Infinite Generosity 9/24/17 The Rev. David M. Stoddart

Matthew 20:1-16

A couple years ago, MSN published an article on how people spend their time. Based on numerous studies and surveys, the authors calculated how much time people would typically devote to certain activities, assuming they lived 75 years. Some of the results were predictable: in that lifespan, the average person spends 26 years sleeping and almost four and a half years eating. But some other things were surprising, at least to me: the average person spends just 27 days being romantic (which includes things like kissing and hugging), 115 days laughing  . . . and 5 months complaining. The numbers are just extrapolations, of course, but they ring true. Human beings do like to complain. And so it makes sense that the Bible, filled as it is with human beings, contains lots of complaining. In Exodus today, the Israelites, who have recently been set free from slavery in Egypt, exhibit a “what have you done for me lately” attitude towards God as they grouse about life in the wilderness. And we hear it in the Gospel, where the laborers in this parable are also complaining. The Greek verb used there is wonderfully expressive: they were egungozon, “grumbling.” Nothing bad has happened to them, mind you: they are grumbling because good things have happened to other people, which of course is even worse than if something bad had happened to them. You heard the story: some folks work all day while others work part of the day, and still others only for an hour — but they all get paid the same. Terrible! . . . or so it seems to them.

I suppose one way to make this story go down easier is not to automatically and self-righteously identify with the guys who have been laboring in the hot sun all day. If we identify with the ones who show up at the end of the day, the story feels much different. Seeing it from their perspective might encourage us to realize how much we have that we don’t really deserve. We could then count our blessings and be thankful, rather than grumble.

And that would certainly be a decent approach to this passage. But it does not go nearly far enough. Jesus did not come to tweak us here and there: he came to transform us. He doesn’t ask us to modify our outlook: he calls us to die and be born again. So his parables are not meant to be comfortable: the goal is not t0 find some way of interpreting them that doesn’t upset us too much. The parables of Jesus are designed to shatter our narrow worldview so that we can envision and experience something far, far greater. And what is being shattered today is any semblance of a reward system, any pretense that we can earn anything from God.

And I use that word “shatter” deliberately, because so many people function with the myth that you should get what you deserve. But, let’s be honest, it is a myth. There are people who inherit money or live very comfortably off investments while others do back-breaking labor their whole lives and barely get by. Some people eat well, exercise, take care of themselves and die young, while others eat, smoke, and drink their way into a ripe old age. Some morally upright people suffer horrible calamities; some blatantly immoral people thrive. Natural disasters devastate the innocent as much as the guilty. But we still cling to this idea that we will get what we deserve so much that abandoning it would be shattering.

But that’s exactly what Jesus tells us to do: abandon it. Let it go. At the heart of Reality is not a system of rewards and punishments, but the infinite love and generosity of God. Actually seeing that, truly recognizing that, will change your life. To do so is to live in the Kingdom and to experience the reign of God. We don’t have to love and do good to get into heaven: heaven has been given to us, and we are now free to love and do good, filled with God’s Spirt, for the sheer joy of it.

And, consequently, that sets us free from that most invidious form of complaining, which comes from comparing ourselves with others: resenting their success, envying their blessings, somehow feeling like we have less if they have more. But it doesn’t work that way. God’s generosity is infinite: you can have an infinite amount of it, and I can too. Everyone can. And it will come to us in the ways we need it to come, ways that have nothing to do with whether we’ve earned it or not. I was speaking with a parishioner this week who told me that it has been hard for her to maintain a disciplined prayer practices in part because she thinks she’s behind the ball: other people have been doing this for years, so she feels like she can’t even begin to catch up. But it doesn’t work that way. God is not like that. I have been praying for decades, but somebody could pray for the first time today and experience just as much love, just as much grace as I have. And that’s not unfair: that’s awesome! I am not made less by that. I’m not made less when others have gifts I don’t have or make more money than I make or enjoy success that I cannot attain to. I am loved infinitely and forever. Each one of us is loved infinitely and forever. It really is all good.

