COOS Sunday Worship August 30, 2020

 

COOS Sunday Worship

August 30, 2020

Order of Worship

(can be printed out)

Burning bushes are everywhere. August 30, 2020 The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

Exodus 3:1-15

When someone says they've had a burning bush experience likely they are talking about a moment where they had a sense of a clear encounter with God. Which is an enviable thing. My guess is that we’d all like to have that - a clear encounter, a burning bush experience - at least once in our lives.

 But what if we’ve actually been given the opportunity of having not just one burning bush experience but countless ones and are simply unaware. Because when you think about it there’s really nothing so special about a fiery bush. Even though our reading from Exodus tells us that an angel of the Lord was in the flame that’s not what Moses saw. He just saw a bush on fire. What caught his attention wasn’t the bush itself but the fact that it wasn’t burning up. It was that curious thing that prompted Moses to turn aside from what he was doing and give it a second look. It was only then, after Moses started paying attention did God reveal Godself and speak.

 Which makes me wonder, what if Moses hadn’t turned aside to investigate? What would have happened? It’s hard for me to imagine that God would have shouted from the bush, “Hey, Moses! Look! Over here! It’s me, God!” In fact, rabbis of old muse that perhaps Moses wasn’t the first one to have passed by this bush. Maybe there had been others but it was only Moses who took the time to notice.

 Because a burning bush experience is not necessarily an eye-catching display of pyrotechnics. Rather encountering God is, more often than not, found in the natural things of this world if only we take the time to turn aside from whatever occupies us to notice. Which means that life - your life and my life - are filled with burning bushes. Poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning puts it this way:

 Earth’s crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God:

But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,

The rest sit round it, and pluck blackberries.

 So how can we see such ordinary experiences as holy encounters? Perhaps the first step is by reminding ourselves that burning bushes are everywhere and then to be on the lookout for them. I have no doubt that if you look, you will find. Life is chock-full of things that call to us to turn aside, to wonder, to notice. Things like sunlight upon a tree’s leaves or a cat’s delight upon a lap or a phone call from a friend. These can all be burning bush experiences if we, like Moses, turn aside from whatever we are doing to take a few extra moments to pay attention and behold the holy in our midst. And as we do, these mystical yet ordinary burning bushes ask no more from us than a response of acknowledgement, wonder, and gratitude.

 But there are other types of bushes that do call for more. Instead of ordinary, these bushes are urgent, often born out of someone’s need. These fiery bushes interrupt our plans like we see in the story of the Good Samaritan. As you probably recall, the story begins with a man left for dead on the side of the road. After some time two good, religious people see the man but they turn a blind eye to God’s fiery call and walk on by. Eventually there comes another man, a Samaritan, who sees and is willing to be interrupted, to turn aside, and to respond to the need. And in the act of doing so both men, whether they know it or not, encounter God. So what urgent burning bush is calling to you? A challenging child? A needy neighbor? A just cause? Although these holy bushes are sometimes tempting to ignore because they interrupt, because they can ask much from us, when we are willing to turn aside, to engage, and to respond we find God.

 Then there’s the type of burning bush experience that’s absolutely personal. It’s for nobody else but you. God calls your name alone because you are uniquely known and loved. Now such individual burning bushes don’t happen everyday, but when they do God speaks in a deep and personal way.

 Indeed, earth is crammed with heaven and every common bush afire with God. Look for it. Pay attention and you will see. But know that no two bushes are exactly alike. Yet one thing they all have in common is the message that God speaks to Moses and to us that no matter what, “I,” God says, “I will be with you.” God is present and always with you. That is the good news of every burning bush. And that is, ultimately, the only news that really matters.

 

 

 

 

COOS Sunday Worship August 23, 2020

 

COOS Sunday Worship

August 23, 2020

Order of Worship

(may be printed out)

Receiving God's love. August 23, 2020 The Rev. David M. Stoddart

 Matthew 16: 13-20

Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you. As a priest, I find this passage both daunting and liberating. I could preach a hundred sermons; I could lead worship for a hundred years; I could offer scores of classes; I could baptize, marry, and bury countless numbers of people and eat a million deviled eggs at a million parish receptions, but I cannot make a single person believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. I cannot make anyone see that Jesus is the human face of God.  I can proclaim it, can cajole, argue, pester, and plead — but only God can convince.

By this point in Matthew’s Gospel, lots of people have heard Jesus teach. Many people have witnessed his healing power at work. Thousands of people have been miraculously fed by him. But only Peter sees the truth. In a moment of supreme clarity, Peter understands that Jesus is not just another prophet, not just a gifted teacher or a charismatic healer: he is the Son of the living God. When we see him, we see God. Jesus is the way God is; God is the way Jesus is. There is no doctrine or prayer book that Peter can refer to, no tradition he can fall back on. This is a moment of divine inspiration, when Peter experiences the truth for himself. Now, to be sure, Peter will falter and fail many times after this, and he will not always live out the truth that he proclaims. And he will spend the rest of his life realizing all the ramifications of that truth. But at least in this moment, by the sheer grace of God, he gets it.

