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

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

God has called you by name

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

From the book of Isaiah we heard, "I have called you by name, you are mine." From the Gospel we heard the voice from Heaven, "You are my child, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased."

The church calendar we observe highlights different parts of Jesus’ life on different Sundays. Today of course, is the Baptism of Christ. Baptism is a way of belonging. It’s choosing a path that we want to walk, that we believe will lead us to God. Almost every group has a form of Baptism, though they may not call it that. There is an attraction to be part of a group. A time of testing or questions, a time of discovery if the group is indeed a match with the individual and a moment of decision in which questions are asked, promises made, and membership is extended. In Baptism, the medium of this process is water and spirit. It symbolizes a washing away of the past and a new beginning along a new path. In Christian baptism, we believe that Jesus showed us a way that is so compelling, that we want to devote our lives to it. We follow that path in different ways, with different amounts of intensity, but we are all given the same assurance in the love of God, "I have called you by name. You are mine."

Yesterday, I came into the church office early and saw part of the bulletin that wasn’t part of the bulletin I proofread. It was a wrap around notice of my 25th anniversary of ordination. I wasn’t sure I was supposed to see it or not, so after I saw the title, I set it down, but my curiosity got the better of me and I read it. Truthfully, I was trying to fly under the radar with this one. I’ve been celebrating so many things over the last few years that I didn’t want to go to the well once too often! I did, however take the liberty of selecting the hymns - most of which were from my ordination service. And I asked my friend Kenneth Ford to sing one of my favorite hymns as an anthem. And I bought my self something really nice, a vestment that I’ve been debating about for the last fifteen years. It’s a little extravagant, but it’s also very nice. I’ll show it to you and we’ll bless it later after we bless the icons. And there’s a special coffee hour that’s been arranged. So much for flying under the radar!

I felt called to be a priest while I was in High School. I kept it to myself, along with my other secret, because it was not a cool thing. And we always need to be cool. Unlike so many people I talk to, church was always a safe place for me. I did not grow up with a judgmental, angry, or passive aggressive church. It was loving and supporting. I believe children form their views of God based on their early church experiences, and so I have always felt the loving presence of God. That’s one of the reasons I feel it’s so important to provide the environment for our children here that I hope and believe we have.

But I felt that growing up and it was to church I went when struggling with the adolescent angst of being gay. Now, I didn’t tell anyone, but I sat with God in the silence of the church. Sometimes crying in fear for an unknown future, or confusion about why I was different, sometimes angry and in pain, because this was definitely not cool. But never once, in all my existential angst did I ever feel condemned by God, even while I feared it from all others. I had a sense of what Isaiah wrote, as though God was telling me, I have called you by name, you are mine. I often hear that preachers have one sermon they deliver in a thousand ways. If that is true, and I think it has a lot of truth in it, then mine is how much we are loved by God, no matter what. Church was my spiritual home, it was also where I knew everyone and they knew me. I loved being part of it and felt a call to be part of it in this way.

I was ordained 25 years ago this coming Tuesday in Grace Church in Newark. The hymns I selected then and today sang the words that continue to frame my prayer: Be thou my vision, which we just sang is, I know, is a favorite of many of yours as well. One coming up says Come my way, my truth my life, such a way as gives us breath, such a truth as ends all strife, such a life that killeth death. I was 27 years old and on my way.

Twenty five years is a long way to look back, even though it doesn’t seem to have taken that long to get here. As far as I know my journey, while similar in some ways to others, is unique. I’m the only one who has done all the things that I have done. That makes me unique. Just like every one else. We are all unique. All of us are the collection of the experiences that only we have had, and the lessons we’ve learned from them.

We’ve shared parts of the journey with others, but the whole of it is ours alone. For me there have been great stretches of joy and successes. There have also been plenty of stretches of pain, mistakes and sadness. I’ve come to value even the pain, since it has given me a strength I didn’t have before and a compassion that I’ve needed, even glimpses of humility - from a distance.

The nice thing about recollection and retrospective is that we begin to see how our lives seem to go in a direction, even when we don’t see it clearly. I believe our spirits are responding to a call.

It’s a call we’ve heard from our very beginnings. God has called us by name. And we struggle in our various ways to follow. The institutional church has been wonderful to some and yet done horrible damage to others who now reject the face of God those churches portrayed and yet I hope respond to God’s call by another path as part of their healing.

When I baptize a baby I look at the parents and say "Name this child." It’s a way of recognizing that they have been called by name, and that they are God’s forever. We pour the water over their sleeping or screaming heads and clean them up for the trip. It’s symbolic and important, and spiritually real. Our spirits embrace theirs as fellow travelers, and we welcome them to join us.

