Courage at Christmas

Three hundred years after Jesus, a man posed an experiment. His name was Augustine and he wrote this experiment down in a book. People would read this book and ask themselves this question for hundreds and hundreds of years. The dilemma would shape our understanding of God and of how we are saved. This is the experiment:

Imagine that God offers you a deal. God offers you everything: power, pleasure, wealth, honor, freedom, even peace. Nothing will be a sin, nothing will be forbidden or impossible for you. You will never be bored and you will never die. And there is only one condition...if you accept all this, you will never see the face of God.

What would you choose? Would you choose to live your life comfortably and pleasurably for all eternity and never see God's face? Would you?

You see, ever since we fell from God's grace, we have suffered. And the only way back to God, the only way to be saved is to move through suffering and even death. There is no other way to God but through the cross, through pain. And there is nothing that we are more afraid of than pain except perhaps death.

When my father-in-law found out that he had cancer, I don't know how scared he was but we were sure scared. For one thing, he had to shave his head. We all cried together in the hotel room that day. Everything seemed so unknown. I didn't want him to feel pain. I did not know what to say, what the future might hold.

I remember vividly how my husband walked into the bathroom to help his father shave his head. They ran the water in the sink. My father-in-law sat down in a chair in front of the mirror and his son stood behind him. My father-in-law took off his shirt. So did my husband.

"What are you doing, son?" he asked.

"Dad, I can't make this cancer go away but I can be there with you. I am here with you, every step of the way."

And my husband began to shave his head.

The Middle East is exploding. Egypt is burning. Syria is suffering. There is starvation and deprivation all over the world. People are homeless on the streets of Jacksonville and there is talk of a financial cliff. But all this did not touch us directly. It was hard but it was far away or it might not happen or it was the pain of unfortunate people whose lives were somehow different than ours.

But then, a young man walked into an elementary school with guns and shot children as they cried and cowered in a corner. He shot teachers, principals, counselors, little blond girls who were just learning to read, a disabled boy, a playful first-grader, and he looked like any of us. He could live right down the street from our schools from our children. We try to make sense of it, but no one can even begin to imagine any kind of mental illness that could take you that far into evil. No one can even begin to understand why. This is our country. This is our backyard. And we are afraid. That little town in Connecticut had no idea that horror was about to visit them. They had no idea. And neither do we.

Mary was so young. She was only 13 or 14. She had never had a baby before but I'm sure she knew that many women died that way. Giving birth was dangerous, it could be deadly. When we are afraid, we long for familiar settings, for something we know. But Mary had no idea where she was. She had never traveled this far away from home. This was the land of her husband's ancestry. This was Bethlehem. And she didn't have a home.

She could feel the pains coming. They couldn't find a room. She must have felt her fear mounting. Where could she have this baby? How could they stay warm? Would they all die?

The Romans could kill Jews for no reason. King Herod was paranoid and afraid of the coming of a Jewish Messiah. The land was tense, it was about to explode with violence. And Mary was bringing a baby into all this mess.

Mary was afraid. To be human is to be afraid. We do not know how we got here, we do not know when we will die. We dont know why God made us exactly as we are and we dont know when God will take us home. When someone is dying, I tell them that it is so much like birth. You never know when it might happen.

We are not in control of our lives. And we are afraid, deep down inside, afraid of what we do not understand. So we numb ourselves with routines and schedules and comfort foods and rituals and belongings, pretending that we do have control, that our lives are up to us, but the truth is that we are fragile. This entire earth teeters in a balance between good and evil and we never know what is coming next. No matter how much we plan and save, we do not know know what will happen tomorrow.

What does a mother do when her baby cries out in the night, afraid of the darkness? She goes to the child. She is there with the baby. She cannot make the night go away, she cannot make the darkness go away, but she can stand there with that child in the midst of the darkness.

That is why God became human tonight, because we were afraid. Because we still are afraid and we live in a broken world, where we do not know what will happen next. We do not know when a man will walk into our schools with a gun and kill our children. And so Jesus came, not to fix it all, for we must try to do that ourselves, but just to be with us.

And Mary, on that holy night, did not give into her fear. She lived for something more than that. She entered into the pain and the darkness and brought Christ into it and that is what we are called to do.

It is OK that you are afraid. I am too. It is OK to be lonely or sad or frightened. Mary was too. Don't try to erase your fears by drinking or getting really mad or trying too hard to control everything. Just be scared. Let fear knock on your door. But don't let it have the last word. It did not have the last word on that holy night you know, and it didn't have the last word when my father-in-law had to shave his head, or even when those children died. Fear does not win the day. Church bells will ring, Jesus will come.

Do you want to see the face of God? Begin by looking at that baby and then watch him grow. Model your life on his life, do as he did. Give your life to him and you will see the face of God, you will.

Amen.

The Truth about Christmas

After Friday morning's tragedy, is there anyone here who does not believe that this world has fallen from God's grace? Is there anyone who still thinks that there is no such thing as sin or brokenness? Is there anyone who does not think that there is such a thing as evil?

Like you, I have spent the past forty-eight hours in shock and sadness and prayer. I cannot fathom how anyone could walk into a school and shoot children. It is a horror like the brutality of Nazi Germany. I cannot get my mind around it. It is the slaughter of the truly innocent.

All over Facebook and the news, people have started to try to reason and explain it. If it we only had for gun control...we should have better locks on our schools...and people have pondered how this young man must have been mentally ill as if we should be feeling sorry for him, as if we are heartless if we don't feel that way.

I know that Jesus calls us to pray for our enemies, but I have not gotten there yet. There is a time and a place to mark atrocity, to say, with every ounce of our being, that this was EVIL and WRONG and that nothing can change that. Nothing can take away the horror of this event. It is a scar that will mark us forever. There is no understanding it, no justifying it, no reasoning can approach it. It is...horror.

I overheard a man in a store say, "Yeah, and all this happened at Christmas! It just wrecks Christmas!"

We have tried so hard to makes Christmas into a sweet and fuzzy holiday, compete with pretty wrapping paper and snow covered hills. We do with Christmas what we do with Christianity and with Christ himself, we domesticate them and try to use them as comfort blankets. But Christ cannot be tamed. The event of the incarnation was not a fairytale.

Remember that Jesus came into a world where King Herod was killing babies. Remember that he was born in the dirt. And remember that there was a man who came before Jesus to get us ready. John the Baptist.

Into our broken world, John comes screaming. He does not tell us to get out our stockings and our decorations, he tells us that the world is about to be torn apart. Torn apart!! He likens Christ coming to an ax being laid to the root of a tree. We will all perish unless we change our lives and follow him.

To be Christian means to stand against everything that happened on Friday morning. It means to devote yourself, body, mind and soul, to serving God and to protecting the innocent. You have been baptized with the fire of the Holy Spirit. The ax is lying at the root of the tree and you must decide for yourself: are you in or are you out? Will you bear fruit for God?

Do you want to be part of a community that devotes itself to trying to help solve issues of violence? Then get on board. Do you want to teach children that they are loved by God and that, no matter what, Jesus loves them? Then join us. But don't think for one second that you can just come here on Sunday and go home and be comfortable. Because once you are baptized with fire, God has invited you into a radical new kind of life, a life in which you are no longer the first priority. God must come first. You must give of yourself, all of yourself. Your life is no longer your own, for we cannot sit still so long as tragedies of this nature continue to occur.

I know that there are many political views in this country right now, but let us not misunderstand that most good Americans are trying to stand for justice and we all want what's best for our children. Our enemies are not those who disagree with us, we have a much larger, darker, and more broken world to focus on. Let us not waste time on our political arguments and neglect the true issues that surround us.

When the crowd asks John the Baptist what they should do to be ready, he talks all about money and stuff. Give up your extra cloak, collect no more taxes than the amount prescribed, give away food, be satisfied with your wages. Live a just and generous life. Live a just and generous life.

And focus on love. At the same time as we stand up to the horror at this tragedy, let us look to the doctors, nurses, counselors, fellow parents, teachers, firefighters and all others who are in the trenches serving and loving the wounded and the grieving. Let us remember that the world is not so full of darkness that there is no light. Love is real and it is all around us.

In a moment, Father Perry will bless the marriage of two people who found one another in times darkness. Liesl was a drinker who loved parties. Paul had suffered in a terrible car accident and had been in a coma for six months. Half of Pauls brain no longer functions. Liesl saw in him a man who was struggling to be whole again. And she found peace in loving him and helping him. By loving Paul, Liesl found herself again.

That is the miracle of the Christian life, that when you give your life away, God gives it back, and a much better version.

When that little baby is born in a manger, remember that you belong to Him. We are the followers of a holy child and we will strive to serve children and the poor, those less fortunate, those vulnerable and helpless- because we see that little baby within them. And he calls us every single day of our lives asking us to help make this world a better place.

Practice Awareness

About seven years ago, a cat wandered into our driveway. At least, that is what Jacob, my son, tells me. We took the cat to the vet and the vet told us that she was a fine cat. We named her Cocoa.

Cocoa was loving and sweet but she had one terrible habit. She liked to pee in the corner of the living room. What a horrible stench! I ran to the grocery to stock up on cleaning supplies but she would not stop.

One evening, Jacob called me to my bedroom. He had cocoa on her back, happy and purring. He pointed to a distinctly male looking private part.

