David and Absalom

By the Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The lesson from Samuel this week continues the David stories that we've had for several weeks. This one, however, takes place many years after the segments from the past few weeks. By the time this story takes place the furor over the relationship between David and Bathsheba is long over, and they have, in fact, had a second child named Solomon. It needs to be remembered that as the King of Israel, David had many wives and many children. Bathsheba comes through the stories as one he truly loves, but it was the role of the King to be fruitful, and he was.

The name of David's third son was Absalom. Absalom's mother, Maachah, was the daughter of a neighboring King, the marriage between her and David no doubt political, and the son was a safe third and most likely not very noticed. As he grew he apparently became exceedingly handsome and charismatic. He became ambitious too. Maachah and David had another child as well, a daughter named Tamar. She too was beautiful. Trouble began when David's oldest son and heir, Amnon, became obsessed with his half sister Tamar and raped her. Biding his time, the calculating Absalom waited two years before taking his revenge for his sister and killed Amnon. He fled north believing that he could not be forgiven for killing David's favorite son and heir. Then a curious thing happened. Absalom became aware of his charisma among the hill people of the northern kingdom and it created an ambition to be king in his father's place. He continued to be calculating and after much posturing and intrigue gathered an army that posed a serious threat to David. His army moved south toward Jerusalem and it was large enough to force David to leave his capital city. He was able to gather his own army and the civil war began between father and son. During this war, as we read to day, Absalom was fleeing from the battle he started to lose and was caught in the low hanging branch of tree by the long hair of his head of which he was so proud. His enemies, David's men, came upon him and killed him, thus ending the war. Rather than be elated, David mourned in agony. "O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom, would that I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son."

In that moment, David, who had killed an innocent man for the sake of his lust and foolishness - David who had felt the love of God and the forgiveness for his wrongs, reflected the love of God for his own son who had killed and been guilty of vanity, ambition and ruthless foolishness. The focus of this story is still David who came to know both sides of love and forgiveness.

That which was given to him by God, was given by him to his own son. God overcame David's betrayal and David learned to overcome Absalom's. The prophet Nathan had predicted the pain David would endure those years ago when David schemed to get Bathsheba. The prediction came true with agonizing accuracy.

In the Gospel Jesus tells his disciples that he is the "Bread of Life." Anyone who eats of this bread will never hunger. It's a spiritual hunger that we have that is satisfied by this bread. We reenact it weekly in the Eucharist and look to this consecrated bread to radiate from us the nourishment we need to live our lives. It's a focal point of all that Jesus did and taught, and all that God continually offers us through prayer and grace. The Word of God incarnate in Jesus becomes the love of God incarnate in bread which we eat.

Young Absalom looked for nourishment in the rush of power and his own glory. Something in him was missing that he fatally believed could only be satisfied by taking a crown that was not his. Perhaps it was another form of vengeance for his sister's rape when David didn't even punish Amnon for his cruelty. Perhaps Absalom's disillusionment in his father corrupted into a rage large enough for war, or perhaps it was simply his vanity run amuck. In any event, there is no indication that his actions were fueled by a conviction that his leadership would benefit the people of God more than his Father's. His coup was motivated for selfish reasons, and had nothing to do with a desire to fulfill the responsibilities of a leader of his people.

Again there is a comparison to be made between David whose selfishness was repented and Absalom's whose was not. David became nourished by God's love especially when he learned that his own vanity and self importance was empty. Who knows what would have happened to Absalom if he had lived to feel David's forgiveness. Perhaps it would have melted his anger and ambition, and nourished him deeper.

If these difficult times we live in are to have any redeeming quality, it has to be in the soul searching it inspires. Books are popping off the stands as Monday morning quarterbacks analyzing the greed, deceit and mismanagement at all levels of government and society for the financial collapses and recession.

People lie and cheat to gain something. Power, money and love seem to be the commodities that people seek and will do anything for. There is a hunger and thirst for these things that everyone has, but what is the cost for integrity? In the final act, how nourishing is that which is gained through deceit? The hunger for ambition, power or conquest of any stripe is insatiable because in the end it promises satisfaction, but is not nourishing. It's ultimately spoiled by the knowledge that it's not real. Like Absalom, tyrants the world over reach their political goals, but what an empty achievement it is when their paltry reward is their own distorted sense of glory, rather than the good they can do the people over whom they have taken responsibility. And they always have to watch over their shoulder for the next ambitious person who wants their place.

The nourishment Jesus offers is a full satisfaction in the spirit born and sustained in love and respect. Achievements are certainly still pursued but for God's glory in the good that can be done in service to others rather than in the fleeting illusion of personal glory. If Absalom had fully succeeded in taking David's throne, what then? Would he have been satisfied and content with the taking care of the administrative responsibilities of authority? I wonder if he thought past the past the empty cheers of the crowd as he stood before them?

The question of nourishment is an important one. Where do we look for it and where do we find it? In his epistle to the Ephesians, Paul gives clear advice of how to behave toward others that includes speaking the truth in love, even expressing anger with out letting it turn to sin. There are appropriate ways to be angry with another person that still respects their humanity. So often we want to justify our anger and salve our pain through the humiliation of the other person. It's another form of looking for nourishment through the empty satisfaction of appeasing our pain through the pain of the one that hurt us. Time and again the answer comes back that real nourishment comes through love. Even when we're angry, love and respect provide the bridge between two sources of pain to a satisfying resolution.

Absalom looked for his nourishment in revenge and validation. The ancient Midrash of the Rabbis - their collection of teaching on this subject - likens Absalom's long hair with his vanity. In the end that's what caught him up and on which he hung and because of which he died.

The extreme lesson of Absalom's life has a lot to teach us in our own behaviors. The patience and love we show, when we're joyful and even when we're angry is a fruit of the Spirit of God. It is, in the Gospel language, the bread of life on which we can feed. With it we live and do not die. Because of his anger and vengeance, Absalom seems to have died long before he hung from the tree. An emptiness grew in him and he didn't know how to satisfy it. He ran toward illusions and suffered needlessly because of it.

We take a lot of care to prepare the altar and consecrate the bread and wine for communion. We do this because of its importance. It is and signifies a lot more than wheat and water or fermented grape juice. It is a tangible reminder and hope of the bread of heaven dwelling in it and in us as we share it. We may still want to go to brunch after church to nourish our bodies, but we do so in the knowledge that our spirits are nourished in the love of God, the bread of Heaven. Amen.

