WARNING: RANT POST

Enough is enough. Or is it? That's the question/dilemma I'm personally facing right now. One of the things I like about Anglicanism is that it attempts to house both ends of the spectrum, in any field: high church/low church; conservative/liberal; organ/guitar; traditional/unconventional. To that end, I have tried to link to blogs that span that spectrum. I don't agree with all of them, but I find, usually, that they all have something worthwhile to read.

But now, I find myself of playing with the thought of removing a link. The link in question is Orthodox Anglicanism. This blog is written by a seminarian from the Diocese of Fort Worth while attending Nashotah House.

The final straw came after he posted about the annual SWTS-NH flag football game. Granted, SWTS lost, 21-20. Am I upset about that? Kind of. But not as upset as I'm going to be this weekend when my beloved 'Cougs get trounced by #1 USC, or after the 'Hawks lose their fourth straight. Rather, it was the tone of that particular post. And not only that post, but the one that followed it.

To begin with, he made a point of not participating in the pre-game Eucharist because the celebrant was a woman. Now, that's his choice and his theological bent. Fine. But he made reference to this as a "black mass." Regarding the blessing of the field, he appeared to be overjoyed that the thurible broke, thereby confirming that "God would not accept their strange fire." Finally, he wrote about make a "spiritual communion" because they were prevented from participating in the Eucharist in an effort to rally the troups.

In his next post, he linked to a picture from St. Gregory's of Nyssa in San Francisco. Granted, they do some bizarre things down there that I don't agree with either. But to use the picture of a woman priest (I'm assuming she was a priest) and to subtitle it "Abomination of Desolation" is totally uncalled for. Unfortunately, my posting of this rant earlier this week was eaten by the computer, and when I could finally get back to it the posts have disappeared from his page.

Now, to disagree is one thing, and so is debating the issues over which you disagree. But Taylor has a habit of actively searching out things with which he doesn't agree and belittle or attack them. I can deal with disagreement, but I can't deal with derogatory comments and ad hominem attacks.

Especially after last week's gospel (the parable of the Pharisee and tax collector) and this week's gospel (people murmuring about Jesus visiting Zacchaeus, a sinner). It seems that Jesus is telling us, "Don't be pointing fingers. Just because you think you know what the rules are, doesn't mean you actually do." The funny thing about creating a tightly defined set of rules that clearly explain what Christians can and can't do, is that you also create a tightly defined set of rules that tells God what he can and can't do.

So tell me Taylor, after hearing last week's gospel about the righteous Pharisee and the justified tax collector, and this week's gospel about Jesus intentionally staying with a known sinner, how is it that you can claim to know the mind of God and decide who God can and can't visit his mercy and grace on? It's one thing to disagree, it's quite another to claim a special gnosis and exclude the "other."

I value Anglicanism because of its diversity of opinions. I value the theological debates it creates. But I don't value people who know they're right and engage in spiteful attacks against those who are "wrong." So, after all that, I have decided that it's still important to have the link; afterall, people should see both sides. But I'm placing the link under the Small God heading. Am I right? I don't know. I'm just doing the best I can.

God have mercy on me, a sinner.

YEAR C - PENTECOST 21 - PROPER 25

How's your prayer life? Regular, I hope. As you read through the gospels you will notice that prayer comes up in critical instances. In the desert, away from the stress of the crowds, dealing with evil spirits, in the garden before the arrest. At face value, one might get the impression that we should only pray at critical times in our lives. You'd be wrong. Like last week's gospel urged us, we should pray always, unceasingly.

Today's gospel, however, isn't simply about continual prayer. Today's gospel is about honest prayer. Part of the official definition of prayer, taken from the ODCC -- a really BIG and REALLY expensive dictionary of Christian terms which saved me at least once during the GOE's so it was worth it -- is, " . . . any raising of the heart to God." That's an important choice of words, because the heart is an important part of our emotional conversation. We talk about being heart sick, heart broken, following our heart not our head, and heartfelt conversations. When we talk about our hearts, we talk about real issues and concerns. The heart isn't logical, but it's honest.

