Our yearly wake-up call. November 29, 2020 The Rev. David M. Stoddart

Isaiah 64:1-9; 1 Cor. 1:3-9; Mark 13:24-37

How come we often think we know how a story should go, and yet get it completely wrong? A man had two sons. One worked the farm and did what he was supposed to do while the other left home and squandered his father’s money. So the father disowned that son and punished him severely. No, wait . . . actually, he threw a party for him. The owner of a vineyard went out to hire laborers. Some worked all day, and some only worked one hour, so of course the ones who worked all day got paid more. No, wait . . . actually, they all got paid the same amount. Jesus is always telling stories that throw us: we think we know how they should go, but they still manage to surprise us. The story of his life is surprising. An upstart rabbi from the provinces is tortured to death by the mightiest empire in the world because he threatens the status quo. So after ending his life in failure, he is quickly forgotten and his followers are never heard from again. No, wait . . . actually, the story has a very different ending.

So let me tell you another story. Human beings kept screwing up, so to punish us God disappeared from view and left us to our fate. Now the only way you can get on God’s good side is to have faith in Jesus. Those who have faith will be forgiven, while everyone else will be punished in hell forever. It’s a popular story, a bestseller even, but except for that part about humans screwing up, it’s completely wrong. Why so many people believe it I don’t know, but the readings today tell us a different story. Let’s begin with this idea that God disappears from view to punish us. Our first reading comes from the end of the book of Isaiah, and was written by a prophet trying to make sense of exile and suffering. He realizes that God no longer seems to appear in dramatic, earth-shattering ways. But listen to what he says: because you hid yourself we transgressed. Not, we transgressed so you hid yourself to punish us, but you hid yourself and so we transgressed. It’s because people could not or would not see God that they sinned. 

Hold on to that for a second, and let’s address this idea that it’s our faith that saves us. That’s not what Paul tells the Corinthians today when he writes, He will also strengthen you to the end, so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful. It’s not our faith that saves us or makes us blameless: it is God’s faithfulness. As Paul writes in Second Timothy: even if we are faithless, [God] remains faithful (2 Tim. 2:13). 

So here’s the real story. God does not always reveal Godself in earth-shattering ways, but because human beings fail to see God in the ordinary events of life, we hurt ourselves and we hurt others. But God’s unconditional love and utter faithfulness, fully revealed in Jesus Christ, will restore our vision and ultimately save us all. God has not left to punish us, nor are we left to somehow conjure up enough faith to save ourselves. That is not how the story goes. And since we don’t have to get on God’s good side, not even by having enough faith, what are we to do? Well, just what Jesus says in the Gospel: Keep awake.

We begin Advent today, our yearly wake up call. When we are spiritually sluggish or asleep, our ego-driven minds, obsessed as they are with self-justification and punishment, can weave nightmarish tales that are not true and do not reflect the love and faithfulness of God. So we get a shot of spiritual espresso today, with Jesus telling us, Wake up! This Gospel passage uses apocalyptic imagery, which is strange and disturbing. But then again, given a global pandemic with hundreds of thousands of people dead and millions out of work, with racial injustice abounding, global warming on the rise, and the gap between the haves and the have nots growing ever larger, maybe apocalyptic language is appropriate. In the midst of catastrophe, Jesus comes. At the end of time, yes, but also every day. He promises to be with us always, and his Spirit, the Holy Spirit of God, is continually coming, continually flowing. Do you see it?

In this time of social distancing, I find my own awareness heightened. As I listen to some of the pain our parishioners are experiencing, I feel the presence of Christ who identifies so completely with all those who suffer. We’re all zoomed out, and yet during this crazy time when we can’t be together in person, people are coming to worship and joining our small groups literally from across the country and around the world. Even now, Jesus is building community. This pandemic has stretched our society and exposed some glaring injustices, both racial and economic. But in the voices of those crying out for the powerless, I hear the voice of God and feel the compassion of Christ. 

Jesus comes into a hurting world. He did it two thousand years ago, and he’s doing it now. God is forever faithful. We’re not abandoned and we don’t have to keep telling ourselves stories of despair. There is only one story Jesus tells, and it is the ever surprising story of Good News. So keep awake, and see that story unfolding before your eyes.

