Tuesday, March 20, 2012

4 Lent: John 3:16 For God so LOVED the world.



John 3:16                     The Rev. Julia W. Messer
4 Lent on March 18, 2012

(Sermon was mostly extemporaneous here is the outline of the sermon.)


~~~



For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.





[Hold up a sign saying “John 3:16.”] We see this everywhere, don’t we?  On bumper stickers, billboard, or on signs people hold on street corner streets (or in church).   We see it so often that it could be perceived as almost trite.  But it isn’t.  It is powerful.  This passage alone seems to summarize the Christian faith into one sentence and has been called “The Gospel in a nutshell.”


But have you actually ever given thought to this passage, examined what it really says?


For God so loved...    What is love? Can you define it? Can you hold it in your hand and say this is love? Not really. We can express how love makes us feel. We can act upon our feelings, such as when we show our love to someone by giving them a flower. The flower is not love but it is a tangible way we can represent our love.  It is something that we can participate in:   we can hold the flower, we can see it, and we know what it means. Sacraments are like the flowers; they are something we can hold in our hand, see, smell, and share with others.  The sacraments are the body of Christ, the Church, reacting to, and participating in God’s love and grace that are freely offered, in tangible forms and also remain intangible.

A Sacrament is an outward sign of an inward and visible grace.

So what are Sacraments? They are a sacred act that can celebrate the holy and pivotal moments of importance in our lives. Sacraments are relational, just as love is.  It is between God and us.

For God so loved the world.   We believe in a God that not only loved the world then but loves the world now. We believe in a God that is actively present in the world, in us, in these holy acts, and through us. These Sacraments are recognizing God’s grace that is freely given to us by God, where our sins are forgiven, our hearts are lightened, and our wills strengthened.

Sacraments make God’s grace and love visible and tangible in this world.

In the Episcopal Church we believe there are 7 sacraments but 2 of them are the great sacraments.

*Can you name the two Christ commanded us to do? (Baptism and Holy Eucharist).
*Can you name the other 5? (Confirmation, Marriage, Ordination, Confession/Reconciliation, and Last Rites/Unction).



 In and of themselves, these Sacraments are important, but what is more important is that we participate in them. And once we take these sacraments, they are a part of us and cannot be separated from us. Just as we can never be separated from Christ’s love for us. We become a part of Christ’s body, and therefore become the hands and feet of Christ in the world.



For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son
    God did not send his Son to save only those who fit a certain stereotype or mode. He did not come to save us because of our nationality, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation.  He did not come to save us for whatever reason we may think makes us worthy or unworthy.  God came to save the world, not just humans, not just those in a first world nation. 


For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.    And what does he ask of us?  He asks us to believe in Him and His only begotten Son.  And for that, He promises us eternal life.  When we die we just are drawn closer to the love of God. Even though our bodies fail us and the world may abandon us, Christ is with us in the midst of our struggles.

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him….   When we were baptized we were adopted into a family of God that loves us beyond comprehension, so strong that nothing we do can separate us from that love. When we participate in Communion, we participate in Christ’s act of love with his friends.


That Christ so loved the world that he gave himself, so that all those who believe in his Father and in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. Just as God loves us, we are called to love our neighbors as Christ loved us.


For we so loved the world, that we give of ourselves to help others, not because someone is deemed worthy by us but becomes they are worthy because of Christ. We are called to be sacraments in life.


We are called to be a tangible, visible, and outward signs of the inward and spiritual grace that is within each of us.


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

Lent 3

March 11, 2012     John A. Baldwin


From point A to Point B is about 200 miles, a little less than the distance to Charlottesville, Lynchburg or Danville. I wouldn't want to walk to any of those places by choice....but if I had to, I might be able to do it in several weeks of hard walking. I'd have to add on to that time, of course, if I had to make detours to find water or food; if the terrain were particularly rough in spots; if I were traveling with an older or younger person who couldn't walk as fast as I can; or if the sun were too hot to walk in the mid-parts of the day....but can you imagine it taking 40 years to travel that distance even in the worst of conditions? Yet that's how long it took Moses and his people, as well as their flocks and herds, to travel the distance between the Red Sea and Jericho in the Promised Land (roughly 200 miles).