"Mom, what is that?" he asked.

"Jacob, the vet said that cocoa was a girl."

"Well, then what is that?"

"I have no idea..." I said.

Jacob called his dad in and JD too reiterated that the vet told us she was female. JD too had no idea what that thing was.

Finally, out of desperation and now convinced that the stench in our house would prevent anyone from coming the visit again, I returned to the vet.

"Oops!" he said. "Actually Cocoa is a boy. And he needs to be neutered. That will stop the spraying."

So we had Cocoa neutered. And now we call him THE COCONATOR.

And we no longer go to that vet.

What is Advent? The word means The Coming. It is the four week period before Jesus comes into the world. It is four weeks of waiting. Advent has everything to do with how we see the world and whether or not we are really awake and looking at life itself.

You see many of us live our lives without really looking at each moment with an open heart and mind. We think that we know how our lives should proceed, so we live mostly unconsciously, unaware of God's ever-changing presence around us.

While the rest of the world rushes on with their Christmas carols and jolly songs, ancient Christians used to pause and wait. They would read stories from the Old Testament, stories that promised that a Messiah would come to save then and adopt them as His own. They would hold onto those stories for dear life. They would look up, expecting that, at any moment, Christ could walk through the door and call them home. It was a wholly different way of living.

To wait in this life means to admit that you do not belong here. It is to admit that you find this world beautiful and meaningful but that it is not home, that we don't belong here, that we are waiting for something better. We wait for a place where there is true peace, where we can see God face to face.

Many of us don't realize that we are waiting until our bodies begin to fail. Once our bones begin to crumble or our heart is weakened, we begin to wonder of God might have something more complete in mind for us, a place without pain or hunger. To be a Christian means to wait.

I have begun to believe that the quality of our awareness is as important as faith itself. I would not ask a person, "Are you saved?" as much as I would ask them, "Are you awake to God's presence?"

Are you waiting for a day when you can see God face to face? Are you waiting for a kingdom in which there is no hunger or fear or poverty or suffering? Do you long for that? If you do long for it, how do you wait?

Christian waiting is not passive. We don't simply believe that Christ will come and rescue us. Jesus was quite specific when he told us that we must be alert, that his coming will happen quickly. We must practice awareness of his presence now if we are to run into his arms in the day to come.

There is nothing that puts us to sleep more than our own business. We plan out our days and schedule everything. We know exactly what each moment is supposed to look like. And we no longer see anything.

That is why we must practice awareness. It is essential, in this day and age, to schedule time with God alone. Sit down alone and listen for God. Picture Christ walking towards you. Read scripture. Like physical exercise, the heart must be trained to unburden itself of worries and distraction if we are to be alert to Christ's coming. You must practice your faith daily by praying, by listening to God. It is imperative.

Carinette is just one of fifty-seven dark-skinned, bright-eyed, Creole-speaking children who live at the orphanage in Haiti. She is seven. She eats mainly rice and beans. She plays with the rest of the kids. She sleeps under a tin roof with the other girls. She hears the Haitian rain pounding on the tin roof at night. But she is unlike all the other children. Carinette has been adopted.

Carinette's parents came to meet her. They are Americans who raised three children and decided to adopt another. They came giving her a bear, photos of their family, cookies and granola bars. She stored the teddy with the director so it wouldn't be ruined (toys don't last that long at the orphanage). She shared the granola bars and cookies. And she walks about clutching the pictures. Her parents had to return to the States to finalize the paperwork. They should come for her in a month, maybe two. So Carinette lives looking up. She is awake and alert. She has a home and they are coming for her. It could be any moment and she will be going home.

That is how we Christians must live, just like Carinette. We must cling to the pictures that we have been given, the stories from Scripture, the promises that Jesus made. We must be alert and awake, for we do not belong here. Our Lord is coming to take us home. What kind of pictures can you carry with you to remind you to look for the coming of Christ? Can you practice daily thanking God? Can you sit alone in silence? Can you watch the sun rise every morning and strive to really see it?

Be on guard that your hearts are not weighed down, Jesus says, or that day will catch you unexpectedly.
Practice awareness. It is the only way.

Listening to God

On Veterans Day, I often find myself thinking back to the wars that this country has struggled through and the suffering of our soldiers. I think of men and women who quietly died in prisoner of war camps in Japan, who bled in the deep jungle of Vietnam, whose bodies exploded in a bomb in Afganistan. And I wonder if I could ever give the world what they have given, their very lives. When we look back on our lives, will you and I feel as if we have given enough? Will we feel that we have tried our best to make the world a better, safer, freer planet for all? Or will we look back with regret and think that we took the easy way out?

Nancy Klein has written a book. It is called Time to Think. In it, she remembers what her mother told her as she lay dying. "Nancy," she said. "I am so sorry for the state of the world that I am leaving to you. I wish that things were better. Our economy is struggling. The future is uncertain. There is so much potential for violence all over the world. Things are hard. I wish I could have made them better, but now it's up to you." Nancy thought a lot about her mothers words. Her mother never worked. She never went to war. She just raised Nancy and her siblings. But her mother had one great gift. Her mother knew how to listen.

When Nancy would come home from school, her mother would sit at the kitchen table with her and eagerly listen as Nancy recounted her day. And she did not just want to hear the events of the day. What she really got excited about were Nancy's ideas. She wanted to hear what Nancy thought about everyone, as if Nancy's thoughts mattered. And, as a result, Nancy grew up with the rare ability to think for herself. When everyone else was just trying to fit in, Nancy was thinking. She became a professor. And she has spent her life researching one incredible fact.

Nancy believes that the act of listening itself can change the world. She believes that when one person stops everything that they are doing and gives their undivided attention to another person, without judgement and without criticism, and tries with all their might to truly hear the thoughts of the individual in front of them, that the listener unleashes a great power in the speaker. And when that person is heard, they begin to feel safe to truly think deeply. And in the language of Scripture (not from Nancy) the logos comes into the conversation. And there is no telling what will happen.

Jesus walked into the temple with his disciples and he gave them a rare running commentary on what he saw there that day. There were the scribes, the teachers of the law, parading around in their robes. They loved to be respected and greeted in the marketplace. They said long prayers for the sake of appearance. And Jesus condemned them.

I always get a little nervous when I read these passages. After all, I wear robes. I parade around. I like to talk. Was it the robes that made Jesus mad? Was it the words? Was it the fact that they got paid?

I think that what made Jesus furious with the scribes and the Pharisees was one very simple fact: they did not listen. They were all about themselves. Their hearts were not open to God or to anyone else. The doors of their hearts were shut. They spoke prayers but they did not listen, meanwhile the holy one in the temple that day was a poor widow who put all her money in the collection plate. She did it quietly, but Jesus, who truly watched and listened, who saw the heart, Jesus saw her.

In fact, when you think of it, Jesus did teach and talk, but he also did an awful lot of listening. When the crowds thronged around him and they brought the suffering to him, before Jesus healed them, he always listened. He asked people what they wanted. When he looked at a person, he truly saw them, whether it was the rich young man or the poor widow. He saw directly into the heart of a person. And it was this fact that changed lives as much as the healing itself.

Some of the greatest learning experiences I have had have been in the office of a therapist or spiritual director. It is sad that we have to pay just to have someone truly listen, but I find it a relief to be able to talk about myself without guilt or shame. It is worth the money. When I was in my early twenties, I went to see a therapist who was a native American man. He was so kind. I was in a lot of pain at the time and I sat there and cried in his office for about three straight months. It took three months for me to even look around and notice the objects in his office. He was so attentive, so quiet. He would sometimes ask a simple question, or just smile at me.

After about six months, I was sitting in his office babbling about something when he interrupted me. I was annoyed that he would bust in on my monologue, but he simply said, "Kate, I'm sorry to interrupt, but look out the window..." and there was this beautiful buck staring in our window. He had huge antlers and he just stood there, staring at us in silence. I was dumbstruck.

About ten years later, I returned to Connecticut for a visit and decided to go to see this wonderful man and thank him for his listening. We sat in his office once more. I asked him if he remembered seeing the buck and he said, "Oh, yes. But do you remember what you were talking about at the time?"

"I have no idea," I said. "I was just babbling on about something."

"No," he said. "You were saying that you felt called to the priesthood but you wished that God would give you a sign that he wanted this of you. You just wished God would give you a sign."

I'm afraid that I began to cry again. I cried because God was listening. But I also cried because this old man listened and he never forgot. He was listening to me when I had stopped listening to myself.

This Veterans day, I want you to try to listen to just one person. Sit still. Don't let your eyes wander. Don't speak much. Just take a genuine interest in someone and really work to hear them. Listening to others is good practice, for when you can listen to others, you can listen to God. In fact, many times God will speak to you through others.

God bless those scribes and Pharisees. They thought so much about themselves that they did not listen. They forgot that God acts most powerfully when the logos has room to be heard, when we quiet down and make room for someone else to be wiser than we are. That is when great things happen.

Why doesn't God just fix us?: The story of a blind man

He had a father once. His father's name was Timaeus. We do not know what happened to his father. Maybe he was dead. Maybe he just could not deal with having a blind son. Everyone dreamed of having a son in Jesus' day. A son meant a future, someone who could make an income, someone to care for you in your old age. Timaeus must have been thrilled to have a son, to know that his bloodline would continue, that he would have help, support, recognition.

