Cookies

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

March 10, 2019

1 Lent C

          Kairos is an ecumenical prison ministry designed to bring the love and forgiveness of Jesus to incarcerated men and women.  A Kairos team made up of carefully trained people from a variety of churches goes into a prison to lead a three and a half day retreat that creates Christian community through worship, prayer, and small group discussions.  The goal, put simply, is to help the men and women in prison begin to see themselves as beloved children of God.

          One of the ways the Kairos team communicates the love of God to the men or women, depending on the prison, is through homemade cookies.  Each person on the Kairos team is responsible for providing 100 dozen cookies.  If a team is 15 people, that’s about 18,000 homemade cookies going into a prison over three days.  An abundance of cookies is used in the prisons to convey the abundant love of God.  Cookies are available for the participants all day.  They are given bags of cookies to give to people they need to ask forgiveness from or people they need to forgive.  Cookies are given to the staff.  Cookies are used to permeate the prison with God’s love.

          I have never been on a Kairos team myself, but parishioners in parishes I have served have been on such teams.  Many times, I have stood before a congregation and said “In two weeks, Noel is going into the prison in Lima or London or Chillicothe, and we need 100 dozen cookies by next Saturday.”  And, without fail, everyone knew that for our church to reach such an audacious goal, everyone had to help.  No one could think someone else would make cookies, or their cookies would not matter, or that they didn’t have time to make cookies. 

          This morning, and on the First Sunday of Lent every year, we hear the story of the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness.  What, you might reasonably wonder, could Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness have to do with 18,000 cookies, especially when we are told that Jesus had nothing to eat whatsoever during his time in the wilderness?

          Jesus goes into the wilderness, filled with the Holy Spirit, having just been baptized in the Jordan River where he heard the voice of God say “You are my Son, the Beloved.  With you I am well pleased.”  I believe that Jesus goes into the wilderness to understand his identity as the beloved Son of God.  Jesus is tempted with special power, when the devil says to him “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.”  The famished Jesus replies with a verse from Deuteronomy “One does not live by bread alone.”  We know that Jesus has the ability to turn a small bit of bread and fish into food for a crowd.  We know that Jesus has the ability to heal people of all sorts of illnesses and ailments.  But Jesus will not use that power to satisfy his own hunger.  He will use that power to benefit others.

          Then Jesus is tempted with special privilege.  The devil offers Jesus glory and authority over the world.  Jesus declines with more words from Deuteronomy “Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.”  Jesus does have power and authority, but Jesus’ power and authority will save the world, not himself. 

          Lastly, the devil tempts Jesus with special protection.  “Throw yourself down from here and call on the angels to protect you.”  Again, Jesus declines with words from Deuteronomy “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”  Jesus will not claim special protection even from the cross.  In Luke’s gospel, Jesus will say from the cross “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they do.” 

          Jesus enters the wilderness to understand his identity as the beloved Son of God and what that identity means is not that he has special power, privilege or protection.  What that identity means is that he is to be the love of God for the world so that the world will know what it means to be beloved children of God.  We go into the wilderness of Lent, where we, too, discover what is meant by our identity as beloved children of God, and we find out that our identity does not give us special power, privilege or protection either.  We go into the wilderness to turn away from that which keeps us from understanding ourselves as beloved children of God.  We go into the wilderness to better understand how we are called to be God’s abundant love for the world. 

          We talk a lot about what we do as individuals for Lent-what we give up or take on.  But we also go into the wilderness together as a parish, where we are tempted as Jesus was.  What temptations keep us from understanding that being beloved children of God means being God’s abundant love for the world?

          I believe the first temptation is this: “My little contribution won’t make a difference.”  Whether we are talking about singing in the choir, making a meal for an outreach ministry, bringing food for the food pantry, or making a financial pledge, the minute we think that what we have to offer does not matter, the powers of evil have won because if we all think that way, nothing ever gets done.

          The second temptation is this: “Someone else will do it.”   When a request goes out for cookies, or Sunday School teachers, or people to work at a Habitat work day, or help with a community ministry like First Serve, the temptation is to think that someone else will do that.  Our ability to show the world God’s love is diminished every time someone thinks “someone else will do that” because if we all think that way, our ministry grinds to a halt. 

          The third, but probably not last temptation is this: “I don’t have time.”  There are countless good reasons why we don’t have time to worship, or to serve, or give.  The powers of evil count on people not having time to be the power of love in the world. 

