July 25, 2021
(can be printed)
Monday, July 26, 2021
Love beyond measure. July 25, 2021. The Rev. David M. Stoddart
Ephesians 3:14-21; John 6:1-21
When I was uploading my midweek message this week, YouTube, as it always does, suggested videos that I might want to watch. One of them had to do with smiling — apparently YouTube thought I needed some help with this. And it did grab my attention, so I watched it. It was made by a young woman in the far eastern part of Russia where apparently no one ever smiles in public. She spent a year as an exchange student at the University of Minnesota, not just an American school but a midwestern school where people smile a lot and it freaked her out: she couldn’t deal with all these friendly people being nice to her. Eventually, she adjusted and came to really enjoy it -- and then she moved back to her hometown, where she had to learn again to give and receive smiles rarely. Watching it reminded me of a conversation I once had with a man up in Worcester. His wife and children came to worship every week, but he did not. So we were chatting one day and I asked him why he didn’t come more frequently. And he got quite animated and said that the people at church were too friendly. He didn’t think they were being fake: he thought they were too friendly: they would smile at him and greet him, and he didn’t like that. When he came to church, he didn’t want smiles and warmth: he wanted to be left alone. He told me this with great conviction. I just listened and smiled.
Sunday, July 18, 2021
Rest a while. July 18, 2021. The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges
Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while. The disciples have just returned from their
first solo ministry tour. Earlier on in the gospel of Mark, Jesus sends the
disciples two by two out into the world with no provisions. Nothing except the
gospel message and the assurance that God would provide. And God did. The
mission turned out to be a big success. The disciples cast out demons, cured
the sick, and proclaimed the good news. Now upon their return they are brimming
with wonder and amazement as they share with Jesus all that they had done and
taught.
But recognizing their excited exhaustion Jesus knows what they need. It’s what he himself often sought after pouring himself out to the never-ending needs of others. And that is rest. It is part of being human. It is part of Jesus’ humanity. Like us, Jesus didn’t have an endless supply of energy to give. Over and over again we read in the gospels how Jesus goes off to be alone to rest, to pray, to connect with God and, in doing so, be refreshed and renewed. So Jesus has a plan for his disciples to sail away to a deserted place for a rest. But another aspect of being human that Jesus seems to not be able to avoid is that even our best laid plans can sometimes go awry. And these plans certainly did. Instead of a quiet sanctuary, by the time they arrive at their longed-for destination the crowds have beat them to it. The masses are waiting and wanting.
So what does Jesus do? Does he run? Does he tell the disciples to turn the boat around and sail away? Of course not. Upon seeing the crowd and their needs he is filled with compassion. He begins to teach them many things and then later on in the day, which for some reason our lectionary edits out, Jesus ends up feeding them, all 5,000 of them. And then once those needs are taken care of, Jesus turns to the disciples and insists that they get back into the boat and sail away. Vacation attempt - take two. But again, the plan is foiled as the second half of our reading records. For when they pull ashore at Gennesaret there are more people, rushing around bringing everyone who is in need. And Jesus responds with compassion. He heals them all.
Perhaps we can take some solace in the
fact that even Jesus lived with the tension of competing needs - the needs of
others versus his and his disciples’ needs. On the one hand Jesus was
unapologetic about his need for rest and solitude. He has no shame in
retreating when he and his disciples need a break. But on the other hand he
never allows his weariness to overwhelm his compassion. This is because he
makes rest a priority.
For without some kind of rest we humans eventually become too weary to care. And that is why Jesus calls to us saying, “Come away...and rest a while.” Come away even though there are more things to be done. Come away even though there are more needs that need addressing. Come away even though there are more causes to be championed. Come away and rest. Jesus models this for us. And God models it too in the work of creation by resting on the seventh day and calling it holy - the only thing in the creation story that is called holy. (So think about that the next time you carve out time to rest - you are doing something that is holy!) And that is reiterated in the Ten Commandments, we are to take a Sabbath rest because rest is not an act of laziness or weakness. Rest is an act of holiness and trust - trust that God is God and we are not.
But this call to rest is not to be heard as a burden. One more thing to put on our to do list. And then one more thing to feel guilty about or frustrated by when our plans go awry. There is no grace in that. Rest is not supposed to be a burden, but a gift. And truth is, whether or not our lives are packed with demands, the rest which Jesus invites us to is always available because it comes from within. God’s indwelling, Holy Spirit is always seeking to fill us, renew us, refresh us whether we are lounging about or working hard. The prophet Isaiah reminds us that it is in returning and rest that [we] shall be saved (30:15). The returning he speaks of is not about going back to some physical place. Rather it’s an inner turning of our spirit towards God. For when we turn towards God we find our rest. We hear the same message in the gospel of Matthew, when Jesus says, Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest (11:28). Coming to Jesus is all about inwardly turning and being present to God no matter what we are doing or what is going on around us.