It would not have taken long for his parents to realize that their baby was blind. Or perhaps he had been born with some sight but it had been taken from him gradually, slowly, painfully. He could have fallen ill and lost his sight. He could have had an accident. Whatever happened, at some some point, Bartimaeus became blind. And, at some point, his family left him. By the time we meet him, he is alone. The son of Timaeus is alone and blind.

He sat beside the road on the way to Jericho. It was a good road to beg, narrow and windy. People who were traveling could not avoid the blind man. They could not pretend that they didnt see him. The road was too narrow for avoidance. No, people would have to pass right by and their discomfort, their shame, their guilt would sometimes bring them to give him food or water or better yet, money. And occasionally someone gave him something not out of guilt but out of genuine kindness. And these moments were probably like light itself to him.

Most blind people can hear really well. They must hear, it is all that they have. They are forced to depend on their other senses. Those senses sharpen. Bartimaeus must have heard rumors about this Jesus, the one who could heal, the one who performed miracles. He must have heard people talking as they walked, listened in on conversations as travelers processed what they had heard, what they had seen, as they discussed the way that Jesus looked, the miracles that he did. He cured the blind! The lame walked! The dead came back to life! They were saying that this Jesus from Nazareth was the Messiah, the Son of David.

Bartimaeus began to hope, you know that he must have begun to hope. Would Jesus ever walk his way?

Then, one day, he heard the name. Jesus was coming! Crowds were amassing in Jericho to see him. He would pass right this way, on this narrow road. This was the chance of a lifetime. This was the moment.

Bartimaeus was used to being shoved aside, ignored, even trampled in crowds. How would he get Jesus to come to him? How could he make sure that Jesus came, that he healed? The only thing he had was his voice. So as Jesus approached, Bartimaeus began to yell. People told him to be quiet. They told him to shush, but he ignored them. This was his only chance, the chance of a lifetime.

"Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" Bartimaeus was smart! He was acknowledging that he believed Jesus to be the Messiah. "Son of David," he cried out again, "Have mercy on me!!"

Jesus hears him. He hears the urgency in this mans voice. He hears the plea, the desperation, the hunger, the need. But instead of walking to the blind beggar who sat on the side of the road, instead of walking by him like everyone did and healing him on the way, Jesus stops and stands still. He tells his disciples to call the blind man. Jesus wants him to walk, to meet him on his own two feet. Jesus calls him to come.

And there is this moment when the blind beggar must get his rigid body off the ground and grope his way forward to the King of Kings. Only after his walk, only after he comes on his own two feet, in his sloppy, unsure, groping way, does Jesus heal him. And you would think that he would have walked tentatively, not knowing what was out there, but when Jesus calls him, Mark writes that he throws off his cloak and jumps up! He is bound and determined to seize the moment and find the Lord.

I find it fascinating that the Son of God made the blind man walk to Him. Why? Jesus had walked for hundreds of miles and would walk further still. He would have to pass Bartimaeus anyway. Why ask the poor man to get up and make such an effort?

Somehow, I believe that the effort was important. You see, when we ask God to fix things for us, God often wants us to go in on it with Him. God wants us to come first to Him, before all of our problems are solved, before we are healed. In fact, the healing often begins when we realize that the first steps must be in God's direction. You may think that the first and most important thing you need is for your problems to be solved, but the first thing is always to grope your way forward in the dark towards God, not knowing if anything will get better, not knowing if God will answer your prayers but somewhere, deep inside, understanding that it is your only hope.

It is hard to understand why the Maker of the Universe would want us to get up and walk. Why doesn't God just do it all for us? Why does God ask us to try stuff when we cannot see clearly, when we are not even sure what it is that God is asking of us? Dont you sometimes feel like you are trying to do God's will and you don't even know what that will is? That you are groping in the dark, hoping that at least your efforts please Him?

That blind man must have looked like such a fool, in front of all the disciples and the crowds. Jesus asks the disciples to call Bartimaeus for him. He does not do it himself, so the blind man does not even know the sound of his Master's voice. He has to walk around in the dark, listening to the movement, the beating hearts, the sounds of many voices. Until he finds the Lord.

The blind man is healed because asks, yes, but also because he gets up and goes out to find Jesus. He doesn't just wait for God to fix his life, he acts to fix it too.

Dean Jose Angel is here today. He is the Dean of the Episcopal Cathedral in Havana, Cuba. He lost his voice a number of years ago, and they tried everything that they knew how to in Cuba. But no one could heal his voice. He came to the United States, hoping to find some help for his Cathedral. He did not know how he could continue to preach without a voice.

Here, about one year ago, as Dean Jose struggled to read just a portion of the Eucharistic prayer, Dr. Ryan Uitti, a neurologist at Mayo, was watching and listening. After the service, Ryan told Dean Jose that he believed he knew what was wrong. His problem was neurological, not vocal. He began a treatment plan at Mayo. You will hear him celebrate today. His voice is coming back.

Dean Jose prayed to God for help, and then he asked for help and he came to us, and we came to him. And a miracle occurred.

Theodore Roosevelt once uttered these words in a speech in Paris, France in 1910...

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood: who strives valiantly...who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly."

Today, you will be invited to bring your pledge cards up with you to communion. You will be asked to place them in a basket before the altar of God. Some of you might feel like the blind man, groping your way forward, thinking, why should I give when I need so much? Why should I get up and walk forward and give a portion of my income to God? Why doesn't God just give to me?

God gives best when you give too. God gives best when you go in search for him with your whole self, with your body, your mind, your resources, your talents, your money. Get up and walk. Dare to walk into the arena of life. Haven't you ever wondered why we only bring communion to those who cannot walk to the rail? Its not for convenience, it's because it is essential that you get up and walk to Jesus. Even if you have no idea which way to go. You may need to grope forward in the darkness to find Him. But when you find Him, He will open your eyes more. You will see. And you will give thanks.

And so Bartimaeus, son of Timaeus, walked to Jesus, and his eyes were opened. And he gave thanks to God.

Eden and St Francis

Do you think that animals go to heaven?

Here is my theory. Ask yourself this: who got kicked out of Eden at the beginning? Was it the animals?

Only humans fell from harmony with God. Only humans have original sin. Only humans need to be baptized, to confess their sins. Animals need none of this. They never left Eden. When they die, the go to God. They never left, after all.

Bill was a therapist in a thriving hospital practice. He had been offered a job as an in house councilor in a big corporation. He did not know what to decide. One afternoon, he was walking down the street when he saw the door of a Catholic Church open. He went in, though he never went to church. He asked God what he should do. And he heard a voice in his head.

"I'll lead. You follow...All trust. No fear."

Brother Bill did not end up at either job. Instead he became a monk. He wore a robe made of patchwork from old jeans he had discarded. Every day, he goes out in the streets of Chicago and meets gang members on their turf. He calls them his brothers and they called him Brother Bill. He takes them around in his beat up old car. He takes them to the movies. When they get into fights with another gang and he gets wind of it, he comes to the scene and quietly just stands in between the gangs. One time a bullet flew very close to his head. Another time he was hit with a bottle but he did not move. He stands there, between guys who want to murder each other, he just stands there and loves them.

A saint is a crazy person. It is someone who does not see the world as we see it. They don't think down is down or up is up. They don't think that money is important or finding a companion of raising children right. They are so in love with God that they have returned to Eden. Being a saint is all about perspective. You have to fall in love with God totally and stop thinking like this world. When you do that, you begin to live in Eden again. Often people think that you are absolutely crazy. But hundreds of years later, they may realize you are a saint.

When Francis was a little boy, he saw a beggar. Francis was the son of a cloth merchant. He was in the town selling his fathers cloth. And there was this man who was hungry. Francis thought to himself, "This man is hungry!" so he ran after the man and gave him all the money he had made. When his father got home, Francis got severely punished. But the problem was that Francis did not see things as his father saw them. He saw a hungry man and he nothing else mattered but caring for that man, not money, not his dad's opinion, nothing.

Francis saw God in everything. He saw what God wanted and he saw what God made. It was as if he was already living in heaven. When his dad told him to come home, he said no, he was giving his life to God. His dad said, "Then give me your belongings." So Francis, in front of the Bishop and all the people, took off his clothes. All of them. And he stood, naked, like Adam and Eve. He was no longer concerned with what people thought of him. He thought only of God.

Francis saw this world as if it was Eden. When he saw a sunset, he would cry tears of joy at it's beauty. He spoke to the sun and the mom as if they were his companions. He held the animals and knew that they were precious in God's eyes, beautiful and valuable and magnificent.

Yesterday, Debbie our sexton found the body of a dragon fly. I stood before that dragon fly with some of the children and just stared at it in awe. It was so intricately made, so unbelievably beautiful! All the world could have just stopped for that one moment and witnessed its intricacy. That is how incredible is the handiwork of God. And Francis saw it.

Towards the end of his life, Francis got wounds in his hands and feet, just where the nails pierced Jesus. These wounds we now call stigmata. He did not show them to many people. He mostly hid them, but at was how deeply he felt the pain and joy of Jesus. He became just like Jesus.