© 2012 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Trinity Sunday

By the Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

It’s been said that God is not a puzzle to be solved but a mystery to be explored. There are no accurate answers to the questions, "Who is God?" or "What is God?" So many books have been written and all fall short. Far many more create God in their own image returning the favor from the book of Genesis.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus says, "God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him." That’s very nice to hear, since much of the rhetoric we hear on the airwaves is the reverse. The picture of God that many draw and many others see is one of a god that condemns. That is not the God I preach about. The God I know is love, and creativity and joy. A God who makes whales for the sport of it and who heals people for the love of them. The only ones he chastises are the ones who condemn others. Those who have somehow fallen short or missed their mark are not condemned by him but invited deeper into the mystery of His love.

How do we describe such a God? The early Christian theologians inherited the Greek models of philosophy and applied these to Christian doctrine. The methods of Plato and Aristotle found their ways into the Christian centers of Antioch and Alexandria in present day Turkey and Egypt. They wrestled long and hard with the questions of God’s divinity and humanity for decades forging a formula that took a couple centuries and coming up with a doctrine we know as the Trinity, in honor of which we name this Sunday. God the Creator, Jesus the human redeemer, and the Holy Spirit of wisdom - feminine in the Greek words of scripture, but curiously masculine in the English translations.

All separate and all the same. All confusing, all the same. And yet, in the midst of the confusion a reality surfaces that cannot be described, but only felt through a resonance of the spirit.

I feel God’s presence and love in glimpses of grace and have throughout my life. I suspect you have too or else you wouldn’t be sitting here. But try to describe it and we fall short. Isaiah described a wonderful vision of heaven. The Hebrew scriptures aren’t full of theology but they are full of stories, pictures and visions. They speak their truth and wisdom through the language of myth and tradition. In Isaiah’s vision he sees God sitting on a throne not in heaven, but in the temple. For the Israelites God lived in the Temple created by Solomon and destroyed by the Babylonians. But in his vision, Isaiah could still see it and God on the throne in it with angels flying about. One of the angels took a burning coal and putting it on his lips created that burning need to proclaim. And when the question came about whom they would send to the people - Isaiah uttered, "Here am I, send me."

It was a moment of conviction and transformation. A moment of clarity and determination. The discovery of something so profound and burning within to let others know: God is here and God does care. The mysterious distance of lofty thrones in Isaiah can be contrasted to Paul’s use of the word "Abba" in his Epistle to the Romans. He said, when we cry, "Abba! Father!" it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God. But the translators missed it again. "Abba" doesn’t mean "father," it means "daddy." Imagine, they could not bring themselves to translate a word so intimate, so loving and tender. I got a new appreciation for the word "Abba" when I saw a little Hasidic boy in Brooklyn jump into his father’s arms and call out "Abba." Then it made sense to me. The simplicity of the word and the closeness we are invited to share in God’s love. But how do you describe it in theological terms? We can’t. We can only tell it in story. Imprecise. Sometimes messy, and usually slanted, but oddly clear.

Nicodemus scratched his head trying to figure out just what Jesus meant by saying we had to be born again. I scratch my head on that one too. "Born again" is a loaded phrase. It’s right up there with "God". What does it mean? And is someone only born again once?

I’ve had two experiences that I could describe as being "born again." The first was at the age of 23 when I told another person for the first time that I was gay. In that one simple statement the years of pent up fear, self hate, and confusion exploded in powerful sobs that washed away the worst of it and replaced in my spirit the deepest and profound knowing that God loved me. Made me and loved me. Like a burning coal on my lips as though the angel of God asked whom can we send to tell others trapped in self hate that God loves them, I said "Here am I, send me. Try to stop me." The power of that conviction was amazing and I can describe it as passionately as any person who tells their story of being born again. That was 32 years ago and the strength has ebbed and flowed, but the deep knowing has remained.

I believe that being born again is that moment in each of our lives when the secrets we carry in our hearts; those that tell us we are not lovable are shown to be the lies. And once the lie has been exposed, the truth of God’s love rushes in like a mighty wind.

I felt another experience I describe as being born again that occurred 12 years ago. It was again the moment I told my secret truth out loud to another person. This time the truth I told was that I’m an alcoholic. Another and different reservoir of shame and guilt flooded out. Much quieter and less dramatic than my first experience, but equally as powerfully and deeply felt. Despite the pain and guilt I felt, the unworthiness and shame that I owned was laid bare and again the healing warmth of knowing that even in this God loved me, and a voice in my spirit that said," You’re going to be alright." Again, there was that deep knowing as mysterious as the One who sits on the mighty throne and yet also the quiet gentleness of the "Abba" holding the weeping child. How do you describe that except by story?

There is a power in saying our truths out loud. It’s incarnational, which means it takes on flesh and becomes real like the Word of God did in Bethlehem. The mysterious creator, the tender savior and the powerful spirit burning in us are real, and it’s God.

There is nothing that any of us have done or anything that we are that can separate us from the love of God and yet the fear of that separation keeps us silent too often. Silence can be very soothing, but it can also be the place where lies breed and twist inside us. It can be where bitterness is born and fear grows. That cannot be what God wants. Love is here and each of us is made by God and loved by God. Who we are and what we have done - good and bad - can be put to good use in helping others. What we have learned and accomplished can help others. Our speaker here today was invited because she dared to speak the truth burning in her spirit. She has helped others by her truth and her deep knowledge that she is lovable and loved. And no one can take that from her. Each of us is lovable and loved, and no one can take that from us. Even when we don’t believe it ourselves, God does and will send an angel with a burning coal to touch our lips. When that powerful realization hits, you won’t want to give your theology, you’ll want to give your truth. God did not come to condemn the world, but to save it through his love. It’s a message that needs to be heard. But who will go for us? Whom shall we send? Amen.

© 2012 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Black History and the Episcopal Church

By the Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

February overlaps the church season of Epiphany with the National observance of Black History Month. The word Epiphany means Manifestation and is used in this season to show the various ways Jesus manifested God in his life and ministry. One of the ways we're reading about often in the Gospel chosen for these weeks is in healing.

Black History Month began as Negro History Week in 1926, having been started by historian Carter G. Woodson. In 1976 February was designated Black History Month for the US and Canada. England observes Black History Month in October. In many ways this observance is healing too. The history books in America have long been written from the perspective of the accomplishments of European Americans, to the extent that contributions made by African Americans to science, medicine, culture, literature, exploration, business, indeed any aspect of our national history were systematically ignored or glossed over. History is the story of a people who live together and it needs to be told in a balanced and proud way. To exclude anyone for any reason is a disservice to the one ignored and even more so to the one who never learns about them. Pieces of our historical puzzle are missing when we leave out any group of people.

Black History Month addresses in small part the injustice of omission not only to African Americans who have a right to cherish the contributions of other African Americans in history, but to European Americans and Americans of any ethnic background, who have a right to better understand the richness of our interwoven lives.

There is seemingly a fear that the greatness of one people diminishes the greatness of another. That fear is a sickness that needs healing. The risen Lord who heals the sick and drives out the unclean spirits is a good place to look for such a healing.