Jesus was baptized by John and he showed how much God wanted to become one with us, and show us the way. He was and is the light that shines a path of love and truth, of healing and warmth, of justice and inclusion.

Like John, we baptize with water, but Jesus has baptized us with the Holy Spirit and fire. A spirit to love and be loved and a fire that moves us forward. The baptism we enter is a life of commitment that we make to God, to ourselves and to our neighbors. We have an expression about pools - whether we’re dipping our toes in or diving in the deep end. And this too is a baptismal image. That’s how we enter our lives. Cautiously and testing or act first and ask questions later. Whatever our approach to the degree that we consciously live the commitments we make, God will infuse our good works with the Spirit of love and the fire or passion to see it through.

Next week we’ll honor Dr. King and take inspiration from the deep waters of his commitment and the spirit and fire with which God led him in the passion for Civil Rights. This past week I was among some of our members from St. George’s and hundreds of others in Trenton advocating for marriage equality. There was much spirit and fire there too, also for civil rights. The deeper we enter into our baptismal vows the deeper God meets us, and calls us even deeper. Whether it’s the causes we fight for or the relationships we develop God calls us ever deeper. And it’s not a general invitation. He calls us by name. We are His children, and He is well pleased. Amen.

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

All Saints Sunday

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Salted with Fire

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Baptism of Eleanor and Owen

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

First of all, let me welcome the families and friends of Eleanor Paige Matteson and Owen Jace Main. One of the parting words of Jesus to his disciples is to go out into all the nations and baptize in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Among all the work that any church does, there is nothing more important than what we do here today.

Baptism is the welcoming of a person into the family of God in the body of Jesus Christ known as the Church. Vows will made on behalf of these two babies and the rest of us will renew our own baptismal vows. These promises bring us into relationship with God and each other by setting the priorities and values which we want to live into. To worship God. To study scripture and participate in the Eucharist. To resist evil and see forgiveness when necessary. To talk about our faith and proclaim the Gospel. To seek and serve Christ in all persons and love our neighbors. To strive for justice and peace, and respect he dignity of all people.

It’s a tall order. We’re not always able to do it well. Sometimes we don’t do it at all. But sometimes, we’re really quite remarkable in what we’re able to do in the name of God. It’s those moments that we strive for and pray for. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul begs them to open their hearts wide to the teachings he brings and the love of God he proclaims. Today we beg for this also - to open our hearts wide to the love of God and reflect that love by how we live in the world.

I must admit that when I looked at the lessons for today and saw that on a Baptism Sunday we have one from Job, I thought, “Oh no... maybe the Gospel will be better.” But there we have a storm at sea. Not much of an improvement. But given the weather lately, it might be appropriate than I first thought. But the more I thought about these lessons, the more I liked them and thought them perfect for today.

Job is a well known book of the Old Testament in the Wisdom literature. The Wisdom Books are specifically designed to teach lessons and Job is certainly among them. It has a peculiar beginning, in that Satan and God are talking, perhaps over tea, and God is bragging about Job’s righteousness. Satan says, “Of course he’s righteous, everything is going his way. I bet at the first sign of trouble he curses you.” It’s a bet that God was willing to make, and so began a terrible ordeal for Job that included a lot of mental and physical suffering. (This wager doesn’t place God in the most favorable light, I must say - but it sets the stage for the story about to unfold.) Job is visited by three friends and most of the book centers around their conversations. In a gross over simplification, Job’s friends spend a lot of time accusing him of having done something wrong to deserve his suffering. Job continually maintains he’s done nothing wrong. It’s a circular conversation that digs a hole deeper and deeper without ever getting out of it. In the portion we read, God intervenes “out of the whirlwind” quite angrily it seems telling them all that they can’t possibly know all there is to know, and suggests that they shouldn’t even be asking the questions of “why” when things go wrong.

Job seems to be written as a book to explain the existence of suffering but never quite explains it. Rather, the book seems to discourage the question. In the tradition of Wisdom literature, the reader has to wrestle with the answers. Rather than see the cause of suffering in this book, I see the tendency most people have in the face of it. Blame or self pity. We look for reasons to explain the origins of what is already there and spin wheels that might otherwise be used to get us moving beyond the issues.

I’ve seen people who, when confronted with a spouse’s infidelity continually torture themselves by asking “why”. The same questions occurs when a loved one dies, or some tragedy or setback happens. Some questioning is normal and a specific reason may be helpful, but when the answer is simply not knowable, obsessing over it keeps a person paralyzed. There are simply things we will never know and like Job and his friends we can go round and round trying to find answers that don’t exist, or accept reality and look for ways to move beyond the difficulties.

During my recent trip to South Africa, the evidence of suffering is everywhere. The reasons are vast and complex and stretch back generations into a mist of unknowing. There are times when we need to stop looking backward and start to look forward to solutions. In South Africa there are places of hope where that is happening. But there are also too many places where blame and self pity keep people locked in a place of paralysis.

