faith

To Make a Difference

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About six weeks ago, I was on vacation in our neighboring state of Wisconsin. I entered into a conversation with an older woman whom I did not know. She asked me where I was from, and I told her “White Bear Lake, Minnesota.” She replied that she had only been to White Bear Lake one time, but that she really liked it. She said that she especially appreciated that somehow we had managed to keep (and these are her words) “the negroes and the Jews out of town.”

As you may imagine, I was a bit taken aback by her words. I didn’t quite know what to say, but not wanting to make the situation even more uncomfortable, I mumbled something lame to the effect that we actually have folks of all stripes in our community and, by golly, we do have a lovely lake.

Since that time, however, I have been internally dealing with the shame I feel regarding my response to this woman’s blatantly racist and anti-semitic statement. Why wasn’t I more bold in expressing my disdain for her words? Why did I, in that moment, choose to respond politely rather than courageously?

We are living in immensely challenging times. On a daily basis, words are being spoken and actions are being taken that directly confront our understanding of what it means to be an American, what this country is all about, even what human decency looks like. It seems to me that there is an assault on the values that followers of Jesus espouse: truth, justice, mercy, compassion, kindness. I don’t know, maybe the attack on these basic Christian values has always been there, just underneath the surface, but my goodness, lately the intensity of the assault has become red hot.

Now, listen, I have been a priest in the church for a long time.  We have folks here at St. John’s who are on all sides of the political spectrum. Our community has people who have opinions about all sorts of things. It’s part of my job to keep the whole kit and caboodle from flying apart. So I know how important tact can be. I know that it’s sometimes the wisest thing to just stay silent and walk away. But I also know that there are other times when truthful words need to be spoken and bold deeds of peace and love need to be taken. And speaking those words and doing those deeds takes guts. 

Jane Goodall, the renowned British primatologist, ethologist, and anthropologist, who died recently once said,  “what you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.” One of the reasons why I continue to be part of the Christian clan is that I believe that the Way of Jesus is a way to make a good difference in this world.  What we say and what we do matters. Together, we have immense power to do much good, to really lean into what we believe about the Kingdom of God.  But to do that, to truly live into the Way of Jesus, we need to be courageous.

So,  I exhort you to be kind but courageous, civil but truthful, friendly but people of integrity. I wish I could go back two weeks and respond differently to that woman whose perception of what we folks here in White Bear Lake are all about. If I could have a do-over, I would inform that woman that in this town, we do, indeed, have a lovely lake, but that we also strive for justice and peace for Jews, for African Americans, for women, for LGBTQ folk, and for all people. I would kindly but directly tell that woman that here in White Bear Lake, we respect the dignity of every human being.

~Art

The Divine What-May-Be

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Over the last couple of months, I have officiated at a number of funerals at St. John’s. Funerals often get me thinking about legacy.  What difference did my life make?  What am I leaving behind for others?  What will I be known for?

Perhaps that was in the mind of Abram in the Old Testament passage that we will hear this coming Sunday at church.  The passage reads as follows:

After this, the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision:

“Do not be afraid, Abram.
  I am your shield,
  your very great reward.”

But Abram said, “Sovereign Lord, what can you give me since I remain childless and the one who will inherit my estate is Eliezer of Damascus?” And Abram said, “You have given me no children; so a servant in my household will be my heir.”

In his response to the “word of the Lord,” Abram expresses a remarkable lack of curiosity and imagination. You see, in his old age, Abram’s primary concern is his legacy, or, to be clear, what he perceives as a lack thereof.  He and Sarai have remained childless, and he thus has no heirs, no blood relation to pass on his possessions and family name. Further, Abram doesn’t seem assured by God’s promise to be his “shield and great reward”. He is so focused on what he does not have that he can’t even begin to imagine what may be.

It is only when “the word of the Lord” responds to Abram’s unfaithful focus on an empty past legacy that Abram begins to understand. God says, 

“a son who is your own flesh and blood will be your heir.” He took him outside and said, “Look up at the sky and count the stars—if indeed you can count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be.”

