This Sunday’s readings deal with death—and there is no getting around it—people have struggled with this question and the inevitability of our finiteness since the Garden of Eden—so we can hardly think we will be exempt from the struggle—the pain of death in our lives.  Why do people have to die, especially the ones we love and care most about in our lives?  That is the initial, albeit, selfish question that we all struggle with.  Beyond that, as we grow to hopefully become more altruistic, we extend our care to the wider world and ask the same questions that involve more of humanity—why is there fighting and killing, war;  poverty that takes life just as surely as a gun would? Why is there ignorance that blinds people to all that they can be?—and the list goes on that makes life less than good and abundant.  Pope Francis has basically asked our world these questions in his new encyclical, Laudato Si and has challenged us to look for the answers and he is wise enough to know that we all have to be part of the process.

Paul looks at this issue too today as he tries to instruct the Corinthians in how to care for others and for themselves, suggesting, striking a balance. He reminds the Corinthians of some words of wisdom and compassion: “The one who gathered much had no excess, and the one who gathered little, did not go short.” We are called my friends, to make sure that everyone has enough. When I first put down some of these thoughts three years ago, these were topics of concern in our country, as they are today.  Unfortunately, we have not yet allowed ourselves to see how we might fix this imbalance, although there is hope in the Supreme Court decisions concerning Obamacare and Gay Marriage rights this past week.

As we look at the readings chosen by the Church today for us to ponder, we see clearly how people have struggled through time with these same questions.  We even see in the Scriptures in general—over and above the chosen readings for this Sunday, that there isn’t a clear answer we can point to and say, “Ah—there it is, that explains why we die, why we suffer.”

In Genesis, Chapter 2, we read that God is responsible for death, “The moment you eat of the tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, you are surely doomed to die.”  In Genesis, Chapter 3, we read that the punishment for sin is not death, but pain and suffering—“until you return to the ground, from which you were taken.”  Now clearly these two stories don’t agree and it is important for us to understand that this ancient story is a reinterpretation of several earlier myths made into a new story.

The Israelite version of Genesis is trying to explain and make sense of evil in a world that was created good.  And apparently, they didn’t do such a good job of it, because people still want to know why a good God allows bad things to happen to good people.  Unlike earlier peoples who believed the world was made up of two warring deities, one responsible for good, one for evil; we are monotheists—believing that one God is responsible for everything and therein lays our problem—perhaps.

Now the Wisdom selection–our first reading for today makes some interesting claims: 1) God did not make death and 2) by envy of the devil, death entered the world.  All that can be said is that this is an example of later generations trying to make sense of the Genesis passage that seems to be saying that God is the author of death, either as a punishment or as an end to suffering.  Also, it is interesting that Genesis doesn’t name the devil as the serpent and doesn’t mention envy.  So much for the literalists out there!

Our Church follows a 3-year cycle of readings that instruct us on how to live our Christian lives.  Since we last shared these readings, three years ago, that ask us to look at death, some of you have lost significant loved ones and friends—some life partners.   Each year that passes brings each of us closer to our own deaths. Death is a reality and it can be painful when it happens to us or a loved one.  It is painful for many reasons.  Perhaps, if the death was unexpected, we regret what we did or didn’t do or weren’t able to do—maybe we are just grieving the loss of someone who meant so much to us.

Sometimes our society wants us to hurry our grieving along.  Some religious folk might insinuate that to grieve the loss of a loved one is bad or lacking in faith.  I would say that such thinking is misguided.  It is good to remember that even Jesus, in his humanity, wept at the death of a friend.  Death is an end to a part of life and it is the human condition to grieve the loss.

In bereavement work, we say, if you can get up each day, put one foot in front of the other, engage life—then grieving it quite normal. We never forget, nor should we, the loss of someone we loved. Sometimes we can only walk blindly through the mystery as did Jairus, the synagogue official who sought healing for his daughter from Jesus, even after he learned that she had in fact, died.

Hope is what we ultimately seek as we ponder the death of family members, friends, and our own death, for that matter. It might be that rather than questioning, “Why we die?”—we should ask instead, “How do we deal with the inevitability of death,” when we know that in fact it will come to each of us one day? When we are well, most of us don’t look forward to our lives ending—we look to the joy of experiencing life, even with its ups and downs. This life is all that we know—the life beyond, promised us, which we believe in, we don’t know, and can only walk in faith toward.   When we or our loved ones are incurably ill, we almost welcome death to have the suffering over with—several in our community were there this past spring. Your walk in faith, for, and with them called for great strength and patience.

