Homily – 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

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 1st 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!

Homily -21st Sunday in Ordinary Time

A very compelling homily from Pastor Dick Dahl who stood in for me this past Sunday. Thanks Dick!

Less than a month ago, on July 26, two 19-year-olds burst into a small setting like this, in which an elderly priest, Father Jacques Hamel,  was celebrating Mass with a small group of worshipers. They forced the priest to his knees and slit his throat. They didn’t do this for money. Nor was it in a drunken spree.  They committed this murder to give glory to God.

Of course Father Hamel was only one of many such victims, 84 of whom had been run over and killed by a truck just 12 days earlier further south in Nice, France.

Muslim leaders declared the murders of Father Hamel and those elsewhere as “a pure betrayal of our (Muslim) religion” and that “These heinous crimes violate the tolerant teachings of Islam.”

Yet, Gary Gutting, a professor from Notre Dame University, pointed out in a New York Times opinion piece earlier this month, that there is a danger implicit in any religion that claims to be God’s own truth. He wrote the following:

Both Islam and Christianity claim to be revealed religions, holding that their teachings are truths that God himself has conveyed to us and wants everyone to accept. They were, from the start, missionary religions. A religion charged with bringing God’s truth to the world faces the question of how to deal with people who refuse to accept it. To what extent should it tolerate religious error? At certain points in their histories, both Christianity and Islam have been intolerant of other religions, often of each other, even to the point of extreme violence.

Prof. Gutting went on, “This was not inevitable, but neither was it an accident. The potential for intolerance lies in the logic of religions like Christianity and Islam that say their teachings derive from a divine revelation. For them, the truth that God has revealed is the most important truth there is; therefore, denying or doubting this truth is extremely dangerous, both for nonbelievers, who lack this essential truth, and for believers, who may well be misled by the denials and doubts of nonbelievers. Given these assumptions, it’s easy to conclude that even extreme steps are warranted to eliminate nonbelief.

Today, however, we object that moral considerations should limit one’s opposition to nonbelief. We believe that people have a human right to follow their conscience and worship as they think they should or even not at all.

Here we reach a crux for those who adhere to a revealed religion. They can either accept ordinary human standards of morality as a limit on how they interpret divine teachings, or they can insist on total fidelity to what they see as God’s revelation. They can insist that divine truth utterly exceeds human understanding, which is in no position to judge it. God reveals things to us precisely because they are truths we would never arrive at by our natural lights. When the omniscient God has spoken, we can only obey.

Consequently, religions can be divisive or unifying forces. When they become primarily ideologies, belief systems by which we see ourselves as “right” and others “wrong,” we are inclined to define our identify through people seen as our enemies. For example, Catholics and non-Cath0lics, believers and non-believers, us and them.

Even in our national politics, some believe we should see those who don’t think, look and believe like us as dangerous and that they should be excluded. Others argue that we are stronger together and that our differences enrich us.

Today’s readings, however,  proclaim an astounding vision — not of exclusion but of inclusion: Isaiah prophesied, “I am coming to gather every nation and every language.” Psalm 117 , rejoices, “Praise Yahweh, all nations; extol him all peoples.” Why? Because “his faithful love is strong and his constancy never-ending.”

The reading from Luke’s Gospel goes further, “People from East and West, from North and South will come and sit down at the feast in the Kingdom of God.” This gives a new meaning to the concept of “globalization.” The blasphemy is to put imaginary limits on God’s astounding, all-inclusive and all-embracing love. In doing so one reduces the eternal, the infinite, the unnameable to a mental idol.

If we follow Jesus as our guide, we open ourselves to the Source of  all life in the image of a parent. We see ourselves as part of a universe enveloped in personal Presence, Mystery and Energy beyond our comprehension, inclusive of all. We rely on this parental-like God in the words of today’s Psalm  precisely because, “his faithful love is strong and his constancy never-ending.” Instead of a rigid man-made ideology subject to blind distortion, love is always our guide, the norm by which we know we are guided by the Spirit.

