Ordinary Messy Lives - Redeemer Episcopal

Matthew 1:18-25 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

The Birth of Jesus the Messiah

18 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. 19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. 20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

23 “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
    and they shall name him Emmanuel,”

which means, “God is with us.” 24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, 25 but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, on December 22, 2019 at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, FL. You can read the manuscript below and/or listen to my sermon (with infusions from the Spirit) at the link here. 

If you’re anything like my family, you’ve been singing songs about Christmas for about a month now— maybe even longer. Lots of these songs are about the utter joy and amazement with which we greet the baby Jesus. Some songs exclaim about the angels, shepherds, wise men, and the stars that seemed to gleam brighter with every passing hour. Some songs talk about stillness and the various farm animals that were present that evening. I’m sure we will sing most of them here on Christmas Eve and maybe even on Christmas morning.

But this version of the incarnation— Matthew’s version— sounds a bit different. 

Unlike many of the stories we hear of Jesus’ birth, Matthew only gives the actual birth about a verse and a half he says— “Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way (then all the way at the end of the passage)… she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.” It’s very simple, nothing about angels appearing to shepherds, nothing about Mary going to visit her cousin and babies jumping for joy in the womb. There is no long travel to Bethlehem, and nothing about the lack of room in the inn. 

But what this story does tell us is about the ordinary-ness, and the messiness of the world that Jesus would be born into. 

We hear that there is nothing particularly special about this family, a man and a woman who are in the process of being married, but haven’t quite brought their households together yet. They are young and normal, until the young woman is pregnant and it appears there is some messiness, perhaps even scandal. 

We hear about the turmoil and fright that Jesus would be born into, the conflict and strife. Imagine the fear and anxiety both Joseph and Mary would be feeling as they relied fully on the words of God’s messengers and brought a baby into the world without fully understanding his paternity. It was a wild scandal in their day. Something that could cause Mary to be left by her husband without anyone to support her or she could even be stoned to death. 

But these were all the messy, ordinary, human issues that people encountered often in Jesus’ time. There was nothing particularly special about the holy family. Even that now-common name for them— “holy”— seems to not quite fit Matthew’s narrative. 

The “holy family” didn’t have people following them around like the Kardashians or have 24/7 news coverage like the next presidential election. Everything was quite ordinary, quite common. There were no press releases or baby shower invitations, no social media blasts. 

They were not a king and queen, there was not even anything particularly special about the couple as common people. Except, of course, their faithfulness. They were much like you and me, trying to make their way in the world and follow God’s direction for their lives. 

And I think God was intentional about this. God CHOSE this quaint, normal, sort of messy family to come into the world. 

God CHOSE to come to us as a child, as a small and fragile, and ordinary baby. 

And yet. This was no ordinary birth. This was no ordinary baby. 

Both Mary and Joseph knew this reality. We hear it from God’s messenger to Joseph, that this baby will fulfill old prophecies. And from Mary, in Luke’s gospel and repeated several times this morning in worship, we hear her incredible song of praise. 

It is a song that tells more than a story of a simple family during a simple time, having a simple baby boy. 

It is the story of God doing incredible things through the humblest of people. It is the story of God bringing the most powerful people down from their thrones. It is the story of God turning the world upside down and inside out by lifting up the lowly and filling the hungry with good things, and sending the rich away empty. 

It is a song of praise at the wonder and awesomeness of our God, because Mary knows that this will be no simple birth, the child that she holds within her womb will be no ordinary baby, this will be no normal man. 

He will be the man who will bring all of these things to pass— he will be the one to begin the revolution, to jump-start the end of times, to usher in the reign of God in this world. From ordinary, humble, simple, and sometimes messy lives, this baby, Christ Jesus, will change the world. 

And I don’t want to give too much away, but if you stick around for the rest of the story, God does marvelous things with messy lives— like a couple of fishermen, some tax collectors, and a few faithful women. In the ordinary water of baptism, God grants us new life and renames us beloved. And even here, at this table this morning, God takes the most ordinary bread and wine and feeds it to us at the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one whose birth we will witness in just a few short days, and whose coming again we long for with anticipation. 

Praise God that God might do the same with our own ordinary, humble, simple, and sometimes messy lives. And our own faithfulness. Amen. 

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Prepare to Repent - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Matthew 3:1-12 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

The Proclamation of John the Baptist

3 In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, 2 “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” 3 This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:

‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’”
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4 Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. 5 Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, 6 and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.

