Thursday, August 24, 2023
13th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 16A
13th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 16A
August 27, 2023
I’ve been listening to and thinking about a song all week. Now before I tell you the name of the song and why it’s been inspiring me, I need to offer you a disclaimer. There are some issues, some controversy around this artist, and the song itself also has some profanity in it, so it is NSFW (y’all know what that means?—"not suitable for work”) and it’s definitely NSFC (“not suitable for church”) or NSFDAWYK (that’s “not suitable for driving around with your kids”). Ok, so you’ve been warned.
The song is titled Esther, Ruth, and Rahab, and it’s all about how the singer attended a church as a child where only the men could speak in church. The singer found inspiration in the stories they found of the women of the Bible—Esther, Ruth, and Rahab-and others. It’s actually the chorus that’s been stuck in my head all week:
“Castaways who outwitted and outplayed
An immigrant ancestor to the incarnate divine
Everyone has a star that lights their way
We see our paths by someone else's shine
Esther, Ruth, and Rahab, they were mine.” i
It’s definitely a “girl-power” song, and y’all know I love me some girl-power! What has captivated me about this chorus this week is thinking about these people who have been the stars that have lit my own way, how I have seen my own spiritual path as a result of the shine of someone else.
We see this effect playing out in our Old Testament reading from Exodus today. But first, here’s some context. We’ve just fast forwarded in time from last week. You’ll remember last week that we were witnessing a happy reunion between Joseph and his brothers in Egypt. Jospeh had been sold into slavery in Egypt; he’d been falsely imprisoned and then discovered by Pharoah because he had a God-given gift of interpreting dreams. Joseph successfully interpreted Pharoah’s dream that there would be 7 years of plenty followed by 7 years of famine in the land, so Pharoah promoted Joseph to his right hand man, and Jospeh saw Egypt through the famine. His dad, his brothers, and all their families joined him in Egypt, and time passed.
Exodus starts with the recognition that this family has now grown into an entire people, and rulers of Egypt have forgotten the significant role that Jospeh played in their history. This new king (who isn’t even named and is even scarcely referred to as Pharoah) starts getting anxious, paranoid, and afraid, and so he starts making decrees which further deepen his adversarial relationship with the Hebrew people. Eventually, he decrees that all Hebrew males who are born must be thrown into the Nile River. (While we’re having our “girl-power” moment together, can we just notice the significance that only the two Hebrew midwives--Shiphrah and Puah—are named in this beginning chapter of Exodus, which in Hebrew literally means the book of names. And these women quietly work to defy Pharoah’s order to kill all the male Hebrew children.)
Then our story reveals that a male Hebrew baby has been born, and his mother hides him for three months. But then she makes him a basket (literally an ark—like the same word as in Noah and the ark), and she sends him with his sister in his little baby ark to the Nile River. The sister, who we later learn is named Miriam, waits and watches and then strategically places her baby brother into the water where he will be found and adopted by Pharoah’s daughter (who also decides to defy her dad’s decree about killing all the male Hebrew children). The baby’s sister does some wheeling and dealing and makes it so her mom can serve as nurse for her brother, and eventually, the baby is named Moses which refers to his being drawn out of the water. (Miriam’s name, by the way, means “rebellion”.)
I’ve really appreciated Miriam’s big-sister energy in our reading for this week. For the first time, I’ve realized that without Miriam, there wouldn’t have been a Moses. Miriam’s courage and ingenuity are part of what helped set Moses on his path as the leader of the Hebrew people out of their slavery in Egypt and into the promised land. And it’s also important to note that Miriam is right there beside Moses and their brother Aaron as they lead the people out of Egypt, and Miriam is a prophet in her own right. One of the oldest pieces of scripture in our whole bible is Miriam’s song that she sings right after the parting of the Red Sea. So Miriam has her own gifts, her own relationship with God, and she also uses her gifts to shine the light on the path of Moses so he can become who God is calling him to be.
Can you think of someone in your life who has done this for you? Who has shared their gifts to help light your path for you, who has thrown some fabulous big-sister energy your way when you have needed it? I think it’s important for us to name them right now, so when I count to three, I want you to say the name (or names) of someone who has helped shine a light on your path in the faith. Ready? 1, 2, 3:____________.
