Good Friday

Good Friday (from the senses pious,holy of the word "good"): On this day Christians commemorate the passion, or suffering, and death on the cross of Jesus Christ.

This Taize song “Stay with me” is a meditative piece remembering Christ wrestling with the devil in Gethsemane while his disciples falling asleep. http://youtu.be/zkivkORaeJA

On this day many Christians spend the day in fasting, prayer, meditation and repentance. It is based on the canonicals gospel’s account of the crucifixion of Jesus, estimated to be on Friday in 33AD. The biblical accounts can be found in Matthew 27:27-28:8; Mark 15:16-16:19; Luke 23:26-24:35; and John 19:16-20:30.

Maundy Thursday

Blessings this Maundy Thursday. Today is the day we remember that we are called to be servants. Watch a youtube video: The Servant Song" http://youtu.be/k-Pk2NHKg_o

The English word Maundy in that name for the day is derived through Middle English and Old French mandé, from the ...Latin mandatum, the first word of the phrase "Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos" ("A new commandment I give unto you, That you love one another; as I have loved you"), the statement by Jesus in the Gospel of John 13:34 by which Jesus explained to the Apostles the significance of his action of washing their feet. The phrase is used as the antiphon sung during the "Mandatum" ceremony of the washing of the feet, which may be held during Mass or at another time as a separate event, during which a priest (or at Emmanuel someone we love) ceremonially washes the feet of others.

Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday 2012

The Rev. Marguerite Alley

Frenzy…………..screaming, shouting…children running around, mothers scolding them, fathers chatting while trying to keep an eye on the family…….bumping for better line of sight…..palm waving, singing favorite temple songs…….all to get a glimpse of the one they believed would end their suffering at the hands of Rome.

The only one not effected by the frenzied and festive mood? The donkey.

As a young person…Palm Sunday felt like a dress rehearsal for Easter. Special music, new clothes…a party atmosphere.


As you no doubt know...things take a turn for the worse.  The change is almost unbearable. If you allow yourself, you can feel the anguish and the tragedy. There are few situations in our lives that could ever reflect the stark juxtaposition of the joy and anguish that occur during that 24 hour period. Maybe you could create a scenario to capture it. Like…witnessing the birth of your child and knowing it will mean the death of your spouse in the same day.

Today is the day when we confront the dark side of humanity as we get caught up in the mood, follow the crowd and find ourselves shouting “Crucify him”! along with the rest of the crowd. I would like to think that I could think for myself and not get sucked into mass hysteria. But who am I kidding? I suspect, knowing myself, that just like I did in Jr. high, and high school and last week, I would have followed the crowd and jeered at, looked down on, and scoffed at one whose message was so threatening to all I had known and believed before. It is sad, but true.

In a playful moment last week, the staff here spent some time considering what we should name our “dark passenger”. By the time we were done, we were introduced to Izzy, Camilla, Regina, Bubba, Jethro, Wanda and Chrissy. Each in someway, represents the part of ourselves we have to keep in check. While it was, as I said, a playful moment, it is also a necessary one. Being aware of our frailty, allows us to be more honest and authentic and to admit that we are in fact broken; each in a different way, and in need of the healing that is offered to us by our relationship with Jesus.

So..we have two very distinct moods today. They are incongruous, asymmetric and violently opposed to each other. If you could anthropomorphize, or ascribe human qualities to them for a second…they are Atilla the Hun and Mother Theresa. Adolf Hitler and Clara Barton. Napolean and Ghandi. They are joy and hatred. But in the end they are nothing but Love and Fear.

Most of us are drawn to love….like moths to light. We want to be close to it, to feel its warmth. Most of us are also drawn to fear…like when we rubber neck at an accident sight or choose to go to a horror movie. Our curiosity drives our behavior. We need to see what happened. To understand. Yet…we don’t stick around long enough to see the body dragged from the car. We get a taste of tragedy..and that is all we want.