The Gospel today gives us some insights into how we can deal with the inevitability of death—two life situations—the woman with the hemorrhage and Jairus, the synagogue official whose daughter has died.  First off, don’t you wish you knew the name of the woman with the hemorrhage? This is quite a person of faith—a real gutsy woman.  As you know, women had no status in this culture, so neither of the females is named in today’s gospel. These wonderful stories proclaim the compassion of Jesus for those who suffer—reminding us of what we can expect when suffering comes to us.  We must always remember to call on Jesus to be our strength in these circumstances.  Jesus demonstrates power over death in both situations—and both people needed a great deal of faith and trust to act as they did.

Our unnamed woman who was ostracized by the community over a flow of blood—something not understood, was set apart and looked down on out of ignorance.  I think it is significant that she isn’t even given an identity, but known only by her affliction.  People do have identities, and are not merely afflictions or individual body parts that need fixing. We do need to take them seriously—hear their stories as did Jesus in today’s gospel. It is good to remember that our brother Jesus was always turning things upside-down and calling us to be more than our humanity wants to be at times.

As an aside, this past week, a lively discussion ensued on Facebook, much to my delight, over the phrasing, “you guys.”  As advocates of the term will tell you, this phrasing means to include everyone and is used unfortunately at times, when only women are present. This for so long has seemed to be my issue alone and I have been told by my loving husband that this is one that I’m not going to win, even though he is very supportive.  So, to see a group of people advocating that we find words that do include us all made my heart sing!

Also, this past week, I have been part of the General Assembly of the Rochester Franciscans as a co-journer.  Nancy Sylvester, an Immaculate Heart of Mary sister was our main presenter and she helped us to understand in depth how different people come at the same problem with a different viewpoint based on what has influenced them in their lives: culture, tradition, religion, science,  and so to understand and work with each other whether a community, an organization, a family, whatever the group, we need to acquire good listening skills, patience and compassionate hearts. And when we disagree with someone, we all know how difficult it can be to hang in there and find out why someone feels and acts as they do, because if we would ask another question rather than walking away in frustration; we might come to understanding. This kind of process is very important when working in groups of people that we truly care about.

Looking again at the poor, unnamed woman—we already know of all the taboos that women in this society lived with that made them unclean each month.  This poor woman experienced hemorrhages for 12 years—we can only imagine the pain and isolation with which she lived.  Perhaps this made her faith all the stronger—she may even have felt that she had nothing to lose in asking for Jesus’ help. Often friends, this is the case—out of great suffering can come great strength of character—great faith—great determination.  I know if I were to ask each of you in this community who have walked through the death of a life-long partner, you would tell me that while painful, you are stronger for what it called forth from you.

Focusing again on Jairus, he believed not only that Jesuscould heal, but more importantly, that he would heal. Jairus and the unnamed woman trusted this truth.  Jairus came to Jesus knowing that his daughter was gravely ill and even when he learned that she had died, he blindly trusted.

Even though the two stories offered today for our reflection remind us of Jesus’–of God’s great compassion for us, they might mislead us too—if we think our faith will ultimately save us from death. Even though the unnamed woman and Jairus’ daughter experienced healing in time, they were not saved from the death that would eventually overtake them. God always means to heal us for there are many ways to heal—in other words—God always answers our prayers—gives us something.  Because we share the human condition, we are not spared from ultimate death.  Even Jesus had to go through that ultimate human ending.

Issues of life and death and what we are called to as followers of our brother Jesus demand strength, faith, and compassion and if we can take anything from today’s readings, let it be that we ask the right question—not, why death?–because none of us will escape that—but to ask—how do we live with this reality?  It would seem that trust is a significant part of it.  Life and death literally asks us to place ourselves in Jesus’ loving hands. The question we must ask then is if we believe and trust that we are safe there, not knowing exactly the outcome, but trusting that we will be cared for just the same.

