Sunday, February 28, 2021

COOS Sunday Worship 2/28/21

 


February 28, 2021

(may be printed)

Let go and live. February 28, 2021. The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

 


Mark 8:31-38

If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves, take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.

Whenever I hear this verse first I shudder and then, believe it or not, I think of raccoons. One raccoon, in particular, from a book I read back in grade school called Where the Red Fern Grows. It’s a story about a young boy, Billy, whose life growing up in rural America during the Depression revolves around the hunting of raccoons. Initially through much grit and determination Billy saves up to buy two coonhound puppies which he intends to train into the best raccoon hunters trackers in the area. But in order to do this Billy needs a raccoon pellet to teach his dogs the scent. So he devises a trap. And the way that the trap worked has stayed with me lo these many years.

First, Billy goes out into the woods and finds a log with a hole in it. Then into the hole he drops a piece of shiny tin. Next Billy takes a bunch of nails and hammers them in around the opening of the hole slanted in opposite directions to one another. And that’s the whole trap.

In time, a raccoon comes along and sees the shiny tin at the bottom of the hole and wants to have it. So the raccoon reaches in and grabs hold. But now with a closed fist the animal is stuck. The nails make the hole too small for a fist to get back through. At any time, though, the raccoon has the power to get free if he was willing to let go of the shiny tin. But no he won’t do that. So the poor animal stays with his hand stuck in the log until Billy comes along and captures it. The raccoon loses his life because he refuses to let go. 

Isn’t this what Jesus is talking about when he says, For those who want to save their life will lose it? But of course, he’s not speaking of raccoons. He’s talking about us. It seems to be in our human nature to be tempted to hold onto the shiny things of this world for dear life. Now what looks shiny and attractive to one person may not look so to another. It is in the eye of the beholder. But the usual things that we often grasp for are things like success, control, wealth, security, to name a few. Whatever it is, though, we cling to it with the misguided notion that it will save us, that somehow it will bring us life. Yet the more we insist that this is what we need, that it’s what we have to have, the more trapped we become. We may think that by holding on we are gaining the whole world when in reality what we are doing is forfeiting life. The true and abundant life that God desires for each one of us. The true and abundant life that is found in following Jesus.

If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. Now on the surface this doesn’t necessarily sound like a path to life. That’s what causes me to shudder - even though I know I’m misguided in my thinking. Because the denying of self which Jesus speaks of here isn’t meant to be some sort of harsh, self-punishment. His intent here, and in all of the gospel, is to bring life. The self-denial that Jesus is talking about is a surrendering of our small, insecure selves. Which, in order to do so, involves letting go of all the false shiny things that we hold onto thinking that they serve us, but in reality, they do not. For when we are willing to deny ourselves, that is, to let go and surrender it is then that we actually become free. Our lives are saved in the sense that we are more fully able to embrace and experience that which truly shines - the light of the world - the love of God made manifest in Christ.

But this lesson about letting go and surrendering our lives in order to save them is not accomplished in one moment of hearing or one act of doing. It is a lifelong process. The disciples certainly model that reality as they continue to bumble their way down the path of following Christ. Their attempts at holding onto false shiny things will continually get them off track. As you may recall in the not too distant future they will argue about which one of them is the greatest - grabbing for the shiny thing of success. A couple of them will attempt to negotiate for the best seats in the house, that is those next to Jesus in the heavenly kingdom - again, grasping for shiny status. All will abandon Jesus when he needs them most - as they hold onto personal safety. And, of course, Peter will outright deny Jesus three times - clinging to security.

It’s not a smooth path. But it’s the one that most of us who seek to follow Jesus seem to take. No sooner do we let go of one shiny thing that we are tempted to grasp hold of another. Nonetheless, Jesus never gives up on the disciples nor on any of us. So today, with God’s help, let go and live.

 

 

Sunday, February 21, 2021

As we are. February 21, 2021 The Rev. David M. Stoddart

 


Mark 1:9-15

Did you catch that? And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him. Right after his divine status as God’s Son is revealed, Jesus is driven into the desert to discover just how human he is. Unlike Matthew and Luke, Mark doesn’t give us any particular temptation stories, so we can only imagine what horrors Jesus dealt with while he hungered under the hot sun of the Judean wilderness. Maybe he was tempted to misuse his power; maybe he was tempted to doubt his identity or question his mission. But in my mind that’s way too tame. He was with the wild beasts, and not just the ones prowling in the desert, but the ones inhabiting his own heart. He must have grappled with selfishness, greed, lust, and anger. He must have had bleak moments when he wanted to give into despair and give up. He surely knew what it felt like to be frail and vulnerable. He wouldn’t be human if he didn’t experience all of that. And yet in the midst of it, the angels waited on him. I cannot stress this enough: right when Jesus is weakest and most human, God loves him and cares for him. And only after that happens can he begin his public ministry. Only then can he say with authority, The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.