Last week we read about Jesus healing the man in the synagogue of an unclean spirit. Today we read about Jesus healing Peter's mother-in-law first and then many people from the town who came after they heard what happened. Sometimes people want to see proof of healing before they open themselves up to it. As the words of Jesus' healing spread, so did the hope of the people who needed it and they came looking for it themselves. Jesus proclaimed the message of healing through God's love and kept going from town to town to proclaim it even further. Hopefully that's a message we continue to preach here.

I've always liked history and enjoyed brushing up on aspects of history within the Episcopal church that involved specific reference to African Americans. There are particular people who usually get highlighted. Absalom Jones, the first African American priest, was ordained in 1804 in Philadelphia, Barbara Harris, an African American woman who was the first woman to be consecrated a bishop in 1989. People are generally know if they are the trail blazers or "firsts" of anything.

But there are also historical trends that are important to point out also. For example, prior to the Civil War the Episcopal church was very strong in this country. That period was also before the influx of Roman Catholic immigrants so the Protestant Church in general was very strong, and the Episcopal church in particular was strong in the North and South, and the denomination of choice for those high in social circles, business and politics.

The Evangelical fervor that hit the United States was identified often with the Methodist Church, itself an offshoot of the Church of England, and whose co-founder John Wesley coined a phrase when he described his acceptance of God's grace as his heart being strangely warmed.

Episcopalians of high theology were considered people of the intellect, rational in their decisions and not swayed by sentimental emotionalism. The evangelical's warm hearts however, worked into the Episcopal church creating a similar tensions to those that always exist between head and heart.

Evangelical Episcopalians of the 1800's did a lot of work among the slave population and a large number of slaves became Christian through the Episcopal Church. But it was still very segregated. I've told this story before but I think it bears repeating, that as the Abolition movement got stronger the strains were felt in the Episcopal Church reflecting the growing conflicts in the general population. Conservative Episcopalians wanted to stay out of the debate while Evangelical Episcopalians insisted that the church needed to proclaim it's prophetic voice. The symbol of the Evangelical church's desire to speak on secular issues was the America flag hung in the churches. When Trinity Church on Wall Street allowed the American flag inside the congregation was aghast.

Phillips Brooks, an Episcopal priest know among other things for writing O Little Town of Bethlehem, was a fiery Evangelical preacher who railed against the fear of speaking out against slavery and wrote about one particular convention where no statement was made: Its shilly-shallying was disgraceful. It was ludicrous, if not sad, to see those old gentlemen sitting there for fourteen days trying to make out whether there was a war going on or not, and whether if there was it would be safe for them to say so."

More and more churches hung the flag in the church and the conservative voices relented to this trend but similarly insisted that the Episcopal flag also be hung so we don't forget the place of God in the conversation. And there they hang to this very day. But most Episcopalians have no idea why. History is a way of telling stories that need to be told. Our lives are richer because of them.

The Episcopal Church split during the Civil War but reunited after the war. The toll taken was high in so many ways, not the least of which was among church membership which had become disillusioned by war and suffering and bitter hatred between fellow citizens. The work among African Americans in the evangelical wave was lost as the country spent its time rebuilding itself. Segregation in the church continued and many opportunities for God's healing were lost. The Episcopal Church treated African Americans as a problem: culturally and socially separated and inferior, but by baptism, full and equal members of the community. The Church tried to mend this breach by ministering to black Americans separately, consecrating bishops for "colored work", funding black colleges, establishing black congregations, and operating a special office for "Negro work." In short, the Episcopal Church fully embraced the American "separate but equal" construct of race relations.

The history of race relations in the Episcopal church has a lot of pain in it. It also has a lot of hope and reconciling grace in it as well. We need to build a strong future on the solid ground of truth. A lot of work has been done and much more remains to be done. Healing has happened in the body of Christ among its varied members and like those in the Gospel lesson people keep getting drawn to it even more. Amen.

© 2012 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

9/12

By the Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The first lesson is a difficult one today -- the story of how God helps the Israelites escape their bondage by crossing the Red Sea and rolls back the sea killing the Egyptians. There are scholarly explanations for this that give reasonable interpretations, but on a gut level it seems like mass killing -- regardless of how it's attempted to be justified. And on a day that we remember the horror or mass killings in New York, Washington DC and in a Pennsylvania field, it strikes a raw chord.

Those perpetrating the attacks felt justified and their actions changed the world and unleashed a backlash of war and suffering that has led to more and more killing. Each side calling out betrayal, each side calling out vengeance and each side calling out revenge and righteous anger. It doesn't stop. How can it stop?

Peter asked Jesus, Lord, how often should I forgive, seven times? The answer is seventy time seven -- meaning always. Because forgiveness is the only way to break a cycle of violence. It's so hard to forgive in these extreme circumstances. Perhaps Peter could also ask, Lord, What's the biggest sin I have to forgive? Are some sins so big that I don't have to or can't?

Jesus answered that question a short time later as he hung from the cross and said, Father forgive them, they don't know what they're doing. Sometimes there seem to be easy answers to everyday problems and issues, and maybe sometimes there are easy answers. But 911 was not an everyday problem and there are no easy answers. This 10th year observance has us all on edge. They tell us there are credible threats for attacks on the bridges or tunnels. Even without the threats, all the coverage has brought back the original attacks with such lurid details through images and recordings. It's as if the 10 years evaporated and we're there all over again. I value remembrance and honoring, but I also want to experience the hope of September 12.

I was the rector of a church in Queens when the planes hit the towers. I was in my apartment having a quiet cup of coffee when the phone rang and a parishioner asked if I'd seen the news. I turned it on and was dumbstruck. Her husband worked in the towers and she couldn't reach him. It turned out that he got out of the building, but the excruciating waiting that was to be repeated over and over again brings up a pain that I know you identify with. I went to church and opened the doors. All day people came in, sat, prayed, cried, waited. Waited for news and waited for another possible attack.

I've heard stories of the response that happened here at St. George's on that day. Again the church doors were opened and people streamed in. People from the neighborhood coming together to be with each other in their shock and grief. What a powerful witness that in such times our doors are opened and people are welcomed in and find ministry. At some point, I'm told there were songs and one that had a special place was America the Beautiful. That's why we sang it today with the Gospel.

In the days, weeks and months ahead life was different for everyone. The atmosphere in the city took a turn and people behaved differently. People were nice, caring, asking after each other, even strangers reached out to each other. People came from all over the country to help untangle the twisted remains of the buildings and lives that were shattered. It was remarkable to see the outpouring of love and unity not only from Americans, but people from all over the world. September 12th began the road to recovery on a wave of human spirit that was awe inspiring. The heroics of people on the morning of the 11th will be remembered today appropriately, but we can also remember the heroics of the people who reached out in love and fellowship in even the simplest of acts.