7 But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8 Bear fruit worthy of repentance. 9 Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 10 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

11 “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 12 His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, Florida on December 8, 2019. You can read the manuscript below, and/or you can listen to the sermon (with infusions from the Spirit) at this link. 

Are you ready? It’s December 8th already. We only have 17 days until Christmas. Panicking yet? 

Even if the weather does not quite show it, it appears that Christmas time is here. Christmas music is playing on the radio, all the displays are out, I saw last Sunday night that Santa is at the mall waiting for his picture to be taken. 

For our college students at UNF and JU, it means finals week is upon us, some of them are graduating, other are gearing up for the seasonal holiday hours at their job. 

For others it means finishing up projects at work or bracing yourself for your children to be out for Christmas break. 

There always seems to be an abundance of things to do to prepare for Christmas: Making lists, checking them twice, if you’re my mother, you’re running around making sure everyone has the exact same number of gifts under the Christmas tree. Lots of other people are still decorating, baking, cooking, and traveling. 

Preparing for Christmas seems a bit more like a sprint than a marathon and, as a pastor, by the end of it, I’m winded and ready to never do it again… until next year. 

But preparing for Christmas seems to look very different than preparing for the coming of Jesus. 

In the text this morning, we hear the words of John the Baptizer, the man who was called and sent to prepare people for the coming of Jesus. Like a prologue of a book, or a prelude in our worship service, John tells the people what is about to happen. He preps them for something that is better and more important than himself. But it doesn’t sound much like shopping and baking and decorating. 

“Repent,” John says, “for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

He continues, “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”

So what does it mean to John to prepare for Christmas? Well, it means preparing for the coming of Jesus, and he says we won’t be ready for that until we repent and recognize that a Jesus’ birth marks a new age— something wild and new and wonderful that we could never even dream of. 

Repentance is not necessarily the word we would immediately associate with Advent and Christmas preparation. For one thing, here in this Episcopal church, as well as many others across the country, we use the hopeful and anticipatory color blue for Advent instead of the repentant and penitential purple that other congregations might use, the same color we use for Lent in the spring. 

But it seems that repentance is of utmost importance to John, and throughout the gospel according to Matthew, we will see this liturgical year, that it is also very important to Jesus. 

It is important that we prepare our hearts and our minds and our attitudes for Jesus. We are reminded to do this figuratively throughout Advent, but what we will celebrate on Christmas Day is not only the miracle of Jesus coming to be with us in the form of a tiny baby, marking the beginning of the coming of the Kingdom of God, but also looking forward to the day when he will return to us, at the end of time, when Isaiah’s prophecy will be completely fulfilled in God’s promise. 

Repentance, at its core, means to change direction, to pick a different course, to turn around. And that is what John is asking the listeners— and us— to do. John’s sole calling is to alert people to the fact that what they are doing is out of step with God’s purpose and desire for their lives and for all of creation. “You brood of vipers,” John accuses, something new is happening and you’d better be ready for it. And that newness is what Isaiah describes: a time when there will be no predator and prey, no fear or hatred, no anger or rebellion. There will be peace, reconciliation, equity, and grace. Paths that are straight and lives that are full. 

Repentance, John says, turning toward this peace, reconciliation, equity, and grace, is the first step in joining Jesus in this new world and in this new kingdom. 

That is my favorite thing about John the Baptizer. He minimizes himself in order to glorify the one who will come after him. All that he does and all that he is points to the one who will save us with baptism in the spirit, with his birth, life, death, and resurrection. John points to the one who embodies what it looks like for us to repent. 

So how do we prepare for the coming of Jesus? How do we prepare for Christmas? Repent. Be transformed by this age-old story and change direction. Turn from idolatry, violence, injustice, exploitation, slavery, and scarcity— and turn toward devotion, peace, justice, equity, freedom, and abundance— turn toward God and the one whom we await on Christmas morning and on the last day, Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Book Review: Advent Conspiracy: Making Christmas Meaningful (Again) by Rick McKinley

As we enter the season of Advent, a time that seems to come more quickly every year, I often spend time reflecting on the meaning of the season. It’s not easy, to be sure, as I also begin thinking about Christmas gifts, holiday traveling, and preparing for the many worship services. This year, I decided to take some time to listen to the audiobook version of Advent Conspiracy: Making Christmas Meaningful (Again) by Rick McKinley. It was convicting to listen to as I drove to St. John’s Town Center to buy a Christmas gift. 

