Christmas Eve

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying. “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors.”

The angels’ song of joy echoes through time. It echoes with the hopes and goals of all humanity. To give glory to God and to enjoy peace on earth.

When I was a child I grew up going to church and helped at services as an acolyte or a reader. One evening I was scheduled and the Rector asked me to poke my head out and see if anyone had shown up yet. I did and reported that the church was empty. He paused, went to the door and looked for himself and turned to me to say, “No it’s not, it’s full.”

Now, I was young but I wasn’t stupid, but he was not the kind of man you would contradict so I remained quiet. My dubious expression probably gave me away and the Rector explained that the church was filled with angels and archangels and they were waiting for us to get started. I looked again, in case I missed something the first time. And I was caught in that place between denial and hope. Since the choice was up to me, and it really could have gone either way, I decided to choose in favor of the angels, and I’ve never regretted it.

It’s easy to find ourselves caught in that place between denial and hope. And at that very moment we have a choice to make and our choice determines how we live. We can live in a way that offers possibilities or in a way that closes them off. Denial can paralyze and hurt, hope can inspire growth. Given the choice, I’ll take growth.

St. Paul tells us that faith is the hope of things unseen. I hoped that the angels were there and in that hope watered the seed of my faith which is part of my humanity. As my faith has grown I have seen many wonders and miracles and even angels. Sometimes when I’m in this church by myself I’ll listen to try and hear them singing. When I don’t hear them, I’ll sing, and then I realize they’ve done their job. They are not here to entertain me, but to inspire me to sing God’s glory. Faith is active, not passive. We are not spectators but participants. The word “angel” means “messenger”, and that’s the message I got. Angels sing in glory whether anyone is there to hear them or not. Lucky for the shepherds that at that moment they heard. It inspired them to move and search for the infant.

When they found Jesus, nothing had really changed for them and yet everything changed for them. They went back to their flocks, but they were not the same as before. Something in their spirits had changed and quite possibly how they viewed the world they lived in.

Our world is a very different one. We see more than shepherds in the first century could ever have imagined. They saw wars and calamities, but no where near the level we see today. They saw natural disasters, but not the scope of those world wide that we see. They saw political and social corruption, but not as sophisticated and far reaching as we do. And yet they chose to sing the song of the angels and continue to glorify God and again we have a choice.

In 2005 Hurricane Katrina devastated the Gulf coast of this country. Among the traumas of that event was the shock of discovery of a neglected portion of the population in New Orleans. Shameful conditions of poverty, unequal access to services and funded programs that were siphoned away from the very people they were intended to help. The national spotlight uncovered a sad commentary on the way we treat our own citizens.

The financial hurricane of 2008 has similarly blown the roof off and exposed untold corruption and abuse of wealth and power which has already devastated so many and is poised for even more damage. The frustration to be felt by people of good will who are so shamelessly treated by the very people they turn to for help is maddening.

And yet it is the same people of good will who step up to the task of addressing the acts of physical and spiritual violence perpetrated by greed and the addiction of power. Grass roots donations of time, money and professional skills to meet the challenges of need and desperation left in the trauma of natural and man made hurricanes is the inspiring silver lining in the dark cloud looming over us now.

Angels are God’s messengers and the angels in this world roll up their sleeves and offer real help and deliver the message of God’s unfailing love.

Just as the levels of our challenges are the highest the world has ever known, the level of our ability to meet them is also the highest it’s ever been. Not only do we rush to the aid of those affected by natural disasters and provide services for those hard hit by financial struggle, we see strides in social justice. The election of an African American to the presidency in a country whose entrenched racism has engendered so much despair and anguish over the centuries is a sign of change and progress. The presence of marriage equality for gay and lesbian people in two states as well as in the public arena for debate and discussion in many others is another sign of progress. Struggle is part of the fabric of this planet and yet the voice of the angels in God’s world call for justice and peace and sing between heaven and earth inspiring it to come to pass. And they won’t stop until it does.

This afternoon at the family service I talked to the children about angels. I told them I had a picture of them in my pocket and asked them if they wanted to see it. They said “yes” as I had hoped they would. I have it here, would you like to see it? It’s in a nice frame. Here it is.

It’s a mirror. And as each child saw his or her face in it, I told them that they are angels. You see, angels aren’t only in heaven, or flying about sheep pastures. Angels are here on earth bringing God’s message of love and hope to make a better world and return it to the paradise it once was. We are God’s hands and feet, we are God’s message to those in pain in the world.

Evil does happen and will happen. Greed and abuse do happen and will happen. Our choices are to remain paralyzed in the presence of it, join it in cynical frustration or confront to it in God’s love. The baby in the manger grew to be a person worked miracles. That baby in its fragile, vulnerable state calls out to us in our fragile and vulnerable states to work miracles too.

The angels over the manger sang “Glory to God in the highest and on Earth Peace...” The shepherds found the baby in the manger and continued the song themselves.

A fragile and helpless baby was born in a manger 2000 years ago with a message and an invitation to be part of the love that heals. The angels in heaven told the angels on earth and the word has been spreading to this day. Never before has the world needed to hear this message more than it does now. Hear the message, allow its love to heal your spirit and inspire your actions to be a messenger of God’s love. Be an angel and sing to the glory of God. Amen.

© 2008 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

The Third Sunday of Advent

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

In the Gospel of John we just heard the Priests and Levites ask John the Baptist, “Who are you, then?” He told them, “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord.’”

In that short quote John is linked to the prophet Isaiah who spoke similar words centuries before. In this Advent season Isaiah and John play essential roles as messengers of God’s immanent arrival. They speak to different audiences, looking for God to come in different ways, accomplish different things and yet the message is that God is coming. There is another similarity in the message these two men speak. And that is the wilderness. Isaiah speaks from outside the wilderness, John speaks from within the wilderness, and both about preparing a way for God to enter into the wilderness.

Isaiah lived in the city of Jerusalem in the eighth century BC. He was among the city’s elite residents and had access to the king to whom he frequently gave advice. He had a long ministry and served over the span of four kings. Needless to say he was well regarded even when his advice was hard to follow and his assessments of political decisions made by some of the kings were rather stinging.

It was he who advised the King not to enter an alliance with Egypt even though the Babylonian enemies were breathing down their necks. At the crucial moment when Egypt was needed, they backed out leaving Israel to fend for themselves. Israel didn’t last long and the Babylonian conquest left the city in ruins and many of it’s citizens taken hostage and forced to walk hundreds of miles to relocation areas in Babylon.

Isaiah’s dire words of warning prior to the attack turned over the years into the words of hope reflected in our first lesson, “The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because he has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the broken hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners...” It was Isaiah who told them of the voice shouting, to prepare a way in the wilderness for God. The wilderness here had a double meaning - the exterior wilderness of the new land they were in and the interior wilderness of the sadness they were experiencing. In both cases, keep the faith and that faith will be the road by which God travels into the wilderness of your heart, the interior and exterior place of captivity, and lead you home.

Centuries later John the Baptist used words similar to Isaiah’s, but in his case he spoke as one who was actually in the wilderness. Again the use of the word wilderness has both a literal and metaphoric meaning. Being at the Jordan river, John was far away from Jerusalem and people had to walk a great distance to get to him. For anyone coming out of any city, the land beyond is all wilderness. If you’ve ever invited a Manhattan resident to New Jersey for dinner you know what I mean. They get very nervous about leaving the city, and would prefer we go there. No matter what century we’re talking about the phenomenon seems to be the same.

Even so in Jerusalem, to go to see John in the wilderness was a big deal. And of course he, like Isaiah dealt not only with the wilderness as a geographic place, but referred to the wilderness of the heart. John preached a message of repentance and forgiveness as a method to prepare the way for God.