Part of recovery is also healing. Deep wounds heal, but they also leave scars. We have spiritual and psychic wounds as well as physical wounds. Part of the scars are the tensions and anxieties that accompany today. And part of the healing is evident in the hope that moved us forward one day at a time and continues to do so.

Further healing comes through forgiveness. The names and faces associated with terror from Osama bin Laden to his lieutenants don't inspire forgiveness even in their deaths. Peter's question nags at me. How many times must I forgive?

In the spiritual work I do, I'll describe issues I'm facing or conflicts and rather than hearing how I've been wronged, my director brushes my complaints aside and asks, What's your part in it? I hate that question. Because there always is a part in it. It's painful to walk through that and painful to make the amends that may be needed, but it's a medicine that brings healing. On our national scale, I ask the same question, What's our part in it? Is it unpatriotic to suggest we have a part to play? If we can't ask the question, much less try to answer it, our healing can never be complete.

In another place Jesus told his disciples to pray: Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us. I don't have any answers to these, but the questions nag me.

I'd like to consider the first lesson again. I'm convinced that more than historical accuracy, the scriptures illustrate spiritual truths. There are gruesome aspects that have no reliable historical verification. They are stories that were handed down and no doubt embellished. Enemies are more fearsome, crimes more heinous, and revenge sweeter. But what gives life to stories are the spiritual truths they hold.

Like the people of Israel we can become enslaved to fears and limitations. We have to work hard to escape them and it doesn't always happen on the first try. We have to be tenacious to become our better selves. And we can really only do that with God's help. In the language of story and myth, each one of those Egyptians is a defect, a flaw, an entity, circumstance or memory that threatens to overtake us and recapture us, chaining us to the same old fears, and issues we need to escape. The victory for the Israelites came through God's help and the victory that each of us wins in the conflict with our own problems, hurts and issues will also come with God's help. A big tool in God's tool box is forgiveness. It's not easy and that's also reflected in the adventures of the Israelites who more than once during their forty year sojourn wondered if they would have been better off to stay in Egypt.

Healing takes work and determination. It takes faith and patience. It takes time. The Easter after 9/11 was 7 months later. I tried to put on a happy face for the crowds expected, because I thought that was my job. But I realized and told them that I wasn't happy. I wasn't feeling the Easter joy and I couldn't fake it. But I did have hope that day that healing would come in time. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul said that in the end three things remain, faith hope and love. I think that's true and that the story of the Israelites, while packaged in a questionable wrapper of gruesomeness, is a story of the survival of faith, hope and love.

I think the story of 9/11 and more importantly 9/12 also captures the essence of faith hope and love. Not in the attacks, but in the rebuilding that transcends it.

I baptized a baby at the family service and this afternoon I'll preside at the blessing of Civil Marriage. Our victory over adversity comes from the healing we pursue and the dedication to achieve it. Healing comes through forgiveness, faith hope and love. From the joy we find in our lives and the horizons and challenges God calls to follow. Amen.

© 2011 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Gentiles and Tax Collectors??

By the Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Community plays an important role in faith traditions. This is certainly true of Jews and Christians. The community of believers is interwoven as a family that grew from its origins back in Genesis. Israel is always spoken of as a chosen "people", not a chosen person. The only one who might lay claim to being called a chosen "person" is Abraham. But he's the only one. After him it was a family faith and it grew into a community faith. The laws that emerged dealt with how the community would treat each other and settle differences. The underpinning of all the laws was the love of God and the justice God inspired as a show of love between God and neighbor. The teachings of Jesus continue this foundation of faith. Whenever a problem arises in the scriptures, it's because an individual or group has put itself ahead of the good of the community.

The Book of Leviticus has over 600 laws governing the people of Israel in every aspect of the communal life. Jesus narrowed the focus of these laws when he said they all amounted to two basic laws, love God and love your neighbor. Love implies justice, generosity and forgiveness.

I think any lawyer will tell you that laws exist because there was a conflict that required it to be written. Paul often tried to convince the early Christians that they didn't need any laws since once they started following Jesus they would be so full of love as to not need them. The law of love would be written on their hearts. It was a nice sentiment, but it didn't really play out as he intended. Laws still come into being whether they are in the form of ten on tablets of stone, or two from the mouth of Jesus, or 600 from Leviticus or the tomes that govern our nation or anyone else's. Laws come into being because living in community is hard work and often conflicted.

Jesus' teaching on conflict resolution comes in the context of parables like the lost sheep -- the one that leaves the ninety-nine and is found by the shepherd. It's a real example of how to go to great lengths to resolve conflict and more importantly restore the community to wholeness. The society of Jesus' time was known for blood feuds and vengeance killings or attacks. What he proposes may sound logical to us, even though difficult. But in his day this was very radical. Remember these are the people that would "smite" each other for small offenses!

Even still, as radical as the conflict resolution is, Jesus realizes that some conflicts can't be resolved. Sometimes a break occurs. He says that if you go to the lengths of meeting with the person alone, then with a couple witnesses, and then the whole community and it's still not resolved -- then let them be to you as a Gentile or tax collector.

This is the part that I find ironic, because Jesus' community extended in love even to Gentiles and tax collectors. There's still a circle to it. And it circles back to love and completion, and the constant call back into community.

The statements following this are tantalizing. "What you bind on earth will be bound in heaven and what you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven." The different Gospels have similar words to these in different contexts without a clear or final interpretation.

These statements were once interpreted in relation to the power or granting absolution during confessions. Taken out of context, it might suggest that the priest has the power to bind or release with far reaching implications. That interpretation is still alive in the world today, but it's a dangerous one and ultimately erroneous in my view.

I'd like to suggest an interpretation just based on life experience -- mine and some I've seen in others. It's about holding onto anger or grudges, or perhaps even frightening or hurtful memories. People can be so bound by their own inability to let go of the past that if hobbles their attempts to move forward. Resentments and anger fester and become bigger if not resolved. Fears become neurotic or obsessive if addressed. I think the phrase about binding on earth may have to do with this. Anger and fear that is held onto will stay with us and contaminate our spiritual growth. What we bind on earth will be bound in heaven.

On the other hand what we loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. What we can resolve and let go of, will no hinder us in our spiritual development or growth.

You're certainly free to choose your own interpretation, but I will never claim having the power to bind anyone or release anyone in this life or the next. That is between God and each individual!

The first lesson from Exodus shed an interesting angle to look at the Gospel. The story of the Passover seems a bit out of place here, but then again, perhaps not. The story of the Passover is about the events leading up to the freeing of the Israelite slaves out of Egypt. The last plague was about to be unleashed before Pharaoh would let them go. It's quite a detailed story -- recipes and dress codes included. But for our purposes it illustrates the lengths people will go to gain freedom.