One of the things I try to convey in my marriage prep classes -- all of one to date, but it seemed to work -- is the need for open, honest and continual conversation. If something is bothering you, don't bury it, let your spouse know. Don't answer, "Fine," to the question of, "How are you?" if you aren't fine. Good relationships take hard work, and it takes hard work to build good relationships.

Prayer is the key to your relationship with God. Prayer is that open, honest and continual conversation with the one person who offers unlimited love. Therefore, prayer is more than I want, I need, I'm good type of stuff. If that's all your prayers consist of, then it's prayer that is superficial. It's prayer that tries to be logical, not heartfelt. It's prayer that is based in self-trust and leads to looking down on those who aren't like you.

This is the distinction that Jesus is making. He's drawing a line between earnest, heartfelt prayer, prayer that raises the heart to God, and prayer that is shallow, self-serving and only serves to raise the ego. And in drawing that distinction, Jesus tells the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector.

Jesus could have used any two examples, such as a Jew and a Samaritan, a man and a woman, a doctor and a leper. But what Jesus did was to draw on two polar opposites, characters who would bring a certain imagery into the minds of his audience. Had Jesus told the parable today, he might have used a priest and a porn star.

How do you pray? Alone? Quietly? My guess is that most of us follow Jesus' injunction over in Matthew to pray in secret. It's important to remember, however, that the story today isn't about public or private prayer. Many of us pray in public, just look around before service and take note of how many people pray publicly. This gospel and this parable is about the context of your prayers. My reading of this is that, just like pre-service prayers, the two men were praying quietly, individually. So Jesus is talking about their private thoughts, their private prayers.

The Pharisee prayed from a position of privilege, a position of human understanding. He knew he was better than the other riffraff in the temple that day. He was, afterall, a Pharisee. He had been through the discernment process, battles with the COM, psychological evaluations and years of seminary. He knew the law. And he not only upheld and lived according to the law, but he went above and beyond what was required. Fasting, for instance, was designated for times of penitence. He fasted twice a week, whether he needed it or not. According to the law, tithing was only required of one's agricultural gains; one tenth of what you reaped. But he tithed based on his entire income. Kind of like you tithing on your income plus your 401k return plus your expected life insurance return plus the equity of your home plus tips plus what grandma sends you for Christmas.

He began with good intentions, but slowly moved away from a theology of abundance to doing it because it proved how much better he was than other people. His heartfelt prayers became a self-justification of his goodness and he began to contrast himself with others who didn't measure up. You might even say that he began to contrast himself with his competition in order to score holy points.

Then we have the tax collector. I'm probably not far off the mark when I say that if you told your mother you were going into the porn business you would be on equal footing with this guy. This was not a highly regarded career. They were seen as traitors and thieves. Traitors because they worked for the Roman government. Thieves because they would collect more than required to pad their own income. They were despised by every facet of Jewish society; and here he was, a tax collector, praying in the temple.

What does somone in that position say to God? Well, you don't say, "Look how good I've been." If you are praying from the heart, you examine your life and come to the conclusion that the only thing you can say to God is, "Have mercy on me, a sinner." He recognizes that he hasn't done anything good. He knows that he can't uphold his actions or lifestyle as exemplary. So he cuts right to the chase -- have mercy on me. He knows he needs help. He knows he can't save himself.

I'm reminded of the story in Numbers where poisonous snakes infest the Israelite camp. Once bitten, you died, and there was nothing you could to to stop it. That is, until God told Moses to erect a bronze serpent so that whoever looked at the serpent would live. There was nothing anyone could do to save themselves; but by recognizing God's grace, they could accept the gift of the bronze serpent and God would save them. In recognizing their own shortcomings, they recognized that they needed God.

So, how's your prayer life? Are in you regular conversation with God? Are you raising your heart to God, and not your ego? Whether you are a doctor or farmer, Democrat or Republican, priest or prostitute, none of us are in a position to compare our goodness or rightness against those with whom we deem to be worse than ourselves. All of us need mercy. All of us have been bitten by a serpent and need the healing power of God. All of us need to admit our shortcomings. And we all need to raise our hearts to God on a regular basis.

