Ruins

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
March 26, 2023

5 Lent A 

          The ruins of Fountains Abbey are a short drive from York in England. The Abbey was founded in the 12^th century as a more austere offshoot of the Benedictine order.  The monastery was dissolved by King Henry the 8th in the 16th century and the buildings were vandalized for the stone, leaving just a shell of the Abbey’s former glory.  Centuries later, the ruins are quiet and peaceful, with the soaring walls and tower remaining of what was once a very large and awe-inspiring chapel, along with what is left of the buildings where the monks lived and worked.  I love walking in the midst of such ruins, where I feel both God’s presence as well as the presence of those whose deep faith led them to give up everything to live and worship there. 

          The ruins of Fountains Abbey could not be more different from the ruins Ezekiel describes this morning.  Those ruins are more like the ruins of the three towns in Mississippi that were completely wiped out by a tornado Friday night, leaving nothing but death and destruction behind, or the hurricane ravaged towns and cities along the Atlantic coast, the utter devastation in Japan following the tsunami in 2011, the destruction of 9/11, or the earthquake in Turkey and Syria this past February.   Those ruins lead us to ask God’s very question: “Mortal, can these bones live?”

          The reading from Ezekiel seems like an odd choice for the 5^th Sunday of Lent, especially when paired with the story of the raising of Lazarus in John’s gospel. Both are stores of resurrection and new life and we are not even to Holy Week yet.  And both stories have some very curious features.  When God asks “Mortal, can these bones live,” I imagine God is already quite clear on the answer to that.  But God requires Ezekiel to answer the question with a statement of faith “O Lord God, you know.”  God then commands Ezekiel to prophesy and when he does, the bones come together, bone to bone.  We can almost hear the bones rattling as they take on flesh and skin.   But why did Ezekiel need to prophecy for the bones to come together?  Could not the God who parted the Red Sea put the bones back together without Ezekiel’s help?  Then God commands Ezekiel to prophecy again so that breath comes into the bones, and the bones lived and stood on their feet, a vast multitude.

          Ezekiel is writing to a people who feel like their very bones have dried up.  The Hebrew people are in exile in Babylon and the promised land has been destroyed by the Babylonians.  God tells the prophet that the bones are the whole house of Israel and commands Ezekiel to prophesy that God will put God’s spirit within the people and bring them back to the promised land.  Through Ezekiel’s prophecy, the people will know that God has spoken and will act.  Ezekiel’s words will bring hope and comfort to a people living in spiritual and physical ruins.  God has acted before, and God will act again.

          The story of the raising of Lazarus is also curious.  When Mary and Martha send word to Jesus that their brother is ill, Jesus is clear that Lazarus’ illness and death are for God’s glory.  If Jesus is so confident in God’s glory, then why does Jesus weep at the tomb?  And why is Jesus so disturbed when he gets to the tomb?  Jesus knows that he is about to reveal the glory of God.  When Jesus cries with a loud voice “Lazarus come out,” much to the surprise of all, Lazarus walks out of the tomb, his hands and feet bound. 

Then Jesus says “Unbind him and let him go.”  Jesus has just commanded a dead man back to life.  One would think that a command from Jesus could also deal with the wrappings.  But Jesus’ command is for those around him to finish the work Jesus began.

          These stories have at least two things in common.  First, the dead are brought back to life.  Secondly, in both cases, God works through human agency.  God works through Ezekiel’s prophecy when we know perfectly well that God is capable of doing that work alone.  Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead, but commands those around him to unbind Lazarus and let him go.

          In the midst of devastation and destruction, whether caused by humans or by nature, God calls us not just to proclaim what God is doing, but to join God in the work of new life.  God calls us to proclaim life in the midst of death and to take action, to unbind those who are bound and let them go.  God calls us to see with God’s eyes and be agents of life in the many valleys of dry bones where war, natural disasters, illness, poverty, or death seem to have won.   As we enter Holy Week next Sunday and walk through the events of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, journeying right smack through the valley of the shadow of death, God calls us to see the powerful work God is doing, to recognize where we are complicit with the forces of death and turn and be agents of resurrection life.  Like Ezekiel and like those who unbind Lazarus, we have holy work to do as God’s agents of life and love.

                                                                             Amen.

