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