          What we learn from Jesus’ time in the wilderness is that being the beloved Son of God was not about power, protection, and privilege for himself, but about having the power, privilege and protection to be the love of God for the world.  We learn the same thing about ourselves in the wilderness of Lent.  In the Lenten wilderness, as individuals and as a church, we turn from the temptations that call us away from being the abundant love of God for the world and claim the power to use our lives, and our equivalent of 18,000 cookies, to be that love.  The world is a wilderness where people are starving to experience the abundant love of God.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Amen.

Wretched

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

March 6, 2019

Ash Wednesday

          My least favorite prayer in the entire prayer book is the prayer we prayed at the beginning of this service.  The opening collect includes the words “Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness.”  A new and contrite heart is a good thing, and the prayer acknowledges that we cannot make that happen ourselves.  So far, so good.  Lamenting our sins and all the times we fall short of being the people God created us to be is a healthy exercise in honesty, also a good thing.  But take issue with acknowledging our wretchedness. 

          At the 5 o’clock children’s Ash Wednesday service, we talk about our identity as children of God and the meaning of being made in the image of God.  We talk about the way Jesus claimed us as God’s own and how we are marked on the forehead with a cross this day as we were marked with a cross at our baptism.  We talk about that cross being like putting our name on our lunchboxes or backpacks.  That cross is like God’s name being put on us and means that we belong to God.  I want the children to know that they are beloved children of God, made in the image of God.  We do not always do good things or make good decisions, but at our core we are made in the image of God and redeemed by Jesus, which makes us inherently good.

          So, when we lament our wretchedness on Ash Wednesday, what do we mean?

          In the gospel reading, which we hear every year on Ash Wednesday, Jesus gives us some instructions for how we are to practice our faith.  On the surface, almsgiving, prayer, and fasting seem pretty straightforward.  In Lent, many of us increase our charitable giving, perhaps by being more intentional about what we give to the food pantry or using our time to serve others.  We may add a time of prayer to our daily lives or attend a mid-week service.  And we may give up or fast from chocolate or alcohol or diet coke.  We sustain those practices for the 40 days of Lent and look forward to the release that comes with Easter.

          But I believe Jesus has a little more in mind this morning/evening.  When we give, whether money, time, or material goods, to those in need, we recognize our fundamental connection with the whole human family.   When we pray, we deepen our relationship with the God who created us and calls us into being.  Prayer connects us with both God and all of creation.  And when we fast, we recognize our very real dependence on God and how we tend to fill our hunger for God with other things.  The practices of Lent, the practices Jesus calls out for us, are all about deepening our connection with God and each other and recognizing that none of us is an island until ourselves. 

          The wretchedness we lament this day is not an intrinsic truth about our very being that no amount of good works will change.  The wretchedness we lament is our failure to live as the extraordinary human beings God created us to be and to treat every single person we meet as the extraordinary person God created them to be.  At every baptism, we promise to seek and serve Christ in all people, recognizing that Christ is in all people and that we are called to serve Christ there.  On Ash Wednesday, we devote ourselves to a season of practices that help us better see and serve Christ in everyone.

The prophet Isaiah makes clear the fast God desires from us with these words: “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?”

          The fast God desires from us, and the prayer and the almsgiving, is that which deepens our connections with God and the whole human family, helping us to recognize Christ in each person.  Our prayers this day are prayers that recognize the ways we fail in that connection.  In what seems like a paraphrase of our passage from Isaiah, Pope Francis offers these words to frame the practice of Lent: “Fast from hurting words ...and say kind words….Fast from anger ...and be filled with patience. Fast from pessimism ...and be filled with hope. Fast from worries ...and have trust in God. Fast from complaints ...and contemplate simplicity. Fast from pressures ...and be prayerful. Fast from bitterness ...and fill your hearts with joy. Fast from selfishness ...and be compassionate to others. Fast from grudges ...and be reconciled. Fast from words ...and be silent so you can listen.”  In other words, fast from those things that separate us from God and each other and practice those things that connect us.  Whatever our fast, or our almsgiving, or our prayer this Lent, may our practices draw us deeper into relationship with God, the human family, and all of creation, so that rather than lamenting our wretchedness, we can greet the risen Christ with a deeper understanding of who we truly are as beloved children of God.