The imagery of God calling out of the whirlwind is wonderful. When we are in times of suffering there is a crashing and confusion in our heads that might as well be a whirlwind. And this is where the story becomes important for a Baptism. We all know that life has joys and struggles. Baptism does not protect any of us from life’s hardships, and it’s no insurance against suffering. It is, however, part of the solution to maneuvering out of the storm. If you sense a segue to the Gospel lesson, yes it’s coming. Whether it’s God calling out of the whirlwind or Jesus calming the storm, the presence of God in the midst of life’s suffering and hardships is essential for us to hold onto to move beyond it.

Faith and prayer work. In these things we find strength and solutions to what confronts us. They do not turn back the clock and undo everything that may have been done, but they give us the strength to move forward and create an environment for healing to occur. In order to tap into these wonderful tools, a person needs guidance and support in developing their own relationship with God and the shape their faith and prayer will take. That’s why it’s so important that people have a community of faith that can help them. It’s into the Christian faith that Owen and Eleanor are being baptized because we believe the promises we’ve received through the Gospels and scriptures of God’s love for us and God’s driving intention that we live life fully and joyfully.

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

An Invitation to Conviction

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

“In the beginning... a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.” The word for “wind” in both Hebrew and Greek also means “spirit”. The Creation story is beautiful and a mystical image of God’s spirit moving all things into being - a spirit of life, a spirit of love, a spirit of light.

The images of spirit and water echo in all the readings today connecting us to the Gospel story of the Baptism of Jesus. The Gospel story of Jesus connects us to the baptism of Marlee Elizabeth Spiro, and to all of our Baptisms. We opened the service by saying that there is one Lord, one faith, one Baptism, one God. The continuation of Baptism is a sign of our unity with past, present and future. It points to a single promise of everlasting life, not only for us individually, but for the world.

The opening of Genesis might even be seen as the Baptism of the earth in creation with Spirit and water. The very act of Baptism is the paradoxically setting apart and bringing together. When we baptize Marlee shortly we are blessing her and setting her apart for her place in the life and service of God in the Christian tradition. We are bringing her together with the worldwide community who shares a basic belief in God and takes the teaching of Jesus as its guiding principles. A community who shares in the promise of eternal life and understands the resurrection of Jesus to be the proof of that promise. In all the world there are many traditions, and this one is ours. And into this tradition we baptize Marlee. We set her apart and we join with her in community.

In the Gospel lesson, John the Baptist stands at the Jordan River preaching a life of repentance and renewal. Repentance means to turn direction and in this case turn from ways that are harmful or painful to ways that reflect God’s love and justice. The ritual cleansing of the water symbolizes the washing away of the past regrets and ushers in a new beginning. And in this beginning, the Sprit of God blows over the waters to make it so.

When Jesus approached John on the banks of the Jordan, he left us a puzzle. Or perhaps it was the writer of the Gospel of Mark that left us a puzzle, namely, what was Jesus repenting? As he was being baptized what in him was being washed away?

There are a couple answers that are debated. One is that it was not his sins, but ours being washed away. Another response is that since the act of baptism is a bringing into community, that Jesus entered this action as a visible demonstration of becoming one with us in our spiritual work. There are certainly more, but I like the one that recalls the connection that Jesus himself later makes between John the Baptist and the prophet Elijah. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus says, “If you are willing to accept it, (John) is the Elijah who was to come.” (Mt. 11:14)

The prophet Elijah anointed his successor Elisha in the presence of his students demonstrating that his ministry was at an end and that Elijah would continue in his place.

On the banks of the Jordan John, in the image of Elijah, anoints Jesus in full view of all the people gathered there as the one who was to come after him, the thong of whose sandal he was not worthy to tie. It was a transfer of authority, a setting apart for the continuation of God’s work in the world. John had always said that someone else was coming and that he would have to decrease as the One is to come, must increase. This Baptism of Jesus was a public demonstration that John’s words had come to pass.

So, why this long explanation? Because we’re doing the same thing here. This is how our Great Teacher did it, and this is how we’re doing it. It’s a little too chilly to find a river, in fact some day it might be fun to stand on the banks of the Passaic, but not today.

Marlee, we need you. We’re anointing you and baptizing you, not that you have anything to repent yet, but to join in a life that commits to faith, justice and peace. A life of integrity among people, and grounding for yourself. We have a promise from Jesus that the Spirit of God is with us and always will be. The same spirit that blew over the waters in Creation stirs in us and connects us to God. We are made of water and the spirit carries us also. Join us in our witness of God’s love and the desire to do all that we can to bring the light of God into a world that often chooses darkness. We’re not perfect. As a community or as a worldwide church. Even the most casual glance at our record shows our mistakes. Some of them have been enormous and caused a lot of pain. But we also have the legacy of spiritual greatness and amazing acts of kindness, generosity, and integrity. We continually pray that God strengthens us in what we do well, and guides us away from the mistakes we make and set us back on the right path. One of the promises made by Jesus is that forgiveness is always available if we’re wise enough to see our mistakes and want to change.