When considering his legacy, Abram was thinking way too small. Not only does God promise a son of Abram’s own flesh, but much, much more. Indeed, God pledges the legacy of an entire nation. It is when Abram shifts his focus from a disappointing past to a divinely infused future that he is finally and forever “credited with righteousness.”

When we consider our own legacy, I wonder whether we focus on the past or the future. Do we focus on what we have done or on what God will do?  Are we constantly looking at our lives in the rear view mirror or are we straining forward to look through the windshield of our lives to catch a glimpse of what God might do?

Looking forward rather than behind takes discipline, patience, and curiosity. For some, the focus and energy is always on the past. But for the daring, imaginative and faithful few, legacy lies in the divine what-may-be.

~Art 

Being Good, Seeing Good, Doing Good

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The book of Genesis gives us a number of helpful truths about the nature of human beings and our relationship with the rest of creation.  Among those truths are: 

(1) God’s creation is good. 

(2) Human beings are part of that creation and are, first and foremost, good. 

(3) Human beings are given the special job of good stewardship over the rest of creation.

And yet, much of the time, we human beings behave very badly.  Despite overwhelming evidence by nearly all experts in the matter that existential changes are happening in earth’s climate and that those changes are occurring as a result of human activity, many of us resist repenting of our bad behavior.  And many of our leaders resist making the politically unpopular yet clearly necessary decisions to protect the natural world (including us human beings). It can be so discouraging, so disheartening.  

Sometimes, however, we humans do see clearly, accept our call to be good stewards, and actually commit to doing the right thing. Yesterday, (Wednesday, July 23rd) was one of those days.  

In a unanimous decision, the United Nations’ highest court, the International Court of Justice, told wealthy countries they must comply with their international commitments to curb pollution or risk having to pay compensation to nations hard hit by climate change. In an opinion hailed by small island states who are already being hit hard by the changes to our climate, the International Court of Justice said countries must address the “urgent and existential threat” of climate change.

“States must cooperate to achieve concrete emission reduction targets,” Judge Yuji Iwasawa said, adding that failure by countries to comply with the “stringent obligations” placed on them by climate treaties was a breach of international law. The court further said countries were also responsible for the actions of companies under their jurisdiction or control.  Failure to rein in fossil fuel production and subsidies could result in “full reparations to injured states in the form of restitution, compensation and satisfaction.”

From the perspective of one who takes seriously the call of God upon human beings to be good stewards of creation, this judgment is a positive step forward.  It is a recognition that we have behaved poorly and a declaration of repentance. 

There is a difference, however, in seeing the right thing and actually doing the right thing. God commands us to not only see the Way of Love, but also to walk the Way of Love. And as Jesus shows us with his life, walking the Way of Love is almost always hard, and usually requires significant sacrifice.

God has done the work of creating us good.  The International Court of Justice has done the work of seeing good.  Now it’s up to each and all of us to engage the hard part… living more simply and less selfishly, loving our neighbors as we love ourselves.

May our being, our seeing and our doing be aligned with God’s Way of Love.

~Art

It’s Much Harder than Just Forgive and Forget

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One of the themes that the Church traditionally addresses during the season of Lent is reconciliation. Reconciliation is a process whereby humans work out differences and faithfully get on with their lives. Usually, there has been offense or harm caused by one or both parties to the other. Contrition, confession, forgiveness, repentance and reparation are all part of the process of reconciliation. It’s a lot of work.

Reconciliation begins with contrition.  The Collect for Ash Wednesday (and used on other occasions in Lent) states, Almighty and everlasting God, you hate nothing that you have made, and forgive the sins of all those who are penitent: create and make in us new and contrite hearts that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may receive from you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord. At its essence, contrition is a deep sorrow and regret for a broken relationship as well as a heart-felt desire for the relationship to be made whole once again. Contrition is one more gift of the Spirit, and that is why it is something for which we may pray.

