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