A Voice of Truth

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

John the Baptist knew how to grab his audience’s attention. "You brood of vipers, who warned you to flee the wrath to come?" This certainly isn’t the opening line of a stewardship sermon, but one has to admit that it’s an effective sound bite. It still works two thousand years later!

Last Monday during the rally for Marriage Equality in Trenton I joined several others from St. George’s and even more from the Diocese of Newark including our Bishop in support of the legislation to change the terminology of Civil Union to Marriage for same gender couples. Although I hadn’t been planning on it, I was brought in with a group of clergy around 7 pm that evening after a day of testimonies. The organizers wanted to make sure the Senators heard a balanced view from the wider church, which usually speaks out against marriage equality. So I took my turn at the microphone. Since I hadn’t been planning on speaking I hadn’t written anything down. I wonder how it would have gone over if I began my remarks with the same line that John used.

"You brood of vipers..." Like John’s audience, do you suppose they would have lined up and asked "What must we do?" I could have said, "If you voted ‘No’ in the past, vote ‘yes" now." And then those who had voted "yes" could have come forward and said, "And us, what should we do?" Sagely, I would instruct them them, that if they had voted "yes" in the past, to vote that way again and get the others to do likewise!

Meanwhile, back on Earth, I did tell them that when a couple comes to me for a marriage or Civil Union I’m aware that I’m accomplishing two things. The first is officiating over a legal contract authorized by the state. The second is that I’m blessing the commitment they make on behalf of the church. I told them further, that I really love weddings and Civil Unions and that just as I believe God is love and that the love of any couple reflects that, I bless each one equally in the name of God and for the community of faithful. I do my part on behalf of the church and I urge them to do their part on behalf of the state and guarantee that each couple is married equally. I’ve spoken before many church and religious bodies, but this was a first for me in speaking before a group of elected officials who have a far reaching authority. My knees were knocking but my voice was clear!

I do get charged up by the blatant and stubborn hypocrisy of those who think separate and equal actually works. Even the critters on Animal Farm know when some are more equal than others. I can understand and identify with the passion of John the Baptist shouting to those gathered at the Jordan River, You brood of vipers! And although I know it would have done little to nothing to serve my cause, it would have felt really good to do so.

One of the beauties of the Bible is that is speaks the language of the heart without having to temper it to subtle or political realities. John is a figure that embodies passionate and urgent zeal in matters of the soul. He cuts through pretense and says what many of us wish we could say in the different worlds in which we live. When we struggle with issues of justice, fairness or even excitement we’re often hobbled by restraint when we really want to shout out true feelings and beliefs. We want to be heard in the unvarnished truth of our convictions.

John is portrayed in scripture and art as a wildly dressed character in the wild terrain by the Jordan River. It should be remembered that he was the son of Elizabeth and Zechariah who were well placed in society. Zechariah was a high priest and that came with social position. Young John would have been brought up as a civilized young man. But what a wonderful depiction of someone swept up in the passion of their beliefs. There is an attractive wildness of a person of conviction who has found their voice and speaks their truth.

People gather and want to hear it. Even those who don’t necessarily believe it are drawn to the oratory. When John preached repentance the most unlikely people came out to listen. Tax collectors and soldiers. These are people feared and hated by most others because of the authority they had and the corrupt ways in which they lived which hurt innocent people. Yet they too came to John and asked "What must we do?" To the innocent bystander the answer seemed rather obvious. "Don’t hurt us, don’t steal from us, don’t terrorize us."

But ironically, the questions means that in this case the soldiers and tax collectors had lost their own moral compass to where even those easy answers were not visible.

All of us can get so carried away in our everyday lives, and all too often, drift in the moorings of authenticity and integrity that we lose sight of what is right. I believe that at heart each of us wants to be righteous and in a world that seems to be ambiguous with many shades of gray, it’s often difficult to find the right path. Sometimes, though it’s very plain, just difficult to do. Hearing a voice of truth cutting through the noise and urging us to do the right things is compelling, even when it might difficult to do them.

Equally important is finding our voice and tapping into the passion and conviction to risk going out of our comfort zone; to risk the negative reaction of others, if that happens, but to go out on a limb for what we believe.

This third Sunday of Advent has a special name and it’s related to why we light the rose colored candle. In Latin, the name of this week is Gaudate. The season of Advent was originally somber and penitential. It’s lost some of that quality in the midst of Christmas parties and shopping, but it was even referred to once and a Little Lent. Taken in that light, this week was set aside as one to be joyful in the midst of all the solemnity; a way of saying, "We’re almost there!"

Our reading from St. Paul’s epistle to the Philippians says "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice." Our passions generally flow from a truth deep within us that is related to our faith. It might be an articulated faith in God, but just as easily it might be an unarticulated faith in our deepest beliefs about justice and fairness. Whether the cause is marriage Equality, homelessness, hunger, or peace; perhaps art or music, passions tap into a deep sense of who we are and what gives us life. It’s in that place where we meet God the most. Advent is a time to give voice to our passions that prepare a way for God to live in us and inspire us to grow and expand beyond our comfort zones and break the boxes previously lived in.

Some people at the Jordan thought that John might be the Messiah, but he dissuaded that talk and said that he baptized with water, but hat one would come later who was more powerful, and who would baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire.

When we’re in touch with our passions, they burn inside us and give voice to our deepest selves. I know from personal experience that the deepest self is the most difficult to let out because it is the one most vulnerable. A comment that is heard so often is, "if they saw the real me, they wouldn’t like me." That’s fear speaking. It’s the deepest selves and most fiercely felt passions that make us our most interesting and compelling people.

John encourages us and Jesus lights the fire that makes justice and mercy burn within us. Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice. Let your gentleness be know to everyone. The Lord is near. And the peace of God which passes all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

©2009 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

"Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low"

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

In the Gospel this morning we read that John the Baptist began his ministry of repentance in the region of Galilee. Those who heard of him recalled the writings of the Prophet Isaiah who spoke of a messenger crying in the wilderness to prepare the way of the Lord. To make the crooked ways straight and have the mountains and hills be made low. That all flesh shall see the salvation of God.

It was a wonderful prophecy and what excitement John must have generated to be associated with it. The place of this story in the Advent season is important since in the Gospels Jesus hadn’t yet made his appearance. The people were still waiting and hoping. John’s refreshing ministry was a sign to the faithful that something was about to happen. Some thought that John was the one they’re waiting for, but John discouraged that belief and pointed to one who was to come later. In the meantime, John preached repentance.

"Repentance" is a word that for me conjures up dire warnings of the end of world. Comic book characters wearing sandwich boards to induce groveling remorse for past ill deeds. As dramatically attractive as that can be, that’s not it’s real meaning. It literally means "to turn around." It means to change direction to one that is more positive and healthy. Such a change implies the recognition that the direction one was heading in was a mistake, but it means that the correction can be made and the new direction found. Repentance and the forgiveness of sins. That was John’s message as they waited for Jesus. One of the ways we know we might be traveling down the wrong road is that people get hurt by us. Part of turning around is to see where injury has been caused by us and seek forgiveness.

Last year at the Diocesan convention I saw a woman from one of my former parishes who was also a delegate. We had seen each other several times since my return to this Diocese, and our contact was characterized by the kind of formal courtesy reserved for people who are trying to make the best of running into someone they would rather not have run into. And the fault was mine.

An action I took as curate some twenty five years ago hurt her more deeply than I realized. For many years I wasn’t even aware of it. But once I became aware it, it was too embarrassing to confront, especially since so much time had passed and I wasn't even in the state any more. Coming to Maplewood and returning to this Diocese it was only a matter of time since we crossed paths and we did. At our last convention, when I saw her, I thought to myself that this has gone on long enough.

She agreed when I asked if I could talk to her and I told her I owed her a long overdue apology. The passage of twenty five years seemed to evaporate when talking about the incident. We discussed it, I offered an apology which she accepted. We had both made a mountain smooth and watched the elephant that stood between us leave the room. There is now warmth when we meet. And I wonder what took me so long.

The love of God enters when we make room. In the meantime, as I certainly discovered, ego and pride make mountains and valleys that are hard to negotiate. No matter how we may try not to make mistakes, it is impossible, the work is then to recognize where we have left the path of integrity and faithful relationship and try to get back on it. That’s repentance. And doing the work often takes asking forgiveness from someone.

A time honored phrase in the United States system of government is "separation of Church and State." Despite that description, they seem to bump into each other a lot!

Our Episcopal Church is dealing with an issue active in national and state politics as well. Namely gay and lesbian rights. New Jersey has a vote coming up this week whether or not to change the existing Civil Union terminology to Marriage as the legal status between same gender couples. We have many gay and lesbian couples in this parish for whom this is particularly important, and some of us who still have our Hope Chests packed! One of the hopes in that chest is that the term "marriage" will be available in that golden someday! We have a representative from the Garden State Equality group here today to discuss the issue more fully after the service. But suffice it to say the divisions in the church and state over this issue are as perplexing as they heart breaking. Equality is not a gift one group bestows upon another. It is a right that all share and should not be bartered, ignored, or blocked.