                                                                                      Amen.

         

Survival Kit

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

March 3, 2019

Last Epiphany C

          Last Saturday, several of us from Christ Church attended a “Connecting Communities” workshop in Elyria.  The idea behind “Connecting Communities” is to give churches tools to better connect with the people in the community around them.  Since we have been working on doing exactly that for the past couple of years with projects like our booth at the Hudson Ice Cream Social, our presence at Community Day at the Farmers’ Market, our amazing float in the Memorial Day parade, and opening our doors and our restrooms for the Christmas Eve Frosty 5 mile run, this workshop seemed like a great way to get some new ideas. 

          One of our first activities at the workshop was to share a story of a time when we were most spiritually engaged and energized in our experience of our local church.  We had a few minutes to think about what that experience might be, then we shared them in our small group.  Everyone else in my group had a transformational experience of walking into an Episcopal Church from another Christian tradition, feeling the presence of God and knowing they were home.  Your very concrete and linear priest took the question in a more focused and recent way.  I talked about the way I feel spiritually engaged and energized when we sing a great hymn in church and Mario is going full bore on the organ and everyone is either singing their hearts out or simply dwelling in the music.  For me, that is a most spiritually engaging and energizing experience that sends me out into the world to face anything.

          Then, last Sunday afternoon, that very experience happened at Roxanne Grattan’s funeral.  Mario fired up the organ for the hymn “How Great Thou Art” and the church filled with glorious music as we sang our hearts out.  There were posts on Facebook about what an amazing experience that hymn was, and they weren’t my posts!  I was not the only person who found our singing of that hymn to be a spiritual experience that bound us together and helped us face the grief at hand.  For me, and for others, that was a mountain top experience.  And I, for one, would have been quite content to stay on that mountain a awhile. 

          This morning, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up the mountain to pray.  While Jesus was at prayer, the appearance of his face changed and his clothes became dazzling white.  Then Jesus is joined by Moses and Elijah, and by the time the three disciples realize what is going on, Jesus, Moses and Elijah are engaged in conversation about Jesus’ upcoming departure in Jerusalem.  Since the three disciples were barely awake, they missed the content of the conversation.  But they knew they were in the presence of Jesus’ glory and the two people from ancient times who represented the law and the prophets.  Peter might not have heard or understood the bit about Jesus’ impending departure, but he knew enough to want to stop time and seize the moment, offering to build a dwelling for each of the three men, holding the moment forever. 

          God has a different idea.  From a cloud, the voice of God says “This is my Son, my Chosen.  Listen to him!” 

          Listen to him.  My concrete, linear self would like to point out that, thus far, Jesus has not said anything.  Moses and Elijah spoke with Jesus about his departure, but Jesus does not appear to have said anything.  And when Peter offers to build three dwellings, speaking directly to Jesus, the voice of God answers.  So, what are we to listen to?

          Just prior to our story this morning, Jesus has said this to his disciples.  “‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”  Peter doesn’t want to follow Jesus.  Peter wants to stay on the mountain.  But we know from the next passage in Luke’s gospel that the three disciples do follow Jesus down the mountain, where they will find people who need to be cleansed of unclean spirits and healed of various diseases and infirmities.  They go back down the mountain to do the work they have been given to do and to follow Jesus on his journey to Jerusalem.

          Today, we sing some of the great hymns of the church, creating a bit of a mountain top experience for ourselves.  Some days, like Peter, I don’t want to follow Jesus down the mountain.  I would prefer to stay right here and keep singing these hymns.  But we are told to listen to Jesus, and what Jesus said is to follow him.  Where Jesus is going is to Jerusalem.  So, off we go down this mountain into the wilderness of Lent where the alleluias are buried and there is work to be done.  But today does give us a survival kit of sorts as we head down the mountain with Jesus to follow him on his journey.

          First, like the disciples, we have seen something of the glory of Jesus and can hold on to that, knowing that neither the Lenten wilderness nor any other wilderness has the final word.  The glory of Jesus will have the final word.  Secondly, like the disciples, we travel together.  Jesus did not go up the mountain alone, nor did he come down alone.  He took three disciples with him.  Both the glory and the wilderness are best experienced with Jesus and with each other.  So, in a variety of ways, we will travel down the mountain and through the wilderness together.  Lastly, like Jesus and the disciples, we are called to engage the world around us rather than just wait for Lent to be over and the glory of God to be raised from the dead.  We follow Jesus into the wilderness where there is a world in need of healing.  Together, we take the glory we have experienced, the glory we know, and leave this place, our little mountain top, to follow Jesus out the door and into the world.  We do not follow blindly, but we follow with out eyes wide open, looking for the opportunities to do Jesus’ work in the world.

