The Ordination of Mary Davis to the Priesthood

By the Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

I arise today Through a mighty strength: God's power to guide me, God's might to uphold me, God's eyes to watch over me; God's ear to hear me, God's word to give me speech, God's hand to guard me, God's way to lie before me, God's shield to shelter me, God's host to secure me. Amen.

Since Mary didn't choose St. Patrick's Breastplate for her processional hymn, (and that's not a criticism) I thought it fitting to open with a Celtic prayer. Christianity has more flavours than Coldstone Ice Cream, and two of the flavours that are important to Mary are from the Celtic tradition and from the community of Taizé in France.

Ordinations are joyous events, one in which we are all participants and all the givers and receivers of blessings. In the lesson from Isaiah the seraphs flew around and called to each other "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of hosts. The whole earth is full of his glory." And on a day like today we who are all saints and angels in the heart of God call to each other, holy, holy holy is the lord of hosts, the whole earth is full of his glory." Joy is finding that God is the source of all that is good and sharing that with each other and praising God for that realization. We are here this day, joyful and praising God.

As the lesson continued and Isaiah heard the voice of God asking "Who will go for us and whom shall we send", he uttered those now famous words, "Here am I, send me." Do you think he had any idea what he was getting into? He rather got swept up in the moment and dove in, and even despite the brief fear that he wasn't worthy he said, "Here am I send me."

Since this is the season of Advent we'll read a lesson next week about another woman named Mary who was visited by an angel who had a question for her and asked if she would bear the Son of God and without hesitation she said, let it be as you have said. Do you think she had any idea what she was getting into?

In a little while after I finish the Bishop will have a few questions for you, Mary. Do you have any idea what you're getting into? I think not. None of us did, and speaking for myself, I wouldn't have it any other way.

The whole point of Advent expectation is being open to the leading of God and trusting in the love of God that calls us forward deeper into the mystery of grace and discovering how that grace is manifested in the world around us, in fact how the incarnation of God's love surrounds us.

I was delighted to see the image of a labyrinth on the bulletin this morning. For those unfamiliar with the labyrinth it is a diagram of a path representing our spiritual journey in life. Labyrinths are as ancient as most civilizations and have found a compatible home in Christianity. One of the earliest known Christian forms is in the Cathedral in Chartres in France. The tiles are worked into the floor into the labyrinth pattern similar to the one on the cover of the bulletin and pilgrims have been walking it for hundreds of years and continue to do so. We see more labyrinths around these days in recognition of their spiritual value. They are a symbol of the twists and turns in our lives, but unlike the mazes they resemble, these paths have no dead ends. It is a continuous line to the center representing union with God. The wisdom of the Labyrinth is that the pilgrim must then emerge from the center and return having been changed by the experience and returning to the world to proclaim to the others, holy, holy, holy is the lord of Hosts, heaven and earth are full of God's glory.

In the Cathedral of Chartres and in others places that have created labyrinths, it's not uncommon to see more than one person on the labyrinth walk. We enter at different times, go at different paces, pause in different spots, reach our goals at different times, gain our own insights and emerge to our own new callings. Each of us here is in a labyrinth of our lives, walking together at different paces and discovering different aspects of ourselves and God's grace. We each hear God's call differently as it is fitting to do so.

In the lesson to the Ephesians, Paul talks about the different the gifts of Christ -- "some would be apostle, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors, some teachers. We are joined and knitted together. Growing and building up in love." We are the body and Christ is the head. Each of us has different calls, different tasks for which God has asked "whom shall we send," into education, health, law, business, social services, families, and so many others areas. And each of us has in one way or another said, "here am I send me."

Mary, God has called you to the ordained ministry as a priest. You discerned the call and heard the question, Who will go for us and whom shall we send. And you answered, here am I send me. The symbol of the labyrinth is a powerful one and yet originally, not a Christian one. It's been found in pre-Christian civilizations in the far East, Native America, early Rome to name a few, and now in the Christian community. Nancy Roth, a priest, writer and retreat leader wrote a book a few years ago called Christian yoga. She was interviewed by a fundamentalist radio talk show host in the mid west who didn't believe yoga had anything to do with Christianity. She told him that when Christians do yoga, it's Christian yoga. As in yoga whose roots are non-Christian, and in labyrinths, whose roots are non-Christian, as in the world which can be very non-Christian we bring Christ. We witness the love of God in Christ crucified, Christ resurrected and the spirit of Christ still in the world. Christians see Christ in the world and it informs how we negotiate the labyrinths we walk and interact with the various children of God on our way.

As a priest, you will stand at the altar and bless the bread and wine, taking ordinary elements and they will be changed into the body and blood of Christ. You will pronounce absolution and blessings. You will anoint the sick, visit the lonely and those in need, and you will take your place in the councils of the church. And you will do all this in the name of Jesus.

In the Gospel Jesus looks at the people with compassion and tells his disciples that the harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few. As a priest you will come into contact with many people who need to feel God's love and hear about Jesus. To be sure, you're not the only laborer in the fields, but you are the only one that has your particular gifts. God called you in order to bring those gifts to fulfillment and to reach those that only you can.

For those of you who don't know me I'm the rector of St. George's church in Maplewood where Mary did her field work for two years. One of the concepts I like seminarians to wrestle with is the understanding of the "Ontological change." It's a wonderful word and sounds so heady. It's a $50 word from seminary roughly referring to an inner change that goes to our very sense of identity and spiritual substance. It's hard to pin down it's meaning, but I think you can get a sense of it when I describe it in terms of Baptism or marriage. When a baby is baptized something spiritual happens and although the baby looks and sounds the same she is completely different. How many of you are married or have been joined in civil union? The sacramental moment changed something in you. You each entered the church one way and yet when you left, you were the same people and yet totally different. That's the ontological change. God's call to service changes us and how we respond to it changes us. We grow and become more of who God made us to be. For most of our lives we have a sense that we don't know where we're going, St. Paul in the letter to the Corinthians compared it to looking through a glass dimly. Part of the change is that we learn to trust God more, and though we don't always know where we're going, go freely, expectantly, open to the mysteries yet to be revealed.

The Rev. Bernie Poppe (in pulpit, top left) preaches at the
priesthood ordination of the Rev. Mary Davis (standing)
while the Rt. Rev. Mark Beckwith, Bishop of Newark looks on (right).

Mary, my sister, please stand. You are a kinetic person. You seem to be most comfortable in running shoes and no doubt you travelled a good distance of your labyrinth at a 5K pace, wrestling with ideas and challenges on the go. I suspect that even now you are restless, wound up like a clock about to strike. Turn around slowly. I want you to take a look at the people here. I want you to take some deep breaths, slow down and remember this moment. Your history is here, all the people who mean the most to you in the world are here. Even those who have died are here in the communion of Saints. Your present is here in that your ministry is among many of the good people here. Your future is here in the spirit of God that will lead you your whole life long. God made you kinetic to move among the people of God and spread His word and sacraments. You are a harvester, and there is much to harvest. I asked you earlier if you knew what you were getting into. Maybe a little, but not a lot. But like Isaiah and the other Mary and so many others who laboured in the fields and those that still do, we've gotten into the love and service of God. We don't know where that will take us or what will be asked of us as time goes on, but what we can always be certain of is that God is with us, gently guiding us along the turns, mmm, sometimes not so gently, but always in a way that inspires us to tell those whom we meet along the way, Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of hosts. The whole earth is full of God's glory."

