Guest Preacher for Gay Pride Month: Dr. Louie Crew

Early Christians had no difficulty understanding that God could be god; the wondrous surprise for them was that God could be human too.

Mary experienced many complications in raising a child who was God. On one occasion he disappeared for three days while they were visiting Jerusalem, and when Mary and Joseph came to him in distress, Jesus had little sympathy for their anxiety. “Get over it!” he seemed to say. “You should have known that I would be about my father's business.”

In today's Gospel the family hears that Jesus, now grown, is preaching like a crazy man, casting out demons and hanging out with riff-raff. The religious authorities tell them that Jesus is “teched” (as we would say in Alabama), or as polite Episcopalians in New Jersey might put it, 'he has had a momentary lapse of reality.” Mary and his brothers come to restrain him; and once outside the place where he is preaching they send someone to tell him to come home to bring some peace to their family. Jesus replies to their messenger, “My mother!? My brothers!? Who are my mother and my brothers?” My mother and my brothers – my family – are not family by blood, but by intention. (Take that, Mama!)

Many LGBTQ folks have experienced very bad treatment from our biological parents. We can readily understand Jesus' sternness. LGBTQ folks own all trademarks and copyrights on the concept “Families of Intention.” For many years one of the most popular songs in gay social venues was “We are family!” We know full well that we did not choose our biological families, but we can and must choose as family those who whom we respect and those who treat us with respect.

That's why St. George's has been a special place for several decades. People have come here not to be battered but to be blessed. And we can never bless others without also blessing ourselves. I rejoice in your pioneering spirit of the Gospel. This place is holy.

What you have been doing for decades is now central to the policy of The Episcopal Church. I hope you experience joy in that, pride in that. If we can make the Episcopal Church safe for sinners, we'll pack all our congregations.

Who would have imagined 30 years ago that the staid, traditional Episcopal Church would take to the cutting edge in bringing news genuinely good for absolutely everybody, even with most of the rest of the Anglican Communion furious and hatching all sorts of plots to punish us and mock us. Their rebuke is often ludicrous.

The Archbishop of Canterbury would not allow our primate, Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori, to wear her miter when she preached at Southwark Cathedral during the last Lambeth Conference. She honored his request -- by walking behind her miter toted on a lovely Episcopal cushion by one of the servers in the procession.

Once the Archbishop of Uganda lost his cool and threw down his manuscript when he excoriated me from the porch of his palace in front of all the bishops of the Sudan and Uganda. I fantasized walking in the dark the several miles back to the hotel alone knowing how desperate they would be to find me. “That's too much fun to be of God,” I reasoned, and thus stood calmly through his fulminations.

The Primate of Nigeria, Archbishop Peter Akinola, reacted with similar disdain after his enthronement at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York. I had been a reader. Ernest and I entered the luncheon at the same time as the Archbishop and his wife, so I introduced Ernest as my husband to them. He visibly jumped back and fled. He later bragged about his rejection of us to a reporter from the New York Times.

Jesus advises us on such occasions to “Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for so that rejected those who were before you.”

Many close observers of Episcopal politics predict, whatever their own point of view, that one month from now the General Convention of the Episcopal Church will pass trial rites of blessings (and where secular jurisdiction permits, marriages) of same-gendered persons. Hundreds of persons, recruited from friends and foes alike, in all 113 Episcopal dioceses have contributed to the materials being brought to Convention for action. People all over the world are watching. Many in other denominations, indeed in other religions, hope that this near the finish line, The Episcopal Church will boldly step across into God's welcoming embrace.

As you may have noticed, I am a church politician. I am not a priest. The first 20 of my 40 years of lay ministry would have been impossible had I sworn to obey a bishop. I do not see “church politician” as dirty term, though to tell the truth, sometimes it's a bit like being a “flasher for Jesus.”

Yet our political goals in the church do not and should not define everything we are as people of faith. In today's lesson from Hebrew scriptures, the Israelites are anxious to have a king and go Establishment. They are tired of being tribal. (Some of us can understand that quite well.) They are tired of being looked down upon by the high and mighty. Samuel warns the Israelites that even though God will grant their requests to have a king, they will be in for some great disappointment. He describes in detail how their sons and their daughters will forfeit much individual freedom to become the king's minions.

St. Teresa of Avila said, “Answered prayers cause more tears than those that remain unanswered.” Be careful what you ask for....

Let me give a personal example. Ernest and I married on February 2, 1974. Only three were present, the two of us and the Holy Spirit. We used the old Prayer Book, 1928 because that was the only Prayer Book available 38 years ago. As are many of you here, we are still nourished and disciplined by the fierce pledges that we made, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health....

So I am all for Marriage Equality, but I have discovered that marriage is not, and should not be, the be-all and end-all of my relationship with Ernest. I'm a slow learner and it took me a long time to understand that:

More than 25 years into our marriage someone asked Ernest and me who Kim Byham is, and I explained, "Kim Byham is my best friend." Later when we were alone, Ernest said, "I know you are close to Kim and I rejoice in that. But I am surprised that I have never heard you name me as your best friend. You are my best friend."

There was no meanness, no 'gotcha' in his countenance, just gentle, loving vulnerability.

I could say nothing for a long time, and when I did, I acknowledged that I had never thought of him as my best friend, that it was not just a mistake in my choice of words.

Over the next few months I concluded that I was valuing marriage too much if I let being a husband so absorb me that I could not even recognized Ernest as my best friend. He had indeed always treated me as his best friend without stopping for a moment in being my husband.

