23rd Sunday after Pentecost, November 16, 2014

Collect for the Day (Proper 28): Blessed Lord, who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

 Reflections:  We pray to “so hear, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest” holy scripture. The “so” suggests a skill, a way of attending that is different from how we normally pay attention. Like life, scripture isn’t merely information for the mind; it is food to digest, mystery to ponder. The traditional practice of lectio divina, sacred reading developed in the monasteries, to cultivate the attention of the whole being first to scripture, then to life itself. To listen deeply lies at the heart of all our relationships—to ourselves, to others, and to the Divine; to listen deeply is the character of love.

First Lesson: Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18

Be silent before the Lord GOD! For the day of the LORD is at hand; the LORD has prepared a sacrifice, he has consecrated his guests. At that time I will search Jerusalem with lamps, and I will punish the people who rest complacently on their dregs, those who say in their hearts, “The LORD will not do good, nor will he do harm.” Their wealth shall be plundered, and their houses laid waste. Though they build houses, they shall not inhabit them; though they plant vineyards, they shall not drink wine from them. The great day of the LORD is near, near and hastening fast; the sound of the day of the LORD is bitter, the warrior cries aloud there. That day will be a day of wrath, a day of distress and anguish, a day of ruin and devastation, a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness, and day of trumpet blast and battle cry against the fortified cities and against the lofty battlements. I will bring such distress upon people that they shall walk like the blind; because they have sinned against the lord, their blood shall be poured out like dust, and their flesh like dung. Neither their silver nor their gold will be able to save them on the day of the LORD’s wrath; in the fire of his passion the whole earth shall be consumed; for a full, a terrible end, he will make of all the inhabitants of the earth.

Reflections on the First Reading: Addressed to a self-satisfied and complacent people, this prophetic passage warns that the Day of the Lord will not confirm their comfort or their status. It will confront them with the superficiality of their way of life and the values that support it. What does God desire of us? What does God call us to do and to be?

 Psalm 90

Lord, you have been our refuge* from one generation to another.
Before the mountains were brought forth, or the land and the earth were born* from age to age you are God.
You turn us back to the dust and say* Go back, O child of earth.
For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past* and like a watch in the night.
You sweep us away like a dream* we fade away suddenly like the grass.
In the morning it is green and flourishes;* in the evening it is dried up and withered.
For we consume away in your displeasure;* we are afraid because of your wrathful indignation.
Our iniquities you have set before you,* and our secret sins in the light of your countenance.
When you are angry, all our days are gone;* we bring our years to an end like a sigh.
The span of our life is seventy years, perhaps in strength even eighty* yet the sum of them is but labor and sorrow, for they pass away quickly and we are gone.
Who regards the power of your wrath?* Who rightly fears your indignation?
So teach us to number our days* that we may apply our hearts to wisdom.

Reflections on the Psalm: The psalmist sets side by side the eternal and the mortal, which certainly puts our preoccupations in perspective. Such a beautiful, humbling psalm. We are fleeting, insignificant—yet we are beloved by none other than God.

Epistle: 1 Thessalonians 5: 1-11

Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers and sisters, you do not need to have anything written to you. For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. When they say, “There is peace and security,” then sudden destruction will come upon them, as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and there will be no escape! But you, beloved, are not in darkness, for that day to surprise you like a thief; for you are all children of light and children of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness. So then let us not fall asleep as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober; for those who sleep sleep at night, and those who are drunk get drunk at night. But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him. Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing.

Reflections on the Epistle:
And the warnings continue! But for all their predictions of wrath and punishment, apocalyptic texts do not look backwards to what we have been, but forwards to who we are becoming. Paul invites us to live into our destiny.
         

In this text, St. Paul continues to address the church’s concern about the believers who have passed away before (imminently expected) Coming of Christ. But we need not worry about those whom God loves. Their destiny is Christ. And our own is bound up with them.