Homily – 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time

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 30th 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!

 

Homily – 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time

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 6th marked the 71st 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 6th 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!”

Homily – 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Friends, today we hear about futility—the older translation of which we are probably more familiar speaks of “vanity” and the “vanity of vanities.”  No matter which word we use, it seems that both point to what is empty and foolish.  The story of the rich, prosperous man in today’s Gospel is a prime example.  His answer to overflowing fields of grain is to build bigger barns, and he expresses quite a bit of excitement around this fact!—perhaps a very human thing to do. There apparently wasn’t any malice involved in the way that he acquired his wealth—at least Jesus doesn’t raise the issue—he is more concerned, it would seem about what the man wants to do with his surplus.  It is for this reason that this parish gifts most of our financial treasure out to our local, national and international community—those who have needs beyond our own.  In fact it is one of the greatest joys of those who serve on our board to take your money out of the bank and pay it forward, as it were, which we did this past week and you have received that report.  It has always been my belief that truly Christian churches should not have bank accounts, or at least not have ones that, like our farmer today, grow ever larger—I thought this long before All Are One came to be.

The Old or First Testament clearly instructs wealthy farmers to leave at least, the corners of their fields, for the poor and widows to glean.  It seems there is necessity to write into law, care for those less fortunate, as we in our natural tendency toward greed and hoarding, forget at times, to care for the less fortunate.  The Scripture lessons today tell us that the meaning of life can’t be found in things that do not last, yet we humans still strive for more, many times oblivious to what our ever-growing desire for things might be doing to our earth.

This past winter, Robert and I began the process of going through our “stuff” stored around our home, throwing lots and sharing that which others could use that we no longer needed—it was really very freeing! And, to say nothing of how happy our kids will be one day that they don’t have to do it! I know in talking with many of you who have begun simplifying your lives and getting rid of some of the extra stuff as we have, that you know that sense of freedom and the joy of sharing the extras with others.

In our world, the value of people is often, sadly, linked to what they have, especially money and material goods. And right alongside this are the issues of power and prestige that are linked to those who are well-off financially. The standards in society that govern how we live, what is acceptable, are often set by those with money.  At least these are the people who are listened to.  The wise teacher, Qoheleth in Ecclesiastes, says all of this is lacking in substance.   The election this fall is very much about making sure that those without are taken care of.

Within our Catholic church we see that the power is definitely in the hands of half of the human race. And the trouble seems to be that those who hold this power, those who have the voice and are allowed to minister at our altars, have no idea, no concept of what it would be like to have the tables turned.

Eight years ago when I was ordained, a female, ELCA Lutheran pastor and colleague wrote to me expressing her praise and wonder at what women in the Catholic church have to go through to realize their God-given calls to serve at the altar.  She went onto relate her own personal experience of hearing God’s call, entering seminary and at the conclusion of her studies, becoming ordained.

Years ago when the first woman was ordained within the Church of England, I can remember reading the transcript of her homily and she said something to the effect that for the first time, little girls in the Church could look on and say, like little boys have done for centuries, I too could be ordained one day! Politics aside, we heard the same thing this last week from our First Lady, Michelle Obama when she said and I paraphrase, now my girls know that they too one day could be president!

Women within the Catholic church are hoping that Francis will one day, soon, see how poor our world is when the gifts of women are discounted.  It is simply not enough to say that we should “give the women more to do!” What our Church needs is the gifts of women, fully realized, in every Catholic church in our country and in our world and until that happens; we will not be whole—the Catholic church will fail to be all that it can be—all that Jesus intended it to be.  The Democratic nominee for vice-president, himself a Catholic, has said as much—the Catholic church basically stands in the way of women’s rights being fully realized in our world! Had this been the case, that of complete involvement of women in Church ministry and leadership, it may not have been so easy for male priests to abuse the children of the People of God and cover it up for so long!