Life is made up of living and dying; physical, emotional and spiritual happenings. The Rochester Franciscans, comprised of sisters and co-journers came together this week to share all that is good in this community, along with discussing what the future of this order will be as sisters age and very few come to join them in the same ways as in the past. It would seem that the face of the order is changing and perhaps the increasing numbers of co-journers signals what the face of the order will be in the future.  All of this calls for dying and rising, for great faith, patience and a deep listening to each other and the movement of the Spirit. May her wisdom truly be our own.

Someone once said, “The greatest cry of anguish the world ever heard, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” was answered by the greatest act of love the world will ever know—the resounding silence of God.  I think within this statement lies the mystery of divine love, something that many times is beyond our comprehension.

Why do people suffer?—why is there sadness?—why can’t we all understand each other better?  Sometimes I am amazed with how someone perceives something I’ve said or done—completely opposite of my intention.  I find myself wanting to cry out, “Why would you think that I didn’t want the best for you? Why do you choose to see the glass half-empty instead of half-full?” We are all wonderfully made, yes, but we are also so human, so prone to see the down side of things, not able because of what life may have done to us, to look up.

Also, and so many times, this is true, how we respond to a life situation is more important than what happened.   Sometimes the most loving thing to do is not to answer immediately, but to ponder the best response.  Just last week, I spoke with one of you about knowing how best to answer a person we love, with true love, perhaps saying what the person needs to hear, but which wouldn’t be perceived by them as words of love.

In our Gospel today, Jesus had the sea under control—he waited though to calm the waters in order that the apostles would learn that they need to believe and trust in him.  Now, in order for us to understand where the apostles were coming from in their fear, it is important for us to remember that they had a long history of fearing the sea—their people lived with raging waters overflowing on a regular basis along the Tigris and Euphrates rivers—this had spawned fear and made them respect the power of the sea.

Also, within Scripture, we are painted a picture of the sea as a hostile, angry place.  The Israelites were not a sea-going people so they naturally feared what they didn’t understand.  To redeem them from captivity in Egypt, God seems to turn the sea monster upon the Egyptians in the Red Sea.  The understanding of this chosen people is that the sea is tamed only after a fierce struggle, in most cases. We see this same idea of the sea being a bad place in the Psalms and the Prophets too.  So Scripture draws upon this tradition of the hostile sea to instruct us about God’s strength to quiet the storms in our lives—to calm our fears and bring us peace.

But as we see from Paul’s instruction to the Corinthians today—Jesus was about doing something new—in this case, it was to grow their faith and trust and ultimately prepare these apostles for all that would befall them later as Jesus’ envoys.  A careful study of the Gospels shows us that indeed Jesus was always “pushing the envelope” so to speak—asking more of his followers and friends than they were accustomed to.  He never though asked more than he was willing to give himself. All of salvation history—the First and Second Testaments of our bible, reveal to us a God who does indeed care for us and is constantly leading us to more.

Several of you have lost loved ones this year and in the recent past, and as you know, the grief and struggle go on as you come to terms with all that it means to lose a spouse, a parent, a sibling or a close friend.  When you watch a loved one suffer and die, there are many emotions, some you didn’t know you had.  Within that range of feelings may be a lack of understanding as to why we must go through this process.

In my continued reading of Ilia Delio’s, The Emergent Christ, she tackles the transition of our earthly bodies to what comes next and basically says, Christ, who is more than Jesus, is calling us to what we were ultimately made for in the first place and in this new form, which actually takes place here, not somewhere far away; we will become complete, see with new eyes, become the fullness of how we were wonderfully made.  Jesus has shown us the way in his life, death and resurrection and we call this, heaven.

What we have received in Jesus is the same love and care of God, but revealed in a human face, complete with heart and mind, in our likeness.  Jesus, through the calming of the sea, their mortal enemy, was trying to help them understand that there is literally nothing to fear with God by their side.  Sometimes, as with the apostles, when God knows that our faith is weak; we are asked to wait and grow our faith too.  Sometimes, in the silence, the dark night of the soul; we find the answers we never would have, had our request been answered immediately. Even with Jesus on the cross—he found the strength in his humanity and through the grace of Abba God to say, “Into your hands, I commend my spirit.”  When we look at the Scriptures and the loving way that Jesus always was with those who suffered, we can be sure, that even in the sometimes silence of our God, that same God never leaves us.