Gospel: Matthew 25:14-30

For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents (valued at more than fifteen years’ wages of a laborer), to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ But his master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest. So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

Reflections:  Like you, I’ve heard this parable numerous times, and I’ve heard my share of homiletic attempts to unpack it, with varying degrees of success. It’s clearly unsettling. In last Sunday’s parable, the bridegroom (a figure we interpret as Christ) disowned the foolish virgins. This week a slave master with dubious business practices casts out his meekest slave/servant. “This equates with Christ?” we ask, horrified. How can we not feel sympathetic towards the slave who buried the money?

          In her sermon, Mother Karen shared with us that a talent in the culture of the time was the highest unit of value—say, the wages of a lifetime—or of multiple lifetimes. She pointed out that the master does not micromanage the wealth he distributes before leaving; he leaves it up to the guardians of the wealth to do with it as they see fit. What a risk he takes in doing that, especially if we consider that he has amassed his wealth by questionable means.
          So, while the slaves are not given equal amounts, they are equally free to choose what to do with it. Upon his return, the master rewards the servants, not by how much they have increased the wealth, but according to what they have done with it.        
          The third servant, trembling under the master’s gaze, returns the talent. He has neither invested nor embezzled the money. Surely that speaks of his good character. But the master wants something else. The master wants the servant to have invested himself by using the resources at his disposal. I have been tempted to excuse the third servant’s behavior because he knows the master is a hard, unethical man. However, as Mother Karen pointed out, if the servant had really feared the master, he would have scrambled to get a return on the talent. The servant’s “fear” is an unconvincing excuse.
          While clearly the master and Christ aren’t very similar at all, Mother Karen identified a central message for us. Like the characters in the parable, we too are servants of a Master, and we have all been freely given gifts that, like the talents, are too great for us to get our heads around. Moreover, the gifts are as unique as we are. The gifts are not to be hidden away, but courageously embraced and shared.
          The apocalyptic context of this reading once again reminds us that life is short; our time is precious. And so we must ask ourselves: How do we relate to our gifts, to our givenness? What gifts and talents do we pretend not we do not have? What interests do we not dare follow? How can we live into see and embrace opportunities God extends to us? In what ways are we timid? What are we afraid of?  
          Ultimately, to be “cast out into the outer darkness,” is to close our eyes and turn away from God here and now. For God’s gifts are themselves grace, sacramentum, God’s gift of Godself, God present to us, and to the world in us and through us. May we embrace the possibilities with joy.

22nd Sunday After Pentecost, November 9, 2014

Joshua 24:1-3A, 14-25

Then Joshua gathered all the tribes of Israel to Shechem, and summoned the elders, the heads, the judges, and the officers of Israel; and they presented themselves before God. And Joshua said to all the people, “Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: Long ago your ancestors—Terah and his sons Abraham and Nahor—lived beyond the Euphrates and served other gods. Then I took your father Abraham from beyond the River and led him through all the land of Canaan and made his offspring many.
        “Now therefore revere the Lord, and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness; put away the gods that your ancestors served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. Now if you are unwilling to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, [if not the LORD, then whom? Don’t be mindless; don’t live by default] whether the gods your ancestors served in the region beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living; but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”
        Then the people answered, “Far be it from us that we should forsake the Lord to serve other gods; for it is the Lord our God who brought us and our ancestors up from the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, and who did those great signs in our sight. He protected us along all the way that we went, and among all the peoples through whom we passed; and the Lord drove out before us all the peoples, the Amorites who lived in the land. Therefore we also will serve the Lord, for he is our God.”
        But Joshua said to the people, “You cannot serve the Lord, for he is a holy God. He is a jealous God; he will not forgive your transgressions or your sins. If you forsake the Lord and serve foreign gods, then he will turn and do you harm, and consume you, after having done you good.” And the people said to Joshua, “No, we will serve the Lord!”
        Then Joshua said to the people, “You are witnesses against yourselves that you have chosen the Lord, to serve him.” And they said, “We are witnesses.” He said, “Then put away the foreign gods that are among you, and incline your hearts to the Lord, the God of Israel.” The people said to Joshua, “The Lord our God we will serve, and him we will obey.” So Joshua made a covenant with the people that day, and made statutes and ordinances for them at Shechem.

