Saturday, November 28, 2020
First Sunday of Advent Year B 2020
First Sunday of Advent Year B
November 29, 2020
This past week, one of my friends shared a bunch of music on Facebook, and I’ve been listening to one of the songs, over and over. It’s call “Dark Turn of Mind” by the singer Gillian Welch. The song is about how the singer has been treated unkindly by a lover in the past, and this has opened up for her a new way of seeing the world that at first appears to be a burden but turns out to be a gift. Her way of seeing the world with “a dark turn of mind” opens her up to seeing beauty that is found in melancholy, in sorrow, in the shadows. Welch sings:
“Now I see the bones in the river
And I feel the wind through the pine
And I hear the shadows a-calling
To a girl with a dark turn of mind
But oh ain't the nighttime so lovely to see?
Don't all the night birds sing sweetly?
You'll never know how happy I'll be
When the sun's going down
And leave me if I'm feeling too lonely
Full as the fruit on the vine
You know some girls are bright as the morning
And some have a dark turn of mind
You know some girls are bright as the morning
And some girls are blessed with a dark turn of mind”i
Today is the first day of the new year for the church. It is the beginning of Advent, a season of longing and of expectation, a season where we are invited to have a dark turn of mind, for at least a little while.
Our readings for today certainly offer us this lens to look through. Isaiah gives us a song of lament from a people in exile who are longing for God to break into their reality and to restore them to their rightful place in the promised land, to once again give them the gift of peace and hope and belonging.
And today, we begin in Mark’s gospel, not at the beginning, but near to the end. Jesus is approaching his crucifixion, and he invites his disciples and us to dwell with him for a while under the shadow of the cross that is looming over him. While the disciples may not fully grasp the dark clouds that are gathering, the original hearers of Mark’s gospel are no stranger to them. The earliest of all the gospels, Mark was written right after a Jewish uprising brought down the full wrath of the Romans upon Jerusalem, and these early followers of the Way are living in the rubble of the destruction of their city and, perhaps even more grievously, the temple.
This Advent season, in the midst of chaos and disease and turmoil, we are invited to recognize the longing of this season by seeing the shadows of despair, war, sorrow, and hate, in our own hearts and in the world around us, even as we are actively waiting for Jesus to come, lighting candles of hope, peace, joy, and love.
“Likewise, to really hear what Mark is saying, we first need to enter the shadows, those places where all hope seems lost. Roman armies desecrate and destroy the temple, ruining the sacred heart of the world — not just in first-century Palestine, but also here and now. And in a time of pandemic, many people are already in the shadows of suffering, anxiety, exhaustion, and grief. A key message of Advent and Christmas is that such shadows are precisely the place where Jesus comes, and where the church is called to go.” ii
One of the commentaries that I read this week had this to say about seeing the world through a dark turn of mind this season and dwelling in an among the shadows this Advent:
“I recall a comment that our country has changed over the past years from one that wanted to be good to one that wants to feel good. We see some of this desire every Christmas season as people run from store to store… searching for the things that will bring them and their families some sort of fulfillment and happiness. Peace, the kind of peace that the world is hungering for, will not come from trying to fill ourselves up with material things. We try to stem our hurt and pride by running away from pain and caring only about what is ours. We cannot create peace through selfishness, but by opening ourselves to hope. Hope is what is left when all your worst fears have been realized and you are no longer optimistic about the future. Hope is what comes with a broken heart willing to be mended.” iii
So many of us are longing for peace that we often try to create it, to manufacture peace ourselves. But Advent is an invitation to all of us to dwell for a bit in the darkness, to come along-side the suffering, the longing, the heartbreak until we can become friends with it. When we allow this world to break our hearts, then we create space for God to fill us with hope, and it is only then that we discover true peace.
Your invitation this week is to spend some time with the shadows, to open your heart to the suffering that you feel or that you encounter in the world around you, and then offer that to God in prayer. And as you begin to make friends with the shadows, to see the world through a dark turn of mind, may you also begin to look for signs of hope.
i. Dark Turn of Mind by Songwriters: David Todd Rawlings / Gillian Howard Welch; https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=57ms9XDjs64;
ii. https://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/2017/11/27/keep-awake-lectionary-commentary-advent-week-one
iii. Feasting on the Word Year B Vol 1. Ed Bartlett and Brown. WJK: 2008. Pastoral Perspective: Isaiah 64:1-9 by Patricia E. De Jong. P 4.