I'm still working on the challenge, and have been much blessed by it. One minor example. Ernest loves Japanese food. It's never been at the top of my list, yet for several years now, it has been a great pleasure to me to be the one to choose a fine Japanese restaurant when it is my turn to choose where we will eat out. Again and again with joy I watch him attack trays of raw fish with a twinkle in his eyes, especially the double portion of eels, his favorite. And he beams when I insist that he eat a huge chunk of my crab cake. And lo and behold, I rarely order tempura anymore, because I have actually grown to like some sushi – well some of it. Most important, I have the great joy of taking my best friend to a place that he will enjoy the most.

Likewise, I don't always find myself siding with Jesus in his sharp dismissal of biological families. (Nor does Jesus always make the point that he does in today's Gospel.) As important as families of intent are, so are families of birth.

The Blessed Virgin Mary is a good friend of mine, and as a good Anglo-Catholic I hang out with her a lot, especially when I have the blues. In preparing for this sermon, I have asked her several times what it felt like to experience her son's dismissal of her in today's gospel story. He completely ignored all she had been for him. She became pregnant out of wedlock for him, and fat chance of persuading any of the religious zealots of her day by saying, “The Holy Spirit did it!” Mary was the first person ever to share the blood of Christ! She loved him dearly.

“Mary,” I have asked her, “what did it feel like to have him go into a snit and seemingly deny that your motherhood counted for anything. “Who are my mothers and my brothers!?”

Mary hasn't answered me yet. The closest I get is her gentle, enigmatic smile and a Beatles' song coming from an apartment down the hall, “Let it be, let it be.”

When I met Ernest, we courted for five months, and after we married, I wrote my parents. They replied with the hardest letter that I have ever received. They knew I was gay. That was not their problem. Ernest's being black was the hard part for them. In their letter they wished us all happiness but asked me not to bring Ernest home with me. They hoped that I would continue to visit, but they did not want to put their friends to the test. They knew that most would continue to love them, but “We're retired and we don't want to find out who won't.”

I showed Ernest the letter. He responded with his own enigmatic smile.

“Well, come on. Let's pack. We can be there in five hours,” I said.

Didn't you read the letter?” he asked.

“Yes, but they won't say that once they meet you. Once Dad sees that you are very gentle and kind like Mother....”

“No, Louie. I am not going, but you are. They have every right to be who they are. You could not love me had they not taught you how, and something in you that is very important to both of us will die if you cut yourself off from them. Besides, I have the best of both worlds: I have nice in-laws and I don't have to spend any time with them.”

I visited them regularly as before. Each time I would tell them the loving things he had said about them. Each time they would send me back with the car loaded with mother's best cakes and various baubles, such as pieces from her silver collection.... At one point she sent her engagement ring for him to make into a pendant.

Even to this day, both of us answer the phone in the same manner. Most friends can't tell which one has answered. Nor could either set of our parents while they were still alive. It often led to light humor.

Six years into our marriage, I picked up the phone. “I'd like to speak to my son, please.”

“But Dad, this is your son.”

“No, Louie. I want to speak to my other son.”

“This one's for you,” I whispered as I handed Ernest the phone.

“We're Christians,” Dad told Ernest, “but we have not behaved like Christians towards you, and we desperately need your forgiveness.”

“That's easy,” Ernest said. “You have it.”

“We want you and Louie to spend the weekend with us.” They arranged for 50 or more of their closest friends to drop by at intervals long enough for each to have a good conversation with us. Later we learned that other friends were disappointed to find they were not part of the inner circle. They wanted to meet Ernest too.

I not only believe in the Holy Spirit: I have seen the Holy Spirit happen.

Three years later mother and dad died, he seven months after she did. Knowing that I might not be with him when the end came, I said to him – forgive me, LGBTQ friends, this is not politically correct, it sounds like apologizing for who I am – I am trying to be honest with you the way I try to be honest with God, “Dad, I know that I have not been the son that you wanted, but I love you very much.”

He was down to 90 pounds He struggled to sit up and would not let me help him. He got eyeball to eyeball and said, “Louie, you have never been more wrong. You are the son that I wanted, and I love you very much.”

I realize that some of you may not have had a father that loved you like that. But let me tell you about my other father, because he's your father too. The God who made heaven and earth made you. You are the daughter God wants. You are the son God wants. Let your pride be in God's absolute love of you. Amen.

© 2012 Dr. Louie Crew

Pride Month Forum by Joan Garry

It's been a while since I have been to church. I do make exceptions for weddings and funerals, but I find myself antsy and, more importantly, unwelcomed. And this from the mouth of a woman who never sat in a classroom without a crucifix on the wall. Catholic grammar school, Catholic high school and then a Jesuit college. I don't know why it took a singular moment for me to stop attending mass with my mom when she comes to visit, but it did. A year or two ago, I read about a church in Maine that, for several weeks, passed two baskets. We used to call them 'special collections.' This one in particular was not at all special. The church was raising money so that it could fight a gay rights initiative in that state. I believe they did it for several weeks running. I bet they raised a few bucks.

And so here I am at church. And I'm actually feeling pretty good about it because (a) St. George's is an extraordinary congregation and (b) because I control the message. And (c), I have a few things to say and this setting seems quite right for them.

This morning I'd like to talk about what I think of as the "get out of jail free card" in the world of intolerance and bigotry. I'd like to talk about bullying in its broadest sense – not simply the obvious personal kind but the institutional variety as well. I want to offer some of my own observations about the success of the LGBT movement and what I think lies ahead. And be forewarned. I never speak to a group without calling them to action. It's great that you are here, listening to me but it is what you do with what you hear that matters the most.

So first a bit about me.

I live in Montclair with my partner of 30 years. We were among the earliest migrators to Montclair from Park Slope. We personally take credit for Montclair being the gayest suburb on the planet (well, maybe tied for gayest with Maplewood) on the planet.