          So, sing your hearts out this morning or simply dwell in the music.  Experience the glory of God in this moment.  Be nourished, engaged and energized.  Then, together, we will follow Jesus down the mountain and out the door, to make a Jesus difference in the world, this Lent and always.

                                                                             Amen.

Roxanne Grattan

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

February 24, 2019

Roxanne Grattan

          Roxanne was one of the first people I met at Christ Church.  She was from Xenia and I was coming from Springfield, Ohio, about 30 minutes away, so we connected quickly.  I soon discovered the Roxanne who met life on her own terms and did not hide her joy or her fear, her hopes or her frustrations.  In the few years I knew her, Roxanne had back surgery complete with what must have been a full set of complications, fought her way back, faced down a double knee replacement, experienced much personal loss and grief, and finally confronted the cancer that took her life, but not without a fight.  What I found remarkable about Roxanne was her raw honesty about her journey.  She was sustained by her faith in the God who, in the words of Isaiah, “gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless.” Roxanne was brave enough to cry in church, strong enough to care deeply for others in the midst of her own pain, and stubborn enough to refuse to take “no” for an answer.  I can only imagine how tenacious Roxanne was in her younger years.  Roxanne’s life and love impacted the lives of so many people over her 65 years.  Everyone participating in this service is part of a ministry Roxanne was involved with, from vestry, to Education for Ministry, to the flower guild, to the knitting group, and those were just her recent ministries.  Her ministry impacted people everywhere from Christ Church to Africa and a lot of points in between.  There are so many Roxanne stories to share as we celebrate her life today.

          But as much as we celebrate Roxanne’s life, we also gather today to grieve her death, to loosen our grip on her as wife, mother, sister, aunt, cousin, co-worker, student, or friend, and commit her eternal life to God.  We gather to tell stories, but we also gather to share tears.  We are told in scripture that Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus, his friend, so we have no shame in shedding our own tears when we lose a loved one.  The reading from Revelation promises a time when God “will wipe away the tears from all eyes.  Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more.”  But that time is not here yet.  Death is very real, and we are called to wipe away the tears from each other’s eyes.  Grief is hard work and demands to be respected.  Mark, Lauren, and Mark, Jr., you are surrounded this day by people who love you and want to help you in this work every way that we can.

          While we gather to celebrate and to grieve, primarily we gather in this church on this day to proclaim the resurrection of Jesus from the dead.  In her baptism many years ago, Roxanne was joined with Jesus in his death and resurrection.  In her death on January 19, Roxanne was joined with Jesus in new life.  In the reading from John’s gospel, we heard Jesus promise that he has gone ahead to prepare a place for us so that where he is, we might be also.  Roxanne has now joined Jesus in that place.  Roxanne is in that place where “those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.”  Roxanne is in that place where she is strong and whole again.  For that, we give God thanks and praise.

                                                                   Amen.

Sit!

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

February 19, 2019

6 Epiphany C

          I met my match last fall when I starting taking the Monday yoga class here at Christ Church.  A new practice would be good for me, I figured, and how hard could breathing and stretching be?  Was I ever in for a surprise!  Yoga takes concentration, balance, flexibility, and strength, none of which are my strong points, along with the ability to breath at the same time.  Yoga requires a lot of practice to achieve the mental clarity and focus that benefits daily life.  In fact, as our teacher says to me repeatedly, yoga is a practice.  A good yoga teacher changes everything up so often that yoga will always be practice and will always take a lot of practice, at least for me.  Sixth months in and the main difference for me is that now I have some idea what I am in for!