While we face the issue of marriage equality in this country, across the globe Uganda is putting forward legislation to make homosexuality a crime punishable by both imprisonment and execution. The mountainous level of cruelty and absurdity defies description. Even advocates for the rights of those so treated would be liable for prosecution. Recent atrocities of ethnic cleansing as well as the Holocaust stand as horrific witnesses of the ability of nations to distract the public from the substantial issues of poverty, hunger, homelessness, illiteracy, the abuse of women and children, political corruption and irresponsibility - and focus it on who is loving who as though it’s a crime.

From criminalizing homosexuality to denying human rights like marriage, the international community has made mountains out of mole hills. John the Baptist calls us to repent and take those mountains, and put them back into mole hills so that all people shall see the salvation of our God.

Yesterday morning the state of California made the news again. Rather, the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles. For the first time since the National Church lifted the moratorium on electing openly gay Bishops, a partnered Lesbian named Mary Glasspool was elected Bishop Suffragan. The mountains are going to shake.

Progress doesn’t come easily. History has shown time and again it comes in fits and starts and painfully. The scriptures often refer to progress arriving like a woman in the travail of childbirth. But in both cases, once it starts, there’s no going back!

Advent is a season of waiting. It’s a reminder that the love of God comes in wonderful ways and always in unexpected ways. There are so many issues that press upon us. National and international struggles, local and family struggles and challenges. We all have changes to make, obstacles to those changes, and yet the promise of grace as we work through them.

It does seem like a wilderness at times in which we have lost our way. The direction doesn’t always seem clear and we don’t always know when we’re right or wrong. The words of Isaiah and John the Baptist are comforting in that they say there is a voice in the wilderness to guide us. It says Prepare the way of the Lord. The way is prepared with love. The road is paved with justice. And we will eventually all see the salvation of our God, and discover that it’s been here all the time, because that’s what gives us the courage to fill the valleys and make the mountains low. Amen.

©2009 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

An Advent People

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The Gospel lesson presents strange and disturbing images. Jesus mentions "signs in the sun, moon and stars, distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and waves. People fainting from fear and foreboding, the powers of the heavens shaken.

This reading is in the "apocalyptic style" and describes the end of the world in a language of images and in a literary genre common to that era. The style describes a world turned upside down, a world in pain, confusion and turmoil. A world marked by violence. A world looking for God.

It’s not such an unusual genre. One of the current box office hits is a movie called 2012, about the end of the world as foretold in an ancient Mayan prophecy. Unlike our scriptures, the Mayans apparently are quite explicit about the date the world will end, and apparently for two and a half hours the characters arrange deck chairs on the global Titanic.

People of all generations and cultures have predicted the end of the world in the languages of their religions and sciences. And after a while I begin to wonder if it’s fear of this possibility or a sad hope. Sometimes what we say we fear the most is a veiled way of expressing what we really hope for.

Apocalyptic stories in the scriptures are accompanied by warnings or predictions of wars, famines and large scale suffering. Truthfully, the world has never been without these things. The level of suffering is so great and the solutions seem so colossal and out of reach that in frustration, the only option may seem for God to destroy the world and start again. That’s the basic story line of Noah’s Ark and the apocalyptic stories are offshoots of that one.

But not all of the stories end in total destruction. Some of the stories offer hope and redemption. In our first lesson, Jeremiah wrote of hope. Jeremiah was a prophet who wrote during a period of Israel’s history in which the leading citizens of the country had been captured by the Babylonians and led away to be relocated hundreds of miles away leaving Jerusalem in a heap of ruin. Jeremiah watched the world he knew reduced to rubble in Apocalyptic proportion and still he wrote faithfully in the promise of God to restore them. He began to write of the rise of a messiah, another king in the line of David who would emerge and lead them in a new age of righteousness and justice. This messiah became the hope of a nation and each generation looked for him to be revealed.

When Jesus came, those who met him were uncertain at first. Some came to believe, others didn’t. He didn’t act the way they were taught to expect. He didn’t raise an army or overthrow the occupying forces. Rather, he talked of love and forgiveness, not war or vengeance. It’s not what they expected, but it was compelling never the less. Many followed and their world was also turned upside down when he was crucified. And like the prophets of old he pointed to the future when another would come. But unlike the prophets before him, he told them it would be he who would return.

The world has spun up and down ever since. Each generation watching the world it knew change, totter, fall, and from its ashes another rise. So many of these generations remember the words of Jesus saying to look at the clouds for his return. Christians today also look to the sky for Jesus to return, but in ways we don’t agree on. In our Creed we say we believe he will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead and his kingdom will have no end. This belief places us in the category of an Advent people. A people of expectation. We are marked as followers of Christ who believe that though the earth and it’s powers rise and fall, God is constant and comes to restore God’s people.

We sometimes fall into the same trap that some biblical characters fell into. We allow our expectations and hope determine how we believe God will appear. In so doing, we run the risk of missing God altogether.

The season of Advent serves as a reminder that God came to earth in the person of Jesus; that God has come and that God will come again and again and again to save us from ourselves, for the sole reason of love. The prophets and writers continually draw our attention to this hope. We turn to our traditions for inspiration and grounding as we live in a world that changes and challenges us.

Hope is fragile in the wake of economic crisis, and war, and senseless cruelty. Our literature and entertainment options often suggest blowing it all up, as though expressing the common frustration of a weary public. But among the voices in the Bible expressing hope, Jesus suggests looking at the fig tree and draws a lesson of hope in it. Whether the fig tree or any tree, we see the buds and know that summer is near.

Whenever we give food to the hungry, or offer shelter to the homeless, or march and stand up for justice and the intrinsic value of God’s people we are seeing the buds on a tree of life that makes the promise of God closer.

It’s not the world we need to destroy, but the evil in it. The world is an incredibly beautiful place and so many people are truly wonderful and loving. God so loved the world that he became human to show us the way of grace and love. It’s very simple. It’s not always easy, but it starts with us living lives that reflect God’s love and hope.

Jesus told his disciples another curious thing. He said, "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away." The words he embodied were love, justice and peace. Regardless of what else happens, these words remain and remain true. As people of Advent the truth of these words in the past, helps us be open to their truth in the future.

May our worship and prayers make us strong to face the challenges of hope. May the armor of light St. Paul talks about and which we used in our opening collect shield us from the frustrations of the worlds’ pain and inspire us to be healers. And even in the worst of life’s events may we see the hopeful buds of God’s grace creating new life and possibilities. Amen.

©2009 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

What's in a Name?

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Juliet, under the prompting of William Shakespeare, asked "What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." And perhaps it would, but she was to discover that names are indeed very important. Names are essential for communication and understanding. They evoke emotional responses. Perhaps joy and anticipation. Perhaps warning or fear. Perhaps anger.

Children call out that "sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never harm me". Again, that may be true in a physical sense, but it’s more complicated than that as the children get older.

In the Bible names are very important. From the beginning with creation, the naming of the animals and even of people is a thoughtful process full of significance. If there is a name used in the Bible, you can believe it’s not used casually. And it needs to be looked at.

In the first lesson God sends the prophet Elijah to Zarephath, which belongs to Sidon." Does that raise any red flags for you? Well, it certainly would have for the writer and first readers of these scriptures. The Israelites hated Sidon, and all of its parts including Zarephath. Sidon had been a powerful state near the Mediterranean Sea in what is now southern Lebanon and had controlled Israel for a while. The Hebrew scriptures have many nasty references to Sidon with heartfelt pleas for God to destroy it. King Solomon had married a Sidonian princess in an attempt to make a treaty and that backfired, spiritually speaking when she brought her gods and upset the religious practices of the courts. Sidon was also the home of such villainous luminaries as the legendary Jezebel who married King Ahab many generations later and created havoc in her own right.

So it would have been quite shocking to hear that God sends Elijah there on a mission of mercy. Not only the enemy state, but to a widow of all people and her son who might, for all they know, turn into a soldier who might attack them some day. Elijah saved them from starvation.

Quite shocking indeed.

Widows and foreigners, especially hated foreigners, play a large role in the teaching of the scriptures since they are socially the least of the least. The were considered beneath contempt, and yet the point is that in God’s love they are seen, heard, and provided for. They are loved and valued. So, of course, Elijah would be sent to her because she was in need. The widow in the Gospel story is also an important figure because of the teaching of her gift to the poor. None were poorer than she, and yet she gave to help others. These women, whom scripture doesn’t even name, are known to God and to us so many millennia later.

