Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 17B

14th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 17B August 29, 2021 When I worked at Stewpot, an inner city non-profit, between college and seminary, I came across many unusual characters on a daily basis. One of these was a man named Mr. Long. Mr. Long probably had the mental capacity of a young child, and he would leave his personal care home to wander the streets of Jackson until he found his way to Stewpot and joined the morning enrichment program I was running to give folks like a him a safe and entertaining place to be every day. Mr. Long, never really called many of us by name, but instead, he liked to greet everyone by saying, “You so choot!” (translated “you are so cute!”) Well, my 25 year old self was mortified by this salutation, and so I set out to teach Mr. Long my name. My project spread out over weeks, and every day, it went something like this. Mr. Long: “You so choot!” Me: “What’s my name, Mr. Long?” Him: “I don’t know.” Me: “Melanie.” Him: “Merlin” Me: “Close enough.” Day after day, I taught my lesson until one day, it happened. I entered the dining area where Mr. Long sat, and he greeted me saying, “Hey, Merlin! You so choot!” Mr. Long also had another regular saying that he would share as the Spirit moved him. He would often say, “You can’t fool God.” You can’t fool God. This is at the heart of what Jesus is teaching in our gospel reading for today. The Pharisees have come to Jesus and asked why his disciples aren’t following the law around washing things. Jesus aligns himself with the prophetic tradition by quoting Isaiah and saying that the Pharisees are so worried about the law that they have lost sight of the spirit of what God has intended for each of us. In the part left out for today, Jesus talks about a loophole that some religious leaders of the day have discovered that allows them to give money to the temple and not have to use their money to care for their elderly family members as the law also instructs. And then Jesus goes on to teach the crowds that we should be more worried about what evil intentions are coming out of us into the world as opposed to what evil we might be taking in from the world around us. The Pray as You Go podcast for today says it this way: “Jesus takes the Pharisees’ notion of ‘defilement’ and turns it inside out. Instead of it being a word you might use self-righteously to mean being ‘sullied’ by unholy people and unholy things around me, it becomes a check on myself, a warning not to defile yourself by allowing evil to enter the world through you. How do you react to that warning?”i In this polarized world that we live in, it is so easy to try to fool myself and fool God by thinking that my cause (and here you can name any number of current event items of the day) is the one that is righteous and the other is bringing evil into the world. This week, I’ve been pondering what it would mean to examine more frequently the things that come out of me that add evil to this world and how to hold that alongside not judging others who believe differently than me. And let me tell you, it is hard for me to even imagine what that might look like. But then I read and opinion piece from an E.R. nurse in Kansas City that she wrote for the local paper. It is titled: “I work in a Kansas City emergency room. I know who’s to blame for COVID frustration.” Here is what she writes, “COVID-19 is something we are still learning about. We health care workers are trying to perfect how we respond to it and make people as safe as possible. I’m not angry at those who aren’t yet vaccinated, and I’m not angry at those who have put so much faith into the vaccine. Who and what bothers me … Is the person in the hospital lobby coughing, trying to refuse wearing a mask because “I don’t have COVID. I was tested thre months ago.” (And new test results come back in 30 minutes revealing that the patient is, indeed, positive.) And the person who says, “If they aren’t vaccinated, they might as well just die. They’re stupid.” There is so much attitude of superiority on both extremist sides. I’m not innocent. I’ve caught myself being quite judgmental as well on certain days when traffic in the emergency room is heavy. Then, I sometimes find myself speaking more negativity into the environment than is even close to being helpful. The enemy isn’t those who are pro-vaccine. The enemy isn’t those who haven’t yet gotten it. The enemy is COVID-19, and those who don’t care or just don’t understand are to be pitied. Not hated or despised. I understand the frustration of those who are anti-vaccine and those who are pro-vaccine. Both sides’ anger and exasperation come from fear and exhaustion. And maybe even from PTSD. The important thing is to keep an open mind, to continue to do research and maintain a humble attitude that acknowledges there are things we are still learning about COVID-19, and, I hope, will continue to learn. Maintain a hunger for more understanding, for new information. Maintain compassion