During Monday’s morning assembly, the Trinity student body and staff saw for the second week in a row a dramatization of the Resurrection Day by one of the fifth grade classes. The week before, the sound system was not working and it was impossible to hear what the students were saying, so the teacher elected to show it again. Even with the microphones, the dialogue was indecipherable and the skit degraded to students running to the “tomb”, looking around puzzled, and then running back without any answer as to what was really going on. Reflecting on the awkward chaos, which contagiously spread through the seated children who also wanted to be running around, I realized that it was a much more likely interpretation of the events that occurred that first Easter morning than the controlled, organized, celebrations we mark the occasion with today. And yet out of that early morning disarray a revolutionary new covenant was made for all.
The teacher ended by reminding everyone that Easter is not just a one day holiday but a celebration over the next forty days, culminating in Ascension Day. She encouraged everyone to wish each other a happy Easter throughout that time, to commemorate the sacrifice that was made for us. So, as my turbulent life seems to be progressively settling around my May 19th departure, I am hoping to resurrect the blog for this last month as I begin to reflect on a year completed and prepare for a year to come. I will begin by wishing all of you a Happy Easter, even if we are two weeks in.
It has certainly been a busy time since I last wrote. The arrival of the mission team from Colorado that I first came to Honduras with coincided with my second cousin John’s stop over on his way home from kayak guiding in Costa Rica as well as my birthday in early March. John joined the missionaries and me that Saturday painting buildings and roofs at the Emilia D’Cuire School for Special Needs Children. John and I were able to combine our Eagle Scout ingenuity to successfully construct a cargo net for the children out of a 100 foot piece of marina rope, which had us both giddy with excitement when we realized it would actually work. We were rewarded with an evening of guacamole, steak fajitas, and Honduran cigars courtesy of the principle and her husband before John took off the next day to catch his flight out of San Pedro Sula.
My birthday presents from the team were two boxes of granola bars and a toaster oven. The granola bars were a reference to my lunch of choice (and necessity) last year as a ski boot repairman. Vail Resorts gives Nature Valley bars away at the ticket counter and I used to grab a handful on my way off the slopes before going into work to keep my food budget down. Needless to say, six months of eating 4-6 everyday became a little tiring. Last year on the mission trip, one of the team members found ways to hide granola bars in my bed, clothes, and even dinner just to make sure I did not lose my taste for them and so the birthday present continued that tradition. The toaster oven idea was leaked by my mother to the team. I had been complaining that I could not cook any of her recipes because they all required an oven, which my two-room apartment is not furnished with. I had been in the market for a toaster oven, but the team beat me to the punch, hauling it all the way down in a duffle bag. I would not call myself a master of the toaster oven just yet, but I have successfully baked a few dinners in it. The toast of course, could not be better. It was a great birthday. I would like to give a special thanks to Mrs. Ide, who has always written me wonderful birthday cards on behalf of the congregation and once again hit it out of the park. She does a wonderful ministry for St. James, and it is always something I look forward to.
The first annual science fair that the secondary students put on that week was a rousing success by all measures, though it had more than its fair shared of bumps along the way. My goal of avoiding the last minute panic and rush to finish projects a day the due date by setting weekly deadlines for the 6 week process were dashed and smashed by week 3 when the every deadline calendar I had handed out mysteriously and simultaneously vanished from the Earth. This meant a lot of handholding throughout the project and at times, I was completing more of the 18 projects than my students. With many of the projects stalling, I finally decided to create a cut off date for experimentation and as a consequence, the entire 7th grade and a few other less motivated groups who refused to even begin their investigations were given alternative assignments. They were disappointed, but I think they learned from the experience and will do better next time. Most importantly, it saved my head from explosion.
In the end, the move saved the assignment and the remaining kids jumped on board and started to do some solid, independent work. There were projects on rockets, catapults, trace fossils, paper airplanes, acid rain, and yeast fermentation to name a few. It was fun to see experiments and data collecting going on all over the school during lunch periods and after school. All at once, there was a collective realization among the students that this project was actually going to happen and they could do it. The students made posters, showing the steps they followed through the scientific method to test their hypotheses, and then gave oral presentations and peer evaluations to their classes before the big day.
Partly out of disorganization on my part and partly out of fear that the event might not even come to fruition if I set a firm date, I did not get invitations out early enough to parents so only a few came to see the Friday afternoon extravaganza. However, the Colorado team cleared their afternoon schedules and was a wonderful audience, walking around the auditorium, asking the students about their posters and projects, and taking pictures for me. I was blown away at how well the students did, talking with people they had only just met in English, answering tough questions and explaining their research with passion and clarity. I also invited the elementary students to come and visit, and they added to the electrifying, inquisitive atmosphere. I am hoping that it will get them excited about studying science at the secondary level, especially the incoming 7th grade class that has to make the decision of whether or not to continue with their education. It was a fantastic culmination of a long and difficult project and I was gratified to see the students making the most of the experience and showing how capable they are.
After the science fair, the rest of the third term flew by as everyone transitioned back to normal class mode, and I rushed to finish up chapters and get in tests before finals week arrived. Our finals ended and were followed by a week long vacation for Holy Week or Semana Santa. I decided to get out of town for a bit and took off for Utila, which is the smallest of the Bay Islands off the coast of Honduras that also includes the more touristy Roatan Island that is a frequent stop for cruise ships.
My buddy drove me on the back of his dirt bike to the port outside the city Monday morning. I jumped on the hour long ferry, arriving on the island around noon with a backpack and my dive card. I learned to scuba dive for a geology trip at Colby when I went to Bermuda for a week in January 2007, but I had not been since. As soon as I got off the ferry, with no reservations or plans, I was greeted by a local who brought me fifty yards through what I guess are two peoples back yards to a two story boarding house with chipping white paint. It had a long, covered porch with a couple hammocks hanging from the rafters and sat almost in the bay. Tethered to the uneven pier with planks missing was an old 1940s decommissioned anti-mine boat with faded sign in graffiti styling that said “Paradise Diving”. I knew I was in the right place. Within 30 minutes, I was 30 feet underwater, doing my warm up dive then exploring the reef. I stayed for four days and increased my certification to Advanced Open Water Diver. I made nine dives in total, including a wreck dive to a sunken freighter a hundred feet down and a night dive that was more like being in a disco with the thousands of bioluminescent plankton that lit up the reef as we swam around. During the evenings, I spent time exploring the little town (it only has one road) and hanging out with a fellow from Boston who was working to get his dive master certification. It was an awesome (and cheap) vacation, and it was tough to leave on Thursday afternoon.
