Last Sunday after Pentecost-Christ the King year A

The Rev. Melanie Dickson Lemburg Last Sunday after Pentecost-Christ the King Year A November 26, 2023 A number of years ago, I attended a conference that was put on by TENS—The Episcopal Network for Stewardship. The speaker talked about how our understanding of generosity is deeply connected with our first memories of money and this, in turn is deeply connected with our understanding of who God is. The speaker asked us to recall our first memory of money, to reflect on what it taught us about generosity and how it impacted our understanding of who God is and to share that in our small group setting. My first memory of money began with my paternal grandfather, who also happened to be a Methodist minister. Pop was a growly, gruff, manly-man who was known to be a successful boxer in his youth. My brothers and boy cousins were all slightly terrified of him as he would often growl at them, “Boy, I’m gonna bite your ankles.” And they never really knew if he was serious or not. But I was the first granddaughter, and so I knew him differently. And one day when I was staying with my grandparents, Pop took me in his car to the bank where he opened a savings account in his and my names. (I still have the little bank book that they gave us where we wrote our deposits.) And over a period of time, Pop would save up the quarters that he emptied from his pockets every night; we’d deposit them in our bank account; and after we had saved enough money, we made a withdrawal to buy me a used piano that we could have in our home that I could practice on while I was taking piano lessons. As an adult revisiting this memory, I was struck by the fact that I didn’t have to do much of anything to participate in my grandfather’s generous act of saving up his quarters. I didn’t contribute anything except by riding with him in the car to the bank, and yet, I felt like I was a full-participant in the endeavor of saving quarters to get my piano. This memory gives me a tiny glimpse into what my relationship with God is like. How all I really have to do is (barely) show up, and God invites me to be a full participant in God’s generosity. Today is the last Sunday of the church year, the last Sunday after Pentecost, also known as Christ the King Sunday. It’s also the first Sunday of our church’s annual giving campaign which is titled Generations of Generosity. Eleanor Foster, the senior warden and I, chose this campaign because it is a way to tell the stories of those who have come before us, in our lives of faith and in the life of this congregation, as we approach the conclusion of our centennial year-long celebration. Each week for the next three Sundays, you will be invited to contemplate questions to help you reflect on the generations who have helped nourish and shape your faith, on what it means to live lives of generosity, and to tell those stories as a part of our common life. This will culminate on December 17 with a storytelling event, where we will share a video of many of you sharing your stories about how you have been nurtured by this faith community and your hopes for its present and future. In our gospel reading for today, we have the third in a series of three parables that Matthew’s gospel gives us in Jesus’s final hours. The first parable which we read two weeks ago is the parable of the wise and foolish bridesmaids in which Jesus is inviting us to live a mindful, joyful life. Last week, we had the parable of the three slaves who were given talents by their master and is an invitation by Jesus for us to live a daring, fruitful life. And then this week, we get Jesus’ last public teaching in Matthew’s gospel, the parable of the last judgement, in which Jesus invites us to live a generous, compassionate life. It’s tempting to read this parable as Jesus showing us that we can earn our place in heaven, or that our place in God’s kingdom is a reward for righteous behavior. But notice that the Son of Man says to the sheep, “Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world…” which shows that those who live lives of compassionate generosity are invited to join in the creative work that God has already done, as a free gift from God, an invitation to participate in God’s creative work and in God’s generosity; that when we practice our own compassionate generosity in our dealings with our fellow humans, then we are already active participants in God’s kingdom of eternal life, even here and now. i. Your invitation this week is to consider our questions for small group discussion: What is your first memory of money and how is that connected to your understanding of God? What important lessons have your learned from the members or events of a previous generation at St. Thomas? How has the influence of past generations affected how we have evolved as a congregation? Is the vision for how we live together as the body of Christ changing? In what ways? What stories does our church have that we should preserve and share? What is your vision of this church for future generations? i. https://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/2020/11/16/the-least-of-these-salts-lectionary-commentary-for-reign-of-christ-the-king-sunday