Katie is a young woman in her 20's. In high school, she fell in love with God, like Bill, like Francis. She was homecoming queen and class president. But when she fell in love with God, she decided not to go to college but to move to Uganda. Because of war and a disease called AIDS, there are thousand of orphans on Uganda. Katie simply began to feed them and teach them about God. And then she started adopting. Now she is in her 20's and she has over 20 children. Is she crazy? Yes! Crazy in love with God. And supremely happy.

How much do you love God? Can you be crazy too? Or are you too afraid to let go of your reputation and your money? Look at these animals. You care for them. Don't you know that God will take care of you too? Look around you. Eden is still around us. It's called the Kingdom of God, but you have to Fall in love to see it. You have to let go of everything else to see it.

Submission

Jesus' brother, James, wrote long ago to the early followers of Jesus, "Submit to God."

I once counseled a man who at the age of forty had not yet married. The girl of his dreams was waiting for him, they had been dating for five years, but he would not marry her. So she was planning to move away. "I can't stay here, loving you and having you not want to marry me," she said. The man was distraught. He asked for help. When asked why he was so afraid to marry, he said that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to play golf.

Golf? What did that have to do with it? The man was afraid that he would have to give up his freedom, to put someone ahead of himself. He was afraid to submit to his wife. He was afraid to put her first, but there is no other way to have a successful marriage. We have to learn to put ourselves second.

The word to submit has taken such negative undertones. We think of it as an act of a weakling or a victim. It is a word used for abuse and oppression. But submission can also be an act of radical love, especially when it comes to God. To submit. The Greek word is hupotasso, upo means under and tasso means to place in order. Hupotasso, to place oneself under. Scholars believe it was originally a military term, meaning to place oneself under the authority of a commanding officer. The physical gesture associated with submission to God is to kneel or bow. It is a way of saying, "God, you are above me."

The disciples argued with each other about who would sit closest to Jesus in heaven. They knew that there would be a table in heaven, that they would be fed. But who would get to sit next to Jesus? Who would get the seat of honor? When Jesus asked them what they were talking about, their ambition embarrassed them and they didn't know how to answer him. "You must be like a little child to be with me," Jesus said.

When you ask God for something, what do you ask for? For health? For enough money? For a good job or home or successful business? Have you thought about what you are asking for? We all want health and success and popularity but are they really what we want? If the purpose of life is to sit near Jesus at the table, then maybe it is not good to put yourself first. Maybe you need to ask for what would make you more like a child. A child submits to the authority of the parent, it is part of the reality of childhood. A child does not always know what it best, so the parent must decide. Maybe instead of putting ourselves first, we need to follow James' advice and submit to God.

Just two weeks ago, the vicar of St. Mary's Church, Sue Carmichael, was attacked by a homeless man. I was early morning and he had come to receive some money. Damian was living in the woods. He had been drinking. Sue had known him since he was young. His mother was a drug addict. He was mentally ill. She had helped him for years. That morning, when he came in, he was holding a beer. "You don't want that," Sue said and she took the beer. And Damian went crazy.

He punched Sue in the face numerous times. Then he pushed her on her knees and held a knife to her neck. He is huge and strong. She was overpowered. But Sue said that she felt this incredible peace. She just kept saying, over and over again, "Damian, I love you. I love you. You don't want to do this."

Damian stood her up and put his big head on her shoulder and sobbed. "You have to call the police don't you?" he said. "Yes, I'm afraid that I do," she answered. Damian was taken into custody. Sue went to the ER, where she spent more time worrying about Damian than about herself. She is fighting for him to be put in a mental hospital rather than in jail. She fights for him.

Why was Sue not afraid? How was she able to trust, like a child? Well, for one thing, Sue Carmichael knows what to pray for. And she knows that her desires are not necessarily what God wants for her. So she has spent the past 30 years in Springfield ministering to the poor, the homeless, the mentally ill. She gives her money, her heart, her self. She knows what it means to be a baptized child of God. There is nothing to be afraid of. A baptized one already has everything that they could ever want.

When Damian brought her to her knees, Sue knew what it was like to be there. She did not try to get up, to fight him, to struggle. She stayed on her knees. She told him that she loved him. She trusted in the strength of God, not her own strength. She was not afraid.

In a radical act of submission, Sue was willing to die for God. She gave her whole life away.

Why are we called to give? To give is to visibly and practically put yourself under the authority of God. This pledge season, the church is going to ask you to pledge money. We ask you to do this first, before you decide all that you need and all that you want. Ask God first what He wants. Put his authority over yours. Be like a little child and ask your Father in Heaven to guide you. All the things that you want, they may not be what's best for you. Don't you know that there is so much more than just what we see before us? Don't you believe that God knows you better than you know yourself? Give, you baptized ones, and put God first in your life.

Oh, and my friend from my former parish, he did end up marrying his love. And he does play golf. But sometimes, when she needs him to be with her, he doesn't play but submits and loves her more.

James and Generosity

James was Jesus' younger brother.

I had a younger brother. I also have three sons, so I know the phenomenon of the younger brother. The younger brother, if healthy and outgoing, usually bothers the older brother. The younger brother is set to outdo the older. There is inevitable competition, envy, wrestling and yes, play.

Jesus lived with his family for many years. We do not know exactly how many, but he went back home with his parents at age eleven after being found in the temple in Jerusalem talking with the rabbis. From that point on, we hear nothing about his upbringing until his baptism in the river Jordan. But it can be assumed that he lived in Nazareth for at least a few years and continued to know and live beside his brothers.

James, along with his other siblings and his mother, came to Jesus after Jesus' ministry had officially begun. They came not to listen to his teachings but to make him come home. A crowd had gathered. James and his family declared in front of everyone that Jesus was "out of his mind." (Mark 3:21) and they tried to grab him. They wanted to bring him home by force, if necessary. All their experiences with their older brother told them that Jesus had gone crazy, that he was not acting like himself. Jesus' behavior was an embarrassment to them, such that they were openly hostile and tried to take him by force. They did not realize that, at Jesus' baptism, he had awakened to who he was. They just wanted life to go back to normal. They just wanted their brother back. What did they know about baptism?

After the resurrection, Jesus appeared to only one person who had not followed him in life. He appeared to his brother, James. I believe that James was able to see the risen Christ because, although he did not believe in Jesus, he did love him. He loved his brother and it was that love that opened his eyes.

Once James saw who his brother really was, James was baptized. Water poured over his head, just like it poured over your head, over my head. And from the moment he was baptized, James was changed.

Life cannot stay the same once you give your life to Jesus. Once the waters of baptism have poured over your head, everything changes. From that moment on, you don't belong to this world. You can avoid this fact and run from who you really are or you can begin to live into your inheritance and act like a child of God.

James would later write a Letter which was included in the Canon of the New Testament. He wrote that all of us who have been baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus are called to live out that baptism. If we do not act as baptized Christians, living for others and for God, we kill the faith in us. If we do not act baptized, our faith is nothing, it is dead.

Often when someone is baptized, we think, "Done! She is saved now. Heaven awaits her." And it is true that God opens the gates of heaven to those who are baptized but if they do not act on their faith, if they do not pray, and worship and give, then when the time comes to walk through that gate, they will not know how.

From the moment of your baptism, God says "Come Inside." "Come to me." " Feed my sheep. Tend my lambs." And from that moment, God will place people in your lives, people who need your help. And you must respond. You are called to be generous. You must give your life to God.

Jesus responded to those who needed him. When a woman who was not a Jew came to him, begging him to heal her daughter, at first he was rude. But her desperation reminded him of who he was. He was called to respond to all who crossed his path. Jesus, the Son of God, was himself baptized. And if we follow him into those waters, we must be willing to follow him out the other side and into the fullness of his life.

Do you remember the story of Corrie Ten Boom? She was a baptized Christian living in the Netherlands as World War II approached. She and her family aided the Jews in any way that they could. One day, a well-dressed woman came to her door with a suitcase. The woman explained that she was Jewish. Her husband had been deported and her son had fled. She was afraid to go home as the authorities had already come to her house once. Could she stay with them?

I want you to stand in the shoes of Corrie ten Boom and her family for a moment. Stand in that doorway. Corrie ten Boom could have said no. She and her family, they could have closed the door, and with good reason. To take in this woman meant possible death or imprisonment for them. They did not have enough food. There were a million reasons why this was not practical, not sensible. But the ten Booms knew who they were. They were baptized Christians. They did not put themselves first. They were called to give their lives away. Without hesitation, they took her in.

The ten Booms would house many Jews. They built a secret hiding place in Corrie's room. They erected a false wall behind her bookshelf. Just 30 inches, it was the size of a large wardrobe. But when the Nazis came arrest the ten Booms, six Jews hid in that room and were saved. Corrie's father and sister would die at the hands of the Nazis but Corrie herself would live to tell her story.

Do you really think you have a choice when that door opens and someone asks for help? Don't you realize that from the moment you were baptized, your life became God's own? And when the church asks you not for your life but for the simple act if giving money, don't you realize that generosity is part of who you are? Your money is not yours. It was washed away in baptism. You belong to God now and you live eternally with God. The generous life is what calls you now.

If Corrie had closed that door, James would say that her faith would have died right there on that doorstep. But she did not close the door, she opened it. She responded to her baptism by saying yes. How will you respond?

