Success

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
March 28, 2021

Palm Sunday 

          A pandemic definitely challenges our notion of success.  Many of us practice what we do in a way so different from before the pandemic that measuring success has become quite relative.  In the church world, measures like Sunday attendance, number of people are involved in various activities or ministries, and ways we connect with the community have been replaced by questions about how adaptable a congregation is, what has been done differently, what new ways have we found to serve others, and how we define our community when everything we do is online.  I imagine this is true in many other vocations, from teaching to parenting, to the practice of medicine, real estate, or owning and running a business, and on and on.  When it comes to the last 12 months, many of the standards by which we measure success have changed.

          Palm Sunday also turns our notions of success upside down.  The people gathered as Jesus made his way into Jerusalem can taste the words of the psalmist this morning.  “Hosanna, Lord, hosanna!  Lord send us now success!”  Clearly the people expect success as they spread their cloaks on the road and others spread leafy branches they have cut from the fields.  I can see rejoicing and dancing in the streets as the people sing “Hosanna” and proclaim Jesus as the one who comes in the name of the Lord and the coming kingdom of their ancestor David.  Some kind of success is close at hand.  Can a band of people armed with leafy branches following their leader on a colt really expect to bring in the mighty kingdom of David?  And yet Jesus has fed thousands of people with a small bit of bread and fish.  He has cured the sick and calmed the water.  So are the people’s expectations really unreasonable?  And yet, on this same Sunday, anticipation and excitement turn to shock and sorrow as we move from the triumphant entry into Jerusalem to the cross.  What happened to “Hosanna, Lord, Hosanna.  Send us now success?”  What is success?

          In all of our Palm Sunday scripture readings, God is the primary actor, not humans.  In addition to “Hosanna Lord, hosanna.  Lord send us now success,” we also hear the psalmist say “This is the Lord’s doing…on this day the Lord has acted.  God is the Lord; he has shined upon us.”  God is the one acting in this psalm, not the psalmist.  In the reading from Isaiah, which is one of the Suffering Servant passages, God has given the servant the tongue of a teacher.  God has opened the servant’s ear.  God helps the servant.  God is working through the Suffering Servant and any credit for the endurance of the Suffering Servant belongs to God. In the reading from Philippians, Jesus emptied himself, humbled himself, and became obedient even though he was in the form of God so God could work through him. 

          Palm Sunday reminds us that God’s measure of success is not what we accomplish by ourselves but how well we come alongside whatever God is doing and allow ourselves to be used as part of God’s activity in the world.  We are challenged to come alongside God in whatever our vocations might be, whatever the circumstances of our lives might be, watching and listening for how we can be part of what God is doing in the world.  We are challenged to come alongside God in the shouts of praise on Palm Sunday, in the tenderness of the Maundy Thursday meal and the betrayal in the garden, in the horror of Good Friday, and in the bewildered joy of Easter morning, watching and listening for how we can be part of what God is doing in the world.    Hosanna, Lord, hosanna.  Lord send us now success.

                                                                                                Amen.

         

Seeing Jesus

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
March 21, 2021

5 Lent B 

          One of the most meaningful pieces of Lent for me is our Lenten Reflection Booklet.  For those of you who are visiting Christ Church today, either on Zoom or Facebook Live, our Lenten Reflection booklet contains one reflection for each day in Lent written by a parishioner or friend of Christ Church.  This year’s reflections seem particularly honest and rich and I believe we have experienced something of Jesus in each of the offerings.  Each of the people who wrote put something of themselves into their writing, an act that requires courage and trust, and the booklet has been received with great love.  The booklet is evidence of the deep way that we can encounter one another even when we are physically separated, and I might say especially when we are separated.  Add to the reflections themselves, the effort parishioners put into delivering the booklets, along with Ash Wednesday ashes, to every household in the congregation.  The whole process of bringing the reflection booklets from an idea that we really were not sure we could pull off this year to a reality in our hands has grounded and connected us to each other and God in both the liturgical wilderness of Lent and the very real wilderness of Covid-19. 