for the fact that so many people are utterly terrified and have suffered loss. Maintain sympathy for those who are around COVID 24/7 and may be a wee bit grumpy at times. Maintain humility that says, “I’m not sure I have all the answers, but I will try not to spread the virus personally. And I will do my best to help in this season.” I do feel blessed to still be alive, breathing without effort and walking around outside in the sunshine. My disorganized self left my apartment so spick-and-span for the whole first part of the pandemic, just in case I died and my family had to come get my stuff. (I can’t say the same for its current state. I’m not that dedicated long- term, although I should be.) I’m not saying I couldn’t still suffer a tragedy because of COVID-19 — anything is possible. And I realize that, and appreciate every day every moment that I do have. Every day is a gift, a gift that isn’t really even deserved, to be honest. I’m not a “hero” for working with COVID patients. I’m lucky to have a job, grateful to have enough masks to wear a new one daily, and thankful to be close to equipment that could possibly help me should I ever become sick and need it. I’m going to work on checking my attitude more often. Because, as I said, I am very guilty of being crotchety about all of this. I’m pointing the finger at myself, first. That is all.”ii Your invitation this week is to join me in examining the thoughts that come out of my heart for evil, self-righteousness, or hardness of heart and to ask God to help me from letting more evil escape from me into the world. Because, like Mr. Long says, “You can’t fool God.” i. https://pray-as-you-go.org/player/prayer/2021-08-29 ii. By Tasha Miller. Originally printed in the Kansas City Star. https://news.yahoo.com/kansas-city-emergency-room-know-100000488.html

13th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 16B

13th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 16B August 22, 2021 This past week, I read a post on social media from a friend from high school. This woman, who is now a wife, a mother, and a judge, was sharing with her Facebook friends that her mother was in the ICU with non-Covid pneumonia. This family has had some tragic occurrences in the past decade, including the death by suicide of my friend’s father. I was intrigued by my friend’s post, so I’ll just read it to you: “I was taught a long time ago that all of us have a direct line to Jesus. None of us have more access than another. We can all go straight to the source. However, as I've gotten older, I've recognized that there are certain people who walk among us who seem to have a sensitivity to the spiritual world that is extraordinary. Maybe they listen better and are willing to hear more, so they know more, feel more, and are just more in tune. A friend of an aunt of mine is one of those people. When our family has a big prayer request, we send that request to her friend that I will just call "S." I've never met her, but I feel like I know her. I sure know her heart. I think her spirit must be one of the most beautiful on Earth…. I know many of you know my mama has pneumonia (non-Covid) and is in the hospital. She's been there for a week today. None of us have put it on Facebook, but most [everybody in our small town] knows she's there and it isn't a secret. She is a private woman, and I respect her privacy, but I also believe that when you are given a message by a woman who listens to and hears Jesus via the Holy Spirit---you don't just keep that to yourself. So, I'm not. S told us to pray, ‘Lord, turn it around.’ I've been praying it over and over and over today. I've prayed it for my mama, and I'd sure appreciate it if you would pray it for my mama, too. But S may hear more than she even knows she hears. Covid. "Lord, turn it around." Afghanistan and national security. "Lord, turn it around." The grief everywhere you look. "Lord, turn it around." The division that only gets deeper and wider. "Lord, turn it around." I believe S is a woman who is willing to listen and hear more than the average person. I know I don't need her to give me a prayer to pray for my mama for it to be some kind of magic. I also know that those who listen and hear get specific messages the rest of us may miss. So I'm humbly asking, if you are a pray-er, you consider praying the four simple words: "Lord, turn it around." And when you watch something in your world turn, will you post it? Your turn may be little to us but big to you. It may be big to every last one of us. It may make a huge difference to many, all over, no matter his or her belief or faith. It may give someone out there hope. And we ALL need a big, fat dose of hope. Lord, turn it around. Please.” Our Old Testament reading for today takes place just as Joshua is about to lead the Israelites into the promised land. Joshua recounts all the ways that Yahweh has saved the Israelites, and he urges them to renew the covenant that Yahweh made with them in the wilderness. As a part of that renewal, they will be pledging to