Our first reading today from Job shows us a bit more of the faithfulness of God for suffering humanity—our poor friend Job is always raised in conversation when we need an example of what might befall us in life and of how we should respond.  Job, as you know, lost everything of value in his life—his family, his goods, his land—yet he did not curse or forsake God as everyone who knew him suggested he do.  He did cry out to God and ask why, to which God responds very simply—don’t you think that the one who has control over the unruly waters can support you in your struggle?  We recall Jesus’ words to the apostles in today’s gospel—“Why are you so frightened? Have you no faith?” And how about our faith—just what do we believe? Again, Jesus is calling us this week and always to more as God was calling Job to more—leading him and us to realize that the Providence that sustains the entire universe also sustained Job and will sustain us within it.  The God, who spoke to Job, speaks to us today and through Jesus is all-powerful and all-caring.   The human condition my friends is that we can’t see that, but yet our God in Jesus, lovingly and continually calls us to that realization.

Paul, in today’s second reading apparently had no problem seeing that Jesus was this all-powerful and all-caring one. Of course he did have a rather telling wake-up call!  His ministry thus, was all about helping converts to see that Jesus was the one who turned everything upside down—making all creation new—proving once and for all how much we are loved by God.

The mere sending of Jesus to be one of us, to show us, by example, how to live our lives, how in fact, to love—to die and one day rise is testament of the unselfishness of God for each one of us—an unselfishness that gives us the power to live unselfish lives too.  Jesus brought about a new creation—he said that the old ways have passed away—you need not fear—I am making all things new—I will help you to see more than you have seen before—understand more clearly—welcome all my people more graciously—cease judging, and be people of understanding.

Friends, we must remember who Jesus truly was on this earth and strive to follow his lead. I recently read an article from America magazine from the fall of 2014 that was looking at the similarities between the work and writings of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel and Pope Francis. The article was entitled, “Interfaith Affinity” and makes the case for the shared vision of these two church leaders. Rabbi Heschel died in 1972, but his wisdom lives on and there is evidence that Pope Francis read and studied his wisdom over the years as he now is challenging much of what our Church has stood upon for the past 50 years as it has slowly moved away from the teachings of Vatican II.

Within this article, Rabbi Heschel’s words are a great challenge to all of us, no matter our religious background.

He taught that God may be present in and through diverse religions, yet these same religions often fail to manifest God. In his, God in Search of Man, he states:

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.

Heschel’s words above were spoken over 40 years ago, but ring just as true today.  Our faith and our beliefs must ever grow to fit the times. We have to try and walk in another’s shoes for a day to know the pain and misunderstanding that they perhaps walk with each and every day of their lives. This may not be about the law, but it certainly is about love.

I said in the beginning that sometimes how we respond to a situation is more important than what happened. If we despair—we get caught up in a futile denial of life and our human life is the only vehicle we have to the transcendent life and our completion in God who has been calling us and walking with us all the days of our lives. As followers of Jesus, we must always try to see the bigger picture—the good in another, the purpose of a life circumstance—we must always keep faith—continue to hope and with that stance, it is easier to peer through our troubles for the goodness of God. That must always be our prayer for ourselves and each other.

When we do have faith, and act upon it, Jesus will assuredly appear as he did for the apostles. He will be our constant hope and guide in all that we don’t understand, giving his Spirit that we might better see and comprehend one day all that is cloudy now. Let us pray with and for each other friends for this comprehension.  And may we always praise our God who has called us to so much!

Friends, we are back to Ordinary Time again, but as I always tell you, this simply means, no special season of weeks such as Advent, preparing for Jesus to come at Christmas or the whole Lenten-Easter cycle remembering Jesus’ sufferings and total gift of himself, in love for us, followed by the Resurrection signaling our rising one day too.  Even so, this so-called “ordinary time” is filled with very challenging moments, calling us to greatness, through basic goodness as we strive to follow our brother Jesus.

Today, we are called to reflect on the miraculous growth that happens in small ways—like that of a mustard seed—one so very small that has such great potential in becoming one of the largest shrubs.    Ezekiel, in our first reading today lays out the power of God in our midst, highlighting the grandeur in all created life, stressing the fact that nothing is impossible for God.

