By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, RectorThe blessing of animals is one of the more beloved of our traditions here at St. Georges. What a menagerie of pets we have, living and stuffed, each named and precious in the sight and lives of children and adults. Blessing our pets and other animals is a tradition linked to the feast of St. Francis of Assisi because of the legend of that humble saint preaching to the birds. Other legends have him saving a village from the terror of a wolf simply by preaching to it and converting it through love.
Francis also wrote canticles of praise to God whose love extends even to the lowliest of animals. These canticles echo Jesus' words in the parable of Lilies of the Field and the Birds of the air. Jesus said God has numbered each and knows each one's name. And if God takes the care of these smallest of creatures, how much more will God care for us. Even today Francis is venerated and depicted in portraits and statues with a bird and often a deer in testimony to his love of animals. So we bless animals and especially those who fill our lives with love and who inspire love in us. Many of you know that I own a dog. He's a bad dog. Not mean, just spoiled. Whe he was a puppy I took him to obedience school and the teachers took one look at him and said "We can’t train him, he’s too cute." I was confused at first and we went through the classes, and by the way it was me they trained, not him. Training a dog requires consistency and firmness, neither of which are skills I possess.
I discovered what they meant when said he was too cute to train, since even to this day, ten years later when he does something bad like jumping where he shouldn't jump, taking something from the table or trash can that wasn't meant for him, or barks angrily for attention when I'm on the phone, I just look at him and laugh, because he's too cute.
He's as smart as he is bad. The wheels in that head are always turning and his goal is inevitably how to get food. But he is also observant and understands things. For example, when getting dressed in the morning he knows that if I put on blue jeans he's going for a walk and gets very excited. If I put on a suit or a shirt with a collar he knows I'm leaving, and he's not. Then when I leave home I call out to him to be good, an admonition that both of us know will go unobserved, but at least I feel better going through the motions. And just as each time I leave he slinks over to the couch and looks at me like I'm cruel and abandoning him, he's always there when I arrive home thrilled to see me and all is well again.
Animals teach us about love, unconditional love and acceptance -- even when a treat is not being offered. Cats love in a way I don't understand since I'm a dog owner, but they do love in their own mysterious way. Lizards and snakes, I'm not so sure about! I'll speak about dogs then, since I know them best. They delight in making friends on the street and care nothing for their appearance or demeanor, how they're dressed or any of the other indicators that humans will use to make judgements. The simplicity of their love is a wonder and can serve as a reminder that God loves us as unconditionally and fully, regardless of the what others might find objectionable. So we bless our animals who have brought so many blessings to us.
The disciples of Jesus reported to him that they spotted someone casting out demons in his name. They objected to this since that person was not part of their group, was not following Jesus and had no right to use Jesus' name. The disciples were looking for praise and were no doubt satisfied with themselves for doing the right thing.
But Jesus said not to stop him. If he was doing good, leave him alone. "Whoever is not against us is for us." he said. It's so easy to forget that anyone who does good in Jesus' name IS following him, regardless of their member or party affiliation.
Jesus cautions the disciples from putting stumbling blocks in the way of others, especially little ones. In harsh poetic language he said, "If your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off. If your hand offends you, cut it off. If your eye offends you pluck it out."
Sometimes language has to be extreme get our attention and make us listen. This cannot be a literal saying since the hand, foot and eye have no thoughts independent of the mind and soul. But in a deeper sense it means that if anything or anyone who is close to us causes us to betray our values or inspire us to do something we know to be wrong, we have to detatch, disengage, leave, and possibly denounce it or them.
We teach our children not to listen to their friends at school who might tempt them to steal, smoke, take drugs, have sex too early, or cheat. Stay away from them, we say, which is almost the same as cutting off a hand, foot or eye. And if we tell our children to do this, should we not do the same for ourselves? If there is something or someone in our lives, no matter how dear, who leads us down a path we know is wrong, mustn't we cut them off before we lose our esteem, our integrity, our freedom or possibly our lives? The older we get, the higher the stakes and the more important the decisions, and often the harder the resolve to detach, cut off, or cast into the fire of our decisive action that which leads us to stumble. The harsh poetry of the gospel mirrors the harshness of real choices.
Following Jesus isn't always along an easy road, in fact it's usually very difficult. We may nod at the wisdom of these words, and in our hearts know they are true, but how difficult it is to live into them. What are the stumbling blocks we face? What are the things or the people that are dear to us who put our safety or integrity in jepardy? What secrets do we harbor knowing they damage our souls and peace of spirit, what remedies do we imagine taking and yet don't find the courage or strength to take? We can begin to understand why the Gospel language is so strong -- it has to be. It figuratively cuts us, just as it admonishes us to do so linguistically.
Yesterday was the funeral of a very special woman in the life of the Episcopal Church, indeed in the life of the wider church as well. Many will know the name of Verna Dozier, who died Monday at the age of 88. Verna was an English teacher whose love of children and the Bible inspired her one year to accept the challenge to teach Sunday School in her Maryland Episcopal church several decades ago. Not content with the curriculum, she set about to teach the Bible in a way that enlivened it for her students and ultimately led to a career as a writer, speaker and advocate for lay minstry. Often invited to conventions and workshops, her gentle strength and conviction inspired generations, not only to read the Bible, but delve into it, love it, refresh themselves in it and proclaim its good news. He life was a gift to her students and her classroom extended around the world.
She was asked some years ago to preach at the consecration of Jane Dixon, who had been elected Suffragan Bishop of Washington DC. During her sermon she challenged Bishop Dixon to look deep within herself and find that which is in her that needs to be loved by everyone, and let it die. Like the Gospel lesson the sharpness of it stings at first before the healing quality takes hold. Standing up for something will earn the acclaim of some and the enmity of others. The desire to please all, waters down a message to a blandness and ineffectiveness that accomplishes nothing. And yet how many of us want to be loved, or at least liked by everyone to where the expression of displeasure makes us change and contort trying to please?
Ms. Dozier's challenge, like the Gospel's calls our discipleship to a deeper level. Each of us hears that call in our own way and must follow it in our own way. The ways of one will differ from the ways of another, and yet if we are true to the Gospel and ourselves we will bring healing to this broken world. Like the disciples some may try to stop us or we may try to stop others because they don't follow our way, nor we follow their way. But the proof is in the healing. Jesus saw that clearly, he tried to show the disciples and it's a lesson we can well observe and learn from. Healing begins with love. God's love for us and our love for others. As disciples of Jesus we find ways to live out that life of unconditional love in a complicated world where the answers for each of us are unique and not always clear, but worth looking for and living into. In the process we heal others and are healed ourselves from the soul pain and isolation that often plagues us. And if along the way we forget how to love, if the words and examples of the people around us fail or confuse us, we can look to our pets. They always love us no matter what. So smile, God loves you too, no matter what. Amen.
© 2006 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ
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