Easter services at Holy Trinity on Sunday were momentous as a dozen parishioners were confirmed or received into the Episcopal Church by the bishop, including several of my students and one of the staff members. It was the first confirmation I had attended in years and it reminded me of my own at Saint Paul’s back in 6th grade. After the Eucharist I had the opportunity to eat lunch with the bishop at Veronica Flower’s house. Bishop Lloyd Allen is a powerful presence and a fascinating man, the first Honduran born bishop of the Honduran Diocese. This was the fourth time I had met with him. We talked about his biggest project right now: making the diocese completely self sustaining. In 2003, only 2% of the diocesan budget was covered by the Honduran parishes, almost all of the funding coming from the United States. In the interest of giving the church autonomy in choosing its rectors and setting its programming, protecting it from what will likely be large budgetary cuts in the United States, and most importantly reenergizing the church’s mission, he has undertaken the impressive and often unpopular task of redefining how the church runs itself and the roles of both ordained and lay people in the congregations. He has made significant headway, improving the Honduran budget contribution to over 53%, but concedes it will likely be a decade before it reaches total financial independence.
The next related obstacle is teaching people how to give to the church and take ownership of the church, both new necessities in the difficult financial climate. Besides increasing plate donations, one way Bishop Allen is addressing this is by improving the lay ministry training in Honduras. From both a financial and ministerial perspective, he sees it as the most efficient way to strengthen the existing membership and expand the churches reach, especially in rural areas that might not have enough congregants to support a full time rector. Father Joe Rhodes, a South Carolinian who has served as the spiritual advisor to the Colorado teams as well as other mission groups visiting Honduras for years, has committed to moving down to Honduras and heading up that educational initiative with his wife Tina beginning once his daughter graduates from high school next spring. It is an exciting step for the Episcopal Church here in Honduras that will hopefully allow the church to remain self sustaining and grow to fill the needs of more Hondurans. The church is lucky to have Bishop Allen at the helm.
Now I am focused on the fourth term and finding ways to squeeze in a couple more chapters while still keeping the students engaged. We have some field trips lined up for the students in the coming weeks to visit the jungle and the local universities so I am sure that will be a blast. It is hard to believe that I only have a month left in this school year. It has certainly flown by faster than I ever could have imagined. I am pleased with how far my students have gone and it will be sad to say good bye to Mike and Betty, who are finishing their tour of service as long term missionaries in Honduras. However, I am determined to celebrate and make the most out of every moment that I have left and build momentum for August when I get to start all over again. On May 19th when I fly out of San Pedro Sula, I won’t be traveling quite as high as Jesus did ascending into heaven. I can only be inspired by how much he accomplished in those 40 days and try to do the same, using my last month as a springboard into next year.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
A sermon preached April 18, 2010 (Easter 3 C) by the Rev. Frances A. Hills,Rector
Today’s readings include some long, complicated and wonderful stories about our Christian faith. They are stories about how, when and where Jesus showed up after the Tomb was Empty. Though the stories are all very different, they end up on a joyful note of praise that affirms who Jesus is.
First, the marvelous story from the Acts of the Apostles of Saul’s encounter with Christ on the road to Damascus. Now Saul is a Roman Zealot who persecutes Christians, (He’s the one who becomes the apostle Paul.) But all of a sudden he’s stopped in his tracks and struck blind by this voice of Jesus. By the end of the story he is converted, full of praise, and proclaiming Jesus as “The Son of God.”
Then in the reading from Revelation, which is about John of Patmos’ vision, the joyful note of praise we heard in Saul’s conversion story becomes a full-blown song of praise. It comes, not from human beings but from myriads of angels who call Jesus, “the Lamb who was slain.” The angels are joined in the praise and affirmation of Jesus by “every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them.” They sing out, “To the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!”
Finally, the reading from John’s Gospel is that wonderful story of Jesus’ third (fourth if you count Jesus' appearing to Mary Magdalene at the tomb) appearance to the disciples after his crucifixion. I can’t imagine what all they’d been thinking and feeling since Good Friday, and since Jesus had appeared to them the other times…Awed, bewildered, numb, lost, scared, rudderless (?). Eventually Simon Peter announces, “I am going fishing.” Maybe he thinks he’s going back to life as he’d known it—before Jesus. Six others join Peter, (perhaps all wanting to return to their pre-Jesus life?) but they have no luck…no fish. Then there’s this mysterious man on the beach. They admit to him they have no fish. Then the man suggests they cast nets on the right side of the boat. For some reason they do what he says. The nets fill, well past their capacity, but they don’t break! Then John, the beloved disciple, finally realizes…this man on the shore is the Lord! Then the story tells us they all knew it was Jesus as they shared a breakfast with him of campfire-cooked fish and bread. (Note the meal consisted of the two fish Jesus had already started to cook and some of the fish Jesus had empowered them to catch.)
No doubt it was a joyful time as they celebrated Jesus’ presence among them. I wonder if they thought they were going back to life as it was with Jesus, before Good Friday (?). But then, Jesus interrupts the happy moment, ups the stakes. He asks Peter three times if he loves him. Peter is emphatic, if frustrated by being asked so many times, “Yes, yes, yes…I love you!” Then Jesus tells him: In response to that love, he must feed and care for Jesus’ sheep.
