Treasure

“…for where your treasure is there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:21

For my thesis I’ve done a bit of reading on Christian ethics and the formation of Christian character.  Part of the biblical foundation for the formation of Christian character that I’m using is the Sermon on the Mount.   As I read the Gospel lesson for Ash Wednesday (the lectionary has Matthew 6:5-6, 16-21 but I encourage you to read all of chapter 6 to get a better picture … in fact, read all of Matthew 5-7 and get the whole sermon, but I digress..) the verse above really struck me.  We so often think that we do the things we do because of the person we are but do we ever stop to consider that it goes both ways, we are the person we are because of the things we do?  Now, don’t think I’m heading down the heretical path of works righteousness; don’t make the leap from what I just said to earning our way into heaven.  It is only because of God’s grace and love, by the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and through the power of the Holy Spirit that we are made heirs to God’s kingdom. 

  

But in this sermon, Jesus is talking about the things we do here on earth as visible, physical manifestations of God’s love and the way what we do and who we are becoming is inseparable. In the language of ethics we’d use the terms practices and habits.  The things we do as Christians – serving others, prayer, fasting, proclaiming the gospel, behaving compassionately and humbly and lovingly – at first we may have to do them consciously and as we practice them more and more they become habits.  We acknowledge all along that it is only by God’s divine power that we are given what we need to live a godly life and are enabled to participate in his divine nature (when you finish reading the Sermon on the Mount, pour yourself another cup of coffee and read 2 Peter). 

So, I consider this morning, where is my treasure – what is it that I value and allow to shape who I am becoming?  Will my behavior today bring me closer to God?  During Lent, what habits can I practice that will build up the body of Christ? 

“Almighty and everlasting God, you hate nothing you have made and forgive the sins of all who are penitent: Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”

God’s peace,
Nancy

Writing for Lent: a blog reawakening

Happy Shrove Tuesday, Folks.  It’s the day before Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent (once again I recommend this site for basic information on church seasons).  It’s hard to believe.  It’s also hard to believe that the last time I wrote for this blog was September … sorry about that.  I said I’d keep you posted on how my last year is going and that year is almost over.   I’ve never quite shaken the mood that all I’m doing is for “the last time’ but I’ve taken that thought and tried to stay focused and present in all that I’ve done so that I (hopefully) don’t take any interaction for granted so it’s been a good exercise in abiding in the time I’m in. 

One of the highlights for me for the Fall Term was getting to meet and talk with Fleming Rutledge (http://www.generousorthodoxy.org/) .  I shared with her my passion for writing (a passion taken over by writing for school assignments lately) and she asked if I had a blog.  I told her yes but I didn’t write for it as much as I’d like.  Her advice to me was to take it more seriously and write for it regularly.  That has stayed with me and I’ve made several pseudo-starts in the past months.  There are a number of half begun postings in the “blog” folder on my laptop.  As I was praying and meditating over how I would observe Lent, this is what kept coming to mind.  So, my Lenten discipline this year will be writing for my blog.  And, I don’t mean discipline as punishment but as a practice that will help shape my character and deepen my relationship with God (and perhaps give you a nugget or two to think about).  I commit to at a minimum twice a week - Wednesday s and Saturdays.  And I ask you to help keep me accountable to this commitment. 

In other news: my ordination date has been set.  God willing and the people consenting, I’ll be ordained a deacon in the Episcopal Church of the United States on June 11 at St. Thomas Episcopal Church in San Antonio.  I also know my first assignment.  As of July 1, I’ll be the Assistant to the Rector at St. John’s Episcopal Church in McAllen, Texas.  This past weekend at our annual Diocesan Council, I was able to spend time with the Rector and some of the folks from St. John’s and I look forward to being a part of that community.  God’s grace and abundance continue to overwhelm me.

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Love of God , and the Fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all, evermore. Amen.

Nancy

It's been a while ...

My summer internship (an amazing experience for which I will ever be grateful to Fr. Chuck Woehler and the people of St. Thomas) ended in a rush of touring small parishes in the coastal bend and then camp followed by two weeks in which I really wanted to do as little as possible but also wanted to visit with family and needed to prepare for the new – and last – school year.  So, I did some resting, some visiting, some knitting, some organizing and prep for school, and some packing, and through it all felt myself settling into a funky mood that I couldn’t quite get my finger on.   The previous two years I was excited and anxious about getting to school and would pack and repack and go over check lists and to-do lists that I’d already completed.  