This reminds me of my flower gardens this year as it seems that all the elements of nature have come together just right—enough sun, enough rain—perhaps this year, I mulched just right—whatever the combination, the plants seem healthier, more vibrant, more beautiful! Sometimes we take the beauty of all created life for granted—I know I do, and every once in a while, something catches my attention and I remember again, to slow down and take notice of the beauty all around.  One of the blessings of taking a vacation is to allow ourselves that slowing down, that ability to discover a new, in a different place, the beautiful world our God has gifted us with. Retirement for me this year has helped me do that.

A little back-story today to help us truly understand the readings:  The prophet Ezekiel is writing to a people humbled, demoralized really, from defeat in battle, from years in exile—he is trying to instill hope that again, nothing is impossible for God—their God is with them, something they must believe and hold on to.

God’s message through Ezekiel is about nature with the connection intended to speak to their lives.  God says, “I will stunt tall trees and make low trees grow tall—those that are now green, will grow dry—those dry will grow green. Apparently, there will be justice one day. Hearing these words encourages me because sometimes I wonder why we can’t somehow learn as countries, as people,  to live peacefully with each other—I wonder too, if we even try. It seems we must all strive for a change of heart—to thinking that looks beyond our own needs, desires—as nations, as people to what is best for the greatest majority of people inhabiting this planet.

I received yet again another message this week to ask our congress people to pursue gun legislation that keeps us safe. I, along with you and many others across our nation have asked repeatedly for this, yet, big money and an inability in our legislative bodies to get any meaningful work done because they can’t agree and won’t work together continues to plague our nation. I find myself thinking—enough already—get on with it! I would like to challenge each of you, if you haven’t already to contact your congress people and ask them to compromise and get our nation’s work done.

Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians reminds us that, “We walk by faith, not by sight.” Sometimes we may wonder when the good will flourish—when wars will cease—when the reign of God, hinted at in Paul’s reading and taken on fully in the gospel today from Mark, will actually happen. It seems that it will take the eyes and ears of faith to see and hear, to fully recognize the reign of God in our midst. And perhaps, it will take the responsible nature within each of us, doing our part toward making our world a place we truly want to live in and be a part of.

As an aside today, I think we see the beginnings of good, ole Christian/Catholic guilt coming from Paul as he warns that we will “get what we deserve” for the way we have basically lived our lives. I think these early followers must have been going astray for Paul to write this—and it seems to me that we need not worry so much about final judgment if we concentrate on walking in the footsteps of Jesus—living the law of love—asking often and really in every situation—“What would Jesus do here—would he take the easy way out—stand mute before discriminating actions, words of injustice toward one group of people over another or would we stand up and at least ask a question to slow a process down—what is it that we are truly saying by this action?

I read somewhere recently that when we see evil in our world and do nothing, we are guilty—it would seem that the least we can do is make our voices heard! Back in the 60’s, John Howard Griffin became famous for his book, Black Like Me, wherein he performed an experiment, darkening his skin so as to experience what our black brothers and sisters have experienced in our country for far too long. He made the statement, “The greatest way for evil to triumph is that good [people] remain silent.”

Ezekiel’s reading mentions the cedar—how it starts out as a tender shoot and is planted on the high mountain where really, the conditions are quite harsh.  It seems, in many ways, it prospers under these conditions.  Many times that is true for us as well. Harsh conditions that we may be called on in our lives to bear; illness, death of a loved one, loss of job and home, neglect, insensitivity from others, can many times open up our hearts to be more aware of,  and sensitive to, the needs of others—out of pain—growth and strength. It is not in proclaiming our own greatness that we become great—greatness lies in what we do—who we become for others and for our world.

The readings today, especially the gospel, speak of the reign of God.  All the earth belongs to God and God wants each of us—all of us to know that we are loved and that God longs for the day when we will realize that. Then perhaps, we can truly say, the reign of God is here—now!  It does take eyes, ears and a heart of faith. If we but look around at the beauty of nature—we may begin to understand that God made this beautiful earth for us to enjoy—to share.

We must walk by faith, not by sight!

There is a definite difference between plant growth and the reign of God as we are directed to consider in this week’s readings—but all of God’s creation is sign and symbol of how much our God loves us and we must strive to care and love this earth given us by God.  We had the good fortune this past week to view a public television show on the Apollo Program and the race in the 1960’s to be the first to get to the moon.