COOS Sunday Worship 11/29/20

 

COOS Sunday Worship

November 29, 2020

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The invitation to give thanks is not limited. November 25, 2020 The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

 

Psalm 118:1, Luke 17:11-19

Picture with me a Peanuts comic strip. Lucy is feeling sorry for herself and she laments, "My life is a drag. I'm completely fed up. I've never felt so low in my life."

 Her little brother Linus tries to console her and says, "Lucy, when you're in a mood like this, you should try to think of things you have to be thankful for; in other words, count your blessings."

 “Ha!” Lucy scoffs. “That's a good one! I could count my blessings on one finger! I've never had anything and I never will have anything. I don't get half the breaks that other people do. Nothing ever goes right for me! And you talk about counting blessings! You talk about being thankful! What do I have to be thankful for?"

  "Well,” Linus ventures, “for one thing, you have a little brother who loves you."

 With that, Lucy runs and hugs her little brother Linus as she cries tears of joy, and while she's hugging him tightly, Linus says, "Every now and then, I say the right thing."

 And right now I'm going to say the right thing to you: You have a God who loves you.

 Now I realize that that news doesn’t necessarily fix everything. It doesn’t magically change the reality of our lives. This year has been hard not just for some of us, but for all of us. Pandemic, politics, natural disasters, the continuing struggle for equity and justice, economic hardships, separation, loss, grief, anxiety...the list is long. Everyone has a story to tell. And add to that, as we enter into the holiday season, all the hopes and dreams and expectations that will not come to pass. It has been a hard year.

 Yet even so, whatever the situation, there is more. There is something foundational that holds us. Something that is greater and stronger and surer than anything of this world. Something that sustains us at all times, in all places. And that something is Love.

 Psalm 118 puts it this way, Give thanks to the Lord for he is good; God’s love endures forever.

 When it’s another day at home and feelings of anxiety and loneliness overwhelm...Give thanks to the Lord for he is good; God’s love endures forever.

 When the sky is blue and the beauty of nature fills the senses...Give thanks to the Lord for he is good; God’s love endures forever.

 When struggling with a difficult relationship that seems impossible to resolve...Give thanks to the Lord for he is good; God’s love endures forever.

 When someone reaches out in care and concern with a call, a text, an email...Give thanks to the Lord for he is good; God’s love endures forever.

 When health is failing, when a diagnosis is grim, when death overcomes...Give thanks to the Lord for he is good; God’s love endures forever.

 Whatever this moment in life holds for you, whatever is going on, this also is true - God loves you and that love endures forever. It will never falter or fail. It is always there for you. Outward circumstances may not change, but if we are willing, God’s love can change our inward spirit. And for that we can give thanks.

 And what’s amazing about that is that as we do so, in the act of giving thanks, we open ourselves up for the Holy Spirit to transform us. We don’t give thanks and praise to God because God needs it. We give thanks and praise to God because we need it. The natural flow of life always begins with God pouring His love/Her love into our hearts. Our ongoing task is to notice. But that’s hard because our nature is to get used to things. We become so accustomed to the way things are that we stop seeing things. But when we seek to give thanks, when we intentionally practice gratitude, it puts us in a mind to notice and make visible once again.

 So I ask you, where is God’s love being poured into your life right now? What people, experiences, and things in your life are helping or supporting you in some way? Maybe those blessings are easy to count or maybe not. Perhaps at this moment God’s love is pouring into your life with the simple, but most profound gift of breath. For life and existence is a pure gift of love. And as we come to see all the ways that God’s love flows into our lives what naturally wells up is a feeling of appreciation and gratitude - a feeling which is best expressed and not kept inside.

 We see this in the story of the ten lepers. All of them were healed. Only one, however, saw, noticed, let what happened sink in enough to turn back to give thanks. And in doing so that one was not only healed in body but also in soul.