Each of the Gospels has a version of what happens next that don’t quite agree on some details. In this lesson, however, when Jesus came out of the water he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove on him.

It’s yet another sign of a new beginning and the presence of God.

In the second lesson we read today from Acts, Paul meets up with some people who he saw as disciples or followers, presumably of Jesus. He asked them if they had received the Holy Spirit and they didn’t know what he was talking about. Having been baptized by John, they only went so far. When Paul baptized them in to the name of Jesus, they had the felt the fullness of the Spirit and according to the lesson began to speak in tongues. Speaking in tongues plays an important role in the work of Paul, and yet in one place he says that is a particular gift only given to some. That others have other gifts, but speaking in tongues isn’t for everyone. I believe there are two uses of the phrase “speaking in tongues”. One is the literal vocalizing of strange dialects that we can witness even today. But that’s one of the gifts that Paul says is given to some, not all.

Another way to read that phrase is the speaking in a language that is available to everyone. In the scriptures speaking in tongues becomes an analogy for speaking with conviction. When we’re uncertain of something we’re talking about we pause or stutter and in different ways present a very unconvincing argument. When we speak with conviction, there is no hesitation. When we speak from the heart, words are there and sometimes words come from places that can only be inspired by the Spirit of God. When we speak from conviction our whole being is involved. Our heart, our mind and our body.

Baptism is an invitation to conviction. To grow in faith and speak with conviction about it’s place in our lives. To take seriously the scriptures and what they have to teach us. To take seriously the fellowship and traditions that we vow to uphold. To take seriously our opportunity to wrestle critically with matters of faith that challenge us. To take seriously others who share this road with us. To see Christ in them and see in all people no matter what faith they follow the imprint of the love of God. We’re baptized into a faith that calls us to deepen and grow, to learn and question, to struggle and challenge and when we’re tired feel the wind of God at our backs. The Spirit of God is always with us, guiding us and giving us life. Talk about it with conviction. Welcome Marlee and breathe deep the Spirit of God. Amen.

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

The Wheat and the Weeds

By Mary Davis, Seminarian Intern

Matthew 13:24-30; 36-43

There really ought to be an ecclesiastical law that says, ‘thou shall not read scriptures which reference “weeping and gnashing of teeth” on Baptism Sundays!’ And yet, this reading from Matthew is our appointed Gospel lesson for today, and I’ve wrestled with it a great deal, knowing that today is Will’s and Lilyanna’s baptism day. The author of Matthew uses this, his favorite expression of judgment and punishment - “weeping and gnashing of teeth” - no fewer than 6 times in his book, and this particular reference, as we heard this morning, is included inside the explanation for the parable of the wheat and weeds.

Jesus knew a little something about wheat and weeds, and the particular weeds Jesus was speaking about in this parable, were not dissimilar to the weeds growing up in my own yard, fed by water, sunlight and soil, same as the healthy seeded grass. They exist side by side and at times compete for space. Truth is, evil exists and just as there are individuals, institutions and establishments that feed and sustain us just like wheat, and there are also individuals, institutions and establishments that drain the life out of us just like weeds.

Our human inclination is to sort and categorize people, just as the slaves in Jesus’ story wanted to gather up the weeds and pluck them out. Although I do not know much, if anything, about the organic nature of wheat and weeds, (and if I did, I probably would not be standing here right now), I do know a little something about wheat and weeds in the figurative sense. I grew up in Texas, well, actually, I moved to Texas from the coal-mining hills of Kentucky when I was 9 years old. And my transition to life in Texas was not an easy one. There was much to learn, and in fact Texas offered me an entirely new culture and they spoke a different language. I learned that you either wore the burnt orange of the Texas Longhorns, or you were a die-hard “gig ‘em” Aggie fan. I learned that you were either “From” Texas (meaning, you were born there) or you were not. And I learned that you were either a bible-believing Christian from a so-called “Bible Church”, or you were not. Even though I converted into a Longhorn fan, most of the time, I fell into the “not” categories in Texas – I was not “From” Texas, born and bred there, and I was not was I from a ‘true’ Bible church, but instead I was from a strange Protestant liturgical and sacramental church, the Episcopal Church. I was an outsider, and I must say, it was not uncommon for me to be lumped into the category of weeds or to hear references to “weeping and gnashing of teeth” applied to outsiders such as me.

