Vulnerability and Hope

Vulnerability and Hope

          Consider those surrounding Jesus, hearing his words of Good News, and also experiencing the Good News. These folk, who he describes as Sheep without a Shepherd, Feral Sheep, I suppose… they are in desperate need of him, for they are harassed and helpless.

          Consider those whom Jesus sends the 12 disciples out to, out to cure and cleanse, cast out demons and raise the dead… all these maladies that would stigmatize them as outsiders, that would keep them from the Kingdom of God, keep them from the sheepfold, at least the way religion of the day (and perhaps of every era) would tell it, those whom Jesus calls lost sheep, folk alienated from the kingdom and lacking peace.

          Consider, too, the disciples, sent as Sheep among wolves. These men of a variety of backgrounds
—Zealots opposed to Roman rule and Tax Collectors collaborating with Rome
—whatever their previous identity, gets stripped away, as they go away in their common task…
trusting that what they have is enough
—becoming something else, no longer tax collector or fisherman, but followers of Jesus.
This new way of being, forms them into Disciples! Hurt, hated, betrayed, and killed, for Christ’s sake,
for the sake of the Good News,
for the sake of those to whom they are sent by Jesus.

          Endangered sheep, alienated sheep, desperate feral sheep… this image, this metaphor, sheep, points to vulnerability… they are vulnerable.

Prayer

 

          Vulnerable—We’re vulnerable when we admit we don’t know something, or that we got something wrong. Embarrassing isn’t it?
          You’re vulnerable when you go against a group or against the grain, it usually costs you. Hung out to dry.
           Vulnerable when you lose a part of your identity…
your identity as an employed person,
or a well person,
or a valued citizen of your community…
vulnerable…

          Perhaps humans are more vulnerable than the sheep of metaphor….
Think about it, sheep don’t require years of being raised into adulthood.
Sheep never have a first day of school.
Sheep never write love letters….
Yes, from our first breath to our last breath, humans are vulnerable…

          Our last breath…
vulnerable…
right now black people in this country, along with people of goodwill of all sorts, are lamenting the particular vulnerability of black life in America.
In fact, this Wednesday the ELCA will be commemorating the Charleston 9
—vulnerable in their own church,
killed at a bible study 5 years ago.

 

          Vulnerable too, to this virus. In fact, in this morbidly information rich world of ours you can calculate out roughly how likely you are to die if you get infected with Covid19, based on age, sex, race, and underlying medical conditions
—vulnerability laid out in callous percentages.

          Here at St. Stephen—vulnerable.
The commonly used tools that build up the faith, absent, or at least mediated by screens…
perhaps we can newly sympathize with the struggles of those sent Disciples,
they lacked staff and sandals, a change of clothing and coin in their pocket
—we are trying on a new type of Christian Identity
—we’re all now individual house churches,
dispersed and struggling to pay attention when together through screens
and courageously taking greater individual responsibility for our life in Christ.

 

          Vulnerable… yet there is something about vulnerability
—so often, it goes hand and hand with hope!
Vulnerability and hope.

          At our last Pub Theology we did a broad study of what the Bible says about Hope,
and noticed quickly a strange connection between vulnerability and hope
—that within times of distress and suffering,
the Spirit and hope find a home.

          “We boast also in our sufferings,” writes Paul,
“knowing that suffering produces patience, which produces a proven character, and such a character produces hope…
because God’s love has poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us…”

          “While we were weak,” he continues, “Ungodly, sinners…”
In all of our vulnerability
—there is Christ, he died for us!”

          Vulnerability and hope.

          For us, we distracted, dispersed Christians,
our identities shifting and slipping,
in neutral,
life idling
—for us.

          For this nation,
virus laden and on our back foot,
in denial even as ¼ of the global infections and deaths are our own…
for us!

          For every black life,
in the everyday and in the struggle,
there is Spirit and Hope!
He is among you!
For us!