It asks the compelling question of what if the incarnation, the most incredible gift ever given in Christ Jesus, was actually what we celebrated during Advent and Christmas season? McKinley challenged me to think about those who are most vulnerable in the world as we celebrate the one who came as a vulnerable baby to an unwed mother in Bethlehem. In the next couple of weeks, I hope to focus less on the hustle of Christmas shopping and more on Christ’s mission to be with the last, lost, and least. 

Consumerism, McKinley says, is the fastest growing religion in the United States. Ouch. As much as I would like to deny it, I know that I often neglect God the Creator for the gods that are money, consumerism, and the insatiable need for the new shiny thing of the Christmas season. Even though I know, theologically, what Christmas is all about, I need to be reminded every year (if not every month and every week), that this season is meant to celebrate our incredible God who loves us so much that God would become flesh and blood and live among us. 

Christmas is about a gift— but only one— the gift that saved the entire world in his living, healing, dying, and rising again. I’ll continue to ponder what Advent might mean if we focus more on that everlasting gift and our relationship with our siblings in Christ, and less on the gifts we place under a tree. I invite you to ponder with me.     

You can find Advent Conspiracy: Making Christmas Meaningful (Again) by Rick McKinley in the St. Mark’s library. You can also find out more information about the movement at adventconspiracy.org. 

Faith as Action - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Luke 20:27-38 

New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

The Question about the Resurrection

Some Sadducees, those who say there is no resurrection, came to him and asked him a question, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies, leaving a wife but no children, the man shall marry the widow and raise up children for his brother. Now there were seven brothers; the first married, and died childless; then the second and the third married her, and so in the same way all seven died childless. Finally the woman also died. In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had married her.”

Jesus said to them, “Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage; but those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage. Indeed they cannot die anymore, because they are like angels and are children of God, being children of the resurrection. And the fact that the dead are raised Moses himself showed, in the story about the bush, where he speaks of the Lord as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Now he is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive.”

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, Florida on November 10, 2019. You can read the manuscript below, or you can listen to the sermon (with infusions from the Spirit) at this link. 

God of grace and mercy, teach us to have faith that goes beyond words and is incarnate in our every action. Amen. 

Our son Bennet is 15 months old and he is at the age that he doesn’t really listen to anything that we say, but it imitates almost everything that we do. It is both incredibly charming, and incredibly frightening. 

This means that when he sees me reading on a Saturday morning, he picks up a book, plops down on my lap, and pretends to read to himself. It means he is constantly on his dad’s lap at the piano, gently tapping on the keys and singing like dad does. 

But it also means that when we are too focused on our cell phones, he notices, and wants to scroll the screen too. And it means when we fuss at the dog or eat more snacks than we should, he sees us and wants to do the same. 

On Monday, I asked his pediatrician when he’d start listening to us instead of just watching us and imitating us. “Never,” she said. "That is how he learns. He’ll learn a little bit from what you say, but he is always watching and learning what you do. If we want someone to learn something, we’d better make sure we do it too.” 

I’ve been reminding myself of that as I reflected on Father Wiley’s sermon from All Saints Sunday last week.

He spoke about the legacy of the saints who have come before us and the legacy that we are called to leave for the future of the church. And I began thinking about the legacy I want to leave for my son and his children, what do I want him to know about my faith and what I am committed to in this life? If we want someone to learn something, we’d better make sure we do it too.

I don’t remember my parents ever talking about “stewardship” or “tithing” or even “offerings” when I was in school. I think I remember a check being written and an envelope being put into the offering plate each month. Generosity was never talked about in our house as far as I can remember, but I do remember the first time I understood what the word meant. 

My parents had heard about a woman, who we called Miss Martha, who ran a food pantry out of her house every week for people in her neighborhood, which was the neighborhood where we went to church. She barely stood at five feet tall and had a wicked attitude. Every couple of months, our congregation took loads of food to Miss Martha to help her in the ministry she was doing. One fall afternoon, my dad helped Miss Martha get into her big white pick up truck and she remarked that she wasn’t sure how much longer it would last and anyway, she was getting too old to get into it. 

On the way home, my parents hatched a plan and about six weeks later, right around Christmas, instead of food, we delivered Miss Martha a new car. I don’t think I even fully comprehended what we were doing at the time, but I knew that what my parents were doing is what people would call “generous.”

