Waiting

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

May 28, 2017

7 Easter A

         

          When I was a young, newly minted priest, many years ago, I served at St. James Episcopal Church in Piqua, Ohio.   One of our traditions there was to have the children draw a picture each Sunday based on what they heard in the sermon.  The children had to listen to at least some part of the sermon in order to get an idea, and I had to preach in a way that gave the children an idea for a drawing. The children would give me their drawings after church then several of us would choose one for the cover of the following week’s bulletin.  Of course, that meant that the cover was always a week behind, but no one cared.  Some weeks, the pictures the children drew were very insightful.  Other weeks, I could not image what I might have said that prompted the drawing of a tyrannosaurus rex. 

          One Sunday, having heard the story of Jesus’ Ascension, we got a lovely picture of Jesus going up into heaven.  The stick figure disciples looked sad as Jesus left them.  Clouds surrounded Jesus’ head as he went up, so Jesus had obviously left planet earth.  The child had clearly put some thought into how this could happen because, attached to the bottoms of Jesus’ feet, propelling Jesus into heaven, were rocket boosters.

          The two most often asked questions about the Ascension of Jesus are where did he go and how did he get there.  Today is the Sunday between the Ascension of Jesus and Pentecost, and while the questions about where Jesus went and how he got there are interesting theological questions to ponder, I think another question comes out of this story from Acts which is perhaps more pertinent to our everyday lives.

          Before Jesus ascends into heaven, the very last thing he says to his remaining 11 disciples is this: “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”  Then, two men in white robes appeared with the disciples, just as two men in dazzling apparel had appeared at the tomb on Easter morning.  The men say to the disciples, in essence “Why are you just standing here?  Jesus will come back just the way he left.”  Then the disciples return to Jerusalem to wait for whatever is going to happen when the Holy Spirit comes upon them.

          What this story can teach us is how to wait.  Waiting is a common human experience.  We wait for all kinds of things.  We wait for a long-anticipated event, like a graduation, or a vacation, or a new baby, or a new job to begin.  We wait for the more anxiety provoking events in life, like a test, or a diagnosis, or the resolution of an unpleasant situation.  On this Memorial Day weekend, we remember those who waited for news of their loved ones who were at war.  The disciples waited the 10 days from Ascension to Pentecost with no idea what they were waiting for.  They had no clue what Jesus meant or what would happen when the Holy Spirit came upon them.  So, what do the disciples teach us about how to wait?

First, we learn from the disciples that waiting is best done together.  The disciples and Jesus’ family don’t just go back to their homes after Jesus ascends into heaven, to get on with their lives and see what happens from there.  Faithful waiting is hard work, especially when we don’t know exactly what we are waiting for.  Whether we wait with excitement or with apprehension, Scripture reminds us to wait together, in community-to be there for one another as we wait for whatever the future holds.

Secondly, those who waited devoted themselves to prayer.  I wonder what they prayed for, or what they prayed about.  How, exactly, do the disciples pray after being told that they will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon them, and after watching Jesus ascend into heaven?  Do they pray for the wisdom and guidance to meet whatever challenges the future holds?  Do they offer prayers of thanksgiving for the blessings of the days that they had with Jesus after the resurrection?  As much as I might like to know the answers to those questions, Scripture is silent on the content of the prayers.  Perhaps Scripture is silent because the content of the prayers does not matter.  What matters is that, as the disciples waited, they intentionally put themselves in the presence of God.  Faithful waiting involves both staying in relationship with each other and staying in relationship with God. 

Thirdly, waiting is about anticipation.  In one sense, that is the very definition of waiting.  We are waiting for something that has not happened yet.  But, faithful waiting is the anticipation of what God is about to do. The disciples probably did not have a clue what Jesus meant when he told them to wait for the Holy Spirit to come upon them.  But they knew that God was going to do something.  Faithful waiting is not just about waiting to see what we can make happen, or about waiting to see what will happen to us. Faithful waiting is also waiting to see what God will do in our midst.  Sometimes we need a little help seeing what God is doing in our midst, which is why staying in relationship with each other and staying in relationship with God is so very important.