          Vulnerability and hope.

          For us from first breath to last,
 the Spirit there,
especially in those vulnerable moments
—hope.

          In times of transition, Spirit!

          When you go against the grain and it is so rough, God is already there!

          In moments when you come up short, God is still there!

          Endangered, alienated, desperate
—feral sheep, lost sheep, sent sheep
—the Good Shepherd meets our vulnerability in hope.

A+A

The Spirit will not be barred.

            Eight some years ago, when I first became Pastor of St. Stephen, someone pointed to the looming metal door to my office, and told me:
            “Having a firm door was part of the plan after the 1967 riots where a South Plainfield policeman was murdered. If Black Panthers took over the worship service,” I was told, “the plan was for the Pastor to escape and barricade himself in his office and call the police… with things the way they are these days… shouldn’t we maybe think of doing that again pastor?”

“What have I gotten myself into?” I wondered.
“What kind of place is South Plainfield, and what kind of people have called me?” I wondered.
“By taking this call have I betrayed the people of Tabernacle in West Philly and St. John’s in North West Baltimore? Who showed me, as a Seminary Student, more kindness and patience than I deserved?”

            I shouldn’t have worried—the Spirit takes the strangest combinations and makes them combust into grand powers we would never expect.

            Several years later, there were pulpit swaps between Cross of Life and St. Stephen. I remember one Parishioner saying, “If you’d told me ten years ago there would be a black gay man in St. Stephen’s pulpit, and I’d like it, I’d never have believed you!”

            Later still, whole congregations crossed that invisible line between South Plainfield and Plainfield. Several of you told me you’d not transgressed that boundary line since 1967.

            Later still, we mourned with Cross of Life at its closing, and became a place for many of their members
—our members now
—to be a part, to assume leadership positions on council and beyond.
Sunday may be the most racially segregated day of the week
—but not here!
Not at St. Stephen.

            I don’t recount this series of fortunate events to toot any horns, but instead to state unequivocally that
Jesus doesn’t do doors
—the Spirit will not be barred.

            Prayer

            These two stories of Pentecost in John and Acts seem familiar…
yes of course we read Acts 2 every year—the poor Lector has to cut their teeth on Cappadocia and Phrygia… every year…

            But, I think it is familiar too, because it appraises and parallels our present reality,
pointing out the continuities and discontinuities between our Story and the Spirit’s Story.

             In that way, Pentecost is timeless and timely.

            Listen to Acts
—violent wind and fire, the Spirit turning the whole world upside down. “blood, fire, smoky mist—the sun dark, the moon blood.”

            Hasn’t it felt like…
since the fires in Australia at the start of this year (or maybe even years before)
we’ve been in some sort of upside down, rickety and condemned,
roller coaster version of the world?

            By way of example, the fires and smoke in Minneapolis and around the country
—clouds of indiscriminate pepper spray,
a police station torched,
reporters arrested and shot with pepper bullets,
my cousin’s corner pharmacy…
she went in it on Wednesday,
 it was burnt down by Friday.

            Do we not get a whiff of what Peter is pointing to?

            In Acts, the Spirit speaks the Gospel in every language,
the Spirit, as Peter explains, will be poured out on all flesh…
not some flesh, all flesh.
Pentecost is the reversing of Babel
—because of the Spirit’s work of reconciliation among and between all people,
we can all come together,
all understand each other,
all be one…

            Yet, that reconciliation seems so far off.

So far off, when Ahmaud (A-mod) Arbery was executed by self-styled vigilantes while jogging in Georgia. 

So far off, because Breonna Taylor was killed while waking up in Kentucky. 

So far off, when Dreasjon Reed—shot 8 times in Indiana.

So far off, ‘cause of Christian Cooper’s close call in Central Park. So far off…

            The reconciled reality that the Spirit is bringing, seems so far off, because our society acts like the lives of Black Folk don’t matter, but Black Lives do Matter!