It’s no accident that these stories of giving are in the Lectionary around the time that most churches are engaged in their stewardship programs. Like the stories we’ve been hearing from parishioners, these stories can be helpful in giving us some inspiration to pray about our own giving in general and our pledge to St. George’s in particular. Each of the stories has been personal and unique. Each person who has told their story expressed some powerful feelings after sharing. It reminds me that we don’t often get the opportunity to tell our stories to each other. We get busy with committee work or other business and overlook the deeper conversations untold. Sometimes the action of putting our lives in a brief outline and articulating our values, needs and hopes crystallizes it in our own minds as well as offering inspiration to others.

And at its core, that’s what giving is all about. Sharing ourselves as a way of growing. As a way of stretching and discovering parts of ourselves even as we share it with others. Personally, when my sermons include deeper stories from my past I get deeper feedback from people who identify. I have to tell you, it’s not easy to reveal some of the stories and truths, especially the painful ones or those that highlight my foolishness. Still, they seem to get the deepest resonance and not surprisingly since we all share core vulnerabilities as well as strengths. I have to admit that when I share even the most painful stories from this pulpit or in other forums that I felt stronger and a sense of healing. It’s a gift to be able to share personal stories because of the growth it offers. It’s also a gift to be able to give of our time, talent and treasure for the same reasons.

Most of us experience fears and insecurities about all sorts of things. We want to put up shields and pull in, especially at times of scarcity or uncertainty. We all do this to some degree. And yet we do so at our own peril. Fear and insecurity might cut us off from the people and activities that we enjoy and that keep us alive in our most basic sense. We might be afraid that what little we have will be taken away.

The scriptures don’t tell us how these widows fared after the stories we read took place. I would like to believe that they were all right. But the lessons they teach us is that if anyone had reason to pull in and hold tight to what they had, it was them. Ye they gave because in doing so, they lived.

For those of you who are members of St. George’s and who are prepared to pledge today, you may have brought the pledge card that was sent in the mail to you. If not, there are pledge cards on the pews and in stacks by the doors. We hope you’ll be ready to place them in the offering plate when it comes by later on, or mail it in when you can.

Part of membership is the support of the ministry of the church and that includes the finances. Yet, it also needs to be stated clearly that the pledge should be realistic and given with confidence and faith. If circumstances change during the year, the pledge can be modified up or down as you direct.

There is a spirituality to giving that is very important. God works through us to accomplish great things, even if they appear small. But in order to do that, we need to make ourselves available to God through the actions of giving. It calls for risk and vulnerability. And through it we discover the strength and joy we never thought possible.

One of the gifts being given today is a tricycle. It is a bitter, sweet gift. Given in memory of Gabriel Batista who died at age two almost a year ago, this tricycle will be blessed and donated by his parents Suzette and Miguel and his grandmother Yolanda to the family shelter in Irvington called Turning Point Community Services. Deacon Chris McCloud is the Director of the shelter and some of our members sit on the board. This gift will go to a child at the shelter.

Grief can do many things to us. At its worst, it can make us withdraw from life and shut out any rays of sunlight or joy. Or grief might lead us to offer ourselves to God’s service in helping others who struggle with similar challenges. Miguel and Suzette met several families at the hospital during Gabriel’s illness and even through their grief have continued to minister to those families with support and prayers.

The work of the church is to provide a place of hope and healing as well as be a center of pray and worship. We take God’s call seriously to minister to everyone who comes to us and to those God sends us to in strange and beautiful ways.

I was once asked to visit an elderly Jewish man in his last days. When I arrived in my collar he looked up at me with an expression of surprise and said sardonically, "What are YOU doing here?" And I said, "I don’t know, but since I’m here, how about we talk." And we had a good talk that day about the journey he was about to take.

We cannot know what is in store for us each day, but we need to be engaged in life in all its aspects to live into the gift of life that God has given us and to be of service to others. Sometimes it easier than others and sometimes we just need to get through to the next day and hope it’s better. But in all things God is near and calling us to move forward. Forward in love, forward in healing, forward in grace. Amen.

©2009 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

All Saints Sunday

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

As the familiar strains of "For All the Saints..." still hang in the air I want to welcome all the saints here today. For those of you who are visiting, a special welcome and invitation to join with us on the flip side of the Halloween coin. There are many stories of the origin of Halloween, but the fact that there are so many means its true origin lies in the obscure past. Most cultures have a celebration of the dead as a way of keeping the restless spirits away and there is something very primal about these celebrations that still move us even today.

The Christian Church tried to divert attention from these Pagan celebrations by placing feasts celebrating All Saints, who are equally as dead, but not malevolent. The Saints we celebrate today lived lives to inspire us in our faith and serve as examples to embrace rather than restless spirits to avoid and fear.

What has emerged over the centuries is a hybrid of celebration which acknowledges the darkness and light of how we approach death. It embraces the fear and hope with which all of us, at one time or another, experience when we mourn the death of a loved one or contemplate our own mortality.

The original purpose of costumes and noises were to scare the spirits away, though I must confess, I’m not sure the abundance of Princess and super hero outfits would have done the trick. Nor the baby dressed up as a strawberry. Maybe instead of scaring the restless spirits, they’ll melt their ghostie hearts and give them rest.

In any event, today is a major holiday in the church’s calendar to celebrate Saints past and present. It’s a day to embrace the lives of those who have served God faithfully and inspire us to do the same. It’s a day also to celebrate the living saints, all of us, and encourage us in our daily lives to strive toward the ideals we set in our lives of faith.

Today is also a day in which we Baptize and welcome three babies into the faith and fellowship of the Christian church, and a day those of us who are already baptized will renew our own baptismal vows.

The Gospel story we read today was the telling of the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. This story has elements of the Halloween costumes - where Lazarus emerges like a mummy from the tomb dressed in strips of cloth - and the joy of new life when those strips of cloth are taken away. The famous verse "Jesus wept" (expanded a little in this translation) shows the pain of loss, and sympathy for the pain of those who mourned for Lazarus. Shortly after, all grief is passed and the firm words of "Lazarus, come out!" and "Unbind him, and let him go." become words that triumph over the sadness.

God is the creator of life and the promise of the faith that we share and pass on to these babies and each other is that even in the deepest pit of grief, God will come and bring us into new life. Fear often binds us, and keeps us from living fully and loving fully. Jesus’ words, "Unbind him..." have particular meaning to those who get lost in grief. Just as the dead are unbound and transformed into new life, so too can those who grieve be unbound and transformed into new life.

At first I thought this was a rather gloomy choice for a lesson today. But the more I worked with it, the more I liked it. Especially for these babies. I think the words of Jesus can be expanded beyond the grief over one person, to the many ways we grieve in our lives, the ways we are bound, and the many ways we are transformed. Each time we experience a change, it’s like a small death has occurred. Changing jobs, changing homes, changing family structures - even changing ideas or ways of thinking. We often enter change fearfully, perhaps with tears, and misgiving. We grieve the old patterns and ways, and the uncertainty of the future can bind us and hinder us from moving forward. There is no doubt that sometimes change is painful, but it more often than not opens up to new life and new ways of thinking and living.

These days we’re living in are filled with changes that are definitely frightening and we do grieve the former days that now seem a lot more carefree. And we don’t know what tomorrow or the next day will bring. Fearfully we might wonder if it will bring more bad news. Faith gives us the strength to address change boldly and look for the growth that will occur if we look for it. God, the creator of life, creates new life in all situations.

These babies were born on the threshold of a changing world. Our global relationships are being tested and painfully restructured. The financial crisis can lend to better ways of doing business in a modern world. The rights of women, so long abused and denied around the world as well as in the US are being scrutinized and those abuses are being challenged. Race relations are entering vastly new territory with the election of President Obama, and the rights of gay men and lesbians are being addressed loudly. For each change, someone will cry "progress" and someone else will cry "disaster." But the faith of the saints who entered into the struggles of their day testify to the truth of God’s love and the perseverance of justice and wisdom. The words of Dr. King’s prose are especially pertinent when he said that "the arc of a moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice".

While some fear that life is ending, others proclaim that it is being transformed. The world is strong enough for justice. These babies will be part of that world transformed and their baptism signals that they will be raised with Christian teaching of love, inclusion, and justice. I also believe that just as the world is being transformed, the church is also. Too long has the church been bound by fear of change which has led it to be judgmental and hurtful. The pain it has caused lives side by side with the glory it has radiated, like the nights of Halloween and the sunny days of All Saints. But that is changing too. And I hope these babies will be part of it. The teachings and healing of Jesus cannot be eclipsed by the shortcomings of the church as a human institution. We need to be unbound by the fear of the unknown future and grief over the nostalgic past. Our faith in God can lead us to embrace the transforming power of God’s love in this world. So, when we are bound, listen for the voice of Jesus crying loudly, "Come out!... be unbound and go!" Parents and godparents of Ava, Gian Carlo, and Lucy; when their fears threaten to paralyze or bind them in their struggles and challenges, in the name and love of God, unbind them and let them go. We’ll help. Amen.