This year, I seemed to dread the preparation.  And, then one morning, as I stood in my room staring at my not-yet-packed suitcase, that evasive thought that was coloring all I was avoiding doing showed its mournful face clearly … “I’m going back to school to say good-bye”.  It’s my last year and everything that I do will be “for the last time” – all of the traditions (yes, we are Anglican, doing anything twice makes it a tradition) and routines and fun times that I’ve come to love doing with people who have become so very dear to me will be “for the last time”. 

One of the things my summer internship did was to affirm for me that I’m doing what God and the church have called me to do.  It’s important and I have every intention of finishing what I’ve started and completing my degree and (God willing and the people consenting) getting ordained into the priesthood of the Episcopal Church.  The greatest compliment I’ve received was when a parishioner told me I looked “normal” assisting in the Eucharist – putting on this new vocation fits me. 

The close friends I’ve made at Wycliffe will remain my dear friends for the rest of my life – the bonds we’ve formed go far beyond physical proximity.  The formation that has taken place in the rhythm of Morning and Evening Prayer will forever shape who I am and who I am becoming.  The classroom and papers and exams have instilled habits that will be a lifetime of continuous learning.  These things I will carry with me forever because they are part of me.  (Not to mention, the amount of pictures I’ve taken will keep me scrapbooking for at least a decade.)

I know it’s going to be a fast year with lots of wonderful memories just as the last two have been.  I’m excited about my classes and writing my thesis and serving as Senior Sacristan.  So, here I am, in what has been “my room” for the previous two school years and will be for the “last one” … orientation and the first week of classes have come and gone and I still haven’t completely shaken off the “funky mood”.   It’s going to be a mixed bag, I think.  I’ll keep you posted on how things go …

Summer Sermon #4 - Being Fed

I should have posted this one a long time ago ...

July 31, 2011

Proper 13

St. Thomas Episcopal Church

Isaiah 55:1-5

Psalm 145:8-9, 15-22

Romans 9:1-5

Matthew 14:13-21

Being Fed

The feeding of the five thousand – perhaps the best known of Jesus' miracles, next to the water to wine thing, of course.  I'm sure you know the story well. But for those of you who have been in my bible study this summer, you know I'm all about looking at these familiar stories fresh and new to see “what else” we can get from them.  And, I'm always amazed that when I do look at a familiar story, trying to put aside what I think I know about it, God almost always gives me something new in it.  This story was no exception. 

This is the only miracle that is presented in all four of the gospels.  I think that makes it pretty significant.  And, although the telling of the story in each gospel is slightly different, there are certain facts that are unchanged – there are 5000 men plus women and children, there are five loaves and two fishes, and there are 12 baskets full left over.  I think we can confidently say this miracle really did happen.

But what really did happen?  And I don't mean, how did Jesus do it, how did he make so much food appear?  That isn't the important question to ask.  It's not what we are to get from the story.  I think it's good for us to acknowledge there is mystery in miracles.  It helps us remember that God is God and we are not.  Let's  revisit afresh what the story tells us.  First of all, Matthew sets the context of this story immediately following Jesus finding out that John the Baptist has been gruesomely killed, at the whim of King Herod's wife who didn't like his teachings.  Jesus wanted to get away to spend time in his grief, to go to a 'deserted place by himself'.  The reference to a deserted place would not have been lost on the first readers of Matthew's gospel – it's a place of human wandering and uncertainty, of doubt and insecurity and yet mysteriously, miraculously it is a place where God works deep within.  The Israelites wandered in the desert as God prepared them to receive the abundance of the Promised Land; John the Baptist preached in the desert to prepare his listeners for the abundance of the Kingdom that was coming in Jesus; Jesus himself spent time in the desert to prepare for his ministry that would bring the abundance of new life to all.  The desert is a place of isolation and suffering but it is also the place God uses to prepare us for the abundance to come. 

The crowds, however, had a different plan for Jesus.  They hungered to hear his word and receive his healing touch, so much so, they didn't think about their basic physical needs.  They followed him, without hesitation, without preparation, without packing a lunch.  And when Jesus saw them, he wasn't annoyed, he didn't try to avoid them, he didn't scold them … even in the midst of his own grief Matthew tells us he had compassion for them and healed their sick.  The account in Mark says Jesus has compassion because they are like sheep without a shepherd.  Jesus was moved to compassion and instinctively he takes care of their physical needs – he heals them.  Webster defines compassion as “sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it”.  Without the desire to do something, it's just pity or feeling sorry.  Compassion moves us to want to do something even if we don't know what that something is. 