25th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 28A

The Rev. Melanie Dickson Lemburg 25th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 28A November 19, 2023 What kind of life does God want you to live? Or, what does it look like for you to participate in the Kingdom of God right here, right now? Our gospel reading for today is the 2nd in a set of 3 parables in the late chapters of Matthew’s gospel. Jesus has made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. He has taught in the temple, fought with the Jewish religious leaders, and he tells this series of three parables immediately before he once again predicts his death in two days. We heard the first of the three parables last week—the parable of the wise and foolish bridesmaids, who get into a fight about having enough oil in their lamps to light the way of the late-arriving bridegroom. We have our parable for today, about slaves who are entrusted with talents from their master, and then next week, we’ll get the third parable in this series—the parable of the Great Judgement, when people will be separated before the judgement seat of the Son of Man based on how they treated people in extremis. With increasingly more urgency, Jesus is trying to teach his followers and us about what it means to participate in the Kingdom of God here and now. He’s trying to get people to ponder what kind of life God wants each of us to live individually and together as a community. The first parable (from last week-the one about the bridesmaids) shows that God wants us to live a mindful, joyful life. Today’s parable shows us that God wants us to live a daring, fruitful life. And next week’s parable (which, spoiler alert!, is the grand finale) shows us that God wants us to live a generous compassionate life.i. I asked our Wednesday congregation to reflect on a time when they took a risk, stepped out in daring that resulted in a more fruitful spiritual life. And we shared lovely stories about how people stepped out in faith differently to take a risk, how God called them forward in their lives out of their comfort, and how their spiritual lives have been forever shaped by that experience. All of the stories acknowledged, in some way, the vulnerability that their daring, their risk required. Because with the risk of doing something new there is always the very real possibility of failure. Now I’m someone who really doesn’t like to fail. And so what jumps out at me in today’s parable (besides some of the significant problems with the whole scenario of asking slaves who are powerless to step into a role that they haven’t been given clear direction around and haven’t been prepared for and then punishing the one who fails) is just how enslaved to fear the one slave is—how his fear of failure and punishment keeps him from thriving. And then he ends up failing and being punished anyway. A few weeks ago, I went to a conference at Kanuga as a part of my continuing education and formation. But unlike most continuing ed conferences I attend, this one wasn’t church sponsored. It wasn’t on church leadership or conflict or any other helpful tools for my ministry tool-box. This was a purely secular conference that is titled “Life is a Verb Camp.” I signed up because two of my favorite writers—Carrie Newcomer who is a poet and songwriter and poet and essayist Ross Gay—were listed as the keynote speakers. So, I took at fairly safe risk (I mean, it was at Kanuga, so how weird could it be, right?) and I went all by myself. The goal of the gathering is to create an annual, camp-like experience for adults to help nurture courage, creativity, compassion, and community, and, I’m not going to lie, it certainly had its weird moments. But the founder, a writer named Patti Digh told us that she invites poets to be the keynote speakers every year because “poets help us see the world differently.” And I found this to be so very true. There is no way I could have anticipated the gifts I received from this small risk of attending this new, slightly strange gathering. I’ve started writing poetry again. I used to write poetry all the time in my younger years, but the more sermons I wrote, the fewer poems poured forth from me. And with that writing has come a deepening in how I look at the world around me; it has brought a new intentionality to my experiences and encounters and a reflectiveness that requires the slowing down of my spirit. It has definitely been a stretching of my spirit and a deepening in my relationship with God and with others. So, your questions this week to consider are “What kind of life does God want you to live? What does it look like to participate in the Kingdom of God here and now? Reflect on a time that you took a risk, stepped out in daring, that resulted in a more fruitful spiritual life for you. And look for opportunities either this week or into Advent to step out a little in risk, in daring, in faith.” And since I try not to ask you to do things that I’m not willing to do, I’m going to close with a poem that I’ve written recently. It’s about a time when I took a risk here with y’all, and you met me exactly where I needed to be met, and how I saw it transform all of us. An Ode to the Church by Melanie Lemburg She sat curled small on a bench behind the open door of the church. Are you sad, I asked. And she nodded. Would you like a hug? She did. And clung to me like the poor motherless child she was. Would you like more hugs? She nodded. Well, watch this! And I put my faith in my flock filing out of church. Poor Kurt was our first victim. I opened my arms wide and he hugged me, maybe a little reluctantly. Her eyes luminous, she mirrored and hug after hug rained down on her- manna in her wilderness. And suddenly Charlotte stood before us on the arm of her sister. (Charlotte’s super-power is hugging.) Full body-arms pulled tight in a squeeze of delight-enough to lose yourself. We have never been more the church, the bride, the body of Christ, than on that day when we transfigured the holy handshake line into a holy hug line together for the motherless child in each of us. i. Much of this reading of these three parables together was inspired by this week’s Salt Lectionary commentary: https://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/2020/11/9/be-daring-salts-lectionary-commentary-for-twenty-fourth-week-after-pentecost