Let us pray using the words of Br. Roger from the Taizé community:

Jesus, joy of our hearts, you send your Holy Spirit upon us. He comes to reawaken trust within us. Through Him, we realize that the simple desire for God brings our soul back to life. (Br. Roger, Taizé)

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Hope

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Advent is that season of quiet waiting. A time of giving voice to long held hopes and desires. The lessons of the four weeks of Advent can be looked at as a unit, a series that has some movement.

Last week the lesson were vague in their sense of hope in the future, in broad terms, the message was simply "Wait." This week's lessons refine that message a bit and point to the hope in the arrival of an individual. Next week the hope is more specifically placed in God and the fourth week is the culmination of those hopes in the God made manifest in human form.

The lesson from Isaiah refers to a shoot coming from the stump of Jesse. It's a poetic way of stating a hope that the monarchy of Israel would be restored. Most everyone has heard of King David. From our earliest church school days we heard stories about David and Goliath - the young man who single-handedly slew the great giant and saved his country. It's a story as cherished now as it was when it was first spoken. Later David becomes King and establishes a long line of kings. David's father's name was Jesse. And although Jesse was a simple man of humble birth, the line of Kings in Israel is sometimes referred to by his name -- the House of Jesse.

One of the images of Kings is a mighty tree, but in the case of Israel several hundred years after David lived, the line was broken by a foreign invasion. The last King of Israel was captured, tortured and marched in chains through the town in front of his subjects. One of the legacies of that humiliation was the enduring hatred Israel developed for its enemies and the distrust of neighboring countries.

Yet even in disgrace, humiliation and occupation, Isaiah wrote of a hope that the line of Jesse would somehow be re-established. That a shoot would grow out of the stump of the mighty tree that had been cut down.

Medieval times echoed this kind of hope in the emergence of the legends of King Arthur. The people waited in hope for the one who would pull the sword from the stone. And even after that legend ran its cycle, hope of a king like Arthur lived on.

Part of the waiting for any king under painful circumstances is that the expectations get bigger and bigger. Isaiah rhapsodizes over the future king. He describes how God would endow him with wisdom and understanding, knowledge and faith. He would rule with great righteousness and courage. Peace would be brought at last and a just society would be established -- even the animals would get along peacefully.

This hope is echoed in the psalm from this morning also. "He shall defend the needy among the people, he shall rescue the poor and crush the oppressor. He shall live as long as the sun and moon endure...." The hope of the people for such a king stands in equal proportion to the despair they felt for the circumstances in which they lived.

It's beautiful poetry and in the case of the psalms, music was composed to accompany it and it became their souls' songs. But there was a built in problem with these hopes as they were expressed. As Isaiah wrote, " He shall judge...; he shall strike the Earth with the rod of his mouth; righteousness shall be his belt; the breath of his lips shall kill the wicked...." A dynamic was being created that the individual alone would do all these things. The expectation places all the work on the shoulders of the new king and the people would watch and be vindicated for their endured suffering. They would be taken care of.

Yesterday I accompanied several of the members of our healing study group to a quiet day in Manhattan led by Brother Andrew, a monk from the Order of the Holy Cross. I got to know Brother Andrew on my sabbatical while he was in the monastery in Grahamstown, South Africa. Sometime last year he left South Africa and returned to the mother house in West Park, New York to assume new duties as the novice master. He also gets invited to lead retreats and quiet days. When I discovered that he would be leading one so close, I asked the group that usually meets on Saturday mornings if they wanted to go. It was a wonderful day of addresses and meditations on the psalms used in this season of Advent. He discussed a lot about the nature of song and its importance to people in expressing their soul. We've heard the term "soul music" before but even that term gets glossed over and speaks of rhythms rather than the true depth of soul stirring it does.

When the soul is in its deepest pain or joy or fear or hope, music arises and when it's expressed it touches the soul of another with resonances that go far beyond the words. Instrumentalists feel this as much as vocalists and audiences respond through applause, because a response is called for. One of the unfortunate traditions of the Episcopal Church is not to applaud after a piece of music. The rationale for that is that music is prayer, not performance. But I think applause is a natural outpouring of the soul's response to having been stirred -- and perhaps shaken. In truth, silence can be an eloquent response allowing the music to drift heavenward on our behalf, but sometimes you just have to clap or shout amen.

Brother Andrew told of the role of the psalms in the life of the Israelites as an oppressed people and compared it to the traditional music of the black South Africans during Apartheid. It voiced the hope that change would come, that freedom would come, that God would come and heal the pain of cruel bondage. As he was talking I thought a similar case could be made for the music of the Negro spirituals sung during American slavery. Music kept the soul glowing the flames of hope.

The Israelites were in bondage and occupation for many generations -- Assyrians, Babylonians, Greeks and Romans. As one empire rose and fell to the next, they watched their hopes of freedom rise and fall, but never lost the sense of promise that one day a King would arise and establish God's promised land again. And each generation the hope got bigger and bigger.

It's into this terrain that John the Baptist appeared. He shouted that the time was near and that the long waiting was about to end. He told them to prepare and get ready. He told them to repent, to turn and start to live with integrity and righteousness. John's words planted a new thought into an old idea. The king will bring leadership and the people will help. In order to help they needed to prepare themselves. It's the difference between watching the race and getting in it. Watching the work be done, or rolling up the sleeves and pitching in.

Jesus came to build the kingdom of God, but not by himself. He came to preach the Good News, but not by himself. He prepared his disciples to continue his work, not sit back and watch him do it. This Saturday, Mary Davis will be ordained a priest, and like so many before her, myself included, she's chosen a lesson from Isaiah which ends with the prophet hearing God's question, "Who will go for us, and whom shall we send." The prophet responds, "Here am I send me."

The Israelites were tired from their captivity and years of occupation. They wanted the shoot of Jesse to fix the world for them so they could rest. It's tempting to let our fatigue or frustration take us out of the race. But God's call is not to fall away, but prepare by taking care of ourselves and each other so that we can stay in it.

Advent is that season of waiting for the coming of God to in our lives each day. Establishing justice through our justice, and righteousness through our righteousness. Establishing love through our love. Not on our behalf, but through us. When we sing, we sing our soul's hopes and fears, frustrations and joys. We sing of God's grace in our lives that strengthens us and supports us. Each day is a new beginning and a new hope. Each day brings a new discovery of how God will use us to establish the world we so deeply need and desire. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Advent: A Time for Spiritual Preparation

By the Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The season of Advent begins today. The liturgical colors change to the royal blues and purples symbolic of anticipating the arrival of a King. The wreath is set up with the first of four candles burning anticipating the four weeks of preparation for the Feast of the Nativity, also called Christmas.