 As we celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday this year, it will likely be different than all others. For most of us it will be smaller, quieter, less than what we would like. Some, I know, will celebrate alone. Please remember that it is just a meal. There will be other meals, other celebrations, other times of togetherness, that we will enjoy both in this world and the next. We know this as people of faith. And we know that the invitation to give thanks is not limited to one particular meal or one particular day. As people of faith we know that it is a good and right and joyful thing to give thanks always and everywhere. And as we do the outpouring of our gratitude makes us well. You have a God that loves you. So let us Give thanks to the Lord for he is good; God’s love endures forever.

Thanksgiving Eve Service 11/25/20

 

Thanksgiving Eve Service

November 25, 2020

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Midweek message from Fr. David 11/25/20

 

Midweek Message from Fr. David

November 25, 2020

We make a difference. November 22, 2020 The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

Matthew 25:31-46

Early on in the pandemic, one of our parishioners, I’ll call her Laura, wanted to make a difference. So she volunteered with a local organization to deliver food to those in need. One of the people Laura delivered food to was Ellen. Ellen was disabled and lived alone. And whenever Laura came by Ellen always wanted to talk. So, naturally, Laura spent some extra time chatting with her. Soon, though, Ellen discontinued the food service, but she kept in touch with Laura. She would sometimes run errands for Ellen and was happy to drive Ellen to various appointments. But as the months went by Ellen’s needs continued to grow. Laura would get texts from Ellen sometimes just to say hi, other times expressing her loneliness, eventually calling Laura her BFF - her Best Friend Forever. When Ellen mentioned that what she really needed a health care agent in case she became incapacitated that’s when Laura called me. She felt torn between wanting to help and, truthfully, wanting to stop.

Looking through the lens of the parable about the sheep and the goats, I wonder, how would Laura be sorted? Because of the help she provided Ellen would Laura be considered a blessed sheep? But what if she stopped? Would Jesus move her from his right to his left and make her an accursed goat? That can’t be right. Because God knows better than anyone that people don’t neatly fall into simple categories. No one is completely good or bad, right or wrong, sheep or goat. Rather the truth is that we are both. At least I am. Sure there are times when I do feed and clothe and welcome and care and visit someone in need. And there are times that I don’t. In fact, I know I have behaved as a sheep and a goat to some of the same people on different occasions. For the least of these, as Jesus calls them, are not just strangers who pass in and out of our lives never to be seen again. The least of these is anyone with a need whether it be physical, emotional or spiritual. We live our days surrounded by the least of these and yet we are often unaware.

One of the truths that this parable reveals to us is that whether we know it or know what we do in our daily lives matter. We make a difference. And that’s good news, isn’t it? Don’t we all want to make a difference in this world? But the bad news, or maybe I should say, the more sobering news is that we may not know if the difference we are making is for good or for ill. We may mean well, but that doesn’t mean we get it right. There’s always plenty to confess when we consider both what we have done and left undone. So this parable should keep us humble. But in addition to that the story offers us a glimpse of what we often can’t see with the naked eye, that is, that whenever we encounter someone’s need we are encountering the holy. We are encountering Christ. Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these...you did it to me.

But what gets lost in translation - literally - is that Jesus is not just speaking to us as separate individuals. What we miss in our English bibles is that the “you” throughout the story is plural. What Jesus really says is, “I was hungry and you [plural, as in “ya’ll”] gave me food, I was thirsty and [ya’ll] gave me something to drink.” Conversely, “I was a stranger and [ya’ll] did not welcome me, naked and [ya’ll] did not give me clothing…” One on one acts of mercy are good and right. But using our collective power and influence to address the needs of others is just as much a part of our calling and should not be ignored. Just as [ya’ll] did it to one of the least of these…[ya’ll] did it to me.

And the only way we, as individuals and as a community, can ever hope to make a positive difference in the lives of others is to pray for and be open to God’s help. As we surrender to the power of God’s love and mercy in our own lives we are then able to let that love and mercy flow through us into the lives of others, the least of these, whomever they may be. In Laura’s case, she discerned that the most loving thing to do for Ellen was to create healthy boundaries. She still reaches out to Ellen in measured ways while encouraging her to connect with other resources in the community. It’s not perfect. Nonetheless, it is holy for Christ is present. And Christ is merciful to us all.