What on earth were they doing, poking along like that? Was life in the desert so wonderful that they didn't want it to end? Hardly! Famine and thirst, squabbling amongst the rank & file, attacks by enemies, and sad, though unrealistic, remembrances of the good old days in Egypt....that was the Exodus experience. Why drag your feet for 40 years?




Actually a lot more was happening in the desert than trying to get from point A to point B. The Hebrew people were in transition from slavery to freedom, from dependency to self-reliance, from a simple and rudimentary faith in God towards greater spiritual maturity. In effect they were living out our theme for Lent this year - Letting Go and Returning Home....letting go of slavery, and returning home to the Promised Land, the land flowing with milk and honey. This couldn't possibly happen in a several week hike from Cairo to Jericho, even under the best of circumstances. It took a whole new generation to leave the old ways behind & create a new, strong & vibrant community.


Our Old Testament reading this morning (the receiving of the 10 Commandments) is a very important part of that transition from old to new. The Book of Exodus relates that it happened early on in the Wilderness experience, during the third month after they left Egypt. Moses has gone up Mt. Sinai to pray, reflect and open himself to guidance by Yahweh. He comes down the mountain to his people bearing a covenant - a new vision of what it means to live in community, and be the people of God. There is a focus of allegiance....I am the Lord your God - NO OTHER. There are guiding principles, making possible a strong and vibrant community.....regular, built-in times for rest (the Sabbath) ....honor for the older generation ....respect and decency towards one's neighbor.



Adoption of those principles for living didn't just happen overnight. It took years of experience and hard-living for the slaves of Egypt to become a people united in their allegiance of God, a people ready to enter the Promised Land, overcome fierce resistance, and establish a new society rooted in the land. The Exodus story is a classic example of the importance of times of transition from one way of living, thinking, experiencing and being, to another. Without that 40 year transition period, a motley crew of dependent people would have wandered into Canaan, and either lost their identity through assimilation by the Canaanites, or been wiped out by their enemies.


Some years ago I was introduced to some theories of transition that are borne out in the Book of Exodus, and have also been validated in my own experience. Transition theory tries to bring meaning and understanding to those turbulent times in human existence when things come to an end, and we are faced with change, whether we like it or not. Our lives are filled with transitions: the loss or addition of family members; changes in leadership (political, religious, cultural); getting married or divorced; moving to a new community, retirement or loss of employment. On top of that are the societal forces of change which we are powerless to resist, but against which we desperately want to push back.


Transitions involve an ending to things that are comfortable, established or predictable. Before we are ready and able to move on into a new beginning, we must of necessity go through a "wilderness" experience much as the Israelites did......a time of disorder and disorientation, heightened emotions, anxiety and fear, but also of longing and anticipation....a period that Transition Theory calls "the Neutral Zone".


Most people are anxious to get through the "Neutral Zone" as quickly as possible, seeking some semblance of stability and order in a sea of change. To rush through transitions, however, is to miss a wealth of opportunity for personal and spiritual growth. A helpful analogy is that of the change of seasons from autumn to winter which, on the surface, seems to be a movement through dying into a void of life and vitality. In reality, however, beneath the soil, plants and animals are gathering their strength for renewal & rebirth. Some may remember those powerful lyrics from the Bette Middler song The Rose: "When the night has been too lonely, and the road has been too long, and you think that love is only for the lucky & the strong, just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows, lies the seed that with the sun's love, in the spring becomes the rose."


Transition theory asserts that the "neutral zone" between endings & begin-nings is a fertile period when people are potentially more open to personal and spiritual growth than at any other time. Without a firm anchor of routine, with our world out of balance, we are more open to vivid dreams, mystical experiences, and unsettling questions about who we are, our value and worth, our directions and purpose, than when things are rolling along smoothly.


Against these realities, then, perhaps we shouldn't feel overly frustrated at the slowness many have in embracing change and getting on with living as quickly as we might want them to. Nor should we be so quick to despair when we ourselves have difficulty realigning ourselves to new leadership, new ways of doing things, or new directions of the Holy Spirit. In fact, it may well be in the times of transition that God is speaking to us more clearly and directly, if we take time to listen and reflect.