Sunday, November 15, 2020
24th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 28 A 2020
24th Sunday after Pentecost--Proper 28A
November 15, 2020
A few years ago, I read a blog post by the Quaker spiritual writer Parker Palmer. Palmer was writing about his own discernment work that he was doing as he move further into his 70’s. He had been pondering the question: “What do I want to let go of, and what do I want to hold onto?” But, he realized that he needed help in this discernment process, and so he assembled a group of trusted friends whose work was not to answer the question for him but to help him see the issue with a greater clarity. He writes, “Their role was not to advise or ‘fix’ me, but to ask honest, open questions and simply listen to me respond, giving me a chance to hear my own inner wisdom more clearly.
He continues, “I emerged from that little gathering with something more important than an answer. I emerged with a better question. I’m no longer asking, ‘What do I want to let go of and what do I want to hang onto?’ Instead I’m asking, ‘What do I want to let go of and what do I want to give myself to?’”
Palmer concludes, “I now see that ‘hanging on’ is a fearful, needy, and clinging way to be in the world. But looking for what I want to give myself to transforms everything. It’s taking me to a place where I find energy, abundance, trust, and new life.”i
There are many different ways we can read Jesus’s parable for this Sunday of a harsh but generous master who gives three servants three different astounding amounts of money.
For me, during this strange, fearful season, it is helpful for me to use the parable as a lens for my own life, to examine the places where I have been so fearful that I buried gifts and to examine the places where I have stepped out in faith with bold daring to brave a new venture through the gifts or resources God has given me. And truthfully, we are all a strange mix of the fearful and the bold, the daring and the overly-cautious.
This is why Parker Palmer’s question is helpful for me these days. It is a way that I can look at my life through a different lens and seek to discern where I am putting my energy and if there are better places, better ways to share my energy, my attention, my time, my money, my resources.
“What do I want to let go of and what do I want to give myself to?”
We can’t hold on to everything, and we need to hold on to some things, to give ourselves whole-heartedly to God, to each other, to causes greater than ourselves. Your invitation this week is to spend some time in discernment with Parker Palmer’s question: “What do I want to let go of and what do I want to give myself to?” Are there things that you have been holding on to that you can ask God to help you relinquish? Are there things you need to take up, to give yourself to, that you can ask God to give you courage and daring to do?
I’m going to conclude with one my favorite poems by Mary Oliver. It is titled In Blackwater Woods.
Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars
of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,
the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders
of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is
nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned
in my lifetime
leads back to this
and the black river of loss
whose other side
is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.ii
i. https://onbeing.org/blog/the-choice-of-hanging-on-or-giving-to/
ii. Oliver, Mary. American Primitive. Back Bay Books: 1983.
Sunday, November 8, 2020
23rd Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 27A
23rd Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 27A
November 8, 2020
When I was going through the process to become a priest, I had to answer a series of questions about my personality and my theology. One of these questions that I’ve been thinking about lately is “How are you with uncertainty?”
It’s really a horrible question, and I have no idea how I even answered it in all my 25-year old glory. How are you with uncertainty? Over the years, I’ve pondered why they would even ask us this question: How are you with uncertainty? And the older I get, the more I realize they ask us this question: “how are you with uncertainty?” because nothing, really, is ever certain.
Our readings highlight that for us today. The community in Thessolonika are upset because they had expected Jesus’s imminent return, and yet some of their community have died before Jesus has returned. Paul seeks to reassure them in their uncertainty.
And Jesus, near the end of his earthly ministry, tells a parable that is all about uncertainty and about how different people deal with it. Some people, who he calls “wise,” try to be as prepared as possible for uncertainty, while others, who he calls “foolish,” find themselves unprepared for uncertainty, and as a result, end up being locked out of the party.
We who are no strangers to uncertainty, this week, this last 7 months….We might wonder what we must do to be prepared for uncertainty? And really that’s the better question, isn’t it? Not so much “how are you with uncertainty?” (“Fine?” she says uncertainly?) But really how do you prepare for uncertainty, in your life, in the world around you? What are the spiritual practices that you deploy during times of uncertainty, and what are the spiritual practices that you normally access to strengthen your spiritual muscles for when you must face uncertainty?
