Rooted in relationship. July 24, 2022. The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

 Luke 11:1-13

Early on in my childhood I got the idea that prayer involved bowing my head, closing my eyes, and clasping my hands. And if I did all that along with believing with all my heart and being a good person then when I prayed - which was code for asking God for something - then God would “answer” my prayer by granting my request. Sound familiar? My guess is that many of us have lived with some version of that as our understanding of prayer. Yet it didn't take long for me to notice that even if I followed those “rules” of prayer the results didn’t always pan out. My prayers seemed to go unanswered. Shockingly, I didn’t ace a science test I only half-heartedly studied for. Nor did I make my high school cheerleading squad (in retrospect actually I thank God for that one!). And it has rained on more than one camping trip of mine. But no big deal, these unanswered prayers weren’t life or death. However, eventually some were, at the very least someone’s well-being was on the line. I would pray and pray and pray and nothing good seemed to come of it. And that’s not just not my story.  In my many years of ministry I’ve yet to have someone come to my office asking why they prayed and got exactly what they wanted. I have, however, lost track of how many have come wanting to know why they’ve asked, prayed, even begged God for something good - and gotten nothing. I’ve struggled with that question and chances are you have, too. 

And you know, there are answers out there - bad answers in my opinion. Like you didn't pray hard enough. You didn't have enough faith. It's all a mystery and someday you will understand. Everything happens for a reason. And then there’s the classic Garth Brooks’ song that seeks to console us with the notion that, “Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.”

Now that may be true sometimes but certainly not all the time. I am well aware that many of us have experienced deep pain from seemingly unanswered prayer. And that some of us are living with that pain even now.

Then to make matters worse, or at least more complicated, I sometimes hear well-meaning people declare that they believe in the power of prayer! Which raises all sorts of questions in my mind.... First of all, what does that exactly mean? Is prayer a power we have of getting God Almighty to bend to our will? And if someone’s prayer is answered and someone else’s is not, does that mean that God cares about one person more than the other? Is the “power” of prayer unleashed because more people are praying? Or better people are praying? Really the topic of prayer opens up a whole host of questions and problems partly because we often still think about it as most of us did in our childhood - that basically prayer is transactional. First you have to jump through certain hoops, say the right thing, do the right thing, and then God answers granting the request.

But when one of the disciples says to Jesus, “Teach us to pray,” he must have been asking for more than that - more than how to get God to do what you want. Because Jesus’ prayers seemed to be at a totally different level than that. Likely the request came from a desire which we all have, that is, to connect with the divine on the deepest of levels. Lord, teach us to pray.

So Jesus does. Beginning with a model which we have come to know as The Lord’s Prayer. And one of the reasons that prayer is so dear to many of us is that it harkens back to our childhood. It's probably one of the first prayers, if not the first prayer, we ever learned. So when the words are changed to a more modern or theologically accurate translation we resist it. But really it's not the words that matter so much, but the message. The message that when we pray we begin by naming God as father. And with all the difficulties of gendered language, bottom line, it's a term of intimate care. At its heart, the prayer is rooted in relationship - a relationship that invites us, among other things, to ask God for what we need in all aspects of our lives.

Jesus then continues with a parable about banging on a friend's door late at night for some bread.  It's a rather odd story, yet as I've mentioned in the past, parables by their nature are complicated and multifaceted. And perhaps one thing that Jesus is trying to communicate here is that God welcomes us always to come to him no matter the hour or the circumstance.

Finally, Jesus wraps up with what’s supposed to be an assurance but ends up inviting the elephant of unanswered prayers into the room. “Ask,” he says, “and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.”