With all the hubbub going on outside the city, the religious authorities wanted to go find out what was going on. All the talk about a Messiah on the way from someone new and not properly credentialed could be problematic, not only from a religious point a view, but from a political one as well. The Romans got rather ticklish about forecasts of new Messiahs. It usually meant rebellion and they would have to clamp down as they had in the past. The Priests and Levites went to find out what was going on before trouble began.

“Who are you?” They asked. The scriptures said that before the Messiah came, Elijah would return or one of the other Prophets. So the priests and Levites asked if he were any of these. John said no and invoked the words of Isaiah, meaning I’m not a prophet, I’m simply a voice saying prepare the way of the Lord. He’s coming soon.

Since this is Advent, we really don’t get into the part where Jesus actually arrives on the scene. We stay in the period of waiting in the wilderness. Holding onto that feeling of trepidation, wanting whatever is holding us captive to stop, and for things to get better; that feeling of being lost in the wilderness and waiting for God to come and rescue us. If you’ve ever felt that way, perhaps you can recall the feeling now and also recall how desperately we clung to the voices which gave us hope.

Those voices usually fell into two categories. First, people who didn’t know what we were going through but held our hands through the ordeal. The second category was the people who had actually been through what we were going through and spoke from experience. Both are needed, and yet both serve us differently.

It’s been two years since our youth group went on a mission trip to Mississippi to help the areas still ravaged by Hurricane Katrina. The destruction of the gulf coast was a wilderness all its own - literally through the devastation of the towns and cities and emotionally in the spirits and psyches of the residents. One of the most moving moments of our trip was when a staff member of the church we used as home base started to cry when telling our youth they had no idea how much it meant to them to have us there, that they weren’t forgotten by those outside the devastation. We were to them like the voice outside their wilderness speaking words of hope, that they are remembered and cared for by us, and so many others, and that God is working through us.

Their time of captivity will end. We don’t know when it will end fully, but it will, because we remember and God continues to work through those outside their wilderness.

This memory came back recently after seeing a news item on how far the work in the hurricane devastated area has come. In some places it’s progressed quite far, in many other places not far enough. I was stuck by one woman whose work was organizing schools for children displaced by the hurricane. Her dedication and commitment as a life long resident of the New Orleans area was immensely inspiring. Her strength of faith and character provided a different voice of one in the wilderness. Someone who knows the suffering first hand and is there for the long haul. She is helping the children prepare a way in their wilderness for God’s healing and hope.

Both voices are needed, the one calling from outside saying, “Hold on, help is on the way.” To the voice from inside saying, “I know what you’re going through, I’m here with you and we’re going to make it.”

We each have our places of wilderness and we all need God to enter. God offers the healing and strength we need at different times individually and collectively. Sometimes we need to hear the voice, and sometimes we need to be the voice. But in both cases the message is to prepare the way to let God in.

And that’s often easier said than done. Letting God in means first to quiet the voices of our particular “Priests and Levites” who ask, Who do you think you are? Who told you, you could be a voice? What are your credentials?

Those are the voices of insecurity. Like John we can state simply that indeed we are a voice, and that statement is the only credential we really need. Insecurity is one set of bushes and brush that block the road. We can clear them away and allow God entry. We can be the voice someone else needs to hear. We can step in and our concern is credential enough.

Another roadblock is our sense of unworthiness for God. Things that stand in the way are guilt over past hurts or mistakes we’ve made. We may not feel worthy to help another, or even more so, not worthy to be helped. Fear and doubt are road blocks and they keep the wilderness fortified. John leads the way here in offering repentance and forgiveness and real repentance requires confession. Confession really has a bad rap these days and it’s a shame. It really offers a lot of healing. We all have something we need to let go of. And confession is as good a vehicle as any to get rid of it. It’s comes as a big surprise to many that the Episcopal church offers private confession. It’s rarely taken advantage of and I believe that has much to do with first, not knowing it’s available and second, having horror stories from the past of private confession. Chris Carroll and I are available to hear private confessions and I promise we won’t make it scary. Mistakes that happened once in the past may still haunt. Some mistakes that happen time and again have their own pain that needs attention. Talking about it in a spiritually supportive environment helps.

People left the city in droves to get the reassurance of God’s love they needed from John the Baptist and the assurance of forgiveness. We all have a spiritual hunger for the same thing, and the solution is the same today as it was then. Talk about it, say the words out loud. Hear the words of forgiveness and the healing spirit of God.

I remember my last trip to my confessor where I told him my biggest and worst secrets. I still see the look in his eyes when he asked me, “Is that all you got?” I was actually insulted that he wasn’t shocked. But the point is, those things bothered me. And because they did, I lived in a wilderness that I could have gotten out of much earlier if I had simply talked about it through confession. With the words of forgiveness came a real sense of relief and healing. I invite you to take seriously the invitation to a healthy confession, not a guilt producing one, but a guilt relieving one.

Whether our wilderness is physical in where we live and move, or whether the wilderness is in the spirit created by insecurity, fear, doubt or guilt, God will come in. But we have to do our part and prepare the way. If we’re unsure of the way there are voices both inside and outside the wilderness to guide us. We wait in hope until we decide what to do and when we decide it’s OK to let God in, prepare the way God will come. Amen.

© 2008 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Gabriel's Gift

By The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight. All this we ask in the name of our God who created us, His Son who redeems us and the Spirit that makes us holy. Amen.

As we come to the end of our liturgical year, we pause and take this day to acknowledge and honor Jesus Christ as our king; to celebrate His victory over death and to examine what His authority over His kingdom means to us. We not only come to this day to celebrate the person and work of Christ, but we look to the absolute certainty that His continuing reign among us assures us of His everlasting peace and justice for all of His people.

Matthew’s Gospel brings us full circle from the Ezekiel reading. Ezekiel shares with us that God will take over as the shepherd of his sheep and that he will seek out and search for his sheep. God will gather them up and bring them to a safe place -- “their own land” -- from those places from which they had been scattered on the day of exile. And God gives his promise to find those who are lost; and to those injured, He will heal; and to those weak, He will strengthen. But, there is also some bad news to ponder. Ezekiel makes it clear as does the Gospel of Matthew, that there will be judgment by God on the last day. The entire flock, all of us, Ezekiel proclaims, will stand before God to be judged for the treatment of our fellow sheep.

There will be consequences for our actions and inactions. What is made clear in both the Old and New Testament readings is how we treat one another matters. But it’s important to understand that the readings today are not about a theology of works of righteousness. If we take the time to understand and put into context all of Jesus’ teachings, then what should emerge for us is that we do acts of love and compassion not to gain a room in the heavenly mansion. No. We do these things because of the One who loved us first. We do these things in response to what God has done for us through Christ. And because of God’s love, we should be absolutely impelled… driven without hesitation… to love others because there is absolutely no other way for us to respond to God’s powerful, transforming love.

Exactly who are the “least of these”? The Gospel tells us, “for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” Before we take the jump to look outside of ourselves to see who these “least” might be, I thought it would be best to stay right here -- within these walls -- and take a moment to identify with the “least” among us.

Many here at St. George’s understand what it means to be exiled. From family and friends; from co-workers, even our own Church communities and parts of the world, we have experienced and felt exile simply because we happen to be gay or lesbian. Others here who aren’t gay or lesbian also understand and have experienced exile for other reasons but imposed by and from many of the same entities. Most of us, if not each and everyone of us here, knows very intimately what it feels like to be naked and exposed -- to have our vulnerabilities sitting right out in the open -- because of the painful hurts and deep wounds inflicted and suffered at one time or another. Most of us have been thirsty for love, hungry for companionship, and to have a sense of belonging.