 

 

 

 

COOS Sunday Worship 11/22/20

 

COOS Sunday Worship

November 22, 2020

Order of Worship

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Midweek message from Fr. David 11/18/20

 

Midweek message from Fr. David

November 18, 2020

Practical wisdom for living. November 15, 2020 The Rev. David M. Stoddart

Matthew 25:14-30

Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed

Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed

Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need

I say love, it is a flower, and you, its only seed

It’s the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance

It’s the dream afraid of waking, that never takes the chance

It’s the one who won't be taken, who cannot seem to give

And the soul afraid of dying, that never learns to live

The Rose. The words are by Amanda Mcbroom, but most of us know it as a song sung by Bette Midler. That song has come to my mind as I have sat with the Gospel this week. If it’s true that the parables of Jesus act as spiritual hand grenades, then this one today packs a lot of explosive power. And what jumps out at me is that third slave who says, I was afraid — afraid of his master, afraid of taking any chances, afraid of screwing up, afraid of failure, or who knows, maybe afraid of success. But fear is what drives him, and the results are terrible. Now we can get all bent out of shape and say what a mean master he has and that God would never do such a thing, but we’d be barking up the wrong tree. This is not an allegory or a theology lesson: it’s a parable, a story meant to shake us up. This third slave lives in fear, and it doesn’t make his life better: it just results in more fear, until at the end he finds himself in the outer darkness, weeping and gnashing his teeth.

The parable hits hard in part because it is so easy for us to live in fear. And nothing is so crippling as living in fear. I’ve experienced it in my own life, and I’ve witnessed it in the lives of others. I’ve seen people paralyzed by their fear of what others might think of them if they speak their mind or live out their core beliefs. Fear of those who are different than we are runs rampant in our society. Lots of people are afraid of change. I’ve known people who would not let themselves get close to others because they were terrified they might get hurt. And while there are times when fear is understandable and even justified, living in fear on a regular basis inevitably diminishes us. Fear breeds more fear, and leads only to isolation and despair. 

It’s the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance

It’s the dream afraid of waking, that never takes the chance

It’s the one who won't be taken, who cannot seem to give

And the soul afraid of dying, that never learns to live

The Bible tells us over and over again not to be afraid, but the simple commandment, “Do not fear!” won’t suffice. The Bible also offers a remedy. And the remedy for fear is not steely resolve or blind faith or sheer recklessness. There is only one antidote to fear, and that is love. The First Letter of John puts it like this, God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them . . . There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. (1 John 4:16b, 18).

I know this is true. It’s when I feel most loved, when I am most aware of God’s love and the love of people around me, that I am most courageous. When I am filled with love, I am fearless. It’s when I feel isolated, cut off from God or from the people closest to me that I feel most afraid. And because that’s the case, when I do feel afraid, I know the answer is not to try to gear myself up to be brave — that doesn’t work. What works is to allow myself to be in God’s presence and to remember the love of God that continually surrounds me and fills me, as it surrounds and fills all of us. For as Paul says, God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us (Rom. 5:5). This is not academic theology: this is practical wisdom for living. Love and love alone sets us free: fear constricts and binds us, but love is what lets our spirits grow and our hearts expand. Loving doesn’t mean bad things will never happen. Loving means we will not live in fear.

Think of what you are most afraid of today. Consider how it holds you back or even cripples you. You can give into the fear, bury yourself, and refuse to take any chances, but there is another way: ask to know the love of God right in the midst of that fear. And I mean ask for it and look for it. If you have experienced the love of God before, remind yourself of what that feels like. And if you have never in your life known God’s love, be open enough to experience it. You might try repeating verses like “”God’s love has been poured into our hearts” or imagining Jesus saying to you, “I love you” or just keep praying, “God, I am open to your love,” If we open up even a tiny amount, and if we seek even a little bit, the Holy Spirit will find a way to touch us with love — and begin to set us free from fear and set us free to live.