          This morning, some Greeks approach Philip and say “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”  Philip tells Andrew, then the two disciples tell Jesus.  Jesus’ reply has always struck me as a little odd if not downright rude.  Rather than give a direct answer to the Greeks, Jesus goes on about a grain of wheat falling to the earth, losing and gaining life, and serving and following Jesus.  A simple “yes” or “no” would have sufficed.

          Rather than being rude, however, I think Jesus may be doing the Jesus version of “Be careful what you ask for.”  When we ask to see a doctor, for example, or this time of year, an accountant, we do not just want to look at a medical or tax professional.  We need something from that person.  We trust that person to provide what we need.  We want a real and honest encounter.  I believe that is what the Greeks wanted in their request to see Jesus.  What Jesus wants the Greeks to know is that seeing Jesus in that real and honest sense comes at a cost. 

First, the Greeks will be encountering someone who will soon fall to the earth and die, in order to bear much fruit.  While the bit about the seed may be common agricultural sense, Jesus is also reminding the disciples to whom he is speaking that all of the fruit will be connected.  When the seed falls to the ground, that seed reconnects with all of creation, and when the seed finally bears much fruit, all of the fruit is connected through its relationship to the seed.  Through our connection with Jesus, we are connected with all humankind. 

Secondly, those who love their life so much as to put up boundaries around it, guard it and protect it from any challenge will inevitably lose their lives.  Those who are willing to give their lives unreservedly in service to others and God will live into eternal life.  Encountering Jesus means encountering the one who models the giving of one’s life.  And thirdly, whoever serves Jesus must follow him and where Jesus is going is to give up his life for the life and love of the world. 

          So, if the Greeks really want to see Jesus in a real and honest way, they need to know what they are getting into.  And what they are getting into is living as people who are organically connected with God and the whole human family, being willing to die to self to bear much fruit, and being willing to follow Jesus as he is raised from the earth and draws the whole world to himself.

          Sir, we wish to see Jesus.  This week, our country experienced yet another violent hate crime, this time committed primarily against Asian Americans, sending waves of terror through the Asian American community.  This act of hatred follows a year of threats and violence against Asian Americans, unjustly blaming the current pandemic on them.  Asian restaurants have received hate calls with threatening messages, even here in the Cleveland area, which is rich with ethnic diversity.  When we say “Sir, we wish to see Jesus” and only see Jesus in people who look and act like we do, we are not looking at Jesus.  When we say “Sir, we wish to see Jesus” and do not see the whole human family connected through both creation and the death and resurrection of Jesus, we are not looking at Jesus.  When we say “Sir, we wish to see Jesus” and do not rise up to claim our connection with the marginalized, the vulnerable, and those without power, we are not looking at Jesus.  As long as we think in terms of “us” and “them” whoever us and them may be, we do not really want to see Jesus.

          Jesus reminds us this morning that seeing Jesus means seeing Jesus serving Jesus, and following Jesus, not just when Jesus goes places where we are comfortable and feel safe, but when Jesus goes where the reconciling love of God is needed.  We practice seeing, serving, and following Jesus here at Christ Church, which is an incredible blessing but not an end in itself.  Practicing here gives us the courage and the ability t0 see, serve and follow Jesus at all times, in all places, and with all people.  Tolerating bigotry and hatred is not an option for followers of Jesus.  The only option for those who want to see and follow Jesus, is love.

                                                                                      Amen.

Faithful

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
March 14, 2021

4 Lent B 

          Robin Williams, the late actor and comedian, listed “no snake handling” as number 10 among his top 10 reasons to be an Episcopalian.  His list includes things like believing in dinosaurs, all of the pageantry-none of the guilt, a color coded church year and pew aerobics.  However, despite the comedian’s assertion that there is no snake handling in the Episcopal Church, today we must handle some snakes, scripturally if not literally, since the reading from Numbers is full of snakes, and in the gospel reading Jesus compares himself with one. 