God doesn’t just leave us in our joyful places where we know Jesus is in our midst. Our songs of joy and praise, our agape meals, even the Holy Eucharist are only a start. God calls us out, like Peter, from these blissful places, from our ordinary lives, to tend and feed those in need. Now I think this literally means those who don’t have enough food to eat. And at St. James we are faithful to this call through our ministry with the People’s Pantry, Breaking Bread Kitchen, Heifer Project and other programs. But I think Jesus’ call to tend, feed, and care goes well beyond literally feeding with food…I know there is loss and grief in our world that’s caused by broken systems, and natural disasters. And there’s also personal loss and grief in our very midst. God calls us to tend and care for those who grieve. To give them ears to listen, shoulders to cry on, and arms to embrace. But we’re also called to give the mind, heart, voice, and funds to work at fixing our world’s broken systems and to help with disaster relief. In addition, God calls us to tend and care for those who are sick, dying, or oppressed…Those around the world and those in our own families and cities. We do this through organizations like Heifer, ERD, Construct, South Berkshire Community Coalition, and through a certain missioner we know in Honduras.
Sometimes this work seems overwhelming, grim, even hopeless. It’s certainly not something overtly filled with the joy and praise, we heard throughout today’s scriptures . . . AND YET. . . That’s the very thing about Jesus’ appearances: He shows up at the darkest times/ the darnedest times. As the Psalm says...wailing can be turned to dancing. When Saul seemed to redouble his energy for going out and finding Christians to persecute…Jesus appeared to him, and showed him a better Way. And when the Disciples resigned themselves to go back to their “old way of life,” it didn’t work! They couldn’t catch any fish. They couldn’t feed themselves, themselves anymore. (They’d tasted a better food.) Yet in the midst of that darkness, Jesus appears and not only feeds them, but asks them to feed others.
In the midst of times that seem the darkest, we may be tempted to think God is not there. God must have abandoned us. However, what Jesus does is contrary to that…Jesus shows up at the darkest times. By extension I think he calls us to show up at the darkest times, when people are hungry, when people are hurting, when people are grieving, when people are oppressed. ANYTIME God’s sheep need feeding or tending, we’re called to be there, trusting the fish God supplies and bringing some of our own fish that God has empowered us to catch.
There are situations in which others think God is absent. They ask, “How could God have let this happen?” Or “What kind of God would do this?" Or they may decide, “There is no God.” In the face of such questions and doubt, our love and concern for others can stand as a gentle presence that says “not so” to these questions & doubts. Our love and concern can do this…WE KNOW THAT! But sometimes it just can’t do that, and we have to let people go. However, even at the times when our love and concern do not seem effective, we can trust God’s love and concern are ultimately and perfectly effective.
So no matter what happens, we’re called to be faithful—To be that gentle presence that consistently tends, cares, and feeds. We can do this because we know who Jesus is. We know he is with us in the darkness. And we know he is risen indeed! Amen.
First, the marvelous story from the Acts of the Apostles of Saul’s encounter with Christ on the road to Damascus. Now Saul is a Roman Zealot who persecutes Christians, (He’s the one who becomes the apostle Paul.) But all of a sudden he’s stopped in his tracks and struck blind by this voice of Jesus. By the end of the story he is converted, full of praise, and proclaiming Jesus as “The Son of God.”
Then in the reading from Revelation, which is about John of Patmos’ vision, the joyful note of praise we heard in Saul’s conversion story becomes a full-blown song of praise. It comes, not from human beings but from myriads of angels who call Jesus, “the Lamb who was slain.” The angels are joined in the praise and affirmation of Jesus by “every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them.” They sing out, “To the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!”
Finally, the reading from John’s Gospel is that wonderful story of Jesus’ third (fourth if you count Jesus' appearing to Mary Magdalene at the tomb) appearance to the disciples after his crucifixion. I can’t imagine what all they’d been thinking and feeling since Good Friday, and since Jesus had appeared to them the other times…Awed, bewildered, numb, lost, scared, rudderless (?). Eventually Simon Peter announces, “I am going fishing.” Maybe he thinks he’s going back to life as he’d known it—before Jesus. Six others join Peter, (perhaps all wanting to return to their pre-Jesus life?) but they have no luck…no fish. Then there’s this mysterious man on the beach. They admit to him they have no fish. Then the man suggests they cast nets on the right side of the boat. For some reason they do what he says. The nets fill, well past their capacity, but they don’t break! Then John, the beloved disciple, finally realizes…this man on the shore is the Lord! Then the story tells us they all knew it was Jesus as they shared a breakfast with him of campfire-cooked fish and bread. (Note the meal consisted of the two fish Jesus had already started to cook and some of the fish Jesus had empowered them to catch.)
No doubt it was a joyful time as they celebrated Jesus’ presence among them. I wonder if they thought they were going back to life as it was with Jesus, before Good Friday (?). But then, Jesus interrupts the happy moment, ups the stakes. He asks Peter three times if he loves him. Peter is emphatic, if frustrated by being asked so many times, “Yes, yes, yes…I love you!” Then Jesus tells him: In response to that love, he must feed and care for Jesus’ sheep.
God doesn’t just leave us in our joyful places where we know Jesus is in our midst. Our songs of joy and praise, our agape meals, even the Holy Eucharist are only a start. God calls us out, like Peter, from these blissful places, from our ordinary lives, to tend and feed those in need. Now I think this literally means those who don’t have enough food to eat. And at St. James we are faithful to this call through our ministry with the People’s Pantry, Breaking Bread Kitchen, Heifer Project and other programs. But I think Jesus’ call to tend, feed, and care goes well beyond literally feeding with food…I know there is loss and grief in our world that’s caused by broken systems, and natural disasters. And there’s also personal loss and grief in our very midst. God calls us to tend and care for those who grieve. To give them ears to listen, shoulders to cry on, and arms to embrace. But we’re also called to give the mind, heart, voice, and funds to work at fixing our world’s broken systems and to help with disaster relief. In addition, God calls us to tend and care for those who are sick, dying, or oppressed…Those around the world and those in our own families and cities. We do this through organizations like Heifer, ERD, Construct, South Berkshire Community Coalition, and through a certain missioner we know in Honduras.