Words of Life

There is a video out on Youtube about a blind man. He is sitting on the sidewalk in a large city. He has placed a tin can in front of him and occasionally someone walking by drops in a coin.  There is a cardboard sign beside him that reads, "Blind. Need help."

The man patiently waits and listens to the sounds of people's feet rushing by, the sound of an occasional coin hitting the other coins in the can. After a few minutes, the man turns his head towards the sound of some high-heeled leather boots as they approach. The boots stop in front of the blind man. He reaches out and touches them, feeling their smooth leather surface. A young woman bends down, but instead of placing a coin in the can, she takes the cardboard sign and turns it over. Then she writes something on it and places it beside the man. She walks away.

Something has changed. Almost all the people passing by are now putting in coins. Some put in many coins at once. Some are stuffing in dollar bills. The man has to empty the can again and again.

Towards evening, the young woman returns. She stops in front of the blind man and he touches her leather boots. She bends down to talk to him.

"What did you write on my sign?" he asks.

"I wrote the same thing that you wrote. Only I used different words," she said.

The camera spans out so that the viewer can read the sign for the first time. It reads, "It is a beautiful day. But I cannot see it."

Words. They have immense power. They can illicit generosity or cut someone to the heart. What comes from your mouth effects not only you but those around you. You influence the course of your life by the words that you choose to use.

Andy was in fifth grade and he was on top of the world. He was swinging in the park beside Celeste, one of the prettiest girls in school. They were swinging higher and higher. "I am the king of the world!" he thought to himself. "I am smart, I am handsome and I am swinging with the prettiest girl in school!"

Celeste turned to look at him as they were swinging. And then she said it.

"You have an ugly profile."

Andy did not know what a profile was but he hated the word ugly. "What is a profile?" he asked.

"It is how you look from the side. You have a big nose," she said.

 

Andy swung lower and lower. He got off the swing and ran home, rushed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He had always thought he was handsome, but he had never looked at himself from the side. He turned his head. Sure enough, his nose stuck way out.

YOU HAVE AN UGLY PROFILE.

The words would stick in his mind for YEARS. The silly words of a fifth grade girl. And from that day forward, Andy never thought of himself as handsome again.

Words can redefine a person. They can drag you down. They can build you up.  But in our rush to get our words out, to accomplish more and say more, we forget that every single word we speak or write is full of power.

King Solomon was able to build an incredible temple to worship God. The Hebrew people had never dared to build a temple before. Yahweh was too vast, too mighty to be contained in a building. The reason that Solomon was able to accomplish this immense task was because of a promise that God had made to his father, David. God spoke to David, telling him that his son would build a temple. And these words were what made it possible for Solomon to conceive of such a thing. Solomon was given a word of encouragement from God.

What are the words that you speak to your loved ones? Do you build them up or do you tear them down? Do you realize the power of your words?

Jesus' words were so powerful that they could change lives. He spoke what he called "words of eternal life." These words could cause people to leave their work and their families behind and follow him. His words could provoke anger and hatred, even the desire to kill him. His words have echoed through the centuries, changing the lives of millions. To this day, we steep ourselves in the words of Scripture to ground ourselves and listen to God.

A pastor named Craig wrote about his life as a newly ordained minister. One day, a young man came to see him in his office. The young man was severely depressed. Craig had never witnessed someone in so much mental pain. He asked the young man, "Do you think about dying?"

The young man said, "Yes, all the time. All I can think of, over and over again, is how I should be dead. I don't deserve to be alive."

Craig was stunned. He had never heard such self-loathing before. "Please, God," he prayed. "Help me to find the words to say to this man..."

Craig jumped up and ran to his desk. He got out a piece of paper. "I am going to write numbers one to a hundred on this piece of paper. I want you to tell me one hundred reasons why it is good that you are alive; one hundred reasons why it is good for you to be here. I will sit with you for as long as it takes for us to do this."

The young man looked like a deer in headlights. "But I can't think of one thing!" he said.

"Yes, you can! Just start with one thing. One thing!!"

"I can write," the man said quietly.

"Great work!!" Craig cried.

Craig encouraged and coaxed and begged. Finally, after almost three hours, they had a list of one hundred things. The man left his office and Craig did not hear from him again. He prayed for this man every day for years. He did not know whether the man was dead or alive.

After almost ten years, Craig ran into the man in the grocery store. He told Craig that he was married, that he had a job. With tears in his eyes, he pulled out of his wallet a worn and crumpled piece of paper. It was the list of 100 things. He had kept it all this time.

Hold onto the words of life that are given to you. Pay attention that you do not utter words of hatred to yourself or others. If you do, fight those words of hatred with the Word of God, the Word of Life. 
In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth by speaking words. God said, "Let there be light!" And it was so. Words are the stuff of life itself, the stuff of creativity.

 

So my question to you is this: what will you say?

The Words of Life

There is a video out on youtube about a blind man. He is sitting on the sidewalk in a large city. He has placed a tin can in front of him and occasionally someone walking by will drop in a coin. There is a cardboard sign beside him that reads, "Blind. Need help."

The man patiently waits and listens to the sounds of people's feet rushing by, the sound of an occasional coin hitting the other coins. After a few minutes, the man turns his head towards the sound of some high-heeled leather boots as they approach. The boots stop in front of the blind man. He reaches out and touches them, feeling their smooth leather surface. A young woman bends down, but instead of placing a coin in the can, she takes the cardboard sign and turns it over. Then she writes something on it and places it beside the man. She walks away.

Something has changed. Almost all the people passing by are now putting in coins. Some put in many coins at once. Some are stuffing in dollar bills. The man has to empty the can again and again.

Towards evening, the young woman returns. She stops in front of the blind man and he touches her leather boots. She bends down to talk to him.

"What did you write on my sign?" he asks.

"I wrote the same thing that you wrote. Only I used different words," she said.

The camera spans out so that the viewer can read the sign for the first time. It reads, "It is a beautiful day. But I cannot see it."

Words. They have immense power. They can illicit generosity or cut someone to the heart. What comes from your mouth effects not only you but those around you. You influence the course of your life by the words that you choose to use.

Andy was in fifth grade and he was on top of the world. He was swinging in the park beside Celeste, one of the prettiest girls in school. They were swinging higher and higher. "I am the King of the world!" he thought to himself. "I am smart. I am handsome and I am swinging with the prettiest girl in school!"

Celeste turned to look at him as they were swinging. And then she said it.

"You have an ugly profile."

Andy did not know what a profile was but he hated the word ugly. "What is a profile?" he asked.

"It is how you look from the side. You have a big nose," she said. Andy swung lower and lower. He got off the swing and ran home, rushed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He had always thought he was handsome but he had never looked at himself from the side. He turned his head. Sure enough, his nose stuck way out.

YOU HAVE AN UGLY PROFILE.

The words would stick in his mind for YEARS. The silly words of a fifth grade girl. And from that day forward, Andy never thought of himself as handsome again.

Words can redefine a person. They can drag you down. They can build you up. But in our rush to get our words out, to accomplish more and say more, we forget that every single word we speak or write or email or text, every word is full of power.

King Solomon was able to build an incredible temple to worship God. The Hebrew people had never dared to build a temple before. Yahweh was too vast, too mighty to be contained in a building. The reason that Solomon was able to accomplish this immense task was because of a promise that God had made to his father, David. God spoke to David, telling him that his son would build a temple. And these words were what made it possible for Solomon to conceive of such a thing. Solomon was given a word of encouragement from God.

What are the words that you speak to your loved ones? Do you build them up or do you tear them down? Do you realize the power of your words?

Jesus' words were so powerful that they could change lives. He spoke what he called "words of eternal life." These words could cause people to leave their work and their families behind and follow him. His words could provoke anger and hatred, even the desire to kill him. His words have echoed through the centuries, changing the lives of millions. To this day, we steep ourselves in the words of Scripture to ground ourselves and listen to God.

A pastor named Craig writes about his life as a newly ordained minister. One day, a young man came to see him in his office. The young man was severely depressed. Craig had never witnessed someone in so much mental pain. He asked the young man, "Do you think about dying?"

The young man said yes, all the time. He said, "All I can think, over and over again, is how I should be dead. I don't deserve to be alive."

Craig was stunned. He had never heard such self-loathing before. "Please, God," he said. "Help me to find the words to say to this man..."

Craig jumped up and ran to his desk. He got out a piece of paper. "I am going to write numbers one to a hundred on this piece of paper. I want you to tell me one hundred reasons why it is good that you are alive, one hundred reasons why it is good for you to be here. I will sit with you for as long as it takes for us to do this."

The young man looked like a deer in headlights. "But I can't think of one thing!" he said.

"Yes, you can! Just start with one thing. One thing!!"

"I can write," the man said quietly.

"Great work!!" Craig cried.

Craig encouraged and coaxed and begged. Finally, after almost three hours, they had a list of one hundred things. The man left his office and Craig did not hear from him again. He prayed for this man every day for years. He did not know whether the man was dead or alive.

After almost ten years, Craig ran into the man in the grocery store. He told Craig that he was married, that he had a job. With tears in his eyes, he pulled out of his wallet a worn and crumpled piece of paper. It was the list of 100 things. He had kept it all this time.