I don’t know how many months of your life you will spend complaining, but even one day is costly. If we honestly measured all the time and energy we devote to resenting other people, envying other people, wishing we had their luck, their looks, their lives, grumbling in our hearts about them, grumbling to other people about them, the amount would probably stagger us. That is wasted time we will never get back; that is squandered energy we could have devoted to far better things. Jesus, our Savior, comes to set us free in so many ways, and this is certainly one of them. And here’s the best news of all: God will set us free any time we want. We  don’t have to go to church for years or pray for hours a day or fast from chocolate during Lent or do anything to get God on our side. The only way to experience the infinite generosity of God is to accept it. And it is offered always. Even when the Israelites are whining in the wilderness, God’s response is to give them food and shower them with love. You could have been a mean-spirited, grumbling crab your whole life, and if you want God’s love to fill you, you can have it right now. All of it. Just as much as if you had been a faithful, loving, praying believer for years. You don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it. Deserving it is not part of God’s economy at all. It’s a gift. Take it -- and let it change you.

Dear Straight Cis Christians: A Reflection by Emily Rutledge

Dear Cis Straight Christians,

The older I get the fewer things there are that really get me riled up.  It has dwindled down to about 3:

1.  the correct use of there, their, and they're
2.  individuals who believe teenagers are a burden rather than blessing on our society
3.  the affirmation, celebration, and support of LGBTQ folk especially within Christian communities.

I am a former English teacher and current minister to teenagers so the first two fall in line with what people can glean from my resume.  The third... it's a result of showing up.

From a young age I was lucky enough to be raised in a home and community full of queer and trans folk.  Hawaiian culture has always embraced a third gender and as the granddaughter of artists and daughter of a flight attendant the subcultures my family was entrenched in were often safe havens for LGBTQ folk.  I realize that most people are not raised as I was.  I am aware that as a society and as a Church viewing LGBTQ friends as whole and worthy beings has been a rough road.  Secular communities seem to have moved at a more rapid pace in understanding the complexities of human beings than churches.

I was in college when Gene Robinson was elected the Bishop of New Hampshire and the collective freak-out the Episcopal Church had was eye opening for me... we were not as far along as I had been led to believe as a child.  A friend on my hall my freshman year at Gonzaga came out.  I felt lucky to have a friend who felt safe with me so when she told me, I bought her flowers.  When she told her parents, they disowned her.  They 'loved' her but couldn't accept who she was.

I watched as the double-door slam happened left and right around me.

1st door: Family
2nd door: Church

There's a million ways I can phrase this but I'm going to be blunt:

• God made as many people as there are combinations of gender and sexuality.  
• God wants all Her people to give and receive love in meaningful and fulfilling ways.
• Getting in the way of another person's ability to honor the Holy within them and be affirmed in their religious community because of their gender or sexuality is not of God.  

As simple as it sounds the past has taught people that are not cis and straight that church is not a safe place for them.  They have been shown that the community of Christ is for them only if they pretend to be different, or are closeted, or stay quiet.  

They are welcome as long as they don't reveal their whole selves.

Welcoming isn't enough.  

We have to celebrate.  We have to honor.  We have to name.

We have to affirm their creation and completion as beautiful creations of God not despite their gender or sexuality but BECAUSE of it.

We have to show up to Pride and be trained in terminology and statistics.  We have to bless the marriages and preach it from the pulpit.  We have to get loud and clear because otherwise our LGBTQ friends who are hungry for Christ are still not sure if they are safe with us.  The onus of this is on you and I.  Straight cis Christians are the people that have shunned, humiliated, and even killed... there is repair work to do.  Church has done a world of hurt -- we have to do some healing.

This one is on us.  We need to continue to be loud voices of the Loving God that created us and dwells within us.  We need to step out in support, in love, and in affirmation.

We need to BE CHRIST; unafraid of who we anger when we swing the doors open wide.