©2009 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Healing of Bart

By The Rev. Diane Riley

I am delighted to be here today and I want to thank Rev. Poppe and Martha Gardner for allowing me to come and preach and participate in a forum where I can share my work with you. I work for The Apostles House in Newark. This is a familiar entity no doubt to many of you especially long time members as St. Georges’. Twenty five years ago St. Georges in collaboration with four other churches was founded the Apostles’ House family shelter. Today we have many programs that serve the poor in Essex beyond the shelter, there is transition housing, continuum of care services for those moving on to independent living, a home for teenage mothers and their children where they can continue to go to school and learn how to raise strong children even as they are moving out of their own childhood. And of course our Food Pantry. I work program within our food pantry in an educational program that allows me to visit communities to raise the awareness of one of the most basic problems we encounter, the problem of hunger. We have one of the largest if not the largest food pantry in Essex. We served over 10,000 people last year. As you might guess the problem of hunger has been exacerbated by the economic crisis. We are very near to serving 10,000 people as of the end September and traditionally the last quarter of the year is when we serve the most people (almost 50% of those we served last year, were served in the fall). So thank you for all you have done and thank you for all you continue to do to help. You are our partners. Today as you walk you not only raise money for the hunger but you stand in solidarity and witness to those that are not always seen and helping others to “see” the problem of hunger. The work I do also allows me to help people “see” the not only the demand but to raise the awareness of the big picture and the actions that we can take to get at the root causes of hunger so that we can get to the point where we end the problem of food insecurity. A time when emergency food providers like our pantry will truly be called on only in cases of emergency and not as a way of life. So if you can’t be here for the seminar than please stop by and allow me to give you some info to take with you.

I am a vocational Deacon in this diocese. St. Georges’ has been blessed with several Deacons as part of your worshiping community, Kathleen Ballard and most recently Chris McCloud. And so you know that we are ordained to the ministry of service. Our ministry is first and foremost to model an active care ministry. Care of individuals as in pastoral care and also care of the community through social ministry. All of the deacons in this diocese are very different. You can see that in their day jobs. Some are nurses, chaplains, managers of social service organizations, teachers, or anti-hunger advocates. Having said that the heart of our ministry is the same. We all see the world in through the same lens – we see the world through the lens of vulnerable people. Sometimes those people are what the gospel calls “the least of these” and their needs are easy to spot – the hungry, or those that need shelter or those that are sick. Sometimes their needs are not so easy to see, like their sense of isolation from others in their community, or maybe just their sense of isolation from God. Perhaps loneliness is the most common unmet need. Our sense of separation is the most common denominator for all God’s people. Here is where it comes together for me. “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me... “We participate in our own reconciliation, in mending our own relationship, traveling that distance to God when we take the “risk” of a relationship with the least of these... So there really is mutuality about serving that I want to talk to you about today. I may be meeting their needs but they are also meeting my needs. It’s a connection. In the entirety of the Bible we hear in people’s experience of God that God wants only for his people to be connected to each other; to care for each other and to find God in those caring connections.

That is not always easy even for Deacons. I’ll start with a confession. Every week on the way to work, I drive on 280 and get off of exit 15 in Newark and always I get stuck at the light at the bottom of the ramp. It a long light it turns onto Rt. 21 which is a very busy road. Sometimes I am get stopped almost making it to the turn and so I am first waiting for the light to change, and so often I am the second or third car up that ramp. Usually at this time a person appears, seemingly out of nowhere. A beggar someone who is looking for change and comes up to my window. Here comes the confession. If I am three cars back I have time to pray before they come up to the window. I pray not that we can deliver the people who live in poverty from poverty, not that maybe this person who may have a drug problem or other problems that are barriers to them becoming whole can get the help they need. No I pray that the light will change before they reach my car. I just can’t deal with it that early in the morning. I get angry that I have to. I get angry at them for not fixing their problems. I get angry at society for not helping to fix their problems. Most times when they do manage to reach me and I can’t avoid it I reach down in my purse and give them some money. I don’t always look in their eyes. This act doesn’t alleviate my anger. I still feel angry because no matter how much I work at alleviating the problem of poverty it assaults me and I feel like a failure. And then when the light changes and I am safely away from the confrontation. I feel ashamed and I begin to feel guilty at myself for having all those feelings.

As I pull into the parking lot and I finish my journey to work I say a different prayer, “Jesus, Son of God have mercy on me a sinner.” This prayer, “the Jesus prayer” or the “prayer of the heart” is not new it has been used for centuries by Christian communities as a first step. It is the simplest most desperate prayer when you are at the end of your rope -- a surrender prayer. It’s a prayer where I acknowledge this “true confession” to myself and then offer it up to God. In those moments I recognize that I have a way to go to be a follower of Jesus but … that I have take a step toward getting there.

Today’s Gospel gives us that prayer as part of the story. It is the last healing story in the Gospel of Mark. The last public healing, after this story Jesus moves on to Jerusalem and toward the cross. This in effect is the last statement given by our Gospel writer about Jesus ministry and so it is really a statement about what his ministry means. It is also the culmination of the stories about discipleship and what it means to be follower. Jesus is traveling and blind beggar named Bartimaeus (son of Timaeus) is on the side of the road begging. The name has meaning, Bart-teymeh means “son of poverty” in Aramaic. This man immediately shouts to Jesus “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!” People around Jesus, you know his entourage tell him to stop and be quiet but he shouted even louder. “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stops and stands still and he tells them to call him over. And they turn towards him and say “Take heart, get up, he is calling you”. I love that. Take heart, get up, he is calling you. That’s the line that stops me in this story. All a long I have been somehow not identifying with the son of poverty the blind beggar because I am not poor and I can see. But when I hear that line, I identify with poor Bart. Even my name for him in my mind changes to a nickname of a friend a kindred spirit. I want to desperately to be in his shoes. I want to hear someone say to me, “take heart, get up, Jesus is calling you”. Me personally, someone who can’t bear to look at the beggar outside my car window. Jesus have mercy on me, a sinner. If we can agree that sin really anything that gets in the way of me relationship with God. I can say my sin is one of surrendering to hopelessness and letting fear and apathy creep into my heart. In those moments when I stare straight ahead I have clearly turned away. I don’t have the courage to turn towards that beggar. Who is not Bart at all but a disciple telling me that Jesus is calling. I don’t have the courage to believe we are deeply connected and to stop thinking of it as his problem, or society’s problem, and not my problem, our problem. To turn towards the relationship that Christ offers and affirms, I am a sinner, known and still deeply loved. Mark starts out his Gospel with the words, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God”. And ends his teachings by telling us to “Take heart, get up, Jesus is calling you”. If God knows all this about me and still calls. That is good news.

Truth is we need help in believing in this News. All are worthy and we are all responsible but that there is joy waiting in this connectedness and responsibility. What do I want? I want what Bart has. I want to feel what Bart feels. I want to throw off whatever I need to throw off (my pride, my money, by cloak or whatever keeps me from) feeling that deep sense of acceptance that knowledge of being known and loved and jump up with the enthusiasm and energy. The energy that has him leaping to his feet with, joy just at the invitation. When asked, “Diane what do you want me to do for you?” I want to answer to clearly and firmly. “I want to see again”. Lord, help me to see the truth again. Help me to believe in that reality. Heal me so that I can “see” that. Truth be told we need serve not just as duty because the Bible tells us to help the poor, we need the connection to the “least of these” to address our own deep need for connection with God. They help us understand what we cannot see.

Nora Gallagher is a writer and a reporter and she wrote a book that chronicles part of her journey of faith through a year seen through her eyes in the life of her Episcopal parish in California. She talks about the ordinary days within the entire year and her connections with people there and her work in the soup kitchen. “Things blind us, crowd our vision… In our midst is a man without a blanket and shoes too large for his feet. We have organized our lives so that he is hidden from us. He lives, like God in invisibility. But when we do see him, I think tonight, we keep a rendezvous. In the seeing is a glimpse, a foretaste of the kingdom: it will be a place where everyone is seen, including us. Here we are together in Ordinary time, learning how to see.”

I have not met a person who volunteers in a pantry, soup kitchen or any outreach effort that actually meets and talks to a people they serve that does not come away changed. Amazed by their stories, amazed by their hospitality, and more often than not amazed by their faith and belief in the hopefulness of the world and the unfailing love of God.

Jesus ends his public ministry to us today with one more story about a marginalized person. Someone who is poor and outcast. Like all the others it is easy for us to see that he needs help. Like all the others Jesus reminds us that he is the “first” to get that. Because he is vulnerable he has no illusions about it. We are reminded one final time that though we are “last” to get this the invitation is still open. He calls us not son or daughter of poverty. He calls us, child of God. So take heart, get up, have courage to turn towards that persistent knocking on your window and follow.