          The twelve apostles must be wondering what they are in for this morning.  Jesus is standing with them on a level place along with a great crowd of other disciples and throngs of people seeking healing.  But it is the twelve to whom Jesus is speaking this morning.  Jesus’ first words seem palatable enough.  “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.”  These sound like words of comfort to those who are poor, hungry, or sad.  The problem is that there is no evidence that the 12 were any of those.  Some owned boats, and one was a tax collector.  A few chapters later in Luke’s gospel the 12 will be told to take nothing with them on their journeys, so they must have possessions. These are clues that Jesus may be up to something other than words of comfort here.  But then, however, Jesus takes his teaching to a new level.   “Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man.” How does Jesus think he is going to attract and keep disciples talking like that?  And then, Jesus gets down right rude.  “But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.”  The irony of hearing those words on the Sunday we have the Big Reveal Party for our capital campaign is not lost on me.  What on earth does Jesus have against the ability to support oneself, a full belly, or a good laugh?

           We don’t know what the 12 apostles made of Jesus’ words, although we know they did not turn tail and run.  The real question is what are we to make of these words as 21^st century Christians in Hudson, Ohio where relative to most of the world, we are rich, full, and happy?

          First, to be clear, Jesus is not saying poverty, hunger, and grief are good.  Nor is he saying that riches, food, and joy are bad.  He is simply saying that those who are poor, hungry or sad are blessed, a word that in the Greek means content or at peace.    Jesus is saying “woe” or “watch out” to those who are rich, full, and joyful.  Jesus is not saying that one group is saved and the other group is damned, even though there is an eternal ring to Jesus’ words.  Jesus is not saying that those who are poor are the only ones who are blessed or that those who have riches cannot be blessed.  Jesus’ followers included many people of some means in Luke’s gospel.  Mary and Martha hosted Jesus in their home.  Zacchaeus the tax collector climbed a tree to see Jesus then hosted Jesus in his home.  The book of Luke/Acts is written to the most excellent Theophilus, likely a patron of some means.  Poverty is apparently not a criteria for being a follower of Jesus.

          So what is Jesus saying?  When Don and I lived in Springfield, Ohio, a city a lot like Akron but smaller, we encountered people in poverty on a regular basis, whether in the public schools, through our food pantry or the yearly neighborhood fair.  In conversation, the folks in line at the food pantry would tell me about their faith and all the ways God had blessed them.  Just getting out of bed and facing the day was a practice of faith for many of them.  Their stories were raw and often involved shut-off notices, evictions, prison, raising grandchildren, addiction, the humility of standing in line for free food, and problems I cannot begin to imagine.   Many of them relied on God for their security because there was not much else reliable in their lives.  I, on the other hand, have a home, family, friends, a great job, a retirement plan, and all sorts of other thing I can hold on to for a sense of security.  According to Jesus, the people at the food pantry are blessed because they have only God to hold on to for security, and they are well aware of their dependence on God every day.  They put their trust in God into practice day in and day out, when there is no food, money, or much else to hang on to.

          The prophet Jeremiah says this morning “Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals and make mere flesh their strength, whose hearts turn away from the Lord.”  Their roots are shallow and cannot find water when they need it.  Jeremiah then says “Blessed are those who trust in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord.”  The roots of their faith are deep and find water, in the words of both Jeremiah and the psalmist.  Jesus says to those of us with plenty “Watch out!  You can too easily put your trust in earthly things.”  Jesus is telling us that if we want our faith to sustain us when the going is hard-when grief or hardship or illness strike and our possessions and accomplishments give us little to hold on to-we have to practice trusting God for our security and our joy now. 

          Perhaps what Jesus is saying is this: “Blessed are those who will sit with their need, their hunger, and their grief, for I will fill that hole.  Woe to those who can fill their need, their hunger, and their grief with work, food and drink, or another order from Amazon Prime because there will be no room for me.”  Jesus comes to level ground to offer deep and lasting security to all of us.  Some of us just need a lot more practice loosening our grip on what we have and trusting the security Jesus offers.

                                                                             Amen.

Fish

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

February 10, 2019

5 Epiphany C

          For many years, I served as the chaplain to 4^th and 5^th graders at Procter Camp, the Episcopal Church camp in the Diocese of Southern Ohio.  The mornings were filled with worship that was energetic bordering on aerobic, and creative Bible study.  After lunch and a quick rest, the kids were off to their afternoon activities.  Those activities ranged from swimming to crafts to a variety of games and water sports to fishing.  Fishing at Procter Camp is fishing I can handle.  A counselor gets the bait and puts it on the hook for the camper.  The camper stands along the side of a pond with the hook in the water and waits for the fish to bite.  When the fish grabs the hook, the camper calls for the counselor who comes and takes the fish off the hook and throws it back in the pond.  The camper has the joy of catching a fish and the fish lives to see another day.  That’s a win-win in my book!