            

            And then in John’s Gospel… from Jesus’ lips the Holy Spirit surely given,
given that we might have true peace…
the breath of God on offer…

            Breath offered as George Floyd echoes Eric Garner before him,
“I can’t breathe!” Begging for his life while it is squeezed out of him for all to see in Minnesota.
“I can’t breathe!”

            Breath offered as the Corona Virus fills the lungs of so many with fluid until they gasp for breath,
until, even,
they expire.

            Breath offered through mask shielding and mourning clothe.

            The breath, the Spirit!
Holy Spirit come with peace!
Peace, as Scriptures makes abundantly clear, not as the world gives…
for there will be those who shout “peace peace” and there is no peace…

            The Spirit’s Peace
shows the pierced side and wounded hands,
on the other side of execution.

            The Spirit’s Peace is intertwined
—Father to Son and Son to his Beloved Community
—intertwined in the mission,
our mission,
to redeem the whole world.

            

            Finally, doors locked for fear
—at least that one feels familiar.
Jesus “enters in and stands among them” even when they’re afraid…
and does the same for us.

            Afraid of a virus that takes our most vulnerable, and then surprises us with its greed and appetite, taking still more. The Spirit will not be barred.

            Afraid that our community will fray and fall away if we continue to keep everyone safe by gathering for worship in a dispersed and remote manner.
Jesus doesn’t do doors.

            Afraid of our neighbors who are different from us in one way or another
—afraid that the drum beat of tribe and race will drown out the possibility of friendship and connection and respect.
The Spirit will not be barred.

            Afraid that the heavy weight of history and the rotten fragrance of prejudice and hatred will shape our encounters with police, and store clerks, and doctors, and others we wish we could trust.
Jesus doesn’t do doors.

            I have to believe the Spirit that took that barrier (that blast-door) of an office door, and all that goes with it, and is transforming us into this new community…

I have to believe that the Spirit Jesus breathed upon the Disciples, and every generation of disciples after them…

I have to believe the Holy Spirit that spoke in Jerusalem and was spoken of by the Prophet Joel.

            I have to believe that Spirit will work in unexpected ways to turn this world upside down, bringing about healing and justice.

            Will breath life into folk who cannot breathe, and courage and will into all who can do something about it.

            Will rebuild areas threatened with death, into communities of new life.

            Will bring true peace, a peace that faces the world as it is and as it ought to be, and as it shall be.

            I have to believe that Jesus doesn’t do doors and that the Spirit will not be barred.

A+A

Reopening a Congregation Responsibly Part 2: Some things to think about

So, about a month ago I tried to synthesize some of the opening plans floating out there. At the time the whole exercise was somewhat abstract. Fast forward to today, I have seven concrete concerns about re-opening.

-We ARE in the middle of a Pandemic.

I’m very bearish about any rush to meet in person. I know many regions of the country are almost untouched, but that’s not my experience. In my little borough, South Plainfield, we’ve had more deaths than all of Slovakia and currently have more people sick than Madagascar. We’re in the epicenter of a pandemic.

Folk who had the virus, or are currently infected, will tell you it isn’t a joke; even moderate infections can leave a mark. A month in, some folk still have no appetite and can barely walk around the block, others are still bedridden 8 weeks in, still others are on ventilators, and, of course, some are dead.

If gathering together is dangerous, especially for people over 65 and people with heart conditions and people with diabetes, gathering a group of people mainly made up of those folk, is a bad idea. And here’s the thing, humans are bad at assessing risk, especially when it is sunny out and the enemy is invisible. High-risk parishioners will show up once you open up, even if you tell them not to.

-In person worship will be categorically different.

Worship in person won’t be worship in person. People kept telling me this, and I didn’t believe them, until I experienced it myself; I was in the middle of doing a graveside commendation when it hit home. Staying six feet away, everyone in masks so you can’t see facial expressions, saying the familiar words, but with so many barriers—it was a commendation, but different, not a degree or two different, but a whole different kind of commendation.