Water

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
March 12, 2023

3 Lent A

          In the first 20 years Don and I were married, we lived in 9 different places.  Some of the moves were local as we moved from a rental house to one we bought.  Some moves were to a new state.  Sometimes movers packed and moved us and sometimes the move was a do it yourself operation with the help of family and friends.  Some moves were before we had our kids and others were moves with kids.  Leaving some places was harder than leaving others but in each case we were excited about what lay ahead in our new location.

          Because we moved so much in those early years, any romantic notion I might have about moving was lost by at least the third move if not the second.  Even under the best of circumstances, moving is hard work, exhausting emotionally and physically, stressful-especially with children, and expensive even when someone else is paying for the move.  So, I have a good bit of compassion for the Hebrew people this morning when they find themselves on the move through the wilderness to a new home.  They are tired, thirsty, and very grumpy.  They left Egypt on a moment’s notice with almost no time to pack.  Any food they took with them had either been eaten or had spoiled.  Just a chapter ago in Exodus, God had provided manna for them in the wilderness so they are not starving, but the shelf life of manna is very short.  Who knows whether God will continue to provide for them?  The people are worried for their children and themselves as the time in the wilderness seems to stretch on forever and the people don’t even really know where they are going. 

          The lack of water is a serious problem.  Human beings die without water.  The people are not just whining when they say “Why did you bring us out of Egypt to kill us and our children and our livestock with thirst?”  The people are stating a desperate fact.   Without water they will die.  They will never get to the Promised Land.  God’s mighty act in delivering them from Egypt will be wasted.  What is Moses going to do about that?  Is the Lord among them or not?

          Jesus is also thirsty this morning, as is the Samaritan woman who comes to draw water at the well.  There is no indication in the story that either of the two ever get a literal drink of water, and they are also in a climate that can quickly dehydrate the human body.  When Jesus offers the woman living water, she assumes he means literal water when she says “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here again.”

          But Jesus is talking about living water that quenches an even deeper thirst.  Jesus is offering the water that quenches the thirst for life, for a depth and richness of life that is satisfied by the Source of life itself.  Jesus uses the body’s thirst for water to talk with the Samaritan woman about the soul’s thirst for eternal life.  The Samaritan woman is so moved by the conversation that she runs back to the city and invites everyone she sees to come and meet Jesus.

          Unlike Jesus and the Samaritan woman, the Hebrew people do get their drink of water, but like the Samaritan woman, they get even more.  They get some proof that the Lord really is among them, that the Lord is the source of their life.  While they are reminded of their dependence on God in the wilderness, they are also reminded that God is worthy of that dependence and the trust that is required.  They are reminded that not only will God provide, but that God hears their cries in the wilderness just as God heard their cries when they were in Egypt.  They are reminded that their relationship with the God who brought them out of Egypt and now guides them in the wilderness will sustain them.

          The Samaritans invite Jesus to stay with them, and Jesus stays two days.  The Samaritans invited Jesus because of the Samaritan woman’s testimony but by the end of Jesus’ stay, they believe that Jesus is the Savior of the world because of their new-found relationship with him.  Perhaps when we hear these two stories together, the story of the Hebrew people in the wilderness and the story of the Samaritan woman, we learn that the water of life which we crave in the wilderness is the water of deep and sustaining relationships with God and with fellow travelers. Whether a physical wilderness like the Hebrews were in, or a wilderness of our own making, or an unfair and cruel wilderness, or even the wilderness of Lent, we learn that God hears our cries and sees our thirst and responds, often in ways we do not expect.  We learn to let God work through us the way God worked through Moses and the Samaritan woman to meet the thirst of others.  In the wilderness, we learn to trust the Psalmist’s words: “For he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand.”         

                                                                    Amen.

                                      

Strategy

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
March 5, 2023

2 Lent A 

Three years ago next week, we needed a completely new strategy.  When Covid hit, our lives as individuals and as a church were turned upside down.  As individuals, we needed new ways to get groceries, medical care, education and human contact.  We needed a new strategy as a church for worship, to stay connected, take care of each other, reach out to the community and do all the things we do as a church.  Most of our strategies and ways we had lived our lives did not work anymore, which was confusing and devastating.  Three years later, I look back on those weeks that stretched int0 months and even years and I am in awe of how far we have come.

