Spiritual but not religious...

The Rev. J.W. Messer
September 25, 2011
Year A, Proper 21, RCLExodus 17:1-7 , Psalm 78:1-4, 12-16 , Philippians 2:1-13,

Spiritual But Not Religious… The Parable of the Two Sons
Matthew 21:23-32

          When I was studying in Oxford this summer (I love being able to say that!), a group of us clergy would go out and look for off-the-beaten-tourist-path local pubs for dinner. One night at one of these places, all the tables were filled except one. So we begged the person sitting at the table to let us join him, which he did. Conversation went smoothly until we revealed that most of us were Episcopal clergy.  When we asked him what faith tradition he was, acting shocked he replied, “I’m not religious; I’m British!”

          Unfortunately the equivalent of this statement in the States is “I’m spiritual but not religious.” I can’t tell you how often I hear this statement, particularly in my age group. In fact it now is an acronym:  “SBNR” and even has its own Facebook page. 

I think there are a lot of reasons behind why people today say “I am spiritual but not religious.”  One may be that they don’t want to admit that they do not belong to an organized religion, but want others to still think well of them.  Another may be that they are so involved in soccer/dirt bike riding or whatever makes them happy on the weekends that they don’t feel the need to go to a church.  And others may have been brought up in an organized religion but have fallen away, or they have tried to attend a few churches and when that service doesn’t fit them they give up going to church. 

          Or it could be something darker or sadder that they neither have the time nor inclination to examine or fix.  Perhaps they had a horrible experience that has absolutely turned them away from organized religion.  Or maybe they were literally dragged to church non-stop as children and have totally rebelled.

Whatever their reasons are to make this statement, to live this statement, I believe that underneath, they too are people looking for something bigger than themselves, but they don’t like or feel the need to be a part of organized religion.

Let’s be honest -- organized religion certainly is not without sin.  It is undoubtedly easy to point to the disgraced mega-church pastors who have been brought down over the years by major sex, drug, and molestation scandals.   But it is more than major scandals; it is about power, ego and money getting in the way.  Organized religion can have its downside just as any organization; it’s just when something that is suppose to represent the ultimate good and love on earth betrays that trust, then it takes a long time to get over.

          A lot of the time when people say they don’t like organized religion, they use it as a scapegoat, because they don’t like being told what or how they should act or live their lives. One way to view today’s parable is through this perspective. The parable is of two brothers, and they are told by their father to go out into the vineyard and work. This work that they are asked to do is something that is expected of everyone in the community, and the product they create impacts a larger community. Yet when asked, one son said he would go into the vineyard but didn’t go, while the other said he wouldn’t go but ended up going.

          Applying this to our daily lives, the question has to be asked: Which one would we like to be? The one who will say that I will do what is asked of me, but I won’t go do it. Or the one who doesn’t want to do it but ends up working. We want to be the latter, but at points in our lives, we have been in both positions. We have not followed through on things we said that we would do, and we have been the people to go behind and do the work because it wasn’t getting done.

          Applying this to our spiritual lives, the question has to be asked: Which one are we?   The one who proudly proclaims to be a person of faith and of a certain tradition, but doesn’t follow through and won’t engage in a community? Or the one who doesn’t know who he is or if she is willing to fully sign up as a person of faith, but leads a life that in every way is that of a good and righteous person.

          I think there is even more to this parable beyond these hard questions. The two sons are two different approaches to faith and doing God’s will. The first son answered the way he thought the Father wanted to hear which got the Father off his back so that he could do what he wanted to do. The other son, who first said no, thought about it, realized his mistake, changed his mind, and went out into the field to do the work the Father had asked him to do.  Both sons were capable of the work, but it’s how they approached it.

Jesus first compared the son, who said he would go but didn’t, to the leaders of organized religion of the day who had earlier been on the right track but got distracted by all the frills and ended up being more concerned about appearing like people of faith than actually being people of faith. Jesus then compared the marginalized and rejects from society to the son who went and worked the vineyard after first saying no, because like the son, they had made bad decisions earlier in their lives and yet something happened to them, they repented, and they got back on the right track. 

While most of us here present do not absolutely fall in either one or the other category, the questions still apply to us.  How are we going to live out our lives when the Father asks us to work in the vineyard—when that work is so important with an effect far beyond the vineyard.  Are we going to perhaps not always respond perfectly to the question, but after realizing our mistake, do the work?  Or are we going to say what others expect to hear or the easy way out, when we have absolutely no intention of doing the work? Are we going to live our lives fully committed to God and God’s call for us? Or pretend that we are?  Are we going to toil in the vineyard or walk away from it?

In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. + Amen +

It's not FAIR!

September 18, 2011
The Rev. John A. Baldwin

In listening to the Parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard, I am reminded of an expression I heard more than a few times from my daughters as they were growing up, and which I suspect you have heard from children and grandchildren yourselves - "It's not fair!"

In Jesus' parable, the workers who come early to the Vineyard, though offered a good wage for working, become prey to rising expectations. They begin to salivate, imagining the extra bonus they are going to receive when they see those who came later being paid what the earlier-starting workers were offered. They are brought up short when the owner pays everyone the same wage. "It's not fair! We deserve more than they do."

When our young children are dismayed by what they perceive to be the inequities of life - "It's not fair that Joshua gets to stay up later than me"  ...."It's not fair! Why do I have to eat all my peas in order to get dessert?" - we are likely to say in response, "Sorry love, but life often isn't fair."

And it isn't! Is it fair that you and I are living in one of the most prosperous nation in the world with liberties others long for and envy, while several billion human beings live in poverty in Third World nations, and many suffer from cruelties that are beyond our comprehension? Is it fair, that women generally earn less than men for the same work performed? Is it fair that some people are born into loving, nurturing families, while others are born into abusive, love-starved families? Is it fair that Hurricane Irene inflicted relatively small damage on our area, but pounded the Outer Banks, and flooded Vermont?

One of the early awarenesses of life is that human society is filled with unfairness. And it's a harsh reality to learn, indeed. But it's one thing to acknowledge the unfairness of human beings, and the sinfulness of the structures within which we live, and it's another thing to accuse God of unfairness. But we do!!!

The problem of evil leads us inevitably to such questions as, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" Is it fair that Emily, who is one of the most loving persons I know has terminal cancer? Why was my child born with a birth defect? How come, out of all the houses in my area, it was mine that was destroyed by the tornado? In our anger and anguish we cry out to God. "Why aren't you being fair?"