We came here to have a family. And we did. We have three kids. Our eldest is 22 and in 1993 she became the first kid in the state of NJ to legally have two mothers as we secured NJ's first second parent adoption. Boy / girl twins followed. They are now 17 and juniors at Montclair High. Our 17 year old daughter is an out lesbian, so as our oldest daughter Scout notes, there is only one person in our household who likes boys.

Religion has been an important backdrop for the story that is our family story. I met Eileen in 1981. There were bullies everywhere we turned. Starting in the Oval Office - his name was Ronald Reagan. Our families were bullies too. Unsupportive is the kind word to use I guess. My mother goes to Mass nearly every day so perhaps I need say no more. Except to say there were a few years with no contact. Eileen's parents were Holocaust survivors. They survived thanks to an extraordinary inner strength and a profound belief that things could change. They attempted to apply this to Eileen's sexual orientation.

Eileen and I planned a family together. We spent the necessary time required to get our ducks in a row. Our first duckling, Scout was born in October 1989. Of course I remember the day well. But not just because I met Scout for the first time. It was also the first time I'd met Eileen's parents. For eight years they had managed around it. More accurately, we'd allowed them to manage around it. Picture the scene. I'm in the elevator at Mt. Sinai and being the nice girl I hold the door for an older man racing to the elevator. I recognized him from pictures. But Eileen's dad had never seen a picture of me. I introduced myself and congratulated him on the birth of his granddaughter. We rode the rest of the way in silence.
In the twenty five years I knew Eileen's mom, she never said my name out loud. The first time I set foot in Eileen's family home was the day her mom died. When Eileen's dad passed away, the rabbi neglected to mention three of Ben Opatut's grandchildren. Because the rabbi didn't know they even existed.

And while I joke that Eileen's parents learned persecution from the master, I am clear that there is more to it than that.

Our parents, like so many who consider themselves deeply religious, believe they have permission to discriminate, persecute – there are a lot of synonyms. You can choose your own.

Permission is granted and your ability to cast judgment, discriminate, and yes, bully comes when a religious institution hands you your special card. It's your "get out of jail free card," your "you are off the hook" card. It is what I call the "deeply held religious belief card or for short, the DHRB card."

My 85 year-old mom plays bridge twice a week. She is a walking poster child for the power of bridge to ensure that you stay sharp as a tack (long after people are kind of beginning to hope you might miss a few things from time to time). Anyway, she taught me about the trump card. That card you play that causes everyone else to fold.

In the eight years I ran a national gay rights organization, I cannot tell you how many times someone dropped the DHRB card down on the table and expected me to fold. Bill O'Reilly, Jerry Falwell, talk show host Dr. Laura Schlessinger. I can't tell you how many LGBT people and their straight allies become absolutely paralyzed when they see that card hit the table.

Now look, I don't want folks messing with my deeply held religious beliefs. I don't believe for one minute that I was born with a black mark on my soul. I am a member in good standing at Temple Ner Tamid in Bloomfield NJ. I really like to think that if I am especially good that I might get a chance to get another ride through life --- I am so enjoying this one. So don't you go messing with me on these things I hold dear (or hope for dearly).

But when the DHRB card is played as "cover," the only fool is the one who folds. It is time for us to shout from the rooftops that a DHRB card gives no one an ounce of permission, an ounce of power to wield against minorities. And it is never a free pass to bully.

I have no doubt that many of you followed the trial of Dharun Ravi, the Rutgers student who had secretly filmed his roommate, Tyler Clementi, in his words "making out with a dude." This appeared to be the straw for Mr. Clementi who took his own life. Mr. Ravi was convicted of charges of bias and intimidation and sentenced to 30 days in prison. At first blush, you find yourself thinking "30 days?" The judge ruled that the incident was not hate based and could not fathom incarcerating Mr. Ravi with murderers and rapists. My point of view? Dharun Ravi is not a murderer; he is a bully. Like one of many bullies that Tyler Clementi faced during his young life.

Tyler Clementi's family can take some degree of solace in knowing that their son's tragic death spawned the "It Gets Better" movement launched by author Dan Savage. I'm sure you have all seen one or more of these videos. My 17 year old just finished the book – a compilation of the most moving narratives.

Dan was one of the first folks the media turned to for reaction to Ravi's sentencing. Dan captured the sentiment of many of us when he said:

What was he told about being gay growing up, by his faith leaders, by the media, by the culture?" Mr. Savage said. "Ravi may have been the last person who made him feel unsafe and abused and worthless, but he couldn't have been the first.

Ravi was one in a long line of bullies in Tyler Clementi's life. And as Dan said, those bullies were not just standing by his high school locker. Many of them were standing in pulpits.

My friend Cindy Sherman (the guidance counselor, not the artist) is in charge of the anti-bullying initiative at Bloomfield High School. She pointed me to websites that she uses in working with teachers and students. A particularly good one is easy to remember: stopbullying.gov.

What is it exactly? Bullying? "An imbalance of power to control or harm others. The use of this power REPEATEDLY."

Goodness. We can probably all look inward and see ourselves in that definition at one time or another.

I learned on this site that there are three kinds of bullying --- verbal, physical and what they call social or relational bullying --- damaging someone's reputation or relationship, spreading rumors, embarrassing in public, telling others to shun this person. I guess this was largely Ravi's crime. And it's the easiest and most cowardly because you don't have to have the nerve to say it directly to someone's face.

This social bullying is not just an individual crime as Dan Savage points out. It's an institutional crime. The government, schools in states that are hardly as progressive as New Jersey. And yes, houses of worship. As I see it, playing the DHRB card is a prime example of social bullying. And along with a deep seated fear of difference, is at the core of homophobia.