Hold onto the words of life that are given to you. Hold onto them and repeat them to yourself, for they are words of life. Pay attention that you do not utter words of hatred to yourself or others. If you do hear hateful words, fight those words of hatred with the Word of God, the Word of Life. Read Scripture, repeat it to yourself. Use it as armor against the hatred which can be thrown at you at any moment.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth by speaking words. God said, "Let there be light!" And it was so. Words are the stuff of life itself, the stuff of creativity.

So my question to you is this: what will you say?

Wishing for Wisdom

When I was a little girl, I used to be fascinated with the story of Aladdin. I loved how he found a magic lamp and when he rubbed the lamp, a genie would pop out and grant him three wishes. I would play the genie game over again with my cousins. We would rub the lamp and the genie would pop out and the question was always, "What do you wish?"

In a similar way, God visited King Solomon thousands of years ago. His father David died after forty years on the throne. Solomon assumed the throne of a thriving, united kingdom. He was a good man, a solid man, careful and humble. He was so beloved of God and of the people, that God came to him to grant him a wish.

"Solomon, what is the one thing that you would ask of me? Ask and I will grant it." God says.

What would you ask for if you were Solomon, if God would come to you and ask you for anything? What is your hearts desire?

Solomon asks for something incredibly profound. He asks for discernment, for the ability to see and to understand. Solomon wants to be able to distinguish between good and evil. He wants to see more clearly.

The word for wisdom in the ancient Hebrew means to hear, to take in, to perceive. The Hebrew understanding of wisdom does not have anything to do with what you know or how many facts you can keep in your head. For the Hebrews, wisdom has to do with how well you can see.

When Mike May was three years old, a chemical explosion left him completely blind. He did not want his blindness to prevent him from living fully so he became the best blind downhill speed skier in the world. He married, had children and even ran a successful business. Forty-three years after his accident, he heard about a new surgical procedure that would restore his sight. Even though he had a full life, Mike could not wait to see again. He decided to have the surgery.

His family and friends decided to film Mike on the moment that they took the bandages off his eyes. His boys were going to walk towards him and he was going to see their faces for the first time in his life. They would record his reactions on film.

Everyone thought that it would be the most beautiful moment, when a father looks on the faces of his children, but something was off. Mike had a pleasant but forced smile on his face as his children approached him. There was a major problem. Although Mike's eyes were working properly, he was staring with total puzzlement at the world around him. His brain did not know what to make of the barrage of information, colors, shapes, light. Although his eyes were functioning, he could not make sense of what he was seeing. He could not see.

Think about it. Mike was like a newborn baby, taking in all this stuff at once. And he had learned by touching that walls move in a straight line so how was he to make sense of the fact that lines converged at a distance because of something called perspective? He had to learn how to interpret what his eyes were telling him.

We open our eyes most of the day. We take in images, sounds, but these impressions then go into our brains where they are interpreted. And if we are not careful, our brains do not truly see. Especially when we are viewing places that we frequent or loved ones whose faces we know well, we tend to forget to look. Our brain says, yes, I know that one, check. And we do not see clearly.

What Solomon asked was for the ability to open his mind to new input, to take in each new moment with fascination and with objectivity. He wanted to be able to see the difference between light and darkness, goodness and evil. He believed that this kind of careful observation was the essence of wisdom.

That means that if we want to be wise, we should not be so certain. Instead we should look with fresh eyes at everything each day, at our loved ones, at the events of our lives, at the tiniest flower, and with each new perspective, we should wonder what God is saying to us.

One of my favorite quotations of all time was spoken by a Hindu sage. When talking to his student, he said, "Don't seek God, see God,"

The question is not whether or not God exists, the question is whether or not you can perceive God. Or have you already made up your mind about how your life is working? Certainty, predictability, these things are comforting, but they are not so good for the spiritual life. For they tend to put us to sleep. Wisdom rests in the ability to stay awake and to look with fresh eyes at the world that God has made, the world that God has asked us to care for.

Jesus tells us that this stuff we eat up here at the altar is his body and blood. What does that mean? How can we open our eyes to what he was trying to tell us? Sometimes, I catch a glimpse of this gift and I cannot believe it, I cannot imagine something more generous, more beautiful that for God to give us a portion of His/Her very self.

If we could only see what it is that we have got here, what has been given to us, then there would be no evangelism, people would be lining the streets trying to get in here, to get some of the break, a sip of the wine, a portion of the very presence of God.

Years ago, a three-year-old girl in one of my parishes got busy in the nursery playing. She was so intent on her dolls and so happy that he mom decided not to disrupt her and did not bring her to communion. When the service was over and her mom went to get her, she started to weep uncontrollably. She could hardly get a word out. Finally, she sobbed, "I MISSED MUNION!!"

I heard her crying over missing "MUNION" and I was thrilled. We went to the tabernacle and got her some of the reserve sacrament and all the while, I was thinking, "This little one sees something here, she really sees something." I wish that that grow ups would cry when they missed MUNION.

Open your eyes. Do you see what has been given to you? It is too bright, too good to take in at once.

Sometimes, I wonder if angels and archangels are dancing right in front of our eyes, but we cannot see them because we have not yet learned how to open our eyes.

What would I wish for? It's right here, at this altar. I would wish to take communion with you.

Thou shalt not Covet

Today we return to King David. The greatest of all the kings of Israel, he ruled in Jerusalem and had everything that any man could ask for. He had multiple wives, treasures beyond imagining, he had power and prestige and respect and honor. He had more than a human being needs, more belongings, more physical intimacy, more children more everything. It is not good for a person to have everything that they want. It is not good for the soul, for we forget that we are human. We forget that we are limited, and our desire becomes larger than life. And desire, if left undisciplined, can become monstrous. Desire can turn into covetousness.

It can be unbearably hot in Jerusalem, so hot that one has to go outdoors searching for some kind of relief, some gentle breeze. David is on his rooftop seeking cool air. The rooftop of the king was the highest place in the city. From David's roof, you could see just about everything in the city. And below him, in plain sight, a beautiful woman was bathing.

It was her time of the month and because of the heat, she decided to bathe on the roof. And she was beautiful. And David wanted her.

One of the ten commandments is this: thou shalt not covet. It comes right alongside thou shalt not steal and thou shalt not commit murder. It is that important. Coveting is more than just wanting, it is when you begin to nurture the want, when you begin to wallow in your desire and listen to it as more than just a passing fancy. To covet is to massage the desire of something that you do not need, something that in fact belongs to someone else. And from the moment that you nurture that desire and take it seriously and obsess about it and give it energy, you have begun to hurt yourself and others.

David covets Bathsheeba. Instead of mastering his desire and saying no to what was not freely given, he begins to think these kind of thoughts:

I deserve her.

I need her.

It's not that bad. It's understandable.

I will not be Ok without her.

And his lust is massaged into a coveting, and from there it is a short step to adultery. From adultery, when she becomes pregnant, David moves on to basically murder her husband by placing him in the frontline of battle. You see, true sin has a snowball effect. One small lie becomes larger and larger until you are wreaking havoc on your life and the lives of others.

And David is so unaware of the horrors that he has committed that he does not even recognize a story that the prophet tells him about his very own actions. He is so wrapped up in his own needs and wants that he cannot see himself clearly. He has become so obsessed with his own needs that he becomes blind to his own sin.

I am grateful to live in this country. I think that it is the best country in the world. When I watch the Olympics, I cry and cheer and laugh and I am so proud of the USA. But as a people, we covet perhaps more than any other people in world history.

Our entire nation is built on desire. Commercials and billboards are designed to get us to want more, to buy more, to actually begin to believe that we need more. You need a big Mac. You need a manicure. My hairdryer broke this week and I said to myself, I need a hairdryer. Then I realized, do I really NEED one or do I just WANT one? Up to 50 years ago, most women did not have them here in America. Most women still do not have them. But buying a hairdrier that I may not need is not coveting. It is unnecessary but it is not directly harmful. But desire can easily slip into covetousness if we begin to think that we need something that will hurt us or something that belongs to another. Our covetousness leads us to believe that we NEED alcohol or drugs or sex or money, when these items should not be ours. That is when we become so wrapped up in our desires that we forget who we really are. That is when temptation becomes covetousness.

What are your true needs and what are your wants? Some of us don't want stuff, what we want is for people to agree with us, to think like us. So we fuss and argue and publish and protest in an effort to get everyone to think like us, when in reality, we do not need that. We become obsessed with the religious right or the liberal left and we spend all our time trying to get the other to think like us. Meanwhile, we lose our integrity in the process. We forget kindness and respect and openness to diversity of opinion. The world is much richer because we disagree. Do you really want to make everyone agree with you?

Or maybe you covet being liked. Many a life has been ruined by that false desire. For trying to get everyone to like you is virtually impossible and you will die trying.

This past week, I spent 5 days at a Trappist Monastery. We ate simply. We did not speak unless we were praying. We even woke up at 4 am to pray at one of 5 prayer services a day. I must admit that it was hard. I felt like sleeping in or dancing or yelling or just missing a service or two. I got mad at the monks for being so serious and thought of rushing out to buy ice cream (I know, I'm such a party-animal!) Late one night, I even watched movie previews on my iPad. But the moments of frustration were worth it, for I began to experience something infinitely richer than ice cream or movies.