Sometimes this work seems overwhelming, grim, even hopeless. It’s certainly not something overtly filled with the joy and praise, we heard throughout today’s scriptures . . . AND YET. . . That’s the very thing about Jesus’ appearances: He shows up at the darkest times/ the darnedest times. As the Psalm says...wailing can be turned to dancing. When Saul seemed to redouble his energy for going out and finding Christians to persecute…Jesus appeared to him, and showed him a better Way. And when the Disciples resigned themselves to go back to their “old way of life,” it didn’t work! They couldn’t catch any fish. They couldn’t feed themselves, themselves anymore. (They’d tasted a better food.) Yet in the midst of that darkness, Jesus appears and not only feeds them, but asks them to feed others.
In the midst of times that seem the darkest, we may be tempted to think God is not there. God must have abandoned us. However, what Jesus does is contrary to that…Jesus shows up at the darkest times. By extension I think he calls us to show up at the darkest times, when people are hungry, when people are hurting, when people are grieving, when people are oppressed. ANYTIME God’s sheep need feeding or tending, we’re called to be there, trusting the fish God supplies and bringing some of our own fish that God has empowered us to catch.
There are situations in which others think God is absent. They ask, “How could God have let this happen?” Or “What kind of God would do this?" Or they may decide, “There is no God.” In the face of such questions and doubt, our love and concern for others can stand as a gentle presence that says “not so” to these questions & doubts. Our love and concern can do this…WE KNOW THAT! But sometimes it just can’t do that, and we have to let people go. However, even at the times when our love and concern do not seem effective, we can trust God’s love and concern are ultimately and perfectly effective.
So no matter what happens, we’re called to be faithful—To be that gentle presence that consistently tends, cares, and feeds. We can do this because we know who Jesus is. We know he is with us in the darkness. And we know he is risen indeed! Amen.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
A Sermon Preached April 11, 2010 (Easter 2 C) by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector
Is your life different today? Is it radically different from eight days ago—Before Easter? Has the Good News of Jesus’ conquering sin and death changed you? Has the fact Jesus washes away your sins and breathes his Spirit in you at baptism made you a different person? Are you now a person who is more just and who helps bring in the Kingdom of God?
Where is your faith these days? How do you embody it? One thing that’s clear in the Gospel of John is that the disciples—Jesus’ first followers—were all over the map in their different types and levels of faith. Some faith is based on seeing signs and some faith needs no signs. There’s weak faith and strong faith. There’s shallow faith and deep faith. There’s faith that’s growing and maturing and faith that’s faltering.
In the Gospel of John, faith is not just a decision we make once for all. It’s a decision we make in every new situation. For example, we make a decision every time we come up against the powers of the status quo that favor the rich and oppress the poor. These are powers that are not of the Kingdom of God.
Look at Thomas. Now here’s a disciple who was courageous, spiritually wise, and devoted to Jesus. The tradition says he was the first Christian missionary to India. Perhaps he even wrote a book about Jesus called The Gospel of Thomas. But Thomas needed to see and touch Jesus’ wounds in order to believe. His faith journey was ready to go to a deeper level. But ever since then we’ve called him “doubting Thomas” and often see this somehow as a bad thing. But look at the other disciples in the Gospel of John. The beloved disciple believed something (but we don’t know what) with no evidence, except an empty tomb. Mary Magdalene believed because a man called her by name and she knew his voice. Ten disciples believed because they saw the risen Jesus. Thomas struggled some. He’d missed the other experiences and needed some physical proof. I don’t think Jesus faults him for this.
For some, faith comes gently and easily. For others of us, we struggle and wrestle with doubt. It was true then, and it’s true now…Faith comes in all shapes and sizes, and one is not necessarily better than the other.
Where is your faith today? How do you embody it? Does it matter in your life that Jesus breathes the Holy Spirit into his disciples. He did it that day in the house, when he came through the locked doors and appeared to the 11 disciples. He does it each time one of us is baptized…“You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.” He also does it over and over again in our everyday lives in an infinite number of ways. Jesus comes to us, appears to us, gives us Peace, bestows the Holy Spirit on our community, then sends us forth. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
We are now his hands and feet. His wounds. We are the voice of his forgiveness, his healing touch, and his word that speaks out when people are oppressed by the powerful. We are this now, and we come to know him more and more as we go about continuing his work in the world. We are now members of his body and that’s not like being a member of a book club or soccer team. It’s like being, in fact, one of Jesus’ limbs…an arm, a leg, a hand or foot. We are his only hands and feet now. We are Christ to this sinful and broken world! We are the ones to spread peace. To spread Good News. To bring in God’s Kingdom. So what’s it like to be surrounded by Jesus this morning? Just look around at your brothers and sisters here…It’s enough to change you!
Jesus knows we’re not all in the same place spiritually. For some faith is easy, and for some it’s hard. But no matter where we are in our faith journeys, he has died for us, saved us, given us forgiveness and ultimate Peace. And by breathing the Holy Spirit into us, he has SENT US FORTH changed…To spread that Peace and forgiveness…To spread God’s justice.
How do you personally/how do we at St. James spread God’s Peace, Forgiveness & Justice? What particular member of Christ’s body are you/we as a community? A contemporary spiritual director wrote,
“He still comes in everydayness. He still says, See my hands and my feet. Don’t avert your eyes from my wounds out of politeness or disgust. Look at them. Put your finger here. Don’t be afraid. Remember the incarnation. I came among you first in human flesh—flesh that can be hungry and fed, flesh that can be hurt, even killed. Flesh that can embody God’s love. He comes among us still, mediated through human flesh. See his hands, his side. Touch him, and see.”
(Margaret Gunther, Christian Century, April 12, 2004)
What happens when one of us/or when we as a community, like Thomas, gets to the point of recognizing the risen Christ, of calling him “My Lord and My God,” and of living our lives in a way that shows we really believe it? What happens is—We’re CHANGED. Our lives are radically different. We know we’re forgiven. We know that Jesus died and rose again for us. He conquered the powers of evil and oppression. We know we are his hands and feet. We’re here to spread God’s Kingdom. And empowered by God’s SPIRIT, we have LIFE and give LIFE in his name. Amen.