In the history of the Church, this season was a time of penance, similar to Lent. It was a time to prepare spiritually for the joy of the Christmas feast. We still have a sense of preparation for Christmas in a different, secular way. The shopping, parties, sending cards, home and shop decorations, all pointing to this special day. It's good to anticipate, it sharpens the joy of a special event. On the surface, Christmas has become about gift giving, but beneath that surface is the love that inspires the gift. The weeks leading up to Christmas are filled with the anticipation of the joy released on that day with the gifts for children, spouses, other family members, friends and co-workers. It's an Advent season in its own right.

While Christmas in today's world has taken the shape it has both in the secular and religious world, it also has a dual role for people of faith. It commemorates the birth of the Christ and looks forward to the coming of Christ again. On December 25 we observe an event that already happened. The season of Advent is to remind us that we are to be alert for an event that has not yet happened.

The lessons we read this morning are filled with this kind of anticipation. Anticipation of how God will work in the unknown future. The lesson from Israel anticipates a great day when there will be no more war and the swords will be beat into plows. Being in a time of war we can well imagine that hope. When it will no longer be necessary to arm ourselves against brothers and sisters we call enemies. When our technology will be used to create food and shelter and all necessities for the people of the world. What a great day that will be. Like Isaiah, we are a people of Advent waiting for God's kingdom in that way.

But there are also more immediate ways of waiting. The Gospel gives a nice lesson about the need for preparation. I've read this story for years and like so many other times, each reading yields a different way of looking at it. Jesus told his followers that no one knows when and how God will work in the future. He reminds them of the story of Noah and how people in his day were laughing and eating and drinking and living as though they had not a care in the world. They had no idea that the flood was about to happen and were caught unaware and carried off by it. Noah and his family alone were saved because they had listened to God and made an Ark. When the flood came, they were carried to safety -- them and the animals they needed to restock the world.

Once in a while the Discovery Channel or the History Channel will do an episode on finding the Ark. Supposedly it struck land in the Turkish mountains. They give tantalizing circumstantial evidence to substantiate the claim, but positive proof is just beyond reach. There is a segment of the Christian Church that desperately wants to find such proof as though that will validate to a scoffing world that all the claims of the Bible are literally true.

I don't think they'll find it, if you ask me. And I'm not on the side of those who believe the literal truth of Noah's Ark. As I tell the confirmation class, stories don't need to be true to find the truth in them. Searching for the Ark misses the point of the story. It's about being prepared for disaster.

God spoke to Noah and Noah listened. He built what he needed to survive the flood. The other people didn't. That doesn't mean that God didn't tell them, it means that they didn't listen. In the language of the Old Testament, God causes everything good and bad. It's a reward and punishment view of the world, nothing happens by chance. Our world view is different, and that world view was shaped by the events of the New Testament. Jesus told us of God's love for the world and God's care for the world.

God doesn't cause the evil in the world, but transcends it, overcomes it, moves beyond it and helps us to do the same. Disaster hits everyone at one time or another. The flood becomes an illustration of the overwhelming sense of calamity that may occur in our lives. People who have suffered the death of a parent or child, spouse or partner can relate to the power of a flood sweeping them away. Loss of jobs or security such as those lost in this long recession has been devastating to many. The earthquakes in Haiti, the hurricanes in the south and other natural disasters point to the overwhelming power of disaster.

Without trying to sound too apocalyptic, we are all in the path of some unknown disaster. We will all experience, if we haven't already, something devastating. The question comes up, how have we prepared for it? What ark have we built to protect us from the flood?

Last week we had a lovely baptism of a sweet baby girl. I reminded those here that the part of the church where the pews are is called the nave, which is from the Latin meaning "ship." A look at the ceiling is to remind us of the underside of th hull of a ship. The symbol here is that our faith is the ark upon which we are carried to safety when trials or disaster strikes.

We carry insurance for our homes, cars and health, not in a way that makes us afraid to go outside, but in a way that makes us feel reasonably prepared if something happens to anyone of those things. But none of those forms of insurance works for the spirit of a person trying to pick up the pieces of a life that has been disastrously affected. That kind of preparation comes in prayer and faith.

Rose Kennedy was asked what she did each time she received the tragic news that one of her sons had been killed. Her response was that the first thing she did was to go to church. Before she could deal with the shock and grief, she had to pray. Her Ark was built very strong, and she made it through. People who survive great tragedy and horrible living situations often credit prayer with their ability to survive. Scientific tests are conducted these days observing the increase in healing ability among those who profess a faith versus those who claim to have no faith.

Advent as a season of preparation calls us to consider the importance of being spiritually prepared to be in the world, putting on the "armor of light" to use Paul's phrase. Doing so means that we not living in fear that something might happen, but living in faith that when it does, we can handle it and with God's help transcend it, and like Noah, bring with us that which we need to rebuild our world.

Last week the clergy of this district got together for a meeting with Canon Greg Jacobs who is Bishop Beckwith's assistant. His official title is "Canon to the Ordinary." We all get together from time to time to check in with each other, find out what's going on in our churches and our lives and support each other in various ways. We often do a Bible study using the lessons for the upcoming Sunday and it actually helps us prepare for our sermons.

When we read this Gospel we shared different impressions. When it was my turn I was overcome by a devilish smile -- the kind that gave away that I'd thought of something that I found very funny but wasn't sure my colleagues would. Never the less I ventured my impression of the story Jesus told with the people eating and drinking unaware of the flood. God help me, it reminded me of the Three Little Pigs. Building the house of straw and twigs wasn't enough. The wolf blew them both down. But the house of bricks was strong enough. The people eating and drinking that Jesus talked about had built their houses of straw and twigs, but Noah, to complete the musing, had the house of bricks. They teased me for my thoughts but kept coming back to the image I used. Our children's stories are ingrained in us in the ways that the Bible stories were ingrained in generations of people of faith. They speak of truths that reach deep into our understanding and teach us how to prepare for the world in which we live that can sometimes be dangerous and appear cruel.

Advent is about preparing for the feast of Christmas, but in a deeper sense is about being prepared with God's help to be in the world. To live in expectation that no matter what, God will be there for us to see us through the floods of overwhelming circumstance in our lives. As Jesus said, we don't know when these things will happen -- the day or the hour -- but they will come like a thief in the night. When they do, we have the power of God to see us through. And just as the circumstances of our lives come at unexpected times, the strength of God comes at equally unexpected times to save us. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

The Baptism of Arden

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

It's a pleasure to welcome the immediate and extended families of Arden Murphy and their friends to St. George's this morning. It's a special day for several reasons. First, as the psalmist has written, this is the day the Lord has made, therefore let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Second, as the Sunday before Thanksgiving, the St. George's community celebrates the holiday today with a meal in the parish hall following the service. We're a little more relaxed than we will be as the week progresses and before we all go our separate ways it's nice to be together to give thanks.

Third, on the Liturgical calendar this is the last Sunday before Advent, and it has a special name. It's called Christ the King Sunday. The lessons for the day and the music choices focus on the theme of Jesus as Sovereign. More on that later.