WOW!

Along with everybody else in the country, I'm flat out amazed that the Red Sox beat the Yankees after being down 0-3. Do Yank's fans give a congratulations to the Sox, or does the hatred run too deep? I remember when my beloved Coug's went to the Rose Bowl for the first time since 1914, or 1917, or 1923, (either way, it was a REALLY long time ago). They were playing the Hated Huskies in Seattle. A win got them in, a USC loss got them in. USC lost while the Apple Cup was still being played. The announcement was made over the Husky PA system, and the Hated Husky fans applauded for the Cougars. Rarely do I have anything nice to say about UW, but that was classy. Just wondering if Yankee fans did the same, or did they riot?

I was watching ESPN this morning before heading up to VC. Their baseball crew made the suggestion that the Curse of the Bambino had been reversed by the A-Rod Antidote. Hmmm . . . interesting thought.

Now, who to root for in the WS: The Sox, for obvious reasons; the Astros, for doing another mid-season manager switch and going last to first; the Cardinals, which would make Tony LaRussa only the second manager to win a WS in both leagues. Decisions, decisions, decisions.

SMOKE ON THE WATER,
FIRE IN THE SKY

Yesterday was a long one in VC. It was vestry night, so I went into the office late. Worked on some sermon ideas for Sunday, met with my treasurer who wants to spend a bunch of memoriall money on altar hangings, and got ready for the meeting.

We are looking at doing an Advent Lessons & Carols service on Advent 4 in conjunction with VC's Christmas program. I know, I know. But if we do the Advent thing, we can do some instruction as well as getting ready for Christmas the following Saturday. I've got a meeting tomorrow with the coordinator of the whole city program, so hopefully this will work out.

The big news for the vestry is that the diocese is working to correct past errors. Like I said in my last sermon, it's a new day. One of the things they discovered was that many of our parishes do not have articles of incorporation or bylaws on file with either the diocese or the state. So we need to draft and approve some of those. Nobody told me about this in seminary.

The good news is that the diocesan chancellor drafted a set of articles and bylaws for parishes to use and modify as needed. I gave copies of everything to the vestry and told them to come back next month with modifications and thoughts. I'm going to do the same thing at CC at next week's meeting.

Left the office at 8:40 and headed home. Mrs. Ref had a stamping party that night, and the women were still there when I got home shortly after 9. I walked in the front door and was overpowered with really bad smell. First thought, "Oh oh, she burned the brownies." Turns out it was a little more serious than that. Something to do with a hotpad, a teapot, and the wrong burner. Be checking her blog and see if she fesses up to this little event. If it wasn't so darned cold now we'd open the doors. But, no such luck. And we can't open the windows because we still don't have our new ones, which means that the existing ones are painted shut and can't open, and the ones that can open you don't want to because we don't have screens, and we live in cattle country and the flies number in the thousands (just in my living room). So, we've got every scented candle we own burning at the moment.

Today I'm busy planning a couple of services for the bishop's visitation in February. A baptism for sure, and maybe an installation -- celebration of a new ministry. We'll see how that goes. And I still need to figure out what's going on with the ordination in December.

And finally -- how 'bout them Red Sox! That come back is utterly amazing. And now I'm hoping against hope that they'll pull off the most amazing comeback in sports history and beat those Damn Yankees.

PERSONAL MESSAGE TO JANE

Give me a firm date of your appearance, and I'll wear it.

REBUTTAL

The following is a formal rebuttal to Dawg Days 10/12 post on the debate between baseball and football:

I like football because . . .

Football is life.

Life is often a struggle against both what you know is out there and what can sometimes blindside you.

Goals are important. Football has long range goals (touchdowns), mid-range goals (field goals) and short term goals (first downs). Life also has long range, mid-range and short term goals.

Sometimes, like in life, things don't go according to plan and you need to punt.

Life doesn't get postponed because of bad weather.