Do you remember how the song ends? It goes like this:

When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long

And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong

Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows

Lies the seed, that with the sun's love in the spring becomes the rose

COOS Sunday Worship 11/15/20

COOS Sunday Worship

November 15, 2020

Order of Worship

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Midweek message from Fr. David 11/11/20

 

Midweek message from Fr. David

November 11, 2020

COOS Sunday Worship 11/8/20

 

COOS Sunday Worship

November 8, 2020

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Continually be present to God. November 8, 2020 The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

 

Matthew 25:1-13

I like fairy tale endings but that’s often not what we get - in life or in the stories that Jesus tells. Like today, ten bridesmaids take their lamps and go out to meet the bridegroom. But he’s delayed. And as the wait drags on the lamps burn down to the point that half of the waiting bridesmaids don’t have enough oil to last. So they run to the store to get more. But in the meantime, the bridegroom arrives and the party begins. And when the other maids return they are shut out of the celebration.

 Over the years I can’t count the number of times people have told me that they feel sorry for those bridesmaids. That they don’t like the way this parable ends. And well they shouldn’t because this “One Strike and You're Out” policy is completely antithetical to the core message of our faith. The good news as witnessed to in the totality of Scripture, tradition, and experience that God is always, always giving us second chances. For God’s way is a way of mercy and love and grace. And what God longs for, and even dies for, is forgiveness and reconciliation and communion. So of course anyone who is paying attention should push back on the idea that it’s ok that some bridesmaids were shut out from the celebration

But maybe all that’s a distraction for the real point that Jesus is trying to make. Because remember he introduces the story by saying, The kingdom of heaven will be like this. Meaning that the kingdom of heaven as revealed in this story will not come on cue. That there is waiting involved. And that we would be wise, like the bridesmaids, to have some extra oil on hand to see us through. Because waits can be unpredictable.

And don’t we know it. Whether we are waiting for final election results. Or waiting for justice [to] roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream, to quote from our reading from the prophet Amos (5:24). Or waiting for a coronavirus vaccine and our world to get back to some semblance of normal. Waiting is hard, full of uncertainty, and oftentimes, anxiety producing. We are those bridesmaids waiting for the groom who has yet arrive

So how do we do it? How do we wait wisely with extra oil for our lamps, for our lives? Well Jesus says that we are to keep awake. Now obviously he doesn’t mean that literally. Even in the story all of the bridesmaids fall asleep. Nor does Jesus mean that we are to live in a constant state of extreme alertness - that is unsustainable and unhealthy. Rather when Jesus says keep awake he’s telling us to continually be present to God. To be open and keenly aware of  the truth that God has been and is always with us. Keeping awake is to recognize that Christ is continually present through all of our waiting - even our anxious waiting. And by grounding ourselves in that truth through our thoughts, our words, and our deeds we become more and more awake to the oil that is already there for us. The sustaining oil that is always flowing in our hearts through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It’s a holy oil that not only sustains us as we wait but empowers us - empowers us, as in the words of the prophet Micah, to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with our God (6:8).  For when we do that our actions reveal what all of us are truly waiting for.

Because ultimately it’s more than a particular political party to win or for certain laws to be enacted or for an effective vaccine to be created. Those all may be well and good, but if that is the only thing we are waiting for, the only thing in which we put our hope and trust, we will be disappointed.

As Christians what we wait for is something much greater, much surer than anything this world can offer. Our wait is ultimately for the coming of the kingdom of heaven when God’s reign of love and justice are fully realized in our world. We may not know the day or the hour, but Jesus assures us that the day will come. And when it comes the story of the bridesmaids and all of our stories will be fulfilled. None will be shut out. And all of us, all of God’s people, all of God’s creation, will experience the fullness of love, forgiveness, reconciliation, and communion. Together we will join in the greatest celebration of all - greater than any fairy tale ending. So keep awake. The wait is worth it.