The story from Numbers is a bit of a challenge.  First, the snakes.  This morning’s story is hardly the first time the people have complained against God.  The psalms are full of complaints against God.  The book of Lamentations is a whole book of, well, lamentations.  And this morning’s occasion of complaint is not the first time the people have complained in the wilderness.  Very early in their travels in the wilderness, the people complained that the water they had to drink was so bitter that they could not drink it.  So God showed Moses a piece of wood he could throw in the water and make the water sweet to drink.  Just ½ chapter later in the book of Exodus, the people complain to Moses that he has brought them out of Egypt, where at least they had food to eat, into the wilderness to starve to death.  So, God gave them manna, bread from heaven, to satisfy their hunger.   One chapter later, the people are thirsty again, and again accuse Moses of bringing them out of Egypt to kill them with thirst.  And again, God provided the people with water, this time by telling Moses to strike a rock with his staff and water will come from the rock so the people can drink.  Not long before our passage this morning, the people complain exceedingly about their lack of meat in the wilderness, and God does send a wind that brings them quails, but God also sends a plague along with the quails, so that doesn’t work out quite so well for the people.  But for the most part, God has been exceedingly patient with the complaints of the Hebrew people.  Until now.  This morning when the people grumble against God and Moses, God sends poisonous serpents to bite the people and kill them.  I would really like to know what has sent God over the edge this morning, so I can modify my own complaints accordingly.

          Secondly, what exactly is it about looking at a bronze serpent that has anti-venom properties?  If, indeed, God has sent poisonous snakes with a venom strong enough to kill people when they are bitten, simply looking at a bronze snake on a stick is not going to effect a cure.  Plus, just last week, we heard the 10 commandments from the book of Exodus, and one of the commandments clearly prohibits the making of idols.  A bronze snake on a stick with healing powers seems a lot like an idol.  So how are the people cured?

          These are questions which may not have satisfactory answers.  But what we do know, is that in the wilderness, the Hebrew people are forced to deal with their dependence on God for food, water, safety, and yes, for deliverance from poisonous snakes.  Every single time, even in this instance with the snakes, God comes through.  In the wilderness, the people learn that they can trust God, even when God’s patience is sorely tested because of their lack of trust.  The bronze serpent alone likely does nothing for the people. The serpent does not heal them.  Idols have no real power.  But when the people see the serpent raised on the pole, God’s intent is for them to know of God’s healing power and trust that God will save them, which God does.  God has taken a symbol of death, the snake, and turned it into a promise of God’s gift of life.  The people learn, yet again, that God is faithful and will save them.  We hear the words of the psalmist this morning, when just after describing the people’s rebellion in the wilderness, the psalmist writes “Let them give thanks to the Lord for his mercy and the wonders he does for his children. Let them offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving and tell of his acts with shouts of joy.”  God is faithful.

Jesus alludes to the story from Numbers when we hear him say “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”  The cross on which Jesus will be lifted is also an agent of death, a cruel, humiliating death.  And yet, the love of God will take that agent of death and transform the cross into an agent of life through which the whole world can be saved.  When we look at the empty cross on Easter morning, and at any other time, we can know and trust God’s love and healing power-the power that transforms death into eternal life. 

          In our own wildernesses, whether a Lenten wilderness, or the pandemic wilderness, or whatever our wilderness may be, we are forced to deal with our dependence on God for endurance, comfort, healing, or other relief.  God’s answer may not seem merciful at first, because what we want, of course, is to exit the wilderness about which we may have complained without ceasing.  But the message of Scripture is not that if we complain, God will send poisonous snakes to kill us.  The overwhelming message of scripture is that that God’s heart’s desire is to move us from rebellion to obedience, from fear to faith, and from death to life.  And God is faithful.

                                                                             Amen.

Outrageous

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
February 28, 2021

2 Lent B 

          One of my favorite worship services is our Ash Wednesday service for the families with young children.  We set up a table to use as an altar and gather chairs around so the children can be up close and see.  On the table, there are candles, water, rocks, and various other items to help the children connect with Ash Wednesday.  I often start by asking the children who takes a packed lunch to school and who buys their lunch….the last time we had this service all the children were in school for lunch every day.  I ask those who pack how they can tell their lunches apart.  Surely there are duplicate lunch boxes or lunch sacks that look alike.  How do they know which one is theirs?  Some of the children will look at me as if they are wondering how someone who does not know the answer to this question could possibly have credentials as a grown up.  But eventually one or more of the children will patiently respond that they have their name on their lunch and that is how they know which lunch is theirs.