A theology that is based on the premise that we are more favored or privileged than other people, and that God will protect us from unfairness if we live a faithful life, is a shaky and vulnerable theology. It totally fails us when unfair things happen to us, or to those we love and care about. If we've striven hard to lead decent, moral, faithful lives, then it must be God who failed us. How could God let bad things happen to good people? Why is God being unfair?

As a pastor I hear this theology being expressed over and over again. "I used to go to church until my daughter was drowned in a boating accident. Now I don't believe in a God who could let this happen." A theology that envisions God as responsible for everything that happens, can lead to our blaming God for everything.....from the sinful actions of men and women...to someone being in the wrong place at an unfortunate moment....to human genes combining in the womb in a tragic way. Inevitably this theology will lead to our faith failing us in a crisis. It's a weak theology, and our Gospel this morning underscores this.

In reality, God is radically fair to all alike. He doesn't play favorites. He treats Johnny-Come-Latelys the same way he treats those who sign on early. Every human being has the breath of life breathed into our bodies at birth, and that breath will inevitably be taken back by God from every one of us at death. Although we may accumulate wealth and ample possessions, no one can take it with them beyond the grave. Every man, woman and child, no matter what their race, beliefs, or character flaws and weaknesses, is loved by God. Everyone who sincerely repents of their sins and wrongdoings is forgiven and reconciled to God. These are the actions of a God who is radically fair to all alike.

Where our theology gets us into trouble is when we assume that somehow we should receive special privileges that are denied to others, or when we see God's role in our lives as primarily that of a Guardian Angel protecting us from all unfairness in life, rather than experiencing God as a companion in joy and suffering alike, as well as a tower of strength to draw upon in adversity.

A God who is radically fair is one we can rely on not to abandon us in times of trouble, and who we can trust to support us in our struggles to find new life and meaning on the other side of pain.

Earlier in my ministry I attended a conference in suburban Minneapolis that I will never forget, one that filled me with more than a little apprehension as it approached. It was a dialogue for clergy with men and woman who'd been diagnosed with AIDS. Back in those days (about 20 years ago) this was very close to receiving a death sentence. The conference planners hoped to enable clergy to grow in understanding and in compassionate ministry to those suffering with AIDS.

During the conference, I spent a half hour apiece hearing the stories of 2 young men as they described the effect learning they had AIDS had upon them, and how they were coping with their disease. Although both had lived lifestyles that were very different from my own, I felt great warmth and compassion for both of them in their illness.

Both described their shock and fear, the trauma of sharing with their friends and families, and the sadness of being treated like lepers. There was a very real sense of unfairness - being stricken with a fearsome disease in the prime of their lives.

"It was a terrible moment when I learned I had AIDS" one told me, "But strangely, it was also a blessing in disguise." He went on to tell me about some of the hurts and pains of his life. He described his inner life as containing a garage filled with rats. When something hurtful or painful happened to him, he pushed it into the garage and slammed the door, locking it with alcohol and denial.

But when he learned he had AIDS, something changed inside. He began to unlock the door of the garage, and let out the anger and hurt. He read me a poem he had written and sent to the Catholic Archbishop in St. Paul, Minnesota describing the anger and confusion he felt at a Church which had nurtured him as a child, but which had later turned its back on him and rejected him as a gay man.

Writing and sending the letter lifted a weight off his heart. Even though he never received a response, he felt his stored up anger towards the Catholic Church melting a bit. He began chasing out the other rats in his inner garage, and finding new hope in life, even while living with a disease which could end his life suddenly. He told me he had become very active in support groups for those with AIDS, not only drawing strength and courage from them, but also supporting and ministering to others.

"I know the rest of my life may be very short", he said, "But then, so could yours, or that of anyone. Having AIDS has changed my life, so maybe it is a blessing in disguise."

Although for many of those living with AIDS, diagnosis has not necessarily led to a deepening of faith, in this man's life it apparently has. Moving past this sense of unfairness, he discovered a God who was closer than ever in his illness.

Is it fair that AIDS struck down many young people in this country in the 1980's and 90's, as well as being rampant in Africa today? Is it fair that those inflicted by this disease were treated like lepers and outcasts in our society, and some even by their own families?

As Christians, an essential part of our vocation and ministry is to do battle with the unfairness of life, through our witness to a God who is radically fair in his love and compassion for all people. We need to move beyond the theology we may have been taught as children which portrays God as a Guardian Angel, who surrounds us with a wall of protection from the unfairness of life....and we need to move towards a theology that is realistic about suffering and sin, but which experiences God as very real and present in our lives as a companion, guide and friend. Amen.

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Lectionary:  Year A Proper 20 RCL: Exodus 16:2-15 , Psalm 105:1-6, 37-45, Philippians 1:21-30 ,Matthew 20:1-16

Forgiveness

Proper 19

September 11, 2011

The Rev. Marguerite Alley

Today, we are remembering the events of September 11, 2001.  The emotions of that day are deeply ingrained in most of us. The repercussions…far beyond the lives lost, are still felt in our daily lives. Fear, mistrust, suspicion, and anger are all such a part of the tragedy of 9-11.

There have been times in my ministry when I have been asked to help people face senseless tragedy. I have been with parents when they have lost their children, husbands and wives who have lost their partner, even children who have lost their parents. In each and every case I have been asked why. Why did this happen? Why did this happen to me? Why did God do this to my loved one? I am always at a loss for words in these cases. But I don’t think anyone would really appreciate it if I just said “Beats me”! and walked away. We lost a student at First Colonial a week or so ago in a senseless accident. The young man went for a run while on vacation with his family. A great student, a star athlete, a great person, a senior making his college plans. While on his run he lost his balance and fell into a deep ravine and died. I don’t have an answer for his parents either. But what I do know is that the only way to live through something like that or something like what happened on 9-11, the only way to make sense of and begin to understand is to seek understanding. I believe that this search for understanding will require incredible strength. And to find this kind of strength we must dig down deep.

To begin with, we must understand that the problem of tragedy, injustice and suffering is a problem for every human being regardless of whether or not you are a person of faith or not.  When we are young and developing our faith, we have a tendency to believe that when something bad happens God caused it, and we question how a great and loving God could cause this to happen.  But as we grow, we begin to understand that NOT believing in God is not going to make dealing with tragedy any easier, so we must re-think our understanding.