This creates, if you will pardon the educationeese….”cognitive dissonance” for us. How can we be drawn to both? How can both even exist at the same time? So, because we are gifted with the ability to think, we try to solve the problem. The way we do this is to convince ourselves that one will cancel out the other. So we remove the ugliness of the second part of the story and save it for later. We hear it…but we don’t take it in. We take the palm fronds, but not crown of thorns.  For centuries the church has struggled with this, but we have found the solution. When we leave church on Palm Sunday….we don’t come back until Easter! It is the perfect solution….like closing your eyes in a horror movie. We use our own fast forward button to just skip ahead to when all the suffering and ugliness is over and Jesus is at home with God and being waited upon by all the angels. Sometimes, we even joke with ourselves and say “leave it to the church mice” the “worship junkies”…..those more spiritual than we are……leave it to them to sit with Jesus through the long night, leave to them to sit outside the tomb.

Well, friends…..I am going to be very direct with you this morning, and I apologize in advance if I offend anyone.  If you choose not to participate in Holy week liturgies you are missing the point of these liturgical observances. The point is not just another service, just another sermon, just another chance for an offering. The point is that, if you want to experience Easter for YOURSELF….(Jesus already has, you know!) then you must have your own night of betrayal and loneliness. You must have your own day of darkness. We are experiential beings. We cannot possibly understand the true meaning of this story if we don’t first allow ourselves to fully enter the landscape and participate. I can tell you that at the end of Maundy Thursday when the tabernacle is empty, the altar bare, and the crosses are draped in black, there is no escaping the feeling of absolute emptiness, loss and anguish. On Good Friday as we metaphorically wait and hope that Jesus will be delivered from the cross, there is no avoiding a personal inventory of the ways in which I have personally fallen short of the glory of God. On Saturday evening, when the first light enters the church and we hear the salvation story, baptize new members and celebrate again, but for the first time, the common meal that Jesus asks us to share, there is no way you can not feel filled with light and buoyancy and joy.

In each of our lives there have been and will be opportunities for us to let go of the things that hold us back, the things that keep us bound up in fear. By letting go of those things we can return to our true selves: we are children of a living God, children of a loving God. Union with God is our true home. To return we will have to choose between acting in love or out of fear. I challenge you this year to consider that choice. Or will you follow the crowd? Will you follow Jesus?

5 Lent

March 25, 2012  John Baldwin

I begin my sermon today with a short story by William Aitken which comes to mind when I hear the request of some Greeks to Philip in our Gospel reading this morning, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”

A pastor in Kansas shared his concerns with the church custodian about something strange that was happening at noon each day. A shabby elderly man had been entering the church, staying a few minutes and then leaving. What was he up to ? Some church members had become concerned and had suggested locking the church during the week– expensive furnishings and all, you know. The custodian was asked to watch out for the man. and question him about his activities.

For several days the caretaker watched. As regular as clockwork the man came & went. Nothing was missing from the sanctuary. Nothing was harmed. Finally at the end of the week, the caretaker accosted the man. “Look here, friend, what are you up to going into our church every day?” “I go to pray”, the old man replied quietly.

“Come on now”, the caretaker said sternly. “you don't stay long enough to pray. You just go up to the altar and then leave. I've been watching you.” “That's true”, he replied. “I don't pray very long. I don't know any of those long, fancy prayers. I just come up and say, “Jesus, it's Jim.” I wait a moment and then go away. It's just a little prayer, but I'm pretty sure he hears me.”

Some time later, Jim was injured in an accident & admitted to the city's charity hospital. He was placed in a ward with several other destitute men. This ward was normally a tough assignment for the hospital nurses. The men were generally cross and miserable, sometimes even abusive. As the days passed, however, the staff began to notice a change in the attitude of the patients. Anger subsided. Complaints turned into compliments. One morning as laughter was heard in the ward, a nurse came in to find out what was going on. “What's happened to all of you? Where has your usual grumbling gone?”

