The Twenty-sixth Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 28B

The Very Rev Melanie Dickson Lemburg 26th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 28B November 17, 2024 Years ago, before I went to seminary, I created and organized enrichment programming for senior citizens and adults with mental disabilities at the Stewpot soup kitchen in inner city Jackson, MS. Many of these folks lived in the personal care homes in the area, on small, fixed incomes, and they would get turned out onto the streets during the day with not much to occupy their time. Stewpot gave these folks a place to go, and it was my job to give them something to do. One of these participants was a woman named Cheryl. Cheryl was crazy as a betsy bug. Her favorite thing to do art therapy, and I’d often sit beside her and listen to her talk about all the famous people she knew and how they’d interacted with her life recently (often in really unhealthy ways). One day, Cheryl showed up with a beautiful, gold butterfly necklace. She was clearly proud of her necklace, and I complemented her on it, telling her how pretty it was and how I also liked butterflies. She cocked her head at me for a moment, and then she surprised me by pulling the necklace over her head and wordlessly offering it to me. Well, I was mortified. Here she is with this cherished piece of beauty in an otherwise drab and impoverished life. I was there to help her, and she was trying to give me her necklace. I told her I couldn’t possibly take it, and she became more and more insistent, and in that moment, I realized that she needed to be able to give the necklace to me, and that I needed to be able to accept it. So, I did. Even after all these years, that story reminds me that there’s a strange dance between hope and gratitude, in giving and receiving. We see it in our Old Testament reading for today. Hannah has longed for a child for many, many years. She goes to the temple to pray, and she asks God to grant her a child. But then, get this! In that same prayer, she promises that if God grants her a child, she’s going to turn around and give that child right back to God, raising him as a Nazirite, someone who was dedicated to the service of God, giving him away just as soon as he is weaned. In the midst of her hope, Hannah offers a promise of gratitude in this pledging of her long-awaited child to the service of God. And I can’t help wonder which came first for Hannah, gratitude or hope, giving or receiving? For they are so closely intertwined in her story. For Hannah, the incarnation of her hope becomes her child Samuel, and she willingly and gratefully turns him back over to God. It’s a huge gift that no one even asked of her. When we hope, we acknowledge that we are, in fact, powerless. And at the same time, when we hope, we become active agents in the world. We often think of hope as an emotion, but it’s not; not really. Hope is a cognitive-behavioral process; hope is an action. And it is when we connect with our gratitude, that our hope is further fueled, more deeply inspired. Today, our annual giving campaign is drawing to a close. The theme for this year has been “Rooted in Hope” and the passage we chose to support this is from Jeremiah17:7-8: Blessed are those who trust in the Lord… They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. At the beginning of the campaign, we asked you to consider: What are the ways that the roots of your faith are nourished, and what role does the spiritual community of St. Thomas play in that nourishing? I would also encourage you to think today about hope and gratitude. What are the hopes you can name for your life and for this community? What is that gratitude that you can also name? How are those interconnected? My hope for St. Thomas in the coming year is that we will be a place that creates space for belonging for everyone; that we will nourish and encourage each other in the spreading of the good news, that though the presence of the Holy Spirit, each of us will be transformed, more and more, into the image and likeness of Christ. My hope for St. Thomas is that we will take our discipleship of Jesus seriously, committing to it faithfully in new and exciting ways. I am so grateful for all the ways that we are already doing this work together, and I am eager to see what God has in store for us next! I am grateful for our Wednesday healing service conversations, and for the ways we gather in a circle with kind hands outstretched to pray for each other and the needs of the world. I am grateful for all the glorious music we make together—singing and bells, organ and piano, and so many other ways. I am grateful for wise women who laugh and who invite us to see diminishment not with discouragement but with joy; and I am grateful for people with the gifts of making things more hospitable. And I am grateful for you who show up and get things done. I am grateful for all the ways that we share our joys and our sorrows, for the ways that we teach and learn from each other. I am grateful for our children and grandchildren and all the ways that surprise me and give me hope. I am grateful when we step out and try new things, and I am grateful for tried and tested ways of being community. There is so much that I receive from each and every one of you, and I am so grateful for you and for St. Thomas. The butterfly has long been used as a symbol of the resurrection. For me, it’s also always been a symbol of hope. And when I see them, they spark my gratitude. What are you grateful for here at St. Thomas? What are you being called to give and what are you being called to receive in this next season in the life of the church as a part of your gratitude and as a part of your hope?

The Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 27B

The Very Rev Melanie Dickson Lemburg 25th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 27B November 10, 2024 A letter to Sullins Hughes and Tinsley Watson upon the occasion of their baptisms. Dear Sullins and Tinsley, Happy baptism day, babies! And what a joyful day it is! You are gathered here with your families and your friends, with your church family, and in just a few moments, your parents and godparents will make an important statement on your behalf. As you all stand together before God and this gathered congregation, your parents and godparents will acknowledge that God has created each of you and has claimed you as God’s beloved since even before your births. In your baptism, we are all accepting God’s claim on you as God’s beloved, and we are promising to uphold you in living your life as God’s beloved. We all are promising that just as we try to live into our baptismal covenant, the framework of what living life as God’s beloved looks like, we will teach you to live this way, too: proclaiming the gospel by word and example; seeking and serving Christ in all persons; loving our neighbors as ourselves; striving for justice and peace among all people; respecting the dignity of every human being. It’s not easy living this way, and it’s why we need each other: to offer encouragement, forgiveness, and hope when need it most to continue on this path of faithful living as God’s beloved and disciples of Jesus. Two of our readings offer interesting perspectives on your baptism today, sweet Sullins and sweet Tinsley. In the Old Testament reading of Ruth, Ruth and her mother-in-law Naomi leave Ruth’s home of Moab to journey back to be with Naomi’s people the Israelites. Now Moab and Israel were two neighboring nations who shared the same language, and much of the same history—they were essentially cousin-nations. And throughout much of their existence, they were at war; they did not get along. There was a deep enmity between the two peoples. So for Ruth to leave Moab and journey with Naomi back to Israel was a real challenge. There was a risk that she would not have been welcomed there. Naomi has encouraged Ruth to stay with her own people, but she refuses, and so she travels with Naomi to a place where she is a stranger in a strange land, where people will look down on her because of who she is. In today’s reading, we see Naomi working with Ruth to catch Ruth a husband and to secure the future of these two vulnerable women. The story of Ruth and Naomi is a story that emphasizes the loyalty and fidelity that can be found in familial relationships, and you both know something about being firmly ensconced in a loving, extended family. In fact, each of you bears a name that ties you firmly into the line of your family, even as your names are unique enough to give you space to forge your own paths. Interestingly enough in today’s passage, we see how Ruth and Naomi’s family becomes enlarged even beyond Ruth’s marriage to Boaz, as the women of the neighborhood act as surrogate family for Ruth and Naomi, even going so far as to name Ruth’s child. It’s an important reminder for all of us today that when we become a part of God’s family, our family expands to include all of God’s beloved—even those people we wouldn’t normally choose, those who we might consider to be stranger or even enemy. All are included in the family of God; all have been created as God’s beloved. And together we have so much to offer others, even the stranger, (especially the stranger) as God’s extended family. In our gospel reading for today, we see two parts to this reading. In the first part, Jesus in Mark’s gospel is offering a critique of his own religion—specifically calling out the hypocrisy and the ways that the religious elite take advantage of vulnerable people. He lifts up the widow, who is one of the vulnerable, and points out her generosity as a commendation of generous living and a critique of those who harm her because of their own greed and selfishness. We would do well to be mindful that Jesus’s critique is just as pertinent to Christianity today as it was to the Judaism of his day, as we renew our baptismal covenants today and we see clearly all the ways that we fall short of being faithful followers of Jesus. We are mindful of the ways that we choose ourselves over the needs of others. We remember all the ways that we have been hypocritical in saying one thing with our mouths and doing another with our actions. Jesus