Stop Counting!

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

September 17, 2017

19 Proper A

          When Don and I moved into our house in Hudson, the number of books we brought with us out numbered the available bookcase space by about 10 to 1, or perhaps 20 to 1.  My books all fit on the very generous bookshelves in my office.  Don’s books, however, had come from the entire wall of floor to ceiling bookcases in his office at Wittenberg, and our house does not have an entire wall of bookcases.  So, I went online and ordered several nice bookcases, but they are the kind that come in a small box and turn into 6 foot tall pieces of furniture.  Unfortunately, they neither inflate to that size nor do they expand to that size when immersed in water.  They have to be put together.

          Actually, I do not really mind putting furniture together, so long as the instructions are good and break the complicated project into very small bite size pieces.  There is something satisfying about following the instructions to the letter, from counting and identifying the 432 pieces, to attaching the parts to each other, to finally looking at the finished product, which, so long as I’ve done everything right, will actually stay finished.  Following the instructions exactly pretty much guarantees success, which is very gratifying. 

          Peter just wants just such a set of instructions this morning.  He would like following Jesus to be broken down into simple quantifiable steps so he can be guaranteed success.  “Lord,” Peter says, “If another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive?  As many as seven times?”  Peter’s heart is in the right place.  He wants to make sure he forgives the right number of times, and seven is a good Biblical number.  Seven also seems like a very generous number of times to forgive, so I imagine Peter was quite taken aback when Jesus says “Not seven times, but I tell you, seventy-seven times.”  Seriously?  Why would anyone forgive seventy-seven times?  The instruction manual that was supposed to simplify life just got very complicated.  Then we hear a parable about a slave who begged for forgiveness from his lord, which was granted, but then refused to forgive someone who asked him for forgiveness.   The lord hands the slave over to be tortured until the slave can pay his entire debt, which will never happen since making money while being tortured is not quite possible.

          When Jesus tells Peter he is to forgive seventy-seven times, what Jesus is really saying is “Stop counting.”  Rather than count, Jesus is asking us to be a community that mirrors God’s forgiveness.   If we want instructions that guarantee success, the instructions are not going to involve numbers and measurements.  The instructions are going to tell us how to be such a community.

          In the letter to the Romans, Paul writes to a community that was in the midst of conflict over the eating of meat, and whether to treat one day as sacred or all days as equal.  In dealing with that conflict, Paul reminds the Romans that as Christians we neither live nor die to ourselves.  If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord.  So, then, whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.  If those words sound familiar, by the way, they are the opening words of our funeral service.  Paul’s point is that we belong to God.  If we belong to God, we are to mirror God’s forgiveness and live in God’s mercy.  Sometimes we have to mirror that forgiveness and mercy with our actions long before our hearts are ready.  Judgement, we are reminded, belongs to God.

           Paul also reminds us, as does Jesus in his parable, that we are all ultimately accountable to God.  Forgiveness is not about lack of accountability or accepting unacceptable behavior.  When we forgive, whether or not forgiveness has been requested or deserved, we unbind ourselves from what has been done to us so we can be about the work of restoring broken community.  Nelson Mandela, who spent 27 years in prison in South Africa, said “Resentment is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.”  For a broken community to be restored, the first step is to end resentment and practice forgiveness.  When Peter asks Jesus how many times he should forgive, he is asking how many times should he forgive before just giving up and getting on with life.  Jesus’ answer is that we must never give up on restoring the community to wholeness.

          In Jesus’ parable, the wicked slave failed to show others the forgiveness he had received and the slave was bound to his debts forever.  The instruction manual Jesus gives us for forgiveness is short.  Model for the world the forgiveness we have been given.  If we want a measurement, the measurement is to forgive as much as God has forgiven us.  Jesus makes the instructions simple and clear.  

