5 Pentecost

Mark 5.21-43

+ So, this last week was an eventful one, to say the least On Friday, of course, we celebrated the Supreme Court’s decision on marriage equality, which was HUGE.

Also, yesterday, the Episcopal Church elected Bishop Curry as the new Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church—a very good choice in my humble opinion.

But, on Friday, I posted a little illustration on my Facebook page to celebrate the Supreme Court decision.

As I did, I had a well-meaning friend respond to it by private FB message.

Now, to be clear, I occasionally get these comments from people. A priest’s personal lives are, for some reason, endlessly curious and fascinating to some people. I don’t get it, but I kind of understand it.

So this friend wrote, “Fr. Jamie, I love that you posted the rainbow banner on your FB page, but I need to be honest about something and I feel bad even sharing this. To me, it seems like these issues don’t really involve someone like you…”

Someone like me??? I’m not sure what that means, but ok…

“…by that, I mean you’re a single priest. I grew up with only celibate priests and the always seemed so asexual or nonsexual or whatever. I guess it was a shock to see you post it since it seems to me like these kind of issues don’t really affect you personally.”

I had to chuckle over the email a bit. And I wrote her back a very nice response.

But the fact is, that yes, there is kind of a drawback of being a single priest in the church these days. People seem to think issues like marriage equality—or marriage in general, for that matter—don’t really matter to people “like me.”

But the fact is, it does. No matter who I am or what I am—whether I ever get married one day or not—the Supreme Court decision on Friday affects all of us. And not just as Americans. It affects all of us as Christians.

Why? Because it’s about equality. It’s about the fact that in, in Christ, we are all equal. In Christ, we are not male or female, gay or straight or…asexual? We are human. Equal humans. Fully loved and fully accepted by the God we love and worship.

Fifteen years ago, five years ago, what happened Friday seemed like a million years away. But now, here is it. And because it is, here we are, celebrating. All of us.

This is what is like to rise from what seems like to death into a new and wonderful life.

That is what we are experiencing today in the story of Jairus’ daughter.

The joy he felt at the miracle of his daughter coming back from the dead is what many of us are feeling right now. This us true joy that what seemed like something dead—or unreal or beyond our reach—is now real and alive.

Resurrection comes in many forms in our lives and if we wait them out these moments will happen. What happened on Friday was a kind of resurrection moment. It was a miracle.

So, in our own lives, rejoice. Whether we are gay or straight or something in between or nothing on the spectrum, let us rejoice. This resurrection, this miracle story belongs to all of us who long for equality and God’s all-encompassing love.

Let us cling to this joy this morning and let us find strength in it and hope in it. Let this joy we feel give life to our faith. If we do, those words of Jesus to the woman today will be words directed to us as well: “your faith has made you well; go in peace.”

3 Pentecost

June 14, 2015

Mark 4.26-34

+ One of the things we priests encounter on a regular basis are people who tell us about why they don’t attend church anymore. In fact, that’s very common. Invariably, whenever I do a wedding or a funeral and sit with people afterward at the receptions, people get to feeling a bit guilty and start telling me why they don’t attend Church. Which is good.  I like hearing those stories.  They’re important for all of us to hear on occasion.  And one of the most common reasons, I’ve found, is that, oftentimes, it is not issues of their belief in God, or in anything spiritual that causes them to stop attending.

In fact, I very rarely ever hear someone say they stopped attending church because of God.  The number one reason? The Church itself.  Capital C. The oppressiveness of the Church. The actions of the Church. The close-mindedness and the restrictions of the Church and, more especially, those agents of the Church who feel that their duty is is to uphold he institutions of the Church over the care of those who attend the Church.

(Those agents are the same ones who, it seems, forgets that WE are the church).

And even then, it’s not big things that do.  It’s not giant things that drive people away from Church. It’s sometimes small things. A comment made at coffee hour. A seemingly innocent critique. A shake of a finger from a priest or a bishop from a pulpit.

I hope I haven’t been guilty of that.  I don’t know to tell anyone here this morning:  small things do matter when it comes to the Church, to our faith in God.

Jesus definitely understood this.  In our Gospel reading is Jesus comparing the Kingdom of God to the smallest thing they could’ve understood.  A mustard seed. A small, simple mustard seed.  Something they no doubt knew.  And something they no doubt gave little thought to. But it was with this simple image—this simple symbol—that Jesus makes clear to those listening that little things do matter.