So too worship in person. Worshiping without: singing, communion, offering, peace, greeting, bulletins, and fellowship hour, is not going to be different than normal worship by a degree, but instead will be a different kind of worship. I think our current online worship is closer to “normal” worship than what we’ll experience when we first return to in person worship. That’s going to be a problem; people will push for something more “normal”.

-People will always want more.

That brings me to my third point. There is the “If you give a mouse a cookie” principle. Whatever actions we take will be almost impossible to undo. On top of that people are going to push for more, especially when they find in person worship to basically be a 15 minute prayer meeting where they can’t touch or talk. If you invite 25 people onto the Church’s front lawn, you’ll likely have 50 people in the sanctuary without social distancing, rather quickly; we have to be very careful how we remove the boundaries we set up.

-How will you enforce the rules?

I am skeptical about a congregation’s ability to enforce rules. Let’s be real, there are going to be people doing (hopefully unintentionally) dangerous things, and we all want to be a nice community that loves everyone and is inclusive.

So, what happens when the 26th person shows up on our front lawn and the law only allows for 25? Is the usher going to tell them they have to go? What do we do when a developmentally disabled person decides it is time to pass the peace and their compulsion is to do things the same every time, even though we’re not passing the peace? What happens when a church member decides to “be funny” and starts shaking hands or fake coughing on people?

-Bathrooms.

Bathrooms are a big barrier. Here in New Jersey some churches went to a “drive-in” church model. Churches were not supposed to let anyone into the building, no matter what, including going to the bathroom. I can’t imagine that worked out well.

In general, public bathrooms have been a hard thing to figure out for spaces that have them. How do you make sure only one person enters the bathroom at a time? How do we clean surfaces after every use? For that matter, how do we vent the bathroom in such a way that someone can go in afterwards and not risk sucking down tiny virus droplets into their lungs from the other folk who’ve used the restroom?

-Insurance Companies.

Before you open make sure you’ve talk with your insurance company. If you don’t follow their recommendations (most companies simply ask for a formal action plan and compliance with state laws) you might lose your insurance!

-Fatigue.

So, one of my initial impulses with this whole thing was a phased re-open with everything changing every 2 weeks. Maybe there are Pastors out there who can roll with the punches that well, but I am not one of them. It took two months of experimentation and a lot of extra work to get livestream working moderately well. Just the idea of flipping to a whole new model while still maintaining the same level of online presence, and then doing that again a few more times in rapid succession, is exhausting! 

Why and what are the consequences?

The two big questions we’ll have to ask about all in person gatherings, whenever we do that, are Why? and What are the consequences?

-Why? 

Is it because a secular authority has said we can? Is it because we want to get back to normal? Is it to be near people praying for a little bit? Is it to serve our neighbor?

-What are the consequences? 

What will happen to the 26th person who arrive in worship? the person with a compromised immune system? the usher who has to boot her best friend from church? the parishioner who accidentally kills one of us and puts two more in the hospital because they thought they just had allergies?

Bear Witness to the Resurrection!

Bear Witness to the Resurrection!

          Bear witness!

 

          The Empty tomb—Messengers from God gleam,
witnessing to the women,
“He is risen!”

          More powerful still, our Risen Lord Jesus himself orders them, “Go to my siblings, tell them that you have seen the Lord!”

          The women see and tell! “I have seen the Lord!”

          “Our Lord, who was dead, lives! He called us by name and comforted us in our sorrow as it was transformed to blinding joy, and he is risen from the dead!”

          To this witness, as we know, the Disciples say, “Nonsense!”

          Nonsense… until they kneel at the tomb’s entrance, and then they know what the women told them is true!
They move from disbelief,
to cognitive assent,
to experiential knowledge
—He is risen!

 

          Along the road—glum believers walk away, away to Emmaus.

          They do not yet know the enlightening weight of the words, “where two or three gather—Christ is present.”