So as a result, this is what we hear:

"The Bible tells me that homosexuality is wrong and so I am sorry but I don't think you should be teaching my kids."

Sure, I know there are kids throughout the state of Florida languishing in foster care but the (PLAY THE DHRB CARD) homosexuality is wrong and kids should not grow up in gay households.

You get the idea.

Here's the other important thing I learned about bullying. Standing behind every harassed child is a whole lot of clueless adults.

I'd like you to consider that statement as it relates to the road to LGBT equality. Standing behind every LGBT person? A whole lot of clueless people. Our job? Well there are certain folks we'll never get. But converting the clueless is the path to victory. How? By sticking out.

I think gay and lesbian people walk this fine line. We want to tell these stories. We want folks to know the realities. But we want to fit in, to be treated like everyone else. We want to be just another couple at the neighborhood barbeque or the cantor at the synagogue. But in order to get the rights we deserve we have to talk. A lot. We need to tell our stories. We have to stick out.

And the challenge in that is so many of us never thought we'd ever even get the chance to fit in that we worry about risking it by sticking out.

I get that there is a risk in sticking out. And some people think that you can't live behind a white picket fence and stick out at the same time.

I'm here to tell you that you can.

And I'm here to tell you that we must. Or we will not win. Unless we tell our stories, we will not win. Until we know our facts, we will not win. Until we make ourselves a little uncomfortable, we will not win. Until we are willing to make others a little uncomfortable, we will not win.

An example. My nephew got married last year. Timothy Garry (did I mention that my family is Irish?) and his fiancée asked me to officiate their wedding. I was flattered and disconcerted all at the same time. But of course I said 'yes.' It went well. I did a really good job. And I wonder how many people there took note of the irony. I could marry my nephew but not Eileen.

Later, at the reception, there was this lovely moment. They asked all the married couples to come on to the dance floor. In increments of 5, they asked couples to remain on the dance floor if they'd been married 5 years, then 10 years, then 20, then 25, then 30.

Did we fit in or did we stick out? Eileen didn't want to hit the dance floor. "Married" they said, she whispered. I saw my brother, the father of the groom, looking at us, hopeful that we would join. And then Eileen did what she does so well. She paused. A good long time. At least it felt like that. Long enough for many eyes to turn in our direction. Progressive eyes. Pot smoking college buddies of my brother. The eyes of my Republican siblings. The eyes of my very Catholic mother. I watched as they connected the dots. Some of them perhaps mindful that I had just officiated the wedding. Eileen waited long enough to make everyone just a little bit uncomfortable. And then she stood up. And as the only same sex couple on the floor and one of the last remaining standing couples, we stuck out and fit in all at the same time.

So I guess what I am saying is this. It is time for those of us who are out to REALLY come out. To stick out. To make people a bit uncomfortable. To go out on a limb. To refuse to fold when the DHRB card gets played. To tell our stories.

To use a metaphor that should resonate here, the choir needs to study the sheet music, know it cold and sing at the top of our lungs.

And then we need to ask our straight allies to come out and sing, too. To come out as allies, to stand with us. Without our straight neighbors, family and friends, we will not win.

But we have a lot of work to do. Because far too often, straight progressive allies are either too complacent or are far too often are ill informed. Maybe we have misled people into thinking we have things we don't really have. Maybe it's not easy to tell a progressive they don't know everything. I'm not sure.

Well-meaning, progressive people have said to me: the struggle for gay equality is THE civil rights issue of our time. And when I then mention that the United States Commission on Civil Rights, the independent commission responsible for pushing LBJ toward the Voting Rights Act of 1964 does not include gay rights issues in its docket, those same people are stunned. As far as I'm concerned, if you fancy yourself progressive, you don't get the title without doing the work.

My current favorite straight progressive person who walks the walk? Vice President Joe Biden. First off, I ran a gay rights organization for nearly a decade (GLAAD) that was all about the power of media to change hearts and minds. So I'm kvelling when Biden says that Will and Grace had more influence than many other things in changing attitudes about LGBT people. But he doesn't stop there. Then he speaks from the heart, indicates his support for marriage equality and wins the prize for making people uncomfortable. In this case, every senior official at the White House. I love Joe Biden.

This is what it will take. And by the way, even when we lose, we win. An opportunity to argue about what is just and right and fair, even if we lose in the short term on certain issues, is an opportunity to be visible, to open up a few eyes and equally as many hearts.

One last story - The success of The Avengers at the box office has led me to consider the notion of superpowers. And my thoughts about superpowers strayed to my sexual orientation. I imagined that many people would see it as my kryptonite. As a liability. Something to overcome. And I could understand why. We are an unprotected minority – second class citizens.

But I do not believe that my sexual orientation is my kryptonite.

I see it as my super power.

I would guess that a lot of folks, gay and straight, would think that if gay people were given one wish, it would be to become straight. Not me. Not now. Not ever.

You see, I have a perspective and a view of the world that is clearer and enriched by my difference.  I take less for granted.  Eileen and I created our family with intention.  We had to be bold. We chose to stick out. We made choices that were not easy.  I came out to my parents and traveled a journey with them that enriched every member of my family.  And I am a stronger person having dealt with Eileen's parents who, in 25 years, never spoke my name.

It is because of my difference that I have found my voice. That I have chosen work that matters. And that my commitment to social justice feels so urgent.

These are the kind of gifts that come with diversity.

And by the way, the movement for gay and lesbian equality IS the civil rights movement of our time. It presents us all with an opportunity to speak out, stand up and to do something. I think that may be why they call it a movement.