And we, as followers of Jesus, need to take heed of that.  Little things DO matter.  Because little things can unleash BIG things.  Even the smallest action on our part can bring forth the kingdom of God in our lives and in the lives of those we serve. But those small actions—those little seeds that we sow in our lives—can also bring about not only God’s kingdom but the exact opposite.  Our smallest bad actions, can, destroy.  Our actions can destroy the kingdom in our midst and drive us further away from God.

Any of us who do ministry on a regular basis know this keenly.  You will hear me say this again and again to anyone who wants to do ministry: be careful about those small actions. You’ve heard me say: when it comes to dealing with people in the church, use VELVET GLOVES. Be sensitive to others.  Those small words or actions.  Those little criticisms of people who are volunteering.  Those little snips and moments of impatience.  Those moments of frustration at someone who doesn’t quite “get it” or who simply can’t do it.  “Use velvet gloves all the time,” I say, and I mean it.

None of us can afford to lose anyone from the church, no matter how big the church might be. Even one lost person is a huge loss to all of us.  

I cannot tell you how many times I hear stories about clergy or church leaders who said or did one thing wrong and it literally destroyed a person’s faith.  I’m sure almost everyone here this morning has either experienced a situation like this first hand with a priest or pastor or even a lay person in a leadership position in the church.  Or if not you, you have known someone close who has.

Now, possibly these remarks by ministers were innocent comments.  There may have been no bad intention involved.  But one wrong comment—one wrong action—a cold shoulder or an exhausted roll of the eyes or a scolding—the fact that a priest did not visit us when were in the hospital or said something that we took the wrong way—is all it takes when a person is in need to turn that person once and for all away from the church and from God. That mustard seed all of a sudden takes on a whole other meaning in a case like this.  What grows from a small seed like this is a flowering tree of hurt and despair and anger and bitterness.

So, it is true.  Those seeds we sow do make a huge difference in the world.  And I can tell you, I have done it as well. I have made some stupid comment in a joking manner that was taken out of context.  We all have. So, knowing that, we now realize how important those mustard seeds in our lives are. We get to make the choice.  We can sow seeds of goodness and graciousness—seeds of the Gospel. We can sow the seeds of God’s kingdom.  Or we can sow the seeds of discontent.

We can, through our actions, sow the weeds and thistles that will kill off the harvest. These past several years you have heard me preach ad nauseum about change in the church.  Well, I am clear when I say that the most substantial changes we can make in the church are not always the BIG ones.  Oftentimes, the most radical changes we can make are in the little things we do—the things we think are not important.  We forget about how important the small things in life are—and more importantly we forget how important the small things in life are to God.

God does take notice of the small things. We have often heard the term “the devil is in the details.”  But I can’t help but believe that it is truly God who is in the details.  God works just as mightily through the small things of life as through the large.   This is what Jesus is telling us this morning in this parable.

So, let us take notice of those small things.  It is there we will find our faith—our God.  It from that small place—those tentative attempts at growth—that God’s kingdom flourishes in our lives. So, let us be mindful of those smallest seeds we sow in our lives as followers of Jesus.  

Let us remind ourselves that sometimes what they produce can either be a wonderful and glorious tree or a painful, hurtful weed.  Let us sow God’s love from the smallest ounce of faith. Let us further the kingdom of God’s love in whatever seemingly small way we can.  Let that love be the positive atom which, when unleashed, creates an explosion of goodness and beauty and grace in this world.

11 years a Priest

 Obligatory anniversary photo (I look a lot more holy than I actually am)

Celebration Supper at Porter Creek Grille

11 years ago today, on the Feast of St. Barnabas, I was ordained a priest. Thank you to everyone who has journeyed with me this far. You will all no doubt receive a jewel or two in your crowns on the other side of the veil for enduring the weirdness that is me. 

11 years a Priest

11 years ago today, on the Feast of St. Barnabas, I was ordained a priest. Thank you to everyone who has journeyed with me this far. You will all no doubt receive a jewel or two in your crowns on the other side of veil for enduring the weirdness that is me. (Here is the obligatory photo from last night's Mass at St. Stephen's looking much more holy than I actually am -- thanks, Gin​)

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Today is the 126th anniversary of the death of poet and Jesuit priest, Gerard Manley Hopkins who, a few hours before his death from typhoid at age 44, was overheard quietly repeating, 

"I am so happy."