Once the desire for a healed relationship is present, sins are confessed both to God and to the offended party. True confession takes real humility as one must come to terms with the fact that there are things that we have done or left undone that truly hurt others. Confession is a blow to the ego. It is a recognition that we’re just not good enough without God to pull off a faithful life.  While confession to God for sins committed is necessary for reconciliation, often confession to the offended party is also essential.

Forgiveness is a tricky one. When one chooses to forgive, one is saying to one’s own soul, “I refuse to allow what somebody has done to me to hold me in chains.” Forgiveness has nothing at all to do with whether the offending party is sorry or whether either person wants the relationship to be healed. It is a deal with one’s own soul.  While there can be forgiveness without reconciliation, there cannot be reconciliation without forgiveness.

Repentance is the commitment and action of changing one’s behavior so that one doesn’t offend anymore.  Again, this is really hard work.  So often, our behaviors are rooted in bad habits that have developed over time. Repentance is about adopting and maturing into a new set of habits that are beneficial to our relationships with other people and with God. Relationships will not be reconciled for long if the same habits which severed the relationships are repeated.

Finally, there is the step of reparation. Reparation consists of concrete actions that the offender takes to make things right with the one offended. Reparation can take many forms, and of course, in many instances, true reparation is impossible. At least a desire and effort at reparation, however, is most often necessary for true reconciliation to ensue.

Listen, it’s not easy. True reconciliation is a heart-wrenching, soul-stretching affair. It is much, much more than simply saying you’re sorry. Forgive and forget is a catchy phrase, but rarely does it work. The hard work of reconciliation, however, is absolutely worth every ounce of effort. Without learning how to be reconciled with God and with other folks, we cannot become the people God dreams us to become. Without reconciliation, we cannot live the abundant lives God yearns for us to live.

~Father Art 

The Unsnuffable Song

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We are living through some tumultuous times. The changes being made by the new presidential administration are being heartily embraced by some and firmly resisted by others, leading to much conflict. This nation’s relationship to other nations in the world seems to have made a significant shift in a new direction. The political strife that we experienced last year during the runup to the election and which many of us had hoped would lighten up this year, just isn’t.  The markets are responding negatively; the stock market is topsy-turvy. As a nation, we are more divided than ever, and it appears we are becoming intensely so with each passing day. 

Wars continue throughout the earth.  While Gaza and Ukraine are on most of our radars, the Geneva Academy cites many more: 6 armed conflicts in Latin America, 7 in Europe, 21 in Asia, 35 in Africa, 45 in the Middle East.  All of this is on top of other huge issues of concern like climate change that fundamentally threatens the very existence of our species and many other on this earth.  And all of this is on top of the personal issues of concern with our families and communities. It’s a lot. Many, many of us are walking around in somewhat of a daze: overwhelmed, anxious, traumatized. If that’s what you’ve been feeling, you’re not alone.

Part of my job as a priest is to try to help folks find the promised peace of God in the midst of tumultuous days. That peace is like a song of love and goodness that has been flowing throughout God’s creation forever. The song is being sung through the first tiny spring flowers that pop up in the most unexpected of places as well as in the oldest of trees that defiantly stand through the cold winter winds.  You can hear the song being sung by the rivers on the North Shore that are raging and crashing beneath thick layers of ice, and I hear it too being sung, much more gently by our own White Bear Lake as I walk by it in the morning. The song is beautiful and, if we still our hearts and minds and lives long enough, we hear it everywhere.

And that song, that song of love and goodness, it’s being sung in us as well. There are all sorts of other noises that are clashing and banging in our lives that may be drowning it out, but the song is there in all of us, nonetheless, waiting to be heard, and waiting to be joined.  You see, our work as human beings isn’t to write the song or even to know all the words. Our work is simply to find the rhythm and get in tune with the song of love and goodness that is already being sung throughout all of creation. 