Conflict with another person or people, society or nation is a form of bondage. Anger can lead to prejudice and injustice, murder or war. Spiritual and emotional battle takes place before physical battle does, and it's at that moment when the real spiritual bondage occurs. That which is bound can get bound very tight.

The freedom from that bondage, similar to the freedom of the Israelites, is found through the working of God's spirit and a different form of passing over from the slavery of resentment to the freedom of forgiveness. It's not easy but it is possible. What we loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.

When it comes to conflict we might be right or wrong, we might be the righteous ones or the ones shunned like Gentiles or Tax Collectors, but mostly there's a murky in between where both parties played a role. Jesus' solution is a sound as any advice given. Try to resolve it privately. If that doesn't work call in others to do this important work. The goal is bringing the community back into wholeness and for the individual to be healed from the pain of conflict. When we do as much as we can, we can let it go, regardless of how the other person receives it. They may choose to remain bound, but we can always choose the freedom of loosening those bonds within ourselves.

I take a lot of comfort in knowing that even if we cannot close the gap in conflict and may have to let someone go, God won't. Jesus' followers may have shunned the Gentiles and Tax Collectors, but he didn't. He kept at them and, I believe, still does. Amen.

© 2011 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Seeds Will Wait

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The parable of the sower is a beautiful illustration of how people receive the Word. It's also an illustration of the Word is constantly present in the many different places in the world, and in our lives.

When I first read this parable for this morning and read again how Jesus explains it, I thought that about sums it up. He just explained it. Who am I to add anything else? Do I dare ? Well, yes. That's part of the gift of parables, it's a gift that keeps on giving. We constantly see new things in them and open them in different ways.

"Word" is a pun right off the bat. Just as Jesus explains that the seed that is scattered is the word of God thrown onto different kinds of soil, we need to remember that he is the word made flesh and that he wandered all over Israel and the surrounding countries. He went to different types of land and the word took root in different ways as he went.

Some scoffed and turned away, some listened for a while and followed for time, but left when following him was getting politically dangerous. Some deserted him right at the end. And some stayed true the whole time. Jesus is the word made flesh and the seed that takes root in so many ways.

The types of soil can be different kinds of people and the varied circumstances of their lives that challenge them. This is the place where Jesus' explanation is the clearest. This is also where I'd like to add something. We are not just rocky people, or the types who only get eaten by birds or are shallow or even just good soil. People are complicated and we go through phases in our lives in which we reflect each of these conditions.

There's not just one shot at hearing the word of God and having it take root. One of the illustrations of the parable is the sower continually throws the seed even when he must realize it's going off the path and out of the cultivated field. And the sower doesn't just sow for one season, it's every season and every year, always in the hope of harvest.

I think that's how God works with us; constantly trying to get our attention and lovingly and extravagantly throwing seed even where a more prudent farmer would not.

The word of God is about love, reconciliation, hope, generosity, and most importantly about resurrection. Jesus preached about these things wherever he went - some heard it and some didn't. But what's even most amazing is that the ones who didn't hear it at first, came to hear it later on. One of the most notable examples of this is the Centurion at the crucifixion who exclaimed, "Truly, this was the son of God."

We hear messages of love our whole lives long. Sometimes we soak it in and sometimes we don't want to hear it. We hear wise people talk of forgiveness and how important it is, and we agree until someone has hurt us so badly that we cannot find forgiveness in our hearts. And then one day we do. We go from rocky soil to good soil.

Seeds last a long time. That's one of the incredible characteristics about seeds. They appear dead, but hold the potential for life deep within, just waiting until the environment is right. Again, God is like that. Patiently waiting until the conditions are right to take root.

Finally each pod or flower that grows from the seed produces seeds of its own. And that's where we come in. The word of God that was planted in us and grows through the varied stages and conditions of our lives, produces seeds of witness that we in turn scatter where we go. Some people listen and some don't, or rather they don't seem to, but might just have the seed dormant until they need it.

In the first lesson from Isaiah, we heard the beautiful canticle from the 55th Chapter:

As the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
and do not return there until they have watered the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

Behind the poetry and the parables is the sincere conviction that God loves us and will keep at us until the ground is fertile for us to hear that message. It's all around us and will take root.

Amen.

© 2011 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

A Prophet's Reward

By the Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Jesus talked to his disciples about welcoming. "Those who welcome you welcome me, those who welcome me welcome the one who sent me." "Those who welcome a prophet receive a prophet’s reward and those who welcome a righteous person receive a righteous person’s reward."

I don't know what a prophet's reward is, nor do I know what a righteous person's reward is. From my search on the internet, no one else seems to either. Since everyone else is making a guess, I might as well hazard one mysef. My guess comes from some recent experiences I've had.

I belong to several groups which focus on different areas of study and interest. Some are biblical, a couple are fairly esoteric, some are related to health and healing, some to forms of recovery, as well as some others. While engaging in each of these groups my spirit and intellect are engaged in different ways. My interests are expanded and energized, and I come away from them refreshed and renewed in one or more areas of my life.

I attended a session of our Sunday morning Bible Study last week and had a wonderful conversation about the Book of Acts, and I received a Bible student's reward in that part of my intellect and spirit was refreshed. I attended an ecumenical clergy meeting earlier in the week and we had a spirited conversation ab out Biblical laws from Christian, Moslem and Jewish points of view, and I received the reward of collegial study and interfaith dialogue.

So my thinking about the prophet's reward and that of a righteous person is colored by these experiences. Prophets have a way of engaging the world that interpret God's activity and relationship in the world with social justice and connections between faith and action for the good of all people. The righteous person engages the world focused more on individual relationships and day to day encounters. Welcoming these people brings a reward of opening our eyes and hearts to the lessons they teach and helping us engage the world and, in fact, live in the world with a wider vision and a deeper sense of God's grace in it.

But then Jesus ends this section of the conversation with the most important part. Those who welcome children with even a cup of water will not lose their reward. Children bring a joy and simplicity, an openness and wonder. A child's reward is innocence and unambiguous joy. Not a bad reward for a cup of water.

This weekend in New York culminates in the Gay Pride parade. Each year it gets bigger and it's voice gets louder. The passage of the Marriage Equality legislation is an astounding stride forward in social justice. It is a wonderful form of being welcomed. It is a prophet's reward, and the rewards of many righteous people are abounding.

Many months ago I was asked by friends, two men, to do their wedding in Connecticut. They are New York residents and since at that point Marriage equality in New York didn't seem possible, they decided Connecticut was their best option. So the plans were made for a simple ceremony in a lovely park in Greenwich. I called them in the morning and asked if the NYC ruling changed their plans and they said no. So off we went. I got there early and sat in the park reading the paper with a cup of coffee. The early priest gets the early priest's reward!

