Who do you say that I am? - Redeemer Episcopal Church

 Mark 8:27-38

Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" And they answered him, "John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, "But who do you say that I am?" Peter answered him, "You are the Messiah." And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him. 

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things." ³⁴ He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 

For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels."

God of teaching and truth, let us understand Jesus, not as the Messiah we want, but as the Messiah we need in this broken world. And let us and our work be defined by his own sacrifice. Amen. 

This is the first week in many weeks that Jesus is not performing miracles or talking about himself as the Bread of Life. Wow does it feel good to be on this side of that narrative. Finally, we have arrived at one the most important and well-known exchanges between Jesus and the disciples. 

They are on the road again— this time not trying to run away from the crowds or find a place to rest, but on their way to Jerusalem. This narrative of walking and talking serves as an interlude between Jesus’ public ministry and Jesus preparing the disciples for his impending death.   And it’s on the road, on the way, that Jesus asks the disciples “who do people say that I am?” 

As we have moved through Mark’s gospel in this season, we have seen Jesus feed thousands of people with very little food, heal a woman’s daughter without even touching her, and eventually open a man’s ears and release his tongue to that he might hear and speak. These last few weeks, we have seen Jesus perform more miracles and be followed by a larger and large crowd. 

So it is no surprise that people would have begun talking about him. The whispers have started that perhaps he is someone other than just the carpenter’s son. "John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.”

But Jesus wants the disciples’ perspective. They are the ones who have been alongside him all this time. They must have their own assumptions and theories about who he really is. So Peter steps up and makes his declaration of faith: "You are the Messiah.” 

Now if we understand faith, it is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1). Peter is speaking, not only of what he has witnessed while following Jesus from town to town, but he is speaking his hope for Jesus. He believes Jesus is the Messiah because he WANTS Jesus to be the Messiah. 

Silently confirming the truth of what Peter has said, Jesus instructs them not to tell anyone who he is. 

Then Jesus tells them that the time has come for the son of Man to undergo great suffering, be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, the scribes, and be killed.  

 

But for Peter, there is a drastic disconnect between his naming of Jesus as the Messiah, and Jesus’ actual reign as the Messiah.  Peter can not reconcile who he thinks and says Jesus is with the actions and impending future that Jesus has laid out before them.

 

For Peter and the Jewish tradition of his day, Messiah was an anointed king, a ruler in the line of David that would come to reign over Israel.  He would restore Israel from the Gentiles. He would reclaim their independence and glory as God’s chosen people. He would overcome adversaries and oppressors.  He would rule like no king before. For the Jewish people, this is what they longed for. This is how they interpreted the prophets. And for Peter, Jesus was the hoped-for Messiah.   Challenging authority, leading with confidence and power, teaching and healing in the name of God. So, of course, Peter imagined that Jesus would lead them into a great battle and restore all of Israel to the Jewish people.

 

But the problem is that that’s not what Jesus has told them would happen.

 

Peter confidently declares Christ as Messiah, yet his naming is selfish.  It’s rooted in his own understanding, his own hope and expectation. Jesus, you’re our Messiah, long awaited, and our expected Messiah is what you are and will be for us.

 

Peter certainly isn’t the first, nor the last person to define Jesus from his own perspective, hope, and expectation.  For as long as Christ has been proclaimed, the world has found a way to pigeonhole, define, limit, manipulate, or interpret the proclamation of the gospel to best suit their personal need, agenda, or hope.  For centuries, the name of Christ, the Messiah, the son of God, has been confidently, yet falsely proclaimed to attack, defend, or justify human ambition and action. Human things. And when Christ is interpreted and proclaimed out of personal pride, preference, or perspective, then we abuse both the power and humility of the gospel message.  

Peter’s hopes for a Messiah aren’t drastically different than our own.

 

But the word of warning in today’s Gospel is that Jesus, the Messiah, the son of God and son of man will break all of the disciples expectations and even our own. We don’t get to define Christ according to our own expectations, even in our best of intentions.

 

Rather we are defined by Christ.  We live, move, and have our very being by grace in Jesus, the son of man, the son of God, the Messiah.  And our Messiah is one who exceeds all expectations, leading with humility and grace. Jesus will restore, redeem, and set free, but he’ll do so in the most contrary way to the world’s expectations. Rather than lead with force, and power, conquering adversaries and punishing the oppressors. Jesus will willingly and knowingly undergo suffering. He’ll be rejected with humility and grace. He’ll give up his life for the sake of the world.  So all people might have life and life abundant.