It is my hope that you experience this soulful rest whenever we worship together. But even more than that, my hope and my prayer is that when you are sent out in peace to love and serve the Lord that, like the disciples whom Jesus sent out into the world, that you know God is with you and are assured that God will provide. If this week you are able to carve out time to be quiet and still - great! But even if that’s not a possibility or if your best laid plans go awry, God’s abundance and nourishment is always available to you. Jesus sees all of our needs and is filled with compassion. Refreshment is ours if only we are willing to receive. So this week may you have ears to hear Jesus calling to you, Come away...and rest.
Wednesday, July 14, 2021
Monday, July 12, 2021
No matter what other people think. July 11, 2021. The Rev. David M. Stoddart
2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19; Mark 6:14-29
It’s quite a scene, but then, in a rather creepy way, the lectionary juxtaposes that dance with a very different dance in our Gospel. The daughter of Herod is dancing before her father and his courtiers and officers. She is very entertaining and they all love it, so much so that Herod promises to give her anything she wants. So she consults with her mother, and they decide on a grisly reward: the head of John the Baptist on a platter.
These two very different stories have one other thing in common besides dancing, however: embarrassment, or the lack thereof. Herod makes this extravagant promise to his daughter, who then demands the worst kind of payment. No one would claim that Herod is a deeply religious person, but as the Gospel records, even Herod knows that John the Baptist is a holy and righteous man. Mark tells us he is deeply grieved at the thought of beheading him. But Herod is even more afraid of losing face in front of his courtiers and friends. He promised this girl anything she wants, and now he doesn’t want to look bad by reneging on that promise. He would rather murder an innocent man than do right by God and feel embarrassed.
David, on the other hand, has no such qualms. He gladly makes himself look foolish. He throws dignity to the winds and dances with all his might before the LORD. Saul’s daughter Michal despises him for it, and perhaps others do as well. But if so, so be it. Embarrassment will not hold David back. He will worship God and rejoice in God’s presence no matter what other people think.
This is the wondrous thing about David. He has many gifts, but is a very flawed man: he commits adultery with Bathsheeba, and then has her husband Uriah killed; he is a loving but dysfunctional father who overindulges his sons, leading to Absalom’s revolt; he carries out a census with disastrous results. But through it all, he loves God: when he fails, he repents. When he messes up, he prays for help. And always, always, always he worships, with all his heart, mind, and strength. And he’s not just paying lip service: he sees the beauty of the LORD all around him and feels the spirit of the LORD within him. Throughout his life, he rejoices in God’s love. And so the Bible affirms him to be the greatest of all the kings of Israel.
I am a priest, so I guess you could say I am a professional worshipper. But long ago I realized you can lead church services without really worshipping at all. It’s easy to feel distracted, easy to go through the motions while your mind and heart are elsewhere. So I made a decision early on in my ministry to follow the example of some beloved mentors and the example of my biblical namesake and really worship whenever I am in church. There may be a hundred things wrong in the parish, there may be dozens of people who are upset with me for one reason or another; I may have screwed up badly during the week; it may be scorching hot outside or pouring rain; there may be bad attendance; the heat pump may be broken, the toilet may be backed up, the world may be a mess — but I am going to worship and worship with all my might. No, I won’t dance around the altar in a loincloth (for which you can all give thanks), but I am going to give myself to the words I hear and the words I speak. I am going to pray as fervently as I can. I am going to preach as powerfully as I can. When I offer someone the peace of Christ, I’m going to mean it. I’m going to eat and drink Jesus at the altar and let the Holy Spirit flow through me. I am going to love God and I am going to love you with as much of my heart, mind, and strength that I can muster. And I’m going to do it no matter what other people may think.
And I share all that with you because I want to encourage you to do the same. Don’t just sit in the pews and go through the motions: worship. Give yourself to God during this service. Because when we do that, we become more alive. Worship is not about stroking God’s ego — God has no ego to stroke. We don’t worship because God needs it, we worship because we need it. We need to taste and see that the LORD is good. God is an infinite wellspring of love and beauty, an unending source of goodness and strength. And as Jesus reveals, God wants to pour all of that out on us. The more we give ourselves to God in love and gratitude, the more God’s abundant life fills us. And God delights in that! There is no end to what God will give to us, no limit to God’s love. If there is something preventing you from experiencing that more fully, then I urge you to let it go. Don’t let fear or guilt or boredom or embarrassment or the jaded opinion of others hold you back. The only reason to be together right now is to worship God. So let’s do it as best we can.