                                                                             Amen

Anniversary

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

September 10, 2017

18 Proper A

          If you were to come into the church early on a Sunday morning, well before the 8 o’clock service starts, you would likely hear the strains of music coming from somewhere in the building.  This music would not be the music Valerie creates on the organ.  The music might be great hymns of the church coming from the rector’s cell phone, but there is a good chance the music coming from her phone is some great country music.  I have lots of favorites, from “God is great, Beer is good, People are crazy,” to “If you’re going through hell, keep on moving,” to my absolute favorite, “Always be humble and kind.” But the country song that comes to mind today is Tim McGraw’s song “The next 30 years.”  The song begins with the words “I think I’ll take a moment, celebrate my age, the ending of an era and the turning of a page.”  Then he sings “Now it’s time to focus in on where I go from here.  Lord have mercy on my next 30 years.”  McGraw sets some goals for his next thirty years, most of which can be summed up with his line “Find a world of happiness without the hate and fear, figure out just what I’m doing here in my next 30 years.” 

          Today, we are taking a moment to celebrate our age.  I don’t know that we’re celebrating the end of an era as much as we are looking to build on a rich past, but we are always looking to see what new page God is turning in our midst.  I have to admit that, a few weeks ago when I looked at the scripture readings for today, I was less than amused.  They seem to be another verse of what could be a country song: “I don’t pick ‘em, I just preach ‘em.”

          But, as often happens, a deeper look at those readings revealed a bit more connection with today’s celebration.  In the reading from Exodus, the people are told how to remember an event that has not yet happened.  All of the instructions about the preparation of the lamb are to help the people remember the mighty work which God will do to lead the people out of bondage in Egypt.  There is a curious mixture of past, present, and future in this passage as God prepares the people for what is ahead.  And there are a number of troubling aspects to the story as well, as God plans to kill every first born in the land of Egypt, both human and animal.  I don’t have an answer to that.

Why does God want the people to remember the Passover and the Exodus in perpetuity?  If we read further in Scripture, we see that the purpose in remembering is not to glorify the past, but to remember what God has done for the Hebrew people in the past so that they can see what God is doing for them in the present and trust in what God will do for them in the future.  As we celebrate the 175^th anniversary of this great parish today, we do not celebrate in order to glorify the past, as if we want to go backwards and be something we once were.  We celebrate to remember all that God has done for us.  We remember how God has both led this faithful and tenacious parish through waters that threatened to drown us and guided us on new adventures, both of which have happened any number of times since 1842 according to our history.  We remember what God has done in the past so that we can see what God is doing in our midst today and trust that God will act in our future. 

          But there are some ground rules.  As we look to our next 175 years, or our next 12 months, the reading from Romans reminds us of God’s very simple, although perhaps not easy, command for our life together.  “Love your neighbor as yourself.”   How do we show that love to each other, to our neighbors in Hudson, our neighbors in Texas, Florida and out west, and our neighbors around the world, especially those who face difficult times?  What about our neighbors who join us in this building week after week such as First Presbyterian Church, the Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, SAGE, AA, and Music from the Western Reserve, to name just a few?  How do we treat them as neighbors and not just as people who have a key to the building?  Part of our “finding happiness and figuring out what we’re doing here” in our next chapter will have to do with how we connect with and love all of our neighbors.

          Jesus wants to make sure we know what he means by loving our neighbor.  In the gospel reading, Jesus seems to be giving us the steps we have to take before we can finally cast out someone who offends us.  However, Jesus is actually teaching us how we are to be in community together, even with those who offend us.  Jesus is teaching us not to hold grudges but to restore relationships so that we can model a different way of dealing with offenses for the world.  If, after trying a variety of ways to connect with the offender and bring about resolution, the offender still doesn’t listen, what are we to do?  Treat that person as a Gentile and a tax collector!  Does that mean we can treat the person as unclean and cast the person into utter darkness?  Actually, no.  How did Jesus treat the gentile and the tax collector?  He dined with them and called them to be his disciples.  This does not mean that all behavior is acceptable in the church.  Jesus has high standards for our behavior.  But as a wise colleague told me years ago when I was wrestling with some bad behavior in another church, “All people are welcome; all behaviors are not.”  Jesus did not give up on people, and Jesus calls us to be equally persistent.