This is our Messiah.  And if we ever hope to faithfully proclaim and worship Jesus as our true Messiah, then our call is to follow Jesus.  To lay down our life, and inward, selfish ambition, expectation, or hope, and follow. We must form our lives not for ourselves or our own greed and expectations, but for one another, for the whole world, and for all of creation. If we only proclaim Jesus as the true Messiah without understand exactly what being the Messiah means: a humble servant, who is willing to carry the cross and die upon it… then being his followers is all for nothing. Unless we form ourselves to his example and take up own own cross, then we can never truly to his disciples. 

…

 

Who do we say Jesus is?  Make no mistake my friends, this is a question that the world is asking even today, and the world is groaning for an answer that is faithful.  Who do you say that Jesus is? What is our response? Is it simply enough to say, “He is the Messiah”? Or will our expectations get in the way?  

 

Some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, some prophet.

 

Who do you say Jesus is?

Some the Messiah, a king of kings, a mighty ruler. Some say the son of man and son of God.  Some say Lord, healer, and teacher.  Some say redeemer.

 

But perhaps the most powerful answer of all might be, “come, let me show you…” as we humble ourselves to love for our neighbors. 

Amen.

Mystery of the Meal - Redeemer Episcopal Church

 John 6:35, 41-51

35 Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.

41 Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” 42 They were saying, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” 43 Jesus answered them, “Do not complain among yourselves. 44 No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. 45 It is written in the prophets, ‘And they shall all be taught by God.’ Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me. 46 Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father. 47 Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. 48 I am the bread of life. 49 Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. 50 This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

God of everlasting life, help us to embrace the mystery of the meal you have set before us, and the goodness of your son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

We are on our third Sunday of Jesus talking about bread. And we will be talking about it for another three weeks after this too. If you have heard me preach more than twice, you may have noticed that the meal that we share at this table is my favorite thing in the world. It’s my favorite thing to preach about, talk about at parties, lead faith formation classes on, and it is especially my favorite thing that we share together as a community. I love the Holy Eucharist. So a couple of Sundays talking about bread is right up my alley. 

On campus, I talk about the Eucharist a lot too— But mostly in the context of the meals that we eat together. Every single week, we get together for what we call Food for Thought, which is centered around a shared meal. My students think I’m just really enthusiastic about food because I DO feed them every chance I get. 

At the end of the last semester, I invited all of our students out to a restaurant to celebrate making it through the year. It was the only time we were able to meet in person together the entire year. All my students came and many of them brought friends that I had never met before. I ushered them all up to the line to order their food and told the cashier, “I’ll pay for all of it at the end.” My students who know me, knew this was a totally normal thing for me to do, but the new students were flabbergasted. Why would I pay for their meal? Well, that’s just how we do things here. 

My students really do just think I’m a food enthusiast. And I do like eating, obviously. And, of course, this is the reality of ministry with young adults— we are always hungry. And much of the time, students are wondering where they are going to get their next meal. But I think it also tells us something theologically, that our ministry is based around a shared meal— our bodies matter. Being fed is important. Sharing a meal together is holy. And hospitality is sacred.  

In these stories of Jesus talking to the crowds about bread, moves further and further away from the physical bread with which he fed the crowds and becomes more and more theological, and more and more scandalous in what he is telling them.  

But I think it’s important to remember that Jesus DID start with the people’s physical hunger. He didn’t ignore their bodies and tell them that they were encountering the bread of heaven. No, he attended to their physical hunger and fed them with an abundance— so much so that there was more than enough left over. He had to satisfy their physical hunger, so that they might be able to tune in to the hunger in their hearts. They began to understand that they were not hungry for bread and fish any longer, but for Jesus’ teaching, so he began teaching them about who he is and what his life would mean for them and for the entire world. 

This morning, Jesus’ teaching takes a turn when he makes some heavenly claims— “I am the bread of life that came from heaven.” And the crowd seems to have a real issue with this. 

“You’re Joseph and Mary’s son! You’re from this town— we know where you came from and it wasn’t heaven!” 

They felt like they knew Jesus, or at the very least, they knew his parents. And because they were so familiar with him and his story, it made it hard for them to believe that he was extraordinary. Of course he couldn’t have come from God— we know he grew up with normal parents in our normal town. 

Now when the crowd begins to grumble, Jesus has the ability to do what most of us would do in this situation. He could backtrack and make his claims a little less offensive. Claim that he misspoke and that he didn’t mean that he’s ACTUALLY from heaven. He could try to make his claims a little more palatable for the crowd so that they might be able to understand it better. 

But instead he makes his claims even more scandalous, even more offensive. He doubles down and says that not only is he the bread from heaven, but that people will eat of this bread, they will come to him, and they will have eternal life. 

Their physical hunger was satisfied, but their longing for Christ had only just begun.

Jesus’ words here bring to question what it means for the crowd to follow him. Jesus wants to make it clear that walking with him is no peaceful stroll. In fact, he says, it will cost him his life. 