Now every faith has ways to understand and deal with suffering in the world. But as a Christian I know my own faith’s resources the best. When people ask the big question, “Why would God allow this or that to happen?” there are almost always two answers. One response is: Don’t question God! God is all -powerful and all- knowing and it’s not your place to question God! Just accept everything. Don’t question. The other response is: I can’t possibly know what God is thinking because God is God and I am not. Well, neither of these is very satisfactory to me. One is too hard to do…and the other is too weak. 

I would suggest to you that forgiveness is the only lens through which we can understand God’s place and role in the tragedies we face.

It seems somewhat providential that the 10^th anniversary of September 11, 2001 would fall on the Sunday in our lectionary where we read Jesus’ mandate about forgiveness. Even people of great faith struggle mightily with this mandate.

One of the great themes of the Hebrew Scriptures is that God identifies with the suffering. Yet we are asked to forgive those who injure us. There are all these great texts that say things like this: If you cast out the poor, you cast me out . I am a husband to the widow. I am father to the orphans. But Christianity says God goes even beyond that. Christians believe that in Jesus, God became human and thus vulnerable to and involved in - suffering and death! He didn’t come as a king or a president. He came as an ordinary day laborer. His vulnerability, his openness, his willingness to take on our pain flies in the face of what we want to believe about our God. We feel like we want a hero, a superman, one who will rush in to right the wrongs, to punish the evil -doers.  And yet, in the aftermath of 9/11 we wonder why that didn’t happen. Do we feel any safer now that Osama bin Laden is dead? Certainly enough “good” Christians are praying for peace and security.  Clearly, at least in my mind, divine retribution has not occurred. But, maybe something better has. Have you considered, that if God was willing to come to us in human form, to suffer the physical pain of alienation, crucifixion and death, that this does answer our question? A God who is willing to do this is a God who loves us beyond measure. A God who avoids coming to us, a God who blocks or avenges our pain, can’t truly love us, because that God doesn’t really know us.

In our Gospel this morning, Peter questions Jesus’ mandate. How many times do I have to forgive someone? Maybe the real question he is asking, is how many times will YOU God, forgive me?

Now we have all known someone who plucked our last nerve, tested our friendship, pushed us to our very limit of forgiveness. And according to Jesus, 70X7..that is to say limitless forgiveness, is what is expected of us as his followers. That can get to be pretty irritating!  We tend to want our relationships to be a bit more equal. We want to get at least as much as we give. Forgiving over and over again and getting little in return is just not in our nature. We have a tendency to keep score cards on people. I mean I try not to…but sometimes I just can’t help it. When someone burns me, I am very reluctant to give them another chance.

Here is where we must work hard at our 70X7 forgiveness. The frustrating thing about forgiveness is that when you do muster the courage to forgive someone sometimes the other person doesn’t change at all and in fact doesn’t even seem grateful!. If we were expecting some kind of return, was it really forgiveness?  I don’t think so. Forgiving means we believe that the life of the family of God is THE most important thing. Anyone who wants to be a Christian is called to forgive with no limits, to love unconditionally. At least this is what we strive for.

Forgiving someone guilty of a heinous offense does not mean we are saying the act was /is acceptable. It means that WE are not going to allow ourselves to be filled with hate and anger. It means we are willing to recognize that the perpetrator is a human being and that they are more than that one act they committed. And that is darn hard to do!

If you have ever been forgiven and taken the time to think about it then you will understand this.  We cannot control forgiveness. We cannot make someone forgive us and we cannot force someone to change when we forgive them.  If you have ever been forgiven then you understand…it comes from beyond us. We have nothing to do with it. All we can do is ask for it……..or offer it. It is quite simply  grace….freely given.  We cannot force another to accept it. We cannot turn it away. It is what it is.

It is quite tempting to look at this parable and to say that the real message is: Forgive those who injure you, or God won’t forgive you. But wouldn’t that be living out of fear rather than out of love?  It sure doesn’t feel much like grace. Perhaps we need to just change a few words and rather than “forgive so that you will be forgiven” we need to “forgive because we are forgiven”.

As I was preparing to write my sermon, I came across a quote that really sums up my thoughts. It is from Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov:

 “I believe like a child that suffering will be healed and made up for, that all the humiliating absurdity of human contradictions will vanish like a pitiful mirage, that in the world’s finale, at the moment of eternal harmony, something so precious will come to pass that it will suffice for all hearts, for the comforting of all resentments, for the atonement of all the crimes of humanity, for all the blood that they’ve shed; and it will make it not only possible to forgive but to justify what has happened.”

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Lectionary for Year A RCL, Proper 19: Exodus 14:19-31, Psalm 114 , Romans 14:1-12, Matthew 18:21-35

Addressing Interpersonal Conflict

The Rev. Julia W. Messer
September 4, 2011
Proper 18, Year A, RCL
Proper 18 Exodus 12:1-14, Psalm 149, Romans 13:8-14
Matthew 18:15-20

Addressing Interpersonal Conflict

I have to confess….I am not really a fan of reality TV shows.  And I particularly dislike those where the shows which seem to be based on who has been the most “wronged” by seeing who can scream the loudest, or swear the loudest, or throw the most things at each other.  And yet when I read today’s Gospel, it was not hard to have images of these shows come to mind. It seems these shows and our society has forgotten the beginning part of this Gospel reading; how to handle conflict as Christians.

Most people do not like nor do they seek out conflict, except perhaps TV show producers looking for higher ratings. Yet we all have and will face conflict in our lives.  I am not talking about life threatening or dire conflicts; I am talking about the every day ordinary conflict we face in our every day ordinary lives, I’m referring to the conflict of interpersonal relationships--The kind, which if left unaddressed, will eat at us.  Like the rude neighbor, the co-worker who takes credit for what you have done, or even the friend or loved one who has hurt you. We’ve all been there and will all be there again. 

If there is one thing we could learn from those annoying reality scream shows is that most interpersonal conflicts that we face with a regular occurrence usually  boils down to a few major reasons. Someone got their feelings hurt by being snubbed, insulted, put down, or lied to. And the way most people deal with conflict is to talk behind the other person’s back, yell at or attack them which of course makes the person being yelled at shut down and not listen, or the pain builds and builds until one day anger erupts and the pain is too long standing to be easily repaired.