Reflections: The people of Israel have come to an intersection; Joshua makes clear that they must make a choice. It’s no good to drift into the future by default, our call is to move forwards along the path God calls us, to make a clear-eyed choice. The risk is that choices—even good ones—bring unanticipated difficulties; they always carry the possibility of pushing us beyond the limits of our current capabilities.

         Riding a wave of enthusiasm, the people choose to follow the Lord. It is, of couse, the right choice, but Joshua knows that hard times will come, that the peoples’ focus, interest, and determination will fade. Like a parent admonishing a teenager, Joshua warns them of their immaturity in the face of difficulties ahead.
        Naturally, Joshua wants them to follow the lord, just as we want our kids to make right choices. But we also don’t want to mislead them into thinking that life is easy. Joshua warns the people to steel them for the inner journey that lies ahead.
        Walking with fire—the living God—inevitably involves getting at least a little singed. We set out on our journey all wide-eyed. We reach the destination with gratitude (and often wonder). But sometimes in the midst it all, we struggle through doubt, anxiety, disappointment, grief: the many-faceted trauma of being born all over again.
        If we had known what we would face, we probably would have stayed under the covers and let life pass us by. What we would have missed!

Psalm 78:1-7

Hear my teaching, O my people; * incline your ears to the words of my mouth.
I will open my mouth in a parable; * I will declare the mysteries of ancient times.
That which we have heard and known, and what our forefathers have told us, * we will not hide from their children.
We will recount to generations to come the praiseworthy deeds and the power of the LORD, * and the wonderful works he has done.
He gave his decrees to Jacob and established a law for Israel, *which he commanded them to teach their children;
That the generations to come might know, and the children yet unborn; * that they in their turn might tell it to their children;
So that they might put their trust in God, * and not forget the deeds of God, but keep his commandments.

Epistle: 1 Thessalonians 4: 13-18

 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have died. For this we declare to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will by no means precede those who have died. For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage one another with these words.

Reflections: I Thessalonians is St. Paul’s earliest surviving letter, and it gives us insight into the first Christians’ expectations of Christ’s immediate return. And what vivid images it gives. Paul’s small church had grown anxious because some of the older members were beginning to die, and Jesus hadn’t yet returned. Would those people be left out when he did come?

          Graphically as Paul pictures the End Times, it is a mysterious business, truly beyond our ability to characterize. As Jesus says in Luke 17, “They will say to you, ‘Look there!’ or ‘Look here!’ [but] do not go, do not set off in pursuit. For as the lightning flashes and lights up the sky from one side to the other, so will the Son of Man be in his day.” And as we read in I John just last week, “we do not know yet what we will be.” Or as Paul has put it elsewhere, “our life is hid with Christ in God.”
        However imagery of the Apocalypse might strike us today, one thing we can be sure: none who belong to Christ are lost. Paul says in Romans, his most mature work, “Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.”

Gospel: Matthew 25:1-13

Then the kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten bridesmaids [virgins] took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom [and the bride]. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them; but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept. But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those bridesmaids [virgins] got up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’ And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut. Later the other bridesmaids [virgins] came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ But he replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’ Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour [that the Son of Man is coming].

Reflections: I don’t know about you, but this reading troubles me. I cut my teeth on the image of a compassionate God, of a Christ who eats and travels with sinners, of the one who seeks the lost sheep, welcomes the prodigal son, proclaims that whatever kindness we have done to the “least” we have done to him. Yet in this parable, it’s the people who don’t share that win, and they don’t seem distressed that their companions get locked out. But the real clincher is that the bridegroom rejections them—and we know that the bridegroom represents Christ. What gives?