But it is impossible for the crowd to even understand Jesus’ origins. So how will they understand his journey and his destination at the cross? It doesn’t make any sense that Jesus will have to die in order to provide life for the world. They only understand him as ordinary Jesus, the son of Mary and Joseph. They don’t know him as who he who truly was, and is, and is to come. 

“The bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” Those words simply don’t make sense to the crowd. I’m not sure they make much sense to us. Of course, we do have the advantage of knowing the rest of the story— and about two thousand years of people talking about the rest of the story. But perhaps that is the reason we keep telling this story, the reason it has endured for 2000 years, why we keep coming back to church each week to hear it again— because we don’t totally understand it but something in it captures us. 

I think, perhaps, this is why Holy Eucharist is so compelling to me. Because God takes something that is so familiar to us— bread and wine— and it is the body and blood of our Lord… and this simple meal is the beginning of eternal life for us. It is the foretaste of what is to come for us as we continue walking this path with Jesus. We come to this table every week with the expectation that God will be present here, and yet we are surprised and confused every time. What God does at this meal doesn’t make any sense at all. And yet… it is. 

Jesus’ claims that he is the bread from heaven… his claim that the bread he will give for the life of the world is his flesh… they don’t make sense. And yet the people will continue to follow him, continue to long for his teaching. They will follow him all the way until his death on a cross. And then they still won’t understand. But they will continue to chase after this mystery, as we do now. Only to be satisfying by what first kept them wanting more. The ordinary bread that is not just ordinary bread. The wine that is not just ordinary wine. The bread from heaven, here at this table, in this holy community. Amen. 

Give & Forgive, Get & Forget - Redeemer Episcopal Church

 John 6:24-35

So when the crowd saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum looking for Jesus.

When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal.” Then they said to him, “What must we do to perform the works of God?” Jesus answered them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.” So they said to him, “What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’” Then Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.”
Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.


This sermon is going to be a lot better if you listen to it rather than read it. But even then, it's not my favorite sermon. But here it is. Listen to it here. 


God of miracles, open our eyes to the ways you are working in this world. Provide for us the bread of everlasting life, through the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. 

Last week we heard the story of Jesus sitting the crowds down and feeding them, despite starting the story with not actually having enough food for everyone. By anyone’s standards, it was a miracle, it was a “sign” from God, that Jesus was the real deal. And surprising no one, even more people began following Jesus— literally following him around everywhere. That’s where the story picks up this morning. Jesus and his disciples had left after feeding them and the crowd goes looking for him. 

Once the crowd catches us to them, Jesus quickly says that the people are not following him for the right reasons. They are following him because they were fed by the bread and the fish. Now, I don’t really blame them for that. Think about it— imagine following a leader that could always provide enough food for you and your family. Even today, I’m thinking about how much grocery money that would save me every week. In that time, if you weren’t the richest of the rich folks in town, your entire life was pretty much preoccupied with making sure you had the resources to feed yourself and your family. So the allure of someone being able to provide that to you— for free— would be quite strong. 

So the crowd catches up to Jesus and the scene then goes back and forth between Jesus and the crowd, with the crowd asking questions and Jesus giving cryptic insight into his work and purpose in the world. 

It’s obvious that the crowd isn’t really understanding anything that Jesus is saying. They keep asking the wrong questions. Even the very first question “when did you come here?” isn’t the right question. But when Jesus says that the work of God is to believe in him who God has sent, the crowd really doubles down on their nonsense and silly questions. 

“If we’re going to believe, you’ll have to give us a sign— what kind of work are you going to perform? Give us a miracle, Jesus! Prove that you’re the one who God sent.” Just yesterday they witnessed and benefitted from the miracle of more than enough food for the whole crowd and today they ask, “well, what else ya got?” God gives and forgives, while God’s people get and forget. 

We heard another story this morning that is a warning of what happens when we forget about what God is doing in the world. Nathan is sent to set David straight after what he has done to Uriah and Uriah’s wife Bathsheba. Nathan reminds David of all the things God has done for him: anointing him king over Israel, rescuing him from the hand of Saul, giving him a house and wives, and the whole kingdom. I give and forgive, God says. 

But none of that was good enough for David and he was jealous for his soldier’s wife and even sent his soldier to die so that he could have Bathsheba for himself. David got and forgot what God had given him. 

How often do we do this in our lives? We start bargaining— “okay, God if you really want me to keep believing, then I’m going to need a miracle or a sign that you’re still around!” And usually it has to do with our resources, not our faith. We want to get this job promotion or win the bid on this house, we want to be just a little more financially secure or a bit healthier. Show us a miracle, a sign that you are definitely real, and we will definitely come back to church, God. 
We completely forget about the ways God is showing up in our own lives or we point to the ways God has showed up in other people’s lives— THEY seem to have it easy, why can’t God give me THAT? How often do we get and forget? 