The disciples believed that God would act in their lives, and they waited together and they waited prayerfully.  We, too, are called to do our waiting together, and to wait prayerfully, to see how God will act in our own lives.  The disciples’ waiting came to an end at Pentecost when they were filled with the Holy Spirit and sent out into the world to be Jesus’ witnesses.  Our waiting may take longer or be shorter, have a dramatic conclusion or a quiet one.  But Jesus’ promise to the disciples and Jesus’ promise to us is that God does act in our lives, and that God’s action is always worth the faithful wait.

Amen.

Tools

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

May 21, 2017

6 Easter A

When I was a little girl, my sister and a friend and I had a clubhouse in a closet under the stairs at my grandparents’ house.  The three of us were the only ones allowed in the clubhouse other than the dog, an elderly boxer who made a pretty good mascot.  On the one hand, the point of the club was to be helpful to our grandmother.  We cleaned and rearranged her kitchen so many times that she never knew where anything was, which didn’t matter since she had very little use for a kitchen any way.  On the other hand, the point of the club was to exclude our brother and the boy next door.  This club was strictly for girls regardless of any good works the boys could think up to help our grandmother.  We had great fun in our clubhouse and enjoyed our own company immensely.  As we grew older, we wearied of the cramped quarters, each other, and the novelty of rearranging the kitchen began to wear off.  Plus, the boys did not seem the least bit perturbed that they were excluded, and in fact, they were outside doing far more exciting things than sitting in a closet feeling superior.  So, eventually our little club disbanded and, much to our grandmother’s relief, we left her kitchen alone and went outside to play.

This morning we hear Jesus speak to the 11 remaining disciples in the context of his last supper with them, and Jesus’ words can easily sound like a tight knit insular club is being formed.  Jesus tells the disciples that if they love him, they will keep his commandments, and he will give them the Spirit of Truth which the world cannot receive.  Then he tells them that when the Spirit of Truth arrives, they will know that Jesus is in his Father, the disciples are in Jesus, and Jesus is in them.  That sounds about as close knit and as exclusive as three little girls in club house closet under the stairs with their very own mascot!

What is this commandment that Jesus keeps referring to?  Just a few verses earlier in John’s gospel, Jesus has said “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.”  Then, a few verses later, Jesus repeats his commandment and says “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”  The disciples are to love each other, but not just for their mutual comfort and support. They are to love each other so that the world will know the love of God.  And, in another few chapters, on Easter night when the disciples do receive the gift of the Spirit, Jesus will say to them “As the Father sent me, so I send you.” 

Being sent is all well and good, but what are the disciples to do as ones who are sent?  What are we to do as ones who are sent?  The apostle Paul gives us an example of how to be one who is sent when he stands before the Areopagus this morning.  Paul is brilliant in this passage from Acts.  First, rather than condemn the Athenians for their multitude of Gods, Paul commends them for being so religious in every way.  Paul recognizes their devotion to something beyond themselves.  Secondly, Paul meets the Athenians where they are.  The Athenians are so religious, that they have an altar to an unknown god, just in case they have left out a god in the desire to worship all gods. Paul picks up on that and tells them that the god they already worship as unknown is actually the creator of all things.  Thirdly, Paul tells them the story from creation through Jesus in a way that they can understand to show them that they, too, are the offspring of the Creator of all things.  If we read just a few more verses, we hear that some people scoffed at what Paul had to say, others wanted to hear more, and some became believers. That’s not exactly a 100% success rate, but Jesus is clear in the gospels that not everyone will hear and believe.

As followers of Jesus, we, too, are sent ones. We might not be sent quite as far afield as Paul was, but the Holy Spirit does send us from this beautiful space where we do love each other, out into the world to share that love.  How are we to share that love?  In the reading from Acts, Paul gives us three tools that we can use to show the world the love of God. The first tool is engagement.  Paul engaged the people of Athens in conversation.  Actually, the verses prior to our reading this morning tell us that Paul argued with the devout Jews in the synagogues, and debated the Epicurean and Stoic philosophers.  Perhaps arguing and debating are most aggressive than many of us would care to be, but the point is that he engaged them in conversation and heard what they had to say. 

The second tool is connection.  Paul connected with the Athenians by recognizing the altar to an unknown God.  Rather than dismiss the Athenian religion, he used that altar to make a point of connection with his own faith.  Thirdly, Paul was able to tell the story from creation to Jesus in a way the people could understand.  In order to do that, he had to know the story.  Tool number three is knowledge: knowing the story of our faith so that we can share it with others. 