Jesus parable has a hint for us there, too. One of the spiritual practices we can deploy in both uncertain and in more stable times is to be surprised by joy. Because that’s what the wedding banquet is; it’s an invitation to be surprised by the joyful, unexpected, and long-awaited presence of the bridegroom. It is the invitation that all, the wise and the foolish, have received to the joyful occasion that is the wedding banquet, and it is the reminder that we must position ourselves so that we are fully present when the party starts, and not racing around looking for that which is unimportant to try to stave off our own anxiety and uncertainty and unpreparedness.
So, what are ways that we might be surprised by joy? One of those is through a regular practice of thanksgiving. A few weeks ago, we began the annual giving campaign here at St. Thomas which is titled: Sheltering St. Thomas: Giving in Gratitude. It has been such a gift to me to listen to how different parishioners are grateful for the life and ministry of this place, and their stories continue to feed and nurture my own gratitude. Also, for the rest of this month, we’ll be doing the litany of thanksgiving that is found in our BCP to help us strengthen our gratitude muscles. It’s something that you could make as a daily practice during this season if you are so inclined.
Another way to be surprised by joy is to do something creative. The creative process is chock-full of uncertainty. You never know exactly how the creative process is going to turn out, and for me this week, I’ve found creative outlets in the humble and mundane practices of singing and cooking. I was also delighted this week with Peggy V’s video where she talks about how they’ve been surprised by joy through creatively connecting with St. Thomas during this past summer.
The third way is by paying attention to what is going on around you. When we are fully present in the moment (as opposed to be checked out in our own worries or on our phones, we are more likely to be surprised by the goodness of what is in our immediate vicinity. And the fourth and final way to be open to being surprised by joy in the midst of uncertainty is in remembering and giving thanks for joyful moments from the past. This past week, Jim Joyce has offered me a wonderful example of this in his Facebook series “Project Spread Joy” where he’s been sharing photos that are chock full of the joy from their life together.
Your invitation this week, in the face of uncertainty, is to reflect on how you prepare for uncertainty and how you deal with it in the moment, and to create space for you to be surprised by joy.
Sunday, November 1, 2020
All Saint's Day-Year A
All Saints’ Day Year A
November 1, 2020
A letter to all the faithful of St. Thomas Isle of Hope on this All Saint’s Day
Dear Beloved of God,
It’s our first day in over 7 months to be back in worship in person together, and yet still, we are spread out-in our pews and chairs and in our homes--among three services, one of which is virtual. It is 2 days until the most difficult and contentious election of my lifetime. We all need some good news.
It is my usual custom when we have a baptism to write a letter to the baptismal candidate or candidates about what we believe we are doing when we baptize them. Since All Saints’ day is one of 7 major feasts of the church when baptism is especially appropriate and when it is also appropriate to renew our baptismal covenant when we don’t have a baptism, I thought we all might benefit from a letter to all of us who will be renewing our baptismal promises today.
Our epistle reading for today reminds us of the truth of our baptism: that each one of us is God’s beloved child; that we claim that belovedness in and through our baptism and we recommit ourselves to living as God’s beloved every time we renew our baptismal covenant. It is a reminder that “we are the people who love one another” whether that is the strangers we meet, the people in our lives or in our households, and especially those we know too well and don’t like very much or disagree with.
Our gospel reading for today is the portion of Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount that is known as the Beatitudes. It is an unorthodox list of blessings that Jesus promises to his disciples who have gathered near to listen to him on the mountain. It is both “a description of and a summons to a new kind of life, kingdom-life…Jesus is trying to help his disciples and us envision what life will look like when we live according to God’s will and rule.”i
It is also an important reminder for us that “when God is present and we live according to the logic of the kingdom, all is not as it seems. Note that the list of those ‘blessed’ does not align even remotely with a typical list of the blessed:” those who are wealthy, powerful, independent, beautiful, charismatic, healthy, happy. Instead, Jesus lists as those who are blessed those whom the world would consider to be cursed: “those who are mourning or are humble, or [those who] extend mercy rather than exact revenge, or [those who] strive for peace rather than exert their will through violence, just to name a few.”ii
And today, on this All Saint’s Day, especially, we remember and lift up this kingdom notion that all is not always as it seems as we remember and believe that those who have died are still near us, surrounding us, upholding us with their prayers and presence. We remember and hold fast to the hope that is woven throughout our burial liturgy: that death is not the end but a change and that when our mortal body lies in death, Jesus goes before us through death into the resurrection to prepare a place for us there in God’s kingdom that is both already and not yet alongside the vast company of all the faithful who have come before us.
