My friends, the readings for this Sunday really call us to consider how strong our faith is, and if we place that faith in our loving God who at times, can feel somewhat, “intangible,” or do we place our faith in the more “tangible” things of this world—people, material possessions, and so on?

   The characters in today’s readings from the Old and New Testaments are having this same struggle, so looking at their experiences can perhaps guide our search. 

   We all know the story of our Old Testament brother Job, which isn’t included in today’s 1^st reading, but knowing that story helps us better understand the text that we do have today. Job, as we know has lost all that was important to him in his physical life; wife, children, animals, his health, and at one point, even the respect of his neighbors who couldn’t understand why he would not turn his back on his God who in their minds had caused all of his loss, or if not, certainly didn’t stop it!

   In today’s 1^st reading a voice rises above the storm, answering Job’s question of where God was in all this turmoil.  God’s simple answer to Job is—“I have been with you always!”  My friends, our struggles throughout life often call us to this same question—“God, are you there, do you care that I am suffering?”

   God’s answer, spelled out to Job in this 1^st reading should be taken to heart by us as well—“If I could control the chaos that creation was, I can control and support what is happening to you as well!” 

   We don’t fully understand why suffering happens in our lives and if truth be told, most of us would just as soon, it pass us by.  It is one of those things that we can only see in an unclear way—around the edges, as Paul speaks of in another place. 

   I always find that looking to our brother Jesus, to see how he reacted to what his life brought, gives me strength to do the same. In his humanity, as his life was ebbing away on the cross, his struggle to keep believing that his God was, “still with him” is expressed so poignantly in the words, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” But through his patience, and his prayer, we know that Jesus’ faith was sustained, as in the end, he could say, “Into your hands God, I commend my spirit.” 

   With Jesus, as Paul tells the Corinthians in the 2^nd reading today, “the old order has passed away…now everything is new!”  Jesus was constantly looking at his world, turning things upside-down when needed to insure that everyone had a chance at a full life.  He asked and continues to ask today that his followers do more, be more, but at the same time, he doesn’t ask more of us than he is willing to do himself.

   I am presently reading a quite, wonderful, new book about Jimmy Carter by Jonathan Alter.  The title is, His Very Best: Jimmy Carter, A Life.  There came a time for this ex-president, who had always considered himself quite religious, when he was compelled to move to a new place in his religious/spiritual life.

   Being from Georgia, he grew up and into manhood during a time in the south when the racism that undergirds our nation was coming to the forefront, demanding justice.  Being that Jimmy had many political aspirations, he often straddled the fence, not speaking publicly about what, in his heart, he knew to be wrong—it was often a delicate dance for him even after his faith told him that he couldn’t just “talk,” but had to “walk” what he supposedly believed. Jimmy found the words of a Baptist minister at this point in his life most compelling.  The minister asked, “If you were arrested for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict?” 

   My friends, faith for each of us can be a slippery thing—Paul prayed during his life— “I believe O God, help my unbelief!”  Our humanity gets in the way for us just as for the apostles in today’s Gospel from Mark.  They are dealing with their life-long nemesis, “the sea” and they are afraid.  And to make matters worse, their friend and teacher, Jesus, whom they have seen heal and care for others, is asleep!

   It is almost comical to read, even in its seriousness, as Jesus—now awakened by his fearful followers, asks them, “Why were you so frightened?” (Where’s your faith?)  I too find myself convicted by Jesus’ question, “Have you no faith?” As we all know, “faith” is most often easier to talk about, than it is, “to have, to act upon, in times of trouble.  But then Jesus does, what Jesus always does—he calms, he reassures, he brings peace, and the apostles can only marvel, and hopefully we can too when we are afraid—“who is this that even the wind and sea obey?”

   Sister Ilia Delio speaks most beautifully in her book, The Emergent Christ about “this something new” that Jesus is doing in the lives of us humans who are trying to believe.  As the “Christ,” Jesus, she says, becomes so much more in our lives, and to so many more than as “Jesus” alone.  As the “Christ,” Jesus is basically, big enough to be meaningful to all, showing all human creation how to become all that we were meant to be, and in fact, she calls that, “heaven.”

   Jesus, through the calming of the sea, shows his apostles and us a greater truth—no matter what befalls us, with God by our side, we have no need to fear.

   And my friends, with that assurance, we can do the good in our world that Jesus did in his, and when we are afraid, especially if it feels like we are standing alone, we must remember that we aren’t—that he is right there with us.

   This is the real Eucharistic revelation that needs to happen in our world—that we, each of us becomes “the bread, the body of Christ here, now! Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, our Jewish brother spoke well to the issues of where is religion today—why it is declining, and I will end with his words, which I have shared in the past, but which bear a re-hearing:

       It is customary to blame secular science and anti-religious philosophy for the

        eclipse of religion in modern society.  It would be more honest to blame religion  

        for its own defeats. Religion declined not because it was refuted, but because it

        became irrelevant, dull, oppressive, insipid.  When faith is completely replaced by

        creed, worship by discipline, love by habit, when the crisis of today is ignored

        because of the splendor of the past, when faith becomes an heirloom rather than a

        living fountain, when religion speaks only in the name of authority rather than

        with the voice of compassion—its message becomes meaningless.

