Sermon; Advent 3C; Luke 3:7-18

Today is the Third Sunday of Advent and, according to your bulletin cover, it is the Sunday of Joy.  It's the Sunday of Joy because we pray that God's power will be stirred up and come among us.  It's the Sunday of Joy because in Year A we hear the Magnificat and celebrate Mary and all mothers.  It's the Sunday of Joy because in Year B we hear the restoration of fortunes, that those who go out weeping will come again with joy shouldering their sheaves, and of John the Baptist making straight the way of the Lord.  It's the Sunday of Joy because in Year C, this year, we hear John call the crowd a brood of vipers.  Wait . . . what?  How is being called a brood of vipers joyful?

For that matter, where is the joy in the ax cutting down trees?  Or a winnowing fork that brings in the wheat but burns the chaff with unquenchable fire?  Where is the joy in that?  Where is the good news?  What joy is John bringing with his fire and brimstone preaching?

We have this image of John as a wild man.  We see him living in the wilderness, clothed with camels hair, a leather belt, and eating locusts and wild honey.  He is Charlton Heston screaming, “Repent!”  Or maybe he is Robin Williams in Jumanji with wild hair and long beard.  This wild-man image is reinforced today when John calls the crowd, not just the Pharisees and Sadducees but the whole crowd, a brood of vipers.

Some preachers use this Sunday to berate their congregation.  After all, if John can call people a brood of vipers, then I'm in good company.  But berating people, while occasionally needed, doesn't always proclaim the good news; and John was all about proclaiming the good news.

So how are these comments from John joyful?

Let’s start with, “You brood of vipers!”  A brood is a family of offspring.  Children in a large family are often referred to as a brood.  John wasn't calling the crowd a bunch of vipers, but the offspring of vipers.  The insinuation here is that the people were the offspring of corrupt people and systems that could and would poison those people and systems well into the future. 

John is calling the people of his day to repent of these systemic sins and return to the Lord. 

We see how Jesus deals with systemic sins when he berates the religious leaders for perpetuating systems that took advantage of widows and the poor, when he attacked the lawyers for loading people with heavy burdens to bear but for which they did not lift a finger in relief, and when he overturned the tables in the temple calling it a den of robbers. 

Without berating any of us, we can hold the mirror of John up to ourselves and see that we, too, are a brood of vipers.  We are the offspring of corrupt systems which relied on stolen land, stolen people, and stolen labor to build this country.  We see the corrupt systems of healthcare that put company profits over the well-being of people, and for which we’ve been trained to see as normal.  We see it when people are loaded with heavy burdens that nobody in positions of power are willing to lift a finger to ease, or when the justice system favors a particular race and class, or when financial systems prey upon the poor.  John is calling us today to repent of those systemic sins and to find ways to repair the damage done to others and to creation.  These are the mountains of last week that need to be leveled.

Last week I talked about raising the valleys and lowering the mountains.  This week John arrives to do just that.  He is the voice in the wilderness calling people to account by working to raise the valleys and lower the mountains – to level the playing field and proclaim the good news. 

The question the crowds ask John, and the question we are likely to ask ourselves is this:  “What then should we do?”

His answers to these questions point to the good news that gets lost with his comment about us being a brood of vipers.  “Bear fruits worthy of repentance.  Do not say we have Abraham as our ancestor.”

Pay attention.  Repentance isn't based on our lineage.  Repentance is based on our actions.  It's based on turning back to God with all our heart, mind, body, and soul.  Do you renounce Satan, the spiritual forces that destroy the work of God, and the evil powers of the world, turning to Jesus Christ?

What does it look like when we do this?  It looks like giving from our abundance to those in need.  Do you have two coats?  Share with those who have none.  How many coats do we really need?  Go, look in your closet and give what you don't need, or what you think you might need “someday,” to those who actually need it today.

Can you afford extra food?  Purchase some for those in need.  We have two baskets in the narthex to collect food and supplies for the Pantry.  What is to prevent us from filling them every Sunday?  Or what is to prevent us from transforming more of Jubilee Hall into a place of free children’s clothes or school supplies?