"When, when peace, will you, Peace? I'll not play hypocrite
To own my heart: I yield you do come sometimes; but
That piecemeal peace is poor peace."

Holy Trinity

May 31, 2015

John 3.1-17

+ I try…I really do. I try not to complain about other preachers.  But, there is one thing I have never enjoyed about preachers.

I am always made uncomfortable by preachers who use the pulpit as a confessional booth.

That’s a joke, of course. Because, who does it more than me? I’ve confessed to you from here before. And I apologize for that.

But…this morning—this Sunday of the Holy Trinity—I am going to do it once again. I apologize in advance for this one too.  This is a confession that one I don’t think I’ve ever share with too many people. Not many people know about this fact about me.

But…many years ago, long before I became a priest, not long before I became interested in the Episcopal Church, as I was still searching on my spiritual journey, I…joined the Unitarian-Universalist Church. I know some of you know about the so called UU Church. Some of you were members of that denomination at one point.

I joined while I was searching and was a very content Unitarian, actually. I enjoyed the UU Church. It was certainly a progressive church. I was very welcomed into the Church and was treated very well by them. I still hold them in high esteem.  And I still have a very warm place in my heart for the UU Church.

I ultimately had a few issues with them, though. One of the main reason I am not a Unitarian-Universalist now, is that the church was very humanist in its beliefs. Oftentimes, I felt as though I was at a college lecture, rather than at a church. And I was craving something spiritual at that point in my life—and of course still am. I was craving God in my life at that time, and there was not much talk about God at the UU Churches I attended.

Another issue was, of course, liturgy. I need my liturgy! And there was no liturgy of any sort in the UU churches I attended. I did not yet know about a Unitarian congregation in Boston called King’s Chapel, which was originally founded as an Anglican church, but later became Unitarian while still keeping a worship and liturgy that is based on the Book of Common Prayer.

Finally, the biggest issue for me was, of course…Jesus. Jesus was THE issue for me. I, as you all know, always believed, in some way, in the Incarnation—in the belief that Jesus was God come to us in the flesh, which Unitarians definitely did not believe.  At this point in my life, I was exploring other aspects of spirituality, but when it all came down to it in the end, this was a very major part of my spiritual life, I realized. In that sense, it was a good thing to explore UUism. I came away with an even deeper appreciation of Jesus after my very short time with them.

The UU Church is a very old, very respected strain of religious thought, that comes from the so-called “Arian heresy” of the third century. Unitarians had an issue with what we are celebrating today—the holy Trinity.

Now, as a Unitarian, I never really had any issues with the Trinity. I didn’t become a Unitarian because I didn’t believe in the Trinity. In fact, the Trinity was just something I has always kind of lived with and accepted.

Most of us, let’s face it, don’t give the Trinity a lot of thought. We assume God is Trinitarian. But for the most part we don’t lose sleep over what it is or how it works.

People who are losing sleep over the Trinity these days are those preachers who have to preach about the Trinity on this Sunday. Our own Sandy Holbrook was originally going to preach about it today. I’m not saying she chickened out on it (she actually did preach on Holy Trinity Sunday three years ago).

But I had no issue taking up the baton for the sermon today. It’s my job after all, as your priest.  I definitely am not one of those preachers who lost sleep this week fretting over what I was going to say about the Trinity, even despite my Unitarian background.  I approach this Sunday and this concept of the Holy Trinity as I approach any similar situation, like Christmas or Easter or, as we celebrated last Sunday, the Holy Spirit and Pentecost.

It’s a mystery. And I love the mystery of our faith. And let me tell  you, there is nothing more mysterious than the Trinity.  God as Three-in-One—God as Father or Parent or Creator, God as Son or Redeemer and God as Spirit or Sanctifier.

I know, I know.  It’s difficult to wrap our minds around this concept of God.  The questions we priests regularly get is: how can God be three and yet one?  How can we, in all honesty, say that we believe in one God when we worship God as three?  Certainly our Muslim brothers and sisters ask that very important question of us: Aren’t you simply talking about three gods? (We’re not, by the way—just to be clear about that)

Whole Church councils have debated the issue of the Trinity throughout history.  The Church actually has split at times over its interpretation of what exactly this Trinity is.  We can debate it all we want this morning. We can talk what is orthodox or right-thinking about the Trinity all we want. But the fact remains that unless we have experienced God in some kind of tri-personal way, nothing I or anyone can say about the Trinity is going to matter.