          Having established that fact, we move on to baptism.  Who remembers their baptism?  Typically none of the children remember, but they might remember a sibling’s baptism or one that they have seen.  So I ask “what happens after I pour the water over the baby’s head?”  One of the children will remember that I used oil and made a cross on the baby’s forehead.  “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.”  That cross, I tell the children, is like having Jesus’ name written on us to show us how, as Christians, we belong to God.

          On Ash Wednesday, then, we again have a cross marked on our foreheads, this time with ashes, to remind us every year that we are made in the image of God and sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever.  For Christians, the cross is the symbol of the death and resurrection of Jesus, through which we are made God’s own in the waters of baptism.

          This morning, we hear Jesus say “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”  We can easily think that Jesus is calling us to hoist all of our burdens onto our shoulders and trudge off underneath their weight, trying to keep up with Jesus.  But I do not believe that is what Jesus is asking of us.  In the gospel of Matthew, Jesus says “‘Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”  Jesus spends his ministry healing and feeding people, liberating people from all kinds of bondage and heavy burdens.  So what else might Jesus mean when he calls people to pick up their cross and follow him?

Jesus has just begun to teach his disciples that “the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.”  Peter takes great offense against this teaching because Peter only hears the part he understands, which is the part about suffering, rejection, and death.  He does not hear the part about “and after three days rise again” because he has no way of knowing what that means.  Once the disciples follow Jesus to the cross on Good Friday and experience the empty tomb on Easter morning, then they will understand the fullness of Jesus’ words this morning.

          To pick up the cross of Christ is to hear not only of the suffering, rejection, and death, of Jesus but also to hear and believe God’s outrageous promise that suffering, rejection and death will not have the last word.  The last word is that after three days, Jesus will rise again.  We hear of another outrageous promise in the reading from Genesis this morning when God promises Abram that, even though he is advanced years and has no children, he will be the ancestor of a multitude of nations.  God will give Abraham a son with his wife Sarah and through that son, Abraham will come to have descendants that number the stars in the sky.  Abraham was 99 years old.  Sarah was 90.  God’s promise is not only outrageous.  That promise was also ridiculous.  Isaac is the child of God’s outrageous promise to Abraham and Sarah.

          To believe in the outrageous promise of God that suffering and death do not have the final word does not diminish the weight of whatever burdens we have to carry, whether individually or collectively.  Sickness and grief, broken relationships, economic challenges, fear of the unknown, and life in the midst of a pandemic are all heavy burdens.  But to follow Jesus does not mean having to pick up all that weighs us down and try to walk.  To pick up the cross and follow Jesus is to believe the outrageous promise that, despite all appearances, our burdens do not have the final word.  To pick up the cross and follow Jesus is to hear the whole story from the cross to the grave to the empty tomb and live as people who believe that the final word, even for the heaviest of burdens, belongs to love and life. 

                                                                             Amen.

Reminders

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
February 21, 2021

1 Lent B 

          My sister was iced in at her home in northern Virginia last week, so she spent some time going through old family photos.  She texted a particularly unflattering one of me when I was about 9 years old that had our grandmother in the background, and our great-grandmother barely visible behind her.  Our father did an excellent job of creating photo albums of our family when my brother, sister, and I were growing up and this photo was from one of those collections.  When Dad died, we found that actually only a fraction of the photos he took made it into the albums.  There were drawers, boxes, and envelopes stuffed with photos from decades ago.  We have always treasured those photos, but now that so many of the people in the pictures are gone, we treasure them all the more.  The photos are a way to remember those who have gone before us, the wonderful times we had, the love we experienced, and to pass all of that down to our children and grandchildren.  What we remember, we can pass along to future generations. 

          So when I read our scripture passages for this morning, I had been thinking about the way we remember important people and events through stories and photos.  Our lovely reading from Genesis about God’s covenant with every living creature is sandwiched between the story of the flood and the destruction of all human, animal, and plant life not on the ark, and a story about Noah and his sons and grandsons that is best left out of a G-rated sermon.  I have always thought that God set the rainbow in the sky to remind we humans of God’s promise that never again will God cause a flood to destroy all flesh.  But listen to what God says in this passage: “When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh….when the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.” 