This sermon on the mount and our renewal of our baptismal covenant this day both serve to invite us to transform our vision of where God is at work in the world in and through us. God is alongside and at work in the poor, the mourners, the meek, the hungry, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, the persecuted. And God is alongside and at work in and through us when we renounce evil and proclaim the good news of God in Christ; when we seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves and strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being.
Beloved, this week will be difficult, and it will probably be divisive. One news source reports that 70% of Americans are anxious about the election. The renewal of our baptismal vows and the reading from the Beatitudes on this All Saints’ Day are timely reminders of a truth articulated by Richard Rohr: “voting is a deeply moral act-a decisive statement of Christian faith that I matter, that justice matter, and that other people matter.”iii As followers of Jesus, we are called to live out the principals of our baptismal covenant and to vote for leaders who will lead us to be our very best selves.
Today, it is also important to remember, through the glorious example of the saints in light, those who have come through their own ordeals of their own times and entered fully into God’s kingdom; may they remind us of the hope of our calling: through Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection, God has shown, once and for all, that God’s love is stronger than absolutely anything. God’s love is stronger than Covid-19. God’s love is stronger than partisan politics and a deeply divided nation. God’s love is stronger than the forces of anxiety, grief, and fear that threaten to overwhelm us. God’s love is stronger than anything, even death. As we renew our baptismal covenant today, let us recommit ourselves to following the way of God’s beloved, to following the way of self-giving love. And may the Holy Spirit renew in us the faith, hope, and love that we need to face the days ahead.
i.David Lose in his blog post for Nov 1, 2020: http://www.davidlose.net/2020/10/all-saints-a-transformation/
ii.Ibid.
iii.Adapted from Richard Rohr, “A Deeply Moral Act: Voting Is a Decisive Statement of Christian Faith that I Matter, Justice Matters, and Others Matter,” Sojourners, vol. 47, no. 10 (November 2018), 19;
Sunday, October 25, 2020
21st Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 25A
21st Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 25A
October 25, 2020
When I was in my mid-twenties, working in the inner-city soup kitchen known as Stewpot, my job was to create and run a morning enrichment program for Senior Citizens and Adults with Mental Disabilities. One of my favorite days was always art therapy day, when the Occupational Therapists and their students from the local med-school would come in and offer art therapy to the participants in my program. On this particular day, the art therapists gave the assignment: if you could design a t-shirt that you could wear around all the time, what would it look like? The participants were given a piece of paper and some oil-based crayons and got to work. One participant who was a particular favorite of mine was Miss Virginia, an elderly black woman who had never had children and whose husband had died years before. She lived on a small, fixed income, and she was mischievous and child-like, fun-loving and wise. Virginia called me over to assist her, and I looked down to see that with the help of some of the students, she had written on her paper “Love Everybody.” She told me she wanted me to help her write her name on there and gave me specific details as to how she wanted it. I clarified it multiple times to make sure I understood what she was asking, and then finally wrote her name on the paper. She was immediately pleased, and I was humorously puzzled because her t-shirt design that had originally read: “Love Everybody” now said “Love Virginia Everybody.”
It was a powerful learning for me in my early 20’s, that no matter how different each of us is, we all have that basic desire to be loved by everybody, and if we were all as honest as Miss Virginia, we’d wear it around on a t-shirt, too. But, now that I’m older, I’ve been pondering the other human characteristic that we all share, no matter our differences: that is what is it that flips the switch in each of us between our motto being “Love everybody” and “Love ME everybody!” Because we all know that as Christians, we are supposed to “Love everybody,” but much of the time, we act in ways that try to demand “Love ME Everybody.”
