The Rev'd Kenneth H. Saunders III
Christ Episocpal Church
Cleveland, NC
RCL Year A (Proper 11) - July 20, 2008
Genesis 28:10-19a
Psalm 139: 1-11, 22-23
Romans 8:12-25
Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
There is a man from Asheville that wrote me an e-mail this week…
He is doing some Genealogy research that has led him to Christ Church. Some of his relatives are buried here. That made me start to think…
Who are you? Who are your people? Who are your kin?
These are questions that all of us are asked in many different ways every day.
Culturally, here in the South, “Who are your people?” (or better yet… who’s yo mamma?) is an essential question – and usually the first question that a new person in town, or a new boy or girlfriend gets asked.
Think about it. We ask this type of question in so many different ways, to just about everyone we meet… It’s become sort of a habit. We assume the person we’re talking to has a family, or a place to belong to talk about… and we are often so taken aback or don’t know how to respond if a person says, “I don’t know, I was brought up in a foster home,” or “My family doesn’t care about me anymore, I just got out of drug rehab.”
If we are a caring people, we feel for people who find themselves adrift and alone for whatever reason, because that sense of belonging is so important to us as human beings. I am sure that some of you remember the old song, “People, people who need people, are the luckiest people in the world.” But if we’re being honest with ourselves, hasn’t each one of us at one time in our lives, felt completely alone, unneeded – and even cut off from family and friends?
What happens to us when all we see or feel is darkness? What happens to our sense of self, if we feel that - the darkness is our own fault? What happens when it is our own fault – caused by a bad decision, sin, or our own deliberate selfishness? and we feel that there is no one there to reach out to. Have you ever felt that way? It’s really hard. What do we do? Some despair, others stay wrapped in their anger and become bitter, others hang in there with hope. But how do we choose?
Lots of questions… These questions may be overwhelming or they may be questions we’ve never really thought about, but the mere asking makes us think about some of our more difficult days. Regardless of how overwhelming or difficult they my be… Are they really unanswerable questions?
Not at all, because all of our readings today give us a reason to hope. All of our readings today give us ways to have relationships with others, even when we’re not kin.
Being part of a family is what each of our readings today is all about: God’s family.
Paul gives a wonderful definition of how we belong to God’s family: “For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the spirit of adoption. When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ – if in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.”
There we have it! None of us ever needs to fear being completely alone ever again even if we don’t have an earthly family. We all are part of God’s family. We can cry “Abba!” We can be absolutely sure that, as the spirit of God is within every single one of us, we are brothers and sisters of Christ and heirs of God’s glory.
Paul also reminds us that this family connection doesn’t break down when we suffer. Christ suffered – we suffer, but we are not left alone as he was not left alone.
But then we wonder about the suffering, don’t we??? More questions…
When people get sick… or we see that people’s suffering is not of their own doing, we often hear other folks say things said like, “God never gives you more than you can handle” or “This suffering will make you a stronger person.”
But think about how some folks react to suffering, they think is brought on by a person’s bad choices in life. A homeless person asks for some change, a single mother with children getting welfare, a young man who’s just gotten out of jail and can’t find a job – that’s their problem, isn’t it?
We often hear some folks say, “It’s their own fault,” or “They’re lazy,” or “My hard-earned taxes have been supporting that bum in jail, he doesn’t deserve a break.”
If we’re honest about it, it’s hard to imagine a loving God living in us, calling us children, and yet deliberately giving us something to suffer in order to test us or make us stronger. and If we’re really honest about it, the homeless and poor and those who have made bad choices are still children of God, and our brothers and sisters, and as such, we must be willing to love them and reach out as we’re able.
What Paul shares with us is that God is with every one of us through whatever happens in our human lives, whether we acknowledge God’s presence or not.
Thomas Keating, in his teachings on Centering Prayer says that God is present no matter what, and waits for us to say yes to that presence. God is a very patient and loving God.
Now we might be thinking that this all sounds too easy, that we don’t have to worry about anything but knowing God’s spirit is within us and we’re all set. But of course, we know better.