©2009 The Rev. Diane Riley

Salted with Fire

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

For those of you who scratched you head at the Gospel phrase "salted with fire..." you are not alone. No one knows what that means, not even the commentaries. There are plenty of suggested meanings, but none that are definitive. And I like that.

It means we have to wrestle with it and not be biased or intimidated by experts. It also means that a definition we come up with today may be subject to change over time and that’s OK too. For faith to be lively, it needs to be wrestled with and not put in a pigeon hole and locked up tight.

Regarding the Gospel lesson, it seems that Mark had some "salt" sayings in his catalogue of Jesus quotes, and decided to lump them together, apparently without any real connective tissue. One of the traps we fall into is in hearing something read that makes no sense to us, but it’s read with such feeling that we nod appreciatively assuming that the reader, at least, knows what he or she is talking about. And if they do, then we should, and the best way to mask our confusion is to nod in agreement.

Don’t fall into that trap. If something regarding faith doesn’t make sense to you, don’t pretend it does. Ask a question. And a tip I"ll give you is this: Don’t ask someone what a Bible verse or topic means. Ask someone, what it means -- to them. No one, has the definitive answers in matters of faith. That’s what makes it faith. That’s the good part, and the tough part. Our faith requires work and the conviction to take it on. Spiritual matters are important and they are personal. Yet they most often get lived out in some form of community. Since there is generally no one "right" answer, there’s room for many approaches, and we don’t have to compete or fight to prove the legitimacy of our own. They already are legitimate and of value.

It’s important to note that during Baptisms. We’re welcoming four new persons into a community of faith that wrestles with questions and cares about the responses. What do you think of the Bible, its passages and interpretations? What do you think is the impact of scripture on contemporary issues and your own behavior? How is your spirituality formed and informed daily or weekly, or over the years? I have opinions and experiences that I share and mean a lot to me, but in no way will I claim to have the ultimate answers on any given topic. No one here would let me get away with it even if I said I did.! And that’s precisely one of the things I love about this community.

We discuss, question, listen, clarify and eat. Faith is living in the grey area of uncertainty, but with a passionate desire to learn more and grow. One of the favorite sayings of a seminary professor was, "May your reach always exceed your grasp." Never stop seeking, always go for what is just beyond you as a way of moving you forward.

The best of what we can offer these four babies is guidance and inspiration as they begin their journey into relationship with God. To motivate and model the faithful life of a Christian who has found in Jesus the way, the truth and the life. Even when we can’t grasp the Gospel fully, we can grasp the love of God which takes hold of us through its pages. We are followers of Jesus’ teaching, we participate in the sacraments he established and share in the legacy of his followers that have continued ever since. We believe in the Spirit of God that is active in the world today and remain open to its continued revelation. And this relationship we have with God inspires us to be active in helping other people.

The images in the phrase "salted with fire" bring to my mind the work of preservation that salt does and the cleaning out that fire can do or the burning zeal of inquiry and commitment. A better editor might have connected those themes better. But on the other hand it’s a phrase that rolls off the tongue and has gotten more attention than a better phrase might have done. When I was in College a music professor from Germany quoted an English colloquialism and told us, "I don’t know what it means, but I like it." I feel the same way about being salted with fire. I don’t know what it means but I like it. And it does mean something to me about passion for the Gospel and being strengthened and preserved in living it out.

The lessons this morning talk about helping others. Queen Esther petitions the king to help her people in the face of persecution. James talks about helping people through healing prayer. And Jesus talks about taking care of the little ones, the most vulnerable in our lives. As Deacon Chris pointed out last week, children in Jesus’ time were not valued much until they were useful in battle or at work in the fields or some other way. For him to single out children and forcefully defend their dignity is striking. To attach teachings on avoiding sin in this context is also striking to the reader. The danger of sin, the danger of losing our way and hurting people instead of helping them is serious. Serious enough to talk in the strongest language. If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off; your foot, cut it off; your eye, pluck it out.

All this points to making significant changes in how we live in order to avoid the destruction we can otherwise find. When I talk to youth in the drug and alcohol rehabilitation center I visit monthly one of the topics of conversations revolves around the phrase "People, places and things." This refers to changes they’ll need to make in their lives if they’re to have any hope to stay sober. There are people that will be dangerous for them to continue associating with -- maybe even family members or people they thought of as their best friends. Too many of them get back into drugs at the suggestion or prompting of a family member or friend. Until they’re strong enough, they need to separate themselves from these people as painful as it might be. Like the Gospel lesson of cutting a hand off or losing an eye.

For these youth, the same is true about places they used to go, or things they used to value. Old habits are hard to break and it’s often like cutting off a limb to change them. But in order to have a better shot at life, such changes are necessary.

Jesus spoke in extreme ways to get the message across and so am I in this case. These youth are in extreme situation where extreme solutions are called for. Not all of us are in these extreme situations, but the lessons of what may need to be sacrificed in order to grow is still important. Taking care of ourselves and other people calls for careful and intentional examination of the places in our lives that need attention and perhaps change. This extends to matters of faith too.

Some faiths teach the unworthiness of people and dwell on it. The Gospel message is that God has made us worthy of grace and we can embrace that. Yet letting go of older notions of unworthiness are hard to do. Messages given to women in most societies and faiths are that they are unworthy. The same is true of gay men and lesbians who get an even stronger message in these same places of even worse than unworthy. In some cases it’s so bad that when the message of God’s unconditional love is given, people who have been hurt don’t trust that message and hold onto the negative feelings because they’re old and were received as children. It’s not surprising that Jesus defended children so strongly since the wounds they receive to their souls go so deep and can last a life time. He said, "If any of you place a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around It’s your neck and you were throw into the sea."

It’s so important to minimize the damage we do to the spirits of a child. Who doesn’t make mistakes with children? But the biggest mistake is make them believe that love of family or God is based on compliance to rules rather than free and unconditional. Discipline does not have to be connected with the withdrawal of love or threatened.

When we are baptized, it’s a reminder that we are loved by God without condition. We are brought into a community to live into that love and embrace it for our own growth and offered to others by sharing the good news we’ve received. Some will hear it, some won’t. But we have to keep telling it anyway. That’s the second part of Baptism. The first is hearing the Good News for ourselves. The second is sharing it with others.

Later Jesus would tell his disciples to go out into the world to proclaim this message of God’s love. In order to do that, it really has to be seen as important enough to do it. As small as they are, we’ll tell these babies of their value and begin preparing them to share this news with as many people as they can. And just as we do it with babies, we do this with youth and adults. We send them out.

Today we not only baptize these babies, we send forth Deacon Chris to her next assignment. Her gifts are unique. The church where she is going, St. Luke’s in Montclair, has heard the Gospel. They really have, and for a long time.

Chris is not bringing them the Gospel as much as she’s bringing it to them through her eyes and through her voice, and that, they have not experienced. They will benefit from and be enriched by her living of the Gospel, her preaching and her prayers just as we have. Her vision of God and her relationship with Jesus will have the same gentle yet strong impact on them as it has had on us. There are changes in all of our lives. There’s not one of us who hasn’t moved from one place to another and each of us will move again and again, before all is said and done. Even our thoughts and ideas, our values and understanding has changed.

But as we move, we are still within the love of God and the embrace of the Spirit. Take that message of love, breathe it in deep and allow it to salt you with fire. In the same breath we don’t know what it means and we know exactly what it means. Wherever we go, we go with God who loves us and values us no matter what and regardless of what anyone else might think. That’s worth talking about. Amen.

©2009 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Living Bread

By The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

In the name of the Living God, our Rock, our Redeemer. Amen.

Maybe you’ve noticed that the Gospel lessons for the past three weeks have come from John. We started out with the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand on the mountainside with five loaves of bread and two fish in verses 24-35. The people who were fed were amazed that not only did they have their stomachs filled but that there was enough left over to fill yet another 12 baskets for a later time. They knew that they had witnessed a miracle from Jesus and readily claimed him to be the prophet who was to come to them. They believed so much in Jesus after seeing and sharing in this miracle that they were ready to come, forcefully take him, and make him King. Their belief and faith in Jesus was ironclad… at least until the next day that is… when their hunger kicked in again and they looked for and to Jesus to feed them again. Their full bellies from the day before gave them their faith and belief -- not Jesus. Their main concern and interest was their physical need, not their spiritual lives or condition. When they finally find Jesus in Capernaum the next day, he tells them directly that they seek him not because they witnessed the miracle of the feeding, but because they had been given an opportunity to eat their fill of the loaves and fish. He goes on to tell them: “Do not work for food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life. Of course, the people not knowing what Jesus is talking about, challenges him. Tell us they say, “What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you?” “Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’” Jesus says to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

Last week, we heard verse 35 again and then verses 41-51. “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” Today, in verses 51- 58, Jesus said, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

John uses repetition in these Gospel writings to drive his point -- to make it clear to us -- that Jesus IS the only bread for eternal life. Yet, like the people in Jesus time, we don’t really get the point. Oh, we understand the words well enough, but most of the time, our brains disconnect when the message isn’t interesting enough or just doesn’t satisfy our desire for what we WANT -- not what we NEED.