          God needs a new strategy this morning.  In the first chapter of Genesis, God created humankind in God’s own image. In the second chapter, God created humankind from the dust of the earth and set us in a lovely garden.  Either way, humankind is created to be in relationship with God, each other, and creation. 

          But in Genesis Chapter 3, as we heard last week, Adam and Eve violated the one rule God gave them.  They ate the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil and they are evicted from the lovely garden.  This is not what God had in mind.  In chapter 4, Adam and Eve have two sons, Cain and Abel.  In the first act of extreme sibling rivalry, Cain kills Abel.  Again, not what God had in mind.  Then a genealogy takes us from Adam to Noah covering countless generations and thousands of years.  Next, the sons of God take wives from human women and bear children, which makes God sorry that God created humans in the first place, leading to the Great Flood.  Fortunately, Noah was righteous in God’s eyes, so God preserves humankind through this one family, along with one pair of each kind of animal.  After the flood, God makes a covenant with Noah, sealed with the rainbow, that God will never again use a flood to destroy all flesh.  The next bit of chapter 9 is not fit for a G-rated sermon, so you will have to read it for yourself, but suffice it to say that just a few paragraphs after the rainbow, God is rethinking that promise.  Chapter 10 gives us more genealogy which brings us to Chapter 11 and the tower of Babel which all the humans build so they can be united against God, so God confuses all the languages and scatters all the people.  Things have gone from bad to worse with God’s beloved humans, despite God’s best efforts.

          This morning we get God’s new strategy.  God is now going to focus on one family, the family of Abram.  We hear God call Abram to go from his country and his family to a land God will show him.  Then God makes a covenant with Abram in which God will make of Abram a great nation, bless Abram, and make Abram’s name great so that Abram will be a blessing through whom all the families of the earth shall be blessed.

          Has God lowered the bar?  Would harmony with just one family be easier for God and for the people?  That does seem reasonable.  When we bite off more than we can chew, common sense tells us to take a smaller bite.  But God is not taking a smaller bite.

          God is not abandoning anyone.  God is choosing one family, which will become a great nation, through whom to bless all the families of the earth.  This is not just a new strategy, but an incredible promise.  Other than when God tells Abram to “go,” and Abram goes, every other action word belongs to God.  Show, make, bless, bless again, curse….all will be God’s action.  The goal is not that the people will be 100% faithful all the time.  God knows that is highly unlikely and, in fact, the scriptures are brutally honest about the Hebrew people’s successes and failures at being faithful, the times they are hopeful and the times they lose hope, the times they understand their mission to all the families and the times they circle the wagons.  But God is going to be 100% faithful and the goal is that God will work through the people in good times and bad times to bless all the families of the earth. 

          In John’s gospel this morning, God expands the strategy.  The passage connects Jesus with Moses, a key figure in the story of God’s people, when Jesus says “And 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.”  Then we hear the beloved words of John 3:16 “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.  Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

          In Jesus, God has expanded the plan to bless all the families, all the people of the earth.  God still works to bless all the families through the descendants of Abram, and God works to bless all the families of the earth in a new way through Jesus and Jesus’ disciples.  The question this morning is not who does God love more, the Jews or Christians, as if we are siblings squabbling for the love and attention of the parent.  The question is not which of us is the true heir of Abram, the Jews or the Christians.  The answer to that question is “yes.”  The question is “what are we doing as people of God and followers of Jesus to be a blessing to all the families of the earth?” or at least the families of Hudson and Summit county?  Where is God calling us to go?  Three years ago, we came up with a new strategy to be a blessing by doing what we could, which was raise money to support those most affected by Covid.  We set audacious goals to raise money for the domestic violence shelter in Akron, for the futons needed for Family Promise to shelter the unhoused, for the Peter Maurin Center to serve those living on the streets and under bridges, for laptops for refugees and immigrants to learn English, and on and on.  But now we need another new strategy, a new way of being a blessing in this new world we live in, that connects us personally with those we serve.  Twenty or so of us gathered last Sunday as our Outreach Team to work on that exact question, and information about opportunities to be a blessing will be forthcoming, in addition to the opportunities we all have in our everyday lives.  The beloved words of John 3:16 come alive to the world around us when we are the blessing God calls us to be, showing the world the abundant and faithful love of God.