          Today, we celebrate the rich history of this parish and we remember all that God has done for us over the last 175 years.  We remember our past so we can see God at work in the present, calling us to love each other and our neighbors with the same love we have experienced from God.  And we look to a future in which, whatever we do, we know that our call is to model the love God has for us, in a world that desperately needs to hear the Good News.  Together, we will figure out how God is calling us to do that in our future years, for a world that certainly needs, in the words of the great country song, “to find a little happiness without the hate and fear.”

                                                                                      Amen

         

          

Ordinary

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

September 3, 2017

17 Proper A

          Don and I have friends who always take their shoes off when they enter our home.  If the weather is cold, they bring comfortable indoor shoes to slip on.  The same friends request, but do not require, that anyone entering their home remove their shoes as well.  I have always thought that the practice of removing one’s shoes when entering a home was about not tracking dirt into the house, which makes a lot of sense.  But I wonder if this custom is also about something deeper that has more to do with receiving hospitality.   When I take off my shoes in someone’s home, I indicate that I intend to stay a while and be focused on the occasion at hand.  To leave will require some effort.

          This morning, Moses is out beyond the wilderness tending his father-in-law’s flock when God calls to Moses from a burning bush and tells Moses to take off his shoes.  The ground on which Moses is standing is holy ground, which means that Moses is on ground where God is present.  I wonder if God is offering Moses a certain kind of hospitality.  Perhaps God  wants Moses to stop and be fully present to God, rather than having one foot out the door while he worries about the flock.

          When we last saw Moses, he was a baby.  Last Sunday, we heard the story of his birth and how he was hidden from Pharaoh until he was three months old, because Pharaoh wanted to kill all the Israelite male babies.  When his mother put him in a basket in the river, one of Pharaoh’s daughters found him, took him as her own, and hired Moses’ own mother to nurse him.  Now, Moses is grown, married, and working for his father-in-law. That’s a lot of growing up in a week!  And between last Sunday and today, Moses has killed an Egyptian who was beating a Hebrew and fled for his life. 

          So, let’s get this straight: This morning, God is asking Moses, a fugitive on the run, to return to the scene of the crime and ask the person who most wants his life, Pharaoh, if he can please release the Israelite people, who we know Pharaoh fears losing because that is why he enslaved and oppressed the Israelites to begin with.  No wonder Moses protests “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”  God’s plan makes no sense whatsoever. 

          Jesus’ plan makes no sense whatsoever to Peter this morning.  Last week we heard Jesus ask the disciples “Who do you say that I am?”  And we heard Peter reply “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.”  This week, Jesus predicts his own suffering, death, and resurrection.  Jesus’ words do not fit with Peter’s plan for Jesus at all.  When Peter responds “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you!”, Jesus’ rebuke cuts to the bone.  “Get behind me Satan.  You are a stumbling block to me, for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”  Peter, who last week was given the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven, is now being called Satan.

          Moses and Peter have two things in common.  Both are flawed people who are asked to do big things by God.  Moses killed someone and Peter is so totally wrong about who Jesus is that Jesus calls him Satan. Yet God still intends for Moses to lead the Israelites out of Egypt, and Peter still holds the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven.  Secondly, both are setting their minds on human things rather than divine ones.  Moses cannot wrap his head around the idea that he should be the one to lead the people out of Egypt, not understanding the power of God to work through him.  Peter cannot imagine that the Son of the Living God would suffer and die, not understanding what God will accomplish through Jesus’ suffering and death.  Both are focused on human limitations rather than divine possibility.