One man said, “It's Old Jim, he's always so happy.” Another joined in, “I know Jim's in pain, but he's happy all the time. He makes me ashamed to fuss and complain.” The nurse crossed the long, crowded ward to Jim's bedside, and with a questioning look and a half- smile she asked, “What is it that makes you so joyful?”

Jim smiled and said, “I'm happy because of my visitor.” “Visitor?” the nurse asked in puzzlement. “You have no family. You've never had a visitor.”

“Oh yes I have” Jim said. “I have a visitor every day.” His eyes brightening, Jim continued. “Every day about noon, he comes and stands at the foot of my bed and says, “Jim, It's Jesus.”

Have you seen Jesus, my Lord, He's here in plain view. Take a look, open your eyes, he'll show it to you.”

Another man, another place...writing from prison to a small Christian community in a port city on the Aegean Sea, St. Paul had this to say, “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as refuse, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him.” (Philippians 3:8)

Interesting perspectives aren't they? The first a poor man who is constant in faith, day after day, “Jesus, it's Jim” “Jim, it's Jesus”...simple, direct, unpretentious. The other, a more sophisticated and articulate theologian from another era, who says simply, “knowing Jesus is the only thing that's worth anything.” What joins the two across the centuries is their close personal friendship with the Lord.

When Jesus chose his 12 apostles, he invited them into friendship. The Gospel of John in particular, stresses the importance of the friendship between Jesus and his disciples. In chapters 13-17, Jesus retreats to the upper room for the Last Supper with his inner circle. Here he shares his inner hopes and dreams, and his love for his disciples. In chapter 15:15 Jesus says to them: “I call you friends.” His relationship with Peter, James, John and the rest is deep and very important to Jesus. All of the marks of friendship are present: Shared intimacy; forgiveness and the acceptance of foibles; presence at critical times; laughter and celebration.

When Jesus was crucified, his disciples were devastated, not simply because an inspirational teacher was being taken from them, but because he was THEIR FRIEND.

I'd like to share with you a short reflection describing 3 different levels of friendship. Level one is that of acquaintance. This is when you know another person because of proximity. They could be a neighbor with whom you occasionally chat when you're walking the dog; someone who sits in a pew near you on Sunday morning; or someone you may chat with at the coffee machine, but who, should they move away, you are not likely to maintain any contact with. We may have many acquaintances. They are relationships of convenience, courtesy & general politeness. The conversation usually stays on safe topics with low emotional content. They may be very pleasurable, but they're not very deep.

Level two is that of companionship. Companions share a goal, a task, a hobby or a need and consciously schedule time together to pursue them. While they may never get very deeply into a sharing of vulnerabilities or emotional struggles, companions enjoy one another's company and develop a sense of trust in one another.

Level 3 is that of established friendship where the real you is known by the other person, and where you feel free to tell one another just about anything. This knowing and being known is a result of having spent time together and talking at a deep level because you respect and trust that person. Sadly, this kind of friendship, though fairly common amongst women, is rarer with men because it requires a large investment of time and attention, trust and self-disclosure.....qualities that are alien to the competitiveness that characterizes many male relationships. In established friendships, our normal human flaws become evident, but they do not hinder relationships.

The experience of the disciples, of Paul, and of “Old Jim” is that of a level three relationship with Jesus. As what level would you rate your friendship with the Lord? - acquaintance, companion, or established friend? Spiritual growth in the Christian faith is all about moving towards a level 3 friendship with the Lord, where we know and feel the deep and abiding love of God; where we can confess our weakness and shortcomings without shame or fear; where we can share our innermost aspirations, longings and desires and feel understood.

Like any friendship, a relationship with Jesus requires devoting time and energy to being in his presence through prayer, scripture reading, worship and openness to the Holy Spirit. If we are to move beyond acquaintance to companionship, and perhaps eventually to an established friendship with Jesus, we need to believe and trust that it is deeply worth our devotion and energy, and commit time to cultivating it day by day.

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.

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.