          The rainbow, according to this passage, is created to remind God of God’s covenant with humankind!  When God sees the rainbow, God is reminded of the anger at humankind that caused the flood, of God’s promise never to do that again, and of God’s love for all that God created.  The rainbow is both an image and a story that promises us that God will never forget the wilderness of the flood.  God will always remember God’s compassion and love.  God wants to remember the whole story including God’s promise to all living creatures so God set the rainbow in the sky as a reminder.  To God.

           In the context of God’s desire to remember God’s covenant, rooted in God’s compassion and love, which we heard about in the psalm a few minutes ago, we hear the story of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness this morning.  We hear this story every year on the first Sunday of Lent as we begin our journey in the Lenten wilderness.  Mark does not give us a lot of details about Jesus’ time in the wilderness.  Matthew and Luke later fill in those gaps.  But Mark tells us so little, that everything Mark does say is important.

          What does Mark tell us?  First, after Jesus has been baptized, we hear the voice of God say “this is my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased.”  God claims Jesus as God’s own son and since there is no birth story in Mark’s gospel, this is the first story in which we hear of the unique relationship between God and Jesus.  Jesus is God’s beloved.

          The very next thing we hear is that immediately the Spirit drove Jesus into the wilderness.  The Spirit did not lead Jesus to the wilderness, nor did the Spirit call Jesus there.  The Spirit drove Jesus there.  We are not told why Jesus was driven to the wilderness.  But we do know that Jesus is not in the wilderness because he has done anything wrong or made God angry.  There has been no time for that.  Immediately after hearing that Jesus is God’s beloved Son, he is driven to the wilderness.  Perhaps Jesus is driven to the wilderness to figure out what God means.

Then we are told that Jesus was tempted by Satan, and was with the wild beasts, and angels waited on him.  The wild beasts remind us of Isaiah’s vision of the peaceable kingdom in Isaiah 65: “The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox; but the serpent—its food shall be dust! They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the Lord.”  Even in the midst of the wilderness, there is evidence that the Kingdom of God has arrived.  And in 1 Kings (19) an angel of the Lord waits on Elijah, providing Elijah with food and water that gave Elijah strength for the 40 days and 40 nights it took Elijah to get to Mt. Horeb.  Even in the midst of the wilderness, where Jesus is tempted by Satan, God’s love and compassion are evident.  Jesus learned in the wilderness that he could trust that love to sustain him through all that was ahead.

          We enter our Lenten wilderness where we deny ourselves certain pleasures or take up certain disciplines, as Robin told us on Ash Wednesday, not as punishment for our sins, but to learn to trust in God rather than ourselves, our possessions, or our appetites to bring us wholeness.  We enter the wilderness of Lent knowing that God has promised to always remember God’s great love for us, and that there will be signs of the Kingdom of God in the wilderness, our own versions of wild beasts and angels, if we open our eyes, ears, and hearts and look.  This particular Lent, as we also live in the Covid wilderness and wildernesses of illness and other great challenges, we can draw on the strength of the Lenten wilderness that knows the promise of God.  We know how to do wilderness because we do wilderness every year.  We survive, perhaps even thrive, in the wilderness because we have the stories that tell us of our God who is determined to remember God’s covenant with us, stories that remind us of God’s love and compassion for us, and stories that call us to open our eyes, ears, and hearts to see that whatever the wilderness, whatever temptations we face, we are not there alone. 

                                                                             Amen.

Rear View Mirror

 

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
February 14, 2021

Last Epiphany B 

          My Facebook feed is currently filled with posts from one year ago.  Friends are posting photos of the last time they ate out, the last vacation they took, the last visit with loved ones, or what they did last Valentine’s Day, all unmasked and definitely not physically distant!  For those who are not on Facebook, the social media platform allows users to share or post photos, thoughts, recipes, articles, and other such things with their friends.  Personally, I am there for the baby pictures, both the ones I post and the ones my friends post!  But right now, as we approach the one-year anniversary of Covid quarantine, many of the posts are a longing look in the rear-view mirror at the last things we did before Covid took over our lives.