Far from setting up an exclusive club whose members love each other and do some good works as my sister, our friend, and I did from our clubhouse under the stairs, Jesus calls us to love each other with a love that propels us out into the world.  Jesus sends us out with the tools Paul used this morning: engagement, connection, and knowledge.  And when we protest that we are not Paul and we do not have Paul’s skills or his knowledge, Jesus reminds us that we are not sent alone.  We have been given each other and the Advocate, the Spirit of Truth, to guide us.

                                                                   Amen.       

Following Jesus

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

May 14, 2017

5 Easter A

          In our youth confirmation class this spring, we looked at a variety of difficult scripture passages.  We looked at a passage from Isaiah that challenges the mistaken idea that, in the Hebrew Scriptures, God is angry and all about punishment.  We looked at the passage from Acts in which Ananias and Sapphira kept back some of the proceeds from the sale of their property and were struck dead.  We asked questions of Scripture, using the image Episcopal priest and well known preacher Barbara Brown Taylor describes as “looking for the splinter” in the passage, and we learned to use some of the same skills we use to look at other pieces of literature to address those splinters.

          Had I been thinking ahead, the class would have worked on the passage from John that we heard this morning. Then they could have written this sermon!  Today’s gospel lesson has several splinters.   Our youth would have wondered what Jesus meant when he says “No one comes to the Father except through me.”  Does that mean that our friends and loved ones of other faiths, or no faith, are destined for hell?  And what about Jesus claim that “If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”  I guarantee you that our youth would not take that promise lightly.

          As with most passages of Scripture, knowing the context of the passage is helpful.  In the passage just before our gospel reading, Jesus has washed the disciples’ feet, and told the disciples that they should do likewise for each other, serving each other as Jesus has served them.  Having one’s feet washed is a humbling experience in which one person becomes vulnerable to another.  Jesus is describing how the disciples are to be in community with each other.  Then, Jesus tells the disciples that one of them will betray him.  Next, Jesus tells the disciples that he is with them only a little longer, and where he is going, the disciples cannot come.  Then Jesus tells Peter that before day break, he will have denied Jesus three times.

          So, this morning, the scene with the disciples and Jesus is quite somber.  The disciples were likely sad, confused, and feeling rather hopeless.  Jesus is encouraging the remaining 11 disciples when he says  “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”  Jesus promises his followers that he is going to prepare a place for them, and will come back and get them.  Jesus is not abandoning them.  In fact, Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life so that they know the path to the Father.

          Taken out of context, this passage makes it sound like only those who follow Jesus have access to God.  However, a few chapters earlier in John’s gospel, Jesus said “I am the good shepherd.  I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father.  And I lay down my life for the sheep.  I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.  I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice.  So there will be one flock, one shepherd.”  Jesus will bring his other sheep into the fold.  Meanwhile, Jesus’ disciples are called to witness to the world through their love for each other, so there is healthy, loving fold waiting for the other sheep.  What this passage, and much of John’s gospel insists, is that Jesus’ followers love each other with the same love Jesus has for them.  That love will spill out into love for others so that the world experiences God’s love. 

          At the end of the passage, Jesus tells the disciples that they will do even greater works than he has, and that if they ask for anything in his name, he will do it.  This is after Jesus has changed water into wine, fed thousands of people with a bit of bread and fish, raised Lazarus from the dead, walked on water, and healed many people of their infirmities.  Really?  Jesus thinks we can do that?

          If we read further, Jesus will tell the disciples that he will not leave them orphaned.  He will send the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, to be with them forever.  While having the Holy Spirit available to do whatever we like would be lovely some days, Jesus is not promising us that.  This is not God as Santa Claus.  But Jesus is promising us that the Holy Spirit will give us what we need so that we are able to show God’s love to the world at all times and in all circumstances.  Jesus is giving his sad, confused, discouraged disciples their mission.  They will have the ability to carry on his work in the world, demonstrating the power of God’s love to even more people than Jesus did.

          At the end of the day, this gospel is neither about who is in and who is out, nor about a promise that we, too, can raise the dead to life.  The reading from 1 Peter says “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.”   Jesus is telling us how we are to be that chosen race and royal priesthood and proclaim God’s mighty acts.  We are to proclaim the mighty acts of God by word and example, demonstrating the love of God at all times and in all places, like Jesus did.  We are to follow Jesus by making ourselves present to the Holy Spirit so we can make God’s love known in whatever situation we find ourselves.   When Bishop Williams lays hands on those being confirmed or received today, he will not be conferring special power, righteous judgement, or exceptional privilege upon those who kneel before him.  He will be confirming their commitment to following Jesus, which is about humility, servant hood, and reflecting God’s love.  In other words, following Jesus is about following Jesus.