We’re not really any different than the crowd in this story, and perhaps we aren’t too far removed from David either. We receive blessings upon blessings, God continues to show up because God is continually faithful to us. And yet, we only understand the language of “more.” 
The crowd witnesses and incredible miracle and then holds out their hands for more signs, more miracles, more proof. And if this weren’t an offensive suggestion to Jesus in the first place. The crowd then says, “well, MOSES gave the people manna from heaven. Can you do that?”

It’s a bit ironic that they would point to Moses and the manna in the wilderness because God sent manna because the people were so ungrateful after God delivered them out of slavery. God had just done this big huge, amazing thing in leading the people out of the hands of the Egyptians and they forgot so quickly. Just like this crowd— they were given enough food to eat their fill with so much left over, yet they look to Jesus ungratefully and say “well, what kind of miracle can you do for us?” God gives and forgives. And God’s people get and forget. 

The crowd is too focused on the past and what God has done before for other people, that they miss what God is doing right now and the miracles and signs they are witnessing right in front of them. If they had been able to focus on the present, on what they were witnessing in the person of Jesus, they’d have seen that Jesus wasn’t like Moses providing the manna at all— he WAS the manna, sent from heaven, to be nourishment and give ever-lasting life. 

Oftentimes, we can get caught up in the past. I know I keep hearing myself say things like, “before the pandemic” and the phrase “pre-pandemic” is repeated in conversations all day long. I long for it, I know you long for it too. It’s difficult to even remember sometimes— I think about how casually I’d shake someone’s hand or reach out for a hug when greeting someone. 
And there are bigger losses too— the way I could just jump on a plane with my kids to visit family, sharing fellowship with my students and being present with people when they are sick. We might look back fondly on that time before the pandemic, but we also must look at what God is doing now— entrusting us to be kind to one another, to protect one another, and care deeply for one another. We have the opportunity to pay attention to the blessings that God is providing for us today, instead of dwelling in the past. 

Churches particularly like to dwell in the past, don’t we? We LOVE to point to that time when our congregation was large and the pew where filled with people. But God is doing some incredible things RIGHT NOW in this community and we can pay attention to that, rejoice in that. The sustenance that God is providing, the miracle that we are seeing today looks like the food pantry that continues to thrive, the campus ministry that has adapted and continues to minister in different ways to our community. We can take notice of things like the Sacred Ground program, and know that God is at work here, leading us into the future of God’s kingdom. And, perhaps, one of the most important things God is doing right now, is leading us toward our next bishop. But we have to be paying attention.

This morning, as we eat the body and blood of Jesus at this table, be reminded of how God has provided for us. Notice what a miracle this is, a miracle that we have the privilege to witness and benefit from every single week. 

When we tune our ears to Jesus and we begin seeing God’s provisions as miracles, we will see that God gives and forgives. Over and over again, day after day, out of God’s abundant generosity and love for us. Now let us not get and forget. Amen. 

Worship as Self-Care and Community-Care - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

Feeding the Five Thousand

The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.

When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him, and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.

___________________________

This sermon was originally preached by me, to a certain people in a certain time and place, but we believe in the power of the Spirit, so it might touch you as well. 

It is GOOD to be back with you all. The last eight weeks or so have been wonderful for our family as it expanded and I am so grateful for the time that we were able to spend together in our little bubble as we got to know our daughter. 

AND it was HARD. Of course, we have a newborn again and that comes with all sorts of challenges and exhaustion, but one of the hardest parts for me was that I do not rest well. I am not someone who sits for very long. Even when recovering from childbirth. I’m a busybody— the kind of person who used to make to do lists during church. 

We all know that God has a good sense of humor, which I think is why we heard this text this morning. Of course my first sermon back from parental leave would be about rest— or perhaps about looking for rest. 

Last week we heard about God, who perched on the Ark of Covenant. The people believed that God would come and go as God pleased and that they could provide a resting place for God in their community with a tabernacle and ark. But, as Father Wiley said, we know that God has come to us in the person of Jesus— the God that we worship is incarnate, in flesh and blood— a real living person with whom we can have a relationship. With whom we DO have a relationship. 

In the reading this morning, the apostles were returning from their mission that Jesus had sent them on to go into the towns and cities to heal and to proclaim the coming of the Kingdom of God. When they came back from the towns, the crowds were constantly trying to find them— apparently news had spread quite effectively about Jesus and his band of followers… It was getting so crowded and the people were so desperate to see Jesus that the apostles barely had any time to even eat by themselves. 

“Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” Jesus tells them. But even this didn’t work because people recognized them and got to their resting place first and continued to press in on Jesus and the apostles. Now, if I were one of the apostles, I would be pretty upset by this— they had just traveled all over the country and now they were ready to rest a little bit. They just wanted to eat dinner in peace! That couldn’t be too much to ask. I’d be wanting Jesus to put his foot down and send the crowds away so I could rest a while. 

What we are seeing in this story is not only that the apostles are feeling overworked and overwhelmed by the persistent crowds, but the other side of it is that we see hundreds and even thousands of people who are so desperate for the teachings of Jesus that they follow Jesus and the apostles around all over the country, not even stopping for food for themselves. 

As our world moves back into its rhythm of overwork and go go go, I think we are going to start to feel a similar kind of weariness and maybe even desperation— we might feel a bit like the apostles AND a bit like the crowds all at once. And when that happens, people are going to tell us about what we tend to call “self care” or “rest” as a resistance to this overwork. We’ll hear about how we need to take time for ourselves and care for ourselves. I heard a lot of this during the last eight weeks— I needed to take some time to take care of myself. What they mean most of the time is that I should take a bubble bath or get a massage.

And there is certainly nothing wrong with self-care in the form of things like massages and bubble baths or beach vacations. But the weariness I felt over the last few weeks wasn’t going to be cured by taking a walk or reading a novel. I think the weariness of the past year and a half is going to show us that we need something more than superficial self-care. We are going to find ourselves both just like the apostles— needing “Come away to a deserted place all by ourselves and rest a while”— and also like the crowds— so desperate for Jesus and his teaching and healing that we press in from all sides. 

I loved what Father Wiley said about worship last week— what if our perspective changes and we GOT to go to worship instead of feeling like we HAVE to go to worship? How would that change our experience of God? Worship as a privilege instead of obligation. As someone who grew up very much feeling like worship was just an obligation, I can understand if you’re not quite there yet, if you’re not quite to the point where worship feels like a celebration or a place where we can dance. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I began to feel that myself. But then, I realized, worship is part of my deep-needed spiritual self-care. 

Worship is a privilege and a celebration, but it’s also more than that— it’s the root from which we gain our nourishment, it is absolutely necessary for our life with God. And I’m a campus pastor— I would never ever say that we can only worship God in THIS building. Or even that this building is better fit for worship than anywhere else in the world. BUT… if your life is anything like mine, it does not give many opportunities to sit and rest with God, to be quiet and listen to God’s Word speaking into my life. When people ask me about my spiritual life during the week, I might mention something about reading the Bible when I’m preparing my sermons, but it really is sometimes ONLY Sunday mornings when I take enough time and sit quietly enough to listen to God. 

That is the power of worship in this space. It is within these walls that everything else falls away. It is in this place, and during THIS particular time that we set aside other obligations and, if we allow ourselves, it is here that we come away to rest a while. It’s not that God won’t meet us in other places of our lives, and indeed, God is always present. But here in this place? This is where WE can show up to be attentive to God, this is where we can truly rest and be healed because there is power in these rituals, in the routine of standing and sitting, praying and singing, our worship is embodied just like our God.

My hope for you is that you might feel the desperation of the crowds. That you might ache for his teaching, so much so that you’re willing to sit at his feet hungry, believing that he will provide you will more than enough. I hope that we might know what it means to need Jesus and the healing he provides that we press in close, just to touch the fringe of his cloak. And I hope that you might know that you are invited here— to this place, in this time, to this table, and this community— to be nourished and healed and be taught by our incarnate and ever-compassionate God. Amen. 

"You are Witnesses of These Things" - Redeemer Episcopal Church

 Luke 24:36b-48

Jesus Appears to His Disciples

36 While they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” 37 They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. 38 He said to them, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? 39 Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” 40 And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. 41 While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, “Have you anything here to eat?” 42 They gave him a piece of broiled fish, 43 and he took it and ate in their presence.

44 Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.” 45 Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, 46 and he said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, 47 and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. 48 You are witnesses of these things.

God of grace and mercy, help us to understand our new identity as witnesses to Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection in the world, its importance to your mission in this season of Easter. Amen. 

The very last line of this morning’s gospel text strikes me. “You are witnesses of these things,” Jesus says. It’s a statement, not a question or even a command or commission. Jesus doesn’t say, “are you ready to be witnesses?” Or “whenever it’s convenient I’d like for you to be witnesses” or “in the next couple of years, please go be witnesses.” Jesus says, “you are witnesses of these things.” It is a declaration. For the disciples, being witnesses is not voluntary, it is a state of being. It is undeniably a part of their identity now because of what Christ has done in his life, death, and resurrection. 