Within that program which concentrated on the mission of Apollo 8 which basically orbited the moon ten times—no small feat—first humans to do that, history, through these three astronauts, recorded the now famous “Earthrise” picture from space. This happened on Christmas Day, 1969 and these astronauts reflected on the fragility of our beautiful planet hanging out there in the blackness of space.  And amid the beauty, came the realization of all the strife upon our planet at that time, the escalating Viet Nam War and the unrest among our black sisters and brothers.  Yet, today still, I have hope as I look at all of you and your willingness to keep choosing life and openness within this community of believers, that good will rise and overcome all that is unfinished even in our day.

Our eyes of faith allow us to witness what our human sight can’t always make out.  We will see God’s reign coming to fruition in the small events of each day:  In our homes in the patience of others when frustrating events take place, in the kindness of a neighbor bringing some food when someone has died, in the loving touch of a caretaker, in the willingness of women and men who put themselves in danger for the good of us all, in the honesty of a neighbor over a business enterprise—so many everyday events that sometimes demand the eyes of faith to realize that, “yes” the reign of God is coming, little by little, each day.

The reign of God friends, is like the tiny mustard seed in our gospel today—so insignificant seemingly, yet with so much potential. The reign of God will not happen though simply by us hoping for it—it will take all of our best efforts—we don’t have to wait for some cataclysmic final event—the reign of God is here now, in our midst—the potential is within each one of us.

 

 

This past week, our family gathered on the Redig Family Farm for our annual clean-up day. This is a day we set aside each year in spring to clean the family farm inside and out—washing windows, cleaning out cupboards, dusting hidden corners, weeding flower beds, trimming trees, picking up debris on woods’ trails and hauling it all away. You get the idea. And amid all this sprucing up there is lots of conversation and catching up on each other’s lives.  Of course there is the potluck meal at noon that sustains us throughout all the house and yard work. And what gathering in Winona would be complete without a sampling of Bloedows’ donuts mid-morning? A nephew so indulged us. The day ended with a cook-out of hotdogs and marshmallows plus the added joy of blessing the marriage of a niece and her husband by the family gathered.

As I reflected on the meaning of Corpus Christi,  which means, as you know, the Body of Christ, it struck me that our gathering was a wonderful sign and symbol for what this feast should call up in each of us. Jesus our brother came among us to show us how much we are each loved by God. He totally immersed himself in created life; the goodness of relationships, the ups and downs of all that life brings.  He lived and died in an all-encompassing way to show us the way to do the same.  His passage into resurrected life gave us the promise and hope of the same.

Because he wanted to remain close to all of created life even when he could no longer remain here physically; he gave us a most wonderful gift, that of the Eucharist. With his words, “This is my body, this is my blood,” whenever we gather to remember and share this sacred meal, he is with us in a special way—we don’t know how exactly, but in the words of the hymn, we remember, we celebrate, we believe!

And as wonderful as this gift is to behold and partake in; we must see it as only the beginning, the starting place in our lives as Christians, as followers of our brother Jesus.  We would do better, and I must give my husband Robert credit for this, to see the Eucharist as a verb as opposed to a noun, for you see, Jesus never intended it to be a static encounter between God and us as individuals, but the impetus for us moving out into our world and again through the words of a hymn, become “bread” for that same world.

In the past; I believe all of us got stuck in the piety of reverencing the body and blood on the altar, taking it no further, letting it be a noun, instead of a verb—an action word. Because we didn’t make the connection, we forgot about Jesus’ body and blood in the world, in all the faces, in all the lives of those that we meet each day. The reception of the Eucharist, it seems to me, was always and is today, just the starting place for us—the challenge for us is to then become the bread—the body of Jesus in our world—that is where the transubstantiation really needs to take place!

Just like my opening example of family gathered, there was at the end of the day of being together, working, sharing a meal and conversing, the hope and promise of more in the future.  Each time we gather here, likewise, to pray, to share, to eat this sacred meal; we are simply starting, and must move out then into our individual lives, choosing to be present to the body of Christ that we meet each day in our homes, at work, at the grocery store—wherever our lives take us.