We get in tune in all sorts of ways, by contemplation, by reading the Bible, by getting out into the natural world, by conversing with others in healthy ways, through engaging in acts of goodness and helpfulness. And we get in tune by coming together, week after week, to share in fellowship and education and service. 

So, if today you are feeling somewhat overwhelmed, anxious, frightened about the affairs of the world or the concerns of your own lovely little life. If today you feel as if you can’t quite muster the energy to join in the song of love and life and goodness.  Take heart. The song will continue to be sung. It cannot be silenced.  And it will be there, sung by others, until we’re able to find ourselves, get in tune and rhythm, and once again start singing as well. So today, take heart, be at peace, do what you can to be loving and good, and listen deeply for the song that cannot be snuffed.

~Art

God’s Tribe: Neither Orange Nor Black

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When I was in elementary school, I was on the black team. You see, it was the practice that, when a child entered the school, they were placed on either the black team or the orange team.  Every child stayed on that team for the entire time that they were at the school.  So, I was on the black team for nine years, from kindergarten to eighth grade. Over the course of a given year, there were numerous athletic and academic competitions pitting the black team against the orange team.  Points were tallied over the course of the year, and flying beneath the American flag on the school flagpole was an orange or a black flag, indicating whichever team was ahead on points. Toward the end of the year, there was a grand athletic field day at which the black team and the orange team competed fiercely against one another. On the last day of school, all points were tallied and one team or the other was declared victorious.

As I look back on those years, I do so with some fondness, but also with concern. I have no doubt that the ones who designed the program did so with the intent of teaching healthy competition and cooperation in a spirit of fun. I believe they achieved their goals but unfortunately, with some unintended consequences. As I reflect on my elementary years, almost all of my friends happened to be on the black team, the same one as I.  How many friendships, I wonder, did I miss out on because I was placed on a different team?  Further, I believe that the system promulgated an “us versus them” mentality with which I have had to contend my entire life. Finally, the black versus orange program that was promoted so heavily in those early years contributed to an unhealthy absorption of the philosophy that competition was to be valued more highly than cooperation and that winning was the ultimate goal. 

If the black versus orange, us versus them, competition versus cooperation way of life were reserved only for our elementary years, that would be lamentable but not tragic.  Because, however, such ways of thinking, acting, and being have infused almost all of our adult human lives, it is nothing short of catastrophic. 

Tribalism is nothing new, of course. It features prominently in all of human history, may be found throughout the entire Bible, and continues in our own lives. The smallest tribal unit would be a biological family, but tribes are also formed on the basis of geographical, racial, economic, and political distinctions as well.  Undeniably, tribalism affords many real benefits for those in the tribe. Protection, emotional support, economic well-being are among many other benefits of being a member of the tribe. But at what cost?

An us versus them way of being almost always leads to violence. The Hebrew Bible is filled with stories of tribalism, and indeed, the ancient Israelites developed a theology based on it. They fervently believed that the God of the universe had chosen them to be God’s special people.  Whoever got in the way was to be opposed if not destroyed. There were certainly occasions when the Hebrew people repented of this fundamentally flawed notion, but even in our own day, we bear witness to the fact that tribalism is alive and well, in the nation of Israel, in our own nation, and in most nations of the world. The impact of rampant tribalism has led to immense suffering, fear, and death. Truly tragic.

While Jesus was born a Jew and, as such, was subject to tribalistic ways of thinking and being, his teachings clearly present a different way. In so many ways, Jesus teaches that the Kingdom of God is neither male nor female, neither Jew nor Gentile, neither rich nor poor, neither us nor them.  Jesus teaches that God is with all and for all, and love is the glue that holds the tribe together. When his disciples are concerned that a certain group of people not associated with Jesus were doing healing works in Jesus’ name, Jesus tells his disciples not to stop them, instructing, “whoever is not against us is for us. (Mark 9:40).” The apostle Paul, echoing the teachings of Jesus, proclaims, “there is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither slave nor free; there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus (Galatians 3:28).”  In other words, all are part of God’s tribe.  All are brothers and sisters, created in love, created for love.  