turn solely toward Yahweh and to turn away from and renounce any of the gods of the land they are entering. “Choose this day whom you will serve…as for me and my house we will serve the Lord,” Joshua urges them. It has been interesting for me to think about how when we choose or turn toward something, we are inevitably turning away from something else. In this instance the people are choosing Yahweh and turning away from all other gods. But if we think about it, there are so many times in our lives that mean that when we choose one path, we are turning away from something else. I think of all the times I have chosen work and turned away from family. Times I have chosen my self and turned away from the other; chosen easy answers over mystery and uncertainty when it comes to my relationship with God. Times when I have chosen any and everything else and turned away from God and the way Jesus taught me how to be in this life. So as tempting as it is for me to pray my friend’s prayer, “Lord, turn it around” (and I certainly have been praying that for her mother Judy), I realize that the choices we each make and that we have all made together are what determine where we find ourselves now. So I can pray, “Lord, turn it around.” But I also need to pray, “Lord, turn us around. Lord, turn me around.” Because the nature of this human life and the nature of what we refer to as sin, is that most of us have never been able to consistently choose God, to consistently turn to God and away from the forces that destroy us. We see it in this story from Ancient Israel. We see it in the disciples who leave Jesus when his questions become too difficult. We see it everywhere in the world around us today. So this week, I invite you to pray for my friend’s mom who’s name is Judy. Pray that God will turn her pneumonia around. And I also invite you to join me in praying: “Lord, turn it around. Lord, turn us around. Lord, turn me around.” Covid. "Lord, turn it around. Turn us around. Lord, turn me around.” Afghanistan and national security. "Lord, turn it around. Turn us around. Turn me around.” Haiti "Lord, turn it around. Turn us around. Turn me around.” The grief everywhere you look. "Lord, turn it around. Turn us around. Turn me around.” The division that only gets deeper and wider. “Lord, turn it around. Lord, turn us around. Lord, turn me around. And lead us back to you.” Amen.

11th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 13B

11th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 14B August 8, 2021 I’m going to fill you in on a well-kept secret of all preachers: there’s a fine line between a deep dive on a good sermon illustration and procrastination. Often it is only after the fact that one can tell the difference. This past week, as I was preparing to preach (and possibly procrastinating preparing to preach) about this story about Elijah, I ran across a quote that a seminary classmate had posted on her social media account. This quote got right to what is going on in our Old Testament reading for today, so I saved it to continue to ponder. The quote is “Don’t you want to see what happens if you don’t give up? Don’t you want to see what happens? And that’s what I keep saying to myself and that’s what I say to everyone watching tonight. Don’t you want to see what happens if you don’t give up?”i The quote is attributed to someone named Nightbirde, who I’ve never heard of, so I did what every good preacher does. I went to Google and typed “who is Nightbirde?” But before I tell you more about Nightbirde, let me tell you about what’s going on here with Elijah. This part of Elijah’s story has always fascinated me. Last year, especially, this story rose to prominence as there was a meme that circulated among clergy types that referenced this portion of scripture: “This is your gentle reminder that one time in the Bible, Elijah was like ‘God, I’m so mad! I want to die!’ So God said ‘Here’s some food. Why don’t you have a nap?’ So Elijah slept, ate, and decided things weren’t so bad. Never underestimate the spiritual power of a nap and a snack.” Elijah has just come off a major victory over the prophets of the false god Baal, Yahweh’s biggest rival. Elijah has called down fire from heaven to convince the people that Yahweh is the true God and that they should follow him. The people are looking for a show of strength from God, or any god, as they have struggled through 3 years of drought that has plagued the land. As a result of Elijah’s fire-show, he convinces his audience to follow Yahweh, and Elijah himself kills all the prophets of Baal who have been present at the contest (there were 450), and then it begins to rain showing that the drought is truly ended. But when Queen Jezebel, the patron of the prophets of Baal, hears what Elijah has done, she threatens to find him and kill him, so Elijah flees to the wilderness where our passage for today picks up. But, we also need to be mindful of what happens next, after this passage, and this is where Nightbirde’s quote comes in. It’s almost as if