Did Jesus say that with a straight face??? I mean, come on, with all the unanswered prayer out there? How could he be serious? Yet as I’ve sat with this scripture for the last week I believe that Jesus would wonder what in the world we are talking about. Unanswered prayer? What unanswered prayer? Because what Jesus wants to reveal to us is that God is always answering our prayers with a “Yes!”  Yes in the sense that the greatest gift God can give, the answer to our most profound wants and needs that transcends all particulars of circumstance is God’s own spirit. And that’s exactly where Jesus lands in this teaching about prayer, “If you…know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

It hasn’t been easy letting go of my childhood understanding of prayer - that it’s not supposed to be about getting something from God. Prayer does not guarantee outcome, it cannot undo the past nor does it provide a quick fix to present struggles. Prayer is not transactional: it’s relational. And its power is in opening us up and awakening our spirits to the presence of the Holy Spirit within - God’s Spirit that will never abandon us, never leave us, and promises that, ultimately, all will be well. Prayer is the paying attention to that truth, that goodness. that abundant love which meets our deepest needs.

So I invite you today, not only during this service, but throughout all of your days, to pray. In whatever way that makes sense to you, to intentionally open yourself up to the divine - whether that be with a verbal prayer, a deep breath, a moment of pause…whatever. And then receive God’s “Yes!” For the gift of God’s Spirit is the truest answer to every prayer - even the unanswered ones. 

 

Choosing the better part. July 17, 2022. The Rev. David M. Stoddart

 

Colossians 1:15-28; Luke 10:38-42

We just enjoyed a great week at Summer Celebration. It had a train theme, which was a lot of fun. In addition to music, crafts, and games, there was worship time. And worship time each day included a skit. The skit featured two characters. The first was a wise and caring train conductor who evinced a deep understanding of the Gospel and who led the children into a richer and fuller understanding of God and Jesus. That part was given to Mother Kathleen. The second character was a bumbling and somewhat dim-witted train engineer who didn’t have the foggiest idea of what Jesus is all about and who needed lots of help to understand it. That part was assigned to me. A parishioner I used to like told me I was perfect for it. Well, in one of the skits the bumbling engineer is afraid, so the wise conductor leads him in a guided meditation, telling him to close his eyes and go to his happy place, which for him was driving a train. And doing so helps him relax and feel less afraid.

The skit was ultimately about Jesus giving us hope, but the notion of a happy place has stayed with me throughout the week. That idea, of course, is very common: there are many references to “finding our happy place” in popular culture. That place could be a beloved beach house, a comfortable recliner, a cottage in the mountains, a favorite restaurant, Scott Stadium, any place. And it doesn’t necessarily have to be an actual place: it could be an imaginary location, a scene we dream up. I don’t know what your happy place is: I imagine there would be many different places represented here. But I’m guessing they would all have one thing in common: it’s a place where we are not worried and distracted. So maybe that would rule out Scott Stadium, but pretty much any place could be our happy place if it helps us to feel peaceful and calm.

Which is exactly how Martha does not feel in our Gospel today. She is worried and distracted by many things. There is a sense here that too much is going on, that Martha is having to deal with too many chores and  obligations, leaving her very anxious and distracted. The Greek word used there, merimnas, literally means divided and distributed. Martha is scattered: her being is going in too many different directions. And I for one can relate to her situation: when I have to handle too many things at once, I can feel really scattered which makes me terribly anxious. And I don’t think I’m alone in that. To be alive, especially right now, can be difficult because we are dealing with so many challenges at once, as individuals, as families, as a parish, as a nation, as a world. It is all too easy to feel worried and distracted. In fact, I know pastorally that some people would say that “worried and distracted” is their default setting, the place they most often find themselves.

But in our Gospel, Mary is not worried and distracted. We could say that she has found her happy place in Jesus. And if we try to criticize her for not doing enough, like Martha does, that just amounts to our worried and distracted selves saying that she should feel worried and distracted as well. But she shouldn’t: none of us should. Jesus is right: Mary has chosen the better part, the better way. The issue here is not whether she or we should work and be busy: we will, all of us, inevitably work and be busy, because that’s the way life is. The great question is how we will work and be busy. And our happiness depends on how we answer that question.