Now, in order to understand this story further and on a deeper level, apart from the experience of wheat and weeds, we also have to look closer into the world of the parable, which is the container, the structural Tupperware, if you will, of the wheat and weeds. To appreciate what a parable is, first of all, let’s look at what a parable is not. A parable is the opposite of a myth. A myth serves to resolve contradiction and paradox, and assumes that reconciliation is not only a possibility, but a reality. [1] In this summer season full with vacations and travel, the myth of Disneyworld, comes to my mind. I’ve been there a couple of times with my family and noticed that there’s no doubt or subtlety to the mythic spirituality at Disneyworld which is made complete each night with a Jiminy Cricket led meditation of fireworks and the assurance that indeed “all of your dreams will come true.”

Parable, on the other hand, is not about covering up contradictions or blemishes or paradoxes, but instead it is all about those contradictions. For example, Jesus tells parables about a world where the “first will be last” and the “meek will inherit the earth,” as well as where, as today’s text reads, “an enemy [will] sow weeds among the wheat.” We live in a parabolic world where yes, wheat and weeds do exist side by side, though we crave and hope for a mythic world where neighbors live in peace and treat each other with respect.

Contextually, when Matthew’s Gospel was written, around 85 AD, the tensions between the Jewish establishment and the newly emerging Christian Church were particularly bitter, and Matthew’s harsh words for those who questioned Jesus’ legitimacy and wisdom came out of that parabolic community existence. Clearly, in that time, the notion of community was a parable, a contradiction and competition between wheat and weeds, and I’d like to suggest that today, we too experience the same thing, community as a parable in action.

So what does this mean, a “parable of community?” I first tripped over this idea while doing some background reading in anticipation of my upcoming 2 week pilgrimage to Taize, France. I am heading to Taize this Thursday, which is an ecumenical religious community 300 miles south west of Paris. It was founded in 1940 by a Swiss Protestant by the name of Roger Schutz, or Brother Roger, as he was known. The monastic life at Taize includes Catholic, Lutheran and Anglican members, and their meditative worship style is based on the notions of forgiveness, reconciliation and God’s presence. These primary ‘sources’ or monastic rules – which are what life at Taize is built around - structure everything the brothers do at Taize and as well as in their missions around the world. But Taize is not an example of a mythic community, isolated from the world in some picture perfect holy existence, “where all your dreams come true” – the Brothers there live the life of the parable, just like you and I do. They live out the Henri Nouwen’s definition of community – “As soon as you have community, you have a problem. . . ‘Community is the place where the person you least want to live with always lives.’” [2] And, when my pilgrimage leader once asked one of the Taize brothers how it is possible for all of the brothers at Taize to live in community, one of the brothers responded with a wise smile, “If we didn’t have the Prayer three times a day, we would kill each other.” [3] To live in community means that we are dependent on the very thing that causes us stress, the wheat and the weeds together. Since no one is a Christian alone, this is the parable of community.

Today’s baptismal celebration fits right in with today’s Gospel parable, because not only does this ritual mark these children as “Christ’s own forever”, a promise of God’s never-ending presence, and initiate them into both the St. George’s and the worldwide Christian community of faith. Baptism also marks Will and Lilyanna with the sign of the cross – which is a sign of contradiction that reminds us that we must die to live - and that even as much as we love and protect our children, their growth and development - physically, emotionally and spiritually - involves letting go.

Our wider Christian community is certainly not immune from the parabolic nature of life either. We need not look any further than our own Episcopal Church and our anticipation of The Lambeth Conference as on-going evidence of this. Our communion is united by our marks in baptism as “Christ’s own forever” and yet, we are divided by human judgment and an almost innate drive to separate the wheat from the weeds. Reading a quote this week by Bishop Robinson gave me some honest and true perspective, and some hope. He said, “I believe in my heart that God’s love is not only inclusive, but also extravagant” and it seems to me that only a God-given extravagant love can create communal unity; unity as a divine gift, not a human creation.

So, the beauty of reading this Gospel lesson today, on this baptism day, is that it is symbolic of our lives as a parable. We live the tensions and questions of our individual lives inside community, and within our community exists yet another set of tensions and questions. Our lives in community mean that on some days we are like the weeds in the garden – masquerading as wheat and drawing life from others – while still, on other days, we are the ones who support and sustain others in our community. Judgment should not come from our human desire to categorize and exclude, but only through God’s extravagant love, which can and will feed us completely and eternally, turning our communities into places of forgiveness, reconciliation, and God’s presence.

Amen.