If you run a business, don't participate in wage theft.  Pay men and women at the same rate.  Don't charge exorbitant interest rates.  If you're a landlord, find ways to return security deposits rather than looking for ways to keep them.  The list of how we can treat people fairly and justly is endless.

Finally, note what John says about the coming of the Messiah:  “He will gather the wheat into his granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”  Contrary to popular opinion, and to televangelist preachers everywhere, this isn't condemning some people to the fires of hell, but is a recognition that we are all wheat which has the potential to produce good fruit for the kingdom.  It's a recognition that we all have protective layers around us, walls we put up, chaff that surrounds our seed, in an effort to protect ourselves from the harshness of the world around us.  Those walls, those layers, that chaff, will be burned away, leaving the wheat to be gathered into the kingdom.

This is all good news because it goes back to the old adage that it is better to give than to receive.  We give of our abundance so that others may have enough.  We give of ourselves so that others may receive dignity.  This is the leveling that John, Isaiah, and God himself are proclaiming.  This is the change we are called to do to help manifest God's kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.

We may be a brood of vipers, but the good news is that we don't have to become vipers.  The good news is that those past sins do not have to dictate our future.  John is calling us to pay attention to the sins of our past, to those systems and actions which have the potential to poison systems and people well into the future, and to make changes.  He is calling us to repent of those past sins, whether committed by us or by our ancestors, and to turn and follow the Lord.  This is the good news – that there is still time to repent and change how things are done.

Today is the Third Sunday of Advent.  Today is the Sunday of Joy.  Today is joyful because John is pointing us to a new way of being.  Today is joyful because John reminds us that giving is better than receiving, that sharing is better than hoarding, that dignity is better than degradation, and that repentance brings us one step closer to the kingdom.

Let us diligently work to repair the damage done by past generations and current evils so as to bring joy to all of God's people not only in the future, but in the here and now.

Amen.

Sermon; Advent 2C; Luke 3:1-6

Advent is the season of preparing, and last Sunday I discussed that Advent begins at the end.  Today we are at the beginning.  Today we are at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry when we hear Luke refer to John as “the voice of one crying out in the wilderness.”  Or, maybe, if this isn’t the actual beginning of Jesus’ ministry, it’s the prelude, because over the next two weeks we will hear stories about John the Baptist and how those stories prepare us for Jesus.

John appeared in the wilderness proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  For us, he is the fulfillment of the words spoken by the prophet Isaiah:  “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.  Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill made low, the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

These words from Isaiah and the words that John proclaimed are reflective of God’s overall reversal.

Over and over in Scripture God shows concern for those on the margins and for those whom society discards or intentionally abuses and silences.  Widows, orphans, the poor, and the outcast, God is continually working to elevate and include those whom society won’t.

Everything from Sodom and Gomorrah being destroyed because they did not help the poor and needy, to Jesus touching and healing lepers and eating with sinners and tax collectors, to Paul lashing out at the Church in Corinth for ignoring the hungry, to the image of the end of days when it is those who fed, clothed, and cared for those in need who attain eternal life, all this and more shows God concerned with the less fortunate.  We heard it in the Prayer of Hannah.  We hear it in the Magnificat.  It’s in the words of Isaiah, and it’s in the words of John the Baptist.  If we truly believe and proclaim the good news of God in Scripture and in Jesus, then we should be working to follow God’s example and call in caring for those whom God cares for.

Scripture is not a static document, although some people see it that way.  Those who view Scripture as static often use it to oppress individuals and groups of people.  If Scripture were static, we would still have slavery.  If it were static, women would still be property and barred from speaking in church.  If Scripture were static . . . well, you get the idea.

Scripture, though, is the living word of God.  It is living and active.  It contains the seeds of growth.  It recounts the story of God’s relationship with his people.  And it is not something to which we passively listen and then forget.  It should touch us, shape us, and lead us both into a deeper relationship with God and into living a life that reflects the kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.

Advent is the season of preparation.  We prepare for the already in our preparations for the birth of Christ as celebrated in Christmas.  Whether that means putting up decorations, baking Christmas cookies, helping with yesterday’s Surprise You Sale, reading daily devotions, lighting candles, or whatever, we are making preparations for the already.