Where is your faith these days? How do you embody it? One thing that’s clear in the Gospel of John is that the disciples—Jesus’ first followers—were all over the map in their different types and levels of faith. Some faith is based on seeing signs and some faith needs no signs. There’s weak faith and strong faith. There’s shallow faith and deep faith. There’s faith that’s growing and maturing and faith that’s faltering.
In the Gospel of John, faith is not just a decision we make once for all. It’s a decision we make in every new situation. For example, we make a decision every time we come up against the powers of the status quo that favor the rich and oppress the poor. These are powers that are not of the Kingdom of God.
Look at Thomas. Now here’s a disciple who was courageous, spiritually wise, and devoted to Jesus. The tradition says he was the first Christian missionary to India. Perhaps he even wrote a book about Jesus called The Gospel of Thomas. But Thomas needed to see and touch Jesus’ wounds in order to believe. His faith journey was ready to go to a deeper level. But ever since then we’ve called him “doubting Thomas” and often see this somehow as a bad thing. But look at the other disciples in the Gospel of John. The beloved disciple believed something (but we don’t know what) with no evidence, except an empty tomb. Mary Magdalene believed because a man called her by name and she knew his voice. Ten disciples believed because they saw the risen Jesus. Thomas struggled some. He’d missed the other experiences and needed some physical proof. I don’t think Jesus faults him for this.
For some, faith comes gently and easily. For others of us, we struggle and wrestle with doubt. It was true then, and it’s true now…Faith comes in all shapes and sizes, and one is not necessarily better than the other.
Where is your faith today? How do you embody it? Does it matter in your life that Jesus breathes the Holy Spirit into his disciples. He did it that day in the house, when he came through the locked doors and appeared to the 11 disciples. He does it each time one of us is baptized…“You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.” He also does it over and over again in our everyday lives in an infinite number of ways. Jesus comes to us, appears to us, gives us Peace, bestows the Holy Spirit on our community, then sends us forth. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
We are now his hands and feet. His wounds. We are the voice of his forgiveness, his healing touch, and his word that speaks out when people are oppressed by the powerful. We are this now, and we come to know him more and more as we go about continuing his work in the world. We are now members of his body and that’s not like being a member of a book club or soccer team. It’s like being, in fact, one of Jesus’ limbs…an arm, a leg, a hand or foot. We are his only hands and feet now. We are Christ to this sinful and broken world! We are the ones to spread peace. To spread Good News. To bring in God’s Kingdom. So what’s it like to be surrounded by Jesus this morning? Just look around at your brothers and sisters here…It’s enough to change you!
Jesus knows we’re not all in the same place spiritually. For some faith is easy, and for some it’s hard. But no matter where we are in our faith journeys, he has died for us, saved us, given us forgiveness and ultimate Peace. And by breathing the Holy Spirit into us, he has SENT US FORTH changed…To spread that Peace and forgiveness…To spread God’s justice.
How do you personally/how do we at St. James spread God’s Peace, Forgiveness & Justice? What particular member of Christ’s body are you/we as a community? A contemporary spiritual director wrote,
“He still comes in everydayness. He still says, See my hands and my feet. Don’t avert your eyes from my wounds out of politeness or disgust. Look at them. Put your finger here. Don’t be afraid. Remember the incarnation. I came among you first in human flesh—flesh that can be hungry and fed, flesh that can be hurt, even killed. Flesh that can embody God’s love. He comes among us still, mediated through human flesh. See his hands, his side. Touch him, and see.”
(Margaret Gunther, Christian Century, April 12, 2004)
What happens when one of us/or when we as a community, like Thomas, gets to the point of recognizing the risen Christ, of calling him “My Lord and My God,” and of living our lives in a way that shows we really believe it? What happens is—We’re CHANGED. Our lives are radically different. We know we’re forgiven. We know that Jesus died and rose again for us. He conquered the powers of evil and oppression. We know we are his hands and feet. We’re here to spread God’s Kingdom. And empowered by God’s SPIRIT, we have LIFE and give LIFE in his name. Amen.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
A Sermon preached Easter Day C 2010 by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector
Over the centuries in art, music, literature and film, people have speculated about Mary Magdalene’s relationship with Jesus. The Bible makes it clear she was part of his inner circle. And, in spite of what the tradition has invented, there’s nothing in the Bible that says she’s a woman of ill-repute. The Bible does say she is a troubled person, and Jesus accepts her, values her company, and heals her of many demons. We can imagine how grateful she is to him. How much she loves him. They are close.
So just imagine how she’s feeling that morning. Confused. Exhausted. Heavy with grief. Bereft of this man she loved. She comes to anoint his body for burial, to touch him again (even in death), but he’s gone! Missing! And then, what was it like to hear him say her name. To see him. To so long to hold him. But to be told “No.” “Don’t touch”. Here’s poet Janet Morley’s take on this scene:
It was unfinished.
We stayed there, fixed, until the end,
women waiting for the body that we loved;
and then it was unfinished.
There was no time to cherish, cleanse, anoint;
no time to handle him with love,
no farewell.
Since then, my hands have waited,
aching to touch even his deadness,
smoothe oil into bruises that no longer hurt,
offer his silent flesh my finished act of love.
I came early, as the darkness lifted,
to find the grave ripped open and his body gone;
container of my grief smashed, looted,
leaving my hands still empty,
I turned on the man who came:
‘They have taken away my Lord—where is his corpse?
Where is the body that is mine to greet?
He is not gone
I am not ready yet, I am not finished—
I cannot let him go.
I am not whole.’
And then he spoke, no corpse,
and breathed,
and offered me my name.
My hands rushed to grasp him;
to hold and hug and grip his body close;
to give myself again, to cling to him,
and lose my self in love.
‘Don’t touch me now.’
I stopped, and waited, my rejected passion
hovering between us like some dying thing.
I Mary, stood and grieved, and then departed.
I have a gospel to proclaim.
(All Desires Known: Prayers Uniting Faith and Feminism, “They have taken away my lord,” p. 54.)