                                                                             Amen.

Wilderness

 Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
February 26, 2023

1 Lent A 

          Some 10 years ago, Slocomb, our eldest child, Don and I went to visit our younger son Caldwell in upstate New York.  Caldwell lived in Saratoga Springs and he had planned a variety of things for us to do while we were there.  One of the activities was a hike in a nearby state park.  This would be great, I thought. I love to walk, the weather was ideal, and this seemed like a perfect family outing. 

          To leap to the end of the story, I refer to this episode of our family life as Caldwell’s quest to be an orphan.  After the first hundred yards or so, which were deceptively flat, the hike was all uphill over a treacherous trail.  The temperature was hot and, while we had brought water bottles, there was nothing that even vaguely resembled indoor plumbing.  We finally got to the top, where there was indeed a magnificent view, but to get to the very top, some steep rocks had to be scaled.  I declined that opportunity and waited for the other three.  Coming down would have been even harder than going up, except that Don found a very sturdy stick for me to use, which made all the difference in the world.  The stick steadied my balance and gave me confidence.  But at every turn, I thought I saw the parking lot and my heart would leap for joy, only to be let down when there was no parking lot in sight.  We finally reached the car and I was hot, tired, maybe a bit cranky, and very relieved.  Three hours in the wilderness was more than enough to tax my body and my spirit. 

          Sometimes Lent seems a bit like that hike, with a clear entry point on Ash Wednesday and a clear exit on Easter, and a lot of challenges along the way.  Hopefully we will have a stick to steady us and give us confidence as we make our way over the wilderness terrain.  But the point is to survive the Lenten wilderness and escape at Easter.

          However, this understanding of Lent is not compatible with our readings this morning.  In the story from Genesis, God has put Adam in the garden to till it and to keep it.  The garden itself might have been a pleasant wilderness, but it was a wilderness.  Then God gives Adam some very clear instructions about what may and may not be eaten.  Adam is to trust God in the garden and learn what it means to be a creature of God.  Obedience is part of that trust.  And we know what happened next.  In short, after God creates Eve, the two eat from the fruit of the one forbidden tree and they realize they are naked.  The lectionary reading stops before we get to God’s response, but obviously God is not going to be happy with this turn of events.  God had said to Adam “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, you shall not eat.  For in the day that you eat of it, you shall die.”

          If we read further in chapter 3, we will hear God’s fury as he addresses first the serpent, then Eve, then Adam.  But Adam and Eve do not die that day and God certainly does not kill them.  In fact, after God finishes rebuking them, God makes garments of skin for Adam and Eve to replace the fig leaf clothing they had made for themselves.  And then God sends Adam and Eve forth from the garden to till the ground from which Adam was taken.  The picture of God that we get from the whole story is of a God who deeply loves the creatures God has made, even in the midst of their disobedience.  While God does send Adam and Eve out of the garden and into the deeper wilderness, God gives them what they need to survive there in an act of love and compassion and God never abandons them.

          In the wilderness, Jesus also learns what it means to belong to God.  John the Baptist was baptizing in the wilderness, so Jesus has gone from one wilderness to a deeper wilderness.  The last voice Jesus heard in the wilderness of his baptism was “This is my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”  The first voice Jesus hears in the wilderness of his temptation says “If you are the Son of God...” So, my hunch is that Jesus spent some time in that wilderness wrestling with what it means to be the Son of God.  What we learn from Jesus’ response to the three temptations is that whatever it means to be the Son of God, it does not mean using special powers, like the ability to turning stones into bread, or calling on special protection such as safety if he throws himself off the top of the temple, or abusing special privilege such as having all the kingdoms of the world.  When the devil departs, presumably in frustration, angels come and wait on Jesus.  Angels are literally messengers from God. 

          In both of these stories, and whenever God’s people find themselves in the depths of wilderness, they learn more about what it means to belong to God who will never abandon them.  Whether in the Garden this morning, or wandering in the wilderness for 40 years, or exile in Babylon, or in the wilderness of their return to the Promised Land, God is always present with God’s people.  Whether in the wilderness in which he was baptized, or the wilderness in which he was tempted, or throughout Jesus’ ministry, or the wilderness of the cross, God is always present with Jesus even when Jesus felt abandoned.      