So, what is the good news? We better follow all the rules and obey all the laws? That’s hardly good news, and in fact it’s not news at all: people had believed that for centuries — and the results speak for themselves. Is the good news that Jesus died for our sins? Well, in this story that hasn’t happened yet, and the people first hearing this message had no way of knowing it would happen. No, the good news is Jesus himself. He walks out of the wilderness literally embodying the Gospel: the kingdom of God has come near. God meets us in all our limitations and loves us in all our humanity.

That is not an intellectual idea for Jesus — it’s a lived reality: he just soaked that message up while he struggled in the desert. That’s why the Letter to the Hebrews can say, We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are (Heb. 4:15). But here’s the amazing thing: just as Jesus shares fully in our humanity, so we can share fully in his divinity, in his intimacy with the Holy One he calls Abba, “Daddy.” We don’t need to be perfect or flawless, or even just better than our neighbor; we don’t need to earn it — we can’t. God just loves us as we are. God meets us where we are. No matter what. This is why it’s called good news. It’s so simple. So freeing. So awesome.

And so inspiring for our mission to the world, a world we are supposed to encounter like Jesus does, with compassion and mercy. Except that doesn’t always happen. A few years ago, the Barna Research Group did a sobering study of what young people ages 16-29 think of Christians. Do you know which adjective most respondents used to describe Christians? Loving? Nope. Compassionate? Nope. Merciful? Nope. Helpful? Nope. Marginally nice? NO! Almost ninety percent of those surveyed said that Christians are . . . wait for it . . . judgmental. And can you blame them? You see the news. So many people who claim the title “Christian” define themselves by what they’re against. We hear it all the time. “Christians” are against abortion. “Christians” are against gay marriage. “Christians” are against any sex outside of marriage. “Christians” are against full equality for women. “Christians” are against secular culture. “Christians” are against Muslims. “Christians” are against change. “Christians” are against the world. Sometimes I wonder why in God’s name would the world want anything to do with us? Too often the church’s message has not been, For God so loved the world, but rather, “God doesn’t love as you are at all. In fact, God is disgusted and angry, so you damn well better change. Or else.” At the risk of stating the obvious, that is, um, not good news.

What if we took this Gospel seriously and actually allowed God to love us as we are, with no strings attached? In the Gospels, Jesus hangs out with sinners all the time and enjoys them. He doesn’t require that they stop being sinners, but his unconditional love changes people. Maybe if we experienced God’s unwavering mercy and full acceptance of us in our worst moments, then we would extend mercy and acceptance to others in their worst moments. Maybe if we realized that we are all flawed and fallible people who are infinitely cherished as we are, then we would stop hating and demonizing others as they are. Maybe if we knew in our hearts that God does not condemn us, then we would stop judging and condemning others. Maybe if we took the Gospel seriously, the church would be the light of the world. If you are looking for an act of metanoia, “changing your mind,” to engage in this Lent, how about that one. What if we acknowledged every weakness, flaw, and sin in our lives and accepted God’s complete forgiveness and unconditional love? What if we let that love touch every aspect of our lives, including the way we relate to others? In other words, what if we actually practiced what we preach? Then the Good News would really be good news; and we would be happier people; and the world would be a happier place.

 

 


COOS Sunday Worship February 21, 2021

 


January 21, 2021

(may be printed out)

Wednesday, February 17, 2021

Change your mind. Ash Wednesday 2021. The Rev. David M. Stoddart

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21


What is this self that constantly craves the approval of others? Look at how I’m fasting, look at how much money I’m giving away, look at how fervently I pray. Look at me and be impressed! It’s almost comical, but we are in no position to laugh. Have we not all been guilty of the same thing? Look at the house I live in, look at the car I drive, look at the clothes I wear! Don’t you feel jealous? Look at the degrees I’ve earned and the awards I’ve received! Don’t you admire me? Look at how successful I am. Look at the good works that I do. Look at how well my children are turning out. And it doesn’t even have to be as overt or dramatic as that. Look at how normal and respectable I am, look at how I fit in and belong. Or look at how distinctive I am. Or even, look at  how sick I am, how needy I am. Just look at me. Tell me that I have value. Show me that I matter.