We are also preparing for the not yet in the coming of Christ at the end of the age.  That, though, is a more . . . fuzzy . . . thing to prepare for.  Christmas always comes on December 25, but we don’t have a date for the not yet.  Christmas has certain things the we use to prepare, but we might not quite know how to prepare for the not yet.  How do we prepare for an event promised but undefined?

For starters, we can recognize that Scripture is not static.  Scripture is not a story with characters locked in time.  Scripture is the living word of God which speaks to us today as it did, and as God did, to the people found within its pages.

What that means, then, is that the words of Isaiah as proclaimed in Scripture and lived out by John the Baptist are not meant solely for them.  It means that those words are meant for us as well.  It means that we are called to proclaim the message that Isaiah and John proclaimed.

It also means we are not only to proclaim it, but that we are to prepare for the coming of the Lord by living into those words and working to make them a reality.

We can prepare for the coming of the Lord by working for, and living into, God’s reversal.

Every valley shall be filled.  When people find themselves at low point in their lives – physical, spiritual, and mental valleys – we can work to fill those valleys with good things.  We can work to ensure they aren’t abandoned but supported and helped up.

Every mountain shall be made low.  People face a variety of obstacles that can seem like mountains in their lives:  everything from food insecurity to unemployment to housing crises and medical expenses.  These are mountains which make the valleys seem even lower.  How can we work to lower those mountains?  How can we help reverse these issues and concerns to help manifest God’s presence?

Raising valleys and lowering mountains just aren’t metaphors for some spiritual pie-in-the-sky – these are real life concerns that God wants to eliminate.  And we are the ones who need to do that work, because the living word of God is speaking to us today.

Finally, if we are preparing for the coming of Christ for only a few, we are missing what Christ is all about.  The raising of valleys and lowering of mountains isn’t for a select few, it’s for everyone.  Another way of saying that is, “liberty and justice for all.”  Because when those valleys are raised and the mountains lowered, all flesh shall see the salvation of God.

In our preparation for the not yet, we need to remember that all means all.  That is what we are preparing for – for the coming of Christ and the salvation of all.

May God’s kingdom be manifest here on earth as it is in heaven.

Amen.

Sermon; Advent 1C 2024; Luke 21:25-36

As I said during the opening announcements, “Happy New Year!”  Today is the First Sunday of Advent, the first day of the year on the liturgical calendar, and the first day of Year C.

Being the first day of the New Year, you would think we would begin at the beginning with our gospel reading.  After all, on New Year’s Day of that other calendar we have a tradition of beginning again or of making fresh starts.  We look ahead and make a resolution or two that this year will be different.  This year we will begin exercising more, reading more, volunteering more, eating healthier, or whatever the case may be that we think will allow us to start fresh.

But on the first day of the Christian new year, we begin at the end, not at the beginning.  Why?  Why, when we think about new years and new beginnings, do we begin at the end?

Today’s gospel passage comes near the end of the Luke during Holy Week.  Once again we hear Jesus preparing his disciples for both his earthly departure and the end times.  While it may not sound like it on the surface, Jesus is giving his disciples a sense of hope in these last days.

A casual reading of this passage might cause some concern or distress.  Signs in the sun, moon, and stars, roaring of seas, and distress among nations confused by it all doesn’t sound pleasant.

But look ahead to Revelation 21:  “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away.  And I saw the holy city coming down out of heaven prepared as a bride.”

And look back to Genesis 1:  “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep.  Then God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.”

In both looking forward and in looking back, what we see is a new creation.  And in both those times of creation, chaos was present.  What we are seeing and hearing is not simply a vision of chaos and destruction, but a vision of a new creation.  Anytime there is a new creation, there is chaos; the trick is to not get swept away or distressed by the chaos, but to understand that God is doing a new thing and it will be okay – eventually.  It will be messy and chaotic during that transition, but eventually God’s new creation will come and it will be okay.

“Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and know your redemption is drawing near.”  Another way of saying this is that your deliverance, or the time of your rescuing, is drawing near.  To make his point, Jesus tells the parable of the trees.  “As soon as they sprout leaves you know that the summer is near.  So also when you see these things, you know the kingdom of God is near.”