So what are we to do when we find ourselves in inevitable conflict?  This Gospel passage tells us in very clear steps how to approach that conflict when it arises. We are not to be passive, or run away, nor are we to ignore it and hope it goes away: we are to face it and the person who caused it.  In the Gospel, Jesus sets out very specific progressive/proactive steps on how to address the conflict and once they are addressed, the next step that is implied but not stated, is the most transformative of them all. It is forgiveness.

Forgiveness is one of the most difficult disciplines of faith, not only when we are in the wrong seeking forgiveness, but when we have been wronged and are called to forgive the person so that the relationship can be restored.  One main reason a person cannot forgive usually boils down to, is the fact that their pride has been hurt and their pride is stronger than their ability to forgive and show mercy.

Remember: “It really doesn't matter if the person who hurt you deserves to be forgiven. Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself. You have things to do and you want to move on.”

This is why this passage is so important because it addresses the Christian understanding of forgiveness and deals with conflict.

That is why I would like to examine more closely today’s Gospel message.

1.                So what to do, when we are faced with interpersonal conflict? We are told to be proactive, to GO and point it out. Not as young children like to point out, “Look at all you did wrong” but it is meant more as, that if it hurt you bad enough that you are still hurt by it, then don’t let it sit on your heart, and let it fester, as it turns your heart against the person, but go and tell them about it.

And when you go speak with the person, speak to them in private. This does not mean on national television, nor does it mean you have to tell all your friends or loved ones about it before you approach the other party. The important thing is not to let your heart be consumed by hate for the other person and what they have done. Respect where they are coming from and what they have to say, which can be said easier in private. And if this does not work the first time, keep trying!

2.                But if talking with them after a while still gets you nowhere, and the offence is still there, then go to the next step, which is when Jesus talks about bringing in evidence--not random accusations from years ago--but those with solid ground, which might be a person who witnessed the action. This also applies to us -- when we have wronged someone it may be hard to hear it the first time they tell us, but if we hear it again, or from another party, it may still be hard to hear, but we may be more likely now to admit where we were wrong and to seek also to restore the relationship as well as learn to forgive ourselves.

And if that still does not work, then don’t give up just yet, keep trying. The goal of all these steps is to try to restore the relationship, not to seek revenge

3.                But sometimes, you cannot reach the person and they are not in a place to listen. That is why Jesus continued to say that if the offended party still felt the offence, then take it to the church and if that still does not work and it gets to be too much, the offended party is called to treat them as if they were a Gentile or tax collector, which means to put them aside. This could mean that the offended party may have to treat the other person with as much civil indifference as they can muster.
    But what I think Jesus was also trying to say is that we may have to put aside the person and our anger, because if we continue to focus on this wrong, then we can not move on. If we hold onto our pain and hatred, it has a way of transforming our hearts and how we see the world. Yet if we forgive and let go of it, this forgiveness can also transform our hearts and how we see the world.

The goal of this interaction is to try to get some justice, peace, and restore the relationship. Jesus knew that sometimes in life it is not possible for us to restore the relationship. This is where we have to give it up to God and know that what is happening is between God and them and remove ourselves from this anger or pain. 

While this is important, because the Gospel speaks of how to handle conflict, it is also important to understand the rest of passage, when Jesus says, that whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosened in heaven. What I believe Jesus is pointing out is an important:

If we bind our hatred to the other person, then it will be bound in heaven.   Is that something we really want to carry with us?  

Today’s Gospel reminds us that conflict resolution and forgiveness can come in stages. Sometimes before we can even take the first step to acknowledge or address the wrong to the other person or ourselves, we should at least try to acknowledge it in our minds to God. So today, when we say the General Confession and the Lord’s Prayer, I invite you to think of someone in your past whom you have hurt, and someone who has hurt you.  Even if you cannot forgive them just yet, offer their name or image up to God in your minds.

Catherine Ponder, an author powerfully once wrote: “When you hold resentment toward another, you are bound to that person or condition by an emotional link that is stronger than steel. Forgiveness is the only way to dissolve that link and get free.” 

The name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

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Missing Sermons

Dear Readers,

We apologize for the few missing sermons on our blog. Due to extemporaneous sermons or guest speakers the following sermons are absent from our files.

July 17th The Rev. Julia W. Messer preached an extemporaneous sermon with the Mission Team who went down to work in Belize. (See previous blog post to see their thoughts on their experience in Belize).

August 14th, was preached by guest priest, The Rev. David Hamilton. 

On August 28th, Hurricane Irene hit Emmanuel and the services were merged into one service at 10am. The Rev. John A. Baldwin preached an extemporaneous sermon about experiencing Irene and the Gospel.

Proper 16

August 21, 2011

The Rev. Marguerite Alley

A Chip Off the Old Block

 “You are Peter”, says Jesus, “and on this rock I will build my church”. Now that is just kind of funny to me. Think about it for a second. What comes next in the story? Peter, having been renamed, having been blessed for his intelligent answer to a deceptively simple question, then argues with Jesus about how things are going to go when they get to Jerusalem! I can hear Jesus thinking…”who died and put him in charge?....oh, right, me”! If we read further, we would see that Peter goes lickety spilt from being a perfect little disciple in this passage, to Satan, the Father of Lies in the next!  How can this be? And more over, how can this man be turned into our model for being Christians?

Upon first glance it can be very difficult to discover any kind of “good” news from this story. Peter is very quick to respond to Jesus. He almost appears to be “kissing up” in the modern vernacular. Then, when it really matters, he turns tail and runs. In reflecting on this, I thought surely there must be SOMETHING good we can say about Peter, the rock! I guess we can award him high marks for being the first one willing to answer Jesus on the question “and who do you say that I am?”, while the others probably  stared at the ground or counted freckles on the back of their hands. We could also say that he isn’t afraid to register his opinion in discussions. I suppose we could also say that at least when he screws up he is willing to keep trying. Perhaps the best we can say is that Peter is a work in progress!

When Jesus renamed Simon bar-Jonah, he might have had his tongue in his cheek a little bit. He actually uses two different forms of the word rock. First, he says you are Peter (petros). And then he says, “and on this rock (petra) I will build my church”. Now the first form, “petros” is masculine, but it really means little pebbles, or small stones. The second form, “petra” is the feminine form, and actually means giant boulder, or in the modern vernacular “the mother of all rocks!”. So, essentially, Jesus is telling Peter that he is a “chip off the old block”!