I remember when I was younger, I would watch my dad leave for work wearing a flight suit and combat boots— his uniform as a pilot in the army. It was part of his identity and who he was for nearly 22 years, and in many ways it is still a part of his identity. But every evening he would come home and take that uniform off and I didn’t think of him as an Army pilot, but just as my dad, who let me put flowery clips in his hair and paint his nails on the weekend. 

There are many professions that have uniforms or certain dress codes, but we don’t wear those uniforms all the time. We take off the chef’s coat or the scrubs or the construction hat or the suit and tie and we can be seen as someone other than our profession or our job. In that way, what we do doesn’t have to be who we are. On the weekends or in the evenings, whenever we “clock out,” we can be someone or something entirely different if we want to. Just by changing our clothes. 

But that is not the case with our identity in Christ Jesus. 

This is what we learn when Jesus declares, “you are witnesses.” And this is what we hear at the beginning of the second reading: we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. We are God’s children now. This is the declaration we hear in our baptismal vows— whether we hear them when we are babies and our family and friends are making vows on our behalf or later in life— we are named and claimed as God’s children. 

When the waters of baptism wash over us, and when we are marked with the sign of the cross in oil, we are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own for ever. And most of us affirm these vows and this commitment to Christ again in our confirmation and every time we witness another baptism in our community. Our identity is changed forever in that holy sacrament. 

The water that has cleansed us, the oil that has sealed a cross on our foreheads is not something that can be taken off. It doesn’t matter if we wear a cross necklace some days or a t-shirt announcing our Christianity to the world. God has made a declaration to us, that we are God’s children and our new identity in Christ not something we put on and take off like a jacket. It is who we are. 

In that way, our identity as witnesses, just like the disciples, is also who we are. What we do and say, how we treat others, how we interact with the world, is all witnessing to who we are as God’s children. 

Last week, I left you with a series of questions about if the resurrection made any difference at all in our lives. And this week Jesus declares that it does. Not that the resurrection should change us or that it has the potential change us, but that it does change us. Because we are witnesses to the risen Christ, and are baptized in the Spirit, we have been changed whether we completely understand it or not. 

And because of this change— our language, our behavior, our words and actions not only witness to who we are as children of God, but also how others see God to be. Let me repeat that— the way people see us is how people see God. We are never NOT giving witness to God in the world. 

And that is important to remember as we are faced with tragedy after tragedy across our country, it’s important to remember as we re-enter the world in public witness in person, and as we care for creation and one another after so much loss and as we continue to be faced with difficult times. We are witnesses not only to the wounds that Jesus shows us in his hands and his feet, but we touch and see that Jesus has been resurrected. And we are also witnesses to the wounds of this world. We are witnesses to the wounds of our siblings and to the re-creation that God is bringing about in the world through redemption and reconciliation.

There is no season like the season of Easter to get used to this witnessing. To be continually reminded that in everything we do, in everything we say, as well as everything we don’t do and everything we don’t say, we are witnessing to who we are are whose we are in light of the resurrection, the light of the flesh and blood of our Christ who meets us here in our own wounds, in the promise of our own resurrection. Amen. 

Labels & Boxes - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Matthew 11:16-30 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

16 “But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another,

17 ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;
    we wailed, and you did not mourn.’

18 For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; 19 the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”

25 At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; 26 yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. 27 All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

28 “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

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I preached this sermon for our pre-recorded Morning Prayer for July 5, 2020 at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, Florida. It is preached to a specific people in a specific time and place, but I believe that God can transcend that and I hope it might also speak to you. You can listen to the raw recording of the sermon here.

If you are one of my friends who forced me to go to Chick-fil-A that day in seminary, then I'm still kind of mad at you because Chick-fil-A has trash politics. And also lol, I was so pretentious back then (still am). 

One of my favorite stories from seminary was one of the first times my husband and I spent time off campus. We went to a fast food restaurant with a few other people we barely knew, and started chatting like new friends do. Everyone was asking different questions rapid fire about each other’s lives: are you a liberal or conservative, where are you from, what denomination are you, were you a camp counselor, did you attend campus ministry? 

These were all questions that were seemingly innocuous, but had a very specific purpose. They would put each of us in a certain “box.” Each question said enough about the one answering to allow everyone else to make broad assumptions about them. I got quiet during parts of the conversation and Daniel asked why. “I don’t like labels,” I said, “I’d rather people just get to know me instead of putting me in some kind of box.” 

It has been seven or so years since that conversation, but Daniel, my husband, brings it up every so often when I label myself in some way. “I thought you hated labels” he’ll say. “No,” I reply, “I hate the box.” 