          The first thing I need to do is put this passage in context. We are at the close of the liturgical year, heading right into its culmination, the feast of Christ the King. The readings leading us up to that point are apocalyptic texts; they are about the End Times.
          So much as we may need a word of kindness, in this season, what we’re in for is rigor. There is, to be honest, something uncanny about reality. Life isn’t inherently gentle; sometimes it’s downright brutal. Neither can the nature of God be summed up in a glowing star, a good shepherd, a still, small voice. At one and the same time God brings Job to such an awareness of his finitude that he is brought to a trembling silence.
          Apocalyptic texts pepper the bible, and the church deliberately included them in the canon. Taken alone, such selections can warp our notion of God as judgmental and unforgiving, and breed churches that are the same. On the other hand, without rigor, we easily drift into platitudes and spineless sentimentality.
          Apocalyptic passages, then, are perhaps best understood in the context of the whole bible, in witness to a God Justice and Mercy are two aspects of a Love we cannot now fathom. As Dame Julian of Norwich, who lived in the terrible time of the Black Death, wrote in her account of her Revelations of Divine Love, “All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well.”

All Saints' Sunday, November 2, 2014

Collect of the Day: Almighty God, you have knit together your elect in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son Christ our Lord; Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints in all virtuous and godly living, that we may come to those ineffable joys that you have prepared for those who truly love you; through Jesus Christ our Lord who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.

Reflections: The communion of saints, that “cloud of witnesses,” reminds us that those who have gone before us are not absent, but united with us in Christ. Each Eucharist we pray the Sanctus “with all the company of heaven.” But this one day we make conscious, deliberate recognition of the unity of past, present and future in the living, mystical body of Christ. What a powerful reminder for those of us who still feeling the loss of people we love—no matter how long it has been since their passing.

First Reading: Revelation 7:9-17

After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands. They cried out in a loud voice, saying,
“Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!”
And all the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, singing,
      Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom
      and thanksgiving and honor and power and might
      be to our God forever and ever! Amen.
Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” I said to him, “Sir, you are the one that knows.” Then he said to me, “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
For this reason they are before the throne of God,
      and worship him day and night within his temple,
      and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them.
      They will hunger no more, and thirst no more;
      the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat;
      for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd,
      and he will guide them to springs of the water of life,
      and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Reflections: Revelations—that puzzling book that has historically been interpreted in widely diverse (and sometimes even bizarre) ways—holds some of the most beautiful, lyrical material in the New Testament. Sometimes prose simply cannot bear the profundity of the message, and the text breaks into poetry. Life is full mysterious, but however chaotic or frightening we experience it to be, is not absurd. We do not suffer alone; the whole communion of saints is with us; God is with us.

Psalm 34:1-10, 22

I will bless the LORD at all times; * his praise shall ever be in my mouth.
I will glory in the LORD; * let the humble hear and rejoice.
Proclaim with me the greatness of the LORD; * let us exalt his Name together.
I sought the LORD, and he answered me * and delivered me out of all my terror.
Look upon him and be radiant, * and let not your faces be ashamed.
I called in my affliction and the LORD heard me * and saved me from all my troubles.
The angel of the LORD encompasses those who fear him, * and he will deliver them.
Taste and see that the LORD is good; * happy are they who trust in him!
Fear the LORD, you that are his saints, * for those who fear him lack nothing.
The young lions lack and suffer hunger, *but those who seek the LORD lack nothing that is good.
The LORD ransoms the life of his servants, * and none will be punished who trust in him.

Epistle: I John 3:1-3

See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. And all who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure.

Reflections: These letters of John, written in simple language, carry a profound message. The phrase “children of God” is bandied about freely in Christian circles. But John tells us that it’s not simply a nice idea; we are not merely “like” God’s children. We are God’s children. Even now. How can we possibly get our heads around that? 

      But he says more. To be God’s children means more than we can understand. The “now” has implications we cannot yet fathom because we are not fully formed. There is much more to our lives than we can see or understand now. Like acorns, we are designed to grow into much more than we can presently imagine.