And before I say anything else, let me remind you that Jesus did not come to make us religious: he came to make us happy, to show us the way that leads to life, love, and joy. And being worried and distracted does not make us happy: it usually makes us miserable. The good news is that the unshakable center of our being is the infinite and unconditional love of God which Jesus incarnates. When we are connected to that center then we are connected to what is truly our happy place and can thus much more easily experience and share love, joy, peace, and happiness — which is what God our Creator wants for us. When we are centered in God’s love, when we are centered in Christ, then no matter how busy we are, everything falls into place. As Paul says in Colossians today, in him all things hold together.

I know experientially how true this is. In my good moments, on my good days, when I am consciously living out of my Christ center, I can go from Summer Celebration skits to emails to the hospital to Bible study to meetings to cooking dinner to walking the dog to Face Timing with my children without feeling worried and distracted but instead feeling calm, present, and at peace. When that happens, I am happier and find it much easier to love. When I am out of touch with my Christ center, when I feel disconnected from God’s love, then everything feels overwhelming and I feel scattered and unhappy, and it’s much harder to love others or myself. And I share that because I don’t think I’m special or unique. This is just the human condition.

So – how do we live out of that center? How do we stay connected to that ultimate happy place, which is Christ within us? There is no cookie-cutter answer to that because we all have different personalities and deal with different circumstances. But the one thing we all have in common is the power of choice. We all have tremendous power to shape our lives because we all have the power to choose. We will stay centered in Christ if we choose to. Christ is always present, God’s love is always within us: we just need to choose things that keep us connected to Christ and God’s love: we can choose to take time for prayer, we can choose to go for a quiet walk, we can choose to come to worship, we can choose to do spiritual reading, we can choose to do anything that helps us stay grounded in God’s love. What works for me may not work for you, but it doesn’t have to. The best choices for us are the choices that keep us close to God, which means choices that make us less worried and distracted, choices that make us happier and more at peace. If you want to be centered in Christ and know the happiness which comes from that, think about the choices you are making. In the Gospel Jesus tells us that Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her. All of us can do the same.

 

 

Divine surprises. July 10, 2022. The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

 

Luke 10:25-37

The story of the Good Samaritan. We know this one, don’t we? So really what's the point of hearing this story again? Let alone sitting through another sermon on it. Intellectually, at least, we know the answer to the question, “Who is my neighbor?” That is, everyone, without exception. And that we are to care for our neighbor like the Good Samaritan did. To “Go and do likewise,” to quote Jesus.

But there must be more to it than that - although really that is enough there to spend a lifetime on. Still what I mean is that parables are not supposed to be treated as moralistic fables with one simple takeaway message. On the contrary, the story of the Good Samaritan, along with all of Jesus' parables, are intentionally multifaceted. There are many ways to look at them - to hear them, see them, and experience them in our lives. And one way to know if we are on the right track, as far as really getting what Jesus desires to communicate through them, is if they challenge us and the status quo.

So in hopes of finding a new challenge in this old story, bear with me as we look at it again. A man is walking down the road when he's attacked by bandits. They rob, beat, strip, and leave him for dead. A priest and then a Levite come by and keep on walking by. But there’s a Samaritan. Seeing the poor soul he draws close, tends to the man's wounds, brings him to the nearest inn, pays the innkeeper for continued care, and then promises to return in a few days time to settle any outstanding bills. Indeed, this Samaritan is good.

Which makes me curious, who do you identify within the story? Perhaps, if you’re like me, on your bad days, you may recognize yourself in the priest and the Levite - one of the religious ones who passes on by. Because how many times do we see a need and choose not to respond? But then again, we have our good days too, where we engage and follow the Good Samaritan’s example to a T, caring for someone in need no matter the cost.

But what if this is more than just a good-example-to-follow story? What if, by looking at it in a different way, we see that it is also a story of reversal? A story that seeks to upset our deeply held notions of who’s good and who’s bad? What if by too easily identifying with the Good Samaritan we are most likely missing the point? The point that the Samaritan is not us.