          God asks us to set our minds on divine things, not human things.  We can easily think of Moses and Peter as the superheroes of the faith with some super faith power we don’t have.  But that is setting our minds on human things.  Moses and Peter are examples of the way God uses ordinary flawed people to accomplish extraordinary things.  On this Labor Day Sunday, we stop and stand on this holy ground, figuratively barefoot if not literally, fully present to God as we ask God to bless the labor of our lives, so that God can use our ordinary work to accomplish extraordinary things.   Sometimes those extraordinary things are things that look extraordinary to human eyes.  We have certainly seen examples of extraordinary work this week as people risked their own lives to rescue others from flood waters, opened their homes to strangers, and gave generously to help others rebuild their lives. Sometimes those extraordinary things are extraordinary only to the divine eyes.  Paul calls us to let love be genuine, hate what is evil, and love one another with mutual affection.  Mother Teresa of Calcutta said “Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”  When we do small things with great love, God’s love, things that seem small become extraordinary.  God calls us to offer our ordinary lives to become extraordinary.

                                                                                      Amen.

One

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

August 27, 2017

16 Proper A

          After much anticipation and weeks of waiting for the eclipse last Monday, I have to say that I found the experience rather anticlimactic here in Northeast Ohio.  Several members of the staff and I gathered on the porch of Beebe House off and on over the course of the early afternoon, sharing the one pair of eclipse glasses that Lucy Kistler had brought.  We took turns watching as the sun was slowly blotted out by the moon, which was interesting, but not dramatic as the sky never darkened beyond what seemed like a normal cloudy afternoon.  At one brief point, there seemed to be a slightly eerie light outside, but that was pretty much the extent of the effect of the eclipse on Aurora Street.  However, I did watch the eclipse online from places where the sky went completely dark in the middle of the afternoon and the emerging sun had a brilliant glow.  I can see how people centuries ago might have thought the world was coming to an end. 

          In my humble opinion, one of the very best things about the eclipse is that for most of one day, the whole country seemed to focus on something beyond ourselves and our disagreements.  We were captivated by the sun and the moon.  I would even go so far as to say that for a brief time, we were united in the wonder of creation.  The other side effect of the eclipse is the realization of how very, very small we are in the context of the whole of that creation. 

          I don’t know about you, but I can easily feel small these days.  Whether in the face of an eclipse, divisive politics, a massive, devastating hurricane, or the raging humanitarian crises in Yemen and other parts of the world, I wonder what one person can possibly do to make a difference in the face of challenges of such magnitude.  That feeling of smallness can lead to paralysis, and the temptation is to retreat and sit on the couch watching endless hours of Netflix. 

Fortunately, Shiphrah and Puah do not feel small in the face of a great challenge this morning.  The situation of the Hebrew people has changed dramatically since we last checked in on them last week.  Last week, Joseph, the son of Jacob, grandson of Isaac, and great grandson of Abraham, was the ruler of Egypt.  Now Joseph's people are held in oppressive and brutal slavery in that very same land.  The King of Egypt is afraid that the Hebrew people will multiply, and in the event of war, join Egypt's enemies, and escape from Egypt.  But the more brutal the Egyptians made the lives of the Hebrews, the faster the Hebrews multiplied. So the King orders that all Hebrew baby boys are to be killed.  This morning, the Hebrew midwives, Shiphrah and Puah, refuse to obey the King’s command.   These two women were hardly likely candidates to stand up to power.  They were not politicians, royalty, or military leaders.  The two midwives are two ordinary women going about the work they have been called to do, delivering babies.  In the course of that very normal work, they are given the opportunity to make a difference, and they do.

Jesus asks the disciples this morning “Who do you say that I am?”  My guess is that a very long silence followed that question.  The disciples stared at their feet, examined their fingernails, and got very interested in something on the ground, hoping that someone else would speak up.  But finally, Simon looks Jesus in the eye and says "You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God!"  Bingo!  The prize for having answered the question correctly is nothing other than a new name, the keys to the kingdom of heaven, and the assurance that the gates of Hades will not prevail. 