Sincerely,

Emily (a riled up ally)

Not on Our Own 9/17/17 The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

Matthew 18:21-35, Genesis 50:15-21

Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive?  As many as seven times?  Peter must have been pretty proud of himself with this question.  Seven times is a heck of a lot of times to forgive someone.  What a shock it must have been when Jesus replies, Not seven, but seventy seven times.  Yikes!  Truth be told, most of us have a hard time forgiving just once.  Seventy seven times, basically offering unlimited forgiveness?  Most of us would find that close to impossible.  

One of the reasons that forgiveness can be so difficult for us is that it’s easy to confuse what it is and what it isn’t.  Like forgiveness is not about forgetting, as in the old saying, Forgive and Forget.  That’s ridiculous.  Whatever happened in the past is history and it can’t be changed nor can it be forgotten.  And forgiveness is not about saying something is okay.  If something is okay then it doesn’t need to be forgiven.  If forgiveness is needed it means that something was definitely not okay.  And offering forgiveness does not mean that consequences are absolved.  Brokenness in various ways may still be the result of an act even though the offender has been forgiven.  What forgiveness actually is, the forgiveness that Jesus speaks of, a forgiving from the heart, is a letting go - a letting go of bitterness, of resentment, of the desire to seek revenge - so that eventually the hardness fades away and is replaced by a kind of peace that frees the person who forgives to fully live. 

The rub is that it’s one thing to know this in your head.  It’s a completely different thing to experience it in your heart.  I’ve been with countless people who struggle, struggle mightily, to forgive - and the offender varies.  Some seek to forgive a particular person, or a group of people.  Others are unable to forgive themselves for a certain act or to forgive God who either seemed to cause or allow something to happen.  What’s particularly troubling is that even if we think that forgiveness is a good thing it still can be a very hard to do in our hearts.  So when Jesus says that he expects us to forgive seventy seven times and adds that there may be dire consequences if we do not, well that can feel quite defeating.  Is Jesus really setting up a condition that if we unable to fulfill we are to keep away?  Is he saying that if we find ourselves unable to forgive that we have no place with him? 

No.  Absolutely not.  That’s not what he’s saying.  Something else is going on here for God desires each one of us to always come close and live fully in her love.  Our God does not expect us nor does she want us to go off on our own, get our lives in order, shape up first and then come to her.  Rather God’s way is always to call us to come with all of our messy imperfections and embarrassing failures so that we might know love, be loved and be healed and made whole. 

That’s what God wants for all of us all the time and it’s no different when it comes to forgiveness.  God knows our struggles - how hard it can be to let go of hurt and resentment particularly when the offense is grave.  God also knows that Jesus’ command to forgive can sometimes feel downright impossible.  But what if that is exactly what God wants us to know.  That, yes, the expectation to forgive seventy seven times is, indeed, not something that we can do on our own.  Because when able we recognize that, admit that it’s beyond our ability we can then turn to God for help.  Our inadequacy actually becomes an opportunity to come closer the love and mercy of God.  Hear this: Forgiveness is not a job that Jesus wants us to do on our own.  Forgiveness is a job that Jesus wants to do in us - in your heart and in mine.

But in order for that job to begin, for that process to start - because more often than not forgiveness is a process not a one-time event - we need to be willing for God’s Spirit to be at work in us.  Honestly, that may be a challenge in and of itself.  Sometimes we don’t even want to be open to change, to the possibility of forgiveness.  Here again if that’s the case, it’s another invitation to come close to God.  For some a beginning prayer may be, Help me to want to want to forgive.  And even from there over time, as we allow God’s Spirit to move in our hearts forgiveness will come, a slow softening will occur until one day, probably without any fanfare, there’s a realization that the resentment, the hardness, the sting is gone.  And in its place,  the healing balm of forgiveness. 

