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

An Advent People

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The Gospel lesson presents strange and disturbing images. Jesus mentions "signs in the sun, moon and stars, distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and waves. People fainting from fear and foreboding, the powers of the heavens shaken.

This reading is in the "apocalyptic style" and describes the end of the world in a language of images and in a literary genre common to that era. The style describes a world turned upside down, a world in pain, confusion and turmoil. A world marked by violence. A world looking for God.

It’s not such an unusual genre. One of the current box office hits is a movie called 2012, about the end of the world as foretold in an ancient Mayan prophecy. Unlike our scriptures, the Mayans apparently are quite explicit about the date the world will end, and apparently for two and a half hours the characters arrange deck chairs on the global Titanic.

People of all generations and cultures have predicted the end of the world in the languages of their religions and sciences. And after a while I begin to wonder if it’s fear of this possibility or a sad hope. Sometimes what we say we fear the most is a veiled way of expressing what we really hope for.

Apocalyptic stories in the scriptures are accompanied by warnings or predictions of wars, famines and large scale suffering. Truthfully, the world has never been without these things. The level of suffering is so great and the solutions seem so colossal and out of reach that in frustration, the only option may seem for God to destroy the world and start again. That’s the basic story line of Noah’s Ark and the apocalyptic stories are offshoots of that one.

But not all of the stories end in total destruction. Some of the stories offer hope and redemption. In our first lesson, Jeremiah wrote of hope. Jeremiah was a prophet who wrote during a period of Israel’s history in which the leading citizens of the country had been captured by the Babylonians and led away to be relocated hundreds of miles away leaving Jerusalem in a heap of ruin. Jeremiah watched the world he knew reduced to rubble in Apocalyptic proportion and still he wrote faithfully in the promise of God to restore them. He began to write of the rise of a messiah, another king in the line of David who would emerge and lead them in a new age of righteousness and justice. This messiah became the hope of a nation and each generation looked for him to be revealed.

When Jesus came, those who met him were uncertain at first. Some came to believe, others didn’t. He didn’t act the way they were taught to expect. He didn’t raise an army or overthrow the occupying forces. Rather, he talked of love and forgiveness, not war or vengeance. It’s not what they expected, but it was compelling never the less. Many followed and their world was also turned upside down when he was crucified. And like the prophets of old he pointed to the future when another would come. But unlike the prophets before him, he told them it would be he who would return.

The world has spun up and down ever since. Each generation watching the world it knew change, totter, fall, and from its ashes another rise. So many of these generations remember the words of Jesus saying to look at the clouds for his return. Christians today also look to the sky for Jesus to return, but in ways we don’t agree on. In our Creed we say we believe he will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead and his kingdom will have no end. This belief places us in the category of an Advent people. A people of expectation. We are marked as followers of Christ who believe that though the earth and it’s powers rise and fall, God is constant and comes to restore God’s people.

We sometimes fall into the same trap that some biblical characters fell into. We allow our expectations and hope determine how we believe God will appear. In so doing, we run the risk of missing God altogether.

The season of Advent serves as a reminder that God came to earth in the person of Jesus; that God has come and that God will come again and again and again to save us from ourselves, for the sole reason of love. The prophets and writers continually draw our attention to this hope. We turn to our traditions for inspiration and grounding as we live in a world that changes and challenges us.

Hope is fragile in the wake of economic crisis, and war, and senseless cruelty. Our literature and entertainment options often suggest blowing it all up, as though expressing the common frustration of a weary public. But among the voices in the Bible expressing hope, Jesus suggests looking at the fig tree and draws a lesson of hope in it. Whether the fig tree or any tree, we see the buds and know that summer is near.

Whenever we give food to the hungry, or offer shelter to the homeless, or march and stand up for justice and the intrinsic value of God’s people we are seeing the buds on a tree of life that makes the promise of God closer.