My parents’ generosity is what has made the practice of tithing so important in my own theology. A fellow pastor was recently asked what the most important spiritual discipline is in his life. He said people are always so surprised when he replies, “writing my monthly tithe check to my church.” Even I was surprised when he explained further: “you can sit in a pew to worship every Sunday and fake it, you can pray regularly and fake it, you can even read the Bible every day and fake it. But you can’t fake that money coming out of your bank account every month. It’s painful, and it is real. And it is a testament to your faith.” 

My parents never described their generosity to be painful, but I would imagine that at times it was.  Spiritual practices are not meant to be easy or casual, but they are meant to bring us closer to God. 

I suppose what is so striking to me about All Saints’ Day, as well as Veterans’ Day, and many other holidays that honor people, is that we almost never remember people for what they said or believed. We remember people for what they did. If we want someone to learn something, we’d better make sure we do it too.

Of course the greatest example is Jesus. It is much easier for us to remember the things Jesus did… he healed many people, he was often on boats with his disciples, he ate with people, like the meal we will eat here this morning. 

And it is far too easy to forget that besides “the Kingdom of God,” Jesus talked and taught about money more than anything else during his ministry. 

We remember people for what they do. And according to Jesus, what we do with our money is important. 

Now, I am a priest and a campus minister, so if you need some suggestions on what you could do with your money, I am happy to give you some great ideas after worship this morning. 

But I’d rather let you wonder about what you are leaving as your faith legacy. What do our actions say about God and our relationship with money in this busy consumeristic season of the holidays and beyond? What do our actions teach our children, our grandchildren, our great grandchildren and their children?

As I reflect on Job’s words from this morning— his wish to have his words written down, and as I remember Jesus’ words that "God is God not of the dead, but of the living.”

I can’t help but think of those words and actions that will continue living… the things that we do that will last beyond us, beyond our generation, and perhaps even beyond this church. 

God is doing something wild and wonderful in this place. If you haven’t witnessed it yet, stick around a little longer and I’m sure you’ll get a glimpse of it. What actions do we want remembered by those who come after us? What kind of faith? What kind of generosity? If we want someone to learn something, we’d better make sure we do it too. Amen. 

It's about God - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Luke 18:9-14

⁹He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: ¹⁰“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. ¹¹The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. ¹²I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ ¹³But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ ¹⁴I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, at Redeemer Episcopal Church on October 27, 2019. You can read the manuscript below or listen to the audio recording (with infusions from the Spirit) at this link. 

Merciful God, fount of every blessing, remind us that you came among us to turn our expectations upside down, that you are God because of your unmeasurable and unexpected grace. Amen. 

Everything I read about this text this week has been something like 

TURN BACK 

BEWARE 

IT’S A TRAP! 

Which, of course, made me feel REALLY good about preaching this Sunday. But, here I am, trying my hardest not to walk into the trap that is this parable. 

Typically, I think parables are often more straightforward and honestly more fun than some other biblical passages. For the most part in parables, there are good people and bad people (and the moral of the story is mostly that you want to be the good person). Or if it’s a parable about God, then we are usually the lowly ones and God is the forgiving and wonderful one.

So obviously, where I want to start is: who are we in this particular parable? There are only really two people in the parable, three if we count God, but I don’t think we are meant to be God. So let’s think about it for a second: there’s a haughty pharisee who is so glad he is not like the tax collector. Then there is a tax collector who seems to be deep in sin but ultimately is leaving everything before God and humbling himself. Who are you in the story? 

Wait! Don’t think about it for too long! It’s a trap! 

If we say we are the humble tax collector, then we are probably saying something like, “I’m humble! I’m certainly not righteous like the pharisee!” But then, we are saying the exact same thing the pharisee prayed: Thank God I’m not like THAT person. 

And if we say we are the pharisee, we might be being more honest with ourselves, but it is pretty obvious that, in this story, we don’t *want* to be the pharisee. Because the pharisee divides God’s people into “me” and “them.” And that doesn’t sounds like the ideal Christian role model either, does it? 

So I could preach about how we need to humble ourselves before God, but then we run into the trap of how do we know how humble is humble enough? And once we become humble enough, we run the risk of being proud of how humble we are— and then we aren’t humble at all! 

The reason we encounter a trap everywhere we turn in this parable is because we always try to make it about us. And as long as we make this parable about us, we will always be the over-righteous pharisee instead of the humble tax collector. 

No matter which way we try to slice it, it doesn’t seem like we can put ourselves into this parable, like we are often inclined to do. 