Our gospel passage for today is perhaps one of the most well-known passages of scripture in the gospels. We are on week 5 of Jesus fighting with one group or another in the temple after he has ridden triumphantly into Jerusalem and driven the money-changers out of the temple. In our reading for today, a lawyer seeks to test Jesus by asking him, “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” Jesus answers, “’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”
Now, this is not new information. Any Jews listening would have known the law. But here is what is new about this. First, Jesus changes the words that he is quoting from Deuteronomy 6:5 and instead quoting it as it is written: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might…” Jesus changes might to mind. And then Jesus takes the second part from Leviticus 19:18 “You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the LORD.” So he pairs these two commandments in a new and different way than their original contexts, and the love that Jesus is referencing here is a love that looks like listening and keeping God’s commandments for the sake of personal and communal wellbeing. And, it’s a love that looks like kindness, generosity, and respect for our neighbors — and in particular, it looks like eschewing all claims to “vengeance” and “bearing grudges.”
This is all at the heart of our Christian faith and practice, and it is worth remembering in this season where it seems extra-difficult to love our neighbors. But it still doesn’t answer the question I’ve been pondering about what is it that can help us flip the switch in our hearts and minds and souls to go from “Love ME Everybody” to “Love Everybody.”
This past week, I had multiple conversations with all different people about how each person is not ok right now. “I was yelling at the customer service rep so loudly my wife came running in and fussed at me that I was going to have a stroke, and then I started yelling at her.” “I just feel like all of this emotion is built up inside me, like it’s behind a giant dam, and anytime anything happens, I’m afraid it’s going to all come flooding out.” “I’m normally pretty laid back, like a 4 on a scale of 1 to 10; but these days, I’m operating on a level of about a 7 all the time, and then, when I get worked up, I am off the chart-like 11 and higher. My husband thinks I’ve lost my mind.” If you are feeling this way, too, these days, know that you are not alone. But here’s some good news. There are ways that we can flip the switch back toward a more loving way of being in this world, a more loving way toward ourselves and toward our neighbors (and our poor spouses and family and customer service reps who have to put up with our crazy).
Because here’s the thing that I learned in a podcast this week, that has helped me and changed me. Most of us in this current moment are suffering from Burnout. Burnout occurs when we get trapped in a stressful emotion and thus in the stress cycle of that emotion. Our bodies are unable to let go of that emotion, and so it just continues to build up inside us until it erupts, and we find ourselves acting in ways that are not loving to whoever happens to be closest to us in the moment. But, the good news that I learned from the podcast is that there are 7 ways that we can help our bodies complete the stress cycle and in those ways we can flip the switch back to being more loving to ourselves and to all those around us. This is all from Brene Brown’s podcast Unlocking Us, and she interviews twin sisters Emily and Amelia Nagoski who both have PhD level degrees in their fields and who have written a book on Burnout together. I’ll put a link to the podcast as an endnote to this sermon (and on our FB page) in case you want to go listen to the whole thing. It’s all really helpful (but there is some profanity in it, so be mindful of when and where you listen.)
The sisters report that the 3 components of burnout are emotional exhaustion, decreased sense of accomplishment, and depersonalization. And here’s how they define these. Emotional exhaustion is “the fatigue that comes from caring too much for too long.” “Depersonalization [is] the depletion of empathy, caring and compassion, and…decreased sense of accomplishment [is] the unconquerable sense of futility, feeling that nothing you do makes any difference.”i.
They talk about how just because a stressful situation is done or over, it does not mean that the feeling or emotion we have associated with the situation has been completed. Instead, if we aren’t able to see the emotion through to its end, then we get stuck, the emotion gets lodged in our bodies, and we suffer burnout. (There’s so much more to this, and it’s really worth your time to listen to it our read the transcript.) But they have identified 7 ways we can complete the stress response cycle and thus be more loving to ourselves and each other. The first and most efficient is physical activity. Second is breathing—taking a set amount of time to not focus on your thoughts but instead to focus on simply breathing in and out. Third is positive social interaction. Fourth is laughter. Fifth is giving and receiving a 20 second hug. Sixth is crying—not focusing on why you are crying but instead on the act of crying itself. And seventh is creating something. They say that your body will tell you, you’ll feel it in your body, when you have completed the stress cycle.
And I’m going to conclude with some of their closing words from the podcast: “And thank God you know how to begin to feel better because if you can’t stay well enough to continue dealing with the stressors, you are going to burn out and stop trying to make the world a better place, and we need… Everybody… The world is in a bad enough state right now, we need everybody on board, which means we need everybody taking care of themselves. And if there’s anything we learned in the process of writing the book, it is that the cure for burnout isn’t and can’t be self-care, it has to be all of us caring for each other.”