Amen? Amen!    

My friends, all the readings for this weekend are mostly quite positive in speaking about our relationship with our loving God, especially in the person of our human brother, Jesus, who became the Christ.  Paul tells us in the second reading to the Corinthians that “we walk by faith, and not by sight,” and we realize how true this is, especially in the statement that I made above about, “Jesus becoming the Christ!”  We do truly take this on faith that indeed our God is big enough to be “meaningful” to all, in all—as the Christ!  Now, if our Church hierarchy could be more inclusive in how they look at who God may indeed be!

   The images given us in each reading are about “growth” and what happens, or can happen when a power (God)—Someone, or something is alive and well in our lives.  Ezekiel speaks about this force as the Cedars of Lebanon, as does the psalmist in the selection from #92 today.  Cedars were large, massive, and strong trees in their time, akin to “God” in their lives—able to protect and care for them. 

   Mark’s gospel speaks of the mustard seed which is said to be the “smallest of seeds,” yet grows into the “biggest of shrubs,” and even the “birds of the air nest there.” 

   Now, we probably can all agree that these reading selections for today should not just be taken on a merely surface level, because then what we have is simply some nice stories about how trees grow. No, God and God’s prophets have more in mind for us. 

   Ezekiel’s first reading can be taken as a great comfort in our attempts to follow Paul’s command that, “we walk by faith.”  The prophet Ezekiel tells us that “the tall trees, God stunts, while the low trees, God makes grow.”  Perhaps a statement on how our God will always lift up the “lowly” first! And the psalmist suggests, seemingly in agreement with Ezekiel that “the just will flourish like the palm tree.”  The psalmist continues, “Our God is just, my Rock…[who protects].

   So again, so much here in these readings about “who God is for us, how this God will be present to us, and with us, how God wants us to live, and how this same God will protect us.  I would encourage a re-reading of Ezekiel’s reading this next week if we are needing comfort in “walking by faith,” when we don’t have full “sight.” 

   I am sure each of us can look back at times that required us to “walk in faith,” when we weren’t sure of the outcome, and perhaps we would say that God’s Spirit was with us, giving us the strength to move ahead when we couldn’t yet see the outcome—times when we made life choices, for education, marriage, having children, purchasing a home, and so on. Each of you, along with me, “walked in faith,” in starting and participating in this parish—one that the hierarchy of our Church often called, “playacting.” For me, I have always looked at what we do here by its “fruits,” and as long as I see us growing spiritually and doing the good that God calls each of us to, we will continue. 

   In Mark’s gospel for this weekend, the mention of that “smallest of seeds,” the mustard seed, is such a wonderful way to think of something “small” –the invitation from our loving God, to do something capable of becoming life-giving in so many ways, such as our beloved AAO experiment here in Winona. 

   This past week, I had the opportunity to travel back, as it were, in my memories to a time as a young, married woman with small children, when I was part of a rural parish—Immaculate Conception—Wilson, the parish where Robert and I married each other over 50 years ago now, and had our children baptized.  The passage of time with the deaths of many over the years, changing spiritualities, the clergy abuse crisis, and other matters, caused the numbers attending to dwindle, to the point that the powers-that-be determined that it was no longer a viable parish, and with the shortage of male priests, could no longer be kept open.

   The church was officially closed two years ago and has been used since as an oratory, for funerals mainly, but weddings too.  The meeting this past week was to determine what, practically speaking, needs to be done with the church building going forward. 

   I was saddened to realize that the over-riding decision seems to be that the building will be taken down—demolished possibly within the next year.  I don’t say this with any animosity per se toward those wanting/needing this end, as I haven’t been an active member there for many years, but only in a general way toward our Church that doesn’t seem to be more creative, in its many church closures, of its “temples” housing so many wonderful, memorable, and poignant spiritual memories of a community, than to simply, tear them down.  Where are the pastors, leaders, filled with “mustard seeds” who might see such situations as “closed buildings” and envision “greater shrubs” of new life? –offering perhaps spaces to house the homeless, or as fixer-uppers for just the right family. 

   It is at times like this that beyond, “walking-in-faith,” that I also need to have “hope” that our “better angels” perhaps can break through in our world.  We need such a Church as well as a State, where actions such as our United States Supreme Court voted on Friday—to appeal the ban on bump stocks for semi-automatic weapons making them ever more deadly, would be looked at more through a lens of common sense, and goodness, than mere law.  Let us pray friends this week for more life-giving actions, as well as write letters demanding better of these “interpreters” of the law.  And finally my friends, in these times that try our faith so much, let us hold onto hope for each other, me for you, you for me, and keep on planting the “small seeds” that we know can and will grow!  Amen? Amen!