Over the past 50 years our church, the Episcopal Church, and other mainline Protestant churches,  have been in the midst of significant and powerful transitions. In the 1960's we were deeply in the midst of the civil rights movement. In the 1970's and 80's we grappled with changes in our Prayer Book and forms of worship, along with movement towards affirming the ministry of women at all levels in our church. In the 1990's and the new millennium we have been moving through contention and controversy over human sexuality in general, and homosexuality in particular.


 For some, these transitions towards affirming the worth and dignity of every human being have been unsettling, filled with anxiety and uncertainty, and even at times pretty painful. They have also been also a fertile period, as women have moved gracefully into leadership, as gay people have experienced God's love through the Church in ways unimaginable in the past, and as new and vital liturgies and music have emerged, lifting us to soaring new heights of awe and wonder. Some have felt these transitions to be richly infused with the Holy Spirit of God, while others have felt we were heading down paths contrary to scripture and the way God means things to be. These have not been easy transitions at all. People we love have departed for other faith communities, or thrown in the towel completely on involvement in organized religion. We are still in the Wilderness, but hopefully ultimately on the journey to a Promised Land, flowing with milk and honey.


Here at Emmanuel in Kempsville, we are in transition too, make no mistake about it. The realignment of Princess Anne Road from our front door to the back of our property is challenging us. How will this affect us in the years to come? How will we transition from one reality to another? The jury is still out. Another involves a new financial reality....moving from a time when we were blessed with an abundance mentality, anything we wanted to accomplish we could, to one of greater scarcity. How will we respond to the challenge to dig more deeply into our own personal resources for the sake of our spiritual community's well-being? We are facing unsettling questions as we look to our future about who we are, our value and worth, our directions and purpose. Yet if we listen faithfully, God's Holy Spirit will guide and lead us as it has so powerfully throughout human history.


As much as we might like to, we simply cannot avoid transitions in this life unless we are dead. Even then, theologians would argue passionately that at death we are embarked upon the greatest transition of all, from mortality to immortality in the nearer presence of God.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Lent 2B


Lent 2B
March 4, 2012
The Rev. Marguerite Alley



  

“ For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things. If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.

Mark 8:33-34



For a few years Lent was a very troubling time for me personally. While it has always been one of my favorite seasons of the church year, it has not always been a time that I looked forward to because I am not very good about denying myself. When I was growing up I had many Catholic friends. Lent was a time when the entire family was engaged in a church “activity” if you will. Everyone openly discussed what they “were giving up” and helped remind each other to stick to their promise. There was a little competition sometimes amongst teens to give up something really important to them and therefore prove beyond doubt who was the most devoted. Of course chocolate was at the top of that list along with drinking soda, listening to the radio, and the all time favorite (especially of parents) swearing. The part that made me begin to dread Lent was the family part. My family was not “into” church like I was. So when I made a Lenten promise, I was pretty much on my own to keep it. My youth group friends tried to be supportive but they were little help on Wednesday when I was rummaging through my room looking for lost Halloween candy because I wanted chocolate more than life itself. I realized that it was hard to keep that promise alone and that I needed a support group to help me keep that promise. So, as Lent approached, I could feel myself begin to feel somewhat down, because I knew I would have to endure the 40 days, basically alone. That was back in the days when we Episcopalians kept our faith to ourselves and would never dream about talking about it with others!



Well, we Americans are nothing if not an ingenious lot. Sometime back a great church leader probably felt sorry for all of us who were feeling down in Lent; or maybe it was a teenage theologian who offered this as a way to take the sting out of what was intended to be a “learning experience”. I am not sure who it was, but somewhere along the line, it was suggested we didn’t need to give anything up. Maybe we could take on something instead. So, we started making promises like, “ I will read the Bible every day”, “I will spend 10 minutes thanking God for all my blessings”, “I will get up 30 minutes earlier and exercise each day” and so forth. So we went from being a little down about having given up our favorite thing, to being exhausted, sore, and confused about how to be thankful for cancer.



All of this nonsense is a scheme. It is a scheme created by some well- meaning church leader to help us understand this concept of denying ourselves.