In the eyes and heart of God, Israel is not first, nor Palestine.  Democrat is not first, nor Republican.  America is not first, nor China.  Christian is not first, nor atheist. All are brothers and sisters.  The holy tribe of God: neither orange nor black.

~Father Art

Finding Ourselves Once Again

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There have been extended periods over the course of the last several years when I have felt disoriented.  Not physically disoriented so much as psychologically, emotionally, even spiritually.  It is the same sort of feeling that I have had when lost in a large city.  Amidst all the noise and commotion, I have found it hard to think. I’ve felt frightened, discouraged, lonely, even sad. 

Perhaps, my current sense of disorientation has resulted from the political chaos in our country.  Perhaps I have felt so turned around because the natural world that I love so much is in such crisis. Maybe I’ve absorbed too much of the legitimate life angst and worry from friends, family, and parishioners. Regardless of the cause, I’ve felt out of sorts, lost.  In the midst of all of this disorientation, I have found myself praying, “Who am I God?” and “Who are you?”.

I wonder if these soul-wrenching prayers of the lost are similar to those prayed by the ancient Israelites in their Babylonian exile. You see, in 587 B.C.E., the Babylonians forced many of the Jewish leaders from their home in Jerusalem into exile. This was such a blow, and the ancient Israelites were forced to reevaluate many of their beliefs about who their God was and what faithfulness to this God looked like. Eventually, the Jewish people were allowed to return to their homeland, and they did so with renewed commitment and a more evolved understanding of their identity as God’s people.

As challenging as this current period of time is, it affords us the opportunity to take stock of who we really believe God is, and by corollary, who we are as well. Is God truly a God of love, and if so, what does it mean for us, as God’s people, to reflect that love in our lives? Is it really true that God cares deeply for the poor, the marginalized, the dispossessed, the outcast, the foreigner?  If so, what does our understanding of who God cares about affect who we care about?  Is it true that God continues to work for justice and peace in the world, and if so, in what ways are we doing the same? If we have a confused notion of who God is, then our understanding of who we are will be distorted as well. 

In the Gospel of John, there’s an account of Jesus speaking to his disciples, giving them a particularly challenging set of teachings.  Upon hearing his words, the Bible says that “many of his disciples said, ‘This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?’… From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.” Specifically addressing the twelve apostles, Jesus asks, “You do not want to leave too, do you?” To this, Peter answers, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” (John 6:60-69)

Peter may have been disoriented about many things, but what he did understand was that Jesus held the key to Peter finding his way again.  Peter recommits to listening closely to the words of Jesus and to faithfully doing what Jesus asked him to do. Peter recommits to watching carefully the actions of Jesus and to imitating those same actions with his own life.

These are, indeed, challenging days for many of us. And yet, it is often when things are most difficult that we are given the best opportunity to evaluate what we really believe and whom we really choose to follow with our lives. Perhaps, these are times when we should reread the teachings of Jesus and recommit to radical lives of love.  By listening to Jesus, by repenting of ways in which our lives are not in accordance with the ways of Jesus, by committing ourselves once again to the Way of Love, and by walking that Way with humility and courage, we will return from our dark and lonely exile and find ourselves once again.

~Father Art

It Matters

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2024 was a chaotic and emotionally challenging year for so many of us in this nation. Being an election year, Americans were subjected to a constant onslaught of campaign speeches and interviews and rallies.  We elected a new president and other leaders in November, and many of us, perhaps most of us, were rather excited at the prospect of saying goodbye to 2024.  

2025, however, has started off just as chaotic and challenging. Despite who you support and where your political leanings may lie, the size and speed of the recent changes to our government has been overwhelming. It’s been hard to keep up with it all, and even well- meaning, good-hearted, community-minded folks have been tempted to just check out until the dust settles.