gives us the widow today as an image of what faithfulness and what generosity can look like, when we are seeking to serve God over ourselves. The widow can inspire us to ask ourselves the question: What does it mean to live a generous life? What might my life look like if I were to try to live it more generously? Maybe it means giving more to those in need? Maybe it means seeing injustice and working to remedy it? Maybe it means giving people the benefit of the doubt instead of making assumptions? What might my life look like if I were to try to live it more generously? It is the call of the family of God, and it is a question that we, God’s beloved, should wrestle with throughout our lives, and we will help you remember it and wrestle with it as well as you grow here in the life of your faith. You will teach us, Sullins and Tinsley, and we will teach you. And together we will fail, and learn, and grow, and try again, offering forgiveness and hope and the promise of the resurrection life as the family of God’s beloved. I’m so grateful you are joining us! Your sister in Christ, Melanie+ The Big Question this Week: Who are the vulnerable people in the family of God who I need to pay attention to, to open my heart to, to give the benefit of the doubt? How am I being called to live a more generous life?

The Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 25B

The Very Rev Melanie Dickson Lemburg 23rd Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 25B October 27, 2024 This morning, we’re going to engage with the gospel story in way where I will invite you ponder aspects of your own life with some guided questions.i Feel free to close your eyes as you listen, if that is helpful. Bartimaeus is a beggar, blind and alone while surrounded by a sea of people. How are you like Bartimaeus today? What are the things that are keeping you from seeing Jesus? He hears of Jesus and for the first time in a long time, he begins to hope—hope that someone will truly see him, help him, show him a way out of begging toward wholeness and belonging. What tiny bud of hope blooms in you? Bartimaeus calls out to Jesus, “Mercify me!” And the crowd tells him to be quiet; don’t make a scene; know your place. What are the voices who tell you not to change, not to hope? And he almost listens to them, obeys them, not taking the chance. Because sometimes it’s just too painful to hope. What part does your own voice play in your silencing, in the silencing of your hope? But that tiny bud of hope has fully flowered in Bartimaeus and can no longer be ignored, so he calls out again, this time even louder: “Mercify me!” And Jesus stops. And he turns. But Bartimaeus can’t see any of this. And Jesus tells the crowd to call Bartimaeus. The very ones who had held him back, suddenly shift to help him saying: “Take heart! He is calling you!” And in that moment, Bartimaeus has a tremendous choice: to stay there in the safety of his cloak—his blanket, shelter, source of income, his place of home-or to leave it behind so he can answer the Lord’s call. What comforts do you cling to that you think sustain you, that you need to throw off so you can move forward as Jesus calls you to grow, to change, to deepen, to be healed? Where might Jesus be inviting you to step forward, to move toward him in trust, even when you cannot see the path before you? Bartimaeus makes his way to Jesus, and Jesus asks him: “What do you want me to do for you?” What do you want Jesus to do for you? How would you answer him? Bartimaeus doesn’t ask for Jesus to make him not be a beggar anymore; he goes deeper, asking Jesus to “open these eyes, Lord, long closed.”ii What do you need to see differently? What are your impediments to seeing, to trusting? (Or what blocks you from seeing, from trusting?) What lies below the surface of your longing? Dive deep for it, like a shiny penny in the deep end of the pool, your hand outstretched to claim it. Jesus tells Bartimaeus that he can go home now; his faith has made him well; his trust has saved him. Where is the healing, the hope bubbling up from within you? When Bartimaeus regains his sight, he doesn’t go home. Instead he follows Jesus on the way, along the path of discipleship toward Jerusalem and the cross. What new direction will your faithfulness to Jesus lead you into next? i. This is inspired by a reflection titled Choosing Life in the book Finding Jesus, Discovering Self by Caren Goldman and William Dols. ii. This is from a line in David Whyte’s poem “The Opening of Eyes.”

The Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 23B

The Very Rev Melanie Dickson Lemburg 21st Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 23B October 13, 2024 A letter to Ollie and Ian Hartley upon the occasion of their baptism. Dear Ollie and Ian, Today is a big day in your lives and in the life of this church; it is the day that you are being baptized. Your dad tells me that ever since you first attended St. Thomas, you have known that this is your church, and I think that just as you’ve known you belong here, we’ve known that, too. And today, that becomes official! The other day, we met and talked about baptism, and I told you some really important things that I’m going to say again here today so that you can remember them, and we can all help you remember. Before you boys were born (9 and 6 years ago), God created you and made you good. God has loved you since even before you were born, and God has said of each of you, “you are my beloved.” You are and always will be God’s beloved, and nothing can change that. Today, all of us together are saying along with you: Yes! Ollie and Ian are God’s beloved! (And y’all are saying it too: Yes! I am God’s beloved!) You are saying that you want to try to live your lives as God’s beloved. Your family is saying that they will help you live your lives as God’s beloved. And we your church are saying that we will help you live as God’s beloved. It’s wonderful being God’s beloved, but it’s not easy. That’s why we need each other so much. We help each other remember what it means to live as God’s beloved, and we encourage each other to do that. Living as God’s beloved means that we treat everyone with love, kindness, respect; we work to try to treat other people how we ourselves want to be treated. It means that when we make mistakes and hurt someone, we try to make things right with them. It means that we commit to gathering together regularly for worship and praying together and listening to bible stories and having communion. And it means that we try to share the good news of God’s belovedness with everyone we encounter out in the world beyond this place. You’ve seen some of that already in the lessons you learn in children’s chapel, in Vacation Bible School, and in your friendships with the other children here. We’ll help you and you’ll help us to remember that we are always God’s beloved and this is the heart of what it means to be the Church. You’ve already helped me remember this just this week. When you asked me if you could dunk your whole heads in the baptism font at your baptism, it helped me remember the call to belong to God isn’t always neat and tidy but sometimes is messy and demands our whole body, our whole selves. When you asked me if I thought the church would cheer for you after you are baptized, I thought, well, we certainly should, because how better could we show you how joyful we are about your belonging. Our job today and beyond is to help you remember that you belong to God—and there is absolutely nothing that can ever change that. From this day forward, you will be “marked as Christ’s own forever.” We see the truth of this in our readings for today—when Job has lost absolutely everything, Job still belongs to God; God is with Job even when Job can’t feel God. When the young man comes to Jesus, eager to prove himself, telling Jesus he already follows all of the commandments, Mark tells us Jesus looks at the man and loves him, and then tells him to go sell all that he owns and follow Jesus. Jesus is reminding the young man that no matter what he might give up or lose, nothing can change the fact that he is beloved of God. That is essence of what it means to follow Jesus. And so, Ian and Ollie, yes we will cheer today after you are baptized. And we’ll cheer for you and support you all along the way, just as you will do for us. Welcome to the family of God! Your Sister in Christ, Melanie+ The Big Question this Week: Imagine what it might be like if you gave away or lost your income, insurance, savings, home, and possessions. Who would you still be? What would you have left? How might this imagining invite you to see your life, your worth, and your relationship with God differently? Or think about a time in your life when you suffered a life-changing loss (relationship, job, person, possessions). And think about the questions above in light of that experience.

