My friends, this week, once again, we are called to humility through our readings from Wisdom literature, from Paul and from Jesus.  We are also called to seek out wisdom through our religious traditions in order that we might live our lives in a more wholesome and unified way.  Each of us has grown up learning to be obedient—to follow rules our parents gave us to keep us safe—“don’t play in traffic;  rules the Church gave us to guide our religious upbringing—the Ten Commandments.

When we were children, the rules gave order to our lives and we learned that it was better to obey than not, because there were consequences if we didn’t.  As adults, we continue to obey, because there are still consequences if we choose not to, but with more maturity, we begin to question and to reason—“is this the best thing for me to do? Who is helped by my action? Is the world any better because of what I am doing?  Is this action just about me or someone else’s selfishness?”  Rules of wisdom and further commitment—the Beatitudes and the two Great Commandments guide us in addition.

There are so many choices in our current society—sometimes our decisions are simple to make and it really doesn’t matter—other times much comes into play and we simply have to decide using some of the questions that I posed earlier.  Does this action hurt or harm others?  Is this action ultimately about love?

In the reading from Philemon today, we get a good example of this.  Paul is posing a moral question to Philemon, who is a slave-holder.  Onesimus, the slave mentioned but not named in this reading, has run away and has found an advocate for his cause in Paul, who tells Philemon that the decision is his to make, but he appeals to the baptism that joins him and Onesimus.  He asks Philemon to see Onesimus, no longer as a slave, but as a brother.  And Paul will not demand this of Philemon, but as he says, “I prefer to appeal in the name of love.” When we act out of true love, we can never really go wrong.  And this doesn’t mean that we necessarily choose the easy way—true love calls us to make hard decisions at times.

The society of Philemon’s day said that slave-holding was acceptable, but his baptism in Jesus, says the opposite; so Philemon must decide—what is the right thing to do?  And the question is ours to ponder too—what effect do my actions have on the greater world? What in effect does Jesus ask of me?  Paul asks Philemon to welcome Onesimus as he would welcome Paul—basically to consider Onesimus, the slave, as equal to himself and to Paul because of his baptism into Jesus, the Christ.  And we shouldn’t be surprised by this as this is the same Paul who also said, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, male nor female”—all are one. Each of us friends, face like questions in our day-to-day living. Who is helped, who is harmed by my decision—often it is not a clean, clear decision.

We have all been taught to respect the law and those who enforce it, but we have seen a rash of killings recently perpetrated by police who are supposed to protect, but instead appear to be ready to kill without question if the suspect is black.  A recent example is telling.  A young black boy was chasing a ball and found himself pursued by policemen who apparently thought he was up to no good.  A contingent group of neighbors who saw what was happening surrounded the boy shouting, “Don’t shoot, he’s just a boy!”  And the boy, what could have been going through his mind?—probably his young life flashed before him.  Thankfully he had some concerned others who stood up for him!

Jesus’ words are equally challenging for us today.  This particular gospel is always a hard one for people to get their hearts around.  I say, “hearts,” because we can many times rationalize our actions to do something that our hearts won’t allow if we are tuned in.  Can Jesus actually be asking me to turn my back on my family as a result of being his follower?  That seems very harsh and who can actually, literally, do this?

I believe we have to come at this gospel from a couple different sides, as we do with many of Jesus words, always remembering that his words are multi-layered.  First we have to understand how the people of his time would have heard his words.  One’s family was everything to them—their lifeline really, in connection with the larger world. It was your family who stood by you, no matter what—these were your people and this meant something.  This was especially true for women and children as we have discussed before.

Today our connections to our immediate families may be strong, but they generally aren’t a person’s only lifeline in the greater world. So how are we to look at Jesus’ words?  Are we literally being called to turn our backs on our parents and family members in order to follow Jesus?   The Scripture seems to be saying, “As a Christian, we give up forever our right to choose who we can love.”

Our decisions to love the one that nobody loves may come between us and our family, but Jesus’ message to us is clear—as much as we may love and care for our families, we must as Jesus’ followers ultimately do the loving thing, at times speak truth to the lie that some are not acceptable, are not good enough, even if that runs counter to our familial relationships.