But we can’t do that because here’s the thing… the Way of Jesus is about love, and love almost always involves staying engaged.  Jesus’ teachings are adamant that truth and justice and compassion and mercy must be not only part of the conversation, but indeed, at the core of our behavior with and toward each other as well. If we, as God’s people, are not asking questions about whether our words, actions, and yes, policies are grounded in love, then we’re missing the point of Jesus’ teachings.  If we, who proclaim love for God are not advocating for and with the most vulnerable, then really, who will? We’ve got to stay in the game and do what we may to ensure truth and justice and real, authentic liberty, especially for the least among us.  We’ve got to keep stepping up to the plate and giving it our best.

On February 12, 1909, that’s what a group of folks did.  They stepped up to the plate.  They stood up for justice and peace and fairness and liberty for all.  They put their skin in the game. On this day in 1909, the NAACP was founded. It was an  interracial American organization created to work for the abolition of segregation and discrimination in housing, education, employment, voting, and transportation. As chaotic and challenging as their days were, those men and women stuck their necks out to oppose racism and ensure African Americans their constitutional rights. It wasn’t perfect.  There were and continue to be lots of ups and downs and plenty of mistakes. But over one hundred years later, these folks are still in the game, doing their best, to make the world a better place.

Now, I know most of you at St. John’s, and I know many of you rather well.  I think that part of the reason that you remain engaged in the work of the church is because you want to make the world a better place.  I truly am so grateful for your good hearts and willing spirits. But here’s the hard truth: the Way of Love is hard work. And it’s never over. And it’s never perfect. And it’s exhausting. And you and I will go to our graves with the job only partially completed.

My friends, the Way of Love that we are walking together may seem small and innocent.  You may feel that what you do as an ambassador for Christ makes no difference.  The work of Jesus that we do together may appear to others as naive or irrelevant. It’s true that you and I perhaps can’t do a whole lot about so much of what is going on in our nation and world right now. All of that is true.

But don’t let that keep you from faithfully walking the Way of Love. By continuing to show up and evaluate what is going on by filtering it through the lens of love, you are doing your part.  By continuing to show up and do whatever you can to be part of a just solution, you are doing your part.  By continuing to show up and stay in the game like those folks who founded the NAACP, you are doing your part.  By continuing to show up, our souls truly are nourished, and maybe, just maybe, the soul of this soul-sick world might become just a little better too.  I know you’re tired, but stay in the game.  Continue to show up.  Continue to speak up.  Continue to do your part for the cause of Love.  It matters.

~Father Art

They Are Us

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A Sermon from January 26, 2025

Imagine, if you will.  A crowd gathers for worship in a traditional setting.  They are following custom mostly, perhaps some come with the expectation that God might really show up this day and speak to them.  Most are there, however, because it’s just what you do.  Holy songs are sung; holy prayers are prayed, holy writings are read. Everything is happening according to script.  A preacher stands and delivers a sermon, an interpretation and application of the scriptures just read.  The sermon is not overly long, but it’s straight forward, to the point. The message is about a loving God, desiring abundance of life and bringing good news of freedom.  

Initially, those present embrace the message: hurray for our God! But then… but then, at the end, the preacher reminds the crowd that the whole point of that good news is mercy and compassion, not just for them, but also for foreigners.  And abruptly, it all begins to sour.  The adoring crowds turn on the preacher.  The preacher gets death threats, and then flees.

Am I, you might be wondering, speaking of the sermon given by Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde this past Tuesday in Washington National Cathedral?  Am I, you might be wondering, speaking about the vitriolic, vicious response to Bishop Budde’s sermon by so many in this troubled nation of ours, including from many religious leaders?  Am I, you may be wondering, referring to the threats of violence that she has received in the days since that sermon?

Nope.  I’m not.

I am speaking about Jesus in this morning’s Gospel of Luke.  He’s preaching in his hometown, in the synagogue. He does what preachers do. He reads the Scripture and interprets it for those particular people in that particular place. And it’s all going so well.  