While I was sitting there an older man walked by, seeing me in my collar and no doubt seeing the front page of the Times which I was reading said, "Today's not as good as yesterday." I didn't feel like a debate so I simply responded "Any day the sun goes up and comes back down, is a good day." He chuckled and went his way. Perhaps his reward was in a simple exchange.

When the couple arrived with the guests we held the brief ceremony and it was very emotional, not only for the vows that every married couple or those in Civil Union make, but just the deep and spiritually refreshing experience of the access these two men had to a legal and sacramental ceremony that has only been granted for a relatively short time. We've done several Civil Unions here in this church and to experience something so simple and yet so profound that is still violently debated is very powerful. That is a prophet's reward.

After the ceremony we were wiping our tears and taking pictures and enjoying the beautiful day and the exquisite moment when a woman came down the path with a newly made bouquet of flowers. This total stranger, her own eyes glistening said she was so happy for these men as she watched unseen from a distance that she felt compelled to do something and handed the flowers to them. A little different from a cup of water, but such beautiful simplicity and gracious welcome felt like an angel's visit. She was a righteous person whose joy was the type of reward that the man I'd encountered earlier could not have understood. I'm not suggesting that he's unrighteous, but there is so much joy available, it's a shame not to experience as much as we can.

The first lesson this morning describes God's call to Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac. He came so close to losing his son because he felt it was God's will. Only at the last minute did he get deflected and heard the greater call to spare his son and restore his family. Genesis said that God tested Abraham in doing this. I'm not sure God puts us to that kind of test, but I do understand the kind of temptation that can destroy things we love all the time thinking we're either doing the right thing or at the very least a harmless thing.

Remaining on the topic of Gay Pride Week, many parents have sacrificed their children thinking they were doing God's will and haven't heard the call to stop. Last week we heard a powerful witness of the struggles that inspired the Negro Spirituals in our recognition of Juneteenth. In it was another example of destruction of God's children in many ways, while adhering to a belief in God's will, permission or obscene gift. God's will is love, peace and justice. Despite the many temptations society finds to sacrifice the innocent for purposes they feel are justified and defended, even inspired by God - in the end it is life and restoration that is the will of God. So we welcome prophets, and righteous people and children in the name of God and in doing so receive their reward. Amen.

© 2011 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Temptation

By the Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

A woman was showing her friend a dress she bought earlier in the day. It was a beautiful dress but she was nervous because money was tight in the family and she hadn't discussed the purchase with her husband. She was afraid he was going to be mad. She assured her friend she tried to resist the temptation. She said, "I could feel the devil tempting me, telling me I should get it and he kept at me, tempting and tempting until I shouted 'Get behind me Satan!'" Her friend shouted "Amen" but then looked confused and asked, "then why do you have the dress?"

"Because I heard the Devil say, 'Mm mm mm, it looks even better from the back.'"

Play write Oscar Wilde wrote, "I can resist anything but temptation." Few stories are more delicious about temptation than that of Eve and the apple. How many of us are fine until we're told what NOT to do? Imagine that rush of joy she felt after the first bite when her eyes were opened and she saw as she had never seen before. And then the consequences.

The temptations of Jesus is a story that shows a very human dimension in a man whose humanity we often lose track of. Most stories focus on the miracles and healing, the great teaching and other stories that reveal the truly divine in him, But this story, placed strategically on the first Sunday in Lent, demonstrates a truly human characteristic. As we enter Lent and are encouraged to look at our own temptations and how we did or did not give into them, we do so from the vantage point of seeing Jesus in a similar situation. His temptations were our temptations in the way that there is nothing new under the sun.

The temptations were about materials, power, and glory. Whether it's making bread when you're hungry, or proving that you can't get hurt, or placing yourself in a position to be adored by others -- the situations are different but at their heart, all temptations fit these categories.

The devil also plays a common role, using what we love to make us do what we don't want to do. Here, the devil uses scripture to tempt Jesus. He says, "It is written 'He will command His angels concerning you... On their hands they will bear you up....'" Misusing scripture is an old trick also. Jesus deftly parries each use of scripture with another verse.

Jesus resists each temptation, but it's wonderful for us that he had them. As in so many situations, he shows us the way out of trouble. Temptation exists, but we don't have to give in.

The current recession is a litany of temptations for material, power and glory that we given in to with disastrous results. On so many levels the desire to have more, to be more impressive, or to exert more muscle and gain economic power and prestige proved too strong for so many who wanted their own corner of Eden and ended up being pushed out. There's nothing wrong with wanting and working toward goals, but when they become obsessive or necessary for concepts of self worth, we enter a dangerous place.

Jesus reached what may have been the most decisive moment of his earthly life. Had he made the bread, or jumped, or bowed to the devil in exchange for glory, things would have turned out very differently for all of us. But he didn't. He embraced who he was and kept perspective on what was really important -- his relationship with God and other people. He did not strive to be better than others, but relished being equal to them.

The Apostle Paul writes about the theme of temptation and obedience in his Epistle. He compares Adam and Jesus, whom he refers to occasionally as the new Adam. The old Adam's disobedience led to his downfall and the new Adam whose obedience led to his resurrection. The analogy is for our benefit and it's not about punishment for crimes as much as it is as a way of living. Those whose lives are filled with the obsessive need to get more stuff, power or glory create a hell for themselves of looking over their shoulders to see who's going to knock them down. We're seeing this play out tragically in the Middle East. The opposite of this scene is one that played out in South Africa with Nelson Mandela, who is one of my heroes. He had his own moments of temptation and decision. Amid blood thirsty calls for revenge and plunder, his own anger at his imprisonment, he chose a path of peace and reconciliation. We see these temptations in scripture in the language of story and symbol, we see them played out on the world stage and the season of Lent is to give us a time to see how it plays out in our lives.

We all have our own moments of decision. Nations are not resting on most of ours, but lives of people important to us are impacted by our decisions and how we respond to temptations. The language of Genesis has God expelling Adam and Eve, but I think it was they who chose to leave without realizing it. Just as we leave the peace and serenity of our lives when we choose to make harmful decisions. The choices may not be conscious, but they are real none the less.

Jesus shows us how to regain Eden by loving God and our neighbor. The scriptures are for our learning, the traditions of the church are a vehicle to put that learning into practice. This season of Lent is one such tradition. Its solemnity symbolizes how seriously we take the opportunity to examine ourselves and sift our choices. The disciplines of giving up something or taking something on that challenge us and help us grow, stretch us and give a glimpse of how we might improve. They all add up to a preparation for the feast of the Resurrection called Easter in which the promise of Jesus is echoed again that there is always new life, even in the midst of sadness or destruction.