          The fishing we see in this morning’s gospel lesson has much higher stakes than fishing in the pond at Procter Camp.  Simon, who will soon be known as Peter, has been fishing all night and has caught nothing.  At Procter Camp, if you fish all afternoon and catch nothing, dinner is going to be the same hot dogs and macaroni and cheese regardless.  For Simon, however, no fish means no dinner and no income.  Simon is tired and discouraged.  There is no one to put bait on his hook, much less clean his nets.  Had he caught any fish, the responsibility for dealing with those fish would be all his. 

          Meanwhile, the crowds have gathered near the water to hear Jesus.  In the verses just before our gospel reading, Jesus has healed a man with an unclean spirit and healed Simon’s very own mother-in-law.  But Simon is not among those crowding around to hear Jesus. Simon is busy cleaning his nets, hoping to get home for a good day’s sleep before going out in search of fish again that night.  While Simon is distracted by the work of cleaning his nets, Jesus gets into Simon’s boat, and asks Simon to put out a ways so Jesus can teach from the boat.  Jesus did just heal Simon’s mother-in-law, so Simon does owe him a favor.

          The rest of the story is well known.  When he finishes teaching, Jesus tells Simon to put out into deep water and let the nets down. Simon is reluctant.  He had just spent all night putting the nets out and has nothing  to show for his labor other than dirty nets, and he has just spent no telling how long getting them clean for the next night.  But, of course, this time the nets overflow with fish and another boat has to be called to help.  Jesus then tells Simon that from now on, he will be catching people.

          What are we to do with this story that seems to tell us that the way to introduce people to Jesus is to catch them in a net and treat them like fish?  I do not think Jesus is thinking about a catch and release program like at Procter Camp!  But on the other hand, I don’t think Jesus is thinking about a fish fry either.

          First, I think this story calls us to think about what we can do when we let Jesus into the boat with us.  Alone, Simon could do nothing.  But with Jesus in the boat, Simon had an unimaginably large haul of fish.  The same is true for us.  When we seem to be working hard and accomplishing nothing, whether in our individual lives or here at Christ Church, perhaps we need to check and see whether we’ve invited Jesus into the boat, and what Jesus would have us do.

          Secondly, Jesus tells Simon to put out into deep water and let down the nets.  Putting out into deep water is hard work.  The nets have to be let down further.  Controlling them is more difficult and hauling the catch up from the deep is harder.  Picking low hanging fruit is easy.  Going deeper is harder.  Jesus calls us not to shy away from what looks difficult or even impossible.  Put out into deep water and see what you find. 

          Thirdly, this story is 99% about Jesus and only 1% about Simon.  Jesus asks Simon to take his boat out a little ways from shore so Jesus can teach from the water.  Jesus has the idea to put the nets out into deep water.  Jesus is the origin of the great haul of fish.  Most of the time, Simon is probably feeling rather inconvenienced by Jesus.  Simon is tired.  He’s had a long night, and despite all of his efforts, he has nothing to show for his work.  So Simon is not contributing a whole lot to the story, and the story he has to tell when he gets back to the shore is all about Jesus. 

          The reading from 1 Corinthians reminds us that our story as Christians is all about Jesus.  The passage we heard is one of the earliest and tightest proclamations of the Good News that we have from the early church.  Paul writes “For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve.”  Paul then lists the others to whom Christ appeared.  The heart of our story, the story we have to share, the story that I believe serves as the grounding for our lives and the way we introduce others to Jesus, is all about Jesus.  What we have to offer the world is the message that Christ died for our sins, which means that our identity is not defined by the sum total of our own successes minus our own failures, which would leave a lot of us in the negative category many days.  Our identity comes from Christ’s infinite love for us from the cross.  The second part of that proclamation is that life is stronger than death.  Christ died and was buried then was raised back to life.  No matter what happens to us, life has the final say.

          The story of the great haul of fish calls us to be disciples of Jesus who live with the courage that comes from believing that Jesus can do amazing, even impossible things through us.  What Jesus wants to do through us, through all of our lives and ministries, whatever they are, is tell the world that our identity comes from being loved by God, that love is stronger than hate, and that life is stronger than death.  The world is starving for that story.