Now, our lesson from Luke this morning ends conveniently at verse 21. But indulge me for one minute as I read the eight verses that follow.  Because truly what we read this morning can’t be understood properly without taking into consideration those verses as well.  It’s part two of Jesus’ sermon, and truly part one misses the whole point when separated from part 2.  Here it is:

22All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, ‘Is not this Joseph’s son?’ 23He said to them, ‘Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, “Doctor, cure yourself!” And you will say, “Do here also in your home town the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.” ’ 24And he said, ‘Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s home town. 25But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up for three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; 26yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. 27There were also many lepers* in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.’ 28When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. 29They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff.

What happened?  What went wrong? Well, it’s all that business about the widow at Zarephath in Sidon and the leper named Naaman the Syrian. You see, all the people gathered in the synagogue that day thought that Jesus’ sermon about the good news of God’s love, about freedom and all that jazz… they thought he was talking about them. They believed in God’s love alright, but they thought that God’s love was just for them. That God’s blessings were reserved just for them.  And when Jesus says, “oh, folks, you missed the point… God’s love is for everybody.  Sure, God’s love is for you, but it’s for the widow at Zarephath in Sidon too.  And it’s for Naaman, the Syrian, too. Well, it’s then that it all turns stinky.  

You see, guess what… that widow… that widow to whom the prophet Elijah comes and saves in those days of famine, she was a Gentile, not one of them.  And that Syrian leper, the one to whom the prophet Elisha comes and heals, out of all the other lepers, that Syrian by the name of Naaman… he was a Gentile too, not one of them. 

Here’s the deal… in part 2 of his sermon, Jesus has the audacity to make the outlandish claim that God’s love and God’s grace and God’s mercy and God’s compassion were for these folks too, these Gentiles, these foreigners.  And that, my friends, was just too much for the folks in that synagogue on that day in Jesus’ hometown to handle. They become enraged and want to kill him.  In fact, they try to. They take him up to the cliff above the town so they can throw him off. But somehow he escapes, at least for now.

So, here’s the truth: God loves you and me. God loves Christians and non-Christians.  God’s love extends to those with light skin and dark skin. God loves both the rich and the poor and those of us in the middle.  God loves folks who were born in this country, those who were born somewhere else but found a way to become citizens, those who are not citizens but have a piece of paper making it okay for them to be in this country, those who are here without that piece of paper.  God loves them all.  God loves straight folks and God loves gay and bi and trans folks.  God loves Ukrainians and Russians.  God loves Palestinians and Israelis.  God loves Republicans and Democrats and Independents.  Not to state the most obvious of obvious truths, but God so loved the whole wide world that he sent his son Jesus.  And that’s some friggin’ good news.

But listen to me now. That good news that God loves all. That’s actually some radical stuff that can get you into all sorts of trouble if you start talking about it or doing something about it.  Because what that means is that if we’re serious about loving God and loving the folks that God loves, which is pretty much the definition of what religion is all about, then there’s no us and them. We’re all siblings and all deserving of a place at God’s table. 

I understand that finding good solutions to issues such as immigration and abortion, dealing with climate change, international relations and all the rest… I get it that it’s hard work. I understand that intelligent people may disagree on the best way forward with these immense challenges. I understand that lively debate can and should ensue about how best to deal with these issues that affect all of us, but especially the weakest among us. 

But what I don’t get is how people who claim to follow in the way of Jesus seem so willing to quickly sacrifice the needs of them to protect the needs of us. I don’t understand how those who have heard the holy words that God’s good news for the poor, and release from captivity for those in bondage and sight for the blind, and freedom for the oppressed… I don’t understand how people of faith might interpret these words as applying only to us, and not to them also. And I don’t understand how any follower of Jesus might believe that sticking up for the weakest among us is appropriate only at certain times and places and not at all times and in all places.