we can here God in this story saying, “Elijah, you really are going to want to see what happens next. Don’t give up now!” Because when Elijah rests and eats, he continues his journey to a cave on the top of Mount Horeb, which is known as the mount of God. There Elijah meets God, face to face, and God tells Elijah exactly what to do next, how to survive this next season. So, what did Google have to say about this person named Nightbirde? Nighbirde, whose real name is Jane Marczewski, is a 30 year-old singer on the show America’s Got Talent. In her audition for AGT, Nightbirde, who has a waifish look about her, is being interviewed by the panel of judges. She shares that Nighbirde is her professional name, and she reveals, in a way that is both casual and optimistic, that she has been fighting cancer for years, and that for her audition, she is singing an original song that is about the last year of her life titled “It’s ok.” So, I listened to her song (deep dive, remember?). The first two times I listened to it, y’all, I just wept. Since we don’t have music today, I’ll play the song for you later in the service, but for now, the chorus goes: “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay/ if you’re lost, we’re all a little lost and it’s alright/ It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay/ if you’re lost, we’re all a little lost and it’s alright.” ii This week has been hard. In some ways I feel a lot like Elijah. I want to sit down somewhere alone in the middle of nowhere and tell God: “‘It’s enough now, O Lord!’ We’ve tried to be faithful for so long. We’ve stayed away and apart; we’ve gotten vaccinated; we’ve even put our masks back on. And still Covid cases are rising quickly here in Chatham County; the hospitals are dangerously full. We are so tired, and we don’t really know what to do. We had all these wonderful plans for the fall for new life together that would feel even more “normal,” so many fun things that we were working on, and, for at least right now, the most faithful thing seems to be to just stay our current course and to be prepared to pull back if absolutely needed. “It’s ok/ if you’re lost. We’re all a little lost, and it’s alright.” Just this week, Nightbirde announced that she was leaving America’s Got Talent because her health has taken a turn for the worse, and she needs to put all her energy and attention into her fight against cancer. She concludes her announcement with these words: “Thank you for all your support, it means the world to me. Stay with me, I’ll be better soon. I’m planning my future, not my legacy. Pretty beat up, but I’ve still got dreams.” Both Nightbirde and the story about Elijah have been a much-needed reminder for me that agents of God and agents of Hope are all around us, even in the most desolate parts of the wilderness, and sometimes, the most important thing we can do, the most faithful thing we can do is to just keep going. “Don’t you want to see what happens if you don’t give up? Don’t you want to see what happens? And that’s what I keep saying to myself and that’s what I say to everyone watching tonight. Don’t you want to see what happens if you don’t give up?” i. Nightbirde to Chris Cuomo in an interview sometime earlier this week. ii. To hear NIghtbirde’s audition for America’s Got Talent and to read more about her, check this out: https://variety.com/2021/music/news/nightbirde-americas-got-talent-cancer-drops-out-1235032856/

10th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 13B

10th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 13B August 1, 2021 In light of our readings this week, I’ve been thinking about trust and insatiability and about how these two attitudes are opposites in our relationships with God and with each other. In our reading from Exodus this week, we see the Children of Israel, who are only about a month into their journey with God and Moses in the wilderness. So, this is actually a pretty new relationship between God and God’s people. Scripture tells us that after Joseph, the people forgot about God, and so God is starting over with them. The people start complaining about how they are hungry and how they wish God had just left them to die in Egypt, where at least they had food. So, God devises a plan, and God’s plan is a two-fold plan. 1. God will provide food for God’s people and 2. In the way that God provides food for God’s people, God will teach the Israelites how to trust God. God provides manna, but God gives them specific instructions on how to collect manna and how much manna to collect—only enough for each day. So, while the manna feeds the people, it also serves to teach them how to trust God, how to be in relationship with God. Embedded in God’s very gift is that which will help strengthen the people’s relationship with God. But while the story for today ends ok, we know what is coming. The people will eventually complain about the manna, that it doesn’t really fill them up, that they grow weary of it, day after day after day, that it isn’t enough. We see