Instead, we are invited to open this parable up and see that it is really about God. It is about our God who is so merciful and so world-altering that God is going to humble the exalted and exalt the humble. 

God can and will take the lowest of the low and exalt them — I mean tax collectors were the worst of the worst during that time. They were hated by people because they often cheated the poor out of the little money that they had. Tax collectors were also some of the only people that everyone had to answer to— the rich and poor alike paid taxes, so it ended up that tax collectors probably had very few friends and lived on the margins of society. 

But this humble tax collector is not the subject of this parable, God is. 

God, who came to us as the lowest of the low, a baby born of a virgin in Bethlehem. A fugitive from birth, and a nomad, traveling around with his pack of fishers and sinners. God, who heals women and widows, sent out demons, and was pushed to the margins… is the subject of this parable. 

Not us. 

This parable is about God— The God who creates light from darkness, raises the dead to life, and pulls us all— Pharisees and tax collectors, righteous and sinful, the law-abiders and the criminals, disciples and those with hearts that are prone to wander— God pulls us all into a realm of unimaginable and unexpected grace, mercy and joy.

God knows our hearts, and even then, God offers us grace. The difference between righteousness and justification is all about God’s action on our behalf. 

When we puff ourselves up, when we place ourselves above others to show off our accomplishments, we see no need for God’s grace, and though we may be living “right,” as long as we think we are responsible for our justification, we will still be unable to accept God’s mercy. 

When we recognize our inability to get it right, we throw ourselves on the mercy of one who loves us more abundantly than we can imagine.

We then trust God’s promise to protect and provide for us now, and when the time comes, to make us holy and justified according to God’s mercy and the forgiveness of our sins, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. 

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Faith - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Luke 17:5-10

⁵The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” ⁶The Lord replied, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. ⁷“Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’? ⁸Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink’? ⁹Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? ¹⁰So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’”

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, FL on October 6, 2019. You may read the transcript below, or listen to it (with infusions from the Spirit) at this link. It was also our celebration of "Blessing of the Animals," which adds a little context to why my dog was with me that morning. 

God of mercy, help us to understand that we already have enough faith through your Son, Jesus Christ, to live our days in Christian obedience. Amen.

A few weekends ago, I attended a women’s retreat that focused on spiritual gifts. Before the retreat, we were all supposed to take a spiritual gifts assessment online and bring our results with us. 

As we began our conversations, I listened to various women confess, “well, it says my most prominent spiritual gift is faith, but I don’t know about that.” The other women, their friends who had come with them, and the one who listened to their stories over the weekend began shaking their heads. “Yes,” they said, “it is so obvious to us that faith is your spiritual gift. Just the way you walk through life and encounter people— it is certainly a prominent gift in your life.” 

The faithful women didn’t see big flashy, newspaper worthy signs of the faithfulness— maybe they never left their homes to live in poverty, perhaps they weren’t traditional ministers or nuns, maybe they’d never been recognized for their faith ever before that day. 

Whatever it was, they didn’t feel like they had “enough” faith, which is what the disciples were looking for in themselves because Jesus was asking them to do what they thought were big, huge, flashy things. The disciples had heard Jesus tell people about the true cost of discipleship— a lifestyle that would cost them not only their relationships, their livelihood, but ultimately their very lives. 

It’s really no wonder that the disciples were demanding Jesus to increase their faith, but Jesus obviously thinks it’s the wrong request. 

Faith, Jesus says in not so many words, is not something that can be measured, but something that has already been gifted to us— in ready abundance— by the Holy Spirit. Faith is something that we walk every day, obedience we called it, perhaps, as Jesus implies by his story of the slaves serving their masters. Faith is simply doing what we are told by God to do— nothing flashy, nothing worth praise or a news story. 

But the disciples didn’t want faith to simply make it through the day, they were asking for faith to do great works and great wonders according to their own desires. But this was not according to God’s own grace and love. 

But I understand the disciples’ cry for more faith— it would be nice if we were recognized a little more for how much faith we have, wouldn’t it? Just so we know we have enough. But the reality is that we do already have the faith that we need, and more than that, we already demonstrate that faith every day. 

God gives us enough faith through the Holy Spirit to continue in the Christian life, to continue to turn back toward God despite our sinfulness and temptations. Not flashy, but good and true and measured everyday faith. 