Last, but in no way least, we are baptizing a little baby today named Arden Murphy. She was born in August and her parents Jessica and Chris have been coming to St. George's for a couple years, usually at 8 a.m. I believe the realities of nap time have begun to alter your lives a bit and we're seeing you at 10:30 more often. Little bundles create big changes. So here we are, and welcome to one and all.

I must admit that I automatically feel a bit apologetic to those of you who are new or visiting St. George's and that a word of explanation is needed for the choice of readings today. As I said earlier, since it is Christ the King Sunday the lessons are geared to that theme. Normally for baptisms different readings are assigned and some that are much less foreboding and grim. Usually they're happier.

For example, I would not normally have chosen Jeremiah to shout "woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture!" Nor would I have chosen the crucifixion for a happy baby day. But, like so much of life, we take what we're given and see how we can make it work.

Baptism, its symbols and vows bring a person into the church community. Not only the parish of St. George's, but the worldwide community of believers. But Christians are a motley crew with a wide range of beliefs and not always a gracious tolerance for the differences. Never the less, now matter what our creeds or beliefs are, we are united by the person of Jesus. That one life connects us all. We believe that God acted in the world in a unique way, and touched the lives of everyone on the planet in an act of love so profound that it radiates through the centuries and draws people to its light.

Love is that light. The very first act of creation noted in Genesis is when God made the light and said it was good. It's astounding that God so loved the world that he gave his only son, to quote John, that all who believe will have eternal life. Beliefs change and grow over time. They differ from others. Even those who claim to be the most traditional hold onto beliefs that have changed over time. The constant however, is that God loves the world. And God loves Arden. Those two statements are basically what Baptism is about. It's our way of telling her that, and reminding ourselves of the same truth as it applies to us.

In a way baptizing a baby on the feast of Christ the King may be very appropriate. Because without making that simple statement, there would be nothing to baptize her into.

One of the seeming contradictions of Jesus' life is the death of the King in the manner of a criminal. Yet, it demonstrates that sovereignty is not a measure of material or military strength. It's about union with God which transcends all the trappings of this life and goes to the core of our spiritual being. There is much more to us than the body, what we wear and what we eat or how we act and react in the world. At our deepest core is love and how we nurture it and reflect it in the world. That is the spark of God in us.

The crucifixion is a contradiction of what one expects of a King, but it's not a contradiction in the language of love. Parents do what they need to do to protect their children and God does what God needs to do to protect us, even if that means going to the deepest canyons of human fear and cruelty to say I still love you even here.

Jesus between the two thieves becomes a microcosm of the world. There he is between the ones who believe and the ones who don't. Scripture tells us the two on either side of Jesus were thieves. It doesn't say what they stole, but it must have been pretty bad to end up on a cross. All the rest of us may not be thieves of that ilk, but I dare say we all have one or two things that we regret and demonstrate that we are not without sin, to quote a phrase. None of us are going to be throwing any stones. Between each other, people in the world and even within ourselves there is always a tug of war between these two criminals - those who scoff at the power of love and those who depends on it and want to be remembered by it. In our deepest selves this tension exists at one time or another. In the world of contradictions in which we live this tension exists all the time. In business, at school, or in our families, these tensions exist. The good news is that God is there and despite the fallibility of people and even the intention to kill that which is good and loving, the power of God, the power of love cannot be killed and will always rise. That's why it's sovereign. And that's what we tell Arden. It'll be more convincing to her if we believe it. And we're more likely to believe it if we stay close to the source of it -- in prayer and meditation, in song and fellowship. If we practice reflecting God's love in the world through kindness and understanding, justice and generosity. Sometimes it's easier than others, and we may drift, but whenever we get back into the swing of it, we feel better.

The Murphy's are a sailing family. I had prepared a series of sailing metaphors but decided to spare you, metaphors of safe harbors in stormy seas, and stories of Jesus' calming the waves, that sort of thing. But I do want you to look up at the ceiling of this church. The section in which you are seated is called the "nave". It's from the Latin for "ship". If you use your imagination you can see the inside hull of the ship. There are a lot of stories in scriptures about boats and the sea since that was part of their everyday life. I realized I didn't need to come up with sailing metaphors since the most important one is the one we are now gathered in. It is a safe place for Arden to meet Jesus and for all of us to voyage together. We fuss from time to time, but on the whole we play well together. We pray, sing and eat together, and we try our best to reflect the love of God together. So for these things we give thanks, we praise Christ the King, we welcome Arden on board and look out on this wonderful day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Vision and Stewardship

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The Book of Proverbs writes, that "without a vision the people perish." It’s a phrase that is quoted a lot in religious circles because it points urgently to the need we have to hope in the future. A vision becomes a goal that is achievable, if not in specifics, then in concept. Institutions will write vision statements based on the direction they hope to go and the spirit in which they want to get there. A mission statement has specific goals, but a vision statement is wider, it takes in dreams and hopes for the future. It encapsulates what the person or institution is trying to build.

Without a vision of the future and the hopeful possibilities it holds, we just plod along in a survival mode on a treadmill with no particular motivation. We become dry and bitter.

Isaiah’s passage contains something akin to a vision statement for the people of Israel who were held in captivity in a foreign land. It holds a vision for how their lives should and will be in the future when they are released from that captivity. In their past, they worked fields and never knew for sure if some marauders would attack at harvest time and leave them without the fruit of their labor. They might be attacked in their towns and driven out, and the attackers take over the homes that they themselves had built. In Isaiah’s vision, none of that would happen. They would be safe and secure in their homeland and live to ripe old ages. More than that, even the animals would live in peace. The wolf and the lamb, the lion and the ox - all living peacefully. The only one who doesn’t share in the bounty of Isaiah’s vision is the serpent. The serpent’s food shall be dust. They never really forgave the serpents for the whole Adam and Eve thing. Not everyone gets to share the vision!

The vision in the Gospel of Luke is not as rosy. It’s triumphal in an important way, but it isn’t without suffering and anxiety. The early Christians faced hard times. When the Gospel of Luke was written approximately 40 years after the events it describes about Jesus, Christians were persecuted by the Romans and the Jewish leadership. Christians didn’t acknowledge the divinity of the Roman Emperor, or the traditional law of the Jews, and they suffered the rejection and persecution of each. The Gospel of Luke wrote the words of Jesus in the context of a church in distress, much like Isaiah wrote to people in the midst of distress. Whereas Isaiah’s words were poetic and blissful, Luke’s were ominous, because it contained their realities. Family members did turn against each other and turn their Christian members in. If one member of a family was a Christian, the whole family could be punished. Rather than face that, family members publicly turned against each other and remained safe that way. The temple was torn down in 67 AD, so the words of Jesus describing a time when even that would happen was seen as the fulfillment of a prophecy, and the hope of another prophecy that the second coming of Jesus was only a short time away. The early Christians held to the hope that Jesus would appear in their lifetime and bring the faithful to heaven. Both visions kept the people they served hopeful and connected to their faith.

Visions can sometimes backfire, however. Paul wrote to the Thessalonians to get after them for being lazy. Paul had done such a good job of convincing them that the second coming of Jesus was so immanent that some took it as a reason to stop working and wait. Why bother getting up for a job you don’t like if Jesus is right around the corner? Ah, don’t worry, be happy. Paul told them to get back to work and stop being a drain on the folks who did work.