My great hope would be that everyone in our parish would know what Peter knows in the deepest way possible. The good news is that we all have at least an inkling of that: I wouldn’t be preaching and you wouldn’t be watching right now if we didn’t. But Peter’s story sheds light on our own stories in some significant ways.

To begin with, God wants us to experience this truth ourselves. Our parents can’t do it for us, our spouses can’t do it for us, our children can’t do it for us, our priests can’t do it for us. While the faith of others can at times inspire us and comfort us, there is no substitute for experiencing for ourselves the truth that Jesus reveals God. Second-hand faith can only get us so far. This is no doubt why Jesus is so excited by Peter’s confession of faith and why he orders his disciples not to tell others that he is the Christ. They need to see it for themselves.

But Peter’s faith still needs to deepen and grow, and so does ours. What I have experienced in my own life and have seen in the lives of others is that fully accepting the love of God which Jesus embodies is a process, and not always an easy one. Scratch the surface and we may realize that our faith is actually more about following rules and earning rewards than it is about receiving God’s love as a gift. Or we may discover that we, for whatever reason, cling to a punitive image of God, a God who is angry, mean, and vindictive. Or when confronted with the kind of love Jesus demonstrates, we may be forced to admit that we really don't love ourselves and don’t feel worthy of being loved by anyone, much less by God. We may talk a good game, but believing that Jesus really is the Son of God will often demand that we let go of a lot of baggage.

And we can’t do that on our own. Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.  Only God can give us such faith, and that is exactly what God desires to do. The Holy Spirit is already alive in us, leading us into fuller, deeper knowledge of God’s love. We can’t force that to happen, and we don’t need to: we just need to keep showing up and letting God do what only God can do. This is what Paul is getting at when he writes in Romans today: I appeal to you therefore brothers and sisters, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds.

So as we let the Spirit renew and transform our minds, what will we see? We will see that God is self-giving love. Compassion is God’s nature and mercy is God’s language. We will see that God’s love embraces everyone, seeking always to forgive, to heal, and to save, and there are no exceptions to that. We will realize that the love Jesus reveals is the same love that creates the universe, and that love is the greatest power in the universe. We will know that nothing ultimately defeats that love, not even death. We will understand that all of us are loved unconditionally,  infinitely, and forever. 

I cannot make you believe that. But I know it’s true. And I know God wants you to know it as well. And I know God can make that happen — which is the only reason I can preach it.

COOS Sunday Worship August 16, 2020

 

COOS Sunday Worship

August 16, 2020

Dogged faith. August 16, 2020 The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

Matthew 15:21-28 

"Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon,” shouts a Canaanite woman over and over and over again. And what does Jesus do? Nothing. He ignores her! It’s only when the disciples can take no more of this screeching woman that they come to Jesus and ask him to so something, to send her away. To which Jesus declares, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." Basically, I’m not here for people like her. 

Although rejected, the woman takes this as her opportunity. At least he’s not ignoring her anymore. “Lord, help me,” she pleads. Yet once again, she is rebuffed as Jesus explains, "It is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." 

At this point in the story I always want to ask, “Who is this Jesus, and what has he done with my Lord and Savior?!?” And I’m not the only one. Many have tried to explain this seemingly uncharacteristic behavior. Maybe Jesus was just having a bad day. Or maybe he was trying to teach his disciples something. Or perhaps he was testing the woman’s faith. Or maybe at this point in his ministry Jesus didn’t understand the full extent of his mission. 

Regardless of why Jesus did what he did, honestly, I don’t like it. That’s not the Jesus I want and perhaps you feel the same. But that’s the Jesus we get in today’s gospel reading. And sometimes, that’s the Jesus we get in life. I mean, can’t we all identify with the Canaanite woman’s experience? Haven’t we all asked God in Christ for something and not gotten it? Begged for something - for healing, for help, for some kind of intervention - and felt like all we got in return was silence? 

As uncomfortable as this story is, it bears witness to the reality that we don’t have God all figured out. And that faith is complicated and sometimes even a struggle. But this story also witnesses to someone who, in the face of it all, continues to insist that God is good and merciful and will come through. 

This past week, as I’ve thought about this Canaanite woman and her dogged faith another woman has come to mind. A woman that many of us knew, the Rev. Jennifer Durant. She was my friend, my colleague, and my predecessor. And, as many of you know, Jennifer lived valiantly as ALS robbed her of everything. It was horrible. And no one knew that more than Jennifer. So it made an impression on me during one of the times we got together when she told me about a recent sermon she had just written. She said she quoted a verse from a contemporary Christian song that spoke to her. It went, “I don’t know what you’re doing [God], but I know who you are.” 

That’s the faith that Jennifer held onto during her heartbreaking decline. I don’t know what you’re doing [God], but I know who you are. 