 

 

 

 

           

 

 

 

 

 

           

 

Midweek message from Fr. David 11/4/20

Midweek message from Fr. David

November 4, 2020 

Let go. November 1, 2020 The Rev. David M. Stoddart

Matthew 5:1-12

So imagine you are in one of those cartoons that we’ve all seen: you climb up a steep mountain until finally you come to an old holy man with a long beard, sitting in front of a cave. You could ask him, “What is the meaning of life?” or “When will this pandemic finally be over?” but instead you ask him, “What must I do to become a saint?” What do you suppose he would say? Would he impose austere practices on you, with lots of prayer, fasting, and self-denial? Would he demand that you perform heroic acts of virtue? I don’t think so. As the years go by, I become more and more convinced that what this imaginary holy man would say is simply, “Let go.”

The scenario I describe might be cartoonish, but the question is not. According to the New Testament, anyone who follows Jesus is a hagios, a saint. Whether we own it or not, whether we think much about it or not, all of us who believe in Christ are called to be saints. And if the words of the Gospel today, the very beginning of Jesus’ great Sermon on the Mount, are any guide, then a saint is someone who lets go, who does not cling to the things that people so often cling to. Blessed are the poor in spirit . . . they do not cling to status and privilege. Blessed are those who mourn . . . they do not cling to the way things were. Blessed are the meek . . . they do not cling to power. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness . . . they do not cling to the status quo. Blessed are the merciful . . . they do not cling to grievances. Blessed are the peacemakers . . . they do not cling to violence. Blessed are those who are persecuted . . . they do not cling to safety or even their own life. And the great key to the Beatitudes comes right smack in the middle: Blessed are the pure in heart . . . the only thing they cling to is God.

I know how challenging such a message might sound at first, because we are all so attached: we’re attached to our families, friends, and loved ones. We’re attached to our jobs, our homes, our possessions. We’re attached to our money and our pleasures, we’re attached to our reputation and self-image. And obviously, Jesus doesn't want us to stop loving: he loves abundantly and teaches us to do the same. And he never promotes a dour, joyless existence: he’s always going to dinner parties and banquets, so much so that his enemies accuse him of being a glutton and a drunkard. But what allows Jesus to love so freely and enjoy life so fully is that he has an open-handed, non-grasping way 0f living. He doesn’t cling to anything except his Father’s love, so he is open to everything. In the words of Second Corinthians, he has nothing and yet possesses everything (2 Cor. 6:11). And Jesus, our Savior, calls us to live like that.

This is not mission impossible: Jesus isn’t setting up some unobtainable goal which few will ever achieve. He’s teaching ordinary people, people like us, how to be happy. In fact the Greek word that we translate in this passage as “blessed” — macarios — literally means “happy.” Happy are the poor in spirit; happy are the meek , happy are the merciful. The less we cling, the less we live close-fisted lives, the happier we will be. Saints are not perfect people, but for all their flaws, they know this is true.

I think, deep down, we all know it’s true, even if we do resist it. I’m still learning this lesson, but I can honestly say that letting go of some things has helped me be happier and more loving. When I was growing up, for example, I used to cling to outward signs of success, like good grades, awards, and titles. But it was exhausting, and the more I began to let go of that as a young adult, the better I felt. I have a strong need to always be right, which is obnoxious. But I really am happier when I let go of that need. I’m not always right: I don’t always have to be right. Like many people, I struggle with the need for control, but the reality is that I am not in control of many things: I can’t control the people I love, I can’t control my parishioners, I can’t control many of the circumstances that befall me, I can’t control what other people think of me. When I surrender some of that need for control, it is easier to love, easier to be happy, easier just to be. Of course I don’t do any of that perfectly, and I fail much of the time, but I’ve done it enough to know that it’s true.

So what about you? What do you need to let go? Past regrets? Future fears? Obsessing about money? Worrying about what other people  think? Anger? Envy? Despair? And what would it be like to at least begin letting go of it?

Jesus clearly calls us to be less grasping and more open-handed and open-hearted. I don’t think that’s easy; I think it is the work of a lifetime, but it will make us happier, more loving, more Christ-like people. And all of us, filled with the Holy Spirit, can take steps right now to move in that direction. Even the smallest step matters, beginning with asking for God’s help. So fellow saints of God, what steps could you take, what burdens  could you begin to let go of this week?

COOS Sunday Worship November 1, 2020

 

COOS Sunday Worship

All Saints

November 1, 2020

Order of Worship

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