The writer of the Wisdom selection for today’s liturgy says it a bit differently, but seems to point up the fact that we cannot know the mind of God.  We do know though from everything that Jesus says elsewhere about loving our neighbor as ourselves, that he doesn’t want us to turn our backs on our loved ones.  I believe what Jesus is trying to tell us as we care for family, friends and others is that we remember that our actions must resemble his in order to truly be his followers.

The CBS nightly news carried a very poignant story in this regard this past week. A group of college football players visited Montford Middle School in Tallahassee, FL to share some time and pizza with the students there. Wide receiver, Travis Rudolph sat down next to a student who was sitting alone. Turned out that 6^th grader, Bo Paske often sits alone as he lives with autism and most of his classmates choose not to sit with him. Travis Rudolph found him to be, in his words, “a cool person” and said he would “sit with him any time.” Bo’s mom was overjoyed because it breaks her heart to see her son being treated this way by his classmates and all because they haven’t gotten to know the boy she knows and loves. Rudolph had no idea that his seemingly small action would mean so much.  Often this is true for us as well—it’s not always the big things, but the ordinary, day-to-day kindnesses and gestures that mean so much.

We don’t always follow the wisdom writer in all of our decisions—sometimes we choose out of selfishness and greed—“this will make me look good in others’ eyes,”  instead of just doing it because it is the right thing to do. Sometimes we act out of our own personal need to be loved. Sometimes we act out of ignorance—helping when it might be better to hold back, and we enable bad behavior by giving someone something they needed to earn on their own.  Sometimes we act out of arrogance thinking we know what is best for someone, when ultimately, only God knows.  We don’t as humans always choose wisely; that is why it is so important to keep our eyes on Jesus.

These are hard sayings, no getting around it! Wisdom today says well, I believe, what we feel from time to time:  “For a perishable body presses down on my soul, and a clay house weighs down the restless mind.”  All of our human weaknesses as described above, our selfishness, ignorance and arrogance get in the way of our ability to truly do the loving thing at times. Those of you in our community who have lost loved ones know too of how this “clay house” of our bodies can weigh one down.  Those who struggle in this world with mental illness, with poverty, with people shunning them for one reason or another know the press of the perishable body and the “clay house” that can weigh us down.”

So, my friends, I would invite each of us to walk in humility with our God in order that we would understand that which is needed to live our lives well, always keeping our eyes on Jesus who shows us the way.  He asks nothing of us that he didn’t ask of himself.  So, let us strive to be people of truth, mercy, justice, love and care in regard to ourselves, others and our world.  We must ultimately never let anything or anyone get in the way of fully following Jesus.  I believe this is what he truly meant when he said, “if you can’t turn your back on mother, brothers, sisters; you can’t be my followers.  God bless us all in this endeavor as we cry out with the psalmist today:  Make us realize the shortness of life—in every age O God, you have been our refuge.  Amen? Amen!

 

 

 

My friends, our readings today call each of us to honesty in our lives.  Who are we? What do we want others to think of us?  Who are the people who know our names? Which circles do we travel in? Do we read all the right books? Do the parties that we throw include only the people who are “somebody?”  What truly is the treasure that we seek in our lives?

Sirach, in our 1^st reading today tells us in no uncertain terms that humility should be a guiding force in our lives.  And that should be coupled with gentleness.  We are told not to be someone greater than we are or strive beyond our means.  Now, of course there is a fine line between being content with what and who we are, and sliding through life doing as little as possible.

Sirach is certainly not giving us permission for a laissez-faire sort of existence, but a coming to terms with our abilities—who we in fact are, acting accordingly, and always remembering from whom the ability to do all that we have accomplished, comes.  The greater we are in the eyes of the world, Sirach instructs, the more we should behave humbly.

This reminds me of this past weekend.  You all know that in my absence on last Saturday, I was officiating at the wedding of two gay men, friends, both by the name of John—some of you met them last spring when they visited here. We sealed their love at St. John’s (no less) Episcopal church in Minneapolis as it was there that they were welcomed and I as a woman priest was also welcomed to conduct a Catholic Mass, which the guys expressly requested.