Thanks so much for having me here.

© 2012 Joan M. Garry

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

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

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

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Voice of Truth

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

John the Baptist knew how to grab his audience’s attention. "You brood of vipers, who warned you to flee the wrath to come?" This certainly isn’t the opening line of a stewardship sermon, but one has to admit that it’s an effective sound bite. It still works two thousand years later!

Last Monday during the rally for Marriage Equality in Trenton I joined several others from St. George’s and even more from the Diocese of Newark including our Bishop in support of the legislation to change the terminology of Civil Union to Marriage for same gender couples. Although I hadn’t been planning on it, I was brought in with a group of clergy around 7 pm that evening after a day of testimonies. The organizers wanted to make sure the Senators heard a balanced view from the wider church, which usually speaks out against marriage equality. So I took my turn at the microphone. Since I hadn’t been planning on speaking I hadn’t written anything down. I wonder how it would have gone over if I began my remarks with the same line that John used.

"You brood of vipers..." Like John’s audience, do you suppose they would have lined up and asked "What must we do?" I could have said, "If you voted ‘No’ in the past, vote ‘yes" now." And then those who had voted "yes" could have come forward and said, "And us, what should we do?" Sagely, I would instruct them them, that if they had voted "yes" in the past, to vote that way again and get the others to do likewise!

Meanwhile, back on Earth, I did tell them that when a couple comes to me for a marriage or Civil Union I’m aware that I’m accomplishing two things. The first is officiating over a legal contract authorized by the state. The second is that I’m blessing the commitment they make on behalf of the church. I told them further, that I really love weddings and Civil Unions and that just as I believe God is love and that the love of any couple reflects that, I bless each one equally in the name of God and for the community of faithful. I do my part on behalf of the church and I urge them to do their part on behalf of the state and guarantee that each couple is married equally. I’ve spoken before many church and religious bodies, but this was a first for me in speaking before a group of elected officials who have a far reaching authority. My knees were knocking but my voice was clear!

I do get charged up by the blatant and stubborn hypocrisy of those who think separate and equal actually works. Even the critters on Animal Farm know when some are more equal than others. I can understand and identify with the passion of John the Baptist shouting to those gathered at the Jordan River, You brood of vipers! And although I know it would have done little to nothing to serve my cause, it would have felt really good to do so.

One of the beauties of the Bible is that is speaks the language of the heart without having to temper it to subtle or political realities. John is a figure that embodies passionate and urgent zeal in matters of the soul. He cuts through pretense and says what many of us wish we could say in the different worlds in which we live. When we struggle with issues of justice, fairness or even excitement we’re often hobbled by restraint when we really want to shout out true feelings and beliefs. We want to be heard in the unvarnished truth of our convictions.

John is portrayed in scripture and art as a wildly dressed character in the wild terrain by the Jordan River. It should be remembered that he was the son of Elizabeth and Zechariah who were well placed in society. Zechariah was a high priest and that came with social position. Young John would have been brought up as a civilized young man. But what a wonderful depiction of someone swept up in the passion of their beliefs. There is an attractive wildness of a person of conviction who has found their voice and speaks their truth.

People gather and want to hear it. Even those who don’t necessarily believe it are drawn to the oratory. When John preached repentance the most unlikely people came out to listen. Tax collectors and soldiers. These are people feared and hated by most others because of the authority they had and the corrupt ways in which they lived which hurt innocent people. Yet they too came to John and asked "What must we do?" To the innocent bystander the answer seemed rather obvious. "Don’t hurt us, don’t steal from us, don’t terrorize us."

But ironically, the questions means that in this case the soldiers and tax collectors had lost their own moral compass to where even those easy answers were not visible.

All of us can get so carried away in our everyday lives, and all too often, drift in the moorings of authenticity and integrity that we lose sight of what is right. I believe that at heart each of us wants to be righteous and in a world that seems to be ambiguous with many shades of gray, it’s often difficult to find the right path. Sometimes, though it’s very plain, just difficult to do. Hearing a voice of truth cutting through the noise and urging us to do the right things is compelling, even when it might difficult to do them.

Equally important is finding our voice and tapping into the passion and conviction to risk going out of our comfort zone; to risk the negative reaction of others, if that happens, but to go out on a limb for what we believe.

This third Sunday of Advent has a special name and it’s related to why we light the rose colored candle. In Latin, the name of this week is Gaudate. The season of Advent was originally somber and penitential. It’s lost some of that quality in the midst of Christmas parties and shopping, but it was even referred to once and a Little Lent. Taken in that light, this week was set aside as one to be joyful in the midst of all the solemnity; a way of saying, "We’re almost there!"

Our reading from St. Paul’s epistle to the Philippians says "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice." Our passions generally flow from a truth deep within us that is related to our faith. It might be an articulated faith in God, but just as easily it might be an unarticulated faith in our deepest beliefs about justice and fairness. Whether the cause is marriage Equality, homelessness, hunger, or peace; perhaps art or music, passions tap into a deep sense of who we are and what gives us life. It’s in that place where we meet God the most. Advent is a time to give voice to our passions that prepare a way for God to live in us and inspire us to grow and expand beyond our comfort zones and break the boxes previously lived in.

Some people at the Jordan thought that John might be the Messiah, but he dissuaded that talk and said that he baptized with water, but hat one would come later who was more powerful, and who would baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire.

When we’re in touch with our passions, they burn inside us and give voice to our deepest selves. I know from personal experience that the deepest self is the most difficult to let out because it is the one most vulnerable. A comment that is heard so often is, "if they saw the real me, they wouldn’t like me." That’s fear speaking. It’s the deepest selves and most fiercely felt passions that make us our most interesting and compelling people.