When we take a snapshot of our world today, there is so much pain and anguish. The ongoing war and strife in Afghanistan and Iraq, the terrible earthquake in Tokyo as well as the one a year ago in Haiti. Temptations come in the form of what we want to do for ourselves and another form of temptation comes in feeling powerless to meet challenges which seem too big for us.

If we focus on the pain and anguish, we'll miss the signs of resurrection in their midst. People meet suffering with love. For every problem and challenge, there are people who work in a variety of ways to address it. Friends helping other friends, groups of people helping each other and in some cases nations helping each other. Next week a group of children from Africa who are orphaned by AIDS and other diseases or violence in their own country will witness to us the power of resurrection in their lives. They've risen to meet their challenges with faith and courage. Their song and movement are signs of their triumph. They are not paralyzed or broken by their tragedies and setbacks. They might be tempted to give in, but they don't.

None of us have guarantees of lives without tragedy or setbacks. I think the first temptations for materials, power and glory are attempts to barricade ourselves from such things, but ultimately such attempts fail. The biggest temptation is to believe that God has abandoned us and left us to our own devices. But again and again we see how God is at work in the love and persistence of the good that is present in people who meet their challenges in faith and help others to do so. Worshiping God is a way of tapping into that strength and courage to meet our own struggles.

In Luke's version of this story he said that after the Devil departed, he waited for another opportune time to visit Jesus. Matthew doesn't have that, but there's some truth in that too. Temptation comes whether the devil is in front of us or behind us, at very surprising times.

Use Lent as a time to think about these things and to allow them to make the promise of new life and resurrection strengthen us to meet life's challenges. Amen.

© 2011 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

"Let your light so shine"

By the Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

From the Gospel we heard, "Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven."

One of the dominant themes of Epiphany is light. It's an important symbol in much of the scriptures and is used in different ways. It's a way of illustrating truth, wisdom, and God's grace. Scriptures refer to Jesus as the Light of the World, or the Light to enlighten the Nations. In the prologue to the Gospel of John, it says, "In Him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it."

This light called Jesus invites us to let out light shine before others. It's a beautiful image and a common one, but somehow never loses it's power. Today, being the first Sunday of February we begin a series of Sundays focusing on Black History Month. We'll have different guest speakers and forums that are listed in your bulletin and you'll hear more about them as the weeks progress. The Absalom Jones Committee has done a lot of work preparing the events and I'm really glad they are letting their lights shine before others. Earlier in the Gospel passage Jesus said that no one hides a light under a bushel, but puts it on a lamp stand. While that may be true with physical lights or candles, it's not always true of people and their good works.

The light of African Americans was hidden for many years from history lessons. The cultural and scientific contributions, the art, music, religious, military -- so many aspects hidden for so many years. The purpose of Black History Month is to raise awareness, not only of what has been left out of the general history pages, also serves as a reminder of the danger of omitting it.

I often refer to myself as a walking guilt trip. If I'm downtown and pass by one of our parishioners who wasn't in church the past Sunday, as I'm saying hello I'm hearing why they weren't in church. It's as though my very presence is an accusation. Believe me when I tell you, I just want to say hello. Similarly, the existence of Black History Month can be perceived as a finger of accusation for the wrongs of the past. Slavery, lynching, false accusation and wrongful imprisonment, and the many ways that racism raises it's ugly head in employment, housing, education and all aspects of our common lives cannot be denied or glossed over. That is part of the history that can best be healed by honesty and shining a light on a past that is painful for those whose ancestors bore the worst of it, and who still feel the legacy of racism today. Healing is also necessary for those of us whose ancestors perpetrated the worst of it, and who still engage in it today in varying degrees.

The real value of Black History Month in my opinion is the opportunity to challenge everyone to allow their light to shine -- the light of truth and the light of God's love to find healing, reconciliation and growth. Many of you know that I grew up in Rhode Island and I'm very proud of my little home state, often referred to in some history books as "Rogues' Island." It's always had a salty history that most Rhode Islanders look at with smug pride -- things like smuggling and old fashioned rum running. But like so many, the state has a dirty little secret. The Brown family, a prominent family in the history of that state, for whom Brown University is named, has a large section in the state history books for their accomplishments and noble adventures. What was left out of the history books of my grammar school was that the Brown family made their fortune in the slave trade.

We were always taught that slavery was the vice of the Southern States and that the virtuous north was responsible for ending it. It seems that was not the case. The Browns certainly gained a lot by promoting that slant on history, and so did many others. The sad truth was hidden under pages of other history that allowed untainted pride.

What is to be served by revealing the dirty little family secret? People are owed the truth, even when it's painful. The scriptures are full of it's heroes and heroines whose nobility is tempered by their failings. That's part of it's richness and part of its offer of salvation and healing. Moses murdered a man. King David cheated and set up a man to be killed so he could marry the man's wife. Peter denied Jesus at his time of need. Paul persecuted the church and presided of the killing of Stephen, the first martyr of the Christian Church. Scriptures don't gloss over the painful truth, but shows how God can work even through the failings of people and create something good.

Scriptural history, Black History, even the history of Rogues' Island is not about guilt, it's about honesty. Sometimes we have to hear painful truths and sometimes we have to tell painful truths. But Black History Month is certainly not only about pain. It's in fact more about triumph, as is scripture.

In twelve step work with substance and alcohol abusers there is a list of promises made to those who can stay clean and sober. One of the promises is "We will not regret the past, nor wish to shut the door on it." For people whose lives have been a long path of wreckage, most of which they created themselves, this promise seems very far out of reach, almost to be unrealistic and impossible. For people who would rather forget the past, the idea that it would not be regretted seems absurd. And yet, experience shows that to be the case. Shining the light of honesty of the tangled past is the beginning of healing -- for those who were hurt and for those who did the hurting. Denying allows wounds to fester, truth allows them to heal.

In South Africa the work they've done on reconciliation is a model for the world. It doesn't erase the past but allows honesty to help them transcend it. Again, it's not about guilt, it's about healing.

As Black History Month progresses there are important voices to be heard, and not all of them are Black. Black History is an artificial category. There is only one history that people of all races participated in, inherited and will live into. Revealing it's fullness is an ongoing adventure that requires imagination, courage and yearning.

As the weeks unfold we'll hear stories and learn things. We'll capture a beauty and richness that builds us all up and no doubt hear painful truths that also need to be shared. Life is complicated and messy. It's also wonderful. Faith and grace play large roles in that life. God is with us and is the source of light. The Book of Genesis tells us that when God made light, God said it was good. And it is. And the same light of God shines through Jesus and invites us to let our light shine as well. The light that we shine gives glory to God because it returns that which we have received. We have much to learn, much to live and while the past is past, God is the light that will shows us the present and will guide us into the future. Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and give glory to God in Heaven. Amen.