It’s the faith that Jesus speaks about at other times— not the faith of moving mountains or of uprooting a mulberry tree and throwing it into the sea. 

It is doing small, faithful things repeatedly. It is the faith of a mustard seed, the faith of salt and grain and ordinary life. 

Presbyterian pastor, Courtney Ellis says, “It is what we do in those ordinary times that matters most because those are the days that shape us most regularly.” God works in the minuscule things. God works in our every day, faithful acts of obedience. 

When we decide to turn toward our neighbor instead of away, God works in that small faithful act. When we spend an extra few minutes snuggling with our child at night, when we decide to just do this dishes instead of fussing at our spouse or roommate. God works in that small faithful act. When we prayerfully decide to commit a few extra dollar to the mission of the church this year, God works in that small faithful act. When we come to worship with our friends and family, when we bring our pets for a blessing. God works in that small faithful act. 

And God works in those small faithful acts day after day, even when we trip up and feel like we haven’t done a single faithful thing in weeks. Because God is faithful to us. And it is God’s faithfulness that keeps us moving toward the Kingdom.

There are countless examples of every day faithfulness in my life, people I can point to and say, “that’s exactly what God is like.” But the best example I could think of this week was Cooper, our seven year old husky here. 

We also have a one year old little boy, so every day Cooper is whacked with toys and bottles, he has his fur tugged on and pulled out, and he’s regularly used as a footstool. We don’t walk him as often as we should and he spends a lot of time at home sleeping. Yet he remains faithful. He is always calm and happy, always willing to stick close to our son and me when we do go on walks. Every day he demonstrates his obedience and devotion to us, despite the way we sometimes unknowingly neglect him. 

We see that kind of faithfulness in so many pets, service animals, and therapy animals. The faith of simply continuing to look forward to the next day, no knowing what it holds, but knowing that God is there guiding us and being faithful alongside us. 

And that faith might not be flashy or glamorous, it might not feel like a lot and some days it will feel like it is barely there, God works in that too. Amen. 

Blessing of the Animals at University of North Florida

You can read the article about our Blessing of the Animals from News4Jax at this link.

On October 4, I preached and presided on University of North Florida's campus for the first time. It was an absolutely wonderful experience and I can't wait to do it again. I love the Blessing of the Animals worship service and I think it is a great way to introduce church to people who might not be very familiar with it. Everything was casual but so very sacred. As we worshipped outside of the Brooks College of Health, we were greeted by not only the various dogs, but also the birds, lizards, and squirrels that live on campus. We listened to the fountain in the background, felt the sun on our shoulders, and heard the breeze rustle through the trees above us.

Below is the gist of my sermon, which included some improvisation and loving on Polar Bear, the monstrous white dog who laid lazily in the front row.

In the summer of 2014, my husband, who was only my boyfriend at the time, and I adopted our sweet dog Cooper. It was a regular outing for us to leave seminary and go snuggle all the dogs we wish we could adopt. We were in school full time and had very little money, so we liked to go fantasize about adopting puppies and older dogs and ALL of the dogs together.

When we walked in that day, Cooper was the first dog I saw-- he was the only dog I saw. He has mange and fleas and heart worms and barely any hair at all. But he was so calm and peaceful. So sad and longing. Just laying there, a little bit like Bear lays here now. So I climbed into the fenced in area with him and pulled him onto my lap and looked up at Daniel and said, "I don't care how we do it, but we're not leaving here without this dog."

And of course, we didn't. He came home with us that very day and we fell deeply in love with him. Since then, he has been teaching me all sorts of things about myself, about creation, and about God.

This is the sort of thing St. Francis found as he interacted with God's creation throughout his life. He understood creation to be a mirror to God. Theologian Richard Rohr calls creation the first Bible-- plants, animals, and all of creation, reflect God's beauty. It teaches us something about God that we cannot even learn from reading the words of the Bible.

God created the world to call us into relationship-- with one another, with creation itself, and, of course, relationship with God.

When we first adopted Cooper, he was very skittish. Despite promising to love him forever and ever, one morning, he slipped right out of his collar and ran off. Then it happened again. And again. And four times. Each time, we chased after him, gathering the whole neighborhood to help us. And each time we brought him back home, soothed him, assured him that he was safe and didn't have to run away. He didn't have to be scared with us, we loved him.

This is like God's love for us-- God is constantly running after us, chasing after us, calling all of the people in our lives to help God search for us, bringing us home, and assuring us that we are safe and that God loves us.