Planning for the future and looking ahead with a vision is easy in one sense and difficult in another. It’s easy to dream up a utopian world and hope for a vague someday. It’s quite another thing to set realistic goals that stretch us but not so far that we despair that the dreams will ever happen.

The workers for abolition, or women’s suffrage, civil rights, and now marriage equality had and have a vision for a better world that at times seemed so far away and yet so close to possibility. In each struggle there were victories and set backs. There was optimism and frustration, the motivation to move ahead and the temptation to give up. The vision of each group was aided by the belief that God was at work in the journey toward justice and equality. The inherent value of each person as a child of God give us all a promise that we matter and that we are just as good as the next person and that the rights of one need to be available to all. If we believe that we are equal in the eyes of God, then we need to fight to be equal in the eyes of the law. In order to achieve these visions, sitting idly by isn’t going to help. Great strides have been made and further strides need to happen.

We have a vision here at St. George’s too. We envision a world in which all people are welcome in the eyes of God and each other; that the gifts and talents of each person are valued and celebrated; that we discern God’s call to us individually and as a community and find the faith and courage to live into it. We have a legacy of the work done so ably by those in past generations who have preceded us in this building. We have done a lot of work in this generation and we are making it possible for those who come after us to meet the challenges of their day. Our stewardship of the buildings and resources of St. George’s speak of our faith and how we believe God is calling us to use them. We reach out and we reach in. We reach out to the local and global community with our physical labor and financial contributions. We respond to global and national crisis. We offer food and shelter. We visit the sick and those in prison. We provide for children and families in need. We witness for justice and equality.

Occasionally at Diocesan and other church functions I’ll receive compliments about St. George’s for the work we do here. At first I’m confused because it’s become so second nature here that I assume all churches do what we, and am often surprised to learn that they don’t. We roll up our sleeves and do a lot of work and raise a lot of money and we still enjoy each other’s company doing it. Apparently this is not the case everywhere.

Yet, as wonderful as that is, we cannot be like the Thessalonians and sit on our past successes. There is still a lot to do. We still have a vision of what can be done for families, and children in particular. Providing an environment of faith takes intention and commitment. It doesn’t happen overnight or without work. Our work in the area of stewardship is a witness to that. In each of the stories told by parishioners this year and in years past, the discovery of God in this place emerged and the desire to be actively engaged as a result has gotten expressed in as many ways as there were stories.

One of the prayers in the Baptismal Covenant is that the person baptized has an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love God, and the gift of joy and wonder in all God’s works. Stretch in the stewardship of your time, talent and treasure. Engage in the vision of this community in our work and witness to God’s love and live into the baptism of being a disciple of Christ.

Pledges are a personal thing. The stewardship committee and the different levels of church organization often tip toe around the topic hoping not to turn people off or offend. We keep the pledges confidential and it’s important to give that assurance. We will teach about proportionate giving and the tithe. Proportionate giving is taking your salaries or financial resources and deciding on a percentage to pledge to the church. The tithe simply refers to the proportion that is ten percent. Whether before or after taxes is not a conversation we usually get into, except to say that it is up to the individual.

To a newcomer this may seem like a lot, and in a way of speaking it is. But when we look at the growth we’ve received in our lives, it’s generally been after some huge event or huge intentional action. Giving to God’s work in the world is such an intentional action. Your giving may be divided between this church and other places where you feel God’s work is being done. I’ve heard it put that "my money goes where I can’t."

We have a vision for the church that includes an increase in program, involvement of our members and reaching out to people who really want and need to find a spiritual home in which they feel welcomed, challenged and safe. We need to feel the presence of God in our prayer, music and fellowship. That comes from intentional giving, it doesn’t just happen. But we also have a vision for each individual among us. We are at our best when we give outside ourselves. Confidence and generosity are the characteristics of a spiritually healthy person. Fear of scarcity, withdrawing and isolating are signs of trouble. This is a sensitive and touchy area, but one that needs to be looked at in a safe way. We want to grow and be strong physically, spiritually and mentally. It takes intention and commitment. Growth doesn’t happen by chance. Stewardship time is one occasion in which we discuss our need for the contribution of our members to do the ministry that we do here, to keep it going and to help it grow. But it’s also an invitation for each of us to grow individually as well. Our ancestors in the faith overcame amazing odds to spread the Gospel of God’s love and became transformed in the process. We have daunting challenges in our day as well and with their example and the grace of God at our backs, we’ll meet ours as well. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

All Saints

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

This morning we observe one of the main feasts of the Church Year, All Saints Day. The actual day was November 1, which was last Monday. In the days when Christianity was new, there was a practice of placing Christian holidays on or close to Pagan holidays in the hope that they would come to eclipse them - which they did. For example Christmas was placed on the Roman feast of Saturnalia - a day in honor of Saturn, the Roman god of the harvest. It was a time of merriment in which masters and slaves reversed roles for the 3-5 days of its duration. (It's an interesting day to celebrate the Christian God who became human.) Needless to say the strategy worked and while people know Christmas, we have long forgotten Saturnalia.

A case can be made for a similar happening with All Saints Day and the Celtic feast of Samhain. That pre-Christian feast celebrated the harvest and observed the thin line between the living and the dead. When the crops were harvested and the plants which bore them left to die, the cycle of life was celebrated and a feast enjoyed. Gourds were carved to ward off evil spirits and costumes fashioned to mock them. When the Christian Church arrived on the British Isles this feast with its costumes came to celebrate the saints of the Christian year and costumes that mocked death and celebrated Jesus' triumph over death and the victory over demons and the powers of darkness.

However, I think a reverse has happened in the case of All Saints Day. The secular fascination with Hallowe'en has eclipsed the day it was supposed to celebrate. All Hallow's Eve, of the Eve of All Saints has taken on a life of its own, and the holiday it is supposed to herald has been largely forgotten.

Ghosts and Ghouls and all types of monsters, princesses and hobos, boxes of pop corn and cell phone costumes, super heroes and the like, have supplanted the men and women known as saints in the calendar of Christian memory. So it's our task to remember the main feast day of All Saints. We are all saints and over time have come to recognize specific people as examples "of godly living" as the collect says it. Part of what we recognize as "saintly" is the courage of faith convictions to do extraordinary things for the good of others. They carry the message of God's love to different configurations of people over the centuries that the church has existed. They have seen Christ in all persons and served them.

The Episcopal Church inherited the list of saints from the Roman Church, though our relationship to them is slightly different. We honor them for the lives they led and we name our churches after some of them - even the ones that, alas, like Blessed George, are not necessarily historically factual. While we may doubt the historicity of a medieval soldier named George slaying a dragon, we hold to the spiritual truth of men and women who battle amazing odds successfully in living out their faith and accomplishing true miracles in those lives. And some of then are most definitely named George.

Whereas our Roman friends still require stringent background checks and miracles before they dub the name "Saint" on an individual, the Episcopal Church has created a book of saints that includes the actual, the hopefully actual, and even the doubtfully actual saints of old with contemporary saints whose lives model faith and fortitude in larger than life ways.