some of this insatiability echoed in our gospel reading for today. Jesus has just fed the 5,000 in a miraculous sign, and then he has escaped the mob. But the people find him, and when they do, he accuses them of misunderstanding, and suggests that they are insatiable for signs, that upon which they can base their trust in him and in God. “Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life,” he tells them. My husband has a good friend here in town who is Jewish. They often have conversations about the Old Testament or Hebrew Scriptures, and David asked his friend this week about manna. David’s friend sent back an excerpt from his rabbi’s morning meditation one day earlier this week. The friend’s rabbi writes, “When Jewish people conclude a satisfying meal that includes bread, they say four blessings. Why? Because the Torah says, ‘When you eat and you’re satisfied, you should bless G‑d for the land He has given you.’ The last three blessings were composed in the Promised Land. But the first blessing was composed by Moses when manna appeared from heaven. Now isn’t it strange that we say a blessing for bread from heaven after eating bread that comes from the earth? Really, the blessing is not on the food itself. It’s on our satiation from the food. That makes things yet more puzzling. Manna was a food that never left you satisfied—for two reasons: Because you could not see what you were eating, and because you couldn’t save any of it for the next day. Why do we say a blessing composed for a food that left people unsatisfied to thank G‑d for a satisfying meal? Because, as the rabbis say, “A full jar cannot hold anything. But an empty jar can hold everything.” Those who see their income as a tangible asset, acquired and preserved by natural means, their possessions fill their lives so that they cannot see G‑d’s blessing. But those who know that everything is always in G‑d’s hands, like manna from heaven, they are empty and ready to receive. Whatever they have, they see it as a gift, a blessing, and they celebrate.” So this would suggest that we can hold our insatiability within a particular framework or attitude, a sort of mindfulness of our reliance upon God, and that in turn will help cultivate gratitude. In thinking about the trust aspect of this, I started thinking about how I work with engaged couples in pre-marital counseling in building trust. In a short video about how to build trust, relationship expert Dr. John Gottman says, “How do you build trust? You can turn to research because research will tell you what it specifically is that increases this trust metric and what it is that helps us understand the dynamics of betrayal. It turns out that trust is built in very small moments…because in any interaction there is a possibility of connection with our partner or turning away from our partner.” Gottman goes on to give an example from his own relationship, telling about a time in his marriage when he really wanted to finish his mystery book he was reading—he was pretty sure he knew who the killer was. He set the book down and went into the bathroom where his wife was brushing her hair. And Gottman noticed that his wife looked sad. In that moment, he had a choice. He could slip out of the bathroom and go back to his novel, or he could check-in with his wife. He ended up asking her what was wrong, and he said, “In that moment, I was building trust. I was there for her. I was connecting with her rather than choosing to think about only what I wanted. These are the moments that we’ve discovered that build trust. And one such moment is not that important, but if you are always choosing to turn away the trust erodes in the relationship very gradually, very slowly.” He continues, “The atom of betrayal is not just turning away, not just turning away from my wife’s sadness in that moment, but doing what Carol Rusbault called a ‘cl-alt’….and what that means is I not only turn away from her sadness but I think to myself, ‘I can do better. Who needs this crap? I’m always dealing with her negativity. I can do better!’….Cl-alt stands for Comparison level for alternatives, and once you start thinking that you can do better, then you begin a cascade of not committing to the relationship.”i These ideas about trust are true for our relationship with God as well. Trust in God is built in and through many small moments. In each moment, we have the choice to move toward God or to turn away from God. And when we turn away from God over and over again over time, then we begin to live into the cl-alt: “I can do better.” And in these moments, we let our insatiability rule our relationship with God as opposed to allowing it to deepen our gratitude. You invitation this week is to think about a time in a significant relationship from this past week when you turned toward the person and a time when you didn’t. And also to think about a time when you turned toward God and a time when you didn’t. Think also about that for which you long that only God can give, and offer a prayer to God of thanksgiving for your need, your longing. i. John Gottman on How to Build Trust. (from the Science of a Meaningful Live) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgWnadSi91s&t=263s