Who are the least of these that Jesus speaks of? It’s all of us in some way or another. Yes. Jesus speaks and identifies first with the poor, the weak, the sick, the lonely, the aged, the imprisoned -- but he also speaks of and to us. There were no outcasts in Jesus’ ministry -- there are no outcasts in His love for us. Each one of us who has experienced any kind of spiritual or emotional exile often find ourselves longing for the God who searches us out; we long for the God who heals our wounds; and we long for the God who restores us to new life in Him through Jesus.

At the end of our lives, it doesn’t matter if we lived a long life or a short one. In the end, it doesn’t matter whether or not we made a ton of money or we were the hottest personality around. In the end it only matters if we brought joy to those around us. In the end, it only matters if we gave what we had to better the life of someone else, known or unknown to us. Whether what we had to offer was clothing or food; to visit or care for someone who was sick or imprisoned; or to give the simple gift of a red tricycle to a homeless child living in a shelter.

For the past several weeks, I’ve been on a journey with a little 2½ year old boy that I personally never had the opportunity to meet in this life. But I have met him and have come to know him through God’s amazing grace. I have come to know him through his artwork that he and his mother Suzette did while he was in the hospital. I have come to know him through his father Miguel who read the most amazing love letter to him at his funeral right here at St. George’s not so long ago. I have come to know him through his grandmother Yolanda who made a promise to buy him a red tricycle for his 3rd birthday.

Gabriel left us at the tender age of 2½ years… just 17 days before his 3rd birthday. But oh sweet Jesus, what a life this child had! He was the absolute embodiment of love. He gave all that he had and all that he sought in return was the absolute love of those in his life and he received that love back from them in abundance. His short life was filled with the beauty of his artwork, the beauty of his joyful spirit, the beauty of his song and dance, the beauty of the love of his family -- a joy so absolutely fundamental to who he was, that his parents, Suzette and Miguel, stood right there; right there, next to his casket and did Gabriel’s “happy dance” during his funeral. My friends, I can’t even begin to express to you my feelings at seeing the both of them -- naked and exposed in their grief -- dancing for Gabriel, their most beloved son who they lost so early. That moment will forever remain in my thoughts and in my heart.

Gabriel left us far too soon, but his life will not be a story of only loss, or a story of God’s absence. His story is a story that his parents and grandparents are determined to write for him. His story will be one of kindness, generosity and love. A little later on during our service, Father Poppe will bless a tricycle in Gabriel’s name on behalf of another 3 year old child from Turning Point Community Services, the shelter program for women and children that I oversee and which Carla and I founded some years ago. It is my absolute honor to be able to accept that tricycle on behalf of Gabriel for this child. I am deeply touched and moved beyond words at the incredible act of unselfishness offered by Yolanda in her grief.

Because of a grandmother’s promise, 3 year old Iyanna will be able to know a different type of joy in her young life. She’ll ride around on that tricycle with exuberance, leaving her 3 year old worries and cares on the wayside. She’ll be able to dance the happy dance of playfulness and enthusiasm with her new bike. And why? Because of Gabriel.

On the 4th Sunday of Advent, we will hear in Luke’s Gospel how God sent His angel, Gabriel to visit Mary and to tell her of her favored status with God and that she would bear a son. The word angel means messenger. I truly believe that our Gabriel is a messenger sent from God; sent to teach us what life can be like. A life lived in full abundance -- full of creativity, hope and joy -- a life that touches the lives of others with grace, wonder and possibility. Can any one of us aspire to more than this in our more advanced years? You see, it really doesn’t matter if we live long or short lives.

Mother Teresa said: “We can do no great things for God, but we can do small things with great love.” This small gift from a small boy’s grandmother is a gift of that great love. Yolanda’s love for Gabriel as well as Miguel and Suzette’s love for him and Gabriel’s love for them, issues forth in love for every parent, for every grandparent, for every aunt and uncle and cousin, for every godparent, and every child because they know -- they know as we should know -- just how special and irreplaceable each and every person is.

Each one of us here today is that irreplaceable. Each one of us here today is that loved. God loves each one of us equally. He loves us so completely and calls us to love one another as He loves us. There is no “us” and “them” -- there is only “us”. There is no “we” and “they”. There is only “we” -- one family, cradled under one God, each one of us brother and sister to the other in Christ just as Gabriel is now a brother to Iyanna and who will watch over her as she races around the shelter on that little red tricycle and as he will watch over every other child that comes through our doors. The least of us -- the hungry, sick, naked, poor -- we are siblings to them all. How will we love them? How will we love us?

In the end, it won’t matter if we lived long lives or short. It won’t matter if we made a fortune or lost a fortune; it won’t matter if we built the biggest house in the universe or if we lost our home. What will matter: did we take the opportunity to share what was ours and share it in love? Did we recognize and understand that we are so inextricably bound to one another that our caring for our neighbor is caring for God Himself and that this is always our calling? Did we take any risks -- did we step out in faith -- to help another?

Jesus tells us: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.”

Amen.

© 2008 The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

Make a Difference

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The lessons leading up to the first Sunday in Advent which is in two short weeks have contained echoes of the themes normally found in Advent, namely, waiting and watching; being prepared. Last week the parable of the ten bridesmaids and the warning to be prepared since we don’t know the day or the hour. This week the landowner goes on a trip and the servants know he’ll return, but they don’t know when and they hope to have something to show him when he returns so they set about working with what they’ve been given.
Paul’s Epistles have these themes also with the frightening images of destruction coming suddenly despite the assurances they received from others that all is well. Paul says the Lord will come “like a thief in the night.” He advises his listeners to be ready with a breastplate of faith and love, and a helmet of hope.

These are disturbing images and yet compelling. Paul and his followers expected Jesus to come any day and raise the faithful into the heavens and leave the non believers behind. It’s a belief that continues to this day with stark warnings of apocalyptic destruction, end times and the rescue of the good people and the anguish of those who were not ready.

In Paul’s time as in our own each prediction of the “end times” proves to be wrong. History is full of stories of communities gathered around someone who believes they cracked the code to predict when the actual end was coming only to be foiled. This line of thinking provides great fodder for the movie industry who makes great action movies giving graphic images of the destruction some say is described in the Bible.

After two thousand years of the starts and stops of this form of belief, it might be a good time to reconsider the meaning. I, for one, do not believe that the Creator of the world will destroy it through violence. I believe that such stories can be exploited to create fear and manipulate people who are inclined to believe the stories.

If God were going to destroy the world, there have been plenty of opportunities and reasons to do so. It would appear that the only ones poised to wreak the kind of havoc and destruction of apocalyptic proportion are people themselves. War, genocide, atomic and nuclear weaponry are of human design, not divine.

I think the spiritual truths of such scriptures focus on the realities of life as we live it and the conditions of the worlds in which we find ourselves. Disasters and wars do, in fact come suddenly. Attacks are planned secretly and are carried out by surprise. Even natural disasters can come without warning or prediction. On a personal level, accidents, tragedy and death can come by surprise and catch us unprepared. Moods of fear and anger can catapult a peaceful situation into an attack with disastrous results. In the ancient Hebrew mind these incidents all came from God with people only the instruments. Our thinking today puts the responsibility for most of these violent acts on the people in whom they originate.

Yet, be that as it may, innocent people are still often caught unaware and do need to be prepared in spirit for any eventuality. God comes at these times, not as the originator of the disaster, but as the spirit of courage, strength and vision to help the individuals transcend it.

Let’s take a look at the Gospel. The lesson of the talents is a wonderful parable. It often makes its appearance around the time that most churches are doing their stewardship campaigns. I suppose it’s to inspire us to pledge more.