We see that forgiveness at work in our Old Testament reading today with Joseph and his brothers.  Brothers that were consumed with jealousy and wanted Joseph gone so badly that they sold him into slavery where he suffered for many years until rising to become the highest official in Egypt under Pharaoh.  And after many years had passed circumstances forced the brothers come before Joseph.  Understandably they were afraid and filled with fear and trembling for they deserved any retribution that Joseph would decide to mete out.  But, God’s Spirit had clearly been at work in Joseph’s heart for instead of punishment he offers forgiveness saying, Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good.

Now God did not want Joseph to suffer all those years as a slave nor did God make it happen, but God still used that horrible experience, the wrongs that Joseph endured, for good.  That’s what God wants to do for us, too.  Whatever bad things have happened in our lives, whatever suffering or struggle we have faced or are facing at this moment God wants to use it, to redeem it, and make it for good.  That’s not to say that God turns something bad into something good.  Bad is still bad and there’s no changing it.  However, our lives do not have to be poisoned by what happened in the past.  Whomever or whatever we find hard to forgive God seeks take it and somehow turn it into a means a grace - something that God can work in and through in order to bless. 

Being told that we need to forgive seventy seven times is not a precursor to judgment.  Rather it's an invitation to come - to come closer and know even more fully and truly God’s great love, God’s unlimited mercy, God’s amazing grace.   And to let all of that flow into our lives and into the lives of everyone in this world no matter who they are or what they’ve done.  That kind of love and forgiveness is bigger and greater than anything any of us can muster.  But the good news is we are not expected to.  We get to experience it ourselves and let it flow through us into the world so that, with God’s help, we might be empowered to actually forgive seventy seven times. 

 

Playing with God: A Reflection by Father David

We had our first WAC (Wednesdays at COOS) for the season a couple days ago. After a good dinner provided by the Hamburger Helpers (one of five cooking teams we have for this weekly event), John Wharton led the assembled group in several ice breaker games, which was a load of fun. As people laughed and joked, I could feel God's delight, like God was right there, playing with us.

That may sound far-fetched, but I mean it: I am very serious about God playing around! In our contemplative prayer group, we recently read this passage from Thomas Keating's book, Open Mind, Open Heart:

"God is not some remote, inaccessible, and implacable Being who demands instant perfection from His creatures and of whose love we must make ourselves worthy. He is not a tyrant to be obeyed out of terror, nor a policeman who is ever on the watch, nor a harsh judge ever ready to apply the verdict of guilty. We should relate to him less and less in terms of reward and punishment and more and more on the basis of the gratuity — or the play — of divine love."

Keating goes on to describe that divine love as "compassionate, tender, luminous, totally self-giving, seeking no reward, unifying everything."

We can be so serious and somber as we ponder God, but the Holy One who declared all creation good (Gen. 1), who made great sea creatures for the sport of it (Psalm 104:27), who delights in God's people (Isaiah 62:4), who rejoices in sexual love (the whole Song of Solomon!), and who pours out the Holy Spirit on all flesh (Joel 2:28; Acts 2:1-17) is a God who knows how to play! Laughter and joy are unmistakable signs of the Spirit. Life can be difficult, and at times excruciatingly painful, but true faith in the God Jesus reveals should always lighten the load and remind us that our story, part of The Story, has a happy ending. It's okay to laugh along the way. 

The man who first taught me how to pray always told me to have a light touch. He would suggest a passage from Scripture for me to meditate on and say, "Just play with it." I was grimly serious, and so I struggled to do that: finding God must be agonizing, right? It must be a life and death struggle, with infinite stakes, correct? No! God's love is a free gift given to even the most sinful among us. The more we can accept that, the more playful we can become, the easier it is for God's love to transform our lives. It is actually quite funny that it took me so long to let that penetrate my defenses: once it did, it changed my life.

"Serious" religious people do so much damage in our world: they judge, they condemn, they hate, they persecute, and they kill. It does not have to be that way! Why not practice the spiritual disciplines of joy, delight, and self-giving love? Why not admit that none of us is perfect and never will be perfect in this life? Why not love freely and generously, trusting that it will all turn out well in the end? Why not actually live the faith we proclaim — you know, that part about Jesus rising from the dead and assuring us that God's love wins forever? Why not? It is true, and it feels so much better than the alternative!