The wonderful symbolism found in Jacob’s dream in Genesis gives us a place to start thinking about our own responsibilities as children of God: “He dreamed that there was a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven; and behold, the angels of God were ascending and descending on it!”
What a wonderful dream! Jacob realized what a powerful message there was in that dream and so he set up a pillar – set up an altar – and gave it a name, Bethel, setting that place aside as holy and sacred.
Jacob received his own message from God in that dream - the promise of a family that would reach far and wide, even down through the generations. The promise of family was as important then as it is for us today.
All of us are offered a message in this reading this morning.
That ladder – the one connecting heaven and earth is there for us!
and - as those angels that were going up and down, connecting humanity to heaven, so we who say we are Jesus’ followers, must be like those angels. We must be people who play a part in connecting the world with heaven by the way we live our lives.
Now that sounds like work, and of course it is! Being human, and living in a very human world will have its hard days – lots of them – more, it seems, for some than for others. But, if we are serious about claiming to be Christian, then we must be willing to accept this angelic role.
What that means for us - is that which sounds like work - is actually our ministry. Each one of us has been given some special talent, some gift of personality or ability or resource that we can use to help others travel up and down that figurative ladder between heaven and earth.
Each and every one of us is called to be a messenger of God’s love to others.
That could show itself in many ways… it could be something like speaking to a homeless person, or treating a person like the loved child of God he or she is. For some, it’s doing missionary work. For others, it may be sharing a talent or resource, or offering hope to someone with problems. There are certainly millions of ways - and each way pleasing to God who dwells within us.
Hard work or easy, whatever our gift, whatever our own suffering may be, we can be sure we’re never alone. God’s promise to us comes to us all through the scripture - both the Old and New Testament, but the way it’s described in Jacob’s dream is one that we can hold onto: “Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done that of which I have spoken to you.”
We might look at that land God promises us as eternal life… Here God promises to be with us and keep us. God promises to stay with us until we are united with God in eternity. That’s a promise and a source of strength for us that’s as awesome as Jacob’s experience of God was for him.
We are all very fortunate because when someone asks us about our family, we can all say, “My family is all God’s people and we have God’s promise that we will never be alone.”
Some of the images and rhetoric in this sermon was taken from a sermon delivered by the Rev. Dr. Suzanna Metz, Director of Contextual Education; The University of the South – School of Theology.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Sunday, July 6, 2008
RCL Year A (Proper 9) - July 6, 2008
The Rev'd Kenneth H. Saunders III
Christ Episcopal Church
Cleveland, NC
RCL Year A (Proper 9) - July 6, 2008
Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67
Psalm 45: 11-18
Romans 7:15-25a
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
There was once a time when any of us going to a service of Holy Communion in an Episcopal Church might hear some of Jesus' words in today's Gospel.
"Come to me all who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." Or, in a slightly older form of the English language: "Come unto me all ye who travail and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you."
These words were spoken to us by the Celebrant, right after the Confession and Absolution, and – along with a few other well chosen sentences of Scripture – they were part of what were popularly called, in the tradition of the old Prayer Book, "The Comfortable Words." They were introduced by the celebrating priest with the invitation, "Hear what our Lord Jesus Christ saith to all that truly turn to him..."
A version of this is still provided in the Rite One Holy Eucharist of today's Book of Common Prayer. But those of us who are old enough, and have been Episcopalians long enough, remember that there was something quite wonderful about hearing those Comfortable Words at that particular point in the liturgy.
We had heard the Word of God proclaimed in the lectionary readings of Scripture, just as we do now; and we had heard the preacher's sermon. We responded to God's Word by asserting our faith in God's unbreakable covenant with us, the words of the Nicene Creed.
We had brought to God all the concerns for "the whole state of Christ's church and the world" in intercession and petition. Then, as now, we had confessed our manifold sins and wickedness, unburdening ourselves of our grief and guilt by acknowledging our disobedience and our failures of love towards God, our neighbors, and ourselves.
We heard the authoritative assurance of pardon to all those who humbly repented and firmly intended to amend our lives, that great declaration of forgiveness intended to raise us up from the dust and ashes of penitence and set us on our feet in joyful liberation and thanksgiving.