John encourages us and Jesus lights the fire that makes justice and mercy burn within us. Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice. Let your gentleness be know to everyone. The Lord is near. And the peace of God which passes all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

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

"Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low"

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

In the Gospel this morning we read that John the Baptist began his ministry of repentance in the region of Galilee. Those who heard of him recalled the writings of the Prophet Isaiah who spoke of a messenger crying in the wilderness to prepare the way of the Lord. To make the crooked ways straight and have the mountains and hills be made low. That all flesh shall see the salvation of God.

It was a wonderful prophecy and what excitement John must have generated to be associated with it. The place of this story in the Advent season is important since in the Gospels Jesus hadn’t yet made his appearance. The people were still waiting and hoping. John’s refreshing ministry was a sign to the faithful that something was about to happen. Some thought that John was the one they’re waiting for, but John discouraged that belief and pointed to one who was to come later. In the meantime, John preached repentance.

"Repentance" is a word that for me conjures up dire warnings of the end of world. Comic book characters wearing sandwich boards to induce groveling remorse for past ill deeds. As dramatically attractive as that can be, that’s not it’s real meaning. It literally means "to turn around." It means to change direction to one that is more positive and healthy. Such a change implies the recognition that the direction one was heading in was a mistake, but it means that the correction can be made and the new direction found. Repentance and the forgiveness of sins. That was John’s message as they waited for Jesus. One of the ways we know we might be traveling down the wrong road is that people get hurt by us. Part of turning around is to see where injury has been caused by us and seek forgiveness.

Last year at the Diocesan convention I saw a woman from one of my former parishes who was also a delegate. We had seen each other several times since my return to this Diocese, and our contact was characterized by the kind of formal courtesy reserved for people who are trying to make the best of running into someone they would rather not have run into. And the fault was mine.

An action I took as curate some twenty five years ago hurt her more deeply than I realized. For many years I wasn’t even aware of it. But once I became aware it, it was too embarrassing to confront, especially since so much time had passed and I wasn't even in the state any more. Coming to Maplewood and returning to this Diocese it was only a matter of time since we crossed paths and we did. At our last convention, when I saw her, I thought to myself that this has gone on long enough.

She agreed when I asked if I could talk to her and I told her I owed her a long overdue apology. The passage of twenty five years seemed to evaporate when talking about the incident. We discussed it, I offered an apology which she accepted. We had both made a mountain smooth and watched the elephant that stood between us leave the room. There is now warmth when we meet. And I wonder what took me so long.

The love of God enters when we make room. In the meantime, as I certainly discovered, ego and pride make mountains and valleys that are hard to negotiate. No matter how we may try not to make mistakes, it is impossible, the work is then to recognize where we have left the path of integrity and faithful relationship and try to get back on it. That’s repentance. And doing the work often takes asking forgiveness from someone.

A time honored phrase in the United States system of government is "separation of Church and State." Despite that description, they seem to bump into each other a lot!

Our Episcopal Church is dealing with an issue active in national and state politics as well. Namely gay and lesbian rights. New Jersey has a vote coming up this week whether or not to change the existing Civil Union terminology to Marriage as the legal status between same gender couples. We have many gay and lesbian couples in this parish for whom this is particularly important, and some of us who still have our Hope Chests packed! One of the hopes in that chest is that the term "marriage" will be available in that golden someday! We have a representative from the Garden State Equality group here today to discuss the issue more fully after the service. But suffice it to say the divisions in the church and state over this issue are as perplexing as they heart breaking. Equality is not a gift one group bestows upon another. It is a right that all share and should not be bartered, ignored, or blocked.

While we face the issue of marriage equality in this country, across the globe Uganda is putting forward legislation to make homosexuality a crime punishable by both imprisonment and execution. The mountainous level of cruelty and absurdity defies description. Even advocates for the rights of those so treated would be liable for prosecution. Recent atrocities of ethnic cleansing as well as the Holocaust stand as horrific witnesses of the ability of nations to distract the public from the substantial issues of poverty, hunger, homelessness, illiteracy, the abuse of women and children, political corruption and irresponsibility - and focus it on who is loving who as though it’s a crime.

From criminalizing homosexuality to denying human rights like marriage, the international community has made mountains out of mole hills. John the Baptist calls us to repent and take those mountains, and put them back into mole hills so that all people shall see the salvation of our God.

Yesterday morning the state of California made the news again. Rather, the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles. For the first time since the National Church lifted the moratorium on electing openly gay Bishops, a partnered Lesbian named Mary Glasspool was elected Bishop Suffragan. The mountains are going to shake.

Progress doesn’t come easily. History has shown time and again it comes in fits and starts and painfully. The scriptures often refer to progress arriving like a woman in the travail of childbirth. But in both cases, once it starts, there’s no going back!

Advent is a season of waiting. It’s a reminder that the love of God comes in wonderful ways and always in unexpected ways. There are so many issues that press upon us. National and international struggles, local and family struggles and challenges. We all have changes to make, obstacles to those changes, and yet the promise of grace as we work through them.

It does seem like a wilderness at times in which we have lost our way. The direction doesn’t always seem clear and we don’t always know when we’re right or wrong. The words of Isaiah and John the Baptist are comforting in that they say there is a voice in the wilderness to guide us. It says Prepare the way of the Lord. The way is prepared with love. The road is paved with justice. And we will eventually all see the salvation of our God, and discover that it’s been here all the time, because that’s what gives us the courage to fill the valleys and make the mountains low. Amen.