It’s not the world we need to destroy, but the evil in it. The world is an incredibly beautiful place and so many people are truly wonderful and loving. God so loved the world that he became human to show us the way of grace and love. It’s very simple. It’s not always easy, but it starts with us living lives that reflect God’s love and hope.

Jesus told his disciples another curious thing. He said, "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away." The words he embodied were love, justice and peace. Regardless of what else happens, these words remain and remain true. As people of Advent the truth of these words in the past, helps us be open to their truth in the future.

May our worship and prayers make us strong to face the challenges of hope. May the armor of light St. Paul talks about and which we used in our opening collect shield us from the frustrations of the worlds’ pain and inspire us to be healers. And even in the worst of life’s events may we see the hopeful buds of God’s grace creating new life and possibilities. Amen.

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

What's in a Name?

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Juliet, under the prompting of William Shakespeare, asked "What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." And perhaps it would, but she was to discover that names are indeed very important. Names are essential for communication and understanding. They evoke emotional responses. Perhaps joy and anticipation. Perhaps warning or fear. Perhaps anger.

Children call out that "sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never harm me". Again, that may be true in a physical sense, but it’s more complicated than that as the children get older.

In the Bible names are very important. From the beginning with creation, the naming of the animals and even of people is a thoughtful process full of significance. If there is a name used in the Bible, you can believe it’s not used casually. And it needs to be looked at.

In the first lesson God sends the prophet Elijah to Zarephath, which belongs to Sidon." Does that raise any red flags for you? Well, it certainly would have for the writer and first readers of these scriptures. The Israelites hated Sidon, and all of its parts including Zarephath. Sidon had been a powerful state near the Mediterranean Sea in what is now southern Lebanon and had controlled Israel for a while. The Hebrew scriptures have many nasty references to Sidon with heartfelt pleas for God to destroy it. King Solomon had married a Sidonian princess in an attempt to make a treaty and that backfired, spiritually speaking when she brought her gods and upset the religious practices of the courts. Sidon was also the home of such villainous luminaries as the legendary Jezebel who married King Ahab many generations later and created havoc in her own right.

So it would have been quite shocking to hear that God sends Elijah there on a mission of mercy. Not only the enemy state, but to a widow of all people and her son who might, for all they know, turn into a soldier who might attack them some day. Elijah saved them from starvation.

Quite shocking indeed.

Widows and foreigners, especially hated foreigners, play a large role in the teaching of the scriptures since they are socially the least of the least. The were considered beneath contempt, and yet the point is that in God’s love they are seen, heard, and provided for. They are loved and valued. So, of course, Elijah would be sent to her because she was in need. The widow in the Gospel story is also an important figure because of the teaching of her gift to the poor. None were poorer than she, and yet she gave to help others. These women, whom scripture doesn’t even name, are known to God and to us so many millennia later.

It’s no accident that these stories of giving are in the Lectionary around the time that most churches are engaged in their stewardship programs. Like the stories we’ve been hearing from parishioners, these stories can be helpful in giving us some inspiration to pray about our own giving in general and our pledge to St. George’s in particular. Each of the stories has been personal and unique. Each person who has told their story expressed some powerful feelings after sharing. It reminds me that we don’t often get the opportunity to tell our stories to each other. We get busy with committee work or other business and overlook the deeper conversations untold. Sometimes the action of putting our lives in a brief outline and articulating our values, needs and hopes crystallizes it in our own minds as well as offering inspiration to others.

And at its core, that’s what giving is all about. Sharing ourselves as a way of growing. As a way of stretching and discovering parts of ourselves even as we share it with others. Personally, when my sermons include deeper stories from my past I get deeper feedback from people who identify. I have to tell you, it’s not easy to reveal some of the stories and truths, especially the painful ones or those that highlight my foolishness. Still, they seem to get the deepest resonance and not surprisingly since we all share core vulnerabilities as well as strengths. I have to admit that when I share even the most painful stories from this pulpit or in other forums that I felt stronger and a sense of healing. It’s a gift to be able to share personal stories because of the growth it offers. It’s also a gift to be able to give of our time, talent and treasure for the same reasons.