Our Christian lives friends are a challenge—we are meant to be active as a result of our baptisms. In that light, another opportunity has availed itself this week in the request from the Dan Corcoran House for volunteers to do 4-hour shifts “on the house.”  This is an opportunity which may work for some of you and if interested, I can get the information to you as to how to be involved. There are countless ways for us to be bread for our world, and, through our parish, many of you are already involved very generously and for that, I am most grateful.  You are an encouragement to me and models for my actions.

Our commitment to our God must always carry us out of ourselves as St. Edith Stein, Jewish nun and convert from Judaism, living under Nazi occupation said, “Dedication to God means dedication to the whole of creation.”  The Eucharist friends, is not a static noun, but a challenging, active verb and Jesus’ words, “This is my body, this is my blood” sends us forth into our world.  Hopefully, we can respond, “Amen!”

Today, my friends, we are asked to ponder a great mystery—who is God for us?  The easy formula that we have always used in the past and into the present says well what we believe—that of the sign of the cross—where we say that we believe in Abba God, the Creator, in the name of the First-Born, or Son—Jesus, our Brother, and in the name of the Spirit, Sophia, in the Old or First Testament—the feminine face of God—three persons—All, one God.  It is a mystery that we can only take on faith as it is beyond our scope to truly understand.   I think what is easier for most of us to grasp, and where our energies should lie, is in the relational understanding of who God is for us, and of how God wants to be part of our lives.

The first reading from Deuteronomy finds Moses marveling to the people, now freed from Egypt, of how their God had worked so wonderfully in their lives and of the signs God had shown to bring them out of bondage.  “Know this today, therefore, and take it into your hearts: Your God is God indeed, in heaven above and on earth below and there is no other.” And more than even the feats of strength, the power shown in the wonders of nature, was the fact that God had chosen them from all the nations, in their belief, a small, rather insignificant people to raise up and make them God’s own.   We think of Psalm 8, used to preface the Gospel today: “When I behold your heavens, the work of your hands …who are we that you should be mindful of us?” How had they been so fortunate? Had they in fact done anything to deserve this kind of care?  The answer of course for them and us was and is, often times, “No.” We too can share stories of how God was with us mightily in times of trouble and we certainly can echo St. Paul’s words—“I know the right thing to do, but I often choose otherwise.

But getting back to the fact of this insignificant people being chosen—we see as we follow the readings for today through to understand who our God is, that the choosing of us–of all people, does go on to the present—to each one of us–to our children and our children’s children. A literal read of this passage from Deuteronomy would tell us that our God is exclusive, choosing one group of people over another to the detriment of those not chosen, but we know in Jesus, that is not so—Jesus was about calling and choosing all of us.

So friends, we see in reading much of the First Testament texts that we need to look for the fulfillment of them in the Second—in the message of Jesus. In Jesus, we see that all, in effect, are chosen, are cherished, are loved and are wanted.  One of Jesus’  last commands to his flock was that they would make disciples of all the nations—baptizing them in the name of the Three Persons, the Creator, the Savior and the Spirit—all comprising one God.  And when we struggle to follow Jesus, we remember his most comforting line before physically departing the earth—“Know my friends that I am with you always, even until the end of the world.”

Now, I don’t know about you, but I can do much in this world with that knowledge—that I am doing it with Jesus at my side.  I can put up with the struggles, the misunderstandings at times to keep moving forward, to keep answering the call to love wherever and with whomever–as long as I know that God is with me! That gives me great hope!

Looking at the second reading from Paul to the Romans, we get a sense of how intimately we are connected to this Triune God.  We are not subjects, nor slaves, we are children of God, heirs with Jesus, the Christ—the First-Born of God.  And because we are heirs—Jesus is our Brother and Friend, not a Lord over us.  You will remember that Jesus called the disciples his friends in his priestly prayer before he died.  And again, that is why I always call you friends when I address you—I see myself as your equal—not as one above you, as seems to be have been the trend in recent years in the patriarchal church, bent on returning to pre-Vatican II times. But now, with Francis; we are seeing a turn once again, forward a bit, to a Church on more equal footing.  I say, “a bit” because Francis hasn’t yet been enlightened on women.

God, the Creator, is our loving parent, the term—“Abba,” means that.  The Spirit is the spirit of Jesus. I once learned as a child that the love of God the Creator for the First-Born, Jesus, was so great that it caused a third entity—and that is the Spirit.  That always made sense to me.  Most of us can wrap our minds and hearts around that—which is the model for procreation—the love between two is so great that a third entity is born. This is in the very best sense of course, because we know that procreation happens that does not include true love and self-giving but only passion and power-over. Both love and passion are necessary to give birth to more love in our world—a love that will nurture created life, in the model of our loving God for each of us.