The readings this week definitely call us to look at what occupies our minds and hearts and takes aim at excessive wealth and power and calls it, “futile.”   If we look at those who have the wealth in this world; we often see them as people striving for even more—they are never satisfied.  The constant striving for things tends to blur the path to wholeness. We are reminded of this truth in music scores over the years that decry a simpler time when love was good and it wasn’t about the wealth.

Jesus points to the foolishness of stockpiling that which we can’t take with us. In the end, we leave this world with only what we brought in—ourselves. We smile at the farmer, building bigger barns to store his grain—but our world still hasn’t learned this lesson that Jesus taught us so long ago—people continue to build bigger houses that are like barns to fill with stuff and often with only two people wandering about in them.

Our “first world” world has a long ways to go yet in understanding that the material gifts of our planet were meant to share with the world.  In our dealings as a nation with other world governments, we need to keep the good of all people in mind, not just ourselves.  In my position, it isn’t appropriate that I advocate for one candidate over another, one political party over another, but I can advocate, as one former candidate running for office did recently, “Vote your consciences!”  Who will do the best job to care for all of the people not only in our country, but around the world? Who has the broadest vision of what it takes to deal with world problems of justice and security for all? Who has the ability to listen to others and come up with sound solutions to big problems?

When we look at the human tendency to want for more, to sometimes, be selfish even, we might ask what all the striving and hoarding is about. It does seem that fear is probably the driving force in all that we strive after and we are all guilty of this pursuit in some form or fashion.  If it is about fear, then we have to ask—what do we fear?  I think we fear not being accepted, not being loved—we fear for our reputation—what would people think of me if I were to do that, wear that, say that—be with them? So in our fear of being looked down upon, thought less of, we sometimes do the socially more acceptable thing and surround ourselves with stuff that will bring us a certain amount of prestige, acceptance and comfort—for a time.

Again, Qoheleth tells us—it is all fleeting—here today, gone tomorrow.  As we age, I think this reality becomes ever more apparent.  Stories abound of the bum on the street who was once a top executive—it can all go so quickly, so it behooves us to strive after that which lasts.  For the younger ones among us, you are at a different place, simply trying to take care of the constant needs of your families.

But for all of us, Paul outlines well what our lives should look like due to the fact that we say we follow Jesus, the Christ.  As his followers, as Christians, each us is called to not simply consider ourselves, but others—how does what I do, how I choose to live, affect others—affect global existence for all who share this planet?  Our baptism in Jesus was a death to an old way of thinking—one that considered us above all others.

Through the waters of baptism, we are born into the image of our Creator—called to be generous with our time, talent and possessions in a world that sometimes applauds selfishness and greed. We are called and required to be honest in all our dealings in a world that isn’t always honest.  Our culture idolizes youth, money and pleasure—but we are called to so much more—the practice of genuine love, which shows itself through mercy, goodness, unselfishness and peace.  I recall how I struggled several years back with turning 60. With each passing year, I struggle less as I am coming to terms with growing older, realizing it isn’t about a number, but the quality of my years.

We all know—those of us with gray hair and mid-drift bulges that youth doesn’t last—pleasure-seeking is a beast that can consume us if we let it.  But life that Jesus our brother and friend laid out for us is one that does last—a life that is consumed with love—love for people, love for our earth, love for ourselves—a love that seeks balance in our lives.

For this reason, I can only marvel at those in this world who would think that our good God would be against those who choose to love someone of their same sex in conjunction with how they were created.  Incredible! “Love is love is love…” as my friend, Paul Alexander, musician and song-writer has said so simply and well. Our loving Creator God wants us to enjoy our human existence—taste of the joys of this earth and of each other—but not make the pleasure, the experience, a god in itself.  This is where we lose our way.

Let us pray for each other today, that we can always keep our eyes on Jesus who so perfectly, showed us the balance—the way—the truth and the life.