And then came the Comfortable Words, to strengthen us and give us courage: "Come unto me ..." They were the compass setting, re-orienting us once again towards the gracious God of our hope, the maker and sustainer of our renewed reconciliation and peace, the faithful source of never-ending love in our hearts and lives, the author of that new life in Christ which had been given us in Baptism and was still ours by God's merciful forgiveness.
Now we could affirm and acknowledge the peace of Christ coming into our personal and corporate life – and, refreshed by this, we turned to the Eucharistic offering of ourselves, our souls, and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy and living sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving.
In their Eucharistic context, the words of Jesus, "Come unto me all ye that travail and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you," were -- and still are – comforting and strengthening. But they resonate a bit differently here today in the context of Matthew's Gospel where, if we look at them more closely, they reveal to us what kind of comfort Jesus had in mind.
In this section of Matthew, Jesus is speaking as a teacher -- as he so often does. In fact, we can almost imagine Jesus as a second Moses, delivering the new Law under the same Covenant that Moses himself revealed. Here, Jesus is reassuring his disciples that the yoke of his teaching is easy, and burden of learning from him is light.
We need to realize that the rabbis of this period in history routinely referred to the responsibilities of living by God's Law as a "yoke" - as something people took on themselves to steer and guide them down God's paths in life.
And it seems to have been a common complaint, addressed above all to the scribes and Pharisees as interpreters of God's Law, that their teachings had become complicated and difficult to follow, a burden rather than a guide to holy living.
Those of us who enjoy putting stuff together and sometimes actually read the directions know that sometimes technical writers that publish the directions can turn something so simple into something so complicated and intimidating, that it would take a design engineer to interpret it.
The trouble with the Pharisees and their complicated interpretations of the Law was the same sort of problem: they had managed to make some basic guidelines very complex and intimidating.
Of course, by doing this they retained their professional authority and power, but they also managed to turn people away from holiness of life with God, just as a complex set of directions can send an average person to leave a project for another day or pay extra for professional assembly.
Throughout Matthew's Gospel, Jesus the teacher takes great issue with this: God has given his people basic guidelines for holy life, but the Pharisees have ended up making God's Law inaccessible and impossible to follow.
So Jesus assures his disciples that by learning God's Law his way, they will not be intimidated by complexity or burdened, and condemned to failure, by Pharisaical rules and regulations.
Jesus is returning to the simplicity of God's original Covenant and Law, to give them what they need to steer and guide their path easily, and by following Jesus' way they will find peace, rest, and refreshment.
By putting these Comfortable Words back into the context of Matthew's Gospel, we can see they have a depth that is not immediately obvious from their Eucharistic setting. The absolution and forgiveness which we have received as repentant sinners is neither conditional upon our ability to follow complicated instructions, nor is it a permissive wave of the hand of an overindulgent parent implying that our sins don't matter.
The Comfortable Words, "Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will refresh you," remind us that God's incomparable, compassionate forgiveness is a gift that releases us into life with God as responsible human beings who want to grow deeper in love and joyful obedience.
After all, we are called not only called to find peace, refreshment, and rest for ourselves… but also to live the kind of lives through which others, also find God's peace, God's refreshing grace, and the joy of placing their lives in God's hands.
Christ Episcopal Church
Cleveland, NC
RCL Year A (Proper 9) - July 6, 2008
Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67
Psalm 45: 11-18
Romans 7:15-25a
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
There was once a time when any of us going to a service of Holy Communion in an Episcopal Church might hear some of Jesus' words in today's Gospel.
"Come to me all who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." Or, in a slightly older form of the English language: "Come unto me all ye who travail and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you."
These words were spoken to us by the Celebrant, right after the Confession and Absolution, and – along with a few other well chosen sentences of Scripture – they were part of what were popularly called, in the tradition of the old Prayer Book, "The Comfortable Words." They were introduced by the celebrating priest with the invitation, "Hear what our Lord Jesus Christ saith to all that truly turn to him..."