The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 12B

9th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 12B July 25, 2021 Our family of four get along pretty well in most areas. But there is one topic on which we are grievously divided. When we argue, we usually argue about this particular topic, and stark battle lines have been drawn between for and against. The topic of contention is… leftovers. Some of us are often grateful for leftovers because it means that is one less meal that we have to cook. Those in the pro-leftover camp have been known to eat entire pyrex dishes of leftovers, meal after meal after meal, until they have been completely consumed and the eaters are well and thoroughly sick of them, but by golly, they will get eaten. Others of us will not deign to let any leftovers pass their lips. They scorn the lowly leftover and take great offense if it is suggested that they should eat them. One member of the anti-leftover party likes to refer to the lowly leftover as “old food,” which does not win them any points with those in the pro-leftover party. The anti-leftover faction is perfectly happy to let the leftover proponents struggle through their consumption of them, as long as they do not suggest they, too, should join in the consumption. I’ve been thinking about the contrast between leftovers and new food or “first fruits” as they are depicted in our readings, and about our feelings surrounding those, and about how that may impact our relationship with God. Our gospel and our Old Testament readings give us depictions of two miraculous feeding stories. One of the main differences I see is that the Old Testament reading gives particular attention to first fruits, and the Gospel reading gives particular attention to leftovers. In the Old Testament reading, an unnamed man comes to the prophet Elisha bringing an offering of first fruits. First fruits are the first and best of a person’s harvest, and people throughout the years have been encouraged to give the first and the best of what we have to God (and in this case, the prophets who are the servants of God). You may have heard preachers speak about “first fruits” during annual giving season, when we are encouraged to look at all of our resources and to give to God through the church off the top as opposed to giving out of what we have left. In the Old Testament story, the servant questions Elisha on how so many people can be fed by so little; Elisha replies, “Give it to the people and let them eat, for thus says the Lord, ‘They shall eat and have some left.’” And then what happens? They have plenty to eat, so much so that they actually have leftovers! The gospel story mirrors this and other feeding stories from the Old Testament. Jesus and his disciples have gone to a deserted place where the crowds have followed them. Jesus urges his disciples to feed the crowd, and they are initially flummoxed because there is very little food to be found. When a boy offers his five barley loaves and two fish, Jesus “took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, ‘Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.’” So they gathered them up, and then what happened? They filled up 12 baskets with….leftovers. And it strikes me that Jesus is very insistent about how they deal with the leftovers: “gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.” Why does Jesus care so much about the leftovers, especially when we’ve been taught over and over again, that it is the first fruits that are the best? What might be gained by thinking about how Jesus cares not only about the best of each of us, but also that he cares about the leftover pieces of our lives as well? How might if change us if instead of thinking about the leftover and broken pieces of our lives as something to be discarded or a sign of scarcity to see those broken pieces as Jesus sees them, as worthy of being gathered up, tended to, and cherished? How might it change us to reflect on the fact that rather than being a sign of scarcity, the left over broken pieces of our lives, of this last year….are not signs of scarcity but signs of abundance? Your invitation this week is to reflect on what you’d consider to the broken parts and pieces of your life, the leftovers that you are sick of eating. Name those before Jesus. It can be old broken parts; broken parts from this past year and a half of trauma that we have all lived out separately together. Now imagine Jesus gathering up those old, broken parts, those leftover bits of your life that you don’t really want and you don’t really know what to do with. Imagine he gathers them to himself with care. What do you want to ask Jesus to do with those leftover, broken pieces of your life? In what way might Jesus be inviting you to see those leftover, broken pieces of your life through eyes of abundance instead of eyes of scarcity?