It’s really the essential call of discipleship, isn’t it? We aren’t in this faith business, doing this faith thing just for our own spiritual well-being, right? We do this together, and we are called to do this for each other—this shining of our own light on someone else’s path to help them find their way and who God has created them to be.
We are also called as a church to try to shine the light on the paths of as many others outside our doors as we can. I’ve really appreciated getting to hear more about the work that the women of the St. Martha’s Guild have done in creating a Zen Den, a mindfulness room, at the Chatham Juvenile Court. This is a healing and nurturing space for the people who work at the court and who come face to face with horrible things and trauma every day. Our ladies offered their gift of making things beautiful as a way to shine the light on the path of those who work in the Juvenile Court system to give them strength and courage to keep doing this important work in our community. What other unusual ways might the Holy Spirit be calling us as a community of faith to shine our light on the paths of others in Savannah, Chatham County or beyond?
Your invitation is to be on the lookout for ways that you can shine your light for someone else to help light their path in the faith. How are you being called to share some big-sister energy with someone else this week?
“Castaways who outwitted and outplayed
An immigrant ancestor to the incarnate divine
Everyone has a star that lights their way
We see our paths by someone else's shine
Esther, Ruth, and Rahab, they were mine.”
i. https://lyrnow.com/1600515
Friday, August 11, 2023
11th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 14A
11th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 14A
August 13, 2023
11th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 14A
August 13, 2023
This past week, I came across a story with art by one of my favorite artist families—the Andreas family. Their studio is called StoryPeople. The story is titled “Deep End” and here are the words: “I used to believe if I prepared hard enough and long enough, I would be ready when I needed to be. But now I think the closest any of us really get to being ready is feeling not ready and then doing it anyway.” The image that accompanies the story is of a person stretching an arm higher than is comfortable with a ball of energy shining from their center.
I’ve been thinking of this piece of art all week as I’ve been pondering the story of Peter’s attempt to walk on water that our gospel reading gives us this week. What on earth possesses passionate, impetuous Peter to inspire him to get out of the relative safety of a boat on an already storm-tossed sea and attempt to join Jesus out walking on the water? What is it that possesses any of us to take risks in our lives or in our lives of faith?
Our reading from Matthew this week is especially interesting to me, not just for this risk that Peter takes, but because it shows growth in Peter and in the rest of the disciples in their faith in Jesus. This is actually the second time in Matthews’ gospel when Jesus is with the disciples in the midst of a storm on the sea. In the first story, Jesus is present in the boat with the disciples. (This is in Matthew 8:23-27.) Jesus falls asleep in the boat, and a storm blows up. The disciples start to panic, wake Jesus up saying, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!” Jesus chastises the disciples saying, “Why are you afraid, you of little faith?” and then he gets up, rebukes the winds and the sea, and everything suddenly becomes calm. The disciples’ response is amazement, and they say, “What sort of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?”
In today’s reading, Jesus has sent the disciples on ahead in the boat to the other side of the lake, while he goes up the mountain alone to pray. A storm blows up, and Jesus walks across the water to join the disciples in the boat. Interestingly enough, the disciples don’t seem to be freaking out in this storm like before. It’s only seeing Jesus walking across the top of the water to them in the midst of the storm that really freaks them out. Jesus speaks to them, assuring them that it is he, and Peter decides at that point that he needs to get out of the boat to join Jesus walking out on the water (because, why not?). Jesus seems to agree with Peter’s plan, and Peter is doing ok at first, until he remembers the storm blowing all around him. He becomes frightened, and then he begins to sink. Jesus wastes no time rescuing him and saying again, “You of little faith” and asking “why did you doubt?” But then, listen to what happens! The two get into the boat, the wind ceases, and the disciples in the boat worship Jesus proclaiming, “Truly you are the Son of God.” This is quite a different response to the first story, where they basically say, “who is this guy?”
I can’t help but wonder if Peter’s risk and stretching and willingness to get out of the safety of the boat didn’t help inspire the other disciples to finally recognize Jesus for who he really is—the Son of God.
Can you think of a time when someone else’s risk or stretching in their own faith helped inspire your faith or helped you grow deeper in your relationship with God? I know that your courage inspires me all the time and makes me want to be more courageous, too. It’s one of the gifts of Christian community. When we walk closely together, we see the ways that each of us grows in faith, and it can inspire us, challenge us to stretch, to take our own risks and to grow in our own ways, jumping off into the deep end even when we don’t always feel prepared.