Right before the gospel text we hear this morning, Jesus has instructed his twelve disciples and sent them on their way. Then John the Baptizer, who is in jail, sends word that Jesus is out preaching and sends all of his followers to go listen to him. John’s disciples question Jesus and Jesus sends them back to John, telling them to tell John everything they’d heard and seen: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.

Then Jesus begins speaking to the crowds that had gathered around him. This is where our reading for this morning picks up: right in the middle of Jesus’ teaching. He seems annoyed that people continue to question him and John the Baptizer, even though the people had seen great signs being performed by these men. Still they doubted. But why? 

It’s easy for us to see, 2000 years removed, that Jesus was fulfilling all sorts of prophecies, so it’s unfathomable that the people wouldn’t believe that he was the Son of God. But people had… expectations of the messiah. When someone came with the label “messiah,” there was a box that people put him in. 

“What is the messiah supposed to look like?” Jesus asks. John came and lives an austere lifestyle: he didn’t eat or drink like an old-school prophet and people doubted him— more than that, they said he had a demon!

Then on the other hand, Jesus came and ate and drank and gathered with sinners and people called him a glutton and a drunkard. 

What then, was the messiah supposed to look like? Jesus asks. 

Jesus seems a bit frustrated by being forced into box because of who he associates with and people’s pre-judgements about who the messiah is. He calls the crowd foolish children playing in the market. 

They cannot see the truth that is right in front of them. The truth of Jesus’ true identity. 

I think about all of the ways people are misunderstood today due to stereotypes. We assume we know something based on a tiny detail, like where she grew up or where they went to school, or their gender or his age or the color of his skin— any number of things that do not capture the complexity of how we are as individuals. And these stereotypes that we assign to people, these boxes that we put them into based on these small aspects of their lives, can be dangerous. At the very least, it takes away from the unique child that God knit as an individual. And in some cases it leads to discrimination and violence, it has even led to the genocide of entire peoples. 

In Jesus’ case, the assumptions that his community and the religious authorities made about him led to his arrest and death. Because they didn’t recognize Jesus for who he really was— a child of God, THE child of God, the messiah.

How often do we do this? Pre-judging people for the company that they keep, the color of their skin, their sexual orientation, or where they are from. How often has it lead to deep and abiding pain in our community, our country, and our world? 

Yet Jesus says that wisdom is vindicated by her deeds. 

And we worship a God who DID something. We worship a God who broke all of the preconceived notions of a deity and become flesh in the form of a tiny baby to a poor unknown family. We worship a God who threw off the labels of the world and gave sight to the blind, healed the sick, cleansed the lepers, raised the dead, and brought good news to the poor. We worship a God who takes the stereotypical and prejudiced boxes of this world, turns them upside down, and smashes them to bits. 

We worship a God who peels away the labels of our lives, peels away the labels that we have given ourselves and the ones that have been forced upon us. And declares that the labels of this world are nothing. And we worship the God who took nothing… and made everything. 

God, who created the entire expanse of the universe washes us so completely the waters of baptism and then declares, “You are my beloved. You are my child. Look at what I have done for you.”

And then God invites us into the story. To look beyond the boxes of sin, death, and the devil and begin to imagine and understand the world that God has promised to us and has begun in us through Christ Jesus. A world without labels or boxes, except the only true one identity that matters: you are a child a God. Amen. 

Season of Growth - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Matthew 9:35 - 10:23

³⁵Then Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and curing every disease and every sickness. ³⁶When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. ³⁷Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; ³⁸therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

Then Jesus summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness. ²These are the names of the twelve apostles: first, Simon, also known as Peter, and his brother Andrew; James son of Zebedee, and his brother John; ³Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew the tax collector; James son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus;⁴ Simon the Cananaean, and Judas Iscariot, the one who betrayed him.

⁵These twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions: “Go nowhere among the Gentiles, and enter no town of the Samaritans, ⁶but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. ⁷As you go, proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ ⁸Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons. You received without payment; give without payment. ⁹Take no gold, or silver, or copper in your belts, ¹⁰no bag for your journey, or two tunics, or sandals, or a staff; for laborers deserve their food. ¹¹Whatever town or village you enter, find out who in it is worthy, and stay there until you leave. ¹²As you enter the house, greet it. ¹³If the house is worthy, let your peace come upon it; but if it is not worthy, let your peace return to you. ¹⁴If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet as you leave that house or town. ¹⁵Truly I tell you, it will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that town.