Now did you hear that word I just used?  Tri-personal. There, for me, is the key to everything this Sunday is about.

So, what are talking about here is not three gods, as some people seem to think.  What we are talking about it one tri-personal God—a God who cannot be limited in any way, but a God who is able to come to us and be revealed to us in a variety of ways.  We can go on and on about theology and philosophy and all manner of thoughts about God, but ultimately what matters is how we interact with our God.  

How is our relationship with God and with each other deepened and made more real by this one, tri-personal God? How do become closer to God?  This is our primary responsibility: our relationship with God. How can all this talk about God—how can this thinking about God—then deepen our relationship with God?  Our goal is not to understand God: we will never understand God.  God is not some Rubik’s Cube (I’m dating myself with that reference) or a puzzle that has to be solved.  Our goal is to know God.  Our goal is to love God.  Our goal is to try to experience God as God wishes to be experienced by us.

Because God does know us. God does love us.  And, more likely than not, we have actually experienced our God in this tri-personal way more than once in our lives.

I personally have experienced God in a variety of ways; certainly I have experiences God in that tri-personal way countless times.

I have known God as a loving and caring Parent, especially when I think about those times when I have felt marginalized by people or the Church or society or by friends and colleagues.

I have also known God as my redeemer in the Person of Jesus—as the One who has come to me where I am, as One who knows my suffering because this One also has suffered as well. And this One, Jesus, has promised that I too can be a child of this God who is my—and our—Parent.    Because of Jesus, I have been able to take comfort in the fact that God is not some distant deity who could not comprehend what I have gone through in my life and in this limited, mortal body.  God as Jesus the Redeemer knows what it was to be limited by our bodies.  There is something wonderful and holy in that realization.

And I have known the healing and renewal of the Spirit of God of my life.  Certainly we, at St. Stephen’s have experienced and continue to experience this Spirit’s presence in the life and renewal we are celebrating in our congregation.  We have known in a very real way the healing and renewal of the Spirit of God here among us.

And, I don’t need to tell you,  it is wonderful.

Last year I preached about the famous icon of the Trinity, written (that’s the proper way to say an icon is painted or drawn) by the great Russian iconographer, Andrei Rubelev. I have placed the icon here.  Definitely go and take a  look at it and see how truly beautiful it is.  In it you’ll find three angels seated at a table.  According to some theological interpretations, these three Angels represent the three Persons of the Trinity. In the icon we can see that all three Angels are shown as equals to each other.  In a sense, this icon is able to show in a very clear and straightforward way what all our weighty, intellectual theologies do not.

What I especially love about the image is that, in showing the three angels seated around the table, you’ll notice that there is one space at the table left open.  That is the space for you.  In a sense, we are, in this icon, being invited to the table to join with the Trinity.  We are being invited to join into the work of the Trinity.  And I think that is why this icon is so important to me.

If all we do is ponder and argue and debate the Trinity, we’ve already thrown in the towel.  And we are defeating the work of the Trinity.  But if we have sat down at that table with this tri-personal God, if we have joined in that circle of love and, as followers of Jesus, shared that love with others, then we are truly celebrating the Holy Trinity. We are joining the Holy Trinity. We are sharing the love and work of our tri-personal God.

So, no matter what the theologians argue about, no matter what those supposedly learned teachers proclaim, ultimately, our understanding of the Trinity needs to be based on our own experience to some extent.

The Trinity does not have to be a frustrating aspect of our church and our faith.  It should rather widen and expand our faith life and our understanding and experience of God and, in turn, of each other.

So, today, as we ponder God as Trinity—and we should ponder this tri-personal God in our lives—as we consider how God has worked in our lives in a tri-personal way— and who God is in our lives, let us remember how amazing God is in the ways God is revealed to us. God cannot be limited or quantified or reduced.

God can only be experienced.

And adored.

And pondered.

God can only be shared with others as we share love with each other.  When we do that—when we live out and share our loving God with others—then we are joining with the tri-personal God who is here with us, loving us with a love deeper than any love we have ever known before.

Cleaning out my garage today I came across this: an article in my hometown newspaper from 1992 when my first book of poems, Paper Doves, Falling, was published. My father made this frame and it hung in his shop for all those years