A lot of people when they read what the disciples say next accuse them of not having the same compassion that Jesus does and I've thought that, too.  But this time through I saw it differently.  I think they did have compassion.  They knew the people must be hungry, the disciples themselves were probably quite hungry, so they ask Jesus to remind the crowd that they need to eat.  They're pretty sure they don't have the resources to feed them so they come up with the best plan they can – send them away to get food.  Can you see it that way?  Can you relate to their wanting to care for the world's   needs but feeling unable to do anything?  They are thinking with earthly things and their own power and ability.

Jesus knows differently.  He knows that the disciples can do more; he knows that with God's help they are capable of partnering with God in the care of His creation and he's going to show them how.  He tells them “you feed them”.  When they voice their inability to do anything, it's not because they don't want to, but because they don't know what they can do.  Jesus walks them through the solution.  He first tells them to gather what they have.  In their time of doubt, he begins to prepare them for the abundance to come. 

When they bring him the five loaves and two fishes, he takes what they have and looking to heaven, prays over it – actions we mimic every week when we partake in the Eucharist.  We bring forward what we have – the bread and the wine and give it to God at His table, we give thanks and ask Him to bless it.  What follows is always abundance.  He miraculously transforms it so that it not only feeds us physically but spiritually.  In loving abundance God gives us what He knows we need. 

Jesus didn't give the food directly to the crowds, he gave it back to the disciples and asked them to distribute it.  The disciples partnered with God as co-creators.  And like the disciples we are called to partner with God in sharing His loving abundance with others.  In coming together to celebrate the Holy Eucharist, we receive that which nourishes us so that we can go out into the world to love and serve – to be moved to compassion by the needs of the world.  We are called to be the hands and feet through which God does His work is done in this world. 

It's easy to become overwhelmed with the great needs of the world and to say “What can I do?”  When the disciples thought there was barely enough to feed the 12 of them, Jesus gave them the means to do more, much more, and each of them had a basketful left over.  We are not meant to do it alone.  The disciples worked together with each other, no one disciple is singled out by name, they are a unified group, looking to Jesus who points them to heaven for direction and the power to reveal God's love to the world through concrete acts of compassion. 

Together, as followers of Jesus' Way, we can, with God's help, miraculously and mysteriously, make His abundant love a concrete reality to the world around us if we don't limit ourselves to our own power and means.  Jesus shows us how we can be God's hands and feet, moved to compassion, by looking to heaven and giving thanks for the power and ability only God can provide. 

Humility

I like to write fiction – creating characters and situations that come to life in the words and sentences I link together. One of my favorite parts about writing is when I realize that what I had originally planned to happen just doesn't fit with the characters I've created and the story begins to write itself. I like to talk about the fiction I write – if you've known me for long you know this (really, she's talking about that again?). I don't like for anyone to actually read my fiction. It scares me – for two reasons: One you might not like it and not wanting to hurt my feelings you just wouldn't say anything and then I'd have to ask what you thought and then you'd dance around what you really thought and it'd just be awkward for both of us … and two, you might like it and tell me how good it is and then I'd have to say thank you and I'm not always good at taking compliments because I don't want to feed my ego too much and and so I'd get embarrassed then it would just get awkward …

I remember when I first started giving sermons and people would come up to me afterward and tell me I did a good job I felt so wrong saying thank you, but I did my best to be polite and not be too self deprecating. I've talked to several priest friends about it and I've come to understand that it's okay to accept their compliments and comments as long as I approach the whole thing from the right frame of mind. I don't write my sermons thinking “how am I going to wow them this time” but by asking God to use my words to speak to those listening. And, knowing from experience that there isn't a lot in Church Land more painful than a badly prepared or given sermon, I try to do my best at both the preparation and the delivery. Proclaiming God's Word deserves my best and nothing less. I've discovered I really enjoy preparing and giving sermons almost as much as I enjoy writing a short story. 

In my studies of Benedictine Spirituality, I've read a lot about humility. Understanding humility is the foundation of Benedictine Spirituality. In his Rule, St. Benedict talks about humility more than any other virtue, he devotes a whole chapter to it that is far longer than any other chapter in the Rule including the chapter on Obedience. Benedict defines 12 steps of humility – a program for overcoming our addiction to putting ourselves above God. Humility is not self deprecating but simply accepting our proper place in the Universe – admitting that God is God. The freedom found in this is that we can stop pretending to be perfect and acknowledge that we have limitations. The other side of this coin is that in acknowledging God as God is to accept that we are His creation, His children whom He loves and wants the best for and we owe Him our best – the best of our skills and talents and abilities that He gave us.