          This Sunday, the last Sunday before Ash Wednesday, is one of my favorite Sundays of the whole year.  Normally, we sing the great Alleluia hymns loudly and with gusto.  At the end of the service, we bury colorful alleluias in a tomb in front of the altar where they will rest until Easter.  We create a little liturgical mountain top experience to sustain us through the upcoming season of Lent, until the joy and wonder of Easter morning.  Because this year is the same but different, we have changed things up a bit. We have thrown in a little Mardi Gras and have the wonderful music of Jenny Walvoord and Drew Le this morning.  But the idea is the same-we create a mini-mountain top experience to sustain us through the Lenten wilderness ahead.

          In a time when many Covid restrictions are still in place, the challenge of obtaining a vaccine is almost overwhelming for those who are actually eligible, and we’re hitting a wall with quarantine, Lent, a season of denial and self-discipline, may be the last thing we want to think about.  We long for moments of human connection and we look at the past with a fondness we never realized we had until now.  What wisdom and nourishment for the Lenten journey can we find in the story of Jesus’ transfiguration?

          This morning, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a high mountain, apart, by themselves, where Jesus is transfigured before the disciples’ very eyes and Jesus is joined by Moses and Elijah.  The disciples are terrified, yet at the same time, they want to stay on the mountain top.   In the midst of their terror, they hear a voice, the same voice that spoke at Jesus’ baptism, say “This is my Son, the Beloved.  Listen to him.”

          “Listen to him.”  What are the disciples supposed to hear? The last thing Jesus said in Mark’s gospel, before taking Peter, James, and John up the mountain, was that “that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.” Then Jesus went on to say to the disciples “‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”   The disciples follow Jesus down the mountain and meet up with the rest of the disciples to continue Jesus’ work of teaching and healing and ushering in the Kingdom of God, which eventually leads them to Jerusalem, the crucifixion, and the resurrection just as Jesus told them.

          “Listen to him.”  What are we to hear?  What Jesus says with his words and with his actions is that following Jesus is about following Jesus, who goes first and leads us through, not around obstacles.  Following Jesus means following Jesus, pointing to the Kingdom of God in our midst with our words and actions, rather than pointing to ourselves, and living for the sake of the gospel.  Or as Paul says in the reading from 2 Corinthians this morning “For we do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.”   Jesus’ promise is that wherever we follow him, whether into the wilderness of Covid or into wilderness of Lent, or anywhere else, he goes first to show us the way and to help us see the Kingdom of God growing in our midst.  But in order to follow Jesus, we have to watch where he goes, listen to what he says, and go where he goes.

          On the mountain top, Peter, James and John experienced the glory of God in Jesus.  As they followed Jesus down the mountain and into all that the future held for them, I am sure the three disciples checked the rear-view mirror from time to time, looking back wistfully to that amazing experience, trying to figure out just what happened and perhaps even how to make it happen again.  But that mountain top experience was not intended to call them backwards to repeat former experiences, but to help them see God’s glory in the present, whatever the present held. 

          The story of Jesus’ transfiguration shows us the glory of God, not so that we can look backwards, but so that we know what we are looking for when we look forward.  Jesus leads the disciples down from the mountain to do the work of ushering in the Kingdom of God, pointing to the glory of God at work as Jesus goes about teaching and healing, and finally in the crucifixion and resurrection.  We follow Jesus into the wilderness of Lent, and any other wilderness in which we find ourselves, not with our breath held until Easter, but with our eyes wide open, knowing that if we follow Jesus, we will see God.  Rather than feeling like we’re looking at the mountain top through the rear view mirror these days, metaphorically and literally, the transfiguration of Jesus calls us down the mountain to see where in the wilderness the Kingdom of God is blooming and to experience the glory of God in our midst. 

                                                                             Amen.

         

Control

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
January 31, 2021

 

4 Epiphany B 

          Last Sunday, I told you a little bit about the Learning from London course I took in 2019.  In that class, I spent 8 days experiencing a vast array of church settings in London and learned how each was connecting with its community.  In addition to visiting churches, we spent a morning at the Gregory Centre for Church Multiplication, an arm of the Church of England.  The Gregory Centre for Church Multiplication, or CCX as the organization is called, is tasked with founding 50 new churches over the next 25 years.  They believe that every church is intended to multiply and that the work of the church is to reach new people in new ways.  One of the most startling things I heard that day was that churches are programmed for either control or growth.  I have thought about that comment many times since then as we work to grow Christ Church by reaching new people in new ways.  Are we programmed for control or for growth?