This aspect, that love and passion are necessary “to give birth to more love in our world” has been very much part of the defense, if you will, for sanctioning the love relationships of gay and lesbian couples.  “Love is love is love,” as my friend and songwriter, Paul Alexander has so aptly said. Wherever there is love, there is God, our brother Jesus has said, so why would we not want to uplift that?  The Church hierarchy’s defense against love that seems to not follow the rules has been that such actions will be “confusing” to the people.  I believe the only confusing actions are in fact when we do anything that is against love—using love as a measure always trumps the law.

On this Trinity Sunday, a word about terminology for God—this is something I have shared with you before, but it bears repeating.  We know from Scriptures that the Spirit is continually renewing the face of the earth and so our understanding of God must grow too.  If you listen carefully to me, you will realize that I seldom address God as Father, Son and a Spirit that is male, exclusively.  I do this primarily because God is bigger and more than, as theologian, Sandra Schneiders, says, “Two men and a bird.”  I do it as well to help women, myself included, and men, realize that female flesh does image our God too.   If God is bigger than two men and a bird—if God is mother, father, sister, brother, friend—women and men will begin to see God in the feminine face and not primarily in the masculine face alone.  If women are given the privilege along with their brothers to serve at the altars of our churches—women will begin to recognize God in their experiences as men do in theirs. And friends, this is our goal—to see God through our lives, on this earth, because after all, our eternity will be with God; best to get acquainted now with who God really is!

Speaking of ordination for women, I recall the words of a priest friend back some 15 years ago who when we were discussing this possibility and he very matter-a-factly said to me, “Well Kathy, no one has a right to ordination.” I looked at my friend and said as lovingly as I could, “Well you have much more of a right than me simply by the nature of how you happened to have been born!”  Something doesn’t ring true about a mindset of exclusivity when we are considering a God in Jesus who came to let us know of his Abba’s over-the-top love for each of us.

This reminds me of the present-day prophet, Joan Chittister who is fond of saying and I paraphrase:  Our God who is all powerful, all wonderful, has all strength and wisdom, can move mountains, is simply undone when it comes to women!  Friends, the inability to see the image of Jesus in women is a mindset, pure and simple and is not of love, and certainly is not of God.

In respect for our history and where we have come from, it is good to remember, if we could ever forget, that we grew out of a patriarchal society where some gods were seen as “fathers” because these ancient people considered human fathers to be the source of life, loving protectors and attentive guides.  In these patriarchal societies only a male child could be an heir.

This would explain the importance given through time to sons.  Now, let us underscore—“ancient” times in this consideration.  We now live in modern times and to hold onto a theology where God’s face is only revealed in male form and experience is to denigrate half of God’s human creation.  It is holding onto these ancient ideas that justifies to this day, women being paid less than men in many professions for comparable work.  The fact that men are considered better than women and of more importance justifies then, using and abusing them in society and in our homes.

Even the example of my priest friend who over the years was always very supportive of me as a woman in chaplaincy, stopped short of being able to see me as a priest.  He and others, trained so well, could not imagine women totally imaging Jesus our brother at the altar.

A Church that does not look equally on all of its congregants and see what our loving God sees in each one, what Jesus saw, is at least, not worthy of the term “human” and at most, should not be touting the label of “Christian.” Our Churches that operate out of a patriarchal mindset where men are seen as better than women do in effect encourage abuse of women in our society. This too my friends is why I lay such importance on the language that we use for people and for God—those with the language are those with the power.  Our Churches should be modeling for society the good, the best we can be as persons, not the status quo or what is most convenient.

Within our Christian churches we should be able to see the face of Jesus, who continually saves—recognize the work of on-going creation and the renewal of the Spirit that is ever calling us to be more—to move ever closer to God as we move ever closer in relationship, understanding and appreciation of each and every person.   The Triune God, my friends is a mystery—a wonder and a reality.  Let us pray today to be ever more cognizant of how our God has loved us from creation onward until now and wants and expects us to love our world and its people in the same way.