I wonder if Simon, now Peter, and the other disciples understood that by recognizing that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God, they were also claiming something about themselves as followers of Jesus.  As followers of Jesus, they would be transformed, as Peter’s new name signifies.  They would hold the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven, making them responsible for making the Kingdom of Heaven a more present reality on earth.  And they would be responsible for making sure that the gates of hell would not prevail against that effort.  In short, as followers of Jesus, they would be expected to answer the question “Who do you say that I am” not only with their lips, but with their lives.

The apostle Paul calls us this morning to be transformed by the renewing of our minds, but that does not mean that our faith is a purely mental exercise.  Paul tells us to be transformed by the renewing of our minds so that we can discern the will of God- that which is good and acceptable and perfect, and to present our bodies as a living sacrifice.  How are we called, individually and as a church, to use our lives to make the Kingdom of God a more present reality on earth, and a place were the gates of hell do not prevail?  Shiphrah and Puah did this as midwives, saving the Hebrew babies.  We are engineers, teachers, business people, medical professionals, moms, dads, students, or countless other vocations.  In the face of natural disaster, humanitarian crises, and deep injustice, Jesus calls each of us, as Jesus called Peter and the disciples, to use our lives to answer the question “Who do you say that I am?”

                                                                   Amen.

Barriers

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

August 20, 2017

15 Proper A

Some years ago, I ran into a former grade school teacher of one of our sons.  We were both at a reception following a funeral when we had one of those "Don't I know you from somewhere" moments.  About 15 years had elapsed since this teacher had taught our son, but during the year that our son was in her classroom, the teacher and I had an unfortunate disagreement over the way a particular situation had been handled.  If the teacher had 30 students a year, and 15 years had passed since we last encountered each other, then some 450 students and no doubt several disagreeable parents had passed through her classroom since we last met.  So, hopefully the teacher had forgotten our unpleasant encounter.  However, here’s a free parenting tip: if you don't want your children's teachers to remember them, do not give them names like Slocomb and Caldwell!  And indeed, 15 years later, the teacher did remember our son.  Whether or not she remembered our disagreement, I will never know because if she did, she was gracious enough not to mention it.  Nonetheless, I felt a bit awkward to say the least.

          Awkward does not begin to describe what Joseph's brothers are feeling this morning when they find out that the powerful ruler standing before them is actually the little brother they sold into slavery.  Now, many years have passed and a famine has come upon the land.  Because Joseph had understood one of Pharaoh's dreams to mean that there would be seven years of abundance, followed by seven years of famine, Egypt had prepared well for the famine.  Not only that, but the Pharaoh had made Joseph ruler over Egypt.  When we catch up with Joseph and his brothers this morning, Joseph's brothers stand before him, unaware of his identity, in dire need of food to purchase and take home to their father and families.  When Joseph reveals his identity to his brothers this morning, they are understandably mortified.  But rather than be angry with his brothers, Joseph explains that God has worked through their misdeeds so that now their family can be kept alive.  God has taken a bad situation and used that situation to break down the barriers created between the brothers so that the family could survive.  But those barriers did not come down by magic.  Humility was required on the part of the brothers, and charity was required on the part of Joseph.  Love, despite the earlier barriers they had put up, was required by all of them.