          Present too, as they explore scripture with him who is the very Word of God. Hearing scripture from him,
letting it point to him,
being witnessed to, by Christ himself!

          Inviting him in
—entertaining the Messiah at their home in Emmaus
—their eyes opened,
“It is him, the one whom we had hoped would redeem Israel—those women had said he was risen! And indeed, he is risen!

          And off they go, returning to the others in Jerusalem, sharing their story as other such resurrection stories are shared with them—they, the whole group of them, are called to be witnesses, “The Lord really has risen!”

 

          Thomas though, does not trust their witness.

          Thomas, who left the building when all others hid there, had missed the most magnificent news
—he is still in a pre-Easter place, among a multitude of witnesses on the other side of the tomb. Imagine how alienating that must have been!

          He needs to see resurrection. He needs to feel resurrection! Like Cleopas and the bread…

He needs Easter to be true for him, not in words alone, but in deeds as well.

          He needs to see the failure of the nail to hold him down.

          He needs to feel Christ’s side, feel that the spear was not the end of him.

          And he does! He has one of the most intimate experiences of the Resurrection, save perhaps Lazarus’ odd parallel—he meet the risen Christ—sees and touches the Risen Christ, and responds in confession: “My Lord and My God!”

 

          Peter then, at breakfast, meets again our Lord, meets for a meal of bread and fish, in abundance
—perhaps every meal with Jesus is a feast!
There he enters deeper still into his confession, “He is risen!”

          The resurrection life, that our Lord reveals, repeated three times for emphasis, “Feed my lambs, tend my sheep, feed my sheep.”

In this resurrection life we’ve been grafted into love of Jesus is identical to care for his Sheep.
Love the Lord, Love his Lambs.

          “Follow me,” Jesus says, for our whole lives ought to be a witness, ought to say, “He is risen.”

 

          At his Ascension, the end of his Easter sojourns and instructions to the apostles…

          Jesus names it all clearly one more time:

          Scripture, testifies to him.

          His suffering, his death, his resurrection, testifies to him.

          Repentance and forgiveness of sin, testifies to him.

          And we in turn are called to witness, testify,
confess with lips and with life,
that he is risen.

 

          The Good News was completed in him, in today’s readings we can literally see the Gospel of Luke end and it’s sequel, the Acts of the Apostles, begin… Turning the page, a new chapter, a new book… The good news was completed in him even as we continually point to it in this new chapter of life with God.
Witness to the Gospel of Jesus.

          God reigns on earth as in heaven… while the Disciples in Acts get their Kingdoms confused and look for the restoration of Israel, instead of the Reign of God
—we know that we encountered the Kingdom of Heaven whenever Jesus comes near
—and so we continually call people to nestle near him—like a hen with her brood of chicks.
Witness to the Reign of God!

          This blessing Christ gives at the end of Luke, and the funny prompting of the Angels at the start of Acts, “Why ya’ll lookin’ up?” both point to the calling of every Christian—the whole church—to, in our whole lives, mirror the Messiah, to be little Christs to our neighbor.

Witness to Our Savior.

 

Bear witness! A+A.

Pandemic: COVID19 Edition

Pandemic: COVID19 Edition

            Hi all. In the midst of the current global pandemic, I thought I would offer a little catharsis—a variant of/add on to the board game Pandemic.

            The main differences come:

-In the set up stage.

-Restricting the first three turns.

-And the addition of COVID19 World Event Cards that reflect actual news reports. 

Click here to download the word document with the game varients.

Enjoy!

Ares’ Hill in the era of Pandemic

Ares’ Hill in the era of Pandemic

 

          The Areopogas, Ares’ Hill, was named for the famous first trial in Greek Mythology. Ares the god of war, murdered the son of Poseidon, the god of the sea, and was put on trial and acquitted… found innocent on Ares Hill.