“I have a gospel to proclaim.” “I have a gospel to proclaim.” And so Mary, the first witness to the Risen Lord, is charged by him to go and tell the others. Mary Magdalene, this grieving, bewildered woman, who loved him so, realizes it’s not about clinging on to what was in the past. The joy of His earthly company. His teaching. His care. Now it’s about telling everyone…He Lives! God’s love is stronger than sin, violence, and death. This is Resurrection Power! Now it’s time for Mary to let the world know that the compassionate, healing love of God can and will overcome anything.
Mary had this Gospel to proclaim. And we have this Gospel to proclaim! It’s about the times in our lives when we have been at a place, not unlike Mary Magdalene’s, when all has seemed hopeless. Dark. Powerless. When we cannot do it ourselves anymore. When our trying gets us nowhere. When we cannot see a way forward. When we need our demons cast out. When we finally have to surrender—admit our powerlessness, our vulnerability—and collapse into the arms of the One who stretched his out in total powerlessness that we might come within the reach of his saving embrace.
Maybe this time of surrender in our lives has come as we’ve sat at the bedside of one we dearly love and had to let them die. Maybe it’s when we’ve had to let go of the dream of a child when it cannot be conceived or is not viable. Maybe it’s when the one we love is addicted to something, and we finally have to say that we cannot continue in that relationship, the one we’d vowed to stay in for life. Maybe it’s when the hopes and dreams we’ve had about our career have to be let go of in the face of reality. I know you can all add to this list.
These are the dark times. The helpless times. The times we need healing. And it is to save us from the hopelessness of these that Jesus, in the most powerless and vulnerable of all postures, stretches out his arms of love to us. And at that point, he doesn’t say, “Don’t touch me.” He says, “Come. Let me embrace you.” And so we discover New Life—the peace our loved one finds in death. A certain completeness about their life, and eventually peace for ourselves. We discover the great blessing and gift spending those last days with them was to us. We come to know deeply: Their life is changed, not ended. It’s Resurrection Power! Or we discover Jesus embraces us when we, who have no children, discover God has other ways of blessing us and giving us little ones to nurture and teach and love.
And when we have to leave a chaotic relationship, we discover God comforts our lives with deep peace and serenity and friends who become our family. We discover when we miss a rung on that steep career ladder and have to go down a few notches, God can be there as well (even in that!), restoring us, reordering our lives in ways that are more fulfilling. It’s Resurrection Power!
In all these, we, like Mary, have seen the Lord! These are our resurrection stories! And, having known those dark places, and admitted our powerlessness to the God who’s power is made perfect in weakness, then we, like Mary, are empowered not just to cling to him for comfort, but to spread the Word…The Good News of our stories! In these it’s become very clear to us personally that HE IS RISEN! We too have seen the Lord! It’s Resurrection Power in our very lives!
So we, like Mary Magdalene, on this glorious Easter morning, have a Gospel to proclaim!
We have a Gospel to proclaim!
We have a Gospel to proclaim…
So let’s do it…
Alleluia. Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia! Amen.
So just imagine how she’s feeling that morning. Confused. Exhausted. Heavy with grief. Bereft of this man she loved. She comes to anoint his body for burial, to touch him again (even in death), but he’s gone! Missing! And then, what was it like to hear him say her name. To see him. To so long to hold him. But to be told “No.” “Don’t touch”. Here’s poet Janet Morley’s take on this scene:
It was unfinished.
We stayed there, fixed, until the end,
women waiting for the body that we loved;
and then it was unfinished.
There was no time to cherish, cleanse, anoint;
no time to handle him with love,
no farewell.
Since then, my hands have waited,
aching to touch even his deadness,
smoothe oil into bruises that no longer hurt,
offer his silent flesh my finished act of love.
I came early, as the darkness lifted,
to find the grave ripped open and his body gone;
container of my grief smashed, looted,
leaving my hands still empty,
I turned on the man who came:
‘They have taken away my Lord—where is his corpse?
Where is the body that is mine to greet?
He is not gone
I am not ready yet, I am not finished—
I cannot let him go.
I am not whole.’
And then he spoke, no corpse,
and breathed,
and offered me my name.
My hands rushed to grasp him;
to hold and hug and grip his body close;
to give myself again, to cling to him,
and lose my self in love.
‘Don’t touch me now.’
I stopped, and waited, my rejected passion
hovering between us like some dying thing.
I Mary, stood and grieved, and then departed.
I have a gospel to proclaim.
(All Desires Known: Prayers Uniting Faith and Feminism, “They have taken away my lord,” p. 54.)
“I have a gospel to proclaim.” “I have a gospel to proclaim.” And so Mary, the first witness to the Risen Lord, is charged by him to go and tell the others. Mary Magdalene, this grieving, bewildered woman, who loved him so, realizes it’s not about clinging on to what was in the past. The joy of His earthly company. His teaching. His care. Now it’s about telling everyone…He Lives! God’s love is stronger than sin, violence, and death. This is Resurrection Power! Now it’s time for Mary to let the world know that the compassionate, healing love of God can and will overcome anything.
Mary had this Gospel to proclaim. And we have this Gospel to proclaim! It’s about the times in our lives when we have been at a place, not unlike Mary Magdalene’s, when all has seemed hopeless. Dark. Powerless. When we cannot do it ourselves anymore. When our trying gets us nowhere. When we cannot see a way forward. When we need our demons cast out. When we finally have to surrender—admit our powerlessness, our vulnerability—and collapse into the arms of the One who stretched his out in total powerlessness that we might come within the reach of his saving embrace.
Maybe this time of surrender in our lives has come as we’ve sat at the bedside of one we dearly love and had to let them die. Maybe it’s when we’ve had to let go of the dream of a child when it cannot be conceived or is not viable. Maybe it’s when the one we love is addicted to something, and we finally have to say that we cannot continue in that relationship, the one we’d vowed to stay in for life. Maybe it’s when the hopes and dreams we’ve had about our career have to be let go of in the face of reality. I know you can all add to this list.