Because remember when Jesus told this story in first century Palestine the relationship between Jews and Samaritans was rooted in deep bitterness. These two groups disagreed about everything that mattered to them: how to honor God, how to interpret scripture, even where to worship. They practiced their faith in separate temples, read different versions of the Torah, and socially avoided each other like the plague. Truth be told, they hated each other's guts. Now we might be inclined to love the Samaritan, but Jesus’ choice to make him “good” and the hero of the story was absolutely scandalous to those who heard it in real time. 

Think about it this way: who is the last person on Earth you would ever deem as “the good guy?” Who is the person you'd never want to ask for a favor, much less owe your life to? Who do you want to change or fix or control or save but never, never ever need? Who is the one you secretly, or maybe not so secretly, despise? That is your Samaritan.

Imagine if Jesus told the parable today but did a bit of recasting. Say, a progressive Democrat is beaten and left for dead. Two bleeding heart, pro-choice, “woke” liberals see the person in need, but both of them walk on by. And then comes a Trump supporter wearing a MAGA hat driving his pickup truck decked out with an American and a Confederate flag. He’s the one who pulls over and ends up saving this person’s life. How would that land with you? Or you could insert other characters as well…a racist white cop rescued by an African-American teenager. A transgender woman taken in by an anti-LGBTQ activist. A border patrol agent nursed back to life by an undocumented immigrant.

Let me be clear, I don’t mean to downplay the real and consequential differences that divide these various groups. Those differences impact lives in significant ways. But what I am trying to do is translate the deep division that existed between Jew and Samaritan into something we can understand. Something we know. Because the differences between the two groups were real and each was fully convinced that the other was dead wrong. Sound familiar? 

So what Jesus did when he deemed the Samaritan “good’ was radical and risky. It stunned his Jewish listeners. And in doing so Jesus was asking them, and by extension, asking us to dream of a different type of world. To consider the possibility that a person might add up to more than the sum of his or her political, racial, cultural, and economic identities. And, finally, to put aside cherished pre-judgments in order to make some room for divine surprises.

If the Samaritan is not us, perhaps we might consider the only character in the story who is left undefined. The one who has no identity except for his naked need. That is the poor sap dying in the ditch. Maybe it would be best for us to start identifying with this character first because if we can do that we might be more able to truly get that tribalism falls away when one is in need. There is no “us” and “them.” The only concern is who will stop and show mercy. And from that perspective we might see the God-like compassion of the Samaritan - who is the other.

It’s a simple question, “Who is my neighbor?” But by responding with this story, Jesus makes it clear that the answer is not a simple one. Yes, our neighbor is any and everyone in need with no exceptions. And we are to love our neighbor with the utmost mercy and generosity. But then there is also this, our neighbor is the one who scandalizes us with compassion. Who upends all of our entrenched categories and prejudices. Our neighbor is the one who mercifully steps over the line which separates “us” from “them” and shocks us with the real meaning of “good”-  and in doing so gives us a vision of God. 

No one is in this alone. July 3, 2022. The Rev. David M. Stoddart

Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

The Minnesota Timberwolves. The North Carolina State Wolfpack. The Red Wolves of Arkansas State. Many athletic teams, wanting to convey strength and power, use wolves in their name and as their mascot. And not just teams. One of the most common clan names among Native American peoples like the Cheyenne and Chippewa is the "Wolf Clan," the wolf symbolizing courage and success in hunting. For years I lived near Groton, Connecticut, the home of Electric Boat, which built formidable attack submarines in a class of ship called "Seawolf." Whatever else we might think of them, wolves are strong and fierce predators, fully capable of taking care of themselves and defending themselves against all enemies. We cannot say the same thing about baby sheep. To my knowledge, there is no NCAA team called the Fighting Lambs. In a dangerous and competitive world, we might like to cuddle with lambs, or sing about them in nursery rhymes with our children, or eat them for dinner, but to identify with them, to be  like them? Probably not.