          Ares’ Hill, was a place bursting with new ideas both high brow and low, filled with idols on every corner—Idols and idle chatter—people trying to figure out what it means to be human in that particular time and place…

          There, on Ares’ Hill, that’s where Paul found himself preaching!

          And so, today, I would like to preach on a subject I’ve preach on in the past, but this time with a new twist: “Preaching on Ares’ Hill, in the era of Pandemic…
Ares’ Hill in the era of Pandemic.

Prayer

          Preaching on Ares’ Hill, in the era of Pandemic.

          Paul… being Paul… has stirred up all kinds of trouble for himself in Northern Greece, and was whisked away to Athens to lay low for a while…

          But Paul… being Paul… didn’t lay low. He saw the Idols lining the streets of Athens and starts to argue with the various Greek Philosophers who commonly lined the streets of Athens.

          And just like that these Philosophers drag Paul up Ares’ Hill in order to, “Find out what all these words he is sewing mean.”

          And there, on Ares’ Hill, he begins his defense with a compliment (though perhaps a backhanded one):
“I see you are a very religious people.”

          He looks at those idols, the fast paced flinging of ideas, a people who gravitate and grab at anything new, and sees it for what it is, people yearning for, and reaching for, and sometimes even finding, their Creator.

          With this in mind, he attempts to make the Gospel relevant to them.

          He knows them, and knows their culture, or at least takes a stab at it. He alludes to E-Pikt-etus and Euripides, and quotes directly the stoic philosopher Aratus—he even compliments their pagan statues and altars!

 

          And these days, in the era of Pandemic, I can imagine he would try for a similar relevancy:

          “I see you are in worship now—even as you miss and yearn and grasp for the holy ground of normalcy.

          Please be grounded in the God breathed promise: “He lives not in temples hewn by human hands” but is Creator of all that is, seen and unseen.
Sacred is the moment you meet in person,
sacred when you see this service from a screen,
sacred too the green grass, and dining room table,
and family and fellowships both far and near.

          In this time of questioning—in this time when there is so much unknown,” he continues.
“Know that there is One who was, is, and will be
who seeks you always and
has known and always will know you!
In Him our many question marks
may become exclamation points!

          As that well worn phrase states: “I may not know what the future holds, but I know who holds the future.”

 

          You see, when Paul preaches on Ares’ Hill, he builds a bridge between his listener and his message, he makes sure they can cross over to hear what he’s saying.

          But not only that, he takes the idols of his age, and refashions them… Imagine that… he doesn’t smash ‘em, instead he shows them to be what they are… he redeems them!

          He says: “This value you have, you’ve made into a god… well it’s just part of God’s creation, and as such is good, just not The Good, not The Creator.

          So too, today, Paul takes those things we fear, love and trust into, those things we’ve enthroned and deified, and places them where they belong.

 

          Friends, I hear the cracking in your voice—social distancing has become social isolation…

          Please know you are not alone, never alone!
God is as close to you as your breath…
for that matter did you know
Christ, our Lord, on the cross,
cried with the same tempo and tenor as you:
“Why have you forgotten me?”
and yet, that psalm he quotes ends,
“They will proclaim God’s righteousness to those not yet born,
telling them what God has done.”

 

          I hear so many of you end your phone calls, not with goodbye, but “Keep safe.”
A watch word for many, as we Purell,
wash our hands for 20 seconds,
live behind masks
get used to plexi-glass shielding
in the grocery stores
all to the good, to be clear.

          But in this goodness, do not forget its origin.

          All these things that sustain us,
all that is necessary and nourishing for body, mind, and soul,
it is the daily bread that comes from our Father in Heaven.

          With all our precautions, may we still see it all as a precious gift from God.

 

          “Liberate!”
is the word to which some of you adhere.
Do not, friends, let liberty become license…
Do not mistake “Freedom From” with “Freedom For.”
We are, as Luther writes, “Slaves to none AND Servants to all.”