This week, your invitation is to look for ways to take care of yourself so that you can “Love Everybody.”
[i] https://brenebrown.com/podcast/brene-with-emily-and-amelia-nagoski-on-burnout-and-how-to-complete-the-stress-cycle/
Sunday, October 18, 2020
20th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 24A
20th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 24A
October 18, 2020
This past week, as Fran and I sat outside in the mild temperatures giving out communion, I remarked about all the butterflies I had seen around on the church campus lately—all different colors and sizes. She said, “Did you know the yellow ones only live 24 hours?” I expressed my surprise, and she said, “Yes, just think about it. They live their whole lives in just one day: they are born they mate and have children; they fly around; they eat; and then they die. All in a single day. It’s kind of sad if you think about it.” And she was right, but I also realized that their impermanence made them that much more beautiful.
As I was giving out communion this week, I asked many of you how you were doing, if you were ready to come back to church. Of course, there were as many different answers as there are different people in this church, but I was struck by a theme that I heard from some of our older members. They talked about the impermanence of the current situation, about their faith that it wouldn’t go on forever. They said they’d been so careful for so many months, and they didn’t want to do anything to compromise that carefulness at this present moment.
I was also grateful to see some Facebook memories this past week. Kelly Bianco shared pictures from 4 years ago when the church fed the neighborhood after Hurricane Matthew, and I also got to see beautiful pictures capturing all the energy and fun of our fist CAST event this time last year. It was helpful for me to see those joyful memories alongside the reminders from some of our more seasoned parishioners about the impermanence of this present season coupled with those yellow butterflies who seem to be everywhere, now that I have eyes to look for them. I have been deeply grateful for those gifts in my life this week.
Also, this past week, I listened to a podcast while walking. It’s called 10 Percent Happier with journalist Dan Harris. Harris, an anchor for a major network, had a panic attack while on live tv, and so he started a meditation practice and now uses the podcast platform to interview people who talk about how we can be happier. The episode I listened to is titled What’s the point of joy right now? and the guest Harris interviewed is James Baraz, who is the author of the book Awakening Joy and is a practicing Buddhist.
In the podcast, Baraz spends a lot of time talking about mindfulness and how we can have “an equipment of mind to disarm all hostility.” This means paying attention to how things feel. For example, if you’re in the middle of a generous act, think to yourself, “I’m being generous now.” And it’s not to try to get attention for being generous from other people but rather it is to notice how good it feels for generosity to move through this being. Because whatever one ponders upon, that will become the frequency of the mind.
Baraz quotes a friend of his who likes to say, “The brain is like Teflon for positive experiences and Velcro for negative ones.” And then he goes on to elaborate: “It takes some training to be on the look out for the good and not only notice it but to be present for it mindfully not just as a thought ‘Oh, this is a good moment. I’m happy now.’ But actually to be mindful in your body. So instead of knowing ‘Oh, I’m feeling good right now,’ to notice ‘Oh, this is what it feels like to feel good.’ And just with a few moments of turning your attention to that, so that there is a visceral experience, is tremendously powerful. And that’s what we [need to] do over a course of time.” We have the power to cultivate an “equipment of mind” to overcome negativity and hostility by focusing on positive experiences, even cultivating them, and paying attention to how our bodies and souls feel when we have them. And the more we do it, the easier it gets.
So, what does all this have to do with any of the readings today? In the letter of Paul to the Thessalonians, we see Paul using the standard opening of this time. This is the oldest of Paul’s letter’s, probably the oldest book of the New Testament. And what does it start with? What does Paul start with? “We always give thanks to God for all of you…” Paul starts with gratitude. Paul, who is away from these people he loves, is writing to them to encourage them; he has caused great suffering upon others in his life, and he will know great suffering. And yet he starts with gratitude.