The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 21B

The Very Rev Melanie Dickson Lemburg 19th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 21B September 29, 2024 Once upon a time there were two neighbors who had adjoining farms. They were good neighbors. Members of their families had married over the years, and they’d all had a good relationship. They tended to lean the same way politically and they had shared the border between their farms peacefully for over half a century. One day Randolf visited his neighbor Floyd’s farm and thought he recognized one of his pigs among Floyd’s. Randolf convinced himself that Floyd must have stolen his pig, and no one could convince him differently. So Randolf complained to the authorities, and they organized a trial. In order to be fair, the judge appointed the jury to be equal parts from each family-six from Randolf’s and six from Floyd’s. The great surprise came when one of Randolf’s family members decided against him, tipping the jury in favor of Floyd’s claim that the pig had always been his. Randolf seemed to accept the results, although it must have been a humiliating experience, and life went on. A year and a half later two of Randolf’s nephews got into a fight with one of the trial witnesses who had testified against Randolf, and they beat the man to death. “Over the course of the next decade the two families were at war; there was vicious stabbing, a string of vigilante shootings, posse raids, and a Supreme Court case. A house was burned to the ground. A man was hanged. Women were beaten. All told about 80 different people got drawn into the feud across the region.” This is the story of the infamous dispute between the Hatfields and the McCoys on the border between Kentucky and West Virginia. And it is a quintessential example of how regular people can get drawn into the forces of high conflict that are very difficult to escape. One of the key aspects of high conflict is the invisible force that encourages us as humans to sort ourselves into groups or categories. This is actually a biological imperative that has been necessary for our survival as a species, this impulse to sort into groups can be both helpful and harmful. It is helpful in its encouraging us to protect the other members of our group. It is harmful in that it nudges us into an us versus them mindset, collapsing complexity. We see these forces at work in three of our readings for today—the Old Testament reading of Esther, the Psalm, and the gospel. The book of Esther reads like a soap-opera. “It tells the story of Esther who becomes Queen in Persia after she wins a beauty pageant that the king puts on (after having set aside his previous wife who refused to show off her beauty at his request). Esther, who is a Hebrew, follows the counsel of her uncle and guardian Mordechi, and keeps her faith a secret from her new husband. Meanwhile, political machinations unfold between Haman, the king’s right-hand man and Esther’s uncle. When Mordechi refuses to pay homage to Haman because of his faith, Haman hatches a plot to kill all the Hebrew people in Persia. In an epic plot twist, which we see today, Esther orchestrates the salvation of her uncle and her people and ensures the assassination of the dastardly Haman.” It’s a classic us-versus-them, good-versus-evil conflict in which the underdogs are saved, and the bad guy with all the power gets his comeuppance. And then there’s the psalm. Do I need to even say anything about the pslam? It’s all about how God has protected God’s people from their enemies, siding against the enemies in their us-versus-them conflict. Our gospel reading for today is a continuation of Mark’s gospel that we’ve been reading over the past few weeks. This week picks up right after last week, when the disciples have been arguing about who is the greatest among them, and Jesus takes a little child into his arms and tells them they must all be like the little child. When today’s reading begins, we can assume that the little child is still sitting there in Jesus’s arms, as the disciples begin to complain that they have seen someone doing deeds of power in Jesus’ name who was not one of his followers. The disciples are leaning into their group as Jesus’s in-crowd, falling into the trap that we all fall into, but Jesus’ flips it all upside down by responding that “whoever is not against us is for us.” Ok, that’s not what they were expecting. Isn’t the line supposed to be “whoever’s not for us is against us?” That helps with the clearly defined lines between us and them; it makes things so much simpler to be able to identify who’s in our group and who isn’t. Whoever isn’t against us is for us? Well, how on earth are we supposed to draw lines with that? But Jesus pushes his disciples and us even beyond that, emphasizing that a key aspect of discipleship is how we keep or make peace. It can be overwhelming to think about keeping or making peace once we find ourselves in a high conflict situation. It doesn’t even have to be a Hatfield/McCoy type feud. It can be overwhelming to think about how to make peace even in the midst of ordinary life, in the midst of our current election year with all of its dramatic polarization. Can you think of a time when you found yourself in a polarized or intractable situation? How was it resolved? Was it peaceful? What could a peaceful resolution have looked like? So many times, in the midst of disagreements, when we find someone we care about on the “other side,” it’s easier to say, well, let’s just agree to disagree. And while that may preserve the relationship, it does not really promote true peace. It (maybe) allows us to stay on our own sides and be friends across the fence, but it does nothing to shift the forces that work to drive us apart. So what, then, can we do? Well, one of the first things that we can do is to pay attention to a lesson from this trying weekend, as we have watched and (to some degree) experienced how Hurricane Helene has devastated whole communities across the southeast. We can remember our common humanity. There’s nothing like a disaster that can bring people together. Is there a way that we can put aside our differences right now and find a way to work together as humans? Other things that we can do is to work to bring complexity back into the equation. Embrace curiosity. Resist caricatures. Look below the surface of what is being presented to what may be going on. Ask questions and really listen to the answers. Assume nothing. This week, I invite you to think about those places in your life where you have drawn lines between “us” and “them.” Ask God to help you to begin to be curious about those divisions and to help you to begin to discern a way forward that leads to peace for you and others.