                                                                             Amen.

Handful

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

May 7, 2017

4 Easter A

          When I was on sabbatical several years ago and traveling by myself, I needed something to read at night to keep me company.  A friend, whose reading recommendations I trust, had posted on Facebook that she had just read the novel "The Invention of Wings" by Sue Monk Kidd.  I have read and enjoyed the author’s other novels so I downloaded the book onto my Kindle for what I thought would be some light bedtime reading.  With a name like "The Invention of Wings," I figured the story line must be about butterflies, or aviation, or birds, or something similar that would make for gentle reading.  I was so wrong.  "The Invention of Wings" is the brilliantly written yet awful story of Sarah Grimke, the abolitionist daughter of a slave holding family in South Carolina, and a girl named "Handful," the slave Sarah was given as a gift for her 11th birthday.  The chapters of the book go back and forth between chronicling the life of Sarah and that of "Handful."  The first agonizing and sickening description of the torture endured by slaves at the hands of their owners comes just pages into the book.  I could only read a chapter or two at a time before I had to put the book down, able to stomach no more, and reading before bed was out of the question if I wanted to sleep.  Sorrow and pain are woven with hope and courage throughout the story, which is told masterfully, but the read was difficult.

I cannot help but think about Sarah and Handful when I read the passage from I Peter that we heard this morning.  On this Good Shepherd Sunday, we hear the wonderful description of the early church from the book of Acts.  We say the beloved 23rd psalm.  The gospel reading tells us of Jesus the Good Shepherd.  And we hear a reading from I Peter that tells us that it is a credit to endure pain while suffering unjustly.  The intent of this passage was to tell first century Christian slaves that it is a credit to them when their non-Christian masters beat them unjustly.  Is the writer of I Peter condoning the kind of cruelty inflicted on Handful and her mother by Sarah's parents?  How many people have endured violence because Scripture says that it is a credit to them if they endure pain while suffering unjustly?  What are we to do with this reading from Scripture?

Fortunately, the other three readings this morning give us a context for hearing the passage from I Peter.  These readings make it clear that God's will for humankind in no way includes being victims or perpetrators of violence. In the reading from Acts, we hear about a community of Christians who held all things in common so that no one would be in need. In the 23rd Psalm, the psalmist describes God as the shepherd who walks with God's people even in the valley of the shadow of death.  In the psalm, the shepherd protects the sheep, guides the sheep, and comforts the sheep.  Lastly, the gospel lesson contrasts the thief who comes only to steal and destroy, acts of violence, with the Shepherd who comes to give life, and give it abundantly.  The Shepherd calls the sheep by name, and the sheep follow him.  The sheep will run from a stranger because they do not know the voice of strangers.  Again, the Shepherd protects the sheep and gives them life.  Jesus is that Shepherd, and Jesus leads the sheep into abundant life, not into deliberate suffering.

          Not only do these three passages oppose violence and injustice, but the overwhelming evidence of Scripture is that these actions and the suffering they create are abhorrent to God.  The God who led the Hebrew people out of slavery in Egypt is not likely to condone slavery for another group of people.  The prophet Micah called upon God's people to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God.  Isaiah implored the people to maintain justice and do what is right.  Amos said "let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever flowing stream."  Jesus preached in the beatitudes that "those who hunger and thirst for righteousness shall be filled" and drew on the words of Isaiah to launch his ministry saying that he has been anointed to proclaim release to the captives and to let the oppressed go free.  The clear call of Scripture is to engage in the work of ending injustice and violence in the world. Any use of I Peter to justify violence or to expect anyone to endure unjust suffering to gain God's approval or build character is simply wrong.  Having said that, however, is there anything constructive we can take from I Peter?