[1] Anderson, Herbert and Edward Foley. Mighty Stories, Dangerous Rituals (John Wiley and Sons: San Francisco), 1988, pp. ix-xv.
[2] Nouwen, Henri J.M. with Michael J. Christensen and Rebecca J. Laird, Spiritual Direction:Wisdom for the Long Walk of Faith (San Francisco: Harper Publishers) 2006, p. 113.
[3] Rev. Jeff Markay, email correspondence, 7.10.08.

© 2008 Mary Davis

The Baptism of Phoebe and Sienna

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Of all the Biblical stories to be scheduled for this day of Baptisms, the sacrifice of Isaac is probably the worst. For those of you not familiar with our system, and perhaps still in shock over the appallingly bad taste of this lesson, let me assure you that it was not by choice but by assignment that this lesson appears.

Our system of readings puts scripture on a three year cycle so that at the end of this time, most of the Bible will have been read and presumably taught about. It's just our luck of the draw that we read about a father being commanded to sacrifice his only son in a rather grim fashion. If the story line of fathers sacrificing sons sounds familiar, this lesson is used in frequent parallel with God's sacrifice of Jesus.

However, before we get carried away with some of the gritty details, let me offer that the word "sacrifice" also means "gift." In Biblical terms the gift of one's life often included death, but I'd like to suggest that the giving of one's life can take other forms.

The four parents of Phoebe and Sienna have sacrificed your lives to have these children and raise them. You have given yourselves to this care and very sacred work. You have declined the many other possibilities open to you, so that you could raise these children. Whether professional options, or traveling, or material possessions -- time spent on yourselves or in any one of so many ways you could have lived your lives without children, you gave those up. You sacrificed them to bring these new lives into the world. You have made commitments to them, to your spouses and families, to the communities of which you'll be part, and to yourselves that you will do this work. And it is a sacrifice.

I would invite you to consider also the possibility that you are offering the sacrifice of your children to the good of the world of which they are now a part and will grow deeper as time goes on.

The Poet and priest John Donne wrote about hearing the funeral bells ringing after the death of a person that no one knew. He mused, "For whom the bell tolls? It tolls for thee." We are so connected to each other that our world is comprised by every living being and it is impacted and diminished by the death of every human being, regardless of who knows them. We ring bells for death, but also for happier occasions like weddings and birth and if we had them to ring, we'd ring them today and proclaim to the world that it has been enriched by the Baptism of these two babies.

Consider that you have made a gift of these babies to the world. As they grow and become young women and take their place in the world, the gifts and talents God has bestowed on them will become more evident and indeed enrich the world.

At some point all parents have to let go of their children, and allow them to make their own way in the world, to make their own mistakes, follow their dreams and meet their own challenges. If I were to ask you now, it would probably seem like a long time before you begin to let go of your children to let them become the adults they are meant to be.

If I were to ask your parents, I suspect they would say it's a lot shorter than you realize. Their sacrifice has been to give the four of you to the world to bring hope and good news and new life into it. Your sacrifice will be to give your children to the world.

Abraham's willingness to give Isaac's life gives a vivid image to the reality of how painful it can be to let go of a child and let them enter into a life that God has called them.

Fortunately for this sermon, the Gospel lesson gives us a much nicer portion of scripture to deal with and far more appropriate. In this lesson Jesus talks about how important it is to show welcome. Welcoming the strangers is a common theme in the Bible and the connection is often made that whoever welcomes a stranger may be welcoming angels unawares. And in another case, a Latin inscription on a building at my alma mater translates to say "A stranger comes, Christ comes." The rewards to welcoming others is to be enriched by the gifts that they are, even more than any gifts they might bring. And Jesus continues to say that "Anyone who gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple - truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward."

I'm sure you give them more than a cup of cold water, and I'm sure that the rewards you feel have already outweighed any sacrifice you made to welcome them into the world. The love of God is like that too. As St. Francis said, "In giving we receive."

God's love welcomes us and brings us into community. Sacrifices we make in the name of God, or in the love of God are both gift to others and reward. Not only do we bring Sienna and Phoebe to the water, we sacrifice them through the act of Baptism by which they "die to sin" as St. Paul says so that they may be resurrected to new life. With al the possible ways you could have chosen to raise these children, you have chosen a Christian path. We initiate them into the life of worship, service, sacrament and discovery. We renounce evil and its manifestations, we embrace the life and teaching s of Jesus, we take hope in His resurrection and hold to the promise that we too will have everlasting life in the love of God, whatever shape that takes. We promise to seek forgiveness when we have made mistakes and to tell others about this faith that means so much to us -- because it just might make the difference in someone else's life that they're looking for.

Today we welcome Phoebe and Sienna in the name of Christ, we offer their lives to God mindful that the world can be a dangerous place. It can also be a beautiful place ful of love and God's grace. Wherever their lives take them, they will know that they are loved and precious in the sight of God, their parents and the community of saints that welcomes them this day. We witness the vows their godparents make and renew these vows ourselves. They are reminders just in case along our life's path, we have forgotten them or let them get a bit rusty. Our sacrifice, our gift, is to live the life God has given us, in a way that honors God's love and reflects it to the world.