Most of us experience fears and insecurities about all sorts of things. We want to put up shields and pull in, especially at times of scarcity or uncertainty. We all do this to some degree. And yet we do so at our own peril. Fear and insecurity might cut us off from the people and activities that we enjoy and that keep us alive in our most basic sense. We might be afraid that what little we have will be taken away.

The scriptures don’t tell us how these widows fared after the stories we read took place. I would like to believe that they were all right. But the lessons they teach us is that if anyone had reason to pull in and hold tight to what they had, it was them. Ye they gave because in doing so, they lived.

For those of you who are members of St. George’s and who are prepared to pledge today, you may have brought the pledge card that was sent in the mail to you. If not, there are pledge cards on the pews and in stacks by the doors. We hope you’ll be ready to place them in the offering plate when it comes by later on, or mail it in when you can.

Part of membership is the support of the ministry of the church and that includes the finances. Yet, it also needs to be stated clearly that the pledge should be realistic and given with confidence and faith. If circumstances change during the year, the pledge can be modified up or down as you direct.

There is a spirituality to giving that is very important. God works through us to accomplish great things, even if they appear small. But in order to do that, we need to make ourselves available to God through the actions of giving. It calls for risk and vulnerability. And through it we discover the strength and joy we never thought possible.

One of the gifts being given today is a tricycle. It is a bitter, sweet gift. Given in memory of Gabriel Batista who died at age two almost a year ago, this tricycle will be blessed and donated by his parents Suzette and Miguel and his grandmother Yolanda to the family shelter in Irvington called Turning Point Community Services. Deacon Chris McCloud is the Director of the shelter and some of our members sit on the board. This gift will go to a child at the shelter.

Grief can do many things to us. At its worst, it can make us withdraw from life and shut out any rays of sunlight or joy. Or grief might lead us to offer ourselves to God’s service in helping others who struggle with similar challenges. Miguel and Suzette met several families at the hospital during Gabriel’s illness and even through their grief have continued to minister to those families with support and prayers.

The work of the church is to provide a place of hope and healing as well as be a center of pray and worship. We take God’s call seriously to minister to everyone who comes to us and to those God sends us to in strange and beautiful ways.

I was once asked to visit an elderly Jewish man in his last days. When I arrived in my collar he looked up at me with an expression of surprise and said sardonically, "What are YOU doing here?" And I said, "I don’t know, but since I’m here, how about we talk." And we had a good talk that day about the journey he was about to take.

We cannot know what is in store for us each day, but we need to be engaged in life in all its aspects to live into the gift of life that God has given us and to be of service to others. Sometimes it easier than others and sometimes we just need to get through to the next day and hope it’s better. But in all things God is near and calling us to move forward. Forward in love, forward in healing, forward in grace. Amen.

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

All Saints Sunday

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Healing of Bart

By The Rev. Diane Riley

I am delighted to be here today and I want to thank Rev. Poppe and Martha Gardner for allowing me to come and preach and participate in a forum where I can share my work with you. I work for The Apostles House in Newark. This is a familiar entity no doubt to many of you especially long time members as St. Georges’. Twenty five years ago St. Georges in collaboration with four other churches was founded the Apostles’ House family shelter. Today we have many programs that serve the poor in Essex beyond the shelter, there is transition housing, continuum of care services for those moving on to independent living, a home for teenage mothers and their children where they can continue to go to school and learn how to raise strong children even as they are moving out of their own childhood. And of course our Food Pantry. I work program within our food pantry in an educational program that allows me to visit communities to raise the awareness of one of the most basic problems we encounter, the problem of hunger. We have one of the largest if not the largest food pantry in Essex. We served over 10,000 people last year. As you might guess the problem of hunger has been exacerbated by the economic crisis. We are very near to serving 10,000 people as of the end September and traditionally the last quarter of the year is when we serve the most people (almost 50% of those we served last year, were served in the fall). So thank you for all you have done and thank you for all you continue to do to help. You are our partners. Today as you walk you not only raise money for the hunger but you stand in solidarity and witness to those that are not always seen and helping others to “see” the problem of hunger. The work I do also allows me to help people “see” the not only the demand but to raise the awareness of the big picture and the actions that we can take to get at the root causes of hunger so that we can get to the point where we end the problem of food insecurity. A time when emergency food providers like our pantry will truly be called on only in cases of emergency and not as a way of life. So if you can’t be here for the seminar than please stop by and allow me to give you some info to take with you.