Sister Joan Chittister in her commentary on The Rule says “The Irony of humility is that if we have it, we know we are made for greatness, we are made for God.”

So, I have talents and abilities everyone sees and hears and those which I keep private.  Either way I will always strive give it my best because God deserves nothing less.

God's peace be with you,
Nancy

Internship Summer Sermon #3: Paradoxes

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Proper 9, Year A

Zechariah 9:9-12

Psalm 145:8-15

Romans 7:15-25

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

I love a good paradox. And, this week’s lessons are full of them: Humble triumph, peaceful commands, easy yokes and light burdens … prisoners of hope. In Zechariah we hear the Messianic prophecy that is referenced in each of the four Gospels as they tell of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on what we now celebrate as Palm Sunday, the Sunday before Easter. The Jews in Jerusalem that day would have remembered what the prophet Zechariah foretold as they witnessed Jesus arriving in Jerusalem on a donkey. And yet, therein lies the biggest paradox of all. They would have understood the meaning behind Jesus arriving in Jerusalem on the foal of a donkey and yet for many, he was not the Messiah they expected. The Messiah was God’s promised redemption for them and yet they wanted a Messiah, a savior, of their own design, one not coming humbly to rule in peace but one who came with chariots and war horses, the exact opposite of the prophecy they knew so well.

For us, sitting here in San Antonio, Texas a few thousand years later, what do we hear in this passage? We might hear things that resound with us as we celebrate our country’s birthday – national pride, triumph and victory, dominion from sea to shining sea (yeah, I know shining isn’t in Zechariah, but it is in Katharine Lea Bates’ lyrics – don’t tell me your mind didn’t put it in there when you read it). We might hear of a time we anticipate when there is no war and no suffering in our world. Just like the Jews in Jerusalem, we might hear a description of the Messiah that is very different from our own expectations or we might hear of a hope that we live with, the hope that holds us bound to God.

Long before Jesus rode into Jerusalem on the donkey’s colt, he knew his ministry and time would be full of paradoxes and contradictions. He did come, after all, to offer a Way of Life that is different from the world – we are to be in it but not of it. These people struggle with aligning their own wants with what they were told to expect. In Matthew, Jesus points this out. They are like children who want to dictate the rules of the game and then get mad when they can’t control what others do. They condemn John for not eating and Jesus for eating. They are experts in the religious Law but have forgotten the basics of mercy and grace, the very purposes of God’s law. They know God’s Law but not God. They have become prisoners of their own ill-fitting yokes whose burden was more than most could bear. They are not prisoners of hope but prisoners of their own struggle to save themselves by being good enough.

To be a prisoner of something is to be under the control of that thing and most often we think of it in negative terms such as a physical prison, an addiction, or an abusive and oppressive situation. Sometimes though we can use the term prisoner in a positive way like when we say “I’m a prisoner of love” meaning we don’t want to be without it. We choose to let our love of another and their love for us to determine our behavior; we give ourselves over to it. Zechariah knew this to be the case with hope as well. Zechariah offered this prophecy up as encouragement to the Jews who had returned to Jerusalem from their exile in Babylon and were in the midst of rebuilding their temple Their hope carried them forward through their struggles, trusting that God would send a Messiah to reverse the powers of the world and deliver and restore his people. He is telling them to let this hope take hold of them and become prisoners of it.

So, how do we, here and now, translate this ancient prophecy, this encouragement to become prisoners of hope? How do we let ourselves become prisoners of hope in the paradox of living in the now and not yet? The Messiah has come and yet we still live in struggle in this world. In the darkest nights of our souls, hope is that faint glimmer that urges us on even when we don’t want to, seeking to know God and trusting Him with our next breath, step, day, future.

But, wait, how can we seek God when Jesus tells us that no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom he chooses to reveal the Father. It sounds exclusionary but it isn’t. Jesus chooses to reveal the Father to everyone who willingly comes to him for rest and relief not power or riches. The rest that Jesus offers is not the absence of work but re-creation, renewal, and the restoring the proper authority of God in our lives. He offers rest to those who find hope in the paradox that God, our life source is the goodness out of which we are to grow into fullness of life and that life is a struggle, from birth to death. Hope is our response to that struggle.