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

Imagine

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Imagine. Imagine yourself so desperate to be healed that you would fight a crowd to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment. Imagine the realization that he knew what happened and turned to find out who did it. Imagine the thoughts that would go through your mind, weighing whether or not you should admit it, or run away before anyone found out. Imagine stepping forward fearfully, wondering if Jesus would take the healing back and push you back into the pit of your disease. Now imagine the smile on Jesus’ face when he looked happily at you and shared your joy. Imagine being stunned that after so many years of illness, he told you that your faith has made you well, go in peace and be healed.

The woman in this story has no name given, imagine it was you. Now ask yourself, what might you have inside that would make you so desperate that you would risk the crowd and your fears to touch that hem.

The healing stories are among the most numerous in the Gospels. And in most cases there is a common thread, namely, the person in need such as the woman in today’s lesson, or someone on behalf of the person in need - such as Jairus on behalf of his daughter - approaches Jesus and asks, begs, or even takes the healing. And even though the individual cases differ, there is no one who is turned away. No one is told “no”. One notable difference is the way Jesus handled the death of his friend Lazarus. In that case he was asked to come quickly, much the same as Jairus. He didn’t say “no”, but he didn’t hurry either and Lazarus died. To Martha and Mary that must have seemed like a great big “NO” to them, but it turned out to be a greater good.

I find these healing stories to be fascinating. Ultimately I wrestle with their factual quality versus their spiritual quality. There are plenty of stories in each of our lives where physical healing has occurred to ourselves or someone we know that appear quite miraculous and in response to prayer. And there are also many tragic stories where the answer to desperate prayers seems to be “no”. When the answer appears to be “no” is it an imperfect faith that has failed or an imperfect God that closes the door? These are haunting questions, for which I for one, do not have the answers. It doesn’t stop me from praying however. Part of my personal faith is accepting that I don’t have the whole picture yet. I have learned that what I want is not always what is best. That doesn’t stop me from praying either. That little bit of insight simply shapes my prayer into making my requests known to God while remaining open to the outcome, certain that in the end my healing is God’s desire for me. Where I have to remain open is coming to understand what shape that healing takes.

Today is Gay Pride Sunday in New York City and it gets world wide attention. A vast community of Gay people and their straight friends witness and advocate in a parade not asking, but demanding healing. Demanding that the legal system statewide and nationally give full equality and protection from bias and hate. Claiming the spiritual healing that comes from not asking for equality, but fully acknowledging that despite the legal realities, we are equal.

I remember being tortured as a child by my own fears of being gay and the ostracism and danger I risked. I remembered my desperate prayers to be healed, made straight. I remember all too well the anguish I felt at God’s apparent silence and non-responsiveness. I prayed deeply and the answer seemed to keep coming back, “NO.” Was I not faithful enough, or good enough to heard? Was I already lost and left behind? Was I so awful as not even to be noticed by God? I was not only touching that hem, I was pulling it! Jesus couldn’t have helped but notice!!

The healing I sought came in a different way. It came by slowly over time understanding God’s love for me just as I am. Being gay is a rich quality of my character that informs how I see the world, form relationships with men and women. How I enter platonic or romantic intimacy. Even my humor and how I choose to decorate my home. It’s no better or worse than anyone else, it’s just who I am and part of who God made me to be. It is one facet of this particular diamond in the rough that God keeps polishing over the years of my being. There are many other facets, some smoother and rougher than others. My point here is that healing came not as I had asked for, but as I needed it. God did answer, and I believe is smiling, but I had to lift my head to see it, and open my hears and heart to receive it.

My healing is not evenly celebrated throughout the world. I am so fortunate and blessed that it is recognized here in this congregation, this Diocese and to some degree this state, but certainly not to the degree it will be one day. Parades are important, though the media will focus on the more exotic elements, and reinforce the negative rather than the positive understandings of what is hoped to be achieved. The struggles that take place in so many ways are also important in which ever arena they happen. But most importantly, the setting for healing must take place in the spirit of the individual who feels God’s love personally saying, “you are well, you faith has healed you, go in peace.” The disease that is healed at least in my case, was that of fear and self loathing. The healing that happened brought peace and self acceptance and deep knowing that I am loved by God who made me as I am and loves me. I have seen similar healing in other gay and lesbian people and I celebrate it. I have seen healing in straight people whose prejudice and even hatred and violence has been replaced by understanding and warmth if not, in fact, love.

All of us need healing in one form or another. In most cases the heed for healing will be within our bodies minds or spirits. It might be in our relationships or about finding our place in the world. Ironically we’ll discover that we don’t have the full picture on any given issue and that our prayers may appear to go unanswered or unnoticed. But I believe with my whole being that is not the case. Our prayer brings whatever awareness we have to the surface, so that it is not we who have God’s attention, but God who finally has ours.

None of us can afford to stop praying for healing for ourselves or others. There’s a lot that needs to be healed physically, emotionally and spiritually. Like the woman in the story each of us will have a time when we are so desperate about something that we will fight the crowd to claim the healing that Jesus will lovingly give. Whatever healing you need, I encourage you to reach out, risk what you fear to know that God’s love will surprise you with an incredible healing energy that you may not even realize has been at work in you until much later.

This wonderful woman in the Gospel story sought Jesus in quiet desperation to heal something that she had dealt with for many years. She later experienced fear and trembling after claiming her healing. And then experienced the ecstasy of hearing her savior tell her she was healed. That woman was healed in so much more than her body that day. So many of our illnesses are physical or emotional reflections of the illnesses we keep in our spirits. Accepting God’s love, and healing the spirit within radiates outward and takes many different forms - emotionally, physically, even in society. Imagine that. Amen.