A version of this is still provided in the Rite One Holy Eucharist of today's Book of Common Prayer. But those of us who are old enough, and have been Episcopalians long enough, remember that there was something quite wonderful about hearing those Comfortable Words at that particular point in the liturgy.
We had heard the Word of God proclaimed in the lectionary readings of Scripture, just as we do now; and we had heard the preacher's sermon. We responded to God's Word by asserting our faith in God's unbreakable covenant with us, the words of the Nicene Creed.
We had brought to God all the concerns for "the whole state of Christ's church and the world" in intercession and petition. Then, as now, we had confessed our manifold sins and wickedness, unburdening ourselves of our grief and guilt by acknowledging our disobedience and our failures of love towards God, our neighbors, and ourselves.
We heard the authoritative assurance of pardon to all those who humbly repented and firmly intended to amend our lives, that great declaration of forgiveness intended to raise us up from the dust and ashes of penitence and set us on our feet in joyful liberation and thanksgiving.
And then came the Comfortable Words, to strengthen us and give us courage: "Come unto me ..." They were the compass setting, re-orienting us once again towards the gracious God of our hope, the maker and sustainer of our renewed reconciliation and peace, the faithful source of never-ending love in our hearts and lives, the author of that new life in Christ which had been given us in Baptism and was still ours by God's merciful forgiveness.
Now we could affirm and acknowledge the peace of Christ coming into our personal and corporate life – and, refreshed by this, we turned to the Eucharistic offering of ourselves, our souls, and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy and living sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving.
In their Eucharistic context, the words of Jesus, "Come unto me all ye that travail and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you," were -- and still are – comforting and strengthening. But they resonate a bit differently here today in the context of Matthew's Gospel where, if we look at them more closely, they reveal to us what kind of comfort Jesus had in mind.
In this section of Matthew, Jesus is speaking as a teacher -- as he so often does. In fact, we can almost imagine Jesus as a second Moses, delivering the new Law under the same Covenant that Moses himself revealed. Here, Jesus is reassuring his disciples that the yoke of his teaching is easy, and burden of learning from him is light.
We need to realize that the rabbis of this period in history routinely referred to the responsibilities of living by God's Law as a "yoke" - as something people took on themselves to steer and guide them down God's paths in life.
And it seems to have been a common complaint, addressed above all to the scribes and Pharisees as interpreters of God's Law, that their teachings had become complicated and difficult to follow, a burden rather than a guide to holy living.
Those of us who enjoy putting stuff together and sometimes actually read the directions know that sometimes technical writers that publish the directions can turn something so simple into something so complicated and intimidating, that it would take a design engineer to interpret it.
The trouble with the Pharisees and their complicated interpretations of the Law was the same sort of problem: they had managed to make some basic guidelines very complex and intimidating.
Of course, by doing this they retained their professional authority and power, but they also managed to turn people away from holiness of life with God, just as a complex set of directions can send an average person to leave a project for another day or pay extra for professional assembly.
Throughout Matthew's Gospel, Jesus the teacher takes great issue with this: God has given his people basic guidelines for holy life, but the Pharisees have ended up making God's Law inaccessible and impossible to follow.
So Jesus assures his disciples that by learning God's Law his way, they will not be intimidated by complexity or burdened, and condemned to failure, by Pharisaical rules and regulations.
Jesus is returning to the simplicity of God's original Covenant and Law, to give them what they need to steer and guide their path easily, and by following Jesus' way they will find peace, rest, and refreshment.
By putting these Comfortable Words back into the context of Matthew's Gospel, we can see they have a depth that is not immediately obvious from their Eucharistic setting. The absolution and forgiveness which we have received as repentant sinners is neither conditional upon our ability to follow complicated instructions, nor is it a permissive wave of the hand of an overindulgent parent implying that our sins don't matter.
The Comfortable Words, "Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will refresh you," remind us that God's incomparable, compassionate forgiveness is a gift that releases us into life with God as responsible human beings who want to grow deeper in love and joyful obedience.
After all, we are called not only called to find peace, refreshment, and rest for ourselves… but also to live the kind of lives through which others, also find God's peace, God's refreshing grace, and the joy of placing their lives in God's hands.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)