The Sunday after All Saints' Day 2023

The Sunday after All Saints’ Day The Rev Melanie Dickson Lemburg November 5, 2023 Today, the church is given the option to transfer our observance of All Saints’ Day to the Sunday following, which we are doing. We’ll renew our baptismal vows, because this is one of those Sundays the BCP says are especially appropriate for baptism. We’ll remember the saints and the faithful departed who have influenced our lives or faith. And we’ll name those members of this portion of the body of Christ who have died in the last year in the Eucharistic prayer. Plus, there’s the beatitudes for our gospel—what is known in Matthew’s gospel as Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. It’s a lot of different threads to knit together. A couple of weeks ago, one of our Wednesday congregation reference the beatitudes in her comments for that week, and she said something like, “The beatitudes are the path of our becoming.” (I’ve carried that around with me in my soul, occasionally rubbing my fingers over it like one of those polished rocks with messages on them that you can carry around in your pocket.) The beatitudes are the path of our becoming. It reminds me of a saying that we learned about baptism back in my seminary days. That is “baptism is becoming who you already are.” Baptism is becoming who you already are. We are all of us on this path of becoming together--created by God to be the best version of ourselves. But sometimes the world trips us up. Sometimes we trip over our own feet. The saints are those who walked before us or walk alongside us and inspire us in the different ways that they have grown into their belovedness, in how they continue to become better versions of themselves through their relationship with God. If the beatitudes are the path of our becoming, then what might they have to teach us about how God is calling us to deepen in our faith, to grow further into who God has created us to be? (And who has God created us to be? Each of us is made in the image and likeness of God, created as an outpouring of God’s love and made to share that love with others. You were made in the image and likeness of God. You were created as an outpouring of God’s love, and you were made to share that love with others.) One way that the beatitudes can be translated that may help us unlock the invitation of these so familiar words is to read them as “you are on the right path…” You are on the right path if you mourn, for you will be comforted. You are on the right path if you hunger and thirst for righteousness for you will be filled. You are on the right path if you are merciful, for you will receive mercy. You get the picture. And what if we expanded on what these simple, complex words and ideas capture to try to make them a bit more tangible by writing our own in keeping with the spirit of what Jesus is teaching? You are on the right path if you allow your heart to break wide open at the news of the world and refuse to let it harden back for you will find compassion there. You are on the right path if you don’t allow pain to unmake who you are holding onto the best of yourself for you will find respite. You are on the right path if you question for you will invite (and find) meaning. You are on the right path if you decide that if you will err, you will err toward mercy for you will find mercy in the erring. You are on the right path if you stay in touch with your gratitude even when you are suffering for you will find joy. You are on the right path if you look for peace and lift it up around you for you will embody peace. We’re going to take some time today to contemplate, and I’m going to give you two options on how to think about this. The first option is to continue contemplating this path of becoming that Jesus lays out for us in the beatitudes. What words in the beatitudes capture your attention today? Where might God be inviting you to deepen in your becoming in this moment on your path of faith? Or, you can think about the path of becoming that you have witnessed in one of the saints of the church or in someone whom you love who has entered the communion of the saints or it can even be one of God’s faithful saints who live and walk among us now. What has their path of becoming taught you about the life of faith? How might you be called to emulate that on your own path of faith?