What is this self? It’s the self that needs to die. Jesus doesn’t condemn us for slavishly craving the approval of others: he just wants to set us free from it. Think for a moment — it’s Ash Wednesday, so think honestly and bravely — of how much of your life you have devoted to trying to win the good opinion of others. Think of how much time, energy, effort, and anxiety you have expended on this. Think, if you dare, of how much it has distracted you from living abundantly, how much it has prevented you from fully loving God, loving others, loving yourself. And then imagine a life where you didn’t need to impress anyone, didn’t need to get affirmation from anyone. Imagine the freedom you would have.


Jesus says you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free. So here’s the truth: we don’t need to live this way, with our ego-driven selves constantly gauging what other people think about us. Certainly we are communal creatures, and there are healthy ways we need each other. But while we are interdependent and connected in love, we are not supposed to be codependent and bound together in anxiety, unable to feel good about ourselves unless others affirm our value. That leads to spiritual sickness and death, and that is what Jesus saves us from. 


But while that’s the life we need to lose and the self that needs to die, we don’t need to kill it. There is no violence in the Gospel. Jesus simply directs us to our true self, which is united to God in love and doesn’t need anyone else to give it value. This is the self that Jesus so beautifully embodies. It is the buried treasure within all of us, the pearl of great price we already own. It is the secret that sets us free, if we will just see it: Go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.


As I’ve said to you many times, the word we translate as repentance is metanoia. It doesn’t mean feel bad for your sins. It means change your mind. So the first and best act of metanoia we can do this Lent is to see ourselves as we truly are. And one crucial way to do that is by acknowledging all the ways we try to win the approval of others, and all the ways that stops us from actually loving. I’m embarrassed by how much of my life I have tried to impress people, and I know that when I am doing that, I’m not loving them, and I’m certainly not loving myself, much less God. Now, we don’t need to do anything about it: we don’t need to condemn it or justify it or fix it. We just have to see it for what it is: we need others to show us we’ are loved and valued because so often we don’t feel like we’re loved and valued as we are. We’re out of touch with our center, with God. We just need to own it.


And then, having done that, spend some time with your soul, your real self, your Christ self. The only Lenten discipline that has any merit is one that helps us connect with our true self and with God. If we do something to punish ourselves or earn God’s favor by suffering, we’re wasting our time. God doesn’t need that, and neither do we. So if you want to fast to stop stuffing your needs and anxieties with food and create some space for God, great. If you want to give time and money away because such generosity helps you remember who you really are in Christ, great. If you want to spend more time praying and deliberately being with God, great. The invitation is to know yourself as a precious child of a loving Creator, enfolded in mercy, infinity cherished. Nobody else’s opinion matters.


The more we know that in our heart and soul, the more our false ego self can fade away, and the freer we will be to love and be loved. Those hypocrites in the Gospel today? They’re not evil: they’re just ignorant. Like so many people in the Gospel stories, like so many of us, they’re blind. They don’t see the truth. I am a baby in the spiritual life, a beginner like all of us, but I have experienced enough of this to know it’s true. I am much freer today than I was ten years ago; God willing, I will be much freer ten years from now than I am today. Growth is up to God. Our job is simple: we just need to repent, to open our eyes and see the truth. The Holy Spirit will do the rest.


Midweek message from Fr. David. Ash Wednesday 2021

 



Ash Wednesday 2021

COOS Ash Wednesday Service February 17, 2021



February 17, 2021

(may be printed)

(may be printed)

 

Sunday, February 14, 2021

COOS Sunday Worship February 14, 2021

 


February 14, 2021

(may be printed out)

February 14, 2021 Sermon from The Rt. Rev. Susan Goff

 


Sunday, February 14, 2021
Last Sunday After Epiphany
The Rt. Rev. Susan Goff, Bishop Suffragan and Ecclesiastical Authority

Dear Friends in Christ Jesus, every day, the news is full of twists and turns, surprises and changes. While the continuing pandemic shifted our patterns of daily living and seemed to slow us for a time, changes keep coming at breakneck speed. I record this sermon six days before you are seeing and hearing it, wondering what changes will come in the interim. We are learning to expect the unexpected, and to see our expectations turned on their heads.

That learning is training ground for all that we heard in the Gospel today. Because this narrative and, in fact, the whole of Jesus’ life, tell a story of expectations turned around as God does new and surprising things.

One of my favorite hymns, The Canticle of Turning, is all about God turning things around.

My soul cries out with a joyful shout
that the God of my heart is great,
And my spirit sings of the wondrous things
that you bring to the one who waits.
You fixed your sight on the servant's plight,
and my weakness you did not spurn,
So from east to west shall my name be blest.
Could the world be about to turn?