I am a vocational Deacon in this diocese. St. Georges’ has been blessed with several Deacons as part of your worshiping community, Kathleen Ballard and most recently Chris McCloud. And so you know that we are ordained to the ministry of service. Our ministry is first and foremost to model an active care ministry. Care of individuals as in pastoral care and also care of the community through social ministry. All of the deacons in this diocese are very different. You can see that in their day jobs. Some are nurses, chaplains, managers of social service organizations, teachers, or anti-hunger advocates. Having said that the heart of our ministry is the same. We all see the world in through the same lens – we see the world through the lens of vulnerable people. Sometimes those people are what the gospel calls “the least of these” and their needs are easy to spot – the hungry, or those that need shelter or those that are sick. Sometimes their needs are not so easy to see, like their sense of isolation from others in their community, or maybe just their sense of isolation from God. Perhaps loneliness is the most common unmet need. Our sense of separation is the most common denominator for all God’s people. Here is where it comes together for me. “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me... “We participate in our own reconciliation, in mending our own relationship, traveling that distance to God when we take the “risk” of a relationship with the least of these... So there really is mutuality about serving that I want to talk to you about today. I may be meeting their needs but they are also meeting my needs. It’s a connection. In the entirety of the Bible we hear in people’s experience of God that God wants only for his people to be connected to each other; to care for each other and to find God in those caring connections.

That is not always easy even for Deacons. I’ll start with a confession. Every week on the way to work, I drive on 280 and get off of exit 15 in Newark and always I get stuck at the light at the bottom of the ramp. It a long light it turns onto Rt. 21 which is a very busy road. Sometimes I am get stopped almost making it to the turn and so I am first waiting for the light to change, and so often I am the second or third car up that ramp. Usually at this time a person appears, seemingly out of nowhere. A beggar someone who is looking for change and comes up to my window. Here comes the confession. If I am three cars back I have time to pray before they come up to the window. I pray not that we can deliver the people who live in poverty from poverty, not that maybe this person who may have a drug problem or other problems that are barriers to them becoming whole can get the help they need. No I pray that the light will change before they reach my car. I just can’t deal with it that early in the morning. I get angry that I have to. I get angry at them for not fixing their problems. I get angry at society for not helping to fix their problems. Most times when they do manage to reach me and I can’t avoid it I reach down in my purse and give them some money. I don’t always look in their eyes. This act doesn’t alleviate my anger. I still feel angry because no matter how much I work at alleviating the problem of poverty it assaults me and I feel like a failure. And then when the light changes and I am safely away from the confrontation. I feel ashamed and I begin to feel guilty at myself for having all those feelings.

As I pull into the parking lot and I finish my journey to work I say a different prayer, “Jesus, Son of God have mercy on me a sinner.” This prayer, “the Jesus prayer” or the “prayer of the heart” is not new it has been used for centuries by Christian communities as a first step. It is the simplest most desperate prayer when you are at the end of your rope -- a surrender prayer. It’s a prayer where I acknowledge this “true confession” to myself and then offer it up to God. In those moments I recognize that I have a way to go to be a follower of Jesus but … that I have take a step toward getting there.