Monday, July 5, 2021
Perfect in weakness. July 4, 2021. The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges
2 Corinthians 12:2-10, Mark 6:1-13
Don’t you hate it when God doesn’t answer your prayer the way you want him to? I know I do. It’s hard to pray for something - especially when you believe you are praying for something that really lines up with what you think is God’s will for healing and wholeness and goodness for all - and God’s answer isn’t the one you want. The apostle Paul shares his own experience of this in our reading from 2 Corinthians. We don’t know what, but something is going on in Paul’s life that he labels as a torment. So being Paul, he naturally prays about it. Three times he asks God to take it away, this “thorn in his flesh.” But God doesn’t do it. Instead God answers with this, My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness. Which is a fancy way of saying “No. You’re not going to get the answer you want. You’re going to have to live with the situation. But you are going to be ok. And not just ok, but better than ok because your weakness opens you up to my strength.”
That’s difficult to hear. For one thing, who likes to hear the word “No”? But even more than that, what’s particularly challenging is how God’s message contradicts our culture. I mean today is Independence Day. A day we celebrate the anniversary of our country’s Declaration of Independence from England. But along with that we also celebrate the value and virtue we put into being independent as people. People of strength and power and self-sufficiency. Yet if we only go through life in that type of mode, feeling that we can pretty well handle anything life throws at us, then that doesn’t leave much room for God.
We see this very dynamic at play in our reading from the gospel of Mark. The people of Nazareth believe that they’ve got things pretty well figured out. Jesus returns to his hometown and preaches, and the people think, “Wait a minute. We know Jesus. He’s the local carpenter. And we know his family. Who does he think he is? Where does he get off thinking that he’s better than us?” The people of Nazareth are so full of themselves that they leave no room for God. They are so confident of their own strength that they can’t turn to God’s strength. So, the gospel says, Jesus is not able to do any deeds of power there - except for healing a few sick people who are sick enough to recognize their need for God’s healing power. Only those who are able to admit their weakness are able to share in Jesus’ gift of God’s strength.
It’s quite a paradox. It’s not our strength, successes, and accomplishments that bring us close to God. Instead, it’s our weakness, our failures, and our brokenness that opens up space in our lives for God’s grace and power to flow. The apostle Paul puts it this way, “...for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.” One way this truth is poetically manifested is in a Japanese mending process known as Kintsugi. Kintsugi is the art of fixing broken pottery with a lacquer resin mixed with powdered gold. A Kintsugi artisan takes, let’s say, a broken bowl and glues the pieces back together, but instead of hiding the chips and cracks they are highlighted in gold. The result is stunning. The bowl is not simply returned back to its original condition. Rather, it is transformed into something that is stronger and more beautiful than before.
And this is not just possible for pottery ware. “Our wounds are our trophies!” reflects the 14th century mystic Julian of Norwich. And those wounds are “holes in our souls” - the very places where [God’s] Light and Life can break through. I’m sure we’ve all seen it. A recovering alcoholic supports another alcoholic in their healing process. Someone who experiences loss is present to another in their pain. Upon experiencing injustice, a person’s life becomes devoted to social change that impacts many. Lives that had been weak and broken are transformed into something even more beautiful by God’s strength.
Just recently, one of my colleagues, the Rev. Randy Haycock, rector at St. Luke’s Simeon (which is on route 53 as you are heading out toward Monticello), died after a year or so of living with pancreatic cancer. Now even before his diagnosis, Randy had a gentle spirit about him. But the hole in his soul that cancer created enabled even more of God’s light and life to shine through. It was last month, on June 6th, that Randy preached his last sermon. It was recorded for his parish and on the video there was no hiding how physically weak and thin Randy had become. Yet, with every reason to despair, he preached the good news. While acknowledging his own experience of crying “out of the depths,” he tenderly witnessed with his words, yes, but even more powerfully with his whole being, to God’s great hope and love. Three days later Randy died in that hope and love. God’s grace was sufficient. And power was made perfect in weakness.
We may not always get the answer that we are praying for, but whatever answer God does give us it is filled with grace. A grace that can and will carry us through. For no matter who we are nor how we present ourselves to the outside world, all of us are dealing with some kind of “thorn in our flesh,” parts of us that are weak, vulnerable or broken in one way or another. One aspect of the journey of following Christ involves the lifetime process of recognizing those parts in us and then surrendering them to God. And as we do grace will abound. For it is through our weakness that we open up space for God’s strength in our lives - and that is how we become truly strong. My grace is sufficient for you for power is made perfect in weakness.
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