Today, we are kicking off the 2021 Annual Giving Campaign. It is titled Sheltering St. Thomas: Giving in Gratitude, and it is our hope that this campaign will be a love-letter to you, this church, about all the ways we are grateful for each other. We want to focus on gratitude as a spiritual practice and to invite everyone to tap into your own gratitude for the mission and ministry of St. Thomas—whether that is gratitude for the past, the present, or the good things that we know are to come in the future. Beginning today and continuing through November 22nd, you will hear reflections from different parishioners on social media and our website right after this service. (We’ll also send out the links in our weekly emails.) Today, you will hear from our Senior Warden and his wife about the gratitude for St. Thomas in this present impermanent moment and in the past. After you listen to them, I invite you to begin reflecting on your own gratitude for the mission and ministry of this church.
This past week, I discovered a prayer written by Ted Loder in his book Guerrillas of Grace. I’ll read the whole prayer through and then share with you the line that especially struck me.
I Need to Breathe Deeply – Oct. 14, 2020
Eternal Friend,
grant me an ease
to breathe deeply of this moment,
this light,
this miracle of now.
Beneath the din and fury
of great movements
and harsh news
and urgent crises,
make me attentive still
to good news,
to small occasions,
and the grace of what is possible
for me to be,
to do,
to give,
to receive,
that I may miss neither my neighbor’s gift
nor my enemy’s need.
Precious Lord,
grant me
a sense of humor
that adds perspective to compassion,
gratitude
that adds persistence to courage,
quietness of spirit
that adds irrepressibility to hope,
openness of mind
that adds surprise to joy;
that with gladness of heart
I may link arm and aim
with the One who saw signs of your kingdom
in salt and yeast,
pearls and seeds,
travelers and tax collectors,
sowers and harlots,
foreigners and fishermen,
and open my eyes with these signs
and my ears with the summons
to follow to something more
of justice and joy.i.
This week, I invite you to join me in looking out for your “gratitude that adds persistence to courage” and to pay attention to the good in your life and in the world around you.
i. https://inwardoutward.org/i-need-to-breathe-deeply-oct-14-2020/—Ted Loder, Guerrillas of Grace
Sunday, October 11, 2020
19th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 23A
19th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 23A
October 11, 2020
Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been listening to an audiobook that is cleverly titled: Mistakes Were Made (But Not By Me). The book is written by two social psychologists, and it reflects on the concept of cognitive dissonance or why is it so hard for us to admit when we are wrong.
As I was driving home this week listening to the book, I was struck by a section where the authors talk about the social phenomenon of “us versus them.” The authors write, “Us is the most fundamental social category in the brain’s organizing system, and the concept is hardwired.” “As soon as people have created a category called us…they invariably perceive everybody who isn’t in it as not-us. The specific content of us can change in a flash: It’s us sensible Midwesterners against you flashy coastal types; it’s us Prius owners against you gas-guzzling SUV owners; it’s us Boston Red Sox fans against you Los Angeles Angels fans (to pick a random example that happens to describe your two authors during baseball season.) ‘Us-ness’ can be manufactured in a minute in a laboratory, as [one scientist] and his colleagues demonstrated in a classic experiment with British schoolboys.”
In the experiment, the scientist showed the boys slides with varying numbers of dots on them. He asked them to guess how many dots on each slide, and then he arbitrarily told the boys that some were over-estimators and others that others were under-estimators. He then sent the boys off to work on another task where they were able to give points to other boys identified as over-estimators and under-estimators. Although each boy worked alone in his cubicle, almost every single one assigned more points to the boys he thought were like him, an over-estimator or an under-estimator. As the boys emerged from their cubicles, the other kids asked ‘Which one were you?’ and they would cheer for the ones like them and boo for those who were not. The authors conclude by talking about the importance of belonging. “Without feeling attached to groups that give our lives meaning, identity, and purpose, we would suffer the intolerable sensation that we were loose marbles rattling around in a random universe. Therefore, we will do what it takes to preserve these attachments…When things are going well, most of us feel pretty tolerant of other cultures and religions…but when we are angry, anxious or threatened, our blind spots are automatically activated. We have the human qualities of intelligence and deep emotions, but they are dumb, they are crybabies, they don’t know the meaning of love, shame, grief, or remorse.”i
Our readings are rife with these “us versus them” divisions today. In the Philippians reading we see a conflict between two key women in the Christian community in Phillipi. Paul asks his loyal companion to help Euodia and Sytyche to resolve their differences, and he asks the women to move beyond us versus them to “be of the same mind in the Lord.”