So, if we can say at least something good about Peter, the rock, then I suppose we can also glean something from this story of value for us as Christians today. So what might that be?

Well, consider this. If someone you know asked you what church you attend, and you stated proudly, I belong to Emmanuel Episcopal Church in beautiful downtown Kempsville, and then they said “what exactly do you believe there”?  What would you say? When I first moved to Virginia Beach, I was in a masters program through Loyola University in New Orleans. One of the members of my class asked the 4 Episcopalians in the group exactly what we believe, and one of our folks said this: “One of the great things about being an Episcopalian as that you don’t have to believe anything”. Is that true of us?  We could answer with the Nicene Creed, but that hardly seems like a statement of faith so much as a statement of institutional doctrine. We could sing “I believe that children are our future” or “I believe for every drop of rain that falls…” but those don’t really work, do they? What would we say?

In our Gospel this morning, Jesus is the person who is asking us “what exactly do you believe”? During the past weeks, Jesus has been travelling. During this time he has healed people, he has calmed the sea and he has fed several thousand people in one sitting. He was also teaching along the way, and asking people to think about which is more important, words or deeds. Once in a while, he checks his disciples to see if they are understanding what he is teaching, assumedly so that they might explain his teachings to others when he is not around. He is not shy about razzing them when they don’t get it. So, when this time, he asks a whole different kind of question, they are rather pleased that it is, in their opinion, an easy one. “John the Baptist”, “Elijah”, “Jeremiah”……are the answers they offer. They are not afraid to answer this question though, because they are merely parroting what they have heard others say. It is almost as if they are just giving the list of possible answers in hopes that Jesus will somehow react and they will know which it really is. Instead of course, Jesus says in essence..”Yeah, yeah….but I want to know is who do YOU say that I am? What exactly is it that YOU believe?”

Finally, after a very pregnant pause, Peter offers up “You are the Christ, the son of the living God”. Peter is almost always the first one we hear from. He is first to leave his job and follow Jesus, the first to try walking on water and frequently the first to answer Jesus’ questions. I wonder if Peter was courageous or just a quick thinker?

But evidently it is the right answer, because Jesus blesses him, renames him and tells him that he will be the head of his followers. I wonder if the other disciples were jealous of Peter? Considering his disastrous attempts at walking on water, and the fact that he often didn’t really live up to his promises, I think their jealousy might have been wasted.

Peter was certainly no hero. He did not exude the kind of character, intellect or leadership skills that I would look for in a church leader. But, frankly, I am glad that he has a place in heaven because I think, given his flaws, he will look upon mine with a more generous spirit than some others might. Peter might better understand me when I can’t find the right answer, or when I just parrot what I have heard without really trying to come to an answer of my own, or because mine doesn’t sound very theological or deep. Peter may understand me better in the times when I blurt out an answer before I think about it or when I make promises I cannot keep.

If Peter is the Rock on which the church is built, then I think that might be the good news of this story. If he can be important to God, then so can we! Because he is just like me, there may be some hope for me. Whether he is a chip off the old block, or a stone in my shoe, his flaws remind me that being a Christian is not about being flawless, but about being available and being willing. His perseverance reminds me that I need to keep trying to answer the hard questions, and keep getting up and moving on when I have fallen.

So, the next time someone asks about what it is we believe here in this zany little Christian community, don’t be afraid to try and answer them! What you believe does matter in big picture. You may not be very good at articulating your faith the first time, but you might be surprised by what you hear yourself say. The trick is that we must try. Not just to find the right words, but also to incorporate the message into our lives and if we do that, then we can all be chips off the old block. Put all those chips together, we can build a church.

Amen.

Lectionary used: Isaiah 51:1-6, Psalm 138, Romans 12:1-8, Matthew 16:13-20

Sermon

August 7, 2011

Lynne Coates

Genesis 37:1-4, 12-28; Psalm 105:1-6, 16-22; 45b; Romans 10:5-15; Matthew 14:22-33

In the name of God: Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Amen

I have a story. A young priest passed a beggar on the sidewalk and decided that the $20 he had just gotten from the ATM would be better spent on the beggar. So put the $20 in the envelope and, deciding to give him a bit of inspiration along with the money, wrote on the envelope in large letters. "PERSEVERE!" He slipped the envelope to the man as he walked past him. The next day, the priest passed the beggar again, and the beggar jumped up and handed the priest a big wad of bills. Surprised, the young priest asked him what that was for? The man replied, “This is your half of the winnings. PERSEVERE came in first in the fourth race at the track yesterday, and he paid 30 to one. Perseverance may have a bit to do with the sermon. But, mainly, I just liked the story.

Faith is a belief in the trustworthiness of something that has not been proven. In order to live into that trust, like Peter in today’s gospel, we have to be willing to leave the security of the boat.

Peter might be my favorite disciple. He is at times, egotistical, mouthy, ignorant, cocky, pig-headed, and when he opens his mouth, as we said in the 60s, he often inserts his foot. He is also the essential follower of Jesus. He is the disciple, the rock, on which Jesus is said to have placed his church. When we look at Peter before the Resurrection, we see a man who is often afraid to stand up for what he believes, who denies the person he claims to love above all others, and who goes into hiding in fear with the other ragtag Jesus-followers. After the Resurrection, we see Peter as a man with new vision, one who is willing to sustain persecution, even death, for his beliefs. In fact, the radical change in behavior of all the disciples following the Resurrection is to me the most compelling evidence that the Resurrection did take place. But that’s for another sermon.

In today’s gospel, we see a hint of the faith of Peter who is willing to take a risk and get out of the boat. This is a story of faith and challenge and a call to obedience which Henri Nouwen defined as “attentive listening - to the movements of the Spirit of God within us.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German Lutheran pastor, theologian and martyr in the resistance movement in Germany during World War ll, said that if Peter had not taken the risk and had not gotten out of boat, he would perhaps never have learned the meaning of faith that he demonstrated so clearly after the Resurrection. In his book The Cost of Discipleship, Bonhoeffer said that unless a definite step is demanded and acted upon, the call to discipleship can vanish into thin air. What this means, I think,  is to follow the two commandments of Jesus as stated in Matthew – love God and love my neighbor and be willing to act faithfully on whatever derives from that.