One such saint is Martin Luther King. Dr. King is responsible for many miracles and is beyond doubt an example of virtuous and godly living.

Some of the youth from this parish gave up a day off from school this past Thursday to go to the New Jersey Food Bank. We got a tour of that very impressive facility which feeds and clothes thousands of people each year. It began in 1975 when a woman named Kathleen DiChiara collected dented cans from supermarkets and gave them out to people in need in the Newark area from the back of her car. Today the project is huge and gathers food from many venues including churches like ours who have food bins and bring them to be distributed.

There is a banner at the Food Bank over the hallway leading into the main storage facility with a quote from Dr. King. It reads: Life's most persistent and urgent question is, What are you doing for others?"

Service is the sign of hope in our world that connects what we believe and what we do about it. Giving service in any fashion to those in need is ministry and proclaiming through action that God loves all people, and that they are blessed. Not blessed in that their circumstances are dire, but blessed in that they are not forgotten by God and they are loved.

The Gospel lesson connected with All Saints Day is the Beatitudes. The list of those who are blessed is among the most beautiful passages in all of the scriptures and they are words of hope for those who seem to be forgotten by the world.

Blessed are the poor, blessed are those who are hungry now, blessed are those who weep, blessed are you when people hate you on account of the Son of Man... We sometimes mistake the word "blessed" with the world "lucky". But that's not what it means at all. It means "consecrated, sacred, holy." Set aside for a particular purpose. And more often that not the purpose is to manifest the love of God, through their actions or in calling forth an action in others.

The service that we do for those in any need, if it comes from our faith conviction that God is reflected in all people and our work honors that, then we are living into our faith. Through our prayers, through our actions, through our contributions, through the welcome we extend to the visitor.

Saints dedicated their lives to service in God's name. They still do. It's so very important that we create service venues for our youth and engage in it ourselves. It takes us out of ourselves in a good way. I guarantee that if you're sad or angry about something, the antidote is service to another person, no matter how seemingly small.

We continue our stewardship campaign today and hope to gather pledges next week for the work and ministry here at St. George's. We are a vital and vibrant presence in Maplewood, in the Diocese of Newark and in the country and beyond. Our service and faith commitment has reached out to people in the Indian Ocean region affected by the 2004 Tsunami, the people in Haiti, South Africa, Mississippi, to name a few. Our voice has been heard in Trenton and Washington. People who have been hurt by religious institutions, families of origin or current families or battered by life's circumstances have found healing here in prayer, music, study and food. Later this morning we'll bless a tricycle given in the memory of Gabriel Batiste who would have been 5 years old last week. When death or loss hits us, we process the healing through giving in a variety of ways. The joy this tricycle will give a child at the Turning Point Community Services Family Shelter, helps his parents Miguel and Suzette and grandmother Yolanda in their healing over his untimely death.

We are saints in a long tradition or those committed to God through Jesus who are inspired to reach beyond ourselves, and in the process become ourselves in a way that is deeper and more fulfilling than we can imagine. By George, there are dragons out there, and by God we'll take them on. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Fight the good fight, finish the race, keep the faith

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

From the second letter of Timothy, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." Vocabulary and style differences prevent scholars from totally agreeing that the letters to Timothy are really from Paul. It was a common practice for students to write in their teacher's name or even the name of the person who inspired them. So it's possible that although the author of this Epistle claims to be Paul in the opening verses, that it is in fact someone inspired by Paul who wrote in his name.

Despite that, the importance of the Epistle is not in question. It is a faithful rendering of the issues faced by the early church and some of the practical advice and solutions offered. In the passage we read this morning, the author is writing from the point of view of someone at the end of their life or ministry. The Epistle is filled with tender words of encouragement and confidence in young man named Timothy. "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith" are words that affirm the authors life's work and by implication encourage Timothy to do the same.

This morning we Baptize two babies. In a short time we'll renew our own Baptismal vows and pledge our support of Elijah and Henry in their new lives in Christ. We're telling them that living a Christian life is sometimes "a fight", but one worth taking on. We promise to proclaim a Gospel of God's love in a world torn by war and battered by hate. It's not always popular Gospel, even among those who say they proclaim it. I spoke recently with a woman who attempted to apply her Christian commitment to how she managed her staff in a major corporation. Without using overtly religious language, she encouraged them to care for each other and help each other in their projects. It wasn't very successful, she said. Her suggestions were considered signs of weakness and out of place in a competitive, often combative environment. Where manners are considered signs of weakness, it's no wonder there are so few of them demonstrated.

But we're telling these babies to try. To persevere in the faith and the belief that Jesus' teaching of loving God and our neighbor is crucial to a healthy spiritual life. Against the odds, it's a life worth living. We renew our Baptismal vows several times each year, because we recognize liturgically that it's not easy and we need to be reminded often.

The Gospel lesson gives the illustration of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector. It's not a story about righteousness, it's a story against being judgmental. To his credit the Pharisee did all the right things. He fasted and tithed - just like he was supposed to. Pharisees were teachers and he lived what he taught apparently. (One of my colleagues lamented that it's a pity how during Stewardship season the Tither appears as the bad guy in the story!) Never the less, what's called into question by the story is the motivation of the Pharisee for his scrupulous observance of the law. Was he following spiritual laws to enrich his spirit or just show off to others? Was his public image the important thing to him? It certainly seems that way. I think it's fine to be grateful for the strength to follow spiritual disciplines, such as fasting or tithing. Where he crosses the line is when he compares himself to others in a way that makes him superior, and by implication, more worthy of God's love and attention.

The Tax Collector may or may not have heard the boasting of the Pharisee. He didn't need to compare himself to anyone. He was aware of his short comings and yet still felt connected to God enough to ask for mercy. He didn't need to be better than anyone else, he just needed to do better himself.

That's part of the lesson we want to teach these babies. Don't compare yourselves to others as though that makes you better or worse, but seek to improve yourself based on your desire to be better young people in a world that really needs good people. Be grateful for the progress you make and seek to improve when you make a mistake. God's love is constant, no matter what. I know for my self, I've been good and I've been bad. Sometimes bad is more fun, but ultimately good is better! I was taking to a friend not long ago sharing stories of lesson we learned the hard way and we agreed that life's lessons are often learned through mistakes, and the biggest lessons are from mistakes that are expensive or embarrassing.

In last week's confirmation class the youth mentioned an interest in preaching. It was spurred by us coming in here to sing and pray at the start of the class. Sitting up here has an irresistible draw for youth to the pulpit. They love to get in here and speak into the microphone. So we talked about the scripture lesson for today and how they might preach on it. We had some extemporaneous examples, and some frank conversation on the shortcomings of my preaching. I was disappointed to discover how boring I am. I asked if I had ever caught their interest, by chance perhaps?