Even the response of the people in the various Gospel passages tells us a lot about what people wanted verses what they needed. They were more interested in following the “soup kitchen” Jesus, Jesus the cult leader and miracle worker. That whole “I am the bread of life” thing and “Whoever eats of this bread will live forever” just wasn’t flying with them at all. And so, because what they wanted clearly wasn’t going to be offered to them again, most of them left, simply stopped following Jesus. But Jesus, being Jesus, remained steadfast and on point. He didn’t adjust his teachings to get the people to continue to follow him. He didn’t beg them to come back. He continued to offer them what they needed - eternal life through spiritual nourishment and renewal. Jesus leaves it to the people to decide for themselves and us: choose eternal life or not.

This is probably one of the biggest challenges we have as Christians. To choose eternal life requires us… really demands from us… that we surrender our whole being to Christ. Not just parts of ourselves on Sunday morning, but every day, every hour, every moment of our lives to live in Christ’s love. The notion of surrendering ourselves to something or someone is challenge enough for most of us. And honestly, our societal norms and culture make it seem almost impossible to give into this idea. The reality though is that many of us have tremendous voids within our lives. It has been said that there exists in each one of us a “God-shaped hole” that can be filled only by a deep and nurturing relationship with Christ. Yet, many of us attempt to fill our voids with things that ultimately don’t satisfy anything in the long run. Since most, if not all, of these things can ever make us permanently happy, they tend to become our obsessions and addictions. We seek more money, food, sex, power, material things, fame, thrill-seeking, alcohol and drugs -- things that generally call for more and more of them all the while they give back less and less for the amount we consume and/or spend for them. And at the end of the day, we still feel empty.

Jesus said, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” Metaphorically, the bread that Jesus offers is not only his flesh and blood, it is love. It is the love of the invisible God made flesh in the incarnation of Jesus who comes into the world to be accessible to us, in our human condition and experiences. Jesus offers us an opportunity for a deeper relationship with God through him. When we embrace this love, bring it into our lives and allow the spirit of Jesus to fill our deepest void and hunger, this love begins to manifest itself and it overflows to others.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta understood this two-dimensional love better than most. As most of us know, she and her Sisters of Charity went around the streets of Calcutta, India searching for those who were destitute and who were left to die in the streets and alleyways of the city. She and her sisters would bring these people back to their mission were they were bathed and cared for. Mother Teresa said: “Every person at least one time before they die needs to know that he or she is loved.” She understood that Jesus, being the bread of life, came into the world to show us that we are loved by God and that when we choose eternal life through Him; His love overflows through us and impels us to love and care for others.

Jesus longs to be a part of us. He tells us, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.” What I hear when Jesus says this: “I am giving myself freely to you. No conditions, no requirements. Come. Come just as you are and take me in. Take me into the deepest part of you and know love as you have never known before. Come.”

In a few minutes we will stand before Christ’s table and celebrate the Eucharist. Come as you are. Come just as you are. No conditions, no requirements. Christ promises to meet us here to give us new life through Him with the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup. Come and be filled with his grace and everlasting love. Come.

Amen.

© 2009 The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

"Thou Art the Man"

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The old TV melodrama series would sometimes begin with the words, "Last week, as you recall..." to sum up the story so far before the current chapter was about to play. Since we’ve been reading the continuous story from the 2nd Book of Samuel about the rise of King David and his adventures, I thought of that melodramatic beginning. So, last week, as you recall, King David seduced the lovely Bathsheba knowing she was married to Uriah the Hittite. When she became pregnant he invited Uriah to come back from battle, party at the castle so that he would go home, presumably with his wife in a way that would give the impression that Uriah was the father of this pregnancy. The plan didn’t work and David’s solution came to set up Uriah to be killed in battle and take Bathsheba as his own wife. That plan, unfortunately, did work.

God called upon the prophet Nathan to confront David with his own guilt. Nathan’s ruse in telling the story of the rich man stealing the poor man’s lamb has become well known, but even better known is the punch line, "Thou art the man."

That quote has come to typify our ability to see the wrongs others do far easier than we are able to see our own faults. David had no problem seeing the injustice and abuse of privilege when it came to the actions of someone else. His self righteousness and judgment was turned around to slap him in the face when it was revealed that, not only was his deed found out, but that he had condemned his own actions. His anger at the rich man in the story called for a very strict punishment - David said the man should die for his actions. I’m sure he was very glad that this sentence wasn’t given to him as well.

But then he did something interesting. He confessed it. He admitted his guilt and said he sinned. The evidence was already there for everyone to see, but it was still important for him to admit his guilt. Many times today we have seen overwhelming guilt in the actions of others who still claim innocence, and maintain their innocence until the last possible moment, by which time any attempt to salvage integrity is gone. Former Presidents, governors and senators come to mind quickly. Defiant proclamations of innocence in the face of mounting evidence of guilt look even more foolish when they finally admit guilt. To David’s credit, he didn’t have to be impeached, or exposed on the nightly news or in the tabloids - once confronted he said, "I have sinned before the Lord."

Then came the consequences. The Biblical writers paint God as the judge who sends calamity for actions, but more importantly there is also revealed a spiritual truth. Our actions have consequences. Our good actions create an environment for good to emerge and our bad actions create the environment for more bad to happen. A careful reading of the two books of Samuel show a great deal of political intrigue in the court of the kings of Israel. Even though God is painted as the chess master behind it all, there’s plenty of between the lines evidence of good old fashioned cloak and dagger ambition, greed and lust. Over the course of his life, David was to father some seventy children. His oldest son, Absalom, decides he wants the throne before David’s death and hatches some pretty blood thirsty plots to make that happen. The sword Nathan predicts does indeed split the royal family in David’s generation and further ambition splits the kingdom in the next generation. Biblical scholars usually outline how the writers already knew the outcome of their stories and wove in plenty of foreshadowing. It’s done in a way that explains why things happened the way they did, and also as a warning to future kings and leaders to behave lest the same or worse befall them.

A sad note in Nathan’s prediction is that the child Bathsheba bears will die. In fact, according to the story, despite David’s repentance, the baby does die. It is David and Bathsheba’s second child, Solomon who becomes the next great king after David. But I’m getting ahead of myself in the telling of this story!

In Paul’s letter to the Ephesians he talks about the gifts of the Spirit and the different callings to which all of us are called. Some are "Apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers... etc." To expand on this letter, all of us are living out our different callings. Some are business people, some are consultants. Some are in marketing, some are in tech support, some are teachers and others work at home. Some are parents and spouses, some are partners or friends. Each of us lives a life of calling and in that calling each of us has responsibility and opportunity. We have the responsibility to do good and live with integrity and the opportunity to abuse that responsibility and act out of selfish greed or ambition.

Sometimes our mistakes are accidental, sometimes they are intentional and we hope not to get caught. Mistakes are inevitable, but God can and will still work through them for good. David’s actions with Bathsheba and Uriah were horrendous, and yet even out of that and the consequences they brought, King Solomon was born. In the Biblical story, the people who confront and admit their guilt, confess and make changes in their lives as a result, move beyond their failings and find blessings later on. It’s the people who don’t admit their wrong or make changes that end up in continual trouble. It’s not that surprising, but still it’s so difficult for so many to do.

In the Gospel lesson, Jesus tell his disciples that he is the bread of life. He makes the comparison between the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and himself. The bread that was created out of the few loaves came in handy but only lasted a short time. The bread that he is, that is, the teaching and healing that he embodies lasts forever. It is this bread that we eat in communion with each other and this small morsel and questionably tasty wine that inspires in us our desire to do good and resist the opportunities we have in our callings to abuse our authority or positions. It’s further witness that if we do make mistakes, either by accident or by foolish intention, that we can make it right and start again through the admission of wrongdoing, accepting of the embarrassing truth of our actions and moving on with a deeper humility and stronger sense of God’s love and the purpose available to us in our lives.

Our culture comes down hard on those who get caught and often subtly admires those who don’t. The spirit of Nathan comes to us in different forms of people around us, but even deeper allows us to judge our own actions, weigh them and find the strength to admit when we’re wrong and need to make amends. Our actions do and will have consequences that we always will have to face, even if it’s the guilt we live with that others no one else knows. Our task is to do good and create an environment that encourages further good. God’s love will not be stopped by our mistakes or faulty actions but it will certainly be a help to us when we want to stop making them. Nathan really told the story of the rich man and the lamb because he was afraid to confront David directly. We need to be fearless in confronting our own faults and prove to God, ourselves and each other that we are the men and women who choose to live with integrity and honor. Amen.