Again, a casual reading of this passage might lead some to conclude that Jesus is speaking only of the redemption of a few.  But that would negate the universality of Christ.  Like the sprouting of leaves mark the beginning of summer for all people, these times and signs mark the beginning of Gods reign for all people.

This redemption Jesus speaks of is a period of transformation, healing, and wholeness for all of creation, and not for just a select few.  We are not being given a private lifeboat that only has room for a few – we are being given a vision and a promise of new life for all.

While Jesus is telling them all this, the disciples are probably wondering, “When will this be?”  In answer to their unasked question, Jesus says, “This generation will not pass away until all things have taken place.”

The word “generation” can mean a generation like we normally think of it – grandparents to parents to children/grandchildren.  It can also mean a group of people born during a specific time period – Baby Boomers, Gen X, Gen Y, Millennials.  It could also mean the complete age of human history.  The fact of the matter is that we don’t know exactly what Luke meant when he wrote this, other than to say that at some point things will cease to exist as we know it and God’s final reign will begin. 

One quick note about this generation not passing away until all things have taken place.  This is less about a specific time period and more about knowing the “rapture” is a figment of some people’s imagination.  There is nothing in Scripture or in Jesus’ words that indicates believers will be miraculously and magically whisked away to bliss in order to avoid difficult times.  When you see these difficult times, stand up and raise your heads because we will be witnesses in the face of suffering and death.  It won’t be our disappearance in times of suffering that testifies to the presence of God, it will be our presence with others in times of suffering that will offer hope to those needing it.

On this First Sunday of Advent at the beginning of the year, we begin at the end.  Why is that?

It’s because Advent is the season of preparation.  We are preparing for the coming of Christ, in both what was and what is yet to be.  With both Christmas and Jesus’ return, we prepare ourselves.  We prepare ourselves for Christmas with decorations, plans, gifts, meals, and the like.  We prepare ourselves for God’s reign by understanding that the new creation will be preceded by a time of chaos and transition, but living as if the reign of God were already accomplished.

It's because, as with any journey, it helps to know where we’re going.  So instead of starting the New Year off with a resolution about exercise, or diet, or any other general self-improvement resolutions, maybe we should begin at the end.  I want to get to my ideal weight.  I want to reduce my cholesterol.  I want to be THERE, so I will begin preparing in THIS way.

Advent begins with the end because knowing the end result can help us weather the storms of chaos and transition.  It can help us widen our view of how we get there.  And it can help us stay focused in times of uncertainty.

Advent begins with the end because that just might be the best way to prepare.

Amen.

Sermon; Christ the King; 2024; John 18:33-37

Here we are on the Last Sunday after Pentecost, also known as Christ the King Sunday.  On the Church calendar we have come through his birth, Passion, resurrection, ascension, and life in general to end up here where we proclaim Jesus as King of kings and Lord of lords.  And while it is good and proper that we acknowledge Christ as King, we have to be careful about the details.  What I mean by that is this:  we need to be careful about not worshiping an idol of Jesus that we’ve made in our image.

Our image of kings has been shaped by what we have seen and learned over time.  From the medieval kings of Europe to Pharaohs, warlords, chieftains, and, yes, even Popes, we have an image of what a king is and how he should act.  Some kings are more tyrannical than others, but ultimately a king has absolute power to rule absolutely, and always does so in his own best interest.

There are those in the world today who would use this view of a king for Jesus.  Christian nationalism and other heresies that promote a manly, muscular Christ who conquers his enemies by force, and always with our help, are on the rise.  These beliefs and movements distort and corrupt the message of Christ, twisting it to serve the sole purpose of feeding their egos and fueling their grasp for worldly power.  The kingly Jesus they want is one who operates like Caesar – crushing enemies and establishing “peace” through forcibly silencing anyone who opposes them.

But that is not the Christ of the gospels.  It is not the Christ of the New Testament.  And it should not be the Christ we proclaim.

The kingdom of Christ, and the reign of Christ the King that we proclaim and that Christ lived into, turns those dominionistic and nationalistic ideas upside down.  Proclaiming Christ as King is not an act of power and control, but a subversive act of love.  We see this not only in the New Testament, but throughout all scripture.