These are the dark times. The helpless times. The times we need healing. And it is to save us from the hopelessness of these that Jesus, in the most powerless and vulnerable of all postures, stretches out his arms of love to us. And at that point, he doesn’t say, “Don’t touch me.” He says, “Come. Let me embrace you.” And so we discover New Life—the peace our loved one finds in death. A certain completeness about their life, and eventually peace for ourselves. We discover the great blessing and gift spending those last days with them was to us. We come to know deeply: Their life is changed, not ended. It’s Resurrection Power! Or we discover Jesus embraces us when we, who have no children, discover God has other ways of blessing us and giving us little ones to nurture and teach and love.
And when we have to leave a chaotic relationship, we discover God comforts our lives with deep peace and serenity and friends who become our family. We discover when we miss a rung on that steep career ladder and have to go down a few notches, God can be there as well (even in that!), restoring us, reordering our lives in ways that are more fulfilling. It’s Resurrection Power!
In all these, we, like Mary, have seen the Lord! These are our resurrection stories! And, having known those dark places, and admitted our powerlessness to the God who’s power is made perfect in weakness, then we, like Mary, are empowered not just to cling to him for comfort, but to spread the Word…The Good News of our stories! In these it’s become very clear to us personally that HE IS RISEN! We too have seen the Lord! It’s Resurrection Power in our very lives!
So we, like Mary Magdalene, on this glorious Easter morning, have a Gospel to proclaim!
We have a Gospel to proclaim!
We have a Gospel to proclaim…
So let’s do it…
Alleluia. Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia! Amen.
A Sermon Preached at the Easter Vigil 2010 at St. George’s Episcopal Church, Lee, MA by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector St. James’ Great Barrington, MA
The Exsultet (so beautifully chanted tonight by Ian) tells us our story:
This is the night when God brought our forbearers out of bondage in Egypt.
The night when all who believe in Jesus are freed from sin and restored to grace.
The night when Christ broke the bonds of death and rose victorious from the grave.
On this Night of Nights as we’re all gathered together here at St. George, I want us to hear a poem by Ann Weems. It’s called, “The Story and the Child.”
The child comes,
and we dye eggs
and make a cake
and decorate.
“Why are we doing this?”
he asks.
“Because,” I answer,
“Life is about to happen,
and on Sunday morning
we’ll catch stars.”
He looks at me,
quizzically at first,
and then grins.
It’s then I ask him
to tell me the story.
The only way he’ll learn
is to tell it himself.
The only way we’ll learn
is to tell it again . . .
and again . . . to the child.
Tonight we’re telling the story, as we tell it year after year on this night. It’s the story of Salvation History. It’s the love story between God and God’s people. Someone said that “God just loves stories, that’s why God made people!” This story is one we tell a bit of every week at church as we hear the lessons, sing the hymns, and reflect on their meaning. But at the Easter Vigil, we hear more of the story. And we start with the beginning. The Creation, when God makes all things. and makes them all GOOD. Then we move to that really essential and core story of the Easter Vigil…The Crossing of the Red Sea. It’s when God’s people leave the slavery of Egypt and move into the freedom and challenges of the Wilderness.Then comes The Valley of the Dry Bones. In his vision, the Prophet Ezekiel sees bones coming together—enfleshed, breathing! Those who have died live again!
And finally we hear the story of The Gathering of God’s People. After years of exile in Babylon, God’s people return to their beloved Jerusalem. The Prophet Zephaniah reminds them of their need for religious renewal…not pie-in-the-sky, otherworldly renewal. It’s the renewal of this world he’s concerned with so that it reflects God’s vision of peace, justice, and freedom from oppression. It’s a world where God may sing because God’s people are singing!
Hopefully in the midst of all these ancient stories, we realize they are our stories as well. They tell us why we were created. How we too can get bound up in slavery to a variety of things…addictions, and how God can free us of that. They tell us how God can guide us through the wilderness. How at times we may feel like a bag of useless bones. Dried up. Living but partly living. Then God can breathe New Life into us, so that gathered together, we can help renew the world and bring in God’s reign on earth. These are YOUR stories and MY stories—All bound up together with God’s on-going love story.
And in the midst of all our stories tonight is THE CANDLE. The Paschal Candle. It is a central symbol of the Easter Season. In the Exsultet Ian sang, “All you who stand by this marvelous and holy flame, pray with me to God the almighty, For the grace to sing the worthy praise of this great light.” In its own way, the Paschal Candle tells God’s Story /Our Story as well.
The name of this candle certainly gives us a clue about the stories it symbolizes, as “Paschal” means “Passover.” It reminds us of when the Angel of Death was sent to slay all first-born male children in Egypt. Then the Angel passed over the sons of the Hebrew slaves because they were God’s chosen people. And so to this day, our brothers and sisters who are Jewish celebrate the Feast of the Passover during the same time we Christians celebrate Easter, because, according to the Gospels, the first Holy Week occurred during the Passover.
The Paschal Candle also reminds us of when God helped the Hebrew people pass over the wilderness, leading them with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.
The Candle is a central reminder of Easter, when Jesus passed over from the death of Good Friday to the life of Easter. And so we’ll burn the candle for the 50 days of the Easter season.
We also burn this candle when we baptize someone into the body of Christ. At baptism, we pass over from our old life into our new life with Jesus. “We are buried with Christ in his death and raised with him in his glorious resurrection.” We share in his Resurrection Power!
Finally we burn the Paschal Candle at funerals. It reminds us of our Christian hope: The person has passed over from mortal death into the eternal life God promises through Jesus’ death and resurrection.
So as we “Sing the worthy praise of this great light,” I can’t begin to tell you how glad I am personally to see this white, bright, sturdy, straight Paschal Candle here at St. George’s this evening. A few weeks ago when I was in the St. James’ building with our Insurance Broker, I noticed our Paschal Candle had melted and bent over. It had come to rest, in fact, on the credence shelf right by the baptismal font. It was hard to look at that helpless Paschal Candle…all melted and bent over…because of all the things it symbolizes, all the things I’ve been speaking about tonight. The candle symbolically embodies the sacred stories, and it helps us tell the story over and over again.
Whenever someone is baptized, their stories are added to The Story, and so The Story is changed, because we’ve added a page and we tell it in a new way. That’s why it’s so important for the children in the congregation to gather around the font at a baptism and to stand in the light of the Paschal Candle. That way, they can see the story as it unfolds. And as the new lines are written, they can start telling the story themselves.