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

Home Again

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

It feels good to be back home and very good to be back in this pulpit. I preached in several interesting places including a monastic chapel and a Cathedral in South Africa, a village church and Cathedral in England. The monastic chapel is a relatively new building and the Rochester Cathedral is among the oldest in Britain. The memories of all those places are like a kaleidoscope of images accompanied by memories of the sounds of drums and ethereal choirs. But of all the pulpits I entered, this is still the one that fits best. There are many stories to tell and lessons learned. I have some to share and I already know that you do as well. Our sabbaticals were each times of exploration, learning and prayerful journey. One of my favorite quotes is from T.S. Eliot and it says: “We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started... and know the place for the first time.” I feel a bit of that now, grateful to have gone, and even more grateful to be back.

As the weeks unfold, so will the stories, but today we have some other kinds of celebration and transitions to observe. We’ll start by looking at the readings.

The lessons today give nice images of new life, growth and hope. Ezekiel wrote of a sprig being taken from the top of a mighty cedar tree and becoming the start of a new tree that would be a haven for birds and beasts. He even goes so far as to say that it will bear fruit. We need to remember that Ezekiel is a prophet, he’s not a botanist. Cedars don’t bear fruit, but the image still works in terms of the growth of the new sprig and the abundance of protection it offers. Ezekiel is writing to a people in exile and giving them hope of new beginnings and a return to their homeland. The image is itself a seed to plant the imagining of a new Israel in the future. In an earlier chapter he uses the metaphor of the cedar to refer to their former line of kings. In the segment we read, clipping the top of the old tree is the suggestion that the royal family will be restored someday. It is in fact the seed of the expectation that a messiah will come to restore that line.

The Gospel echoes this story with the parable of the mustard seed. Again, we have to let go of botanic accuracy in favor of literary license. It’s not really the smallest of all the seeds on the earth, but it’s small. And who hasn’t picked up any tiny seed and been amazed at the tree or shrub that grows out of it? Any growth is a wonder and Jesus uses it here to make the point of both growth and protection. The birds make their nests in the shade of this shrub where they will be safe.

I decided to do some research on this image and although I don’t have a mustard shrub in the yard, I do have some nice trees and I went outside when it wasn’t raining, sat down and watched one. Watching a tree can be very instructive. As for the tree I watched, I noticed that some birds do in fact have a nest in it, while others simply came for various periods of time and flew off. Not all the birds got along and some got along very well. Occasionally one would chirp, sing or coo. But that’s not all. Not only birds are to be found it the trees. There were squirrels and the neighbors cat sat curiously poised, alternately looking at me and then the tree, no doubt like my neighbors wondering what I was doing and why I was there. (It had occurred to me to disguise my intent by holding an open book in my lap, but I decided to keep my focus uncluttered by deception or embarrassment.) I glared at the cat, daring it to go up the tree, it left shortly after. I think it was shaking its head, but I could be wrong.

I counted several varieties of birds and just meditated a bit on the miracle of the seed that took root so many years ago. The kingdom of heaven is like this tree too, I imagined.

The art of the parable is to look at it in different layers. There are some generally accepted interpretations, but there’s no one way to understand them and each person who studies one will have a different take on it.

We have a lot happening today in the life of this parish and while I watched the tree I imagined that it was St. George’s like the kingdom of God where some make nests and stay for a long time raising families, while others are here for a shorter time and will make their nests in another tree. But all in all, it’s a miracle.

We come here to find God, to discover and develop a relationship with God and be enriched by a community engaged in their own pursuit of God. And that is the Kingdom of Heaven. It’s not without squirrely challenges and catlike struggles, (sorry, but I had to put those in somewhere) but over time it’s a place dedicated to the pursuit of the “holy”.

During June we celebrate graduations of our children from various grades or schools and some of our seasonal programs end. At the family service we celebrated and thanked the church school teachers and their fearless leader, Jane Cates. At this service we will be thanking our choir for their work and dedication over the past year. We will also be thanking Mary Davis for her work and ministry among us as she concludes her time with us. I can also say now that she was interviewed yesterday by the Commission on Ministry and approved for the next level of her process and she is now officially a candidate in this labyrinthine journey to ordination.

Today we also observe Juneteenth, commemorating June 19, 1865 when General Gordon Granger informed the people of Galveston, Texas that slavery was over. General Order # 3 was read aloud stating:

"The people of Texas are informed that in accordance with a Proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free. This involves an absolute equality of rights and rights of property between former masters and slaves, and the connection heretofore existing between them becomes that between employer and free laborer."

Hats are worn today as a gracious tribute to the traditions of African American women and the crowns they represent from the heritage of proud African dress.

June is also the month of Gay Pride with parades and marches scheduled in many different towns and cities giving witness to the need for further equality and justice. These marches like almost every other march for justice is sometimes met with cheering and welcome and at other times met with jeers, insults, arrest and violence.

In this church this morning we all rest in the shade of this great tree of God’s love. We represent and participate in one or more of the many facets of life celebrated this day or this month. We do so in community and in sharing God’s love. We do so claiming our own voices and in support of our brothers and sisters who are claiming theirs.

Sometimes I like to come in here when it’s quiet and walk around. I like to look at the plaques and memorials and wonder at the people who were here before us. What kind of shade were they looking for and what kind did they find? Using Ezekiel’s image, were they seeds for shrubs or trees? How high did they grow and how high will we grow while protecting the little sprouts in our care?

With all its graduations and celebrations, June is a month that marks transitions and life changes. It watches movements occur in our lives. But like the birds of the parable, we may go from branch to branch or tree to tree in the kingdom of God we are assured that God is a safe secure roost for our wanderings. We may go from place to place, but God is there wherever we go ready to give us shelter, protection and hope. That is the Kingdom of God. Amen.

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