                                                                   Amen.

Power

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

February 3, 2019

4 Epiphany C

          For Christmas, Bishop Hollingsworth gave each of the parish clergy in the diocese a copy of the book “The Power of Love.”  The book is a collection of several sermons by our Presiding Bishop Michael Curry, including the sermon he preached at the Royal Wedding last May.  I have read the first sermon, the royal wedding sermon, but I have not yet gotten to the other three.  But, since, like most preachers, the Presiding Bishop really only has one sermon, I can imagine that the other three sermons deliver much the same message.  That message is summed up on the back cover of the book which gives four quotes from Bishop Curry’s sermons.  One: “There is power in love to help and to heal when nothing else will.”  Two: “There is power in love to lift and liberate when nothing else will.” Three: “There is power in love to show us the way to live.”  And four: “I’m talking about power, real power, to change the world.” 

          This morning, we hear Jesus read from the prophet Isaiah and then say to the people in the synagogue “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”  That scripture is actually a combination of several unattached verses from Isaiah, and we heard those words in last week’s gospel reading.  "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."  These are the words about which Jesus says “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

          I have several problems with this passage.  First, Jesus seems to set himself up for failure when he says things like “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, 'Doctor, cure yourself!'” or "Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet's hometown.”  Everything was going fine up until that point.  The people were amazed at the gracious words that came from Jesus’ mouth.  Jesus was bringing them Good News.  Why would Jesus seem to sabotage himself by putting words of criticism in the people’s mouths?  Secondly, Jesus tells two stories in which the people who experienced God’s liberation were not Hebrew people, and, in fact, the Hebrew people themselves did not experience God’s liberation.  So, were Jesus’ gracious words meant only for Gentiles, and not for the Jews? The people are so enraged at Jesus words that Jesus is nearly thrown off the cliff.  Why does Jesus need to provoke the people to such anger?

          The third problem, and the most pressing one in my opinion, is the utter lack of evidence most days that Jesus’ claim “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” is true.  A quick look at the news on any day demonstrates that the oppressed are still oppressed, the blind and sick are still blind and sick, and people are still captive to the many, many different things that bind us.  Whether we look globally, nationally, locally, or around our own congregation, many days the evidence for Jesus’ claim seems slim.  So, what on earth could Jesus possibly mean?

          Jesus’ words in the synagogue are the first words in Jesus’ public ministry.  These words are his inaugural address of sorts.  At Jesus’ baptism, not all that long ago, we heard the voice of God say “You are my Son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased.”  Jesus, the beloved Son of God, with whom God is well pleased, shows up today in the synagogue in Nazareth, reads from the scroll of the prophet Isaiah, then says “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”  I believe Jesus is telling the people that today, the love of God has shown up in their midst, and the love of God is the good news that is proclaimed to the poor, the release that is proclaimed to the captives, the recovery of sight that is proclaimed to the blind, and the year of jubilee or forgiveness that is proclaimed to all.

          Proclamation alone does not typically make something happen, however.  Action makes something happen.  And Jesus spent his earthly ministry turning his proclamation into action and being the Love of God in the world.  The soaring words in 1 Corinthians describe that love for us.  The Love of God, and the love we are called to imitate, is patient, and kind.  That love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  And that love is for everyone, which is perhaps the truth that made the people in the synagogue so angry.  If love is a zero sum game, then when outsiders get some of the love, there is less for the insiders.  But Paul is not describing a zero sum game.  Paul is describing love that is infinite, love that is doubled and tripled as needed, not halved and quartered to be distributed evenly like a pie being divided among children. 

          So, was the passage from Isaiah being fulfilled in the people’s hearing?  In Jesus, the love of God showed up and proclaimed release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, freedom from oppression and from crippling, relentless debt.  If Bishop Curry is right, and there is power in love to help and to heal when nothing else can, and to lift and liberate when nothing else will, and power to change the world, then yes, Isaiah’s words are fulfilled whenever the Love of God shows up.  The power of love, the radical love the Paul describes, is the power to bring healing when hope feels lost, to extend forgiveness when division seems to have the final word, and to lift and liberate when oppression clearly seems to have won.  The power of love is our power to proclaim with Jesus “Today, this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing,” to use that power to change the world, and to be the evidence that Jesus’ claim is true.

                                                                                              Amen.