Meister Eckhart, one of the great mystics of the church, once described the mystery of existence this way: “In the heart of the Trinity, the Father laughs and gives birth to the Son. The Son laughs back at the Father and gives birth to the Spirit. The whole Trinity laughs and gives birth to us.”

Yes! Play on!

Among Us Right Now 9/10/17 The Rev. David M. Stoddart

Matthew 18:15-20

Do you remember the big fad a few years back when people walked around with those plastic bracelets that said WWJD on them, for “What would Jesus do?” I never really liked them, for a several reasons. For one thing, I don’t think people took them very seriously. If they did, they’d have to admit that going to parties with prostitutes, buying more alcohol for drunks, consorting with convicted criminals, and hanging out with the outcasts of society are all distinct possibilities, something which I doubt most of the pious folks wearing those bracelets would ever do. But more than that, it is the hypothetical nature of the phrase that bothers me: “What would Jesus do . . . if he was in this situation?” I actually like that other bracelet that came out shortly afterwards with the letters JWPNHGHITSITFP on it, for “Jesus would probably not have gotten himself into this situation in the first place.” But any talk of what Jesus would or would not do is not faithful to the Gospel we just heard, in which Jesus does not say, “When two or three are gathered in my name, I might, possibly, on a good day, be among them.” No, when two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.

Jesus is here among us right now. Christ is the Incarnation of God’s Presence in all human life; when even the smallest human community recognizes that, Christ is right there with them. Not just in big events like Sunday worship, but in every gathering: at WAC, in the Food Pantry, at Finance Commission meetings, when a couple of mothers are hanging out with their kids on the playground: always and everywhere, Christ is present. And so the great question is not: What would Jesus do, if he were here? The great question is: What is Jesus doing? — because he is here. And Christ comes among us with all the energy and power of God Almighty. He’s always doing something!

And we know that something is always about love. But love takes concrete forms, and so this Gospel today gives us direct insight into what Jesus is up to. On the face of it, this is a passage about conflict resolution in churches, probably not anybody’s favorite topic. It outlines a pretty arduous process to follow if someone in the church hurts someone else. In my experience, this is widely ignored and the most common approach to this problem in churches is passive aggressive avoidance: letting it go outwardly while seething about inwardly and talking badly about the offender behind his back. But Jesus tells us we have to do whatever we can to be reconciled to that person, even enlisting the help of a few friends or the whole community, if needed, to do so. Can you imagine doing that every time someone annoys you at church? Actually, I can. I have preached some sermons and had unhappy parishioners set up “come to Jesus” talks with me afterwards. And that’s okay, because the point of those conversations has been to maintain relationship even when there is disagreement or hurt. The goal should always be reconciliation and renewed connection.

But that is not just a church goal: that is what Jesus is doing in community — working to maintain and when necessary restore the bonds of love. Did you notice in this passage that, even though it talks about one person sinning against another, there is no talk of punishment or payback. Because that is not what Jesus does. I need to stop and make this really clear to you. Jesus does not do punishment. That may stagger us, since our society is all about punishing wrongdoers: we have one of the highest incarceration rates in the world. “Lock’em up” may be an American mantra, but it is not a Jesus mantra. We as a society want retributive justice, but Jesus, the embodiment of God’s love, wants restorative justice. And there is a world of difference between those two things. What Jesus is always doing, what God is always doing, is working to set thing things right and restore people to wholeness of life in community with others.

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus begins his public ministry in a synagogue by taking the scroll of the prophet Isaiah and reading these words from chapter 61: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. He does not say, “I have come to smite the wicked and to punish the evildoers.” That’s not what he’s about, that’s not what he does. I was on 5th Street the other day and saw an AHIP truck, you know, from the Albemarle Housing Improvement Program. Painted across the side of it was their simple slogan: “If it’s broke, fix it.” Yes! That is what Jesus does. He fixes things. He heals the sick and binds up the brokenhearted and forgives the sinner and restores the outcast to community. When two or three are gathered together, he is there among them, and he is moving to fix whatever is broken there among them. Because he is Love, and that is what Love does.