17th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 19B

The Very Rev Melanie Dickson Lemburg 17th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 19B September 15, 2024 I’m currently reading the book High Conflict: Why We Get Trapped and How We Get Out by Amanda Ripley. In the book, Ripley distinguishes between healthy conflict, which we all need-like the warmth of fire—to grow and change, and high conflict which is a system in which participants become entrapped, fully ensnared in a self-perpetuating mentality of good versus evil/right versus wrong. Ripley uses the image of the LaBreya tar pits to talk about high conflict. Scientists have discovered more than three million bones, the remains of thousands of animals (including two thousand saber-toothed tigers) who became trapped in the La Brea Tar pits, which is only one, small, dark lake. Researches believe that thousands of years ago, a large creature like an ancient bison stumbled into the Tar Pits. It quickly became stuck and began making sounds of distress, flailing around and getting more and more stuck. The bison’s distress attracted the attention of predators, like dire wolves a pack of whom came to investigate this easy meal, and then they got stuck. They howled out in their distress, drawing more and more animals to their eventual doom. i Sound like anything you’ve experienced recently? One of the hallmarks of high conflict systems or situations is that people lose the ability to listen to the other side, to employ the necessary practice of curiosity to help get underneath the highly simplified surface issues to below the surface where complexity and story dwell. Our gospel story for today from Mark is a fascinating example of this phenomenon. Jesus and his disciples are on the road-traveling around the Judean countryside. Jesus has been teaching and healing; the Pharisees and the Herodians have pushed back on some of his teachings, arguing with him and then beginning planning how to destroy him. Sides have been chosen; the conflict is high and entrenched. Jesus asks his disciples two questions: who do people say that I am, and who do you say that I am? Peter proclaims Jesus as the Messiah, and Jesus continues on to teach about what being the Messiah entails, predicting his suffering, rejection, death and resurrection. Peter takes Jesus aside and rebukes him. Is it because Peter can’t fathom that such would be the fate of the long promised, long-awaited Messiah? Is it because tensions are rising and Peter can’t fathom this sort of loss of their side/victory by their enemies? Is it because Peter doesn’t want to believe this is the future for his beloved friend and teacher? Whatever the case, Jesus rebukes Peter publicly, and Jesus goes on to teach more to the disciples and all who have gathered about what following him, what true discipleship, entails. It involves a sort of unfurling, of looking outward, an opening up to life beyond our own expectations and desires. Peter is so caught up in his own expectations for Jesus as Messiah that he is unable to listen deeper, to be curious about how Jesus could so willingly embrace his own suffering and death and about the implications for that to which Jesus hints. Our Old Testament reading from Proverbs personifies Wisdom as a woman calling people to listen. She (Wisdom) proclaims that those who listen can often avert disaster, while those who don’t listen often face destructive consequences of not heeding her. And the passage from James for today is all about speaking and about the damage that occurs when we don’t speak wisely and carefully. The book of James is written as a letter, but it’s unclear who the audience or intended community is. It also belongs to the category of Wisdom literature that was wide-spread in the Middle East in that time (the mid-1st century). The book of James emphasizes the main point that faith must be exercised and expressed through good actions. Both the wise, curious listening of Proverbs and the wise, careful speaking of James are aspects of how Jesus calls us to practice discipleship. They are both, in fact, spiritual disciplines or spiritual practices we are called to develop or deepen as people of faith. We talked about listening at our Wednesday healing service this week. One of the members of that congregation shared a saying that she used to teach to nursing students: “Some people listen. Other people wait to talk.” Another, who is a retired librarian, reflected on how the first question