We entered the Lenten wilderness on Ash Wednesday, and part of what we learn during Lent through the various disciplines we take on is how to live as people who belong to God who is always present with us.  Lent is not some sort of spiritual escape room, where the purpose is to enter, spend the designated time, and find a way out.  Lent is a wilderness we enter intentionally to discover God’s presence there.    The joy we will find on Easter morning is not the joy of escaping Lent, but the joy of discovering God even in the wilderness of the empty tomb.

                                                        Amen.

                                                                   

Hypocrite

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
February 22, 2023

Ash Wednesday

When I was in elementary school, each year every class got to put on a play for the rest of the school.  I don’t remember a lot of the plays, but I do remember how much fun it was to get to be someone else for a while.  One year, our class play was a Thanksgiving production and I got to be a pilgrim. I wore a pilgrim dress and tried to think pilgrim thoughts for weeks, so that I could really feel like a pilgrim.  Another year, when I was older, our class did a play that was a newscast and I got to be a reporter.  Reporters got to dress up, carry a clipboard and look very important.  Being in a play was sort of like Halloween, but even better because we had a chance to really live into being someone else.  And when we dressed and acted like someone else for a while, we could actually begin to feel like that person.

The word “hypocrite,” which Jesus uses three times in the gospel reading today, literally means to pretend to be someone he or she is not.  Often, in the middle ages, the word was actually used to refer to a stage actor.  But Jesus is talking about an imposter, not a stage actor.  Three times, Jesus tells us not to be like the hypocrites, pretending to be someone faithful with our actions when our thoughts are somewhere else.  Three times, Jesus challenges us to be honest before God and not use the actions of our faith to make others think well of us. 

Every Sunday, except during Lent, ironically, we pray the Collect for Purity at the beginning of our worship.  This collect is an ancient prayer that was originally said as the priest’s private prayer of preparation before celebrating the Eucharist.  “Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid.  Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you and worthily magnify your holy name, through Christ our Lord.”  This prayer that we pray each week reminds us that God sees us as we really are-we have no secrets from God-all the time, not just during Lent, and no matter what other person we pretend to be.  God knows our hearts-God knows if we are fasting so others will see our misery, giving alms so others will admire our generosity, or praying so that people will admire our faith. 

          In Lent, we are called by the church to a season of prayer, fasting, and self-denial-of which almsgiving can be a part-to deepen our relationship with God and to help us realize our dependence on God.  We are called to these actions because our actions do form our faith.  We practice faith just like we practice anything else we want to do well.  We are just reminded that the reason we practice is to deepen our relationship with God, not to make others think well of us.  Lent is a time to be intentional about practicing the actions of our faith, and to allow ourselves to be formed by those actions, so that we are not hypocrites-we are not trying to be someone we are not, but are working, practicing, to be more fully the people God created us to be.

In a minute, we will be invited to the observance of a holy Lent.  We will be called to practice the actions of our faith, whether deepening our prayer, fasting from things which draw us from God, or using our resources to help those in need.  We do these things not as an ends in themselves, and certainly not to draw attention to ourselves, but so that our faith can be shaped by these actions.  On Ash Wednesday, we allow ourselves to be marked with a cross of ashes as an action of our faith that reminds us to whom our lives belong.  We receive the bread and wine of the Eucharist as an action of our faith that reminds us from where our real nourishment comes. We take on certain disciplines or give up others to remember our dependence on God.  We are not pretending to be something we are not. We are working to be more fully the people God created us to be.

                                                                                           Amen.

Get Up!

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
February 19, 2023

Last Epiphany 

          Growing up, two mountains held special significance for me.  Both were thin places, places where earth and heaven seemed to meld into one.  The first was my grandparents’ place in the mountains of North Carolina at Kanuga, the Episcopal Camp and Conference Center.  As children and young adults, we could hike up the mountain to High Rocks and see for miles over the valley, or we could hike down the mountain, through the conference center, past a “no trespassing” sign, and sit by a stream that ran over rocks making the most glorious music.   Both were experiences of the glory of God.  The other mountain is in Arkansas.  The Episcopal camp sits on the side of a mountain and I spent many weekends and summers there. Camp Mitchell is where I first experienced the power of Christian community and where I learned that singing is, for me, the deepest form of prayer.  My experiences on those two mountains shaped my faith in more ways than I have words to express.