The Mass, the vows and the reception later were filled with emotion as these men publically gave voice to what has been in their hearts for several years.  Their families and friends gathered with great joy to celebrate their public commitment to each other.

And amid all the joy, there was the expression of family members coming to terms with having gay sons and brothers and finally being able to listen to who they said they are. In addition, there was the added layer of their Catholic faith, and a Church hierarchy that doesn’t wholeheartedly embrace them, certainly wouldn’t have witnessed their vows.  And finally, throw into the mix, a woman priest, an element that some present struggled with.

But I believe by the time we finished the Mass wherein I officiated the public expression of their love for each other and their commitment to be true to each other for life, there was less struggle on the parts of all.  When you can lay the law onto the human condition and give it a face, the objection doesn’t seem to be so important.

The parents of the two men were following the law and presented themselves for communion with their arms crossed meaning that they wouldn’t be receiving, but that they clearly wanted to participate. Two of the parents told me afterward that they wanted to participate and had asked their parish priest beforehand if they could receive, explaining the situation of me presiding and my brother priest said, “No,” because the bread, “wouldn’t be consecrated.”  They told me they didn’t really believe that, but clearly were in a quandary, so presenting themselves as they did was the way they could participate, which I affirmed.  Their other comment to me was that it was, “a beautiful ceremony.”

At the reception, there were many lovely examples from family and friends, sharing of how they knew each of the Johns and a theme that ran through each of the sharings was of how there was an obvious difference in each when they came into each other’s lives.

I want to share one comment that our daughter-in-law Lauren made that speaks so well to the struggles of gay people in this world.  Lauren knew one of the Johns before she knew our son, Isaac and said, “I’ve known John so long that I knew him when he was straight!”  That caused me to reflect on how our Church and society lifts up for individuals the norm—heterosexual living and pairing off so that gay and lesbian, bi-sexual and transgender folks have to come to terms with who God made them to be and ultimately to rise above the untruths, the ignorance and the arrogance of those in power who don’t allow, nor embrace who people truly are and as a result, make life so much harder to live.

I, as a woman priest struggling in a world and Church that is still so patriarchal, get that.  Hillary, striving to become president of the United States, a position that has been dominated by men gets that as she realizes that she is held to a higher standard and scrutinized more severely than any man would be—this would be true no matter who the woman is that attempts to break the glass ceiling.

So, my friends, Sirach and Jesus call us to honesty—to the search to be who we truly are, who God made us to be and a piece of that honesty is then to humbly serve in the ways we can in a world where we are ultimately all one,

moving in the same direction toward a God who loves us beyond all imagining and wants us then to be open to the gifts in all our sisters and brothers, to the diversity in gender, race,  and lifestyle expression and to see in all of that the face of God.

This reminds me of a book that I just finished reading by Richard Rohr, entitled, Things Hidden, Scripture as Spirituality. In a section on the great love of God for us, for everyone, no exceptions and not when we get it all right, but now, just as we are, Rohr says, “God does not love you because you are good, God loves you because God is good.” That is one to pray over!

Difference is not a cause for shunning and punishment but for joy and delight in being able to witness all the ways that we as humans can express what it truly is to be human—to be of God—to be divine. Amen? Amen!

Friends, each of us has been given life—a gift by our Creator in order that we can have a human experience and all that it entails.  Hopefully, we can come to experience being loved while here because ultimately we came into being from a God who has loved us beyond words.  We know this to be true from stories like the Prodigal and the woman who lost a coin and turned her house upside-down to find it. Parables like the Good Shepherd and the Good Samaritan describe over-the-top love for us as creatures of a magnanimous God.

When we remember; we must be filled with gratitude for such love and endeavor to share that love with others.  Sometimes life in its ability to give love isn’t always kind to everyone.  That is where we as Christians, followers of our brother Jesus must step in and pay forward the love we have graciously received.  Recent scriptures let us know that Jesus expects those of us who have received much to give more.