people would ask at the library reference desk was never the question that they really wanted an answer to. She learned she had to ask more questions, to be curious, to burrow deeper, peeling back layers and listening beyond what is said to the essence of the exchange. One of the parts of the book High Conflict that I’ve been intrigued by is the data that most of us think we are better listeners than we actually are. We are quick to make assumptions and to apply meanings which are often inaccurate. And the data shows that when people don’t feel like they are being listened to, they stop sharing and what speaking they do share becomes more simplistic and less nuanced. In High Conflict, Amanda Ripley follows the story of attorney and conflict mediator Gary Friedman. Gary worked in a groundbreaking way to bring inter-personal mediation into the practice of law in the 1970’s starting when his friends asked him to mediate their divorce. Gary developed a technique of questioning which he teaches to mediators about how to go deeper into conflict, beyond the surface; he calls this going down the “Why trail.” If he is mediating between a divorcing couple who are fighting over a crockpot, he investigates why the crock pot matters so much. “…Gary might ask the wife, with genuine curiosity, what [the crock pot] means to her. It was from the couple’s wedding registry…it was a shiny version of the one her own parents had used in her childhood home, where as a little girl she could smell a pot roast cooking all Sunday afternoon. She and her husband had not created that home in real life. They didn’t even like to cook, let’s be honest. But she wants the crock pot anyway. Her husband, hearing this, feels a sadness, one he shares with his wife. He admits that he only wanted the crock pot because, well, she seemed to want it so much. This is hard to confess but it comes as a relief. She is the one who wanted the whole divorce, he says, and since he can’t stop the divorce, he supposes he’s trying to make her at least feel some of the pain he’s feeling. They start to see the understory of the crock pot. And that means they can loosen their grip on it. And on other things. They get unstuck, little by little.”ii This way of discipleship, of listening, requires courage and curiosity, a willingness to hold our own perspectives and expectations a little more lightly, being more open to the ways that the Holy Spirit shows up in our lives and invites us to listen. This week, I invite you to think about a time when wisdom was revealed to you by listening? What was that like? What did you learn from it? Pay attention, this week, to the ways you listen and the ways that you speak, and be mindful of how you live out your discipleship of Jesus through wise, curious listening and wise, careful speaking. i. Ripley Amanda. High Conflict. Pp26-27 ii. Ripley, Amanda. High Conflict. Pp35-36

The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 17B

The Very Rev Melanie Dickson Lemburg 15th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 17B September 1, 2024 The other day I was cooking supper and listening to Pandora as I do. (For those of you who are younger than me: yes, I know Spotify is way cooler and so much better. My children have been trying to convert me for years, but I like what I like, and I’m stubborn. So now that we’ve gotten that out of the way. I was listening to Pandora and) They played a song that I hadn’t heard in years and I was captivated: I’ve Just Seen a Face by the Beatles. Y’all know this song? It’s such a happy little song about falling in love. It’s fizzy and optimistic with a little sprinkle of longing. And it made me start thinking about love songs. What makes a good love song? Why do they hold such an appeal for us? Take a minute and think about your favorite love song. I’m sure we could come up with quite a list: My Girl by the Temptations; I say a little prayer by Aretha Franklin or Elvis’ Can’t help falling in love; Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together; Whitney Houston’s I will always love you. Faithfully by Journey and Rick Astley’s Never gonna give you up. For our 90’s babies: My heart will go on by Celine Dion and Crazy in Love by Beyonce’. You get the picture. So what is it that makes a good love song? Love songs help transform the every day into something special, bathed in the glow of love. They are whole-hearted, tender and filled with sweet poignancy. There’s usually a healthy dose of earnest longing and