Being Americans, it is easy for us to forget that the entire world does not see things the way that we do. We are after all the land of plenty, the land where the streets are paved with gold. We are not really very good with the whole “deny ourselves” idea, are we? And our current culture is certainly no help either. Everything is made out to be the absolute best, the biggest, the most economical. Every product is such that you must have it or risk being left behind, left out or left over. So when Jesus tells us to deny ourselves, within a nano second, we are bombarded with 52 ads about how that would be bad for our health, bad for our complexion, bad for your sex life, bad for your marriage, bad for your kids, bad for your dog, your yard, your house. Denial just isn’t in our make up. (Unless of course you are a politician, a public official or a loan officer). We have a hard time denying ourselves because unlike the ads we see on television we can find no immediate benefit to our family, our income, and ourselves. We cannot deny ourselves until we know “what is in it” for us.



Not knowing what we “get” out of this denial suggests that we are so self centered that we cannot even imagine ourselves doing something, just because it is the right thing to do, or the thing that Jesus suggests would be best for us. It smacks of some kind of deep- seated need to be the center of the universe and have the world revolve around us. I don’t like to see myself this way, yet there is plenty of evidence of this truth all around me. We can’t control our eating at times, I can’t seem to make myself get up 30 minutes earlier, we can’t slow down and stop feeling so impatient. We can’t imagine what life must be like for that person, because we already know she is homeless because she made bad choices in her life. I cannot remember what it was like to be told: “stop being a baby, you are too old to act this way” and “what were you thinking! You are not old enough to make that decision!” all in the same day. We cannot understand why young people can’t see that 15 years from now they will understand why we are holding them accountable now. We can’t make our kids get up and come to church, it is the only morning we have together as a family. Has it never occurred to us that getting up and coming to church together and then going out to share a meal together rather than everyone sleeping in, in their own room, doing their own thing, might be the most cherished time our family spends together? Have we not figured out that sometimes the pay-off is a little down the road? For goodness sake, we can’t leave our cell phones at home or even just turn them off during worship. My goodness,  I guess I  am the center of the universe! Let’s proclaim it loud and clear folks! We are the most important people on the planet! There now, don’t you feel better? It feels good to tell the truth, because that is what we think of ourselves. We may not say it out loud, but deep down, we act that way…and just as we teach our children, we know that actions do speak louder than words. We cannot deny ourselves anything. We aren’t wired for it.



There is a deeper and more disturbing truth here though. Having established that we cannot deny ourselves and looked at some of the ways in which we place ourselves above everyone and everything around us, let’s look at what is to me the single most important truth born from this lesson. In not denying ourselves any of the little things that we have come to cherish through familiarity and habit, we deny ourselves THE ONE THING WE ABSOLUTELY CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT. By denying ourselves the chance to let go  of some of the trappings of modern life, if only for 75 minutes once a week, we are denying ourselves the chance to actually engage in a relationship with the one who created us. We are denying ourselves the chance to know some measure of peace in our lives, to feel as though our lives have meaning and purpose, to set an example in word and deed for our children to find meaning in their lives as well. To deny ourselves the opportunity at a real relationship that comes from familiarity, faithfulness and discovery is to deny ourselves the greatest gift of all, the most expensive and priceless, the most beneficial to our health, the one that sets us apart from the others. Wow! We need to make that into a commercial!



So it is not that we are incapable of self-denial. We deny ourselves, our TRUE selves every day. We deny our true nature every day. It is our nature to be in community, not to be alone. We deny ourselves support when we cannot talk about our struggles, when we don’t share our wisdom and our experience with those who most need it. We deny ourselves the chance to hear God’s voice gently speaking to us, because God’s voice is softer than the ring tone on your cell phone.  We deny ourselves the chance to have a glimpse of the Christ because we cannot allow ourselves a single moment of discomfort, anxiety or fear.



So as it turns out, we are capable of denying ourselves after all.



Today more than ever in my lifetime, we need our community of faith. As our economy struggles to right itself, and our friends struggle to make ends meet, we see clearly that we cannot go this alone. We cannot turn our backs to those outside our doors; we cannot batten down the hatches and weather the storm. We need all hands on deck. We need to be encouraging one another and caring for each other. More importantly, we need to be willing to stop denying ourselves the greatest gift we have been offered.



So when we read, “let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” let us remember that to deny ourselves does not mean to live without our most important relationship. It is to live without some of the little things we have added along to way to make ourselves feel better about denying our relationship with God. To deny ourselves is to let go some of the things that we have used to try and fill the God space, and that have come up woefully lacking and have made us feel strangely more empty. To deny ourselves some little substitute is to make a home in our lives for God.