© 2011 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

"Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God"

By the Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The lesson from Micah is a well known passage and quoted often. "What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God?"

Micah was a contemporary of the prophet Isaiah. He was a bit younger though and from very different circumstances. Isaiah was very famous and had a prominent role in the court of the King. In his writings it's clear that Isaiah was able to speak to the King whenever he wanted and was also on call if the King wanted to talk to him. Isaiah was in a place of influence and on more than one occasion used it to sway the King's foreign policy.

Micah, on the other hand, was from a small town outside the capital city of Jerusalem and was not a man of position or stature. Since they were contemporaries they wrote about the same events, but what makes their prophecies interesting is the lenses through which they see those events, their causes and the impacts.

Through Isaiah's eyes we see how the King wrestled with the severe issues facing him. The biggest threat was the Assyrian army bearing down on them. It was a perennial threat that spanned the reigns of several kings. Both Isaiah and Micah lived and wrote over the course of those reigns, but through Isaiah's work we can see the complications of political intrigue and the difficult decisions each King faced regarding alliances and actions that would protect them without provoking their much larger neighbor.

Micah, could not have seen the inner workings of the court, but his writings have more of the common touch. He wrote from the perspective of the average person who looks at their leadership with an almost childlike trust and simple hope for solution. Political solutions always seem simple to the people on the outside. But where Micah is not naive is in his experience of the failure of society on the level of the common person.

He could see first hand the effects of injustice -- judges bribed or educated shop keepers taking advantage of uneducated customers. The inequality of power and the abuse of authority is nothing new to the common person for whom it was an every day experience.

I picked up a book recently titled, The Preacher and the Presidents. It's about Billy Graham and how his long career has spanned the presidencies from Harry Truman to Barack Obama. Like many, I don't agree with his theology, but I am also impressed by his ability to be among the inner circle of the presidents of two parties who looked to him as a pastor and adviser. In his work I can see a reflection of Isaiah as one who was close to the seat of power while maintaining the spiritual authority to speak out for or against issues of the day according to his faith and not his politics. Even that got complicated for him and he made some grave errors in judgment, but in terms of an illustration, it's helpful. Part of the book focuses on his relationship and interaction with Martin Luther King, Jr during the civil rights struggle. Two men of faith -- one close to the seat of power and one close to the injustice on the street seeing the solutions from very different lenses and yet their conversations with each other influenced some of the shape of the civil rights struggle.

It's fascinating history and also remarkable how often it's repeated through out history with different issues and different players. Micah and Isaiah also contrasted in their approach to the issues of their day based on the situations in which they lived and the information they had available to them. But where each of them agreed completely was in the need for true religion. Not the same beliefs, mind you, but the integrity of the behavior coming from those beliefs.

Micah watched and wrote about the carful attention to the temple worship -- as did Isaiah. Sometimes it was done perfectly and other times it was not, but both agreed that the worship meant nothing if the same people who attended it still cheated, still accepted bribes, and still abused their authority. Micah was exasperated by what he saw and simply said, "What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with your God?"

This lesson is paired with the Gospel lesson we call the Beatitudes. It also is an often quoted part of scripture and lists the ways in which people are blessed by the ways in which they stay in relationship with God. It is a gathering of the promises of God for people who are in need -- those who hunger, those who thirst, those who are poor in spirit, meek, those who mourn, the pure in heart and the peacemakers. They are blessed not because they are lucky, certainly, but because God's love and grace will touch and heal them. They are blessed because they are not forgotten or forsaken. God comes to us in our times of need, and that is God's promise.

Friday and Saturday of this weekend was the annual convention of the Diocese of Newark. The theme of this convention was "Stepping Out in Audacious Faith." There are over a hundred churches in this Diocese of Newark which covers the geographical region of the top third of the state of New Jersey. Each year, the last weekend of January delegations from each church meet to take care of the business of the Diocese, such as passing a budget and voting on resolutions that impact the common lives of the churches. There's singing, eating, haggling, voting, witnessing and celebrating in varying degrees and with varying outcomes.

I have to pause here to recognize our delegates Tom Savoth, Cheryl Notari and Valyrie Laedlein. And also recognize our members who serve on the staff of the Diocese -- Michael Francaviglia, Nina Nicholson and Diane Sammons. Other members serve on Diocesan committees -- Lindsay McHugh, Martha Gardner, Aleeda Crawley, Susan Chrystal and myself. St. George's is well represented and we're proud of you all!

The guest speaker was Bishop Julio Murry from the Diocese of Panama. There has been a program within the National Church for many years called Companion Dioceses which pairs a Diocese in the US with other Dioceses outside the US especially among those in developing countries. Panama is our companion Diocese and through Bishop Murray we learned about the issues they face, particularly among the poor and struggling of that country. Missions trips will be planned and I hope that St. Georgians will be available to participate and take advantage of the opportunities such a relationship will bring. Adults and youth from this diocese who have been gave witness to their trips and told how life changing they were. How abstract issues that we hear in the news become real. For a young person to say he'd heard about the poor in school or the news and different it is to be in a place that is so poor and talk with other youth whose lives are very different from theirs. What became even more profound was not the comparisons of who has what, but the faith that sustains them in the challenges that each face. Our circumstances are very different, but our reliance on God is the same. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.

We saw filmed accounts of churches in this diocese who have addressed the needs of their communities in some really creative ways. Some starting worship services for autistic children and other special needs, some creating soup kitchens, and others allowing people from the town to grow vegetables on unused church property that is used in the soup kitchens. Blessed are those who hunger for they shall be filled.

Conventions are a lot of work and very tiring. But they are a good time to see God working in this part of the state by the Episcopal church. We are a small denomination and as the Bishop said in an address, many people don't even know who we are, let alone how to spell our name. But we have a lens through which we see God and it's a good one and God calls us all, no matter who we are or where we are and shows us ministries that only we can do. The task of each church community is to discern, that is figure out, what that ministry is.

St. George's has had a long history of witnessing to social justice. From women's rights to advocacy for the homeless, co-founding shelters and gathering food and necessities for mothers and children, witnessing for marriage equality and much more. We've been a teaching parish hosting field education students from local seminaries and preparing them for ministry in many other places. We are a healing parish. Through prayer and anointing, welcome and fellowship, we heal those who have been hurt by other churches or injured by life's tragedies. We offer God's healing in prayer and witness that all people are loved by God. Our ministry is important to us and it grows and changes through out the years, but what remains the same is the desire to bring integrity to our worship through the love it inspires us to show each other and reflect in the world. Often we get it right, sometimes we fall short, but we are blessed in what we try to do when we keep in mind that all that God really requires of us is to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God. Amen.

© 2011 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