The turning of the world began when the angel declared to Mary that she would bear the Son of God. Mary shared the news with her relative Elizabeth, then sang words of praise that we call the Magnificat, words that are paraphrased in The Canticle of Turning.

The turning of the world continued when Mary’s boy child was born, and when he grew up and began to teach. God is coming, Jesus proclaimed. “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand.” Those were the first words Jesus preached. God’s world of perfect justice is coming. And when perfect justice is established on earth, everything will be turned on its head. The world as we’ve known it, this beautiful but broken and divided world, will be perfected. And a perfected world, will be so different from what we experience now that it will be as if the world has come to an end, and a marvelous new age will have begun.

My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears,
For the dawn draws near,
And the world is about to turn.

Jesus’ starting place for fulfilling that promise was the heart-turning love of God. Jesus had deep compassion, God’s compassion, for all people. In love, he healed the sick. He gave sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf. He made the lame to walk. He forgave sinners.

Jesus began with love, and he multiplied love when he invited others into community with him. Jesus didn't try to go it alone. He never thought that, because he was the Son of God, he didn't need anyone else. He rejected the sin of rugged individualism and established a community, a beloved community of friends from all walks of life.

Though I am small, my God, my all,
you work great things in me.
And your mercy will last from the depths of the past
to the end of the age to be.
Your very name puts the proud to shame,
and to those who would for you yearn,
You will show your might, put the strong to flight,
for the world is about to turn.

Jesus sent his followers into the world in love. He empowered them to do the very work he himself was doing. The healing of the world, Jesus showed them, is not only about healing physical and mental illnesses in individuals, but about healing broken relationships and broken communities. The healing of the world requires the healing of corrupt systems.

And so Jesus would go to the halls of power. He would go to Jerusalem, the center of religious leadership, the center of economic power, the center of political authority in his day. And in Jerusalem, he would confront the powerful for the sake of the poor and marginalized and dispossessed.

From the halls of power to the fortress tower,
not a stone will be left on stone.
Let the king beware for your justice tears
every tyrant from his throne.
The hungry poor shall weep no more,
for the food they can never earn;
There are tables spread, every mouth be fed,
for the world is about to turn.

Jesus would confront and challenge the powerful with God's truth. He knew there would be a terrible price to pay, the price of his own life. Jesus knew because he’d read in scripture what happened to the prophets who spoke God’s truth to those who didn’t want to hear it. And he knew because he could read the present.

So on the day we remember today, the day of the transfiguration, Jesus took his friends with him to pray for strength to face the ordeal ahead. Just days before, Jesus had told his friends that the Son of Man would be handed over and be killed. Jesus needed time apart from the press of daily life pray his way into that coming reality.

And there on the mountain, as he prayed, he was infused with God’s presence and God’s power. He was filled so fully that God’s blinding light blazed through him. He was filled so fully that all could hear a voice proclaim, “This is my beloved Son, listen to him.” Empowered by the light and the voice, Jesus set his face toward Jerusalem.

My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears,
For the dawn draws near,
And the world is about to turn.

In Jerusalem, everything did turn. The political, religious, and economic leaders conspired to have Jesus executed - brutally, unmercifully. The turning of the world, it seemed, halted abruptly. Jesus’ mission, it seemed, failed miserably.

But of course we know and celebrate that Jesus’ death on the cross was not the end of the story. On third day, God raised him to new life. Talk about turning things around! God raised Jesus to new life. Jesus lives now. He lives forever. And he will come again.

In the meantime, terror and division and fear still have their way in the world. The divisions between our government leaders are fierce and sharp. Weather patterns on this planet continue to change dramatically, threatening communities and cultures in the most vulnerable parts of the earth. The Coronavirus pandemic continues to rage as we near half a million deaths in this country, face new variants of the virus and experience a slow delivery of the vaccine. And our awareness of racial injustice in our nation grows and we recognize how climate change, the Coronavirus and divisiveness affect persons of color and the poor disproportionately. We know all too well from our own experiences that God's work is not yet complete. God’s kingdom, for which we pray every time we say the Lord’s Prayer, has not yet come.

And Jesus lives. He is with us. He empowers us to be his hands and feet, his eyes and ears, his voice in the world, to do his work. He empowers your congregation to worship and gather in new ways until we can safely come together in person again. He empowers you to keep praying and taking other concrete action for the sake of those you love and the sake of those you may never meet. So we have great reason for hope. In you, the light of God, which blazed in Jesus on the mountaintop, still shines.