Jesus, King of kings and Lord of lords, Second Person of the Trinity and coeternal with the Father, came to earth as a helpless, powerless, and vulnerable infant.  John the Baptist refers to him twice as the Lamb of God.  Revelation uses the Lamb as an image of Christ multiple times.  Jesus says he came not to be served, but to serve.  He says he is humble and gentle in spirit.  And most tellingly, when asked directly by Pilate, Jesus says, “My kingdom is not from this world.  If it were from this world, my followers would be fighting for me.”

Christ the King presents us with a very different kind of king from what people normally desire.  He is the God and King of reversals.  We want big, he comes small.  He leads by serving.  He lives through dying.  Last week we read the Prayer of Hannah:

            The bows of the mighty are broken, the feeble gird on strength.

            Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,

                        But those who were hungry are fat with spoil.

            The Lord raises up the poor and lifts the needy.

The Song of Mary is a similar prayer/prophecy:

            He has cast down the mighty and lifted up the lowly.

            He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.

 The kingdom of God runs counter to the kingdoms and desires of men.

Whereas the kingdoms of men seek to build walls, the kingdom of God is always open.

Whereas the kingdoms of men seek to expel those deemed different,

the kingdom of God draws in all people.

Whereas the kingdoms of men control and limit resources,

the kingdom of God sows the seeds of reckless generosity

so that all may be fed and healed.

The kingdom of God is based on justice, mercy, and love.  The kingdom of God works to bring restoration to the outcast.  The kingdom of God works to feed, clothe, and heal the hungry, the naked, and the damaged.

If the kingdoms of earth do not work to do these things, then they are not of God.  And if the kingdoms of earth proclaim they are being led by a Jesus who does not do these things, then they are being led by an idol of Jesus made in their own image.

If we proclaim Christ as King, then we must proclaim the Christ of subversive love.  If we proclaim Christ as King, then we must proclaim the Christ of the Beloved Community.  If we proclaim Christ as King, then we must proclaim Christ as the King of peace.  If we proclaim Christ as King, then we must proclaim Christ as the One who stands against violence, degradation, separation, and hatred.

Proclaiming Christ as King is to make a bold proclamation and to take a bold stand against the corrupt, divisive, and self-serving powers of the world in favor of the Kingdom of love, justice, mercy, and healing.  It is by proclaiming Christ as King in this way that we will take back the definition of the Reign of Christ that has been corrupted and twisted by the powers of the world.

If we do that – unapologetically, boldly, and faithfully, then we just might get a glimpse of God’s kingdom here on earth . . . as it is in heaven.

Amen.

Sermon; Proper 28B; Mark 13:1-8

We are almost at the end of Ordinary Time and Advent is only two weeks away.  Advent is the beginning of the new Church year and we will go from Year B to Year C on December 1.  We will also move from Ordinary Time – that long, green season focusing on the life of Jesus – to Liturgical Time – the time of seasonal and color changes that focus on the events of Jesus’ life.  The year begins with Advent because that is the time we anticipate and prepare for the coming of Christ – both in what was (his birth) and what is yet to be (his coming again).

For the past two weeks we have heard gospel stories that come from Jesus’ last days on earth.  This is from what we now call Holy Week, and they are, in a way, preparing the disciples for his ultimate departure.  This theme of Advent preparation, then, actually begins a little before Advent.

Last week we heard the story of Jesus in the temple watching as people put money into the treasury.  Amongst all the commotion and fanfare of wealthy people putting in amounts that could be both seen AND heard came a lonely widow who literally put in her last penny.  I imagine this woman coming in and trying not to be seen.  I imagine her being ashamed for not being able to contribute more.  And I imagine her trying to leave before being noticed.  But Jesus noticed, and he commended her willingness to put God above everything else in her life.  This story isn’t about giving our last penny to the Church, but about asking us to see God as the widow saw God.  How are we preparing ourselves to follow God over and above everything else in our lives?

Today’s passage comes immediately after last week’s story.  Jesus and the disciples are leaving the temple when they point out to him the grandeur of it all.  Jesus is less-than-impressed when he says it will all be thrown down.  “When will this be?” they ask.