The readings for this Sunday lay out the perils of being a prophet.  We see what happens to Jeremiah in the first reading, spoken of by many exegetes as the “reluctant prophet.”  Jeremiah apparently had a tender heart and felt that he didn’t have the stamina to speak truth to people who didn’t want to hear it.  In our human nature this is understandable, but Jeremiah finally realizes that God believes in him and will give him the strength needed for what needs to be done.  Even those who don’t want to hear and do violence to Jeremiah are upstaged ultimately by compassion.

Each of us friends, even though we may feel like Jeremiah and perhaps don’t want to be bothered, must realize that we gave that up when we said “yes” to Jesus. Our “yes” only is true if indeed we stand up for those who are misused and abused, who live their lives lacking justice.

We see from the gospel additionally, the cost of discipleship—Jesus tells us he means to set a fire upon the earth and he wishes it were already here.  That line from scripture has always intrigued me and I read it to mean that our brother Jesus wants each of us to be so ignited with love that nothing will stop us in following God’s call to let everyone know that they too are loved.  And like Jesus, we show our love through action.

There were of course those in power who didn’t want to hear this message because it threatened their control and place in society and in synagogue—today read, church—sharing and caring and dispensing justice to all is generally not part of the agenda of those in control.

And so that brings us to the cost of discipleship.  Jesus minces no words—your family and friends may turn against you for demanding a love that includes all.  And even though this may be hard to bear, we each need to ask what is most important to us and then move ahead.

In the time of Jesus, he was asking a great deal of his followers as family—kinship was everything to these people.  Your good name, your family meant the difference between physically living and dying and if they turned against you, you were literally lost.  Today, we value being individuals and our independence, so family may not be as important in a physical sense. Our connection to family tends to be more on the emotional side—the place from where we came, how we make sense of ourselves in the world. This past Friday was the 30^th anniversary of my dad’s death and even though the relationships in my family of origin tend to be somewhat dysfunctional, our dad was always the unifying force and we all felt he left us way too soon. I shared some pictures on Facebook of him and tagged my siblings and once again, our dad was that unifying force for a stroll down memory lane.

But during the time of Jesus, connection to family was really more of a practical consideration even though the emotional component may have been present too. We are made with physical, emotional and spiritual components and each can be tested as we endeavor to be true followers of our brother Jesus. I well remember the reaction from family and friends when I announced my plans to become ordained in response to God’s call to do so. There was overall great support for my action, but I was surprised by some of those, friends and family who couldn’t support me. Each felt, as did I, that they needed to follow their hearts.

The human reaction was more understandable than the reaction from the Church hierarchy wherein one would expect the Spirit to be alive and well. Because I and my sisters who had chosen to follow the Spirit’s call in challenging an unjust law concerning who God had called to ordained ministry, we were accused of being unfaithful and untrue to the Church—that we were a source of confusion to the people. Jeremiah and Jesus were accused of the same.  The cost of discipleship!

My friends, speaking up when we are with family and friends, for truth and justice—acting in ways that might set us alone in the crowd is what Jesus meant by setting a fire upon the earth. Being his follower is not a “milk toast” proposition!  We pray with the psalmist today, “Come to my aid, O God.” The writer to the Hebrews instructs us to remember Jesus and ultimately take strength from him so that we will not grow weary.

As I have said so many times before, the Sundays in Ordinary Time call us to anything but “ordinary” challenges.  We are called to rise about that which is lowest and most base in our human natures in both rhetoric and action and strive along with Jesus to set that fire upon the earth which melts hearts, clearing the way for a love which includes all. We really can do no less my friends—we are hard-wired for all that is just, all that is good and we must demand it of our leaders, both social and religious and we must begin now! Amen? Amen!

 

Friends, last week we were asked to consider, “What are those things in our lives that truly last—to consider what it is that we strive after, and to ask, ‘Am I on the right path—is there more peace in my life because of how I choose to live my life?’  Am I in fact growing closer to the One I profess to follow, the One who is the way, the truth, and the life; or am I adrift and lost?”