My siblings in Christ Jesus, we are called at all times and in all places to advocate for the poor, the oppressed, and the marginalized.  In our prayers, in our words, in our actions.  They are us.  Together with them, we are all God’s family. Jesus’ teachings couldn’t be more clear.  As we witnessed this week, however, to advocate for the poor and oppressed can be dangerous work. It can get you thrown off a cliff. It’s scary stuff, and we may be tempted to stay quiet about what God wants.  But, my friends, if it was Jesus’ work,  it’s our work too. God has anointed us as well, 

to bring good news to the poor.

to proclaim release to the captives

and recovery of sight to the blind,

to let the oppressed go free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

May God grant us steadfastness and courage for the days ahead.  Amen.

Art+

Sufficient Unity

/ arthancock / Leave a comment

This past Tuesday, a National Prayer Service was held at Washington National Cathedral.  The service of worship was attended by leaders of many faith traditions, newly elected leaders of our nation, and others.  Our freshly inaugurated President and Vice-President were present. Bishop Mariann Budde was the preacher for the occasion and used the opportunity to address the need for unity in our nation. Using Jesus’ well-known parable that contrasts a house built on rock with that built on sand, Bishop Budde exhorted those present and, by extension, all of us, to do our part to work toward unity.

Bishop Budde stated that people of faith are not so naive as to think that unity is the same as uniformity. In a nation as diverse as the United States, it is to be expected that there will be differences of opinion on all manner of things. Indeed, the whole notion of democracy is that positive solutions to great challenges are discovered when we engage, dialogue, disagree, debate, compromise, and negotiate. It’s a slow, arduous process.  It’s a lot of work. 

Can we not, Bishop Budde asked, strive for a sufficient unity, one that will propel us forward as a nation, one that will afford all people the opportunity to live abundantly?  And can we not build this sufficient unity by respecting the dignity of every human being, speaking the truth in love, and finding some humility in our walk with each other and with God?

In the aftermath of the prayer service, Bishop Budde’s sermon went viral. Many acclaimed her courage in “taking it to the president.” Many others condemned her words, chastising her for having the audacity to confront President Trump in a sacred space and sacred service of worship. One Congressional Representative actually called upon Bishop Budde to be “added to the deportation list” for her words.  

Apparently, President Trump was not positively moved by her sermon either. On Truth Social, President Trump remarked, “Apart from her inappropriate statements, the service was a very boring and uninspiring one. She is not very good at her job! She and her church owe the public an apology!” 

My goodness. 

My own reaction to the sermon was that Bishop Budde did what all Christians are called upon to do: to speak the truth as she understands the truth. She was asked to preach, and she preached about a God of love who desires abundance of life for all people: democrats and republicans and independents, citizens and non-citizens, documented and undocumented, people who are straight, gay and trans.  Bishop Budde spoke of a God who calls upon humans to do justice and to love mercy and to walk humbly with each other and with God. She challenged all of us, including those newly elected, to be people of integrity, matching our prayers with our actions. And finding herself under the same roof as the most powerful human on the face of the earth, Bishop Budde used the occasion to ask President Trump to consider mercy when making the difficult decisions required of his office. 

I found her words to be squarely in line with all the words and actions of Jesus. Quite frankly, I found nothing that she said to be radical at all, at least not radical if one identifies as a Christian. I find myself in complete agreement with the one who commented, “If you’re a Christian and what Bishop Mariann Budde said offended you, then Christ isn’t the one you’re following.” I stand resolutely and humbly beside Mariann, my sister in Christ. 

My siblings in Christ, if we are to find a sufficient unity to hold our families, our faith communities, our nation and our world together, it seems that it’s not too much to ask that we heed the words of Bishop Budde:

to respect the dignity of every human being 

to speak truth, as we understand the truth, to one another

to find some humility in our walk with each other and with God

May God give us the grace to witness to Christ’s sacrificial love for the whole world, striving for a sufficient unity in both our words and actions. 

~Father Art