Everyone is concerned with the last days or end times.  Thousands of books have been written about it, prophecies and interpretations have been made, televangelists have made millions by spouting end-time scenarios.  And you know what they all have in common?  They’ve all been wrong.  Every.  Single.  Time.  They’ve all been comically and disastrously wrong.

From the Millerites in 1844 to Harold Camping in 2011.  From the London Fire in 1666 to Joanna Southcott in 1813.  From The Late, Great Planet Earth of Hal Lindsey to the blood moons of John Hagee.  End time prophecies and predictions have a 100 percent failure rate.  And yet people keep predicting and people keep following and people keep sending money.

People ask me, “Are these the end times?”  I always tell them, “It’s the end time for someone.”

In today’s gospel, the disciples are trying to find out when the end times will take place.  Jesus, rather than giving them a time, talks about being prepared.  Being prepared does not mean blindly following those who preach and guarantee a specific end of days; but it does mean having the wherewithal to discern messages.

When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed.  Why not?  Because humans have been at war for almost our entire history.  The US alone has been involved in 114 military conflicts since the Revolutionary War.  To put that another way, the US has been engaged in some form of military conflict for 228 years of its existence.  While this indicates our willingness to use military force, it does not indicate the end times.

There will be earthquakes and famines.  The earth is geologically alive, earthquakes and volcanoes happen.  Continental drift and slippage occur causing great damage.  The land surrounding the Pacific Ocean is known as the Ring of Fire due to the number of volcanoes.  But St. Helens, Etna, Vesuvius, Krakatoa, and others, did not usher in the end times.  Neither did the earthquakes of San Francisco in 1908, Anchorage in 1964, or Tokyo.

Many will come in my name and say, “I am he,” and they will lead many astray.

As I pointed out earlier, many people have led many others astray, either by their false claims of knowing when the end will occur or by their false claims of being the messiah.  Jim Jones and David Koresh come to mind.  There have also been, and will continue to be, political leaders who sway their followers and lead them astray with promises that they are the only ones who can save the people from whatever mess they seem to be in, while also denigrating and demonizing anyone who is different or who opposes them.

A final note about end time predictions and beliefs:  these are often based in escapist fantasies.  That is, some people have such a strong belief that the world is going to hell in a handbasket that they will grasp at anything or anyone who promises them an easy way out.  It’s much easier to believe you will be whisked away from all this and into salvation than it is to do the hard work of living out and into the examples of Christ in the here and now.

Jesus is preparing his disciples and us for the end times, but those end times are not coming as you might think.  His preparation isn’t about reading the signs of the times as guideposts to destruction.  His preparation has to do with discernment.  Do these people claiming to be the messiah live into the message of the gospel?  Do they love their neighbors?  Do they work to feed, clothe, shelter, and visit those in need?  If they don’t act and speak the message of Christ as found in the gospels, then they are antichrist.

The end is surely coming.  And when it does the Lord will make a feast of rich food for all people.  He will swallow up death forever.  The home of God will be among mortals.  He will dwell with them as their God and they will be his people.  Every tear will be wiped away and all things will be made new.

The end is surely coming.  It’s our job to discern if that is based on the revenge fantasies of people, or if it’s based in the love of God.  Learn to discern, and then live your life as the God of love calls us to.

Amen.

Sermon; All Saints' Sunday Year B; 2024

Today is All Saints’ Sunday, the day we remember those who have died, the day we commemorate the saints of the Church gathered here with us, and one of four days we renew our baptismal vows.  On top of all that, for me this day will always be our anniversary, the first Sunday we came together as priest and people.  All of these things make today a joyful celebration.

All Saints’ Sunday is already one of my top five days on the Church calendar, and this year, Year B, is my favorite year of the three.  That’s because the first two readings are also appointed for funerals, and the gospel reflects a deep abiding love between friends.  Funerals, at least in the Episcopal church, are times when people are reminded of how much God loves them and of their love for each other and the person who has died. 

In today’s gospel, Lazarus has died.  Mary and Martha have sent word to Jesus that he was ill, but then he died before Jesus could get there, and Jesus shows up four days after the fact.  There are other stories about Mary, Martha, Lazarus, and Jesus scattered through the gospels giving us an idea that these three siblings had a close relationship with Jesus.  We see some of this deep connection on display today when Jesus weeps at the tomb of his friend Lazarus.