It might be a way of saying that in order to grow you have to give more. It takes money to make money, that sort of thing. That’s true, I think, for the most part. But these days seem to vindicate the fellow who buried his talent. I find it hard to believe that the one who invested five talents would have a 100% return to produce for his master. Yet again, if everyone invested their five talents at the same time, we might turn things around and prove the parable true in an economic sense. But somehow I don’t think that’s what this parable is about. It uses the investment of money to illustrate the investment of spirit. It’s about engaging in the world and presenting ourselves in service to the world. Talent is a good ambiguous term that can be used as money and also as that part of our characters and spirits that represent the gifts that we have as individuals we are unique and each of us has something to offer the world that no one else does. What a shame if we are not fully ourselves, since the world, our various communities in a smaller sense and even we ourselves in another way, would be the lesser for the lack of our gifts being used to their full potential.

I see the talents given the servants as symbolic of their willingness to be engaged in the world around them. Some people are “out there” really involved and living their faith in action. These people are rewarded in a high quality of relationships and even more than that grow and develop as people. They say “nothing succeeds like success” and being involved in the world around us inspires us to be even more involved and to care even more. Others hide. Some people allow their fear, anger or insecurities to prevent them from being part of the wider society, or even a group of friends. As a result, they suffer from isolation and loneliness that goes deep into the soul. There are endless gradations of this spectrum. Some are world leaders, some are local leaders, some are church leaders, some are people who just show up to help a cause they believe in. Wide varieties of talents invested in different ways, with some having remarkable abilities that bring them to national and international levels, and others on much smaller and anonymous levels. But each person who uses their gifts enjoys the reward that comes from being engaged.

On the first Tuesday of every month I go to a Daytop facility in Mendham. Daytop is a string of drug and alcohol rehabilitation centers for adolescents. I volunteer to lead a discussion meeting with some of the kids. Most of these kids have been placed in the facility through court orders as an alternative to jail or institutions. For many it’s a last chance and most have been addicted to substances from early ages and their chances to make it in the world seem dim, and yet we have to keep trying to reach them.

The first Tuesday of November of course was election day and I went that evening h hoping to be done in time to get home and watch election results. I got there early and sat on a bench near the office waiting until the room where the meeting is held was made ready. There was a young man also on the bench looking nervously at the administrator’s door, jumping each time the door knob rattled. Usually it’s an indication that the kid is in trouble waiting for judgment, but this time as I learned while talking to him, he had just turned 18 and wanted to vote. He was registered in Morristown and hoped the administrator would give permission and arrange a ride for him. After a few minutes and a few door rattles, permission was granted. He was ecstatic and the light in his eye gleamed in a way that is absent from most of the kids. As he was getting to the door to leave I called after him, “Hey, go make a difference!” He turned back to look at me and said “I’m going to.” And he did. When he joined the group later that evening after voting, his smiles were contagious. The other kids felt it and wished they could have voted. They were drawn to his joy and wanted to feel some of their own. Had he stayed in the building that night, hidden his talent, he would have felt the pain of only wishing he had tried. No one would have benefited. But he made an effort and it was rewarded. He grew from the experience, the others in the program grew from it. He did make a difference.

Each of us has talents to offer. What we do with them is our choice. Through faith and effort our lives can be transformed and our transformation can inspire and transform those around us, and even the world in time. If we don’t we might as well be cast in outer darkness where we’ll be tortured by the memories of lost opportunities and sad refrains of “What if...” That’s weeping and gnashing of teeth. But it’s not God that condemns us to that, it’s our own fear of trying. Even if we fail in achieving our goal, the act of trying is where the growth happens.

The world is full of dangers and mishaps. It’s tempting to hide and not risk anything. But the irony is that in not risking, we lose everything that matters anyway. Our spirits dry up, and our integrity suffers.

It’s our ability to be engaged in the world around us with whatever amount of talents we have that prepares us for whatever happens. It is in fact the breastplate of faith and the helmet of hope Paul talks about. Later in the service we’re going to hear about Broadway House and the work they do with people living with AIDS. They’re involved and their work rewards them and those with whom they work.

We are finishing up our stewardship campaign and despite the conditions of the world around us we are doing well and it has to be because our membership is also involved in this church and it’s ministry. Our work here is rewarding to the degree that we are involved and many around us benefit from that work as well.

I do not believe God pushes us out of fear, but invites us in faith to transcend those fears or other limitations to grow into people rich in spirit and witness to those who hide their talents in the ground. Life is rich and full of meaning, joy and fulfillment. God is calling us to enter it. Go and make a difference! Amen.

© 2008 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

The Greatest Commandment

By The Rev. Christian Carroll, Priest Associate

If you have been here the last two Sundays or opened your mail in the last two weeks then you know we are in the middle of our stewardship season. I don’t like the word “stewardship”.

What does it mean when we add “ship” to a word? Think about it. “Friendship”, “Companionship”, “Leadership”. To me they’re concepts that point to activities. It’s the activities we’re interested in. The meat is in the “friending”, the “companioning”, the “leading”, the “stewarding”. So what’s “stewarding”?

If a steward is someone given the job of maintaining and spending assets (think of a wine steward with the key to the wine cellar where the good wines are kept and maintained) then stewardship would be reflecting on stewarding or how the job of maintaining and spending assets is going.

So when I say we’re in stewardship season I mean we’re at the time of year when we start reflecting on our individual and joint “stewarding” or how we’re doing at the job of maintaining, protecting and spending assets.

We’re asking “how am I, how are we doing at maintaining, protecting and spending the assets that we’re charged with.”

In a church the assets are not bottles of wine and the job is not just maintaining the correct temperature so they’re ready to be enjoyed. In a church our asset is God’s grace in our lives. Jesus gives us our most important charge in this morning’s gospel. That is, loving the Lord our God with all our heart, and with all our soul, and with all our mind and loving our neighbor as our self.

Stewardship is reflecting on the “our stewarding” that is the actions that flow from our conscious desire to know love and serve God with everything we’ve got.

So every year at this time, a stewardship committee, made up of congregation members is gathered and charged with leading the congregation in reflecting on how we as individuals and as a congregation are responding to our charge to be stewards of God’s grace in our lives.

During this time we think about God’s grace. We think about God’s presence and impact on our daily lives. We think about, how or if we are motivated to respond. We ask “How are we doing with what Jesus calls the greatest commandments?” We listen to members of the congregation when they step forward to bear witness – to share their reflections and their experiences in stewarding. As we will again in a few minutes.

We take a step back and take an inventory of ourselves, our talents, our finances, our gifts, our time – all the stuff of our individual households – all the stuff that makes us who we are – and we acknowledge that – all things come of thee oh Lord – and question how – we are giving from what has been given us.

This inventory is not so we can passively offer thanks to God with a grateful heart but to see how we have lived the greatest commandment to “love the Lord our God with all your heart, and with all our soul, and with all our mind”.

This inventory is not so we can passively offer thanks to God with a grateful heart but to see how we have “loved our neighbors as ourselves” using what is given us by God. Have we loved our neighbors as God has loved us?

And we form a committee to get us started. I have served on the stewardship committee for two seasons. And it’s not easy. Each year the members of that committee struggled.

We were uncomfortable. We struggled with the fact that the word “stewardship” seems to take center stage in our corporate life only when it’s time to plan next year’s budget.

Stewardship seems to always come down to the action of asking for money so we can keep the doors open, the lights on, the silver polished and the place warm, and ourselves doing all the things we have been doing here.

And each year the committee laments that we know that stewardship is not all about money. We know it’s about individual and corporate ministry. We know it’s about how we individually and corporately seek to witness to new life in Jesus Christ.

I think part of the struggle with stewardship as we practice it in this season occurs from a sense of embarrassment. That is embarrassment that, although we know better – stewardship always seems to get brought back down to money, despite the many ways we do indeed share our blessings in ministry both inside and outside these walls. Why is that?