The reading from Acts describes an idealistic Christian community.  The psalm describes the Shepherd as the one who will spread a table before us in the presence of our enemies, and the gospel describes Jesus as the shepherd who has come that we may have life and have it abundantly.  However, the sad fact is that Christian slaves in the first century and American slaves in the 18th and 19th centuries, did not have tables being spread before them in the presence of their cruel masters.  No one was sharing all that they had with them, and if they were going to have life and have it abundantly, it would most likely be in the next life, not this one.  The sad fact is that people today suffer unjustly for a variety of reasons, whether the unjust distribution of food and other goods of society, or because of unjust employers, or because of violent family members, or because of human trafficking, or in other parts of the world, because of ethnic cleansing, genocide, the kidnapping of young girls, and not hunger but starvation.  The list goes on and on.

Given the overwhelming evidence in Scripture that God opposes injustice and suffering and calls us to work for justice and righteousness, and given that we know that injustice and suffering occurs in every age, in it's own odd way, I Peter provides hope for people in unjust situations that seem utterly hopeless.  Whatever the cause of undeserved suffering, I Peter reminds the reader that unjust suffering connects the sufferer with Christ's suffering which makes that suffering holy.  Not good, or desirable, or painless, or beneficial, and certainly not pleasing to God, but holy. To those who suffer unjustly, I Peter proclaims the Good News that nothing, no matter how unjust, has the power to separate a person from the love of God.   For the rest of us, the mandate of scripture is clear.   We are to reflect the love of God by making this world a place of abundant life for all people.

                                                                                                                  Amen.

Catherine of Siena

Charlotte Collins Reed

Trinity Cathedral

April 26, 2017

Catherine of Siena

          When Catherine of Siena, the 14^th century mystic, philosopher, theologian, and political mover and shaker, was 5 years old, she had her first vision of Christ.  When I was five years old, I was engaged in deep philosophical thought about whether it would be worse to sit on the school bus by myself or have to sit next to a boy. 

          When Catherine was 16, she cut off her long hair in response to her parents who wanted her to improve her appearance so she could attract a husband.  When I was 16, I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to convince my straight blond hair that it was really curly locks. 

          When Catherine was a teenager, her adolescent rebellions was to see her father as Christ, her mother as Mary, and her brothers as the apostles.  She saw serving them as her opportunity for spiritual growth.  That is not how my adolescent rebellion went down!

          At the age of 21, Catherine married.  Finally!  Something in her life that I can relate to!  I married at 22.  Oops.  Hers was a mystical marriage to Jesus and mine was to my husband Don. 

          Perhaps you can tell that I sometimes have trouble relating to the lives of the saints.   Sometimes their lives were so pious, so pure, so faithful, so heroic, that I find it hard to locate a point of connection and I wind up just sort of annoyed.  But here is the real point of connection.  Catherine’s relationship with Christ might have been extraordinary in ways we have a hard time imagining.  We may not have had the sorts of mystical experiences Catherine had or be called to the life to which she was called.  But there are as many ways to experience Christ as there are people to experience him.  We might experience Christ in nature, in friends, in worship, through music, poetry, visual art, silence, prayer…the list goes on and on.  

           What Catherine’s life teaches us, all of us, is that our experience of Christ is both real and not an end in itself.  Catherine was told by Christ to take her life out into the world, where she served the poor and the sick, and brokered political deals in Florence, and through out Italy.  She wrote letters advocating for peace between Florence and Rome, and worked for the return of the papacy from Avignon to Rome.  She had no problem with speaking the truth to power, which, in the 14^th century, was just not something women did.  Catherine’s life of faith was a life rooted in her experience of Christ which drove her to civic engagement.

          In the gospel reading, we hear Jesus say to his disciples “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear.”  Catherine models that for us.  She did not worry about what she would eat, or wear, or look like, or what people would think about her.  When I wonder what I could possibly say to the powers and principalities, what truth I would speak, I am reminded of what Jesus said to his disciples in all three synoptic gospels when they were worried about what to say when brought before councils and synagogues.  He promised them that the Holy Spirit would teach them what to say at that time.  While it is not the gospel reading for Catherine, I imagine she did not worry about what she would say for that very reason.  All she worried about was striving for the Kingdom of God, where there is no sickness or poverty, and no disunity or strife in church or state.  She reminds us that our relationship with Christ sends us out into the world to make a difference in the world.  She reminds us of the power each of us has, the power of one, when we are rooted in Christ.  Catherine of Siena was the 14^th century mystic version of Love God, Love your neighbor, change the world.

                                                                                      Amen.