          Jesus seems to be creating barriers this morning.  When the Canaanite woman approaches Jesus and tells Jesus that her daughter is possessed by a demon, Jesus ignores her as if she is not there.  The disciples, too, want to keep the barrier between the woman and Jesus as they tell Jesus to send her away.  Jesus’ mission is to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and this woman is of another house. Is Jesus’ testing the woman?  Is Jesus just in a bad mood that day?  Is Jesus so moved by the woman’s faith that his understanding of his ministry is expanded?  There are many theories about why Jesus responds to the Canaanite woman in such a seemingly callous way.   But where the disciples and Jesus may see a barrier between the Canaanite woman and themselves, the Canaanite woman sees no barrier.  Her faith is so great that she believes Jesus can heal her daughter with a word. She neither needs to bring her daughter to Jesus nor take Jesus to her daughter.  The woman will not leave, and she even spars a bit with Jesus, responding to his comment about not taking the children’s food and throwing it to the dogs with “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”  At this point, for whatever reason, the barrier falls, and Jesus says ““Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.”  And the woman’s daughter was healed instantly.  Not only was the barrier between the Canaanite woman and the Jewish men destroyed, the barrier that separated the daughter from her health was gone as well.

          I believe God wept this week as God witnessed the deep, vitriolic barriers between human beings.  God wept at the extreme ugliness and violence that result when the gifts of race, religion, and sexual orientation are used to divide the human family.  God wept at the resulting chaos.  There were times this week when I wanted to say “Just wake me up when this is over.”  But God did not give up and neither can we, even if we may feel somewhat sheltered from that ugliness here in Hudson.  Just as God was able to take the bad situation in which Joseph was thrown into the pit and sold into slavery and use that situation to advance the story of God’s people, we have seen God at work through displays of unity in Charlottesville and around the country, as people of a variety of races, faiths, and sexual orientations came together to stand in solidarity with those who are marginalized.  God has been at work in new conversations that open our eyes to implicit racism and privilege and open our ears to really hear each other.  In the Good Friday world that we saw so clearly this week, there were glimpses of Easter.

Our Presiding Bishop, Michael Curry, our first African-American Presiding Bishop, reminded us this week of the last book Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote. In 1967, when the world was as divided then as it is now, King wrote the book “Where do we go from here? Chaos or community?”  This week, we ask “Where do we go from here?”  We can choose chaos, but the chaos will further tear us apart.  And that is not who we are.  As Christians, we are people who believe that, at the deepest level, we are all connected.  Scripture is clear that God calls us to choose community and to be a community that works for justice and peace, and respects the dignity of every human being.  But there is no magic wand that will tear down the barriers and replace them with bridges.  Like Joseph and his brothers, we must be willing to do the work.  Like the Canaanite woman, we must be persistent and not give the barriers the final say.  In the words of Dr. King, which contain the gospel truth, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness. Only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate.  Only love can do that.”  The gospel calls us to practice love.  

                                                                   Amen

Walking on Water

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Episcopal Church

August 13, 2017

14 Proper  A

If we want to hear stories about perfect families, perhaps we should look somewhere other than the Bible.  This morning we hear a story of sibling rivalry that lets us know we are in good company if our family is not exactly or even close to perfect.  In our readings from the Old Testament this summer, we have heard the story of the near sacrifice of Isaac, and the apparent estrangement of Isaac and his father Abraham from that moment on.  Isaac’s son Jacob was tricked into marrying Laban’s first born daughter, Leah, before he could also marry Rachel, the love of Jacob’s life.  In his old age, Isaac was fooled by his wife Rebekah and his younger son Jacob into giving the birthright of his eldest son Esau to his younger son.  Today we hear about two additional wives of Jacob, Bilhah and Zilpah, handmaids of Rachel and Leah who Jacob also married, and the tension between the 12 sons of these various wives.  Joseph was the favorite son of Jacob because he was the first born son of Rachel, Jacob’s favorite wife.  Now we hear that 17 year old Joseph has tattled on his brothers, who, we are told, already hate him.  In an act of extreme sibling rivalry, the 11 brothers plotted Joseph’s demise.  One brother, Rueben, convinced the other 10 to spare Joseph’s life, so they threw Joseph into a pit, then sold him to some Midianite traders who took Joseph to Egypt.  If this sounds like a huge, complicated mess to you, you are hearing correctly.  God had promised Abraham, Joseph’s great-grandfather, that Abraham would have descendants that number the stars in the sky, and that they would inhabit a great land.  With Jacob’s 12 sons, the family is moving in the right direction for ample descendants, but the move to Egypt takes them away from the promised land of God.  In short, the descendants of Abraham are now in a real mess.