¹⁶“See, I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. ¹⁷Beware of them, for they will hand you over to councils and flog you in their synagogues; ¹⁸and you will be dragged before governors and kings because of me, as a testimony to them and the Gentiles. ¹⁹When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say; for what you are to say will be given to you at that time; ²⁰for it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. ²¹Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death; ²²and you will be hated by all because of my name. But the one who endures to the end will be saved.²³When they persecute you in one town, flee to the next; for truly I tell you, you will not have gone through all the towns of Israel before the Son of Man comes.

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This sermon was preached for God's people at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, Florida on June 14, 2020. As God can speak to us in many times and places, I hope that this word might speak to others in many times and places. You can read the sermon below, watch the entire worship service at this link, or listen to the recording of the sermon at this link. 

Let us pray. 

God of sowing and reaping, healing and reconciliation, reveal to us your desire for us. Make your presence known to us so that we might be empowered by the Holy Spirit to proclaim the good news, cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons.

Welcome to the season after Pentecost! I find the seasons of the church year to be pretty incredible. I know that I have talked about the church calendar before. And I know that the liturgical calendar is no accident, and that it took many people over a long period of time to come up with the readings and patterns for what we now called the Revised Common Lectionary. But, with very few exceptions, they seem to have gotten it right. Advent and Lent are two of my favorite seasons because of the way the readings are structured and we are able to anticipate what is coming next in God’s story of Christ Jesus. 

But the season after Pentecost— what some people would call "ordinary time” or the “down time” of the church— is really something special too. I certainly wouldn’t call it “ordinary time.” If we really focus in on the stories God is telling during this time, we will be able to see this as a time of extraordinary grace from our extraordinary God. 

This is the first Sunday that really kicks of the season after Pentecost. There is a theme in "time after Pentecost” readings. We’ll hear a lot of parables— in fact, out of the 22 Gospel readings on the Sundays in the time after Pentecost, ten of them will be parables that Jesus tells his disciples. And every other reading is about what Jesus did in his life of ministry— feeding people, walking on water, exorcising demons, healing people— and about Jesus’ teaching like the Beatitudes and the greatest commandment. 

So it absolutely makes sense that we would kick off this season with these readings. Two weeks ago, we had the birthday of the church, when the Holy Spirit descended upon hundred of people and they were able to speak to one another and prophesy about God’s glory. Now we have a whole season telling stories of how God has equipped and continues to equip the church for God’s mission in the world. 

Two Sundays ago, God said, “I give you the gift of the Holy Spirit” and now, today, God says, “Here’s what it looks like to use that gift.” 

What it looks like is what the Gospel tells us that Jesus did — he went out to all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and curing every disease and every sickness. 

It looks like Jesus who had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

It is no coincidence that these words are echoed in the next few verses when Jesus calls his disciples to go out into the world. 

There are other places in the Bible where Jesus’ command or teaching leaves us scratching our heads and wondering what we are supposed to do, like the many parables we will hear this season. But this is not one of those places. 

This mission is not one that they must work out on their own. Jesus gives specific instructions on where to go and who to visit, on what to say and what to do.

He gave the disciples authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness. And he gives them these instructions: As you go, proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ ⁸Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons.

We were given the gift of the Holy Spirit at our baptism. Using the gift of the Holy Spirit looks like liberation and healing, not just by Christ but by his disciples as well. 

The disciples are called to imitate the teacher. A disciple is, by definition, just like an apprentice, called to follow behind the teacher and imitating what they do until the disciple is able to do the same thing. 

That’s what it means to be a follower of Christ in this day and age too. We are called to the same things to which the disciples where first called. To follow Christ is not just to observe him and his actions, not just walk next to him throughout our lives. To follow Christ is the first action in becoming his disciple, the next step is to imitate him. God’s grace is given to us so freely not so we can stay the same and do nothing, but so that we can live into that grace and proclaim that grace through our actions as imitations of Christ. 

The season after Pentecost’s liturgical color is green. It symbolizes the growth that we are called to experience during this time. Growth that both calls us closer to God and calls us to being more like Christ. And my beloved siblings, this growth is difficult. This growth is sometimes painful. But it is growth that is so desperately needed in this world. We need more people who imitate Christ in this world.

Growing into an imitation of Christ is going to take a lot of work, and we are going to make mistakes along the way. But God has given us the gift of God’s very presence in the Holy Spirit to assist us, to cure every disease and every sickness. God has given us the Spirit so that As we go, we might proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ ⁸Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons.

God is calling us to this difficult work of reconciliation, healing, and liberation. Because this world needs it. The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few, Jesus says. 

So over these next few weeks and months, remember that we are in the time after Pentecost, the green season, the season of growth. And as we become more acutely aware of the growing pains of our world, our government, and our society, God is inviting us to recognize the growth places and the growing pains in our own lives, in our own journeys as we work toward imitating Christ and God’s work in the world through the Holy Spirit. 

Amen.