He is doing it right now. His Spirit is moving through this gathered community to touch every hurting heart, every damaged person sitting in these pews. He is moving through this parish to relieve the hunger and poverty and spiritual brokenness in the community around us. He is moving through all of us together to embrace immigrants and Muslims and African-Americans and LGBTQ people and, yes, racists and disenfranchised white people and everyone who feels alienated or marginalized and include them in loving, authentic, and life-changing community. When we pray, we are not ultimately asking that God bless what we are doing: we are seeking to change, so that we can do what God is already blessing. That’s why when two or three people get it, and pray accordingly, their prayer is already answered: they are already doing it, or rather Christ is already doing it through them.

So forget about what Jesus would do: we know what he is doing. Let’s agree on that and pray for that, so that all of us here can be part of the restoring, healing, reconciling, forgiving, loving work that Jesus wants to do in us and through us. I’m serious: pray to be a channel of Christ’s love to fix what is broken around us, and our prayer will be answered immediately. Christ will make us the answer to that prayer, Christ will make you the answer to that prayer. And then we will  all know that Jesus is here among us.

Uncle Bish: A Reflection by Emily Rutledge

I'm a cradle Episcopalian.  There is not a time I can remember my life without church on Sundays and the social circle I was wrapped up in being made up of the people that sat around me in the pews. I grew up going to an open and breezy church in Kailua, Hawaii.  The sides of the church were sliding door which were wide open during services so that the trade-winds and small children could easily pass through.  My childhood priest was a dad of two children my age and wore his softball cleats under his robe on Sundays our church team had a game.  Church was home to me so it is no surprise that when my last year in elementary school imploded because of bullying and my struggles with anxiety it was Church that supported both my mother and I.  Through all the ways that God does Her thing... I ended up with a scholarship to the Diocese of Hawaii's Episcopal all girl's school, St. Andrew's Priory.  The Priory was a place where I learned the power that I held, my worth, and that launched me into the world empowered and loved.

Unbeknownst to my 11 year old self, while my life was imploding in 6th grade so was the Diocese of Hawaii.  I heard hushed conversations about it at church and with parents but it never registered much to me.  The idea of a Diocese, of a larger church, of anything past my home parish wasn't real or important to me.  All I know, to this day, is there were money issues and the then Bishop stepped down and left a big old financial mess.

So there I was, the Fall of 1996, a new Priory girl with loads of anxiety and a little bit of hope.  Our school was on the same property as the Office of the Bishop and the Cathedral.  Each day on my way to and from the bus stop I walked through the old buildings knowing that big important stuff happened there that had nothing to do with me.

A new bishop was being elected and there were lots of opinions and conversations.  Ultimately, the the Rt. Rev. Richard Sui On Chang was elected.  I distinctly remember people saying he was the right fit for the job.  He would be able to pull the Diocese out of the financial ruin it was being swallowed up by.  He had been the right-hand person to the Presiding Bishop, held lots of positions of importance in the National Church, and was a 'numbers guy'.  He was elected for a purpose and because he had very specific skills when it came to money management.

Do you want to know how to make a 7th grade girl feel ambivalent about an adult... call him a 'numbers guy'.   

Little did I know that this 'numbers guy' would change my life.

He was a local boy, raised in Honolulu, and when he moved back to be our Bishop I know he did lots of numbers stuff and did all the financial magic that everyone had hoped he would do to get the Church to a healthy place (do y'all now see why I do not sit on the finance commission!).

I am sure all of that was really important to a lot of people.  None of that was important to me.