Hope is that which allows us to turn unwanted change into willing conversion; to reclaim powerlessness as willing surrender; to surrender ourselves to the apparent contradiction of peaceful victory and humble triumph without chariots, war horses, or battle bows. We let go of our ideals of what we want a savior to be and accept the one God sent as he is – a humble, peaceful, servant who brings victory and triumph not as the world defines it but victory over a world that presents a false hope that we can save ourselves.

As prisoners of hope we have the freedom to admit our limitations and weaknesses, to admit that God is God and He created us to live in relationship with Him and with each other. We aren’t meant to struggle through life alone but in community so that in those times when we have strength and endurance that others do not have we can help them and vice versa. It is as prisoners of Hope that when we can’t see God we can ask others to point us in His direction because we know he is there; when we don’t have the words to pray, we ask others to pray for us; when we can’t think of a single thing to be thankful for, we can still offer up a prayer of praise and thanksgiving trusting that God is God.

Christian Hope is not the idea that if we believe the right things we will be without struggle in this world. Hope is born out of the struggles of this world and it is through struggle that we develop and grow. Christian Hope is that which enables us to keep our eyes turned in the direction of God even if we feel we can’t see Him, knowing that in the fullness of time we and all of creation will be gathered unto him, free from the struggles through which we have come to know Him.

Jesus taught in parables and paradoxes. His sermons and words often require us to struggle with the meaning. He didn’t do this to keep the meaning from us but to inspire us to delve deeper into our knowledge of God, to teach us how to seek with hope. Sister Joan Chittister defines struggle as “the process of evolution from spiritual emptiness to spiritual wisdom.” It is the invitation to live from deeper within our souls. Struggle is the foundation of hope.

My prayer for all of us is that we stay bound to the Hope which makes us truly free.

Summer Reading

For the first time in a few years I have the time and the mental/emotional capacity to read whatever I want to read … I’d almost forgotten the joys of pleasure reading.  So, I thought I’d share what I’ve read so far in case you are looking for some suggestions.  Yes, some of them are theology related but they are still books I chose for my own interest, not because it was an assignment or research for a paper.  It makes a difference, really! 

Relic by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child

This one has been around a while, published in 1995, the first of a line of their Pendergast Mysteries.  A well written mystery and since it is a mystery, I don’t want to give away any of the details but if you like mysteries I do recommend it and I plan on reading the others in the series.  It’s an excellent book for sitting on the back porch with your favorite beverage.  The plot line and characters hold your interest and there are enough surprises along the way to keep it from being predictable. 

Angry Conversations with God by Susan Isaacs

This is a laugh out loud book (I had to stop reading it in a coffee shop because I kept laughing and people would shoot me not-so-nice looks).  Yes, it is theology related but with a twist.  The subtitle for the book is “A Snarky but Authentic Spiritual Memoir”.  Susan, in a time when she was feeling abandoned by God has a friend tell her that our relationship with God is like a marriage.  Susan’s response is that if that is the case, she and God need marriage counseling.  What follows is a witty, touching, and very real dialogue between Susan, God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and their counselor.  EXCELLENT! 

Angelology by Danielle Trussoni

I love books that can take an obscure verse from the Bible and create a story around it!  This one uses Genesis 6:4 – the nephilim, the race created when angels and human women bore children.  Again, it’s a mystery and I don’t want to give away the details.  It seemed to have a slow start but really picked up after the first couple of chapters and became a real page turner!  There is enough historical stuff mixed in that you really begin to wonder if this could all be true.  Nicely developed characters and interesting twists … and the ending … OH, the ending!  You really should read this one.  You’ll be glad you did. 

Love Wins by Rob Bell

Everyone needs to read this book – whether you are a Christian or not, whether you listen to the book reviews that said Bell is a heretic or not.  Bell doesn’t give anything new – a fact he admits in the introduction.  I saw C.S. Lewis, Henri Nouwen, and N.T. Wright in this book (thoughts confirmed when I got to the end and looked over his “Further Reading” recommendations).  He doesn’t say there is no Hell; he believes Hell to be very real.  He doesn’t say that everyone, no matter what, will go to Heaven; there will be people who no matter how many chances they are given cannot accept or face the enormity of God’s love.  What he does say is that God’s love is what the Gospel is all about.  Read the book – you won’t regret for a second that you did.  In fact, it may change your life. 

If you do read any of these I’d love to hear your thoughts on them!  Thanks for letting me share the joy I find in reading with you.

God’s peace,

Nancy