We seem unable or unwilling to embrace stewardship as an ongoing reflection that can be a celebration of how we spend ourselves to the glory of God. We seem inattentive to integrating the joyful celebration of “our responses to God’s grace in our lives” throughout the church year.

I think I have an idea why. It has to do with fear and forgetting.

Because stewardship gets linked to money the whole reflection on blessings gets tainted. We taint the whole practice of seeing how we’re doing at using what we’ve been given. Linking stewardship only to money links stewardship to a resource we have that can become scarce at the drop of a hat. Poof, “money”, now it’s here, now it’s gone, will it ever come back? That particular asset is so tied to our self-esteem, our value and sense of security that money becomes hard for us to talk about. “Money”, now it’s here, now it’s gone, will it ever come back?

When stewardship gets linked principally to money it gets linked to fear and fear gets linked to giving. “If I give it – anything – I will not have it, – I will not have it and I will not be safe. If I am not safe, I might die.

The scholar Walter Brueggemann writes, “Stewardship is not about raising money for church, but about asking if there is any alternative to the culture of death in which we live.” Translate “the culture of death” in your mind to the “culture of not enough”. To restate Brueggemann then “Stewardship is not about raising money for church, but about asking if there is any alternative to the culture of not enough in which we live.” In the culture of not enough fear replaces stewardship – that is – our responding in action to God’s graces in our lives, becomes something fearful. “Fear that there won’t be enough.”

And the fear that there won’t be enough, says Brueggemann, is really about seeing our past, individual and corporate” as “barren of miracles”. “A past without gifts and a future without hope gives a present that is an arena for anxiety.” If there is no acknowledgement or a denial of miracles, of God’s beneficence, then “the only way to get anywhere is to invent yourself and scramble for whatever you can get.”

If we leave unchallenged “a culture of not enough” or if we turn away from challenging our own fears of what will happen to us if we do not have enough than Brueggemann suggests we end up living as if our neighbors are a threat and the greatest and second greatest commandments are too much for our fears to bear.

The alternative is to step away – even if only in small steps – from whatever it is that stymies us from embracing in celebration all the ways we do spend ourselves to the glory of God. The alternative is to step away from whatever it is that stymies us from integrating the joyful celebration of “our responses to God’s grace” throughout the church year. The alternative is to reclaim stewarding and “stewardship” from money and fear.

I’m convinced we have a new opportunity here. We can throw open clouded up windows and take a new look at stewardship. Reclaim the word. Take it away from money; dissociate it from a financial burden. Don’t think about the money.

Think about this. Let’s look at reality – the reality of how this congregation has been maintaining, protecting and using its gifts.

There is palpable new energy in St. George’s that doesn’t have much to do with money.

We have neighborhood kids joining the choir camp. Our kids are inviting friends to join them in church. Our music program keeps getting bigger and better. We have a new liturgy for people in recovery. We have the willingness to experiment with the shape of our worship space. We have the ability to change.

We have women in the congregation stepping up who want to offer the congregation and the community more. Women who want to pray and learn together. We have new adult leadership jumping in and getting involved in guiding our young people. People from the outside, our neighbors, come in here to take a look at us to see if we have what they want or are trying to find.

We have people in our midst who greet those newcomers with joy and enthusiasm. New people are interested and excited about learning about the church and they come to seekers class. People come here to have their relationships blessed in weddings and civil unions. People come to hear our musicians in concerts. People come here to do yoga. People come here to celebrate the changing of seasons in ritual celebrations. People come here to learn how to stay sober and help other people attain sobriety. We have new people stepping up and teaching Sunday school and new people on the behind the scenes committees like property and finance. We have a talented and generous web master. Our wardens are active and vestry members supporting individual ministries.

And there are other ministries going on behind the scenes. Volunteerism, the pastoral visits, the gardeners, the people who pray with people for healing, the people who loving and prayerfully maintain the sanctuary, the people who make our worship function smoothly and all the helping hands giving unbeknownst to all of us. We have people serving on not-for-profit boards. We have people hammering nails for the Abraham House project. We gave over $20,000 to community organizations whose work reflects our commitment to be of service. If I’ve forgotten you or your ministry activity forgive me.

Let’s get used to speaking about the plenty we have here and let ourselves be inspired to keep using it. Let’s keep holding up our graces. Let’s keep holding up God’s beneficence in our lives. Use it, Use it, and Use it.

We each are an opportunity to witness to God’s grace. Your life itself is the opportunity. I challenge us to free stewardship from fear and concentrate year-round with stewarding – active intentional spending our treasures.

If I could I would give you all little keys to put on your key chains. They would be reminders like the wine steward’s key. They would be like the key to the wine cellar but our wine cellar has the bounty of the kingdom of God and we’re going to keep opening it up everyday to every neighbor we touch. And we’ll commit to doing this when we remember the miracles and when we fear they’ll stop. We keep doing it with or without fear. That is our charge. We’re going to keep opening the Kingdom up everyday to every neighbor we touch.

© 2008 The Rev. Christian Carroll

The Great Experiment

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

There was a small item in the news this week that was lost amid the financial turbulence. It involved a man by the name of Paul Emory Washington. Perhaps because it's an election year, or perhaps because of the turbulent times we're now in, or most likely in a bid for advertising by a genealogy company, research was done on the ancestry of our first President George Washington to discover his oldest living heir.

The process was complicated by the fact that George Washington had no children. But the intrepid genealogists followed the rules of their science of kinship to trace the line which led them from the late 1700's to 2008 to 82 year old Paul Emory Washington of San Antonio, Texas.

Being of presidential lineage is not that uncommon, as a matter of fact, we're pleased to know that one of our own church members is a direct descendant of President Ulysses S. Grant.

However, what makes Paul Washington of interest is that in the days following the Revolutionary War, George Washington was offered the monarchy. The role of President had not been invented yet, and the new American country only knew one form of leadership, that of Sovereign Monarchs. So grateful was the nation to George Washington that they offered him the crown. Perhaps Jesus was the only other person in history to decline such an honor. But, Washington so believed in the leadership capability of the people that he championed the idea of President and elected terms as part of the great experiment of Democracy. Had Washington accepted the crown and become King, Paul Emerson Washington of San Antonio, Texas might just have been our reigning King.

Mr. Washington humbly brushes aside any notion of regal standing, though his children are quoted as being quite sure he'd make a dandy king.

In the early days of American independence, there was a great deal of fear and worry that the "great experiment" as it became known would fail. Drawing up a whole new governmental system as it was adopted in 1787 didn't seem quite as easy as it had in 1776 when they signed the declaration for independence. It was indeed risky and the lives of everyone in the country weighed in the balance.

Many people looked back to the traditional method of monarchy as the solution to their fear. It's what they knew, and in the anxiety of facing an unknown, untried "experiment," to many people, returning to the monarchy seemed a conservative and prudent course of action.

To some degree this is the mind set of the Israelites wandering in the desert as we continue this account from the Book of Exodus. They really didn't know what they had gotten themselves into. Yes, they had been miserable; and yes they cried out for help. But who was Moses anyway? Modern readers have the end of the story and several millennia of myth and lore surrounding it to know who Moses was, but to the people in the desert he was a young, relatively unknown, untested man whose only claim to authority was speaking to a burning bush. He told them of a God whose name was so holy that they couldn't even say it. A God who was everywhere, yet invisible, and a God who had singled them out for a particular relationship. It didn't bode well.

There were signs and wonders along the way, but quite possibly they were coincidences. And there was that disturbing habit Moses had of going off by himself climbing mountains and disappearing for months at a time. In our first lesson we read about the last straw the Israelites were prepared to endure. He was gone too long, they were scared and lost and fearful that Moses and this God were gone forever. They decided it was time to return to what they knew. And what they knew were carved images they called gods. The needed the security of seeing their gods and carrying them and knowing where they were. They wanted to know their names and speak directly to them. They had reached a point of thinking their own great experiment had indeed failed and it was time to return to the old ways.