Gospel: Matthew 5:1-12

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you [falsely] on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

 Reflections: Possibly the most famous text in the New Testament, the beatitudes turn reality-as-we-know-it on its head. Truth is, it is most of the experiences Jesus pronounces “blessed” are extremely distressing.

      But we know people who have embodied these traits, to a greater or lesser degree. Some of them occasionally have broken with their routines or personal interests to lend a hand, offer a kind word, share a sandwich, make a visit or a phone call. The church has far more saints than we can ever name. Many of them are fellow parishioners; our grandmothers, cousins, children; and strangers—even people outside the Christian fold. Such people show us who we are called to be.

21st Sunday After Pentecost, November 2, 2014

NOTE: These are the readings normally assigned for the 22nd Sunday After Pentecost; they are not the readings for All Saint's, which we celebrate on the 2nd of November this year.

Joshua 3:7-17

The Lord said to Joshua, “This day I will begin to exalt you in the sight of all Israel, so that they may know that I will be with you as I was with Moses. You are the one who shall command the priests who bear the ark of the covenant, ‘When you come to the edge of the waters of the Jordan, you shall stand still in the Jordan.’” 

      Joshua then said to the Israelites, “Draw near and hear the words of the Lord your God.”  Joshua said, “By this you shall know that among you is the living God who without fail will drive out from before you the Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites, and Jebusites:  the ark of the covenant of the Lord of all the earth is going to pass before you into the Jordan.  So now select twelve men from the tribes of Israel, one from each tribe.  When the soles of the feet of the priests who bear the ark of the Lord, the Lord of all the earth, rest in the waters of the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan flowing from above shall be cut off; they shall stand in a single heap.”

      When the people set out from their tents to cross over the Jordan, the priests bearing the ark of the covenant were in front of the people.  Now the Jordan overflows all its banks throughout the time of harvest. So when those who bore the ark had come to the Jordan, and the feet of the priests bearing the ark were dipped in the edge of the water,  the waters flowing from above stood still, rising up in a single heap far off at Adam, the city that is beside Zarethan, while those flowing toward the sea of the Arabah, the Dead Sea [Salt Sea], were wholly cut off. Then the people crossed over opposite Jericho.  While all Israel were crossing over on dry ground, the priests who bore the ark of the covenant of the Lord stood on dry ground in the middle of the Jordan, until the entire nation finished crossing over the Jordan.

Reflections: Clearly, the crossing took place at harvest time; the river was swollen.

I remember the first time I saw the Cauvery River, which ran by the Christian community where I lived some months in India (long, long ago). It was carrying the rains from upstream! Not inviting! The waters ran dirty and deep, carrying detritus from upstream; within the banks, the eddies were swift and treacherous. Elsewhere, the waters threatened villages along the river’s edge.

          The Jordan too stood as a dangerous barrier to the promised land. It was in flood—spreading out of its banks, which means deep. Yet God gives a safe crossing. In a miraculous event that echoes to that at the Red Sea, the waters are stopped, and the people cross in safety.

          God’s presence is carried into the midst of the threat. Is it because the priests carry the arc into the waters? Is it because the people themselves are selected to play some role (that isn’t clarified for us in the text)? Is it because in the midst of the swirling waters they must stop and be still? Or is it perhaps because of all of these things that we all make a safe crossing, that we all move from our wandering into the destiny to which God invites us?

Psalm 107:1-7, 33-37

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, * and his mercy endures for ever.

Let all those whom the LORD has redeemed proclaim *

     that he redeemed them from the hand of the foe.

He gathered them out of the lands; *

    from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south.

Some wandered in desert wastes; * they found no way to a city where they might dwell.

The LORD changed rivers into deserts, * and water-springs into thirsty ground,

A fruitful land into salt flats, * because of the wickedness of those who dwell there.

He changed deserts into pools of water * and dry land into water-springs.

He settled the hungry there, * and they founded a city to dwell in.

