot of snow, the water is high and turbulent.  On those occasions, the water picks up all kinds of debris along the way to Cincinnati, sometimes carrying whole trees including the roots, mats of plant debris and human trash, as well as other unidentifiable objects.  At times like that, the river seems angry, tormented even, cold and dangerous.

          When I think of the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River, I think of a much more tranquil scene.  In my imagination, the water is clear and smooth, just the right temperature, with no sign of floating debris. Each year, the Church celebrates the Feast of the Baptism of Jesus on the Sunday after Epiphany, which was this past Friday, moving rapidly from Jesus as an 8 day old baby last Sunday to Jesus as a grown man this Sunday.  And we think our children grow up quickly! 

          When Jesus went to the Jordan to be baptized by John, the baptism John offered was for the repentance of sins.  Crowds of people were flocking to the wilderness so they could confess their sins and be baptized.  We understand that in baptism we are cleansed from sin and born again.  But why would Jesus, who we understand to be sinless, need to confess his sins and be baptized.  How would that even be possible for someone who was without sin?

          John the Baptist has the same question.  John says “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”  Jesus’ response is "Let it be so now, for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness." Jesus’ baptism is a matter of fulfilling all righteousness. On the one hand, in the Hebrew scriptures, righteousness is a characteristic of God and the word is used to describe God’s faithfulness to the covenant with God’s people. On the other hand, with regards to humans, in the Hebrew scriptures, to be righteous is to do as God commands, which is to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God. By offering himself for baptism, Jesus is committing himself to the life God calls him to lead, whatever that may entail. I imagine Jesus’ motive here is not a lot different that all the other folks in line, who are baptized because they want to live a more righteous life.

          So, Jesus goes down into the waters of baptism and comes back up, just like the thousands of other people before him. But when he comes out of the water, the heavens are opened, the Spirit of God descends on him like a dove, and a voice from heaven says "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased." Jesus may have gone into the water like everyone else, but only for Jesus do the heavens open and does the voice of God claim him as God’s own.

After a baptism so glorious, a grand celebration would be in order. Jesus has just been claimed as God’s own, God’s beloved. Surely food and drink, dancing or at least a cake should follow. But immediately after Jesus is baptized, Jesus is led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by Satan. We will hear that story a few weeks from now on the first Sunday of Lent.  Any thought we might have that being God’s beloved means the conferral of special protection and privilege comes to a grinding halt. Jesus will spend the next 40 days and 40 nights without food or shelter and alone in the wilderness with the devil.

Our reading from Isaiah this morning is often referred to as the First Servant Song.  Isaiah describes a servant who will bring justice to the nations, not by force or violence, but by faith.  Hebrew scholars disagree as to whether this passage refers to a person, who Christians often understand to be Jesus, or Israel as God’s chosen people.  But certainly by pairing this servant song with the baptism of Jesus, the creators of the lectionary want us to think of Jesus when we hear the words of Isaiah this morning.  The work described in this passage from Isaiah-the work of bringing about justice, of opening eyes that are blind, of freeing people from the variety of prisons in which they find themselves-is the work Jesus will do when he emerges from the wilderness.  This work is the work of righteousness-to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God. 

Back to those choppy waters on the Ohio River. While the Holy Spirit does not drive most of us out into the literal wilderness after our baptism, baptism does send us out into the world to do the work God gives us to do.  Jesus’ baptism reminds us that we, too, we have been claimed by God in our own baptisms and that God will never abandon us.  But just as Jesus’ baptism was not a promise of health, happiness, popularity or success, neither is ours.  Jesus’ baptism also reminds us that we, too, are sent us out into the world to be a light to the nations, in the words of Isaiah, and engage the wilderness of poverty, disease, and injustice as God’s own beloved children.  And when that work is hard, and looks and feels less like the calm, clean water of baptism and more like the choppy, cold waters of the Ohio River, dangerous and full of debris, the story of Jesus’ baptism reminds us that we, too, have been claimed by God as God’s own and God will always be faithful.      

     

                                 Amen.

Holy Name

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 1, 2017

Holy Name

          In my office, I have a photograph that I call the “Three Charlottes.”  The elderly woman in the photo is my great-grandmother, whose given name was Charlotte but who was called “Lottie.”  She died at the age of 91 when I was in 7^th grade, so I had the good fortune of knowing her for a large portion of my youth.  She was a dignified but stern looking woman, born in 1881, whose favorite activity in her golden years was to go shopping one day and return everything the next.  The woman in the middle of the photo is Lottie’s granddaughter, Charlotte.  Charlotte is my first cousin once removed and my godmother.  We saw her this past Thanksgiving, told family stories, looked at old photos, and had a lovely time remembering family weddings and other events.  Even though we rarely see each other-the last time was 2008-we have a shared family story that binds us together despite the passage of time.  The third Charlotte in the photo is myself.  I am about two years old in the picture and I obviously just want the photography session to end.   I was oblivious to the fact that 5 decades later I would treasure this photo that ties me to a story beyond myself. 

          Today is the Feast of Holy Name.  Holy Name is always January 1, 8 days after Christmas because, as we are told in the gospel reading, 8 days after Jesus’ birth, he was named Jesus as the angel had instructed.  Holy Name, however, does not always fall on a Sunday, which is why many of us have never heard of this particular feast day.

          In a way similar to the way my name connects me with a story that precedes me by at least two generations, we are reminded this morning that Jesus’ name connects him to the larger story of God’s work in the world.  The shepherds have left Mary and Joseph and returned home.  Eight days later, we are told, “it was time to circumcise the child; and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.” We are reminded that the angel appeared to Mary to tell her of the child that would be conceived in her womb.  The angel said ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.’

          The name Jesus is the Hebrew name Joshua, which means “Yahweh is salvation.”  “Yahweh” is the Hebrew name for God, so Jesus’ name itself connects Jesus with the larger story of God’s people.  The angel also connects Jesus with the larger story when Mary is told that Jesus will receive the throne of his ancestor David. David was the great king of Israel, when Israel was a united monarchy and a military power.  David’s son Solomon managed to keep the monarchy united for another generation, but when Solomon died, the kingdom divided into two kingdoms: Israel in the north and Judah in the south.  The power and prestige of both declined rapidly as they became subject to foreign powers and occupation.  Kings put their trust in alliances with foreign powers and their gods rather than trust the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob for their safety and security.  Those alliances might have brought temporary security, but eventually both Israel and Judah fell to foreign powers.    Even though Judah would eventually  be rebuilt, the country was a shadow of its former self. 

Hundreds of years later, there was a great longing for the glory days of David when Israel was independent and powerful.  But they also longed for the relationship with God they had once known, when they knew who they were as God’s chosen people, and the people of the promised land.  The people longed for the messiah described in the words of the Christmas Eve reading from Isaiah “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom.  He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore.”

          Jesus’ very name connects him with that story and the longing for a deeper relationship with God.  Yahweh is salvation.  The story of God’s people is the story of our constant need to be reminded that Yahweh is salvation, not any earthly power, possession, or accomplishment.  Over and over again, we learn from Scripture and from our own lives, that when we put our trust in anything other than Yahweh, we are disappointed.  Today, on the Feast of Holy Name, we are reminded that the power of God, in which we put our trust, is different from the world’s power.  Today, the power of God is on display in an 8 day old baby, whose very name connects us to a story that spans the generations and reminds us that God, and God alone, is salvation.

                                                                   Amen.