This week we are challenged to consider our faith, what is it that we believe? I reflect back to the few times that I have baptized individuals into our faith community, one being our grandson, Elliot, or of when my own children were baptized. When the one to be baptized is an infant, the parents, godparents and all present are asked to answer questions about commitment and about what they basically believe.  Of course the child can’t answer at this point and the fact that the parents, family and community answer the questions, speaks to the fact that they will attempt to be good role models for the child.

As the child grows, she/he will act in accordance with what they see lived out in their parents’ lives and the lives of others who are close to them. When I baptize, I tell the parents during the service, and I know I heard these words at my own children’s baptisms, “You are your child’s first and best teachers” which underscores their responsibility to show their child “the way.”

The fact that parents ask for baptism for their children says that they want them to be part of a community that tries as well to live out what they say they believe.  Jesus tells us all today, “Wherever your treasure lies, there your heart will be as well.”

When I was still working as a chaplain, staff members would occasionally ask to have their babies baptized. Somewhere in their history was the notion that baptism is an important thing to do for their child, even though they weren’t always sure why.

I would always ask if there was a faith community that they were part of as I told them that baptism is meant to make us part of a community of believers who will help them in their responsibility toward their child to basically show them the way to live.  Either I would invite them to come to our community or help them get connected to another.  If they came out of a Catholic background, I would always try to dispel their urgency to baptize because of “original sin” and instill more of a notion of their child as an “original blessing” and to take their time to find the right fit of a community for them.

Let’s look at this idea of faith then and consider what it truly means for each of us.  We often hear the adage, “Seeing is believing.”  With faith, it has been said that the opposite is true—“Not seeing is believing!” When we consider our faith, we realize how often this is the case. We believe, we trust—we hope about many things that we aren’t totally sure of.

I have many times had this conversation with people when they are considering the after-life. No one who has gone on before us has come back to say that heaven exists, but yet most, if not all of us professing Christians believe eternal life with God is a reality yet to be experienced.  When we consider heaven, most of us, in the past and perhaps even now consider it a place we will go to one day.  Maybe that place is here, but only with a heightened awareness.  We don’t know. When we consider the reality of eternal life, the words of the writer to the Hebrews today come to mind, “Faith is the confident assurance of what we hope for, the conviction about things we do not see.”  This is one of those lines that rings like a bell upon our hearts and one we recognize even if we aren’t the types to remember bible quotes, book and verse.  I want to repeat that line: “Faith is the confident assurance of what we hope for, the conviction about things we do not see.”

Faith is indeed a gift—no getting around it. It isn’t something we can sit down, study about, think over and then say, “There, I’ve got it—I believe! Faith is something that tracks us down over a lifetime, through the ups and downs—all the experiences of life. And this is especially so when we say that we don’t believe. When we are perhaps angry with God for what feels unjust and believing becomes hard. For me, faith has grown more through the wonder of life—in an exquisite sunrise or set—the first time I looked upon the faces of my new-born children—upon that of my grandson at 3# 2oz., so tiny, yet so perfect! At such moments—one can only say, “I believe!” And in the times when it is difficult to believe, I hold on, as you do.

Faith it seems, gives us reason to get up each day, to keep hoping against hope for better times, for fulfillment of dreams that await the age when all will be at peace, when all will walk hand in hand, when we will go to war no more, when there will be no distinctions among us—not gender, not race, not age, not lifestyle differences; where we will truly see God’s face clearly, “Not as through a dim glass,” as Paul says, but as God truly is, and we will then finally understand all. I recall a parishioner’s words recently, talking about God and God’s simplicity—so different from what we think of who God is.

Our readings today from Wisdom, Hebrews and Luke each give us pieces to hold unto in our grasp of the faith.  I have already mentioned the line from Hebrews about “confident assurance” which leads us to wonder where that confidence comes from.  Wisdom tells us that “devout parents beget devout children.”  Again, we reflect on the sacrament of baptism and the challenge to the parents that their child will be as faith-filled, good, compassionate and loving as they themselves are!  A child that is loved and made to know of their true worth, first to their parents and others and ultimately to God, will grow up as fruit that falls not far from the tree.