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 10B

The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 10B July 11, 2021 This week in the life of the church, we’ve been offering Vacation Bible School to children from the church and the neighborhood. Our theme has been “Who is my Neighbor?” and our curriculum has been modeled on the long-running popular children’s t.v. show Mister Roger’s Neighborhood. All week, we’ve been exploring with the children what it means to be a good neighbor. As a part of this experience, I’ve immersed myself in learning more about Fred Rogers, the man who was a formative part of my own childhood. I’ve read a book exploring his theology and how he was formed in it over the course of his life and ministry as a t.v producer and ordained Presbyterian Minister. I watched the documentary about him that showed clips of his shows and interviews with his wife, his sons, his friends, and many people who worked closely with him over the years. And a few things were made clear to me in all of that. Fred Rogers communicated his understanding of the gospel which can be boiled down to “Love your neighbor. Love yourself.” In all of his work with children, he faithfully worked to communicated two truths that he had learned. “I like you just the way you are,” he said to his audience over and over again, which flows from his understanding that God has created each and every one of us good. (Or as Fred often put it: “the bedrock of our being is good stuff.”i ). This was a core affirmation that Mister Rogers repeated over and over again. Mister Rogers was also very intentional in his use of the word “neighbor.” Those of us who are Christian can’t hear that word without harkening back to the question from the lawyer to Jesus that sparked one of Jesus’s most well-known parables which is the parable of the Good Samaritan. The lawyer asks Jesus, “who is my neighbor.” Jesus tells the story and then asks the man “which of these three was a good neighbor?” and the man answers, “the one who demonstrated mercy toward him.” In the book Exactly as You Are: The Life and Faith of Mister Rogers, author Shea Tuttle writes, “When Mister Rogers called his viewers “neighbors,” when he hosted us in his neighborhood for over thirty years, he was playing out his own greatest parable: calling us, gently but firmly, into lives of mercy and care for one another. He knew we wouldn’t always get it right, that we are prone, like the [puppet] king [Friday the 13th] that he so lovingly created, to bow to fear and to serve competition, to privilege our own safety and to neglect others’ real needs. Maybe, in calling us neighbors, he knew he was calling us something better than we actually were…and that maybe we could grow into real neighbors to one another.”ii In a perfect world, our lectionary would have given us the parable of the Good Samaritan for our gospel reading for today, and that would be the end of this sermon. But alas…we have this strange and macabre story of the beheading of John the Baptist. What on earth does that have to do with Mister Rogers? First, it’s important to notice the placement of this horrid story in Mark’s gospel. It’s actually wedged right in the middle of our gospel reading from last week—when Jesus sends out his disciples, telling them to take only what they immediately need, and gives them the power to heal people and cast out demons. This is actually what King Herod hears about, the work of Jesus’s disciples that is going on, that makes him reflect on what he did to his old friend John. And immediately after this story, the disciples return to Jesus completely elated and bursting to tell him of all the good works they accomplished in his name. Mark is setting up the dichotomy between the Kingdom of God and the Kingdoms of this world as presided over by the Herods. What is key to this story of Herod and John the Baptist, I think, is that Herod was sad to kill John but he wouldn’t stand up to those who tricked him into doing it because he was worried it would make him look weak. In talking about his own theology, Mister Rogers spoke about this: “Evil will do anything to make you feel as bad as you possibly can about yourself…because if you feel the worst about who you are, you will undoubtedly look with evil eyes on your neighbor and you will get to believe the worst about him or her.” In other words, evil travels, creating a kind of domino effect: “Accuse yourself. Accuse your neighbor. Get your neighbors to accuse somebody else, and the evil spreads and thrives.” “Jesus would want us to see the best of who we are, so we would have that behind our eyes as we looked at our neighbor, and we would see the best in him or her. You can be an accuser or an advocate. Evil would have you be an accuser in this life. Jesus would have you be an advocate for your neighbor.” Put another way, “if we are lovable and acceptable because we are God’s, then our neighbor, who is equally God’s, is also lovable and acceptable. And we are called into that work of that loving and accepting.”iii This week, as you go out into the neighborhood that is your life, may you be like Mister Rogers: looking at yourself through God’s eyes and seeing yourself as the best of who you are and seeing your neighbor through those eyes as well. May you look for ways to gently show mercy and care to people you encounter over the course of this week and beyond. In the words of Mister Rogers: “You’ve made this day a special day, by just your being you. There’s no person in the whole world like you, and I like you just the way you are.” Tuttle. Shea. Exactly as You Are: The Life and Faith of Mister Rogers. Eerdmans Publishing: Grand Rapids, 2019, p30 Ibid pp101-102 Ibid. pp 59-61.