We’re freed FOR love of neighbor.
Jesus insists neighbor and mercy and wrapped up so tight you can’t tell them apart.
          If it is true that we are all one blood, then we have so many neighbors!
          Libertarian philosophers rightly state: “my neighbor’s liberty ends where my nose begins.”
          At this moment it just so happens, that nose needs six feet of distance and to be kept covered.

 

          Finally, there are many worried about the economy…
          You are not worried on account of percentages of GDP or Unemployment Rates, but instead for what they represent—these percentages point to people!

          People, who are made in the image of God and need to be treated as such… people who need dignity and routine and livelihood.

          Yes, people—
for surely the root of this word, Economy,
points to its true end—the Oikos…
          No Oikos isn’t just a brand of yogurt, no it means Household and family…
          Economy is about care of family, households of all types, or it is about nothing.

          And let me tell you, the Economy of the City of God includes you
—you dear friend are part of the family of God
—truly, you are a Child of God!
All of you!

 

          Yes, when Paul preaches on Ares’ Hill he changes the Idols of Athens into an affirmation that:
God is a whisker’s-length away,
that in God and God alone,
“We live and move and have our being.”

          Yes, there on Ares’ Hill he preaches, and there, on Ares’ Hill…
Having built a bridge to the yearnings of Athens,
Having relativized the Idols,
Having pointed to the God and Parent of us all…

          After all that, he points back to that other god, who haunts the hill.
He points to the trial of Ares;
Ares was found justified in the killing of Posieden’s son,
was judged innocent there.

          And then Paul preaches about another Judge,
the one who was innocent
and yet was killed.
          Another judgement,
Jesus found guilty
and among sinners,
yet holy and innocent,
dying and rising for sinners.
          The Judge who sees all our idols
—the Pantheon of false gods we worship
—and favors us anyway!
          His judgment acquits us of Sin and reconciles us to God and neighbor.
          Jesus Christ, or Lord and God, crucified and risen!

A+A

Where do I find God?

Where do I find God?

         

         As many of us reach a point where being cut of from people and removed from routines and separated from places of comfort, becomes truly heavy. As deaths & sickness from the Corona Virus continue to mount. 

         It is fair to ask of ourselves a simple question:
Where do I find God?

Prayer

Where do I find God?

         In the building itself? Here at Church?
         After all, in normal times don’t we gather in this space to connect with God?
Surely we do!
Sacred space is something you can feel—sacred space is the thin place between heaven and earth,
Where unique holy events have happened and it has become a place for pilgrims,

Or where ongoing ritual has dug, through repetition and time, a well that can be plumbed for generations…
A space where a holy community rubs their messy faith into the ground that then becomes Holy…

         Yet of course, we have heard the words of St. Stephen—God does not abide in buildings… His home isn’t hewn by human hands…

         The building itself, at best, points to God’s Holy doings.

Where do I find God?

         Perhaps it is the people! There is a blessedness to gathering together, the Spirit uses us to unexpected ends, where two or three are gathered, there is God.

         For that matter, look at the witness of this Congregation’s namesake, St. Stephen. He is arguably the first saint, the first Holy One—definitely the first Christian martyr.

         Stephen starts as a Deacon, sent by the Apostles to feed the widows and orphans
—and soon enough the Spirit takes him on to another task, and he starts preaching the Gospel like an Apostle…
This is the ongoing story of the Book of Acts, every time the Church settles on something, the Spirit unsettles us and prods us onward…
In this case this prodding leads Stephen to court, and he has to defend himself before the Temple Authorities.
There he preaches the longest sermon in Acts, telling the whole tale of God in order to point to what God is doing among the earliest Christians
—and more than his sermon, his death and last words, point to Jesus
—his death parallels his Lord’s.
“Receive my Spirit! Forgive them!”
Last words nearly identical to Jesus’ words from the cross…

         Surely God is among and within the Church and individual Christians, but the Church is pointing, as Stephen points, to Jesus. Pointing to Jesus even as God calls us, gathers us, and sends us. Pointing to Jesus.