Well, Moses did return and he set them straight. We know the ending of that story and how the people of Israel did continue to make their way through the desert to their promised land, and similarly we know the ending of the story after the American Revolution, how the Constitution was written and how each community put their trust in God, engraving it, in the former case on tablets of stone, and in the later case on dollar bills.

The Gospel lesson gives us another very strange image of God's invitation to community. What a wedding that must have been! I don't think I've ever received and invitation to a wedding that has elicited from me a hostile response toward the mail carrier - much less kill her. Nor would it have occurred to me to re-examine the cause of a town's destruction to be the work of an angry father of the groom. I can only imagine the second round of guests looking at the carnage around them and tell the next set of messengers they'd be delighted to attend the wedding. It sounds like a real blast. This is like the Kingdom of Heaven, huh? Some parables work better than others.

Sifting through the debris of the Gospel lesson we can actually see how the invitation from God to enter into joy is often met with resistance. The messengers who were the prophets did try to prepare the people for righteous living worthy of God and they were ridiculed and killed. This is where I differ with the teller of the story. I don't believe that a loving God retaliates against the wrongs done to the messengers. I think the towns tend to destroy themselves through their own pettiness or carelessness, or greed, or hostility.

There is a theology in the world that credits God with earthly destruction. I think such theologies are the worst cuts of all. We can look around the world at the wars, violence and financial crisis and figure out that this is not God's doing. This is ours. God invites us to a kingdom of joy and we refuse the offer with, and through, violence.

But in God's love it doesn't stop there. God asks again and again until someone shows up. During my lifetime the biggest crisis and catastrophes I've seen have been the rise and falls of stock markets in 1987, 2001 and this current one. I've seen the devastation of the early AIDS epidemic and lost more friends than I care to count. I watched in horror as the towers fell in 2001 and spent countless hours in pastoral care for those who lost loved ones or colleagues or hope. We all watched the devastation of the tsunamis and hurricanes, especially Katrina.

Yet in each of these crisis I witnessed miracles. The overwhelming power of love to face the challenges. The number of people who rose to the occasion to be God's hands and voice in times of need. Volunteers to work or donate money or time and expertise are, in keeping with the parable, those who accepted the invitation to the wedding feast. People who come to the help of others in time of crisis and need are the people who experience the kingdom of God and its love. In each of these crisis we did not know what was going to happen next, but pulling together we walked through the difficult terrain of unknowing through the sheer will of doing the next right thing.

In times of uncertainty it's a very real temptation to look back and try to replicate older solutions to older problems. But new problems require new solutions and they aren't always clear or obvious. They take faith and will power. They take integrity and patience. When I read about the executives who used part of their bail out money for a $400K junket, I thought of the guest who came to the wedding not dressed properly.

We've lived through crisis before and we'll certainly live through this one. It's an opportunity for all of us to do our daily work and live our daily lives committed to honesty and service to our fellow travelers. If anyone is tempted to feel sorry for themselves, then it's time for that person to help another.

In one sense we picked a horrible time for a Stewardship Campaign. But in another sense, this is a perfect time. People are afraid and giving threatens to be low. But on the other hand the need is greater now than ever to do what we do best, and that is to live, preach and witness the Good News of God in Christ. Hope is one of the foundations of our common lives here. It's a demonstrated fact that whenever public crisis hit, people turn to houses of faith in ways they never had before. We need to continue our work and ministry and be prepared to offer a spiritual haven and living example of the triumph of love in the face of adversity. We are not a people defeated and we are not a people looking backward. We do not look for scapegoats nor do we shrink from difficult questions. Our faith means everything to us and for that reason we must continue to pledge toward the work and witness of St. George's.

Over the next few weeks we'll conduct this program a little differently than before, but ultimately the need remains to make a financial pledge that makes sense for each household. No one of us will presume to tell you what that should be. We will make clear that we made good decisions last year regarding our budget and though we have a deficit it's much smaller than in years past. I think we've found the right balance. We need to maintain it to stay where we are, but we also need to grow our income side if we are to grow in our ministry. Our family and youth programs have been doing so well, I would personally love to see our income grow enough to hire a youth minister. There are a lot of ways we can grow, but first we must recommit ourselves to the value of the ministry we already do and the value of the faith, hope and love that is nurtured in this church. It's up to all of us to keep it strong and it's up to God to help us. God has never let his people down and certainly will not this day.

When the apostle Paul wrote to his church facing hard times he wrote these words for their comfort and inspiration: "...Beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think on these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you." Amen.

© 2008 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

The World Is Changed

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Once upon a time, in a Kingdom far away there lived a princess. She was very beautiful and wherever she walked the birds would sing and bright flowers would open up. She liked to go for walks in the forest around the castle and call to the deer and rabbits to walk along with her. Then one day she strayed farther than usual into the woods and realized that no one was around. She replaced her princess dress with her party clothes and tore out of the woods in her royal Ferrari leaving the deer and rabbits in a cloud of dust on her way to the disco.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one.

I’d get this far before my very young nieces and nephews would scream in a chorus of "No!!!’s" That’s not how to tell a fairy tale, they’d complain through their giggles. I’d try again, but they didn’t want to hear about Cinderella in the Industrial Waste Dump either. (I didn’t get many invitations to baby sit. My sister had no sense of humor.)

Well, I’d ask, how do you tell a fairy tale? And I’d get the same old conventional Grimm Brother’s garden variety story. The real message was, "Don’t mess with our fairy tales. Either tell them right or don’t tell them at all."

That’s not unlike the message Jesus got when he told the parable or the Vineyard. He took a perfectly good old favorite story and put it on it’s head. The story of the Vineyard was an old favorite first told by the Prophet Isaiah centuries before. Everyone knew it and when Jesus began his version of it, like my nieces and nephews they no doubt began to relax with the familiar cadences until he changed it. In the fifth chapter of Isaiah the story starts, "Let me sing for my beloved a love song concerning his Vineyard." Now that’s how you start a story! It’s the Old Testament version of "Once upon a time." It continues, "My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill, He digged it and cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines; he built a watchtower in the mist of it, and hewed out a wine vat in it... and he looked to it to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes." It too was a parable of Israel’s disobedience and unfaithfulness to God, but Jesus turned it on it’s head and gave it a Martin Scorsese ending with a lot of violence. In Jesus’ version the tenants in the Vineyard got greedy and wanted all the income for themselves and thought to kill the landlord’s son in order to get it.

The scribes and Pharisees listening to the story may not yet have understood the flow of it, but the generation later that read the Gospel certainly made the connections with the Christ figure of the son being killed and the greedy tenants being the religious leaders. The rejection of evil people and replacement of a new people in the vineyard must have given the average listener hope.

The addition of the verse about the rejected stone becoming the cornerstone added another dimension to the lesson. Though Jesus was rejected and crucified, he became the cornerstone after all for their beliefs and lives. Jesus really knew how to take a story and run with it.

But people still don’t like their stories being tampered with. The financial crisis that hit the world has tampered with an American story begun in the post world war II era. A story about an America strong and independent who could lead and not need any other country. This latest crisis has in fact shown that America is not isolated and invulnerable, but linked to a world economy that must be considered partners not servants or unequals.

There are important lessons to be learned about how to conduct business that include responsibility and accountability. Greed and fear have threatened the strength of our systems. The bedrock of integrity seems to have been rejected by too many in leadership roles leading up to the crisis. That same integrity and moral sense of responsibility for people in this country and around the world has got to become the chief cornerstone. The first lesson from Exodus recounts the giving of the ten commandments and connected with this Gospel lesson serve as a wonderful reminder of exactly what that cornerstone is made up of. The very decency of humanity as encapsulated in the ten commandments and lived in the life of Jesus and given through the commandments of his teaching provide us with the compass to lead us.