I brought few clothes, no hair-dryer, some books. I felt like there was very little standing between me and God, just my own worries and my tempting laptop. I saw a turtle swimming in a pond and could not believe how beautiful he was. I ran outside to watch the rain fall at a coming thunderstorm and it was better than a great movie. I found a richness I have been missing. A richness that I can touch only here, with you at this altar. There was something much better there. And that something was so simple.

Jesus said, I am the Bread of Life. I am everything that you have ever longed for and will ever need. Right here, at this altar, God is giving you EVERYTHING you NEED.

So take your hunger, your lust, your desire for perfection, take your need to be liked, your need to fix the world, your need to always get along and refocus those desires on God and God alone. Until you do that, you will never be fulfilled. Bathsheebas are all over the place in this world, making you think that you must have them, that you cannot live without them. We must learn to master those desires that turn our attention from God and refocus on the bread of life.

What if we stopped coveting and started feasting on the true bread? Then the power of this Cathedral would be truly unleashed and we could change this city for the good. All of us, together. Then we could really live.

On Baptism

I am on retreat at a Trappist monastery. The place is so beautiful and so peaceful but it is full of boundaries. Signs boldly instruct: do not enter, silence at all times, exit by this door. It seems strange that a place called by God to welcome the stranger would be so full of boundaries and limits.

Because of my inability to enter the cloister where the monks spend the majority of their time, that place seems mysterious to me. I wonder what is behind the wall. I wanted to see, to touch, to be one of them.

The yearning for God is part of the Christian life. The inability to attain all that we want exactly when we want it is part of our fallen world. All humans yearn for what we cannot have. It is vital to occasionally say no to a child when you are parenting or that child will become troubled when they encounter the difficulties and challenges of the real world. They must understand that human life has limitations and requirements, that discipline is to be embraced.

The early Christians trusted in baptism as the initiation to the Christian faith. Catechumens or learners of the faith were told to leave after the Peace. They were not even allowed to see the consecration of the body and blood of Christ. The priest would shout, "The doors! The doors!" The catechumens would be escorted out and the doors were literally shut in their faces. The initiation process was difficult and time-consuming. They studied and fasted for forty days before their baptisms on Easter as the sun rose. And yet, the church grew and grew, for people long to be given a goal, a way to come closer to God.

We no longer close the doors of church to the unbaptized. We no longer ask more than just a simple meeting with a priest or perhaps a class prior to baptism. We invite all people to the altar rail and give the unbaptized a blessing. It has become so easy to receive the body and blood of Christ. I wonder, did the early Christians, in asking their new converts to work so hard to be baptized, give them a clearer understanding of the immensity of the gift that they were about to receive?

Now the Episcopal Church is considering open communion. We would give communion to all, without requiring anything, without baptism. This is born of a loving instinct, to include all people, not to judge, to love all. But what are the eventual ramifications of this? Will we be handing out communion to those who do not want to take the time to come to church at all? Will we do fast food Eucharists or drive-through communion, for those who cannot take the time but deserve it just as much as those who attend church? Where will we draw the line?

The word sacred or holy in the ancient Hebrew means set apart. The sacred has been set apart from the beginning of recorded human history, as a sign that God, though present in all things, transcends the ordinary and the mundane. That is why churches have been built, as signs of the holy presence of God, set apart and uplifted.

If we want to show Christ's love to the world, we must ask ourselves, "Does love always say yes? Does love never ask for discipline? Does love have no boundaries?" Americans resent being asked to wait, to yearn, to long for something. But perhaps holding up baptism as a rite of entry into the Christian life, though frustrating for many, increases our understanding of the need for humans to make a visible commitment to God. I know that many of the devout in my congregation long to be given requirements, long to be told how to become a member of the church and what is expected of them if they do. "What must I do?" they ask. "How can I draw closer to God?"

I will never forget the face of a young woman who waited all of Lent to be baptized at the Easter Vigil. At the moment of her communion, she experienced the holy, for she was invited to participate in something set apart. She had waited for communion, just as we wait for the coming of Christ in Advent. Her waiting itself was holy. She was truly included in the body of Christ and she was able to catch a glimpse of the immensity of that gift.

If boundaries and requirements are not loving, then the Trappist monks are not loving, for I have never seen as many rules as I do here. And I have never experienced such love as I do here, standing behind a cloistered wall, yearning to come inside.

Wounded David

En Gedi is a small oasis on the shore of the Dead Sea, in one of the lowest geographical points on the earth. Just off the coast of the sea are some cliffs with caves, where David used to hide over three thousand years ago. David was running away from the King of Israel, because the King wanted to kill him.

The story of King David rivals that of Jesus in its size and complexity. The life of David is described in such detail, with whole books of the Bible devoted to his person. And David's life was fascinating. It was like a soap opera, with intrigue and suffering, death and desire. Jesus was not ashamed to be called Son of David. Through almost all of his life, David's primary relationship was with God and no other.

It was God who directed the prophet Samuel to anoint David as the future King of Israel. It was God who gave David the strength and wisdom to fight the giant Phillistine Goliath and it was God who protected David when his idol and master, King Saul, began to go mad with jealousy.

David would play the harp for Saul, to quell his moods. David led Saul's armies into battle, but when David began to become more renowned than his master, Saul's spirit began to change. Soon Saul was hunting for David, eager to kill him.

So David moves from being beloved of the King to being hunted. And while he is running, he stops to hide in the caves of En-Gedi. David and his men go deep into the cave, where it is dark and cool, to rest. And who should come to the cave to relieve himself while they are resting, but Saul himself. Saul stands with his back to them, his front facing the opening of the cave, relieving himself. David's men make to kill the King but David quickly motions for them to stop. Quietly, he goes up to Saul's cloak and cuts a hole in it. When Saul is finished, he walks out of the cave. David waits until he has gone out a few yards and then he yells to Saul, "Don't you see that I am not out to murder you? I could have killed you just now. See, how I cut a piece out of your cloak? Please, I am on your side." But Saul will hear none of it and David once more must flee for his life.

When Saul and his son Jonathan are killed in battle with the Philistines, you would think that David would breathe a sigh of relief and take up his place as king. But he does not rejoice. He grieves. In today's passage, David weeps and sings a lament, for he loved both Saul and Jonathan and he will miss them dearly.

There is no real victor in war. I think we know this after so many years. No matter how justified a war is, no matter what kind of genocide we are trying to prevent or threat to peace has been set before us, the men and women who fight in battle come home grieving, for you cannot kill another human being without feeling a deep loss. There is no war without wounds. David felt those wounds even as he became king of all Israel.

David was a wounded warrior. He was not wounded physically, but mentally, as he lost his idol and his best friend to battle. And in that moment, when he cried out to God in pain, that was the moment that he became king. I think part of the reason why we love David so much is because his love was so great and he suffered terribly because of it. David writes a lament, a song of pain and sadness, as he pours his heart out to God. And strangely enough, David's moment of grief is one of the greatest moments of his life.

All of you will experience loss. Maybe you already have. Maybe the love of your life has died, maybe you cannot run or be active the way you once were. Maybe your children are leaving home. All of us will grieve something in this world. All of us will be wounded. And this moment of great weakness, when we realize that we were not strong enough to prevent death or tragedy, you will be faced with a choice. Will you feel sorry for yourself and be lost in self-pity? Will you suffer alone and diminish? Or will you go searching for Jesus? Will you share your pain with God like David did? David became greater in his weakness. Will you?

Jairus was the ruler of the synagogue at Capernaum. He was a man of prestige and wealth, a man who normally would have nothing to do with Jesus, a dirty itinerant preacher. But when Jairus' daughter was about to die, he became desperate. In his pain, he came to Jesus and begged for his daughters life. In his moment of greatest weakness, Jairus did the best thing of his life- he asked for help.

And Jesus came to him, because he asked from the bottom of his heart, from his poverty and his humility. Jairus came to Jesus as a wounded man.

I believe that this country is in a subtle state of mourning. We are divided along party lines in a way that we never have been before and this division, this hatred of ourselves is driven by grief. Because the security of our world was destroyed on 9/11 and we are wounded. Like someone who has lost a loved one, we have to say good-bye to the America that we once knew. Things will never be the same.

Today, let us remind ourselves that the greatest moments of life come when you acknowledge your weakness. Let us turn to Christ for help. We are in pain. We are afraid. Jesus, raise us to new life.

The church that I served in Kansas really began on the battlefield of France in World War One. A chaplain from Kansas named Otis Gray saw a soldier who had been shot and could not walk. The chaplain ran into the no mans land to grab the soldier. But the man asked for communion before he was carried to safety. So there, in the middle of that bloody field, Otis gave the man Christ's body and blood. And then he carried the man to safety.

The man survived and when the war was over, the two of them decided to plant a church. To this day, there is a glass case at St. James. In it is the small portable altar that the chaplain carried on the field, along with the flag, still stained with blood. The greatest moment of their lives, the place where a church began, was on that field. So don't you believe that God can do some of the greatest work with you at precisely that moment when you feel most wounded? Don't you believe that?

Facing Goliath

A salesman was in a therapy support group with a banker. Both men were recently divorced and trying to learn how to live as single men. They found the support group to be a source of strength, a place where they could be truly honest. Then the salesman ran into the bankers wife in the grocery store. They laughed and chatted. Next thing he knew, she had invited him over for dinner. And he said yes.