Pets, service animals, comfort animals, and therapy animals teach us about this kind of love, forgiveness, and grace.

In a world where humans are not always a testament to love, forgiveness, and grace, it is a shame that the church only spends one day honoring and blessing these animals and all of creation. Because every single day they are a blessing to us.

Amen.

Converting a collared shirt into a clergy shirt

I have been making some shirts I found at Goodwill into clergy shirts for my spouse, and I had lots of people ask how to do it and it's not really my knowledge to keep to myself, so I figured if I can help clergy folx save some money, then I better do it! We've been blessed by "hacks" like this in various capacities, so here it goes! If it feels like there's a step missing somewhere or you have any questions, comment below and I will fix it. I don't have the technology to do a tutorial video that would be helpful right now.

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What you’ll need: 

Fabric scissors 

Straight pins

Sewing machine 

Thread that matches the stitching of the shirt

Collar tab of choice (some are thicker or thinner than others) 

Step 1: Find the right shirt to convert

We want a shirt that has a malleable collar, but not one that is too flimsy. I have found that the ones without fancy collar tabs and reinforced collars (you can feel the cardboard-like reinforcement when you bend the collar) work best. But you'll likely want a higher quality than a regular button up shirt from American Eagle. If your shirt is "button down" (it has tiny buttons to button the collar to the shirt), that is okay too, but you'll have to cut the tiny buttons off.

My spouse exclusively wears long sleeve clergy shirts, but there is no reason this couldn't work with short sleeve shirts as well. I have found that Nautica and Dockers brand shirts work well (you can let them know they owe me money for the endorsement).

Note: If you're shopping without the person who will be wearing the shirt, be sure to get their neck measurements. The top button will have to be buttoned, so you don't want to get one that's too tight!

Step 2: Cut the collar

Unbutton the top two buttons of the shirt. We aren't making the collar opening much bigger than it already is, we are just sewing it straight down in the style of a clergy collar, so we don't have to cut too much. I usually cut right past the stitch that is already there. Cut as close to the neck as possible so there is no extra fabric. This is why *fabric* scissors are so important (remember the special ones your mom didn't let you use when you were younger? Get you a pair of those!). Repeat on the other side.

Step 3: Fold the collar under and pin

We want the collar to be straight down, so we won't fold the collar over evenly. There will likely be more excess fabric on the top than on the bottom (the opposite of what is pictured below, actually). Do this on both collars. Pin it securely on both sides, button the top two buttons of the shirt, and place the tab collar in the opening to make sure it looks correct and even on both sides. Once it looks to your satisfaction, take the tab out, unbutton the top two buttons, and lay the collar out flat to sew.

Note: sometimes it's easier to get this just right if you put it on the person who will be wearing the shirt. That way you can see exactly how it is going to lay once it's on. If that's not possible, just remember that the shirt collar will be straight across when worn with the tab, instead of a "v" like when you wear a normal button up shirt without the top button closed.

Step 4: Sew the collar

Sew from the edge you cut (closest to the neck) to the finished edge. Use a thread that matches the existing stitching of the shirt. The closest you get to the rest of the shirt's style and color, the more finished it will look. Be sure to back stitch and forward stitch twice to secure the stitch on both ends. Repeat on both sides.

Step 5: Fold the excess fabric under and pin

This is the most finicky part, but the more malleable the shirt collar, the easier it will be. Fold the excess bottom fabric (the pointy part) under the collar and pin. Make sure you don't pin it too tight or the tab won't fit. You can use the tab as a guide as you fold it under. You'll see that it is pinned a bit at an angle so that your new stitch will eventually run right into the existing stitch on the bottom of the collar.

Step 6: Sew the collar down

Starting at the open end, sew along the edge of the collar to secure it to the shirt. You will sew right into the existing stitch of the collar. Be sure to back stitch and forward stitch twice to secure the stitch on both ends. Repeat on both sides and make sure the tab fits!

You can see in the picture above that it's not *perfect* but it only took me about ten minutes while the baby ate breakfast. Plus, it only cost me $5 for the shirt! You can't really beat that. My favorite thing is that you can take your favorite brand and the right fit and convert it easily, so there's no need to be uncomfortable in a collar!

I haven't tried to convert any of my shirts into clergy shirts because I mostly wear my janey, so I don't know the complications that might occur with that (perhaps the collar is too thin to fold under?), but if you try it and run into issues (or if it works really well), comment below and let me know!