A bit about Bonhoeffer: In 1939, he went to the United States to teach at Union Theological Seminary. It appeared to be a good move since he had been active in the resistance movement against Hitler in Germany. He could wait out the war in safety, teaching and preaching what he believed. But later, as he wrote to Reinhold Niebuhr: "I have come to the conclusion that I made a mistake in coming to America. I cannot in good conscience remain in safety while my people are fighting for their very civilization. I cannot choose to fight with them from the security of living in the United States.” And so he returned to Germany on the last scheduled steamer to cross the Atlantic, knowing that he would in all probability be arrested and ultimately executed. He was.

God may not call us to be Christian martyrs, but I believe that God does call us to be faithful, by loving God and others. These commandments require, I think, action on our part. Faith, I believe, is not a feeling, but an action. It’s what we do. It’s what we choose to do because we know it is in keeping with God’s call to us. It may be as simple as sending cards to those who are ill or grieving. We may visit shut-ins. We may give time and talent where it is needed, even when it is inconvenient or sacrificial.  We may be willing to step out of our routine into something that feels uncomfortable because we know it’s the right thing to do.

Peter calls out to Jesus and Jesus calls back, “Come.” When Peter gets out of the boat he is being faithful to Jesus’ calling. This illustrates what we have come to call “stepping out in faith.” Literally in this case. This may have been a defining moment for Peter, as Bonhoeffer said, such that after the Resurrection, he could call on that faith to become the apostle on which our church is built. The church is founded on those who dared to get out of the boat.

God calls us always to do the next right thing.

For people who hid Jews during World War II this was the next right thing. People in every European country were willing to take in Jews who were escaping from Nazi persecution and death. Those who took the heavy risks of hiding Jews could incur the same kinds of persecution and punishment and even death that the Jews themselves were subject to. Many of those who took such risks were killed, sent to concentration camps, or had their homes and belongings burned. Hiding Jews also entailed grave consequences for their family and social life. Their children were generally forbidden to speak about the "guest" and could not bring friends home from school; often the families themselves could not receive visitors. Moreover, food and clothes became scarce and families had limited resources. These were faithful people, willing to follow what they believed God was asking them to do.

“Getting out of the boat” is a phrase that can mean doing something that takes effort, that feels uncomfortable, because it’s the right thing to do. The opposite of stepping out in faith, or stepping out of the boat, is backing away in fear. Making choices based on fear keeps us locked up, sometimes literally, in our houses. It keeps us prisoners from life in the world.

Here is what may seem to be a trivial example from my life when I recently backed away from doing something hard.

I was urged to join a group at Westminster-Canterbury called the Golden Tappers. Now, I had never in my life tap-danced. You can ask Bobby, our choir director, how much I hate to do the dances for our fall musicals. But I bought tap shoes and went to practice every Friday for an hour. It is good exercise, and I was sweating along with the rest of them. Then I heard that we would be doing a complicated routine on stage for the Follies. The Follies at Westminster-Canterbury is one of our largest events and a fund-raiser for the scholarship fund. Now some of you may have been willing to pay to see me tap dance in costume, but it was not to be. I made the decision to drop out about month before the Follies. I think there is a “disconnect” between my brain and my feet. When my Cursillo group would ask, “Are you having fun?” I would always say, “Not yet.” There were others in the Golden Tappers who claimed to be as challenged as I was, and I’m embarrassed to tell you that every one of them is older than I am. They stayed the course. I didn’t.  So, you could say that I was willing to dangle my foot in the water, but I couldn’t make myself get out of the boat. Now, I don’t think that God is seriously disappointed in me for failing to tap dance at the Follies, but I disappointed myself.

In the Genesis reading for today and in the Psalms, Joseph is featured. Remember that Joseph was sold into slavery in Egypt by a group of men who had bought him from Joseph’s brothers. Joseph’s tenure in Egypt is recounted as difficult labor and imprisonment. Through all that he stayed faithful to God, and he worked hard in captivity, and that landed him a favored position as second in command in the land of his captivity. Joseph later was able to be generous and forgiving to the very brothers who had betrayed him.

Most of us are not going to be sold into slavery or go bungee jumping or sky diving or even tap dancing.  We are not called to be reckless or to perform on stage. We are called to trust. What will that mean to you?  

Jesus calls us in discipleship, to reach out to others, to forge relationships. We cannot know how important that reaching out can be.

Years ago, when I taught at a middle school, a few of us found ourselves at the house of one of our teachers on a Friday afternoon. We were trying to cheer him up because his wife had left him quite unexpectedly.  And so we sat around and commiserated about the week at school, as I’m sure those who still work do on a Friday afternoon. I was the last one to leave. Something told me to say something encouraging to Joe (not his name). I felt uncomfortable about it. It wasn’t my business, I told myself. But I believe that God kept nudging me to say something. I told Joe that I was glad he had opened his home to all of us, and I hoped he would do this again, maybe as a weekly offering. I told him that his friendship was important to me, and I counted on it. We did go on to meet just about every Friday at Joe’s house. About a year later, Joe confided in me. He said that first Friday, he was waiting impatiently for all of us to leave, because he was considering ending his life. What I had said to him caused him to reconsider. He went on to open his home every Friday afternoon for years, and we all had some great times together.

I offer this up, not to pat myself on the back. It was a simple thing that I did. The point of the story is that we never know who among us needs to be encouraged, to be loved, to be offered friendship. When we have a chance, reach out. It is a way to get out of our own boats.                                                                                    

The church is here to help us be disciples and by example make disciples, and in the day we forget that, we cease to be a church and become a kind of cruise liner, trying to make sure that we are all comfortable and have a good time. 

Maybe God is calling you to a new ministry within the church, or a new job, or a new attitude. I hate it when God asks me to risk a new attitude. I like my old ones! I’m also comfortable doing crossword puzzles and watching The Young and the Restless in the afternoons. But I think God is calling me to better stewardship of my time. Stewardship always seems risky because we believe that if we give more of what we have, there won’t be enough left for us, but we will find that when God directs us to the road less-traveled, there will always enough spiritual resources  and even a lot left over.

Has God ever helped you?  Has prayer ever made life a little more bearable?  Have you ever found real comfort in your faith?  This week, there will be people who will get frightening calls from their doctors. Some will learn they’ve lost a job; some might realize their family is breaking up or might recognize the early signs of Alzheimer’s in themselves or a loved one.  Some might exchange hurtful words with a friend and wonder how to make it right.  Is it really fair to keep the good news of reconciliation and redemption hidden inside church walls and hope that whoever needs it may happen to wander in? 