Amen.

© 2008 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Claiming our identity as a progressive church

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The lessons today give us images, metaphors really, for the kingdom of God. In the Gospel of Mark the Kingdom is like seed scattered on the ground which grows in a way that is not known to people, but through the power of God. Or again like a small mustard seed which becomes the largest of all shrubs with strong branches able to house the birds. These are simple images but have a power in their own right to draw our attention to the life giving and abundant love of God. We don't understand it, but we can see it at work and make a home in it.

The arboretum in the first lesson from Ezekiel didn't make out quite so well, however. In this case the tree which grew large enough to house many creatures and provide shade over vast amounts of land actually rivaled the Garden of Eden. This tree, representing Egypt, was cut down however because of its pride and belief that it rivaled God in power and majesty. The prophet Ezekiel was to remind the people of Israel that it is God who creates and sustains, and those who are not rooted in God will topple and to quote contemporary wisdom, the bigger they are, they harder they fall.

When we put these botanical lessons side by side they witness that while we might aspire to be the trees, we are in fact the birds who find shelter in the loving, embracing branches God extends through grace and love.

These lessons are helpful for us this morning as we bless and baptize two sets of twins. We are guiding them to seek and accept God's love and shelter, to nest in that protection without the need to usurp the tree of its height and strength. We as a community of faith are asking them to share the abundance space among the strong branches with other birds and creatures of God who will make their homes too. One of the advantages of a parable is that you can keep going on and on with the metaphor. It's tempting, but I'll refrain.

But I will use this metaphor as a jumping off place to talk about something that I believe we should be paying attention to. Just as the branches of God's love shades and protects the many creatures of God so must the church as a community reflecting God's love. We're blessing Max and Sam and baptizing Noel and Lily into the Christian church within the Episcopal tradition. It's a tradition that at its core has embodied widely differing views on theology, mission and social justice. But we have always used the tension between us to find creative solution or at least peaceful resolution.

This day in Columbus, Ohio, the National Church continues into the second week of what is a ten day convention accomplishing legislative duties. Most of these tasks will have little impact on the life of the church but among the larger issues is one that may very well separate the American Episcopal Church from its fellowship with the worldwide Anglican Communion. That issue is about human sexuality, and more specifically whether or not to ordain openly gay and lesbian people to the priesthood and even more importantly, the Episcopacy. There is also a resolution to create ceremonies to bless same sex unions.

This denomination has long been known for open dialogue, but unfortunately has become too often part of the national trend toward galvanized intolerance. Strong views spoken with uncompromising intent. Judgmental opinions vilifying opponents on both sides of any question. Threats to walk out are made if the vote goes to allow gay and lesbian bishops. People in the pews are also waiting to hear, some making their own plans to walk away if the voting goes one way or another.

I must remind everyone that this is not new territory for the Episcopal Church. Threats of division have been made before: the ordination of women beginning 30 years ago, and before that Civil Rights, before that women's suffrage, before that abolition and before that revolution with England. As a denomination we have weathered each of these threats. This time however, it looks uncertain.

Prejudice has always used scripture as a weapon, and our ability to take the same scriptures and come up with entirely different interpretations is staggering. The rhetoric surrounding the debates becomes dehumanizing and violent. Death threats are made to those who vote in favor or gay ordination. Much of the debate on consecrating gay men and lesbians to the Episcopate began three years ago when Gene Robinson, an openly gay man in a relationship was elected the Bishop of New Hampshire. Death threats did accompany the news and controversy to the point that when Gene went to his own consecration, he did so wearing a bullet proof vest surrounded by FBI agents working undercover for his security.

We sing National Anthems speaking of equality and justice for all, and this reality mocks that ideal. Long before 9/11 terrorists have been in this country as KKK, organized crime, vigilantes and others. The church as institution has to recognize its part in hate mongering and inspiring violence both spiritual and physical against its own members and those outside its fold. Only when we recognize it can we move forward into the Kingdom God calls us to co-create. Our very baptismal vows call us to repent when we are wrong and strive for reconciliation. All of us need to take seriously the voice of faith within us. I mean our own voice.