The gospel reading for today shows us the third parable of three in Matthew’s gospel that Jesus tells after he has ridden triumphantly into Jerusalem, driven the money changers and those who are selling animals out of the temple, and is asked by the chief priests and the elders by what authority he is doing this. Over two chapters in the Matthew’s gospel, we see the chief priests and elders digging in deeper and deeper to an us versus them mentality when it comes to the religious elite versus Jesus and his rag tag band of followers. And it is after the conclusion of today’s parable that the chief priests and elders determine that Jesus has to die.
Also important is the context of the Matthean community. Matthew is writing to a primarily Jewish audience after the Romans have besieged Jerusalem and destroyed the temple, further solidifying the us versus them of victims and their foreign oppressors.
I’ve preached at least 3 other sermons on this parable and in each one, I found a different way to deal with this violent, horrible story. And I just don’t have it in me to try to make sense of it this year in the midst of all that we are living through. But here is what I do know, what is at the heart of my faith, what I understand is the meaning of Jesus’s death and resurrection, why people flocked to hear his message and why his rag-tag followers became the Christian church and movement that would change the world. Jesus’s life, his death, and his resurrection all show that it’s not about us versus them. Jesus’s life, his death, and his resurrection all show that there is only us.
There is only us.
No matter what the powers and principalities of this world may try to tempt us into believing. No matter what our own biases and blind spots encourage us to think in order to preserve our egos or our sense of belonging. No matter what. There is only us. It’s all us.
Those of us who are followers and disciples of Jesus are called to deal with our own stuff so that we can live more fully into this truth. There is only us.
But how do we do this, especially now? How do we live as if there is only us in a nation so deeply divided? Paul suggests that we do three things—we rejoice and give thanks for what is good, we allow our natural gentleness to shine through, and we pray.
The authors of the book write about the “Shimon Peres solution” which has to do with examining two dissonant thoughts and keeping them separate rather than internalizing one over the other to further our bias. Peres, Israel’s former prime minister, was angered by his friend Ronald Reagan’s visit to a cemetery in Bitburg, Germany, where members of the SS were buried. When asked how he felt about Reagan’s decision to go there, Peres could have chosen to either throw out the friendship in anger, or he could have made excuses for his friend, but he did neither. Instead he said, “When a friend makes a mistake, the friend remains a friend, and the mistake remains a mistake.” “Peres’s message conveys the importance of staying with the dissonance, avoiding easy knee-jerk responses, and asking ourselves, Why am I believing this? Why am I behaving this way? Have I thought it through or am I simply taking a short cut, following the party line, or justifying the effort I put in to join the group?”ii
Your invitation this week is to pay attention to when you fall into us versus them thinking—whether it is about individuals, people you know or strangers, or about whole groups. When you find yourself falling into this us versus them thinking, then I invite you to practice a prayer activity that I’ve been using during this past week. It has helped me to remember that in and through Christ, it’s all us; there is only us. My prayer has been when I’ve been angered or tempted to be alienated from a person or group, rather than allowing myself to stay with “Well, they’re just bad or stupid or wrong…” instead I pray: “Jesus died for ______; Jesus rose for ______; Jesus loves ______. There is only us.”
It can work in a number of situations. Jesus died for that guy who just cut me off in traffic; Jesus rose for that guy; Jesus loves that guy. There is only us. You can use it regarding politics both individuals and entire parties: Jesus died for that presidential candidate; Jesus rose for that presidential candidate; Jesus loves that presidential candidate; there is only us. Jesus died for the Democrats; Jesus rose for the Republicans; Jesus loves the Republicans and the Democrats; there is only us.
If that doesn’t work for you, there is a prayer resource available on our website (with hard copies in the chapel) that has helped me because it gives me daily guidance over what to pray for, even when I don’t want to pray for certain people or things.
I’m going to close us with a prayer from that resource. Let us pray. Grant, O God, that your holy and life-giving Spirit may so move every human heart and especially the hearts of the people of this land, that barriers which divide us may crumble, suspicions disappear, and hatreds cease; that our divisions being healed, we may live in justice and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
i. Tervis, Carol and Elliot Arondson. Mistakes were made (but not by me). Revised edition Pp 80-81, 82
ii. Same authors as above. https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2020/07/role-cognitive-dissonance-pandemic/614074/
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