Jesus is fully human and fully divine, and here we see a wholly human response to the death of a loved one.  We all cry and mourn in our own way.  For some reason, I tear up when officiating funerals, which drives me nuts, but that’s another story.  Hippolytus, a 1^st and 2^nd Century theologian, states that Jesus wept to give us an example of “weeping with those who weep.”  That might be a bit of a stretch.  I prefer to think that the human side of Jesus was touched by grief, just as we are, and that grief can be overwhelming.

We read the names of those who died this past year at the beginning of the service.  None of us know all those names, but their deaths caused grief and tears for those who did know them.  That grief can be softened over time by our resurrection hope and our belief that those people have entered into glory.  Even with that hope and faith, I have never attended or officiated a funeral where people were joyfully celebrating a death.

But as I said, our grief can be softened over time.  I think our first two readings do that.

Isaiah gives us a vision of restoration, a time when enemies of the Lord are defeated and God’s people are restored to wholeness.  God’s people are not only Jews, but anyone who worships the Lord.  In this vision, all people are welcome to the banquet and all people will be free from oppression.  On that day death will be no more and tears will be wiped away as a mother wipes away the tears of a crying child.

Today’s reading from Revelation comes near the end of the book.  In it we hear of a new heaven and a new earth, a time when all creation will be renewed and transformed, free from imperfections.  Chaos, represented by the sea, will be no more.  Death will be no more.  Mourning and crying will be no more.  God will dwell with us and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.

In these two readings, and even in the gospel passage, there is a hopeful vision of restoration.  Isaiah talks of all people restored to wholeness in God.  John sees a vision of unity with God where death and mourning and crying and pain are no more.  Lazarus is restored to life to live with his family once again.  On All Saints’ Sunday these are hopeful visions that can help diminish the pain of death.  They can also help us to not fear death as our faith tells us that all this, no matter how permanent it may seem, is only temporary with the glorious restoration yet to come.

Besides these readings of comfort and hope there’s another reason All Saints’ is one of my top five days of the Church year, and that is because this is what mystics call a thin place.  There are places and times when the spiritual and the physical are drawn close together or touch.  Sometimes these places are named as spooky – like a graveyard.  Sometimes they are named as other-worldly – like a peculiar piece of nature.  But they can also be a moment in time, like today.

Today is a thin place as we remember those who have gone before.  It’s a thin place as we hold them close to our heart and live in the faith and hope that they are in God’s loving embrace.  Today is also a day when we are reminded how extraordinary the ordinary actually is.

Every Sunday we gather to worship God, offer our thanks and praise, and share in a holy meal.  Every Sunday we gather not to be entertained but to spend time in God’s holy presence.  Every Sunday we recite ancient words and prayers, and sometimes that repetition dulls our senses to the mystical – until a day like today.

On this All Saints’ Sunday, let us worship God not only with those gathered here, but with all those who have gone before and who have yet to come.  Let us acknowledge that we worship God with angels and archangels, and ALL the company of heaven – saints above and saints below.

On this All Saints’ Sunday, in the midst of the chaos swirling around us, here in this thin place, let us hold fast to Isaiah’s vision of restoration and look forward to the time when all creation will be renewed, remembering that we are not alone, for the saints of the Church are gathered here with us.

Amen.

Sermon; Proper 25B; Mark 10:46-52

The Gospel of Mark has been described as a Passion Narrative with a really long introduction.  This description plays out when you realize that close to 40 percent of this gospel is dedicated to the Passion narrative – Palm Sunday to Easter.  I bring this up because for the past few weeks Jesus has been on his way to Jerusalem, and today that journey continues as he and the disciples find themselves in Jericho.

Today’s story of Jesus’ encounter with the blind beggar, Bartimaeus, is the last story of the introduction.  It’s the last story before he rides into Jerusalem on the donkey, kicking off Holy Week.  Bartimaeus is the last person in Mark to receive a healing miracle from Jesus.  And Bartimaeus is the last person to follow Jesus, making him the last person in the gospel to choose to follow Christ.  This final story before Jesus enters Jerusalem is strategically placed to counteract the two stories that immediately precede this one.