A while back I heard a poet read a work call "Question Authority." He based this poem on a bumper sticker he'd seen. It's been around a while and occasionally you still see them. He noted that it's important to question authority and not follow blindly. The public can be lied to, and deceived by leaders we want to trust. Questioning authority can be seen as unpatriotic or rebellious. Whole groups can be manipulated with false information, and questioning that same authority is important to validate the information, its sources, conclusions and actions. This is true regardless of governmental or ecclesiastical authorities. However, the poet went on to talk of the danger of questioning only. We might become cynical or use the lack of trust to justify taking no actions whatsoever. It becomes easy to sit back and shoot down any opinion without offering one in response. And that was where the poet took his listeners. To take upon themselves the responsibility to find the information, voice and opinions, and to take actions. To stand up for something. Echoing the words of Malcolm X he said those who stand for nothing will fall for anything. So don’t just question authority, speak with it.

It's into this spirit and dialogue I would like to venture. St. George's is a church that has long broken with conventional ways of doing things. The history of this parish shows efforts and accomplishments in areas of racial justice and equal housing in this and surrounding neighborhoods. We were progressive acting on the role of women in the church, having elected the first woman vestry member in the diocese many years ago, later sponsoring one the first women in the country ordained a priest. One of our members is currently the first woman chancellor of the Diocese. In electing my predecessor as rector, you called the first openly gay man who was ordained. All these "firsts" made successive accomplishments easier. We've sponsored several gay and straight men and women for ordination to the Diaconate and Priesthood, and have a couple more on the launch pad. By the time my election as rector rolled around four years ago, that you elected another openly gay man amid no controversy or fanfare, in a way that could be called "ho-hum" is a sign of progress.

St. George's has taken its prophetic role seriously if not fully articulating it. We have lived it. I want us now to own it publicly and fully. We are a progressive and liberal Christian church. We think critically and strive to make informed decisions in our theology and mission. We do not hold that the Bible is the inerrant word of God. It is the living word of God. Inspired by faith and written by people living in a world they tried to make sense of just as we do today. Their writing is wisdom born of their experience and faith. Its praise and worship is sincere for its context and instructive for us as a basis on which to understand our own world and issues. We have brains and we have voice. We cannot abdicate either in our faith or practice.

Earlier this week in a conversation with one of our wardens, he mentioned that he would be away at the graduation of his nephew. He mentioned that his nephew went to a Christian College. Well, so did I. The college I went to was Holy Cross in Massachusetts, a college founded by Jesuits in the Roman Catholic tradition. But you and I both know that's not what was meant. And I believe that's the sad crux of our dilemma. All too often, the word "Christian" in today's world refers more commonly to a fundamentalist, conservative branch of Christianity. While I will not deny that they are Christian, I will not stand for them denying that I am. The liberal, progressive church has abdicated much by way of word and symbol to another part of the Christian faith to the point where the loudest voice in the national pulpit belongs to the fundamentalists and radical conservatives. We have to speak out with a voice that balances and demonstrates that Christians can disagree and still claim their faith in the same God.

This parish is such a place. I believe we have a mission to speak out and take a place in the open public for those who question the authority and have the courage and preparation to speak with it. Further, to recognize that even then are the thoughts and ideas are wrestled with and conclusions arrived at, that even members in our own parish will not be of one mind on all given topics. We have members who are liberal and conservative. And that makes us traditionalists. So if anyone asks you if you are a traditionalist, tell them proudly, yes!

Claim words and symbols that are common property to all people of faith and especially those that are Christian. Debate them, use them and by all means witness to them.

I have been in gatherings that get a little heated when some will wonder how I can be gay and allowed to be a priest. Others who are gay will ask how I can be part of an institution that denies our full rights; questions the legitimacy of our being. The answer to both who wonder how I live in what appears to them to be a contradiction is that I am a priest of God exercising my ministry in an institution that is far from perfect but trying hard to be faithful. My faith and ministry transcends denominational boundaries. I worship a God who loves me as I am even as I live among people who may not be able to. God can make sense out of the contradictions and constructs that bring us to battle each other. That's part of my story.

The world is full of contradictions and always has been. After the service today there's a forum to be held sponsored by the Absalom Jones Committee led by one of the authors of a book about slavery in the North called "Complicity: How the North Promoted, Prolonged and Profited From slavery." No doubt we’ll hear about conflicts and contradictions. Today is Father's Day. Many people have conflicted and complicated relationships with their fathers.

We cannot escape these realities or the histories of them. We have got to meet them head on, openly and honestly even when it's hard and painful. Support each other when we need strength and repent when we have made errors. As Paul says, we walk by faith, not by sight.

Shortly we'll bless Sam and Max. They are from an interfaith family where their father is Jewish and their mother Christian. They are not being baptized but receiving a blessing. As they grow we will support them in their journey towards weaving together the two rich traditions they are part of which can be a model for the rest of us. When we renew our own baptismal covenant, bless Sam and Max and baptize Noel and Lily we are not sparing them from the complexities of the world, but giving them the strength and consolation of a vigorous faith in which to proclaim God’s truth with boldness and minister God’s justice with compassion. Amen.

© 2006 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