6th Sunday after Pentecost-July 4, 2021

6th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 9B July 4, 2021 Our readings for today remind me of some advice that a more senior colleague gave to my husband many years ago. “God doesn’t call us to be effective; God calls us to be faithful.” These words have helped shape my understanding of ministry, of discipleship, of parenting, of life, and I often need to return to them as a touchstone to help ground my first-born, over-achieving soul. “God doesn’t call us to be effective; God calls us to be faithful.” In our first lesson, Ezekiel has just had an up close and personal encounter with the Holy One. He is still visibly shaken from this encounter with God, and so God picks him up and tells him that God wants Ezekiel to go to the people of Israel, “a nation of rebels” who have rebelled against God. They’re probably not going to listen to you and you won’t be particularly effective, God tells Ezekiel, but I want you to go anyway, because I want them to know that I care about them enough to send them a prophet to warn them that they are headed for disaster. In our gospel reading, after encountering his own kind of ineffectiveness because of the disbelief of the people of his hometown, Jesus sends out his disciples two by two, and he encourages them to strive for faithfulness over effectiveness when they go out to preach the good news saying, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place.” Don’t try to move around from house to house to maximize your effectiveness, he tells them, but rather be faithful. Years ago, I read a book titled Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives by Richard A Swenson who is an M.D. This book was such balm to my soul that I used it as a young adult book study and saw those young parents drink it down like people who were dehydrated and didn’t even realize it. Swenson’s premise is that many of the ills that he encounters in his medical practice can be solved by people creating margin in their lives. He says our lives are like pieces of paper that are full up from side to side and top to bottom with writing. We have filled up all the empty space of our lives so that they are no longer able to reveal meaning. We are, as a society, marginless. He writes, “Marginless is being thirty minutes late to the doctor’s office because you were twenty minutes late getting out of the bank because you were ten minutes late dropping the kids off at school because the car ran out of gas two blocks from the gas station—and you forgot your wallet. Margin, on the other hand, is having breath left at the top of the staircase, money left at the end of the month, and sanity left at the end of adolescence… Marginless is fatigue; margin is energy. Marginless is red ink; margin is black ink. Marginless is hurry; margin is calm. Marginless is anxiety; margin is security. Marginless is culture; margin is counterculture. Marginless is the disease of the new millennium; margin is its cure.” i In order to reinstate margin in our lives, Swenson writes that we have to understand what has led us to our current marginless way of life, and that is progress. He writes, “Exactly what is progress? Simply stated, progress means proceeding to a higher stage of development. ‘The idea of progress,’ explains historian Robert Nisbet, ‘holds that mankind has advance in the past…and is now advancing, and will continue to advance through the foreseeable future. From at least the early nineteenth century until a few decades ago, belief in the progress of mankind, with Western civilization in the vanguard, was virtually a universal religion on both sides of the Atlantic.’ Progress was automatic, the inevitable function of chronology, and the flow of progress was assumed to be inherently positive.”ii Progress in and of itself is not an ill. Swenson as an MD writes about all the benefits we have found as a result of progress. But Swenson’s premise in his book is that we must regain control of progress because we have let it run rampant, dictate our priorities, and then we must redirect it. The first step in that is breaking our addiction to progress. The second step is to make progress subservient to our greater goals and needs, especially relationships. The goal of margin, for Swenson, is to nurture relationships because this is where we find meaning and purpose. This has all been especially through provoking for me as we have led up to this day, July 4th, when we mark the founding of our nation. We as a nation have accomplished so many astounding and wonderful things as a part of this drive for progress, and we have also sacrificed relationships and people along the way in pursuit of this goal. (This is echoed in our thanksgiving for the nation from our Book of Common Prayer that we are using today as our prayers of the people.) “God doesn’t call us to be effective; God calls us to be faithful.” Where in your life do you need to hear these words today? What might it look like for you to set aside your drive to be effective, so that you might live more faithfully? Where in your life might you need to examine your addiction to progress and look to tending relationships in new and different ways? i. Swenson. Richard A. Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives. Nav Press: Colorado Springs, 2004, p13. iil Ibid. pp 22-23