Two weeks ago we heard the story of the rich man who came to Jesus and asked, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” which led to a discussion about following the Commandments and a harder request to sell all he had, give the money to the poor, and then follow Jesus.  “And he went away grieving for he had many possessions”

Last week we heard about James and John asking Jesus to grant that they should sit on his right and left when he comes into his glory.  That led to Jesus teaching about godly leadership.  You want to be great?  Become a servant.  You want to be first? Become a slave.  This is a completely different way of seeing leadership and power.  It’s a completely different way of seeing than how the world sees.

Today, in this final encounter before Jesus enters Jerusalem, we hear about Bartimaeus, a blind man who sat by the roadside begging for food or coins on which he could live.  The road from Jericho to Jerusalem was well-traveled (see Luke 10 and the parable of the Good Samaritan), so it may have provided a decent living for ol’ Bart, but not so well that he could stop begging.

As we heard, Jesus is going from Jericho to Jerusalem.  Blind Bartimaeus hears that it’s Jesus passing by and calls out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”  He is the only person in the Gospel of Mark to use that particular messianic title for Jesus.  The crowd, however, tries and fails to silence him, as he cries out even louder.  Eventually Jesus hears him and calls him over; at which point he jumps up like Grandpa Joe in Willy Wonka, throws off his cloak, and is escorted to Jesus. 

“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asks.

“My teacher, let me see again,” he replies.  Immediately he regained his sight and followed Jesus on the way.

As I said, this story is strategically placed after the stories of the rich man looking to inherit eternal life, and that of James and John looking for seats of power, and before Jesus enters Jerusalem.  And here’s why.

First, we have the story of the rich man.  His concern is with inheriting eternal life, so he comes to Jesus to ask the question.  Jesus recites the Law:  Don’t murder; don’t commit adultery; don’t steal; don’t defraud; don’t bear false witness; etc.  When he claims he’s done all that, Jesus tells him to sell everything and then follow.  And the man goes away because he had many possessions.

Contrast that story with the one we just heard.  Bartimaeus was blind, so that limited his career choices.  He was a beggar because that’s the only job he could perform – sitting by the side of the road begging for money and/or food.  Chances are he was homeless because he didn’t make enough money to buy a house or even rent a room.  Living wherever he could find shelter, his cloak was his only possession.  And yet, when Jesus calls him, he throws off his cloak.

The rich man, when called by Jesus to get rid of his possessions and follow can’t do it.  The poor man, whose only possession is a cloak, willingly gets rid of it when called by Jesus.

Second is the issue of blindness.  Blindness can be a physical condition, but it can also be used as a metaphor for ignorance or not being able to understand.  In today’s gospel it means both.  Bartimaeus has a physical condition that makes him unable to see.  But, as I said earlier, blind Bartimaeus is the only character in Mark’s gospel to use the messianic title “Son of David” about Jesus.  This makes him the only character in Mark’s gospel able to see what others could not.

Contrast this with James and John.  “Teacher, we want you to grant us to sit at your right and your left when you come into your kingdom.”  They had been following Jesus for three years and were unable to see what Jesus was all about.  Although physically able to see, they were spiritually blind.

Bartimaeus sees what the disciples can’t.

There’s one final piece here.  The rich man comes to Jesus asking about eternal life because he sees Jesus as a man of power who can make that happen.  James and John ask about sitting on Jesus’ right and left because they see him as a man of power ruling in glory.  Bartimaeus is different.

Bartimaeus follows Jesus after tossing aside his only possession and regaining his sight.  And where does he follow Jesus?  He follows him on the way.  On the way to where?  Not to power and glory, but to Jerusalem where he will take up his cross, be executed, and buried.

The story of Bartimaeus is more than just the last encounter of Jesus before entering Jerusalem and his Passion.  The story of Bartimaeus ends this section of Mark with a call for us to let go of possessions that keep us from following Christ and to see with new eyes.

As we go forward, the question we need to ask ourselves is this:  Which of these three stories are we following?

Amen.