Though the nations rage from age to age,
we remember who holds us fast:
God's mercy must deliver us
from the conqueror's crushing grasp.
This saving word that our forbears heard
is the promise that holds us bound,
'Til the spear and rod be crushed by God,
who is turning the world around.

And so, despite the risks, open your heart, open your community to God’s turning. Spurn the sin of individualism and celebrate your deep connectedness with others. Reach across every divide with arms that are wide open in love. Do not be afraid. For Jesus is the firm, solid, still point at the center of all the turning. And Jesus will never let you go.

My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears,
For the dawn draws near,
And the world is about to turn.

Sunday, February 7, 2021

COOS Sunday Worship February 7, 2021

 


February 7, 2021

(can be printed out)

Present with us. February 7, 2021. The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

 


Mark 1:29-39, Isaiah 40:21-31

Then the fever left her and she began to serve them. That part of the story of Jesus healing Peter’s mother-in-law always used to bother me. “The poor woman,” I recall thinking, “she’s just gotten out of bed and right away she’s put to work waiting on a bunch of men who dropped by unexpectedly. Can’t she get a break?” But now in this age of fever, where temperatures are routinely monitored and many of us have at least known someone who has dealt with a fever in the last year, I hear this story differently. I’ve been reminded of how debilitating and worrisome it is to run a temperature. And nothing wears a person out like a fever. Laid up in bed with even the smallest task becoming a huge burden. The one who is sick often would give anything just to have some energy. And even after a fever is gone it can still take days, sometimes weeks, to fully recover.

 So with that in mind, instead of chafing at this account of Peter’s mother-in-law getting out of her sickbed and going straight to work, I now embrace it as remarkable. In this healing account Jesus not only cures the woman’s fever but at the same time takes away her weariness. Her strength is renewed to serve and to love.  

 But fever is not the only cause of such weariness. We are all suffering, to some degree, of pandemic fatigue and tiredness. The toll of the complete disruption of our lives for 11 months now and counting is hard to measure. Then add to that the ordinary struggles and stresses of life and it really adds up.

 It is in the middle of such weariness that people of faith ask questions of God. Perhaps the most difficult question we ask God is not, “Why?” but “Where?” as in “Where are you God?” Because when we ask “Where are you?” we are voicing that we don’t have a sense of God being with us which is a very hard place to be.

 And that is the place where the Jewish people are in our reading from the prophet Isaiah. For them it’s been not one year or two years of disruption, but seventy years. Seventy years spent in exile in the foreign land Babylon dreaming about life getting back to normal - life back in the promised land. And now, after all those wearying years they are beyond excited to return home. But when they arrive their hopes are dashed. The land is in ruins. The holy city, Jerusalem with its great temple, is just a pile of rocks. If there was ever an image of God’s absence, God leaving the building, it was that.

 “Where are you God?” the people cry. “Do you care?” “Do you have power?” and “If you care and have power, why aren’t you showing it?” These are the questions that the Jewish people and people of faith throughout the ages ask when they are weary.

 To which the prophet Isaiah answers. First, by reminding us all of the big picture. That our God is the creator of all things and way above and beyond our understanding. God is the One who does not faint nor grow weary. Yet our God does not stay up on high, removed and apart from creation. Rather he is present with us and is the source of all that we need. For those who wait for the Lord, says Isaiah, shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. 

 That is God’s desire for us. Whenever we are tired or weary our God seeks to lift us up and renew our strength. Just like Jesus did for Peter’s mother-in-law. Even Jesus himself sought this replenishment as he went out early the next morning to a deserted place to pray. He literally stepped away from the pressing needs and demands of life in order to connect with God. And in doing so his energy was renewed so that he might continue on to the next town proclaiming the good news to others.

 The good news that we hear today. The good news that God is indeed with us in this age of fever, this time of disruption. God is seeking to lift us up from our wearied state. Promising to renew our strength. But in order for that to happen we must be willing, in the words of Isaiah, to wait for the Lord. How do we do that? We do that by making ourselves open and available to the power of the Spirit. By pausing in some way during the day - whether that’s through traditional prayer or taking a mindful walk or just remembering to breathe - in order to be fully present in the moment. Because that’s the answer to the question, “Where are you God?” The present moment is the place where we will always find God and the refreshment which we seek so that we too may be lifted up with renewed strength to serve and to love.

"Reclaimed Roots" February 3, 2021

 COOS Wednesday Program Series

"Reclaimed Roots" with Myra Anderson

February 3, 2021