          Last week, we also heard Jesus utter the first words of his ministry.  “The Kingdom of God has arrived.  Repent and believe the Good News.”  With those words, Jesus gives us his mission which is to show people that the Kingdom of God has arrived and invite them to experience that Kingdom through repentance and belief in the Good News.  This morning, Jesus and his freshly minted disciples enter the synagogue at Capernaum to worship on the Sabbath.  The synagogue was no doubt a place of comfort and stability for the worshippers; a place where they experienced the love of God through each other and a place where they learned about the law and the prophets and how to live as God’s faithful people.  Jesus was clearly a gifted teacher, and the people were astounded at what he had to say.  But we are not told what Jesus said because Mark’s gospel tends to be more concerned with what Jesus did than what he said.  And what Jesus did was to cast an unclean spirit out of a man, which astonished the people even more than did Jesus’ teaching.

          This is Jesus’ first action after announcing that the Kingdom of God has arrived, and Jesus uses his actions in Mark’s gospel to show us what the Kingdom of God looks like.  What does this story teach us about the Kingdom of God?

          First, included among those in the synagogue was a man with an unclean spirit.  Whatever we might think that actually means in the 21^st century, it surely meant that the synagogue, and the Kingdom of God, includes all sorts and conditions of people.  There were no barriers around the synagogue to keep the man out, nor are there barriers around the Kingdom of God to keep people out.  If we think of a faith community as only including those who are considered “pure” then we are ignoring what Jesus has to say about the Kingdom of God.  The Kingdom of God is open to everyone, no exceptions.

          Secondly, the work of the Kingdom of God is about healing, which is really about liberation.   Jesus healed the man with the unclean spirit, and Jesus will heal the woman with the flow of blood, and raise Jairus’s daughter from the dead, and on and on, liberating people from bondage to all that holds them captive.  Ultimately, the death and resurrection of Jesus will set humankind free from bondage to sin and death.  The Kingdom of God is about liberation.

          Thirdly, the unclean spirit recognized Jesus as the Holy One of God before any of the worshippers did, and before the disciples did for that matter.  The unclean spirit recognized in Jesus the power to destroy unclean spirits, and the unclean spirit was correct.  In the Kingdom of God, the Holy One of God is recognized by the least likely people found in the least likely places.  We do not learn about the Kingdom of God and the power of Jesus only by listening to each other.  We can learn much if we listen to unlikely voices and look in unlikely places. 

Radical inclusion, liberation, and deep listening are all three about letting go of control and letting the Kingdom of God grow in our midst.  All three reflect a willingness to change and do things in new ways, and an openness to seeing the Kingdom of God at work in ways beyond our imagination.  Christ Church can be a place of a place of comfort and stability; a place where we experience the love of God through each other and a place where we learn how to live as God’s faithful people AND be a place where we find new ways to reach new people with the transforming, liberating love of God that we cannot control. 

Mark’s gospel does not tell us how the synagogue or the people in the synagogue that sabbath were changed by the presence of Jesus, other than that they were amazed and astounded.  But how they were changed is not the point.  The point is how we can be changed.  In our reflection on our time at the Centre for Church Multiplication, I wondered aloud if a church that was once programmed for control could be reprogrammed for growth or if the DNA of a church was unchangeable.  The answer was that typically a catastrophic event is required to effect that kind of change in the DNA of a congregation.  Christ Church has weathered catastrophic events in the past, and from what I understand, each time has emerged more programmed for growth.  The pandemic is another such catastrophic event and in the summer or fall, we will begin to rebuild our life together.  In the midst of this current challenge, I believe God calls us to prayerfully consider how we can become ever more a place that lives out the radical inclusion, liberation, and deep listening of the Kingdom of God, living out a love we cannot control.                                                                                   

                                                                  Amen.