One of the comments I heard about this crisis was that it might have changed the world as we know it. There is no "might" about it. The world is changed. It is not how we’ve known it. Some look back in nostalgia to the 1950's as the glory days of America and wouldn’t it be wonderful to go back to that time. For some yes, but for others, no. That decade was a tale of two cities (or two countries) in which we hear one story at the exclusion of the other.

Regardless, we cannot look back at stories trying to recapture an illusion. We have to look toward the uncertainty of the future, not in fear, but in faith. We’re programmed to fear the unknown rather than embrace the opportunities that the future has to offer. If integrity replaces greed and faith replaces fear we’ll be on our way.

We have a lot of four legged guests today to remind us of a man we commemorate today. St. Francis certainly gave a model to the world of faithful compassion. His love of God and the created world is the subject of much spiritual writing and song. His personal story inspired countless others to live simpler lives and find their joy in God’s creation. It touches us six hundred years later because deep down, and maybe not so deep down we still hope and believe that a simpler love can restore the chaotic consequences of materialistic greed and even beyond that, ambitious power to dominate people, lands and markets.

The unconditional love experienced by pet owners from their beloved pets is further witness of the possibility of a perfect world. We need to slow down and take seriously the spiritual laws handed down to us by people we honor. Moses, Jesus, Francis, and many others are honored for what they have to share and teach us. These teachings can and have to be the cornerstone of our lives if we are to make it to another generation. The world has become too small to think only of ourselves and lives too precious to be thrown away or ground down by inhuman labor practices and abusive expectation.

Our story as a people has yet to be written. Old stories can keep us grounded and it’s important to know where we’ve come from but it’s a mistake to think we can ever go back again. Like the stories of the Israelites in the desert we’ve been reading these past weeks, there is no going back and even the uncertainties of the future cannot scare us into trying. We have to go forward and rather than fear it, we have to go bravely and lovingly into it.

It’s a beautiful vineyard that God has given us, full of life and possibility. We are tenants on this fragile earth and we can be good ones. We’ve seen what the bad tenants can do, let’s show them what the good tenants can do. Amen.

© 2008 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Times Are Hard; Times Are Turbulent

By the Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

Come Holy Spirit: Touch our minds and think with them, touch our lips and speak with them and touch our hearts and set them on fire with love for you. In the name of the Living God. Amen.

To say that these are difficult times is a little oxymoronic, but the truth of the matter -- these are difficult times. Within the past week and a half, we’ve had historic financial meltdowns that have sent shock and concern across the world. As I thought about all of this nonsense this week, it reminded me somewhat of being on an airplane when it encounters dangerous and frightening turbulence. Everyone on board seems to tighten their seat belts, kicking themselves because they didn’t catch the last rolling of the beverage cart to order that bottle of anything strong, and the air is fraught with palpable anxiety. Often times, the cabin becomes eerily quiet and you’re left with your thoughts jumping all over the place. Difficult times produce many of the same feelings don’t they? Anxiety, confusion, and fear surround us like a wet blanket.

We’re flying in the midst of economic turbulence. No one knows how long the bumpy ride will last. No one really knows what the short or long term effects any bailout effort will have, but we’re all very clear that the average taxpayer will get stuck paying for Wall Street’s greed and speculation binges at some point. The consequences of short term rewards blinded most to the long term dangers that are inevitable when unbridled power and greed are at the helm. Our culture has become trapped in a false sense of values where huge profits and gain dictate what is important -- more profit and gain and less concern for the common good.

Bono, the rock star and anti-poverty activist said this week: “It’s extraordinary to me that the United States can find $700 billion [dollars] to save Wall Street and the entire G8 can’t find $25 billion [dollars] to save the 25,000 children who die every day from preventable diseases." [1]

Well, it’s extraordinary to me as well. I can’t even begin to fathom what $700 billion dollars looks like! All I can envision are brigades of cloned Treasury workers churning out palettes of money 24/7. But Bono’s point is well made. $700 billion dollars! $700 billion dollars to save the economy from the reckless mismanagement and unethical manner of business that has been pervasive for years. Jim Wallis, Editor of Sojourner’s magazine and religious political activist stated in one of his essay’s this week:

“The behavior of too many on Wall Street is a violation of biblical ethics. The teachings of Christianity, Judaism, and other faiths condemn the greed, selfishness, and cheating that have been revealed in corporate behavior over decades now, and denounce their callous mistreatment of employees. Read your Bible.” [2]

And as Jim has suggested, let’s turn to the Bible and our scripture readings for this morning.

Often, our lectionary readings tie into what is going on in the world. Sometimes, the references are clear and direct; sometimes not so clear and direct. The relationship of the readings this week to what is happening in our world is pretty interesting. Some might say that this is merely coincidental -- I tend to believe that God knows a thing or two about who we are as a people. I think that the strands of the texts that tie us into what is happening around can fall in two categories: By whose and under what authority do we live and how obedient are we to the law of love rather than the law of greed and selfishness?

So, we continue with the Israelites, moaning and groaning their way out of “the wilderness of Sin” -- what an appropriate metaphor, don’t you think? Last week the Israelites were hungry, this week they’re thirsty and they’re taking Moses to task for bringing them to that dry, barren place. Moses, tired and overwhelmed by all of the griping, looks to God and says “What shall I do with this people?” God directs Moses to take his staff -- the same staff that God gave him to part the waters for their safe exodus from Egypt -- and to go find the rock of Horeb with some of the elders, where once he strikes it, water will flow for the people. And again, as with last week’s readings, we find that God provides for his people in the most trying of circumstances. Clearly, times were rough for the Israelites and they never hesitated to make known their complaints. But what they forgot, as we often do, is they forgot who was in charge of their destiny -- their journey. They simply didn’t trust in God’s promises. But God, as is his way, responded to their needs and complaints with goodness and mercy.

Moses could have turned a stone ear to the people. He certainly had every right to resent them for their constant bickering and complaining. But instead, he placed his faith in God and sought God’s mercy and help for the people. Moses was obedient to and lived fully into the law of love -- for both his God and the people to whom God entrusted to him. He didn’t place himself above the people; he didn’t act selfishly and ignore their needs; and he didn’t just leave them to figure it out on their own. He placed the people before himself without question or hesitation. Imagine… just imagine how differently things might be today if the movers and shakers of the huge mega corporations and Wall Street operated within the context of the law of love rather than the law of greed and self interest.

As we turn to the Gospel reading, we have the chief priests and elders questioning Jesus’ authority. They were always questioning Jesus because they were always looking for opportunities to discredit him. Jesus knew this. So, Jesus decides to counter with a question of his own and makes their answer a condition for his answer. “I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” You can almost see the chief priests and elders whispering and sweating it out with one another. They knew if they stated that they accepted John’s baptism as divine, they would have to justify why they didn’t believe in John’s teachings and accept him as a prophet. They further knew that if they said that John’s baptism was of human nature, the people would respond angrily because they believed that John was a prophet of God. It was a no-win situation for them, so they decided not to answer at all. They were not willing to stand for their truth because their truth didn’t exist within the realm of God and they knew that. Their truth existed within their own selfish motives, their own desire to retain power and authority and within their own godless convictions. In order for them to answer, they would have to shatter their own self image and strip themselves of their own power. They didn’t have the wherewithal to admit the truth because the stakes were far too much for them to sacrifice.