Someone said, “A ship in a harbor is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for.”  God calls us to set sail.  And once we’re out on the sea, we see God and some new possibilities.  Jesus is on the water and bids us come.  Do we dare? 

God is patient with us when we can’t seem to leave the comfort of the boat.  But we remember: the church was built on Peter, the Peter Jesus knew before the Resurrection, who was willing to get out of the boat.

Amen

July 10, 2010   Proper 10 Year A Romans 8:1-11, Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

The Rev. John A. Baldwin

The Parable of the Sower, from this morning's Gospel, is one of only three parables that appear in all of the Synoptic Gospels: Matthew, Mark and Luke. The others are the Parable of the Mustard Seed, and the Parable of the Tenants in the Vineyard. The Gospel of John does not have any of Jesus' parables recorded.

This parable of the sower going forth to scatter seeds is rich in imagery and meaning. It's truly one of Jesus' masterpieces. Simple, yet profound. Even though we are 2000 years removed from the story and citizens in a society where seeds are more commonly scattered by huge farm machinery, we can still picture the solitary work of a sower scattering seeds...especially if we've planted gardens in our back yards.

Since this parable reappears every 3 years in our Sunday scripture readings, I've preached on it many times before during my ministry, often finding new wisdom and insight. Like all good stories, there are many entry points for drawing meaning from this simple tale. We can walk around it, examining each part of it.

We can, for example, reflect upon the parable with reference to our own spiritual life. What kind of soil am I?...rich and fertile, stony and hard, choked with worries and anxieties? We can broaden the question to refer to our faith community, our work environment, our families, our society. How receptive are we to God's grace and love? We can look at the parable not only in terms of the broad sweep of our life, but also in how it applies right now. What seed is God sowing in my life today, July 10th, 2011? When you entered Emmanuel this morning were you open to being receptive soil for the Word of God coming to you through scripture, to the grace of God coming to you through receiving the bread and wine of Holy Eucharist, to the love of God coming to you through your brothers and sisters in Christ? OR have you allowed the concerns, worries and anxieties that face us every week to distract, bother or hinder you, so that this morning you are rocky ground, and may walk back out into the world unaffected at the end of our time together? I pray every week that we are faithful in this place in nurturing, watering, weeding and tending each and every one of you, so that you may grow and yield good fruit in the world.

If we look at the sower as a description of God's action in the world, we can also pose the question: What does this reveal about God? We might even envision ourselves as the sower. What seeds are we sowing as disciples of Christ? as a parent or grandparent? as a worker in the vineyard? There's yet one more curious and vexing question which comes to mind on hearing the parable. Why is it that even in good soil the harvest varies, sometimes producing a hundred fold, but at other times only 60 or 30?

One of my favorite collections of short stories is called Story Power by James Feehan, and one of its entries reminds me very much of the Parable of the Sower. Here it is:

In 1910, a young explorer was traveling in the French Alps when he came upon a barren stretch of land, desolate and abandoned. He had traveled about 5 miles into this God-forsaken territory when he saw in the distance the stooped figure of an old man with a sack of acorns on his back and an iron staff in his hand. With the staff he made a hole in the ground, dropped in an acorn, and then brushed dirt on top. He told the explorer that he had planted 100,000 acorns over the past 3 years. "If I get one in ten to sprout I'll be happy", he said, adding that his wife and only son had died, and that as long as the Lord spared him he would carry on planting trees to bring back life to a land that was dying.

Fifty years later the explorer, now an old man himself, returned to a sight wondrous to behold. The acorns of 1910 had become an oak forest 11 kilometers longs by 3 kilometers wide. There were oak trees along the slopes as far as the eye could see. Birds were singing in the trees, wild-life frolicked in the shade, and streams flowed with water in groves that had been bone dry. At the entrance to the forest was a linden tree, the symbol of re-birth. As he gazed in wonder, he thought back to the old peasant who had worked alone to turn a desert into a forest, and had completed a task worthy of God. (Story Power, James A. Feehan, Resource Publications, 1994, p. 34)

The unflagging commitment and optimism of the old man, "If I get one in ten to sprout, I'll be happy" seems to be the key to his success. A sower, knowing all of the factors that can intervene before the harvest, has to let go of control over the seeds, scatter them widely and generously, and then move on to plant others. He or she cannot afford to plant them carefully one by one, and then worry over each one, whether or not it will grow and flourish. Sometimes the harvest is so far into the future that we can never be sure that an oak forest or fields of waving grain will be the end result.

We cannot know with certainty that the love and energy we invest in our children will result in well-grounded, whole and mature adults; OR whether the time we put into our work and projects will be beneficial to others; OR whether initiating a new friendship will blossom and flourish. But it's vitally important as the Parable suggests to keep on sowing those seeds, trusting that if we are faithful and constant, God's miracles of growth will occur.

I'd like to share one more story from Freehan's book, Story Power. In the days before electricity the streets were lit at night by gas lamps. The city lamplighter went from lamp to lamp lighting them with a burning torch. One evening, English writer, John Ruskin, was sitting in his house looking out his window across the valley where he could see the torch of a lamplighter, but because of the darkness he couldn't see the person. Ruskin commented to a friend, "That's a good illustration of a Christian. People may never have known him, they may never have met him, they may never even have seen him. But they know he passed through their world by the trail of light he left behind him." One might add, by the number of seeds of love and grace he or she has sown.

This marvelous parable is a gift to us from Jesus. As we walk around it, reflect upon it, and play with it....we cannot help but notice its deep down optimism, an optimism also reflected in the reflections of the prophet Isaiah (55:10-11): "For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and return not thither but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and prosper in the thing for which I sent it."
Amen

Proper 12-A

July 24, 2011

The Rev. Marguerite Alley

 I saw a picture yesterday, posted on Facebook, of a church marquee that said: “Satan called. He wants his weather back”! I have recently returned home following a stint as chaplain to the staff and campers at Camp Chanco, our Diocesan summer camp. While temperatures for the two weeks I was with them don’t compare to those we had this past week, it was still pretty darn hot!  The two weeks I spent at camp were a wonderful and challenging time for me. It brought back many great memories of the times I spent there. It also reminded me of the first time I went to the senior high conference. On the way home from camp, I was just chattering away to my parents about all the things we talked about, the songs we sang, the experiences we had and so forth. I few minutes into my extended answer to my mother’s question “How was your week?”, I noticed that her head had dipped to the side and then I heard her snore! I was so angry that every time after when she would ask about the week, I would refuse to answer her with anything other than “You wouldn’t understand”. As it turns out, my answer was true, if not rude, belligerent and disrespectful in its intent.

