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