It's just dinner, Jim thought. It's just an evening. No need to tell Bob about it. It would only upset him, and nothing will come of it. We are just friends.

So he went to dinner. And it went really well. He had not laughed like that in years. He knew that he must tell Bob, that their friendship was important, but he could not bring himself to do it. He kept thinking about how much it would upset Bob, so when the support group met again, he just said that he met a woman and the whole group celebrated with him. Bob gave him a big hug. And Jim felt like a storm was brewing but he just could not face it. All he could do was wait.

No one wanted to fight the Philistine. He was a huge man, a giant. He had the best armor. He was just scary. So the Israelites sat there and waited in their tents like children. They sat there in shame for days. Until young David came.

He was just a boy. He had never fought in battle. He had no armor. He was small, a shepherd. But he was willing to walk into the battlefield alone and face a giant soldier. And the only reason he was willing was because he genuinely believed that God would win the battle for him. He saw not himself as fighting Goliath, he saw God fighting Goliath and he was God's servant. This was a battle that had to be fought and he was willing to face it.

David steps out into the field to face a foe that should have crushed him. And what does he fight with? He decides not to try to be a warrior who wields a sword. He doesn't know anything about swordsmanship. So David just does what he knows, what he does well. He gets out his slingshot. Gathering five smooth stones, he launches one right at Goliath. It hits the giant in the forehead and the giant falls. Goliath falls from a simple stone cast by a simple boy, a boy who was willing to look trouble in the eye and do all that he could to face it head on.

The disciples couldn't face the storm as they saw it approaching that evening. They saw the clouds, the rain and they couldn't do it, they were terrified. But instead of running or hiding, they did something right. They called on Jesus. He was fast asleep, unconcerned about the storm, so they woke him. Jesus stands up, faces the storm and says just one word. Peace. And the storm clouds fade.

Why is it that we are afraid to face conflict? Why do we do all that we can to run from the storms? Jim did not want to tell Bob because it would be painful. Jim thought, "It will hurt Bob, it will cut him to the bone to know that I have betrayed him, but if I refuse to see her, I will have to confront her and I will have to say goodbye to the most hopeful relationship of my life." The difficulty was so great that Jim hid from it, and his avoidance only made things worse. The storm got stronger, fed by his neglect.

We do all that we can to avoid pain in life, to protect ourselves against the storms, the battles, the conflicts that come to us. But there is no way to get away from pain in this world, it is like trying to walk between the raindrops. You cannot avoid conflict in this life. If you try to run, you will only make it worse. At some point, you and I are all going to have to step out alone and face Goliath.

What does Goliath look like? A troubled marriage. A problem with alcohol. Realizing that our children are in pain or that we have not been happy in our career for years. And we don't want to face it. We want so desperately to pretend that everything is OK. Because we don't think that we have the strength to fight.

But if you sit long enough in your tent, Goliath will come to you. David knew this. The storm will come. So call on Jesus to stand there with you. And find out what you are good at. Fight the storms of life with whatever God has given you, your writing or your art or your voice or your music, fight with exercise or friendships or whatever it is that you love. Bring your best gifts to the battle, no matter how insignificant they may seem, for God can do so much with so little.

The Assistant Bishop of Peru is here with us today. He is here to pray with us because his people are desperately poor and they are trying to build churches on mountainsides in desolate areas. They need our help. The Goliath's that he faces are large and insurmountable. They are poverty and hopelessness. But he comes to us to face these problems head on, to do what he does best which is to pray and ask for help. He comes to one church in Jacksonville for one smooth stone to sling at the forces of darkness. He comes for our generosity and our prayers.

It is so hard to look life straight in the eye, to go out and meet her. It is hard to get that checkup when you think something might be wrong but you don't really want to know. It is hard to realize that you are not happy and to ask yourself why. It is so hard not to just run and hide, but storms only gain speed and momentum when they are ignored. So stand up, like Jesus did. Stand up, like David. Look at them. There are always storm clouds of one type or another in our lives. They change size and shape but they are always about, the storms of life. Look at them square in the face. See where they are and choose your weapon. Then walk into battle.

You do have one incredible weapon to take with you through all the challenges of life. You have a tremendous secret inside your heart, a knowledge that makes you immensely powerful, no matter what the outcome.

The secret is this: No matter what happens to you in this life, the battle has already been won.

It has already been won.

The Madness of Humanity

I knew a man who took no risks. He lived by this philosophy, "The devil that you know is better than the devil that you don't know." In this way, he stayed put with things as they are. When he was offered a new job, he refused to take it, even though he did not like his current job at all, but the new job might be worse, he'd think. He lived in a big old home that cost him a great deal to keep up but when we suggested he downsize, he claimed that something worse was sure to happen to the new home. This was Samuel the prophet's tendency as well, to stick with what he knew. Samuel did not like change. But Samuel was also a prophet and when the rubber hit the road, he did what God asked.

At first, Samuel did not want to anoint a King. God was supposed to be King of Israel and when the people asked for a human king, Samuel the prophet was disappointed. He hated the idea and the subsequent change that would ensue. He refused until God reminded him who was in charge. After some discussion with God, Samuel annointed Saul.

Saul was like a movie star. He stood a head taller than everyone else. He was so handsome, there was no one who could hold a candle to him. He was one tough, super-hero type guy. So he was the best and most obvious choice for king of Israel. He was everyone's first choice.

Saul ruled for a number of years before he began to crack. Maybe it was his handsomeness that led to him thinking too much of himself. Maybe he became used to getting his own way, to being honored, revered. Whatever happened, Saul began to do what he wanted instead of what God wanted and from that moment on, he was doomed.

God abandoned Saul and told Samuel that it was time to anoint another king. Samuel did not like the idea. Well, technically, Saul was still on the throne. And Samuel did not like change. He was used to Saul, faults and all. Samuel grumbled, but finally agreed to listen to God's instructions and go to Jesse's house to anoint a king.

Samuel travels to the home of Jesse. There is this great scene where Samuel watches as the sons of Jesse are paraded in front of him in the order of their birth. They are so tall! They are so handsome! This must be the future king! Samuel thinks. Or him! Or him! But God does not want Samuel to anoint any of them. None. Samuel begins to feel crazy. Did he come to the right house? Did he get the message straight? He sits there, dumbfounded. And then he asks the most important question of his life.

"Are these all of your sons?" he asks.

And finally, the little boy who tended the sheep is brought forward. And Samuel anoints him.

David will become an even greater king than Saul but he just did not look like the rest. He was so different.

Human beings are a bit mad. We live in a state of delusion. Christians call it sin. Hindus call it maya, or delusion. All of the great religions of the world agree on this point, that humans are a bit crazy. We have the capacity to do wonderful things but also the capacity to live our lives in a state of madness. This madness stems from our belief that things must stay the same. We make maps for ourselves, maps of how our lives ought to progress. From an early age, we draw up these maps based on the expectations of our parents or friends, pictures that we create in our minds of what success should look like. We then spend our lives listening to these maps, trying to follow them instead of listening to God.

I need to get married. I need to have kids. The kids should behave and do well in school. There should be harmony. Whatever our maps are, we keep looking at them and trying to force our lives to look like them. We stop listening, meanwhile God is parading the king in front of our eyes, but he doesn't look like what we expected so we pass him by.

King David has become the quintessential king for all Jews all over the world. Ironically, the young boy who was almost passed by has now become the new ideal. The Messiah was supposed to look like David, which was why so many people refused to recognize Jesus, because he did not act or look like what they expected. But everybody forgets that, at the beginning, no one thought David seemed kingly at all.

Jesus said that God' kingdom is like a mustard seed. It surprises you. What seems insignificant can make a huge impact in the world while the most impressive things just fade away. In other words, God's plans are so surprising but they are so much better than our crazy old maps.

Look at Lady Julian of the 14th century. She lived alone in a room. She wrote about God in such a way that most people thought she was mad. She called God he and she. She told us that everything would be OK in a time when plagues coursed through Europe killings thousands and God was seen as scary and unpredictable. Her writings were lost only to be found centuries later, at a time when we can see that she was a true prophet. And now her writings are read all over the world. She is famous and she never left her room. No one could have ever predicted that she would touch so many lives. She broke all the molds, erased all the maps, and did just what God asked of her.

The National Episcopal Church will meet in a few weeks to discuss the future of the church. Controversial issues such as the blessing of gay relationships and if we should give communion to people who are not baptized, these issues are on the table to be discussed and pondered. But the deeper question which underscores everything is about the future. What will our church look like in 50 years? This Cathedral is a rare beacon of growth and hope in a time when many Episcopal churches are shrinking and even dying. Denominations themselves seem to be blending together. What is to come next?

If we look to the story of David, we must believe that something new and unexpected will happen, that the church will change and it will look different than it has looked before. But we also will learn that it is God alone who knows what it will look like. Our job is to put aside our maps, our thoughts of the way that things should be, and listen. God will identify our new leaders, our new ways and hopes and dreams, but they may look very different from what we expected.

I love how, when Samuel has seen all of the brothers, he does not just leave in frustration, but he asks Jesse, "Are there any others?" He sticks around to ask the question which results in David's appearance.

That is what we should be asking God every day. Is this what you want? Where is my next step? My life may look different than anything that I could have imagined. Is this what you have in mind for me, God? Not my will, but yours be done.




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