Information about Catherine of Siena from:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catherine_of_Siena

http://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=9

http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/03447a.htm

http://www.ncregister.com/blog/jimmy-akin/8-things-to-know-and-share-about-st.-catherine-of-siena

         

Together

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

April 30, 2017

                                                      Easter 3-A

My mom was from the sleepy town of Headland, Alabama.  To get there, you go south through Birmingham, south and slightly east through Montgomery, southeast towards Dothan, and just before you fall off the face of the earth, you turn left, and there's Headland, a small lumber town where nothing ever happens.  Now the sins of the south are many, and having been born there and spent a good deal of my youth and young adulthood there, I can name a lot of them.  But the one thing they really know how to do in Headland, Alabama is party.  When times were good, when someone got a raise, had a baby, bought a house, or got good news, my grandmother and her friends gathered for a party.  When times were hard, when the job was lost, the news was bad, or the roof blew off the house, my grandmother and her friends gathered for a party.  When things were just going along day to day, nothing exciting, nothing particularly good or bad happening, they gathered for a party.  Mr. Ben and Miss Minnie Lee, Mr. Jack and Miss Fannie Mae, and all the people who gathered at my grandmother's house Friday night after Friday night knew that the way to celebrate, the way to mourn, the way to live day to day was to gather folks together, tell stories and share a meal and the appropriate laughter or tears.  And while none of my grandmother's friends were church goers, and the spirits they consulted was more of the distilled variety, they did much to form my theology and my understanding of church as they gathered week after week to share a meal, tell stories, laugh and cry and support each other.

This morning's gospel lesson certainly doesn't start out to be much of a party.  Cleopas and another disciple were returning home to Emmaus on Easter night, tired, sad, discouraged and confused.  Emmaus was another sleepy little town, about 7 miles from Jerusalem, a town where nothing that we know of in Jesus' ministry had ever happened.  We don't know who Cleopas is; he is mentioned nowhere else in the gospel.  The other disciple isn't named at all.  Two unknown disciples are trudging home after what may well have been the worst weekend of their lives, having seen the one they had believed to be the redeemer of Israel condemned to death and crucified.  Two disciples going home to get over their disappointment and get on with their lives. 

And amazingly Jesus chooses to appear to those two weary, grief-stricken disciples.  The two disciples don't even recognize Jesus when he appears to them, walks with them, and interprets to them all the things the scriptures say about him, even though later they remember that their hearts had burned within them.  Only when the risen Jesus is at the table with them, takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them, do the two disciples recognize him.  And then Jesus vanishes from their sight!

This is not just a story about Jesus being revealed to Cleopas and the other disciple in the breaking of the bread on Easter night.  This is a story about how the resurrected Jesus continues to appear, sometimes to the least likely people in the least likely places, sometimes in the worst of circumstances, and makes himself known through the breaking of bread.  Just like my grandmother's friends in Headland, Alabama, we gather here, at this table when times are good, when we have much to celebrate, when there is a baptism as there is today, a wedding, a ministry to celebrate, a building to dedicate.  We gather here at this table when times are bad, when we have lost a loved one or received difficult news, when life is in turmoil and everything seems to have been turned upside down and inside out.  And we gather here, Sunday after Sunday, when things are neither particularly good nor particularly bad.  We gather here to tell the story, share this meal, laugh and cry together and support each other.  And we do it because in the telling of the story, the breaking of the bread, and the company of fellow travelers, we meet the resurrected Jesus.  And it is Easter.

This morning, we have the great joy and privilege of baptizing Erin, Joe, and Kellan Palmer.  Every time we baptize, we all reaffirm our baptismal covenant.  We reaffirm our faith with the words of the Apostles’ Creed, then we are asked how we are going to live out that faith. The first question has a clear connection to Jesus’ appearance on the road to Emmaus: “Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, the breaking of bread and the prayers.”  Teaching, fellowship, and breaking of bread is exactly what happened on that dusty road.  The second question is about maintaining that community-“Will you resist evil and whenever you sin, repent and return to the Lord?”  But the other three questions, about seeking and serving Christ in all people, respecting the dignity of every human being, and proclaiming by word and example, are also directly connected to this story.  Not only are we called to gather at this table, to know Jesus in the breaking of the bread, but we are also called to walk on the dusty road with others, meeting people where they are, shining light in the midst of darkness, proclaiming good news when life looks grim, and making the presence of Christ known in the midst of emptiness.  We practice recognizing Christ in the breaking of the bread in this sacred place, so that we can help others recognize Christ in their midst where ever they may be. 