          We hear about two mountains this morning.  In the reading from Exodus, Moses is summoned up the mountain so God can give him the tablets of stone with the law and the commandment.  There is a good bit of waiting involved in the brief passage we hear this morning.  Moses is told to come up the mountain and wait for God to give him the tablets.  Moses says to the elders “wait here for us until we come to you again.”  Moses waits on the mountain, which is covered with the glory of God, for 6 days before God finally calls to Moses out of the cloud.  And the people wait for 40 days while it looks to all appearances like Moses is being devoured by fire on the mountain.  That’s lot of waiting!

          For those of us who prefer more immediate gratification, the gospel reading is much more satisfying.  We are told that “six days later” Jesus took Peter, James and John up a high mountain by themselves.  Six days after what?  Six days after Jesus asked the disciples “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” and Peter answers “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.”  Correct answer!  Six days after Jesus teaches the disciples that he must suffer, be killed, and on the third day rise again, and Peter strongly objects.  The messiah is not going to suffer and be killed!  Wrong answer and Jesus says “Get behind me Satan, you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

          So, after six days Peter is probably still smarting from being called Satan by Jesus.  But Jesus has apparently forgiven Peter, since he takes Peter along with James and John, up the mountain where Jesus is transfigured and Moses and Elijah show up for a chat. 

          Peter has taken a lot of grief for what comes next, perhaps because we can all too easily remember what Peter just got wrong rather than what he got right.  Peter offers to build three dwellings on the mountain-one for Jesus, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.  Some say that Peter wants to hold onto the moment forever and live in this thin place eternally.  We all know that’s not possible.  Some say that Peter is just speaking without thinking yet again.  Been there, done that!  Still others say that Peter is so overcome by the experience that he has no idea what to do but feels the need to do something.  We’ve all probably been there before, too.

However, I think something else may be going on in Peter’s offer to build three dwellings.  First, Peter was a fisherman, not a carpenter, so he is likely offering to do something rather beyond his skill set and outside his comfort zone.  But secondly, and far more importantly, Peter offers to build dwellings for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah only.  Peter is not looking to stay on the mountain with them.  Perhaps, recognizing that he is in the presence of the ancestors, Peter is simply offering hospitality to those who appear before him.  Perhaps, in this thin place, Peter is moved beyond his ability to make a home for the three men to shelter them from the wilderness of the mountain.  Jesus does not rebuke Peter for his offer or decline his hospitality.  Before anyone can do or say anything, a bright cloud overshadows them and they hear the voice of God say “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased.  Listen to him.”  And what does Jesus say to the terrified disciples?  “Get up and do not be afraid.” 

The mountain may be a thin place, but the mountain is also a wilderness, and God appeared to both Moses and Jesus in that wilderness.  This morning, we will bury the Alleluias as we prepare to enter the wilderness of Lent.   But, like the mountain, Lent is both a wilderness and a thin place.  Lent is a place of waiting where we both wait for God to act on Easter and a place where we can experience God in the stillness.  Lent is also a place of action as we seek God in that wilderness.  This morning, I wonder if during Lent, we are called to be like Peter, who was not known for his patience.  What if Lent calls us to step out of our comfort zone and offer hospitality to Jesus in a new way, as Peter did when he offered to build the three booths?  What if Lent calls us to offer hospitality to Jesus in the various wildernesses of the world-places where there is no peace, or where people need basic human provisions like food, shelter, or clothing, or where people experience injustice daily because of their skin color or sexual orientation? Perhaps people are waiting for us the way the people waited for Moses to come down from the mountain and they are waiting for us to act with all the eagerness of Peter.  What if the call of Lent is to enter the wilderness and be people of hospitality to those who live in that wilderness all the time.  How might our faith be shaped by such a wilderness?  As we bury our alleluias and come down from the mountain this morning to enter the wilderness of Lent on Wednesday, we are reminded that Jesus never declined Peter’s offer of hospitality.  Instead Jesus said “Get up and do not be afraid.”

                                                                   Amen.