This fall, we’ve got plans to do some stretching here at St. Thomas. We’re going to start a Children’s Chapel program for kids in K-5th grades. (Older kids are welcome to join us as helpers if they want.) It’s time we tried something different for Children’s formation, and so we are committing to do this for a year to see how it does. We are so committed to this, in fact, that the two clergy are going to take turns, with one of us being in children’s chapel every week with the kids. So we are committing some energy and some resources to this to try to help it succeed. It’s definitely a risk, a stretch, for each of us. I’ve never done children’s chapel before, so we’ll see if this old dog can learn some new tricks. Hopefully our risk will inspire others to join us in this. For it to be successful, we need the parents to bring the kids (‘cause it ain’t children’s chapel without children), and I’m going to be asking our young families to make a commitment to regular church attendance while we try to get this off the ground. We’ve already got some volunteers who are willing to step up and help us in this endeavor. How else might this risk, this stretching, inspire us as the people of faith in this place?
This past week, I finished reading the book How We Learn to Be Brave: Decisive Moments in Life and Faith by Bishop Mariann Budde, the Bishop of Washington D.C. Bishop Budde writes all about the times in her life when she has been inspired to take risks, to get out of the relative safety of the boat. She also acknowledges that sometimes, it is not our choice to get out of the boat; sometimes, the storms of life toss us out into the water, ready or not, and it’s up to us to figure out where we go from there. In her final chapter, she writes about the importance of perseverance and she writes about how perseverance in prayer needs to be joined in us with a commitment to mindfulness and a willingness to learn some basic spiritual skills. If we don’t have mindfulness and spiritual skills coupled with our perseverance, she writes, “We fall pray, in the words of the late Harvard Chaplain Peter Gomes ‘to a false and phony version of the Christian faith that suggests that by our faith or our prayers we will be spared the burdens of life. Thus perseverance in prayer isn’t just about doing it more, but allowing our hearts to be stretched by the trials and struggles of life so that our capacity for love and forgiveness grows, as well as what we are willing to endure for the sake of love.” ii. Perhaps you find yourself outside the boat against your will. What might this allowing your heart to be stretched by the trials and struggles of life look like for you in this moment?
Your invitation this week is to ponder how you might be called to stretch a bit, to take some risk in your life of faith? Or, if you find yourself in the midst of a trial or a challenge (tossed out of the boat, perhaps against your will) then your invitation is to persevere in prayer so that your heart may be stretched by the trials and struggles of life so that your capacity for love and forgiveness grows. Where might Jesus be inviting you to get out of the boat and do the seemingly impossible with him at your side?
i. https://www.storypeople.com/products/deep-end-prints?variant=32107322081391
ii. Budde, Mariann. How We Learn to Be Brave: Decisive Moments in Life and Faith. Avery: New York, 2023, p 175.
Sunday, August 6, 2023
The Transfiguration-2023
The Feast of the Transfiguration
August 6, 2023
A letter to Maisey Elizabeth Liipfert upon the occasion of her baptism.
Dear Maisey,
Today is a very special day to be baptized. It is the feast of the Transfiguration, a day that we celebrate on a Sunday only every six years. Today we remember the day that Jesus took his closest disciples up to the top of a mountain and they saw his face shining with God’s glory. Today we remember the voice that speaks from the clouds to Jesus and to all, proclaiming Jesus as God’s Chosen or as God’s beloved. Today in your baptism, your parents and godparents are making promises to God and to the Church, your faith community about how they want to raise you in the Christian faith, and we, the people of God, are making promises to you that we will be faithful companions to you along the way. Sweet Maisey, you have already been claimed by God as God’s beloved since even before your birth. Today your parents and godparents and all of us gather around you to accept your belovedness on your behalf, and we promise to teach you what it means to live as God’s beloved throughout the course of your life.
So, what does it mean to be beloved? I watched you a couple of weeks ago shine in your own little baby belovedness as your mamma danced with you in church while the VBS children sang “This little light of mine.” So, I know that you grow up knowing what it means to be beloved. It is that sense of pure belonging, of being cherished, of long-held longings being fulfilled, of knowing that you are not alone. Belovedness is tasted when we discover unexpected gifts or delights, when we can see the synchronistic weavings of the Holy Spirit in our lives and in the world around us.