They sowed fields, and planted vineyards, * and brought in a fruitful harvest.

Reflections: The psalm seems to attribute changing fortunes to the virtue of the peoples. Indeed, when we look at the whole of the psalm, we see that most of it is devoted to punishment for infidelity to God. Today, some Christians believe that the good are rewarded, and that those who are suffering do so because they are guilty or unworthy. But that is not an Episcopal position; indeed that notion is not a majority Christian position at all. The fact is, there are welcome events and terrible events, short range and long, and it is very difficult to determine what is truly good or bad. We tend to evaluate things by how they make us feel, or how fair or unfair they seem, or how easy or difficult they make our lives.

          But the fact remains that, regardless of our experiences of life, God is a constant, redeeming presence—rejoicing with us, weeping with us, and continually wooing us with divine love.

Epistle: 1 Thessalonians 2:9-13

You remember our labor and toil, brothers and sisters; we worked night and day, so that we might not burden any of you while we proclaimed to you the gospel of God. You are witnesses, and God also, how pure, upright, and blameless our conduct was toward you believers.  As you know, we dealt with each one of you like a father with his children, urging and encouraging you and pleading that you lead a life worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.

We also constantly give thanks to God for this, that when you received the word of God that you heard from us, you accepted it not as a human word but as what it really is, God’s word, which is also at work in you believers.

Reflections: St. Paul continues to appeal to the Thessalonians to stand firm in what they had received from God through his preaching. He reinforces the message by reminding them that even while they were preaching and teaching, he, Sylvanus, and Timothy had supported themselves financially by working (rather than taking advantage of the good will of the community). Moreover, the Thessalonians had not been convinced by clever argument (contrast that to the critics currently disrupting the community of Thessalonica), but because of God’s inspiration. That, for St. Paul, is a critical demonstration that his message is authentic.

Gospel: Matthew 23:1-12

Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples, “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach. They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them. They do all their deeds to be seen by others; for they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long. They love to have the place of honor at banquets and the best seats in the synagogues, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have people call them rabbi. But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students [brothers]. And call no one your father on earth, for you have one Father—the one in heaven.  Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Messiah [the Christ]. The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.

Reflections: The second part of this reading is sometimes cited as a criticism of the practice in sacramental churches of calling a priest “father” or “mother.” I’m sure you’ve heard the argument. It seems like a slam-dunk; as some people say, “the Bible says it, and I believe it.”

Indeed, Jesus makes the point here that we are all equally brothers and sisters, students of the one teacher, disciples of the one Christ, children of the one God. Even our clergy (ideally, especially our clergy) know themselves as primarily as children, students, disciples.

So how is it we can justify calling our priests “mother” or “father”? I think the answer lies precisely in the fact that we are a sacramental church. We encounter the Divine Presence concretely through the sacraments of the church—Baptism and Eucharist, as well as other key points of our lives. But the whole point of sacrament is that God is not just “out there somewhere” (or not only out there somewhere J), but radically present to us. Take this wonderful poem by 15^th century Anglican priest and poet George Herbert, for example:

THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.

It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;

It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil

Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;

And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;

And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil

Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;

There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;

And though the last lights off the black West went

Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—

Because the Holy Ghost over the bent

World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

          Christ’s Incarnation tells us that God is born into the world. Christ is present in the Eucharist; Christ is borne into the world through us; Christ is present in the concrete circumstances of our lives.

          That we call the priest “father” or “mother” is a recognition—not that a  particular person in leadership is perfect, or more spiritual, or more beloved by God—but of the mystical reality that God is Emmanuel, truly present to, with, and in us. The priest stands at the altar as ourselves—human—and as Christ, making present to us the eternal sacrifice once offered in time and space. As the disciples who gather around that table, we receive him from his own hands.

          The titles, “father” and “mother” are not about what sets them apart from ourselves. They are signs for us of the central, and ultimately incomprehensible truth of our lives, to which they have dedicated theirs.