We often experience the very same frustration when we try to talk about God.  When we try to explain our most holy experiences with God, we find that we do not have the words to explain what being in this relationship feels like. We can share how our life is different but that comes out sounding pious. You could speak about how your heart feels as if it will explode sometimes or about how many wonderful people you have met. But all of that falls pretty far short of the real experience, wouldn’t you agree?  So, how can we speak of something we cannot see, or touch, or smell? How can we share with someone else what it feels like? Most of the time we are forced to use metaphors and similes, because we cannot accurately describe something that defies description.

The program I used for the time I was at Chanco focused on three important parables. The Parable of the Sower was the third one we explored. Part of what I did with the campers and staff was to have them create a simile to describe the “spirit of God”. So, in completing the sentence “the spirit of God is like…” I got some amazing answers from the kids and their counselors. I will share a couple of the ones I liked the most. One camper said the spirit of God is like “going back to your hometown after being away for a long time”; everyone is glad to see you, you feel at home and welcome. Another said it is like “surfing in the barrel”; you are surrounded by awesome power but it is also a little bit scary. The one I found most intriguing was this: The spirit of God is like “eating a taco”: when you first pick it up, it can be hard to handle but once you take a bite, it tastes so good, that you want more. And when you are finished, you feel full and satisfied. These are all great similes to help us understand something that cannot be seen or touched but they are all very different, and have more meaning to the ones who created them, than to the ones that heard them. So, even with good similes, the experience can be very different.

Jesus uses similes in his parables for the same reason. Now you might think, that of all people Jesus, who does have first hand knowledge of God and the kingdom, would be able to describe it for us. But even the Son of God uses ordinary everyday experiences. Jesus speaks indirectly, and makes some interesting and sometimes surprising metaphors with things that are holy and things that are “everyday”. This is one of the things I like most about Jesus’ teaching style! He takes everyday things, experiences and understandings and makes us look at them in new and fresh ways.

In our Gospel today, we hear first about the Mustard seed and then a handful of yeast. On the surface, neither of these is much to look at; a tiny seed and a hand full of yeast. But, placed in the right medium; the seed in soil and the yeast in flour, and the results are amazing: A shrub that is big enough for birds to build nests in and a huge loaf of bread are the result of these two seemingly insignificant ingredients. So, if the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed or a handful of yeast, then it must be amazing, powerful and there must be more to it than what we see on the surface.

The next two similes are a bit harder to see. A man finds a buried treasure, re-buries it then sells all he has to buy the field. So, he is lucky. He won the lottery. Then Jesus says that a merchant is in search of and finds a pearl of great price and sells all he owns to purchase it. Now as a merchant, he is already doing pretty well for himself but he finds something he really wants and is willing to sell all he has to acquire it. So, according to Jesus, each one finds something that makes everything else they “own” look kind of puny and small by comparison and they are willing to let go of all that they have acquired thus far in order to have this one thing. So, if the kingdom of God is like this, then what Jesus is saying is that the kingdom is uncommon but within our reach if we are willing to “pay for it”. The final simile is that the kingdom of God is like a net thrown into the sea. We are told that the net gathers all fish and that later they are sorted. Now, traditionally many folks have read this portion and have been inexplicably drawn to the part that speaks about the sorting, as if the parable is about who will get into the kingdom and who will not. I would suggest to you that nothing could be further from the truth of this parable! If the net gathers all kinds of fish, to be sorted later, then the kingdom is not something we find, but rather something that finds us and drags us to the shore. We don’t get to choose with whom we share the net.

The thing that most captures me about these similes is that in each of them there is a hint of mystery. In the first, the mustard seed goes into the ground…we cannot see it do its thing……then when the shrub grows to its full potential, there is nothing left of that original seed. It vanishes.  In the bread simile, the yeast goes into the middle of the dough. We cannot see its power immediately. In fact we cannot see how it works at all. All we can see is the huge, risen loaf ready for the oven.  In the field, the treasure is buried, and in the pearl story, the pearl is found among all the other pearls, but takes a discerning eye to find it. So, if the kingdom of God is like these stories then I think what Jesus is saying is that it is not really something we CAN see or touch or even define and describe, but something that finds us, something that must be searched for, something that must be felt, experienced and believed.

So, then…..if we can’t see it, touch it, define it or describe it, how are we supposed to look for it?  I suppose that one might go on retreat, or join a monastery or convent. That might free us from all our “ordinary, everyday worries” so that we could devote ourselves to the search. But where should we look? If the kingdom is hidden in this world, then it is really well hidden and only those with the best eyesight and the most committed of us will be able to find it. But, if Jesus uses ordinary, everyday experiences to explain it, then it just kind of makes sense to me that we ought to be able to experience, define and articulate it through our own ordinary, everyday experiences…with a bit of help. What if it is not really hidden but rather, just not in plain sight? Think of those magic eye drawings that were so popular a few years ago. Once you saw the object, it really stood out, but when you first looked, it didn’t make any sense. I suspect that Jesus chose to speak in parables for one simple reason; he knew that ordinary everyday language, experiences and ideas were the only way that we COULD understand what the kingdom of God is like. Why else would he talk about farmers and fields, baking bread, fishing and buying and selling things unless his intention was to tell us that the kingdom really is as simple as these things, that our treasure is not buried under the “X” on a map discovered in a time capsule, but right here among the people, places and activities we share and enjoy everyday. He seems to be saying that to speak about things where words fail us, we need but use words with which we are already intimately familiar. He seems to be saying that the places to look are those where we spend most of our time; within our families, our homes, our friends and our communities. Because if we don’t recognize the kingdom in these places, then we stand little chance of recognizing it anywhere.  Because we are the soil where the seeds have been sown. We are the earth where they will grow and they are growing in us and in others even when we can’t see it happening. We are the field and Jesus, the treasure buried within us, is the only treasure worth seeking.

AMEN