The promise of the gospel is that Jesus will walk with us as he walked with Cleopas and the other disciple.  The challenge of the gospel is that we learn to recognize Jesus as he walks with us which is not always easy. Sometimes we will fail to recognize Jesus, or recognize him only in hindsight, but that does not change the fact that Jesus is with us.  The work of the gospel is to walk with others as Jesus walked so that no one walks alone.

                                                          Amen.

The Main Character

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

April 23, 2017

2 Easter A

          Last Sunday, Easter Day, when I arrived in the pulpit for the first time, I discovered that the Easter Bunny had paid a visit to the pulpit and had left Easter eggs for me.  There is nothing quite like preaching knowing that there are chocolate filled eggs within reach, but off limits.  Beautiful music with a great brass quartet, gorgeous flowers, alleluias literally flying through the air, a full church AND a pulpit full of chocolate.  What more could a priest possibly want on Easter Sunday.

          This week, however, life is back to pretty much back normal.  The whole Easter season is festive, with silver vessels and white hangings, extra alleluias, and Easter hymns.  But the over-the-top flowers and brass are gone, there are no flying alleluias, and there is no chocolate in the pulpit.  We are in the life after Easter mode, which always involves a bit of let-down as we move from events of Holy Week and Easter back into the rhythms of everyday life.

          For the disciples, however, life did anything but get back to normal after that first Easter.  In the gospel reading both last Sunday and this morning, the risen Christ appears to the disciples, sending them out into the world.  Both last Sunday and this Sunday the book of Acts tells us of  bold preaching by Peter, the same Peter who had denied Jesus three times before the crucifixion.  The result of Peter’s preaching was that thousands of people were baptized.  That first Easter had completely changed life for the disciples. 

          On the other hand, on this Sunday after Easter, we might feel a bit more like Thomas.  Thomas missed out when Jesus appeared to the disciples, who were hiding behind locked doors.  We are not told where Thomas was, but I wonder if he was off somewhere trying to get his life back to normal after the events of the last few days.  Who would have thought Jesus would show up?  Sometimes we, too, are filled with doubt and would appreciate a direct experience that dramatically and unequivocally brings us to faith.

          This story always bothers me because Thomas sounds a bit like a demanding child, wanting what the others have. “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”  Jesus comes off as an indulgent parent, giving Thomas what he wants, when Jesus shows back up and offers Thomas the opportunity to touch his wounds. And we are left feeling about ½ inch tall, remembering all the times we have doubted and questioned our faith.  Don't be like Thomas seems to be the message, except that Thomas does get what he wants.  So then, what is the message?  Are we to be like Thomas or not?

            If we let Thomas be the main character in this story, we get this mixed message about what is required for belief in the risen Christ.  But what happens when we let the Risen Christ be the main character in the story?  Then we hear the story differently.  We hear Jesus say "As the Father has sent me, so I send you...Receive the Holy Spirit."  How did the Father send Jesus?  God sent Jesus to be in the world, to be the Word made flesh and dwell among us.  Jesus is sending the disciples out into the world to be the Word made flesh and dwell with the people.  The only problem is that a week later when Jesus shows back up, where are the disciples?  In the same room behind the same closed doors.  In my imagination, Jesus says to the disciples "What are you doing here?"  No wonder Thomas did not believe them!  The Risen Christ does not seem to have made one bit of difference in their lives. I wonder if Thomas might have believed the disciple had they been out in the world, doing the kind of preaching Peter was doing, showing the world the difference Jesus had made in their lives.  Perhaps Thomas would not have needed or demanded his own private viewing of Jesus' wounds.  When the Risen Christ is the main character, we hear the story differently. 

            On that first Easter, the Risen Christ became the main character in the disciples’ lives, leading them to bold action.  There was no getting back to normal after Easter.  In the reading from 1 Peter we hear “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”  Easter has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.  Life will never be the same again.  Easter called the disciples and Easter calls us, to make and keep the Risen Christ as the main character in our own lives.  When the Risen Christ is the main character, we can be sent with the boldness of Peter and the disciples, despite whatever doubts we may have.  When the Risen Christ is the main character, we can seek and serve Christ in all people.  When the Risen Christ is the main character, life after Easter is as new and exciting as Easter Day itself.

                                                                                                            Amen.