©2009 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

God Calming the Storm

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

A few nights ago I was in Rhode Island. I was visiting my parents, but the purpose for the visit was to be supportive of them while my mother had hip replacement surgery. The operation went well and she’s bracing herself for the difficult period of rehabilitation. The rest of us are bracing for that as well! There’s going to be a lot of shuffling around to accommodate the work of healing, but at least it’s begun. Anticipation of the event can be stress producing in one way, but when the surgery is over and it’s clear that the operation was a success, the relief that brings makes the rest of the work, as difficult as it will be, more manageable - or at least in a different and less threatening perspective.

While my mother’s surgery was elective and scheduled far in advance, we were surprised to learn that my aunt, my father’s sister, was admitted to the same hospital the same day as my mother’s surgery. Her health had been bad for quite some time and at 88 years of age, she was declining. Still, the timing seemed surreal to have my mother on one floor and my aunt on the next. My father, brother, and I went into my aunt’s room while waiting for my mother to come out of recovery and the situation looked very bad. With my cousin’s permission, I gave my aunt last rites and in fact, later that evening she died.

I was sad for my cousin and for the long road of care she had given to her mother. As her primary care giver for a number of years, there was the bitter sweet emotions of seeing her mother at peace finally and yet the pain of the sense of loss. I felt sad for my father, not even being able to imagine the emotions swirling around having his wife in pain on one floor and his sister dying of the other. My aunt and cousin are virtually strangers to me since they moved away from Rhode Island decades ago and the communication was sparse. But she and my cousin returned to Rhode Island a couple years ago to be near her brothers at the close of her life. It was a gift to all of them.

The next night as I was going to bed I could feel that familiar air pressure indicating that rain would soon be with us. Not much later I saw a flash of light and then heard the loud crack of thunder. The storm was quick and passed into the night, either that or I fell asleep feeling safe in doors.

When I read the Gospel lesson about the storm swirling about the disciples while they rowed on the sea, my mind drifted to the kinds of storms I’d just lived through. It’s not difficult to imagine the fear that comes from anticipating major surgery as a storm, or knowing that recuperation will be long and painful, or the emotions that rise in seeing loved ones in pain and feeling helpless.

The storm surrounding my mother’s surgery was inevitable, but still had a sense of planning and at least not being taken by surprise. There’s a certain amount of preparation that can take place. The storm still comes, but precautions were taken.

The storm surrounding my aunt was not totally unexpected, but still had an element of surprise. We fool ourselves to say that we are prepared for someone’s death if they’ve been ill. Expectation and preparation are not always the same and the severity of some storms still comes as a surprise even when they are predicted.

I thought of the readings as well. David entered a storm, but his was neither inevitable or a surprise. He created his. In next week’s reading, this story continues and we’ll see the consequences of David’s actions and the storm will really break. But again, he ignored the sense of righteousness he required of others and created the chaos that was soon to hit.

In the Gospel story, Jesus walked over the stormy sea to his disciples and told them not to be afraid. He himself seemed unaffected by the storm, yet entered into the storm experienced by the disciples. In all the cases of the storms I’ve mentioned, God was present and it helped calm the storm. With my family, prayer helped. Prior to the surgery, my parents, brother and I prayed. I should say that other than grace at meals, we are not accustomed to praying together and any self consciousness was swept away by the urgency of the situation. I find the same is true in other situations. People who are uncomfortable with prayer, become very comfortable when it addresses their pain. Inviting God in at times of need does help. Each of us in that prayer circle were going to be affected in ways that were both similar and different, and each of us was strengthened to face our particular challenges. When it came time later that day to give my aunt last rites, another circle formed around her bed and again, inviting God to come into that quiet storm helped.

Issues and challenges don’t disappear through prayer, but God does calm the storm. The disciples still had to row the rest of the way. Jesus didn’t give them a motor for their boat, just quieted the wind so they could finish rowing. They still had work to do, as did each of us in the hospital that day, even as David did in the events that unfolded after his affair with Bathsheba.

In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul prayed that they would be "...strengthened in (their) inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in (their) hearts through faith, as (they were) being rooted and grounded in love."

He also wrote, " I pray that you..know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with the fullness of God." David created his own storm and in our sense of fairness deserved the trouble he later got, and one might also argue that he didn’t deserve to have God’s love enter his storm and forgive him.

But that’s the point. God’s love is deeper than we can imagine and enters into storms that we didn’t create and those that we did.

Part of the healing that occurs in any of the events is offering our prayer to others that are in the same storms. The love of God is not only available to us through direct prayer, but also reflected through us and others in the prayer we offer one another. The love of God is experienced in the ways we reach out to each other to help in times of need. For every tragedy and storm in my life, part of the healing comes when I identify with someone going through similar pain and share with them what I’ve learned or experienced. Every ordeal we’ve been through can leave us stronger, and that strength will help us later on. It will also help someone who is feeling weak in their own crisis and storm.

The first part of the Gospel lesson is the familiar feeding of the multitudes with a few loaves and fish. Even if we think what we offer isn’t enough for a task that seems daunting, God can make it enough and more than that, God can make it abundant.

Storms will come. Of that there is no doubt. Storms in the weather and storms in our lives. In all of them God is near and coming to us in its midst. Fear not. Amen.

©2009 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Dancing Before the Lord

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

David danced before the Lord. There was a big celebration and parade as they escorted the Ark of the Covenant from its traditional northern home to Jerusalem, David’s new capital city. The Ark, long before it was lost and retrieved by raiders, was a relatively small, decorative container for the stone tablets marking the ten commandments. The ancient Israelites believed that whoever possessed the Ark would be blessed by God in both battle and harvests. It was a symbol of God’s presence and a focal point for worship.

We’re told that David danced before the Ark in a linen ephod, though we’re never really told what an ephod is. From the reaction of David’s wife, Michal, we can assume that it was scanty. In fact in the verses missing from this particular reading, she rails at him for making such an inappropriate spectacle of himself. That’s not how a king should behave. Having been the daughter of a king, she knew how to behave and obviously felt it was time to teach her shepherd husband, now king, how to conduct himself in public. David, of course, being a man of the people, was having none of that, and delighted in the dance.

I think public sentiment today would side with Michal on this one. I remember when Bill Clinton was first running for President he went on Saturday Night Live. In a now famous clip, he put on a hat and sun glasses playing the saxophone doing a Blues Brothers impersonation. Commentators clucked and said it was "unpresidential". I wondered why. Can’t the President have fun too? Shortly after Barack Obama was elected he and his family went to Hawaii on vacation. Some photographer zoomed in and got a shot of him leaving his room going to the beach without a shirt. Again commentators debated the appropriateness of the public seeing the president not fully clad.

The image of David dancing in the street with the crowds in a show of comaradery and joy over the presence of God in their midst is, I think, enormously human and refreshingly joyful.

The theme of dancing is carried over into the Gospel lesson also. But in this case it takes an ominous form. Tradition names her "Salome" though in the Bible she is not named and referred to mostly as the daughter of Herodias - Herod’s stepdaughter. She’s one of the Bible’s bad girls and shares notoriety with a future Queen of Israel named - Jezebel. In any event, her dance is seductive and enticing and elicits from Herod the offer for anything she wants. She chooses, of course, the head of John the Baptist. It is not a joyful dance, but a dance of death.

In the early 1960's songwriter Sydney Carter took a Shaker tune and wrote the words of what became a popular song called Lord of the Dance. This song depicted Jesus as the dancer inviting people to dance with him. Like David, it brings forth a playful image of joy and excitement in the presence of God.

I’ve always enjoyed the references to God’s playfulness and joy. My favorite quote from Psalm 104 says God made the Leviathan for the sport of it. There’s so much joy to be had and too often we squelch it before it has a chance to take root. Jesus says he came that we might have joy and that our joy will be full.

The unfortunate specter of Pilgrims and Puritans is part of our cultural DNA that casts a suspicious eye on dancing or other forms of joy as being the Devil’s playground. It’s a shame that what comes most natural to people is suspect.

We’re given mixed messages about joyfulness - its appropriateness and its expression. To be sure there are times when silence is called for and serious attitudes are needed to address serious situations. In the great Cathedrals awe at the high naves and towering pillars often makes people quiet and pensive. Issues of poverty and justice also require a serious determination.