Wisdom continues; holy people share all things—blessings and dangers alike.  Our faith is based on our God having been faithful in the past.  When Abraham considered if he could trust God, there seems to be no doubt, even when he was asked to give his son, Isaac.  Abraham knew of God’s goodness in the past and even if his son would die—the one from whom his generation, that would be as many as the stars in the sky and the sands on the seashore, would come; he knew God could and would bring him back—such was his faith!

Now that is quite a faith! I think many of us feel we would be hard-pressed to believe so steadfastly, yet life calls each of us, at times,  to put all our trust in God when we can’t truly see the outcome and simply believe that as Julian of Norwich said so well, “All will be well, and all will be well.”

Looking back again at Abraham and Sarah, and seeing that even though they were, as Scripture tells us, “as good as dead,” they trusted in God and God’s promise that a child would be born to them, the beginning of a great family. But we know their truly human response when the word came, in their old age, after waiting their entire married lives for this to happen, that they too would be parents—Sarah laughed and probably Abraham too and thus their child, Isaac, which means, “he who laughs, was born! But Sarah and Abraham, even with their great faith, struggled to believe—this is good for all of us to know.

Sarah gave her servant girl Hagar to Abraham because she worried that no children were being born, even though this caused her great pain to see another woman have the child that apparently wasn’t, to come to her, but she did it because she believed so completely in God’s promise—she believed that God would be faithful to the promise even if she might have to intervene to make it so.  This couple exemplifies perfectly the words of the Hebrew writer, “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen.  This action on Sarah’s part calls each of us to ask if we have done our part in making that which we hope and pray for in our world to come about.

As we reflect on these readings today, we see that peoples’ faith is built on what came before them—God can be trusted because of past promises fulfilled.  The Hebrews looked to the example of Abraham and Sarah as proof of God’s faithfulness.

The gospel of Luke calls us to realize that we are the recipients of so much faith lived out in those who have gone before us—we may possibly think of our parents and grandparents in this regard.  We are now the stewards of the gift of faith and it is our duty to carry it on with the integrity of past figures—certainly in the footsteps of our brother, Jesus.  Peter asked, “Are your words just for us, or do you mean them for everyone?

Jesus responds, “Much will be required of you who have been given much—more will be asked of you to whom more has been entrusted.”  Jesus is never easy on us when it comes to passing on the mission which he lived and died for.

But if we can keep it simple and keep it in focus—we only need to remember—love God and love our neighbors as ourselves—anything we are about in life; we can ask the question, “Are these two commandments violated in any way by what I am proposing to do? We then know how to proceed.

Yesterday, August 6^th marked the 71^st anniversary of Hiroshima Day in 1945—the day our country dropped a bomb equivalent to 20,000 tons of TNT on a people.  We have talked about this in the past, but a review of it is always important so that we never forget.  And just to put it all in perspective, the largest bomb during World War II was equivalent to 100 tons of TNT—the Hiroshima bomb was 20,000 tons. Today this is considered a small bomb because we now measure bombs in megatons and one megaton is equivalent to one million tons of TNT.  It would seem to me that these actions wouldn’t pass the two great commandments’ test—to love God and others as ourselves.

Joan Chittister, in reflecting on the actions of this day asked this question: “Does that sound like the presence of God to you? She also reminds us that August 6^th ironically, is the feast of the Transfiguration, the awareness of the apostles that Jesus, alight with God, brought divinity into their midst.  She concluded with this challenge—“When we become aware of the conjunction of these two things on the same day, we become mindful of our obligation to bring Jesus into chaos again.” Wow!  Let me repeat that ….When we become aware of the conjunction of these two things, Hiroshima Day and the Transfiguration, we become mindful of our obligation to bring Jesus into chaos again!”

When we reflect on our mission in this world, first as divine beings birthed by our God to have a human experience while here, and as followers of Jesus, the Christ, his final words to us give hope and strength in our ability to truly make a difference; “Remember, don’t be afraid, I am with you all days, even to the end of time.”

So friends, it would seem that we are called to keep looking to our brother, Jesus, keep checking his words, keep striving to be our best selves, striving to bring to each situation that component that is, as Joan Chittister says, “alight with God!”