Ironically there were very few Episcopalians in my Episcopal school.  The Church continued to be my safe space and support so as I moved through my years at The Priory I began to cross paths with this Bishop guy... a lot.  School events and a search for a new rector of my home church meant that this Bishop Chang fellow and I were seeing each other a lot.  Always one to remember my name and the last conversation we had, Bishop Chang and his wife, Dee, seemed more like another member of the family than the person in charge of all the Episcopalians in my state.  The big hat, the staff, the ring... I had to realize that he was a pretty important person but somehow it didn't sink in.

Bishop Chang saw something in me that I struggled to see in myself... worth.  Bishop Chang did not see young people as up and coming church leaders but as leaders in the church NOW.  He gave us positions on boards and a voice.  He advocated for us, knew us, and supported us in a multitude of ways both as a group and individually.  By the time I was in high school he had taken on the name Uncle Bish to the youth of our diocese.  He attended national youth events with us, I became besties with his secretary, and in college during the summers I would work in his office.  He is one of the people who taught me about ministering to teenagers and how much fuller and alive Church is when young people are fully engaged and empowered in it.

Bishop Chang showed me how to be a disciple of Christ.  He loved fully and well, knowing people and letting himself be known by them.  He didn't let any position of power take away from his calling and even in the midst of fixing a financial crisis he found time to love and mentor, advocate and empower others to find their place in the Kingdom.  One of my adult chaperones to the Episcopal Youth Event in Wyoming was an amazing and openly gay man.  At the time he was in seminary and spoke to me about the things happening in the Church regarding Bishop Gene Robinson and how his own path to ordained ministry was not a smooth road.  Bishop Chang was this man's mentor and ordained him. Uncle Bish was past discussing who was 'in' or 'out' of the Kingdom and was clear to our whole diocese that EVERYONE IS IN.

Last week, after a short illness Bishop Chang died.  Two friends called to tell me the news so that I wouldn't read it or find out on social media.  They are both priests, married.  One of those priests, Jar, was a year younger than me in school and was also mentored by Uncle Bishop, I actually think it was he who coined the name.  His life was changed by the 'numbers guy', too.

You may not have a funny hat or huge ring or walk around with a shepherd's crook (if you do, more power to you), but you and Uncle Bish are really not that different.  You have a set of skills the world needs.  You may teach or build houses or do medical research or drive a bus.  Those skills are important and will do lots of good but you also have this other thing... you have the love of Christ to pour out on everyone you come in contact with.

To be honest, I didn't really think being a Bishop was that big a deal until I left the Diocese of Hawaii and realized not everyone invites the Bishop to their wedding.  Bishop Chang showed me that what is a big deal is how you treat people, how you listen, how you remember details and follow up.  He taught me that the gates are WIDE OPEN for EVERYONE and it's our job to invite people in.

All are welcome.

Called to Be an Agent 9/3/17 The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

Exodus 3:1-15

In our reading from Exodus we hear about a mission impossible: Good morning, Mr. Moses. I
am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob... I
have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry...Indeed, I
know their sufferings. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to go to Pharaoh and
bring my people out of Egypt.

Too bad for Moses that in the biblical account God didn’t really give him a choice, because
Moses most certainly would have declined. This was way out of his comfort zone. And he gives
five reasons why - Who am I? I’m not good enough. When that didn’t work he changes tactics. I
don’t know enough. What if someone asks me something and I don’t have the answer?

Further along in the story beyond our reading today Moses continues to put up resistance, I’m
telling you, God, no one is going to believe me, which morphs into, Haven’t you noticed I don’t
have the skill set for this - I’m a terrible public speaker and, when he sees he’s getting nowhere
Moses gives up and pleads, O Lord, just please ask someone else!

But God’s not having any of it. Nor does God take this opportunity to build up Moses’ self
esteem by telling him what a great guy he is, what qualifications actually make him a good
choice for the mission. God doesn’t do this because it really doesn’t matter. The success of
God’s mission doesn’t rest on who Moses is and what Moses can do. Rather the success of this
mission rests fully on who God is and what God can do. I will be with you, God tells Moses.
Because that’s what matters: that’s what makes all the difference. The only reason that Moses is
able to accomplish the mission impossible of bringing the Israelites out of Egypt is because God
is with him.