Where do I find God?

         In Jesus?
Well yes…
         At the start of John’s Gospel it is stated, “No one has ever seen God…but God the only son who abides with the Father has made God known.” 
This statement finally comes to fruition in Jesus’ words to Philip, “How can you say ‘show us the father’ you’ve seen me, and thus you’ve seen him. If you’ve known me you’ve known the Father.”
Jesus is the invisible God made visible.

         Think of it—we’ve built up all kinds of hang-ups about God, everything from bad experiences with authority figures
to awful church experiences
to natural disasters being called, “acts of God”
to our own selfish ambitions and insensitive cultural traditions… 
All of those things imprint upon us images of God
—all of them shape what we seek when we seek the Lord,
shape how we treat other humans and other creatures on account of who and what we see when we say we see God…

         And all these other images melt away before the face of Jesus.

         You want to see the LORD… gaze upon God? …
-Look then at that one who’s only command is Love,
who washes his disciples feet,
who heals and feeds
and who was the life of the party at that wedding at Cana…
-Look at him arrested in the garden,
betrayed and denied,
mocked and crucified.
-Look too, at the one who calls Mary by name,
reveals himself to Thomas,
eats breakfast on the seashore
and links love of him to the feeding and care of the flock.

         Through him, we know the Father… for he has prepared a place for us…

         Or so it says in most translations
—but there is a danger that we take this heavenly promise, make it a building, and end back at the beginning, the start of the sermon… Is God found in a heavenly home, a blissful building?

         No, this Son of God, through whom we can see the Father
—he goes to make Abiding places…
to Abide
—to be as close to another as a heartbeat,
to lay upon the chest,
a baby upon the breast of her mother… 

that is the kind of intimacy with God that Jesus is talking about.

         The disciples are worried, they have just learned that their fellowship is crumbling
—Judas will betray,
Peter will deny,
Jesus’ words are a farewell address…

         This is very real distress! And Jesus responds: 

“I go to prepare a place for you—there is plenty of space for intimate kindness in my father’s household.”

         Or breaking it down a little more:
“There is plenty of room for relationship in God’s family.”

         You are a Child of God!

         This piece of Scripture is a favorite at funerals, and you can see why; what a promise! Christ abides with the Father and we abide with Christ.

Where do I find God?

         In the face of death, “Fear not, you abide with God.”

         In the face of this separation from other people we’re currently experiencing, “Abide.”

         In the face of dislocation from familiar places and routines, “Abide.” 

A+A

People die all the time

People die all the time

A few days back it was like
someone flipped a cruel yellow switch.

Everyone started saying, “People die all the time.”

I think it was right after we passed
the Vietnam War casualty mark.

Perhaps that was triggering?

The Pandemic needed to be
made into a Kulture Kampf

America can’t understand
or control
the Virus,
but a good ol’ fashioned 

Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Culture War;

America was made for one those!

And so the rallying cry:

People die all the time

It’s the flu, people die all the time

Only vulnerable people die all the time

We want haircuts… people die all the time

It is a Chinese conspiracy and people die all the time

It just kills the old and the weak; people die all the time

The doctors and nurses are faking it, people die all the time

“How do we know they didn’t die of underlying medical conditions? 

“After all, people die all the time.”

Here’s the thing, they’re dead right

A parishioner watched his elderly neighbor’s corpse removed by cops after a wellness check.
“People die all the time.”

South of us the funeral director did two and a half years worth of funerals in a month.
“People die all the time.”

They say 2 people a day die on average at the local hospital, 70 a day this April.
“People die all the time.”

Our crematorium is now two weeks behind schedule and

one county north of us, they’re backed up by five weeks.
“People die all the time.”

My wife has a compromised immune system

and I have a congenital heart condition…
people die all the time

And yet we want to live.