While Jesus’ disciples are not in a generational mess this morning, they do find themselves in a frightful situation.  After feeding 5000 men, plus women and children, Jesus made the disciples get in a boat and head to the other side of the lake.  They are in the middle of the lake, with the wind against them, fighting their way to the other side, when they see what they believe to be a ghost.  Peter wants proof that this ghost is really Jesus so, at Jesus’ invitation, Peter climbs out of the boat and attempts to walk on the water to Jesus.  When he sees the strong wind, he becomes frightened and begins to sink.  Jesus saves him with a reprimand: “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

This story leads us to believe that if Peter just had enough faith, he could walk on water like Jesus.  If we are not careful, we quickly slide into thinking that if WE just had enough faith, WE could walk on water as well, defying the forces that threaten to drown us whether they be natural disaster, sickness or disease, worry about global instability, or our own family problems.

There are two problems with this line of thinking.  First, throughout scripture, control over the seas belongs to God, not humans.  God caused the great flood that wiped out all living things not on Noah’s ark, and God caused the rains to stop.  God parted the Red Sea, so that Moses could lead the Hebrew people across the water and away from the Egyptians.  In the book of Jonah, “the Lord hurled a great wind upon the sea, and such a mighty storm came upon the sea that the ship threatened to break up.”  The list goes on and on.  The ability to control the sea belongs to God, not humans.

Secondly, Peter’s problem when he begins to sink is identified as fear.  But when Jesus rescues Peter, he says “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”  What Peter and the disciples doubted was the identity of Jesus.  First, the disciples thought Jesus was a ghost.  And, at 3am in the pitch dark in the middle of the water in a boat being battered by waves, a ghost makes much more sense than thinking that Jesus has strolled out on the water to check on them.  Then Peter says “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”  Peter is testing the identity of their visitor.  When Peter begins to sink and Jesus says “You of little faith. Why did you doubt?” the only thing Peter has doubted is the identity of Jesus.  The point of the story is to prove that Jesus is God, not to make the disciples feel badly because they cannot walk on water.  And at the end of the story, the point has been made, as the disciples say “Truly you are the son of God.”

In the Hebrew Scriptures, God identifies himself as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  In other words, God identifies himself as the God of the whole complicated mess of a story that we find in the book of Genesis.  God does not give up on the Hebrew people, no matter how much they doubt, how much trouble they get into, or how far they stray.  God is their God and they are God’s people for the long haul.  In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us.  By having power over the stormy seas, Jesus demonstrates that he is God.  By coming out to the disciples in the boat, Jesus demonstrates that he is with them.  The story about Jesus walking on the water is not a story designed to make us feel inadequate because we do not have the faith to walk on water.  We are humans.  We are not called to walk on water.  When times are fearful and our boat is being battered by waves and is far from land, or when we feel like we’ve been thrown in a pit and sold into bondage, whether we are in a self-made mess or one we have absolutely no control over, Jesus does not expect us to walk on water.  Jesus does expect us to believe that he can walk on water, that he is with us, and that his presence matters.  Jesus’ presence with us gives us the courage we need to be the people God has created and called us to be.  As followers of Jesus, the command of the gospel is, in the words of our Baptismal covenant, to resist evil, to seek and serve Christ in all people, to respect the dignity of every human being, and to work for justice and peace.   The promise of the gospel is that in good times, and especially in frightful and difficult times, Jesus is with us.

        Amen.