         

Dark Chocolate

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
February 5, 2023

5 Epiphany A 

          Imagine my utter delight at finding out that February 1, last Wednesday, was National Dark Chocolate Day.  Seriously.  How have I lived almost 64 years without knowing this?  Quality dark chocolate, and I’m talking really dark here-70% cocoa or more, is not only delicious, it is also full of antioxidants, minerals and other healthy things.  But what is even better than dark chocolate is dark chocolate with just a touch of sea salt.  The sea salt does not call attention to itself so much as it enhances the depth of the chocolate in a luscious way, taking something that is already amazing and escalating the flavor to something quite exquisite. 

          So, I cannot help but think about chocolate when I hear Jesus say “You are the salt of the earth.”  Jesus also tells the disciples that they are the light of the world and says “In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”  The point of salt is not to draw attention to itself, but to enhance another flavor.  The point of light is not to draw attention to itself but to illuminate something else. In telling us to be salt and light, Jesus is telling us that our work as his followers is to enhance, give flavor, give depth and richness, to the work God is already doing in the world.  Then the world will see what the followers of God do, know something of God and be able to give God glory. So far, so good.

          Then Jesus says that he has come not to abolish the law and the prophets but to fulfill them.  In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus is portrayed as the new Moses, the one whose parents had to flee to Egypt to hide him from Herod when he was an infant, and the one who went up on the mountain to teach.  Today, as part of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus encourages the doing and the teaching of the commandments that Moses received on Mt. Sinai.  I wonder if we have more salt and light going on here.  First, perhaps Jesus is the salt that comes to give new flavor and richness to the law and the prophets, not to abolish or overpower them.  But also, perhaps the law and the prophets are themselves salt and light-a gift from God that illuminates the values of God and the identity of God’s people.

There is another side to both salt and light, however.  Anyone who has ever gotten salt in a wound knows the burn of salt, and in Northeast Ohio, we are well aware of the corrosive powers of salt.  We all know that light illuminates both things that we want to see as well as things we would rather not see.  In the reading from Isaiah, we hear these words “Announce to my people their rebellion, to the house of Jacob their sins. Yet day after day they seek me and delight to know my ways, as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness and did not forsake the ordinance of their God.”  Isaiah is being both salt and light here, using burning language to shine light on the ways the people fail to please God with their fasts because those fasts are not accompanied by action.  Likewise, Jesus’ work was to fulfill the prophets and do the same, being salt and light to show us where our words are not accompanied by our actions and we can better live as God’s people.

Lastly, Jesus says “unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”  Jesus challenged his newly minted disciples and Jesus challenged us when he told us that we are the salt of the earth and the light of the world.  He states this as fact, calling us to be the salt and the light that we are.  Jesus challenges us when he tells us that he has come not to abolish the law and the prophets but to fulfill them.  Our behavior, how we treat our fellow human beings, really does matter to God.  Now Jesus challenges the disciples and us once more, telling us that unless our righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, we cannot be part of the Kingdom of heaven that Jesus is ushering in.  Could we please just go back to being salt and light?

The scribes and the Pharisees get a bad rap in much of the New Testament for reasons that are largely polemic to the times in which the books were written.  The reality, which we know from parts of the New Testament and other first century writings, was that the Pharisees and Sadducees were deeply faithful.  They loved God with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength. They sought to live a life that was holy and pleasing to God by following God’s commandments in gratitude for all that God had done for them, especially but not exclusively for delivering them from Egypt in the Exodus.  At their best, they were faithful in worship, resisted evil, worked for justice and peace….sound familiar?  At our best, we do the same as we promise in our baptismal covenant.  When Jesus tells us that our righteous living must exceed that of the scribes and the Pharisees, he is setting a very high bar for his followers.  In fact, he has raised the bar to an impossible level.  So what are we to do?

Just as our Jewish forbearers relied on God to do the impossible, delivering them from Egypt, sustaining them in the wilderness, guiding them through their exile in Babylon and their return to the Promised Land, Jesus calls his followers to put their trust in him.  When we are asked in baptism if we will be faithful in worship, resist evil, proclaim the gospel, work for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being, we are not so bold as to say “I will.”  We say “I will, with God’s help.”  The only way we can live the lives Jesus calls us to live is with God’s help, which God freely promises to give.  Like the sea salt on dark chocolate, Jesus expects his followers to live our lives as salt and light so that those around us can taste and see the exquisite richness of the Kingdom of Heaven here on earth. 

                                                                             Amen.