And yet here's Jesus telling his disciples, and by extension, telling us: See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. He sends those seventy out today with no weapons and few possessions. They are meant to be vulnerable; they are armed only with a mission. That mission includes conveying peace to everyone they meet, curing the sick, and announcing that the kingdom of God has come near. They are to show others by their words and their actions that the God of mercy is close and accessible to all people. If a town rejects them, they are to shake off the dust and move on. No threats, no coercion, no talk of hellfire and damnation. The only thing those disciples are commissioned to do is to proclaim the good news of God's love.

Now, anyone who is half-awake, anyone who looks around at our nation and our world recently, can be forgiven for asking, "What happened??" Why are so many current followers of Christ so filled with rage? Why are so many baptized Christians so focused on pronouncing judgment and condemnation?  The answers to such questions would be long and depressing, but that's not what I want to talk about today. I want to remind us that the Good News of Jesus Christ has not changed. The mission Jesus gave his church has not changed. We are still called to convey God's peace everywhere we go, to be people who don't stew in anger and who don't give into hatred, but people who work for reconciliation and unity. We are still called to care for those who are sick in body, mind, or spirit. And we are still called to proclaim that the love of God is real and present, that the kingdom of God is within us and always available to us. There are any number of ways we can carry out that work and I am grateful for the many ways to strive to do that. But I want to highlight two things from this Gospel today that I believe are crucial to fulfilling our mission and to fulfilling us as human beings.

The first comes at the very end of this passage. The seventy disciples return and they're elated. They have had astounding success: even the demons submit to them. And they should feel good about all they have seen and done, but Jesus tells them: do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven. Rejoice that you belong to God and will belong to God forever. There is no greater joy, no greater bliss, than experiencing God's unconditional love and realizing, really knowing in our hearts, that we are safe in that love every moment of this life and for all eternity. Jesus lived, died, and rose again to assure us of this; his Spirit lives within us even now so that we can know this and feel this. We are all loved and cherished; we are all going to be okay, everyone we love is going to be okay. We can relax and breathe and let go of the fears, anxieties, resentments, and jealousies that both make us unhappy and make us less effective witnesses for the Gospel. There is so much fear in our world. People are constantly scrambling to protect themselves and get all they can get for themselves.

The world doesn't need frightened, angry, and insecure Christians just adding to the fear. Jesus knows what the world needs: joyful, peaceful people who are willing to be vulnerable and open, lambs who are willing to live among the wolves and show them that God's love is the ultimate reality, the very basis of our being. We need to be those people, for our own sake and for the sake of others we need to share that good news.

But to do so, we need each other. Which leads me to the second crucial point in this Gospel. Jesus sends the seventy out two by two, and then they all come back together again. No one is in this alone. No one can proclaim the Gospel alone because no one can fully experience the Gospel alone. We can certainly believe in God without ever darkening the door of a church, and God certainly loves us whether we are members of a church or not. But it's only together that we can be the light of the world, which is why Jesus forms a community. It's in community that we experience unconditional love - we can't do that alone. It's in community that we learn the reality of grace and forgiveness. It's in community that we are fed and inspired and empowered to live lives that are filled with the Holy Spirit. I know personally that I could not bear witness to Christ without the love and support of this church. Time and again, it's spending time with you in worship and friendship that reminds me of the sheer beauty of Jesus and the amazing power of God's love.

Put another way, together we can learn to live less like wolves and more like lambs. We can help each other let down our guard more, be a little less defended, a little more vulnerable, and thus more open to receiving and sharing the love of God in Christ. And that's a win for everyone. It gives the Holy Spirit more room to flow, it fills us with more joy, and it blesses all the people we come into contact with . And as those seventy disciples discovered, those aren't bad results for a bunch of sheep.