sometimes a quality of playfulness linked with falling in love that is appealing. You might be surprised to realize that one of our scripture readings for today is actually a love song—Song of Solomon. We don’t often get to read from this book on Sunday mornings, so it’s an interesting choice for today’s readings. Song of Solomon (also known as Song of Songs) is a love poem that is written with two voices —a male and female voice-speaking to each other along with a chorus. It is sensual and written in the style of Mid-Eastern love poetry of the time, and it’s an interesting choice to be included in the Old Testament. It’s attributed to Solomon but scholars think it was written long after Solomon in the time after Israel’s exile in Babylon. Over time, scholars have also looked at this book through the lens of allegory, connecting it with the love between God and God’s people and also God and individuals. God loves us like the beloved. I love the lush, garden imagery in this passage and also the aspect of playfulness that is captured—of the beloved leaping like a gazelle, and peeping through the lattice to catch a look at his beloved. Part of this passage is often read at weddings, along with a part from the end of Song of Solomon (chapter 8 verses 6-7): Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If one offered for love all the wealth of one’s house, it would be utterly scorned. So that’s a traditional love song. But what about untraditional loves songs? My husband David and I just celebrated our 21st wedding anniversary last week, and since we were apart on our actual anniversary, he sent me several reels that he’d been cultivating. (Y’all know what reels are, right? Short videos that people make of ordinary things often set to music.) 21 years ago, I would have never thought that short videos could be a love song, and yet they are. Which made me start wondering what are other ways that people show that they love us—these untraditional love songs? (It’s what the writer of James means when he talks about being doers of the word and not just hearers.) Our Wednesday congregation talked about ways they have showed or received love through untraditional ways or love songs like preparing a favorite meal for someone; small acts of kindness; hooking and unhooking a necklace; neighbors who show up and mow your lawn just to be nice; and even travel planning can be an untraditional love song. Can you think of untraditional ways that someone has shown you love or you have offered love recently? And what about God’s love songs for us? An Episcopal priest once wrote that the bible is the love song between God and humanity and I agree with that, and I also believe that God sings traditional and untraditional loves songs to us all the time- because we are God’s beloved who God longs to be in deeper relationship with. In fact, loving relationship is at the very heart of God. As our presiding bishop often says, “if it’s not about love, it’s not about God.” It’s part of the critique of Jesus for the Pharisees in today’s gospel reading for today that holds equally true for us as well—that the call of belovedness is for our hearts to be close to God and our actions reflect that; and when our hearts are far from God, then our actions reflect that too—in the evil intentions that he lists. And because it is always easier to act in love when we are secure in love, it’s important for us to pay attention to the ways that God loves us, the love songs that God sings to us in expected and unexpected ways. Expected love songs could come in the form of worship, singing, receiving (or giving) communion. Being in nature can also be how we receive an expected or traditional love song from God. And there are also times when God sneaks up on us or taps us on the shoulder in invitation to pay attention: times when God offers healing, or in other peoples’ kindness, in friendship or in unexpected warm welcome. When in doubt for what to look for, look for the places that playfulness peeps into your life. Your invitation this week is to look for love songs in your life. What is your favorite love song? What is it about it that makes it a good love song? What are some untraditional love songs (that don’t even have to be songs) that speak to you of love or ways you have received love from others in an unexpected way? What are some ways that you have received a love song from God lately? Pay attention to the ways that God sings to you in and through your life and the world around you.