Now as people of faith we know that Moses is not the only one who is called to be an agent in
God’s mission to set people free – free from various bonds so that they may live a full and
abundant life. We, too, are all called to participate in that mission. Like Moses, though, we’d
strongly prefer to fulfill God’s mission within the bounds of our own comfort zone. Unlike
Moses, when we get a sense that God is calling us to engage in something that feels like a stretch
or risky even, we offer our well-reasoned excuses and are able to choose to not accept the
mission.

Take Invitation Sunday, for example. Believing that God wants everyone to know Her, the
leadership of the church, Fr. David, Emily, the Vestry, and I, are asking everyone to invite
someone to church on the 17th. If you are a typical Episcopalian, that’s way out of your comfort
zone. There’s plenty of excuses we could give to not accept this mission. Moses offered five -
that’s nothing. Our Vestry came up with no less than 24 reasons why it is so hard to invite
someone to church! (This is not to put down the Vestry in any way. They did an excellent job of
giving voice to what we all might think, but not want to say.) Here’s a sampling: I don’t want to
be rejected. It may damage my friendship. I don’t want someone to think I’m a Bible-thumper.
What if they ask me something and I don’t have the answer? An invitation is an intrusion - faith
is a private thing. That’s just five reasons. I have a list of the 19 others in my office and I bet you
could come up with a few more to add to it.

But before you completely dismiss this mission of invitation I have a story to tell you, it’s part of
my story. I grew up in a nice home with good parents, but church was not our thing. I did have
plenty of friends who went to church, but I don’t recall ever being invited to join them. Little did
they know that I really wanted to see what church was like. Something inside of me longed for a
more meaningful relationship with God than I could generate by myself. Now I knew I could
always go on my own: the church doors would not have been locked. But I didn’t. It wasn’t until
I graduated high school that an acquaintance of mine - I still remember his name, Scott Webb -
invited me to his church and it changed the rest of my life. Up until then I’d had a bit of a
spiritual life. I believed in God. I prayed sometimes. But when I came to church I felt more
connected. The church community offered a place where my spirit could be nurtured and grow.
It was a place for me to question and learn and serve and be challenged. Ultimately, Church
offered me meaningful and sustaining ways to know more fully the love of God and the love of
God’s people. Scott Webb and I had been acquainted for over six years. I don’t know why after
all that time he invited me to church one day, but I will always be grateful.

I’m sure there are people in the same situation I was right now in each one of our lives. God is at
work in their hearts stirring up the desire for a deeper spiritual relationship. And God calls us
just as clearly as he called Moses to get out of our comfort zones in order to be an active agent in
God’s mission. Go, Jesus says at the end of the gospel of Matthew - Go and make disciples of all
nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. That
verse is known as The Great Commission. I want to highlight to you that it’s a co-mission
because, like Moses, we do not do it alone. God is with us. The very last sentence of The Great
Commission is, Remember I am with you always, to the end of the age. The success of God’s
mission, as impossible as it might seem, does not rest on who we are or what we can do -
therefore our excuses are irrelevant - but rather who God is and what God can do. And we know
our God is Love itself. And that Love is at work in all human hearts so that all might know they
are beloved and live in the fullness of relationship with God - a relationship which sets everyone
free.

Your mission, therefore, if you choose to accept it, is to offer someone an invitation to church.
Take a moment now or later and ask God who is the person in your life that is being prepared to
be invited. When you get a sense of who that person is simply open your mouth and dare to let
nine words come out, “Would you like to come to church with me?” Whether that person says
yes or no, that’s God’s part of this co-mission. It’s fine if the person turns you down because
God will use your invitation to sow a seed in their heart. Upon offering the invitation your
mission is complete - the “win” is in the ask. God handles the rest. I am choosing to accept this
mission. What about you?