And yet matters of personal faith should include joy. Dancing is one of those forms of movement that allows us to "let go." It’s freeing and unique self expression. I love going to ballets and modern dances to see the art forms made in motion. I must say, that I still do prefer watching other people dancing rather than myself. I am much too guarded. When I became single again after many years, I was in my early 40's and my best friend said he was going to teach me how to be single again and took me out to some hot spots. After coming out of one place he came up behind me, grabbed my shoulders, shook me and yelled at me to loosen up. (He’s one of the few friends I have taller than me and can do that quite easily.) He then said we were going dancing. I really froze and pleaded that I couldn’t dance. Nonsense, everyone can dance, says someone who is an excellent dancer. We go out and after a few minutes on the dance floor, he just stops, puts his hands on his hips, looked at me with a cocked head and said, "You really don’t get out much, do you?"

In the monastery in South Africa, Brother Josias was well known for dancing during the music. Tall and thin his robes twirl as he claps and bobs and weaves through the chapel to the drums and singing. It’s a beautiful sight full of joy before the Lord. Taking a freedom that we’ve often lost and making it a gift to God, who, to tell you the truth I believe is also dancing.

Liturgical dance is an outgrowth of this feeling. Some of the churches around here have groups of liturgical dancers and it’s quite an effective and meaningful addition to the worship service. I understand there’s been some interest mentioned here among different members and I want to encourage those who can bring this particular gift to the altar.

Dancing takes many forms and not all of it is with feet on a floor. Dancing is also how we relate to each other and to God. The freedom and joy or the skepticism, hostility and violence. We can dance with the lightness of David or the ominous intensity of Salome, but we do dance and it’s up to us how we do it.

Faith shouldn’t be so restrictive. From ancient times our service is called a Celebration of the Eucharist. The one who leads the worship is called the Celebrant. There’s a new movement in the church to replace that name with the word "presider". I resist this change since for me it loses this very important dimension of joy in the worship and replaces it with a utility function. Yes, one does preside over the service, but that sounds so dry to me and I’d rather celebrate. I like a neat, smooth liturgy since it is a dance, and dancers do practice and make their dance appealing. But mistakes can be absorbed in love and good nature.

I believe that how we worship is how we re-enter the world of day to day. With a sense of joy and toleration, rich satisfaction of a dance well danced, inviting others to the dance and offering it all to the Lord of the Dance. While Michal is in understandable person, and we see modern versions of her all the time, she missed a wonderful opportunity to redefine the role of King and Queen as those who are unafraid to show their joy and invite others to do the same.

At wedding receptions and other big functions where there’s music and dancing, inevitably someone starts a conga line inviting all the wall flowers to join in the dance. I get this image in life as there is so much joy available and with the invitation to join in. Allow this celebration to be a time to let your spirits free in prayer and joy, knowing that God invites you to dance and let go of all that prevents you from sharing God’s joy, a joy that God wants for us and a joy that is full. Amen.

©2009 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

The Ordinary, Working Through God's Greatness

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

In the middle of May, almost two months ago, I was in Berlin for no other reason than I’d never been there before and so many people I know said so many wonderful things about it. It was an amazing city for different reasons. Historically, it will be forever branded by its centrality to the Nazi third Reich. Among the various monuments and reminders of that period is a church substantially destroyed by the bombing of that city toward the end of the war.

Rather than tear the remaining parts down, the city leaders of the time decided to finish the sections off so that it would not further decay, but left it visibly maimed as a reminder of the horrors of war. So there it stands the entry with over half the steeple missing, large sections of the nave gone and its wall jagged. It is a powerful and mute statement of the devastation of war, even more articulate since the structure is intended to be a statement of peace and love. The church is supposed to witness God’s love and is now preserved as a witness to human aggression and turning away from the very love that is offered. Ironically, as I looked at it closer and for a longer time, it became a different statement. That church stands in silent witness to God’s presence in the midst of a broken world, like Jesus, taking upon itself the wounds of humanity to offer peace as the only real option for people. The only alternative to living in harmony with God’s love is the destruction to which people are capable.

The remains of that church also stand in contrast to the new construction surrounding it. I, like many tourists assumed that the new construction was to replace the older buildings which had been destroyed during the war. We were told that is not the case. Only 10 percent of Berlin’s building’s were destroyed. Older buildings were just torn down so they could make new ones and enjoy the creative spirit and energy represented in modern architecture. Perhaps too much of the past is a painful reminder of their shocking history and in order to move on, a new city must be built on the site of the old. But even if that is the case, they have no intention of forgetting the past. Like that church, there are plenty of reminders.

We look at Berlin now as a city connected with World War II. Even with its new exciting look, I don’t think it can ever exist without that part of its identity. And yet, in some of the museums there are pictures of happier days before there was a war, before there was a Third Reich and before there was a man named Hitler. By the time I got to Berlin and was seeing these sites, I was also tired of not hearing English. My ability at German is pathetic and though my comprehension is better than my ability to speak, both are painfully inadequate. I needed a dose of English and decided to go to the movies.

In Potsdam Place there is a center of stores and theaters that is incredibly futuristic in appearance and since the latest Star Trek movie had come out, and the theater was showing the English version of it, I made straight for it. I liked the movie very much and I also like the movies that take characters we’ve become familiar with and show us who they were before we got to know them. Youthful versions of all the characters we’ve come to know as the crew of the Star ship Enterprise grew and matured before our eyes. Like the city in which I saw this film, there was a time before they were famous. A time when they were unknown, before their greatness and faults were lived out.

Our lessons are a little bit like that too. In this case, we see David as he was just coming to the throne. The people of Israel were actually taking a big chance on him and taking a "nobody" and making him king. He had some good demonstrations of leadership in battle but could he rule a kingdom? The people of Israel had a belief that God was not only with David, but more importantly with them and could work though David as their King. David was God’s tool in building a Kingdom.

In somewhat of a reverse situation, the Gospel shows how Jesus went back to the people who knew him before he got well known and they weren’t impressed. They had a "who does he think he is" attitude and Jesus displays what might be described as frustration, but rather than dwell on it, keeps moving to the next town to continue his work and toward his destiny. Further, he sends out his disciples to go into other towns and gave them authority to do the things he did like healing and casting out demons. These are the early stories of the disciples’ humble beginnings before they became the giants of the faith they were to become.

God takes the ordinary and accomplishes extraordinary things. A shepherd becomes a king. A carpenter becomes the Messiah. Fishermen, tax collectors, and women from poor homes became phenomenal missionaries who changed the world. And it wasn’t so much that they were so great, but that it was God working Gods’ greatness through them to accomplish great things.

This July 4th weekend recalls for us 56 ordinary men given authority by the people they represented to declare independence from England. History show that many of them paid dearly with their lives and that of their families as well as their fortunes and livelihoods to sign that document and set in motion a string of events that changed a nation and the world. It’s exciting history filled with tragedy, triumph, failings and courage. We celebrate with fireworks because we know how that particular chapter of the story ended. They worked out of their faith and sense of calling without the knowledge that we have. I wonder how they would respond to the statues, museums exhibits and depictions of their lives and deeds.

In a much smaller, current example, this week marks for Episcopalians the start of the convention held every three years to lead our denomination with legislation, resolutions and visions of ministry and common life in our faith and witness of God’s love working through us in our various ministries. Ordinary people elected from each diocese around the country meet in Anaheim, California - not to go to Disneyland, but to do the work or the church and suffer constant teasing for their choice of location.

The major issues facing this convention center around how to address the departure of different diocese and individual churches from the Episcopal Church over their sharp differences over scriptural interpretation and social teaching. Specifically, churches and Dioceses in conflict with the direction the Episcopal church is moving in continuing to support the ordination of women as priests and bishops, as well as similar ordinations for gay and lesbian members of the church as well as creating liturgies for same gender marriages or civil unions. They have countless other issues, but these will dominate their work. One of our own members, Martha Gardner, is an elected Deputy to General Convention and we prayed for her at 8 am as she prepares to leave today, and we’ll continue to pray for all the Bishops and Deputies as they do this work. Hopefully history will look back, knowing the outcomes, and tell the stories of how these ordinary people given authority to heal God’s church came together and accomplished great things in the name of God and for the good of God’s church.

We too are ordinary people. Yet we are called to extraordinary feats of faith every day. Worshiping God and loving our neighbor is a task that calls forth greatness in us no less than that called out from David or Paul, or the disciples or the men and women throughout the ages who shaped and changed the world. God sends us out today giving us the authority to heal and cast out demons. There are things and people we will meet today who are hurting or broken. We may find that we are the only ones who can make a difference and we are called by God to do so. Our own brokenness and hurt may need attention and God offers healing for us and is available through prayer.

Like our ancestors in the faith, we can open ourselves to allow God to work through us and change us. Like them we can change the situations around us and together effect great changes in the world. We don’t know how the story ends, today is only our beginning. But through God’s grace it’s a story worth writing with God who is the author of life. Amen.

©2009 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