As we go through this sometimes hard and weary world, it is easy to lose sight of our belovedness. And it’s when we lose sight of it, that we live in ways that are not pleasing to the heart of God. We treat each other badly; we are unkind or disinterested in anything or anyone beyond ourselves; we don’t live up to our own capacity for sharing our belovedness with the world, shining a light of the good news of God’s love beyond ourselves to those we encounter.
The Christian faith and life is all about being grounded in our own belovedness so we can share that with others. It’s why we come here, week after week, because we need each other to help us remember that each one of us is God’s beloved. We are fed from God’s table so that Christ’s body and blood can give us a belovedness-infusion every week, and we are sent out into the world to remind everyone whom we encounter that they, too, are claimed by God as God’s beloved.
As we renew our baptismal vows today alongside your parents and godparents, Maisey, we remember that we, too, have said “yes” to God’s call and claim of each one of us as God’s beloved. We are confirmed and strengthened in that belovedness today. And we promise that as you grow, we will help you learn and remember it too.
Your sister in Christ,
Melanie+
Thursday, August 3, 2023
The 9th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 12A
The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 12A
July 30, 2023
I read a quote this week about Jesus’s parables in this week’s gospel reading from the Episcopal priest Barbara Brown Taylor that I want to share with you. Here is what she writes, “The striking thing about all these images is their essential hiddenness—the mustard seed hidden in the ground, the yeast hidden in the dough, the treasure hidden in the field, the pearl hidden among all the other pearls, the net hidden in the depths of the seas. If the kingdom is like these, then it is not something readily apparent to the eye but something that must be searched for, something just below the surface of things waiting there to be discovered and claimed.”
I love this idea of the kingdom of God lingering just below the surface of the things of our every-day life! (It’s actually the subject of a song by one of my favorite artists Carrie Newcomer titled “Every little bit of it.”)
And interestingly enough, a few weeks ago, before I even knew that this gospel reading was coming up, I started journaling about moments in my own life when I encountered the kingdom of God, and I wrote about these in standard parable form: “The kingdom of God is like a giant fig tree whose owners invite you to come pick figs while they are on vacation. On the way over, you worry about how you will reach the higher branches, and when you get there, you discovered they have left ladders set up underneath to reach the figs on the higher limbs.”
Or from VBS week—“The kingdom of God is like child-sized arms suddenly wrapping around your legs or waist when you are distracted and busy. If you take time to stop and look down, you see a face of joy and love shining up at your and in that instant, you remember who you’ve been created to be.”
Or a random moment of domesticity: “The kingdom of God is like when your teenage children can do something that you can’t do, and they do it willingly and joyfully, and it contributes to the good of the whole family.”
Or “The kingdom of God is like a healing prayer circle made of kind hands and generous hearts and the surprise of the Holy Spirit showing up in heat and light and happy light-headedness.”
We talked about this all at last week’s healing service, and I invited them to write their own parables about when the Kingdom of God has shown up in their lives. Here are some of what they said.
The Kingdom of God is like feeding the kids of VBS from the kitchen and then after all is cleaned up, going out to watch them sing their songs with such joy and life.
The Kingdom of God is like when the light breaks through one of the stained glass windows in the church (which are easy to miss because they are up high), and the light shines in color on the floor.
The Kingdom of God is moving to a new condo and discovering that you have marvelous neighbors who become like your family because we all need each other.
The Kingdom of God is like a trip that you’ve worried about and prayed over that turns out being so much more wonderful than you could have ever imagined.
The Kingdom of God is like my back yard where so many different animals come to be fed: aggressive racoons, slow moving turtles, three black crows, gentle deer, bird-food eating squirrels, cats-both inside and out. It is a reminder of how God is revealed to us in nature and through the peaceable animal kingdom.
The kingdom of God is like a grandparent who will make you your very own cake when you didn’t get a slice of cake at church coffee hour.
Isn’t it marvelous, this understanding that the kingdom of God is all around us, just underneath the surface of things! Would you like to try it?
I’ll give you two or three minutes to think about it and write down your Kingdom of God moment, and then, if you want, we’ll also have some time for you to share it with someone sitting next to you.
Here’s one final one to share with you: The kingdom of God is like a congregation who eagerly writes your homily for you when you’ve been away on vacation!
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