Stories came in first as the attention getters. Stories of my sabbatical got honorary mention, as did, surprisingly, a story from several years ago. These kids are listening, and they are remembering, even through the boring sermons. What else might make the sermons more interesting? Relating them to contemporary issues and topics, like iPods. Now, I had never thought of the spiritual efficacy of the iPod, but I'm open to learning and no sooner had we started the discussion of the iPod than the Gospel lesson was demonstrated. I thought I was going to impress them by saying I had an iPod. My momentary victory was dashed when it was reveled that my iPod was out of date. You see, I don't have the iPod Touch. I have the iPod classic. I can't mimic the attitude that accompanied the line, "You have the iPod Classic?" I felt like the Tax Collector, unable to raise my eyes in the company of my students. My shame was compounded by the Pharisaic attitude of the youth who brought out her iPod Touch and I imagined her saying "God, I thank you that I am not like other people who only have the iPod Classic, or God forbid, the Nano; or even like this priest who doesn't even know how to use it."

Teens can convey a lot by the unfiltered look of disbelief and the roll of the eyes. I was able to salvage a moment of teaching opportunity by assuring them that God loves me despite my technological shortcomings, and not only me, but all people who don't have the iPod Touch, the iPad or any of the other technological gods on the shelf. The lesson was great fun and it was apparent that we all have a bit of the Pharisee in us, as well as the Tax Collector. What we don't have, is the right to judge others based on who or what they are, or what they do or do not have. We all share similarly in the greatest gift that anyone can have, to be a child of God.

Hopefully we can bring that lesson to these two babies being baptized as well as remind ourselves of that which is simple to understand and often difficult to live out. Tell them in whatever way you can or that they can relate to -- they are definitely listening.

"Fight the good fight, finish the race, keep the faith." Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Wrestling with God

By The Rev. Bernward W. Poppe, Rector

The lessons this morning focus on the power of determination and persistence. In the first lesson Jacob wrestles with a character whose identity is never quite revealed, but certainly celestial. There has always been a question in the commentaries about whether that being is an angel or actually God. One must think that if it were God, that Jacob would have lost the fight, but then again, it is a story after all.

The reason Jacob was there in the first place is the larger part of the story that's not included in our lesson. Jacob was caught between a rock and a hard place.

His two wives were sisters. He loved the younger sister, Rachel, and worked for seven years to win her hand from her father Laban. Laban tricked Jacob on the wedding day, substituted the older sister Leah hidden under a veil and made Jacob work an additional seven years for Rachel. In return when Jacob got the opportunity, he managed to cheat Laban out of a large portion of his flocks and before Laban figured out the trick, Jacob took his then sizeable family and entourage and fled the region. Laban, waking up and finding everyone gone, figured out he'd been cheated and the chase was on.

Jacob got a head start and it looks like he's going to get away and cross a border that would protect him, but he looked into the distance and standing between him, his family and their freedom was the large army of Jacob's brother Esau. Normally, that would have been good news, except that the reason Jacob was in Laban's country in the first place was that he cheated his brother out of his inheritance. With Laban at his back and Esau in front, Jacob sat at the stream dividing the territories between a rock and a hard place.

It was here that the celestial being shows up and they wrestle. Why Jacob needed to pick yet another fight is any one's guess -- especially with an angel. But in the language of story it makes perfect sense. Perhaps the Being was his conscience that he was wrestling with, having to face two adversaries, both of whom he'd cheated. His chickens were coming home to roost, as it were, and he had a lot to lose.

His decision was to face his brother, come what may. Still being cagey, he divided his family and entourage in half and went with the first half to meet his brother to see how things went. He discovered that his brother had in fact forgiven him and all went well. Jacob was able to establish a new homeland for his family. Happy ending to that chapter.

What's curious is the wrestling. Jacob stayed at it til morning. In a modern version, you could imagine him tossing and turning all night long before making a decision of huge importance. In the language of story it's a heavenly being that confronts him. His victory is in making a decision of integrity. Facing the wrongdoing he had done to his brother, who, unlike Laban, had never done any harm to Jacob and did not deserve being cheated. Jacob's victory earned him two things. The first is a blessing which brought with it a new name, Israel. He is the same Israel for whom the country is named to this very day, and you can imagine why this story is a beloved one for the people of that country. Perhaps it was this blessing that had somehow mollified Esau. The other thing Jacob got for his victory was his hip out of joint and a limp that lasted the rest of his life.

There was a play on Broadway a long time ago called, "Your arms are too short to box with God." And while that may be true, if you wrestle with God, you might win, but you will pay a price. There are a lot of stories of Jacob's adventures as a young man getting into trouble and as a wise older man. Something shifted in this encounter and Jacob grew up. He faced himself and God in a profound way and it changed him forever. In the language of story, it was a limp. In the language of faith, it was a conversion.

The Gospel story echoes the theme of persistence with the judge and the woman who pestered him seeking justice. He had no fear of God or respect for anyone -- a perfect candidate for a judge. Notice that he grants her justice because of her persistence, which he should have done anyway. But perhaps it was quicker because of her persistence. And Jesus taught them that God also will grant justice. The widow believed that her actions would wear the judge down and it did. I'm not sure we're supposed to see ourselves wearing God down -- or wrestling as Jacob did -- but perhaps that might not be a bad image.

Jesus often taught his disciples to pray and encouraged them to pray a lot. Prayer works in a way that we don' t understand, nor does it seem possible for us to do so. But it works whether we understand it or not. The trick is that it may not always work out the way we wanted or expect, but being open to the Spirit allows our prayer to take the shape it needs to. And that's often where the limp comes in.

I have a nephew who developed Lyme's Disease when he was in high school. It was misdiagnosed for a long time. There is a window of opportunity for which the disease can be easily treated, but having missed that window, he faced three years of intense fighting to where at one point it looked as though he might die. My sister doggedly chased every lead, fought the insurance companies which denied coverage for the treatments they needed, and yet never gave up. They finally found a proper treatment and several years later Nicholas is fully recovered, though the fear remains that the disease may appear again.

I asked him if he regrets missing the second two years of high school and all the traditional high school activities. It also delayed and impacted his college entrance. He said he did regret it to a degree, but what he's learned about himself and life more than makes up for it. There's a maturity in him that he credits the struggle of fighting his disease. The limp is what he missed, the blessing is what he gained. No one wants to go through that again, but having done so, there is gratitude for the lessons learned and the blessings received.

As a parish family we've observed some milestones recently. The death of our long time member Hubert Pierson who as a six year old sang in the St. George's children's choir -- and was such an important part of the leadership and vitality of the church, he died at age 87. He was bed ridden for many months prior to his death and as I visited him, heard stories about his life, the best of which I cannot tell from here. But his life was full of joys and struggles in various issues, some of which were blessings and some left a limp that went well beyond his hip replacements. Shortly during the prayers of the people, we'll have the pleasure of witnessing the renewal of wedding vows for Nina Nicholson and Kirk Petersen. It's their tenth anniversary and a wonderful story of how they found love after struggles in their own lives. Nina often boasts that she can find anything on the internet, including a husband.

The bottom line is that we all wrestle the angel at some point in whatever form that might take. Conscience, fear, frustration, confusion of how to deal with conflict, and we need to make difficult decisions and choices. Between the stories of Jacob and the widow, the wisdom of our scriptures is to pray, wrestle a little bit, but ultimately trust in God and choose authenticity and integrity in making those decisions.