So when they don’t provide an answer, Jesus takes it a step further and tells them the parable of the two sons. It’s a simple story that Jesus uses to illustrate the nature of God’s kingdom. Jesus, through this parable, is asking us to think about the consequences of our choices. Not just the choices and decisions that count for today or tomorrow, but those choices and decisions that count for all time. Good intentions simply are not enough. Superficial and empty promises count for absolutely nothing at all. God looks to us to have a change of heart so that our actions match our words and that ultimately we do His will and not follow our own will.

How easy it is to point our fingers at the bigwigs at the corporations and on Wall Street and the political machines that have made really bad choices and decisions that have placed us all squarely in this economic upheaval. But the truth of the matter is all of us have gone a little batty in our culture of excessive greed and materialism. We live in an economy based on consumerism which bombards us constantly with messages that we need to buy this new thing or the other. The stuff we seek and want, not need, distorts our relationship with one another and with God. We can’t ignore our own shortcomings and yes, sometimes greed and selfishness, as it relates to this so we all need to take some personal responsibility as well.

Times are hard. Times are turbulent. It’s stressful and full of uncertainty. Our faith in the ways of the world has failed us once again. And it’s exactly at times like these that we need to remind ourselves that WE are the body of Christ and WE must act like we are. We need to recommit ourselves to bringing the good news to the poor, to healing the sick, to welcoming the stranger, and feeding the hungry. We need to remind ourselves that we are called to be in relationship with one another and not materialistic stuff or money. We need to remember, that we are in relationship with a God who loves us and who provides for us and who gives us the gift of peace through His son.

We do not and should not owe any debt to anxiety or fear. Yes, times are hard. Times are turbulent. But we are reminded in the 4th chapter of Philippians: “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your request be made known to God, and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”

Amen.

[1] Bono: The American Prospect Blog, September 2008
[2] “Sackcloth and Ashes on Wall Street”: God’s Politics - a blog by Jim Wallis and friends, 9/22/08

© 2008 The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

It's Never Too Late to Heal

By the Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The Presidential campaign was put on the back burner this week as our attention was riveted to the stock market. Historic declines terrified millions and set off domino effects around the world. Attempts to bail out the major companies and hopefully the small investor and homeowners are being sought and frantically put in place with prayers for deliverance. Deliverance from what? Or whom?

Many years ago a cartoon character named Pogo made famous a saying: "We have met the enemy and he is us." It was a take off on the previously famous quote from Naval Commander Oliver Hazard Perry who after a battle in the War of 1812 said, "We have me the enemy and he is ours."

Commander Perry’s quote was the succinct report of his success against British ships in the Battle of Lake Erie, while Pogo became the voice of his cartoonist Walt Kelly in a Poster made for Earth Day in 1970 talking about preserving the environment.

In 2008, we know there’s an enemy, but it seems we don’t quite know who it is or what to do about it. It’s certainly tempting to look outside, but more often the truth lies inside. While searching for others to blame for our misfortunes we cannot overlook the probability that our own past actions have consequences coming home to roost. And just as the causes usually begin from within, so the solutions can be found from within. It starts with honesty from top to bottom and side to side. As this crisis continues the stakes are high and all the more reason to look within as well as without to find the causes and solutions.

The first lesson today is the continued story of Exodus with the children of Israel having escaped from the Egyptians and now wandering in the desert. Given this week’s activity, the desert metaphor seems entirely appropriate. In literature and story the desert is a time in between the certainty of the past and the confidence of the future. It’s a time of not knowing, a time of venturing into new territory not necessarily drawn by the promise of what lies ahead, but motivated more by the knowledge that the past was unacceptable. When the Israelites left Egypt, they had been miserable under the intolerable conditions of slavery they endured. They had to get out and they decided to follow Moses based on his assurance that God would lead them to a better place. Since they believed things couldn’t be any worse, they decided to follow him and put their trust in a God they didn’t know and a leader who had no experience. They were indeed desperate.

After the excitement of escape they face the long period in the desert of unknowing. Their faith was tested and they frequently complained. They began to wonder if they made the right decision by leaving Egypt. It was bad, but at least they had food. They discovered at each step that God provided what they needed. It was a long, difficult trip, but God did not abandon them and there were signs of hope along the way.

In the Gospel lesson, Jesus tells a parable in which the characters complain also. Those that worked all day complained that they made the same amount of money as those that had only worked one hour. Frankly, it doesn’t seem fair to me either and I would have complained myself, had I been one who had started in the early morning. That is, if the parable was about work. And that is, if the parable was about salary. It may have complaining in it, but it’s about God’s love. God’s abundant love is extended to all people regardless of when they show up. Even more than that, I believe the parable captures the joy of people who reach a point of clarity in their lives and start to live in a way that makes sense and offers wholeness.

I heard a story not too long ago told by a man about his mother who had been an active alcoholic her whole life. Somewhere in her early 80's she stopped drinking. Others hearing the story, rather insensitively asked, Why bother at that age? I heard it differently. I thought the woman was incredibly blessed to have finally found a sense of peace which had so long eluded her. Yes, it would have been wonderful had she stopped drinking decades before but what an amazing gift that she stopped at all. At the end of her day, her reward was equal to that of others who had stopped long ago. Spiritually, her gift was as priceless as that received by others.

Yesterday I attended the funeral of Walter Seward. He’s the father of our fellow member Marymae Henley. He was 111 years and 11 months old at the time of his death. The eulogies were long, they had a lot of ground to cover! The funeral was held in the chapel at Rutgers University from which Walter was graduated in 1917. We were told he was the president of the class of 1917 until he was the class of 1917. There were a lot of wonderful and poignant stories, but one of the most moving parts of the funeral for me was during the Rutgers alma mater sung by the glee club which easily had 100 young men singing. I looked around and noticed that all through out the chapel men and women of all ages were mouthing the words as the young men sang. There was a shared love of that university that has to transcend the buildings and classes. That place which watched each person transition from youth to adult, from naive freshman and wise fool sophomore to confidant senior taking a place in the world. Relationships and discoveries within their minds, hearts and spirits reverberated in that song as did the gratitude for a substance that fed them like the manna in the wilderness. The Israelites looked at this stuff that Moses called bread from heaven. It didn’t look like any bread they’d ever had, but it did the trick. Who knows what the substance is that feeds us in the institutions and societies that capture our allegiance but whatever it is works. I also belong to groups that make me sing with pride and love with people who have born the heat of different days and yet receive the same gift of a powerful knowing inside that God’s love is good, that I am loved, and I am so grateful.

Walter’s day was a long one and out of the billions of people in the world only 29 had a longer one. But according to the parable, the kingdom of heaven guarantees that 111 years or simply a day, we are loved by God with an equal and powerful love that is not earned but given.

The work in the parable is presented as a burden. It doesn’t have to be. The flight of the Israelites is presented as an escape and a time of fear. It doesn’t have to be. To be sure, there are times that are trying and fearful, but our lives can also be thrilling, adventurous and opportunities for unlocking mysteries, having fun and building relationships that make our hearts sing. When it’s like that, a long day is good to have. It’s the ones who showed up late that seemed to have missed out.

The parable means to us that it’s never to late to heal, never too late to try again, never too late to let go of something harmful and pick up something healthy. It’s never too late look for ourselves and find the best that’s inside us and never to late offer a hand to someone who’s lost. The gift of grace, the gift of love, the gift of joy is just as powerful for the late comer as it is for the early riser. We needn’t complain about that, we should be happy that another person has been surprised by joy, there’s plenty to share, there’s more than enough .there’s an infinite supply.

The ebbs and flows of our economics are often based on fear that there will not be enough, or that others will get more. There is a real world out there in which we live and work that plays by rules of fear and intimidation, greed and arrogance. But thank God there is a real world in here that sustains us with bread from heaven that heals us from within so that we can offer healing to the world without. Amen.

© 2008 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