Transfiguration

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

August 6, 2017

Transfiguration

          Some years ago, the comedian Robin Williams put forth the top 10 reasons to be an Episcopalian.  The list includes things like no snake handling, pew aerobics, the color coded liturgical year, and “all of the pageantry; none of the guilt.”  Much about Robin Williams’ list is commendable, and much of the list is humorous, reminding us not to take ourselves too seriously.  But I wonder what reasons others give for being an Episcopalian, or being part of Christ Church.  So, this week I did a highly unscientific study to find out the top reasons for being part of Christ Church.

          Interestingly, most of the answers I got were connected in some way with either our Baptismal Covenant or the prayers in the Baptism service.  A couple of the responses reflected the prayer that we pray for the newly baptized in which we ask God to give that person “an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, and the gift of joy and wonder in all God’s works.”  Other responses connected with our commitment in baptism to seek and serve Christ in all persons, and to strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being.  Yet another response valued the relationships formed among those who love God and work to share that love with others, echoing our promise in baptism to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ.  Overall, I found a deep attraction to the understanding of baptism we hold in the Episcopal Church.

          Today is the Feast of the Transfiguration.  Jesus has taken Peter, James, and John and gone up on a mountain to pray. While Jesus was praying, the appearance of his face changed, his clothes became dazzling white, and Moses and Elijah appeared.  When Peter wants to stay on the mountain top forever, the voice of God speaks clearly to the disciples. “This is my Son, my Chosen. Listen to him.”

          Stories like this one are challenging.  Is the message that, if we pray hard enough, our faces will change and our clothes will become dazzling white?  I don’t think so.  Is the message that we have to have a mountain top experience to hear God speak?  I hope not.  What does the transfiguration of Jesus mean for our own lives as Christians?

          The moment the disciples realize that they are on the mountain with the transfigured Jesus, Moses, and Elijah is a moment that is alive with hope and possibility.  If Moses and Elijah, representing the law and the prophets, two of the pillars of the Hebrew faith, appear with Jesus, anything is possible.  The disciples are literally and figuratively on top of the world, and Peter, at least, would like to hold that moment forever.  But in a split second, that hope turns to terror when they are enveloped in the darkness of a cloud.  God speaks in the midst of the darkness, and tells the disciples that Jesus is God’s beloved son, God’s chosen, and they are to listen to him.  Quite possibly because of their terror, we are told that the three keep silent and tell no one in those days what they have seen.

          Perhaps the movement from being on top of the world or at the top of our game one moment, to being utterly terrified the next, is a place we can connect with this story.  Life can be dancing right along, with everything going our way, when the rug is pulled out from under us and a dark cloud enfolds us.  I believe this is true for individuals but also nations as well, as we remember that today is also the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima and the bright light and dark cloud of that day.  Institutions also experience this quick movement.   As we prepare to celebrate the 175^th anniversary of Christ Church this fall, we might like to think that we are celebrating 175 years of successful, growing ministry in Hudson, but the history of the parish tells a different story.  From the very beginning in 1842, the history of Christ Church has been one of success and growth, followed by having the rug pulled out from underneath, sometimes due to external factors like the local or national economy, and sometimes caused by poor decisions on the part of the parish.  The story of Christ Church is one of faithful perseverance and tenacity, bearing witness to a light more powerful than the darkness of the time.   

The story of the transfiguration calls us to bear witness to the light that is more powerful than the terror of darkness.  The lesson from 2 Peter reminds us of the transfiguration of Jesus and then says “You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.”  We may not have a mountain top experience where we hear the voice of God directly, or be physically transformed while at prayer.  But Transfiguration can also happen when we bear witness to the light of Christ, shining in dark places.   Transfiguration happens when we seek and serve Christ in all people, particularly those in whom the Christ light seems dim.  Transfiguration happens when we strive for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being, particularly those with who are different from ourselves.  Transfiguration happens when others can see the brightness of Jesus through our words and deeds.  In other words, Transfiguration can happen when we live out the promises we make in baptism, when we live into what we love about this church.  The Transfiguration calls us to be the people we claim to be.

                                                                             Amen.