On this holy night, “When wickedness is put to flight and sins are washed away,” we renewed our Baptismal Vows. By doing that, our personal life stories, and our stories as community, began a new chapter in The Story of Salvation History. It’s the story that matters, and we do have our stories! We’ve told them tonight.
We’ve added to them tonight. We’re empowered by them tonight. It’s the story that matters, and a melted candle cannot take that away!
So as we dye our eggs and decorate our cakes, because (the Easter) “Life is about to happen,” let’s teach our children to tell the story as we tell the story to them…over and over again. So that as we leave here tonight and wake in the morning, we too will “catch stars” and share in Christ’s Resurrection Power! Amen.
This is the night when God brought our forbearers out of bondage in Egypt.
The night when all who believe in Jesus are freed from sin and restored to grace.
The night when Christ broke the bonds of death and rose victorious from the grave.
On this Night of Nights as we’re all gathered together here at St. George, I want us to hear a poem by Ann Weems. It’s called, “The Story and the Child.”
The child comes,
and we dye eggs
and make a cake
and decorate.
“Why are we doing this?”
he asks.
“Because,” I answer,
“Life is about to happen,
and on Sunday morning
we’ll catch stars.”
He looks at me,
quizzically at first,
and then grins.
It’s then I ask him
to tell me the story.
The only way he’ll learn
is to tell it himself.
The only way we’ll learn
is to tell it again . . .
and again . . . to the child.
Tonight we’re telling the story, as we tell it year after year on this night. It’s the story of Salvation History. It’s the love story between God and God’s people. Someone said that “God just loves stories, that’s why God made people!” This story is one we tell a bit of every week at church as we hear the lessons, sing the hymns, and reflect on their meaning. But at the Easter Vigil, we hear more of the story. And we start with the beginning. The Creation, when God makes all things. and makes them all GOOD. Then we move to that really essential and core story of the Easter Vigil…The Crossing of the Red Sea. It’s when God’s people leave the slavery of Egypt and move into the freedom and challenges of the Wilderness.Then comes The Valley of the Dry Bones. In his vision, the Prophet Ezekiel sees bones coming together—enfleshed, breathing! Those who have died live again!
And finally we hear the story of The Gathering of God’s People. After years of exile in Babylon, God’s people return to their beloved Jerusalem. The Prophet Zephaniah reminds them of their need for religious renewal…not pie-in-the-sky, otherworldly renewal. It’s the renewal of this world he’s concerned with so that it reflects God’s vision of peace, justice, and freedom from oppression. It’s a world where God may sing because God’s people are singing!
Hopefully in the midst of all these ancient stories, we realize they are our stories as well. They tell us why we were created. How we too can get bound up in slavery to a variety of things…addictions, and how God can free us of that. They tell us how God can guide us through the wilderness. How at times we may feel like a bag of useless bones. Dried up. Living but partly living. Then God can breathe New Life into us, so that gathered together, we can help renew the world and bring in God’s reign on earth. These are YOUR stories and MY stories—All bound up together with God’s on-going love story.
And in the midst of all our stories tonight is THE CANDLE. The Paschal Candle. It is a central symbol of the Easter Season. In the Exsultet Ian sang, “All you who stand by this marvelous and holy flame, pray with me to God the almighty, For the grace to sing the worthy praise of this great light.” In its own way, the Paschal Candle tells God’s Story /Our Story as well.
The name of this candle certainly gives us a clue about the stories it symbolizes, as “Paschal” means “Passover.” It reminds us of when the Angel of Death was sent to slay all first-born male children in Egypt. Then the Angel passed over the sons of the Hebrew slaves because they were God’s chosen people. And so to this day, our brothers and sisters who are Jewish celebrate the Feast of the Passover during the same time we Christians celebrate Easter, because, according to the Gospels, the first Holy Week occurred during the Passover.
The Paschal Candle also reminds us of when God helped the Hebrew people pass over the wilderness, leading them with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.
The Candle is a central reminder of Easter, when Jesus passed over from the death of Good Friday to the life of Easter. And so we’ll burn the candle for the 50 days of the Easter season.
We also burn this candle when we baptize someone into the body of Christ. At baptism, we pass over from our old life into our new life with Jesus. “We are buried with Christ in his death and raised with him in his glorious resurrection.” We share in his Resurrection Power!
Finally we burn the Paschal Candle at funerals. It reminds us of our Christian hope: The person has passed over from mortal death into the eternal life God promises through Jesus’ death and resurrection.
So as we “Sing the worthy praise of this great light,” I can’t begin to tell you how glad I am personally to see this white, bright, sturdy, straight Paschal Candle here at St. George’s this evening. A few weeks ago when I was in the St. James’ building with our Insurance Broker, I noticed our Paschal Candle had melted and bent over. It had come to rest, in fact, on the credence shelf right by the baptismal font. It was hard to look at that helpless Paschal Candle…all melted and bent over…because of all the things it symbolizes, all the things I’ve been speaking about tonight. The candle symbolically embodies the sacred stories, and it helps us tell the story over and over again.
Whenever someone is baptized, their stories are added to The Story, and so The Story is changed, because we’ve added a page and we tell it in a new way. That’s why it’s so important for the children in the congregation to gather around the font at a baptism and to stand in the light of the Paschal Candle. That way, they can see the story as it unfolds. And as the new lines are written, they can start telling the story themselves.
On this holy night, “When wickedness is put to flight and sins are washed away,” we renewed our Baptismal Vows. By doing that, our personal life stories, and our stories as community, began a new chapter in The Story of Salvation History. It’s the story that matters, and we do have our stories! We’ve told them tonight.
We’ve added to them tonight. We’re empowered by them tonight. It’s the story that matters, and a melted candle cannot take that away!
So as we dye our eggs and decorate our cakes, because (the Easter) “Life is about to happen,” let’s teach our children to tell the story as we tell the story to them…over and over again. So that as we leave here tonight and wake in the morning, we too will “catch stars” and share in Christ’s Resurrection Power! Amen.
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