Today’s Gospel gives us that prayer as part of the story. It is the last healing story in the Gospel of Mark. The last public healing, after this story Jesus moves on to Jerusalem and toward the cross. This in effect is the last statement given by our Gospel writer about Jesus ministry and so it is really a statement about what his ministry means. It is also the culmination of the stories about discipleship and what it means to be follower. Jesus is traveling and blind beggar named Bartimaeus (son of Timaeus) is on the side of the road begging. The name has meaning, Bart-teymeh means “son of poverty” in Aramaic. This man immediately shouts to Jesus “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!” People around Jesus, you know his entourage tell him to stop and be quiet but he shouted even louder. “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stops and stands still and he tells them to call him over. And they turn towards him and say “Take heart, get up, he is calling you”. I love that. Take heart, get up, he is calling you. That’s the line that stops me in this story. All a long I have been somehow not identifying with the son of poverty the blind beggar because I am not poor and I can see. But when I hear that line, I identify with poor Bart. Even my name for him in my mind changes to a nickname of a friend a kindred spirit. I want to desperately to be in his shoes. I want to hear someone say to me, “take heart, get up, Jesus is calling you”. Me personally, someone who can’t bear to look at the beggar outside my car window. Jesus have mercy on me, a sinner. If we can agree that sin really anything that gets in the way of me relationship with God. I can say my sin is one of surrendering to hopelessness and letting fear and apathy creep into my heart. In those moments when I stare straight ahead I have clearly turned away. I don’t have the courage to turn towards that beggar. Who is not Bart at all but a disciple telling me that Jesus is calling. I don’t have the courage to believe we are deeply connected and to stop thinking of it as his problem, or society’s problem, and not my problem, our problem. To turn towards the relationship that Christ offers and affirms, I am a sinner, known and still deeply loved. Mark starts out his Gospel with the words, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God”. And ends his teachings by telling us to “Take heart, get up, Jesus is calling you”. If God knows all this about me and still calls. That is good news.

Truth is we need help in believing in this News. All are worthy and we are all responsible but that there is joy waiting in this connectedness and responsibility. What do I want? I want what Bart has. I want to feel what Bart feels. I want to throw off whatever I need to throw off (my pride, my money, by cloak or whatever keeps me from) feeling that deep sense of acceptance that knowledge of being known and loved and jump up with the enthusiasm and energy. The energy that has him leaping to his feet with, joy just at the invitation. When asked, “Diane what do you want me to do for you?” I want to answer to clearly and firmly. “I want to see again”. Lord, help me to see the truth again. Help me to believe in that reality. Heal me so that I can “see” that. Truth be told we need serve not just as duty because the Bible tells us to help the poor, we need the connection to the “least of these” to address our own deep need for connection with God. They help us understand what we cannot see.

Nora Gallagher is a writer and a reporter and she wrote a book that chronicles part of her journey of faith through a year seen through her eyes in the life of her Episcopal parish in California. She talks about the ordinary days within the entire year and her connections with people there and her work in the soup kitchen. “Things blind us, crowd our vision… In our midst is a man without a blanket and shoes too large for his feet. We have organized our lives so that he is hidden from us. He lives, like God in invisibility. But when we do see him, I think tonight, we keep a rendezvous. In the seeing is a glimpse, a foretaste of the kingdom: it will be a place where everyone is seen, including us. Here we are together in Ordinary time, learning how to see.”

I have not met a person who volunteers in a pantry, soup kitchen or any outreach effort that actually meets and talks to a people they serve that does not come away changed. Amazed by their stories, amazed by their hospitality, and more often than not amazed by their faith and belief in the hopefulness of the world and the unfailing love of God.

Jesus ends his public ministry to us today with one more story about a marginalized person. Someone who is poor and outcast. Like all the others it is easy for us to see that he needs help. Like all the others Jesus reminds us that he is the “first” to get that. Because he is vulnerable he has no illusions about it. We are reminded one final time that though we are “last” to get this the invitation is still open. He calls us not son or daughter of poverty. He calls us, child of God. So take heart, get up, have courage to turn towards that persistent knocking on your window and follow.

©2009 The Rev. Diane Riley

Salted with Fire

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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