The gamble is the limp, and there generally will be one. But the blessings will outweigh any limp. You may not get your name changed or a country named after you, but you will face your issues and find your blessings. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

"Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest."

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

From the Gospel of Matthew we heard these words: Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.

Today we observe the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi. Francis died on October 3, 1226 -- some 784 years ago. He is remembered principally for his gentleness, poverty, and devotion to all of God's creation. There are wonderful stories of him seeking alms for people even poorer than himself, restoring dilapidated churches, preaching to anyone who would listen, and even preaching to birds and animals. His love of animals inspired churches to bless animals on his feast day. It's a tradition we gladly continue, and each year marvel at the good behavior of so diverse a congregation of all creatures great and small. Perhaps they've heard of Francis too and pay homage to his memory as well!

One of the remarkable things about Francis is that he came from a wealthy family and ended up renouncing his place in that family and his inheritance so that he could embrace poverty and the spiritual riches he found in it. It was a big change from a young man who was known to enjoy himself lavishly and party with the all the other young nobles in grand style. Between war, personal illness and contact with the poor and lepers, a change overcame him, a conversion to a different way of life and a reordering of his values and priorities.

He started an order of monks equally devoted to prayer, poverty and good works. There were many other monastic orders in the 13th century, but they had become wealthy and Francis believed corrupted by that wealth. Poverty for him was a way of keeping the focus on God and not protecting their assets.

To say the least, he was controversial for the point of view of his family and the larger church who didn't appreciate his criticism or the popular support he received from common folk who wondered if the wealth had indeed corrupted the church. Though we know the date of his death, the date of his birth is believed to be approximately 1181, making him about 45 year old at the time of his death.

St. Francis let go or the very things that most people spend their lives trying to attain -- materially and in security. In letting go, he put his trust in God fully. I believe he is honored for that courage and faith. Most of us cannot do what he did. But perhaps there is a corner in us that admires the ability to let go, and secretly harbors things that we wish to let go of also. Through our smiles and often seemingly worry free lives, there is something we want to let go of -- fears, anger, suspicions, memories, insecurities; something. We want a spiritual freedom that Francis personifies, but letting go is not easy.

Jesus said, "Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." When Francis ran up against his family and church officials who actually expelled him from the town, he was able to do so firmly in the knowledge that he was loved by God, even if it appeared that no one else did and that was enough for him. He felt so connect to that love that he was able to let go of everything else.

Part of the modern problem of letting go of the spiritual burdens we so often carry is that we're not as sure of the love of God that Francis was. Echoes of the images of a vengeful, angry, and punishing God make us really question that loving God. God may love others, but can God love me? That fundamental question cuts to the heart of so much spiritual angst. The answer is a thousand times yes. If we would just believe it.

I fell compelled to talk about the suicides that made the news this week. There were five young men -- teenagers -- who killed themselves this past week because they were gay and were harassed, bullied or humiliated to a degree that they couldn't handle it and felt their only way out was suicide.

Justin Aaberg, age 15 in Minnesota; Asher Brown, age 13 in Houston Texas; Billy Lucas, aged 15 in Indiana; Seth Walsh, aged 13 in California and Tyler Clementi aged 18 in New Brunswick, NJ, at Rutgers University. These deaths represent only a few of the epidemic of teen age suicide in this country alone. Suicide is the third leading cause of death among those aged 15 -- 24 years old behind accident and homicide. The primary reason cited is depression, and that is caused by a variety of circumstances such as divorce, rejection at school, lack of success at school, death of someone close to them, feelings of unworthiness or substance abuse.

The role of a gay identity in this equation is receiving a lot more attention, especially in light of these cases that get such national publicity. Suicides are heart breaking for the survivors and the helplessness of wondering what could have been done to prevent it is matched by the rage of appalling actions that prompted it on the part of bullies, uncaring or insensitive family members or the intolerance of houses of faith, most notably churches.

The simple message of Jesus' love is too often obscured by a horrific message of death and destruction in the guise of Christianity that is judgmental, cruel and simply wrong. I know what it's like to be a gay teenager terrified of discovery and rejection. Watching my every move as young person, what I say, how I say it, in case I might give myself away. Between friends and family, the stakes are very high for people so young and before the internet, there was no one to talk to and so like some of you I carried the burden alone for years and it twisted inside me not knowing how to find an escape.

The internet seems like a mixed blessing in that regard. It allows the youth to know that they are not alone, but also gives a false sense of safety and acceptance that is not universal. For all our progress, young people are still vulnerable to the viciousness of intolerant judgment and possible physical injury.

I often make humor of the fact that I don't like football. I don't like what it stands for or the acceptability of fatality and injury in the name of entertainment. Never the less I played the game in high school all four years and received honorable mention in the state's standings in my senior year. I did not like the game, but it was a place for me to hide because it didn't fit the image of a gay teen.

What made things easier for me was my church. I never felt condemned or judged there. Only love. Now, I didn't want to test it, by telling anyone there I was gay, but at least I didn't hear any anti gay rhetoric from the pulpit. Prayer became my solace and refuge and I took serious the quote we read today from Matthew. "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." Jesus did that for me, still does. I needed it then and I often need it still.

We have a responsibility to ourselves and our children and youth to counteract the message of hate and negativity that is so often heard from some segments of the Christian church. We have to assure everyone who will listen that God's love and acceptance is real, even when the culture's may not be. My heart aches for those young people who took their lives because they never really heard that message. I fear the wave of intolerance that seems to be growing in this country threatening freedom all the while promising it. Being gay is part of a wide spectrum of human sexuality that is a gift of God. It is not a sin and youth who are discovering their sexuality need to know that and love and accept themselves as God does.

The healing ministry here is very important. It's always been important to me because I've always felt a need for it in one way or another. It begins with prayer and knowledge of the love of God. It helps to hear that from a pulpit, it helps to hear it from the lips of a fellow parishioner and it helps to read it in the Bible. But once you hear it and accept it, you have to share it. You never know whose life you might save. Their spiritual life, their emotional life, or perhaps even their physical life.

Bullying is wrong and cannot be tolerated at any level, whether it's in the school yard or in the state house or the US Congress. Abuse cannot be tolerated whether in the church, or the home or the school.

Today I focused on the gay issue because of the recent news items. But even here it's only an example of the kinds of burdens that secrets can be. There are so many other burdens that people carry related to other parts of their lives. Addictions, affairs, debt, self esteem -- so many.

We have so much that needs to be healed and it's fear of judgment from others that keeps it inside us. Even fear in a deeper sense that God will condemn. I believe that's why Jesus said, the truth shall set you free. Some of our truths we embrace and share proudly. Others we hide in fear or shame. But the truth ultimately will set us free. But until that happens, the truths that we hold in fear are extremely burdensome. Begin telling your truth in prayer and eventually with another person. Seek healing, find it and offer healing in the love of God.

Francis learned that a long time ago and still teaches us in his word of love and praise to God who created us and loves us and through Jesus said, "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