And that is the faith of the Canaanite woman. The faith that even when God doesn’t do what we think God should be doing we know who God is. Good and merciful. 

In the end, it is this dogged faith that gets Jesus’ attention. True, the Canaanite woman is a remarkably quick thinker. Taking Jesus’ statement about throwing children’s food to the dogs and turning it on it’s head - "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table." But underneath that wit, what she really is saying is that, “I’m trusting you, Lord. I’m trusting that somehow you will come through. That your love will triumph. Your mercy will overcome. Your redemption will save. Even when I don’t know what you’re doing. 

No wonder Jesus was impressed. "Woman,” he says, “great is your faith!” And her daughter was instantly healed. In this encounter, the problem is resolved fairly quickly. For us, though, redemption is often more slow in coming. We may not know what God is doing all the time, but we know who God is. Good and merciful. And because we know that, because that is the faith that together we proclaim, we can trust that in the end God will come through.

Midweek message from Fr. David 8/5/20

Midweek message from Fr. David

August 5, 2020

COOS Sunday Worship August 2, 2020

COOS Sunday Worship

August 2, 2020

Order of Worship

(can be printed out)

Bring what you have. August 2, 2020 The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

Mathew 14:13-21

We’ve been hearing a lot of parables lately. The Kingdom of Heaven is like a sower or a mustard seed or a hidden treasure. And with those parables comes the good news of God’s abundant energy of love that turns out to be everywhere. But today we turn from parable to miracle with Matthew’s version of the feeding of the 5,000 which, for many of us moderns, is harder to grasp. Because, come on, the suggestion that bread and fish miraculously multiply over and over again seems more like a children’s fantasy or some kind of wish fulfillment. Certainly not something that is grounded in reality.

Or is it? Because unlike parables that are really stand-alone vignettes, miracle stories and, in particular, this miracle story doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It takes place in the midst of real life. Our reading begins, “When Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself.” What did Jesus hear, you might wonder? Well, what he had just heard was devastating news. His cousin, John the Baptist, had been murdered. Beheaded by King Herod. No wonder Jesus wanted to be alone. But that was not to be. Because when Jesus comes ashore to what he thought was a deserted place he sees that the crowd had beaten him there.

Yet instead of feeling resentment towards the masses, Jesus is filled with compassion - an abundance of compassion that never grows weary. So he gets to work. Healing the sick, making people whole until evening comes and the disciples interrupt with a growing concern. “It’s getting late,” they point out to Jesus, “and here we are out in the middle of nowhere. People need to eat. Why don’t you send them away so they can fend for themselves?” And to my mind, this is Jesus’ out. He could justifiably send them all away and finally have some time to himself. But instead he wants the people to stay and invites the disciples to address the need. But their resources are woefully inadequate - five loaves of bread and two fish for thousands of people is basically nothing at all. Yet Jesus takes what they have, blesses it, and, lo and behold, it turns out to be not just enough, but more than enough with leftovers to boot.

How did it happen? By supernatural intervention? Or, perhaps, something more along the lines of people being inspired to share? We don’t know. But what we do know is that as all those people ate and had their fill the abundant energy of God’s love was at work. A parable brought to life - the Kingdom of Heaven coming near. Now did that mean that everyone’s life was fixed once and for all? No. John the Baptist was still dead. Jesus and others would still grieve. Stomachs were full for the night, but they would be hungry again. The oppression of Rome still weighed heavy on everyone's life. Even when the Kingdom of Heaven came near, life was far from perfect. Yet in that particular place, on that particular evening the blessing of God’s abundant love was more than enough.

And that’s the way it happens. In the midst of our particular lives, with all of its unique messes, struggles, and problems, that’s where the Kingdom of Heaven happens. So what is it right now that you need? Where in your life does it seem that you don’t have the resources? Perhaps you may feel that you don’t have enough energy or patience or hope in these times? Or maybe your need is pretty concrete, like not having enough income or child care or physical strength and vitality? Whatever your need, Jesus does not weary of it. He is filled with deep compassion. And he invites you to bring it all to him - your need to him and whatever resources you have, even if it is only a paltry five loaves and two fish in the face of thousands.

Because here’s how you can experience the Kingdom of God happening in your life: Bring what you have. Offer it to God. Let God in Christ take it. Bless it. And in return give back to you the abundant energy of God’s love - a love which can take a variety of forms, from a specific answer to prayer, to a sense of peace in the midst of uncertainty, to bread in the face of hunger.

But whatever form it takes that energy of love, that flow of blessing, is not just for you or for me alone. Just as the disciples passed out what had been given to them we are to share what is given to us. For the most miraculous thing about the Kingdom of Heaven is that the best way to experience it - the abundance, the blessing, the love - is to share it. It is in the sharing that it is multiplied. And as we let that energy of God’s love fill us and flow through us we will find that, lo and behold, what we have turns out to be not just enough, but more than enough with leftovers to boot.