Football ends on time, even if it has to go to sudden death. Life ends on God's time, and all deaths seem sudden, even if they are anticipated.

In the football stands, yes, you probably feel like you could take the life of a complete stranger at least 27 times. Is that any different than negotiating rush hour traffic? Or traffic of any kind in any big city?

In football, you must depend on others to support you, protect you, and help you reach your goal. In life, we all need both the "stars" and "minor players" to do the same.

In football, there is no one-on-one. In baseball, it's often you against nine.

Football is life.

PENTECOST 20 - PROPER 24 - YEAR C (KIND OF)

Traditionally the post-convention sermon focuses on what happened at, or the big issues of, convention. In light of how I experienced convention, I think that this is a good tradition to follow, especially for us today.

As you are all well aware, and if you aren't I can fill you in on the details later, that our bishop is walking into a very difficult situation, and it is his job to help us recover and reconcile with each other. This recovery, and his position, requires trust, and he asked us to trust him. It's a new day in our diocese -- a new bishop, a shipload of new clergy, and a new attitude that even I picked up on.

First, a little bit about the bishop. Montana elected Frank to be its leader and chief pastor. We now need to trust him in that role. All ordinands at all levels promise to conform to the doctrine, discipline, and worship of the Episcopal Church. Bishops are also charged with guarding the faith, unity and discipline of the church. This means that he must sometimes, as he said, "lay down the law." But it doesn't mean that he doesn't love and care for us, nor does it mean that we can't disagree with him. Personally, I disagree with him on several issues. However, disagree or not, we need to respect his position. He is, afterall, our bishop.

Second, a little bit about the diocese. The diocese is both a family and a body. We hear these analogies played out in scripture with words like, "Brothers and sisters in Christ," and "the Body of Christ." This is an important concept to remember. Families have a certain air about them. They love each other; they tolerate each other; they support each other; they disagree with each other. Our diocese works the same way; and, like it or not, we are part of the family called the Diocese of Montana.

And speaking of dioceses (diocesi?? dioceeses?? whatever) it is important to remember that the diocese is the basic unit of the church, in ancient times right up to today. One way to look at this whole arrangement is that the diocese is the body of the church. The parishes are the body parts. The parishioners are the individual cells. We are intimately united. And for the body to be healthy, the parishes must be healthy. For the parishes to be healthy, you and I must be healthy.

In other words, everyone here in this building is the diocese. What this means is that we can no longer ask, "What is the diocese going to do," or, "How will the diocese help us," as if the diocese is some foreign entity or governmental big brother. The diocese, our diocese, gets its lifeblood from the individual parishes and parishioners that make up the church. This isn't to say that we are totally on our own, for that would be congregationalism; but it is to say that we all have a part in making our parishes and our diocese successful.

I said earlier that it's a new day in the diocese. You could almost touch the positive energy at convention emanating from the people who were excited about the bishop, the future and their new clergy. A great example of this is when I ran into the head of the search committee from Anaconda-Deer Lodge-Philipsburg, as well as some other parishioners from that cluster. As you may remember, that was one of the places where I interviewed. They were excited about the man they had called to be their priest. But they were also excited to find me here in Virginia City & Sheridan. And they were just as excited for our future as for their own. It's a new day in the diocese.

And like all new days, the promise lies in the future. Think about those days when you wake up, the sun is shining, the air is crisp, not a cloud in the sky, a day that just screams "FOOTBALL!!" -- days like most of what we have been having around here lately, and you just know it's going to be a good day. You look forward to what it will bring. That's the attitude I'm getting from the people of the diocese. Anything is possible.

Part of attaining that possibility is to work from a theology of abundance. I've talked about this before in past sermons. Let me tell you . . . when the bishop discusses a theology of abundance in his convention sermon, you know you're in good company. And it's true, isn't it? All things come from God. God works from a theology of abundance. From creating life to caring for his people to offering forgiveness to dying for us on the cross to the resurrection and beyond, God gives.

The church, instituted by God, should also work from that same theology of abundance. From serving its members to ministering to the community to thanking and praising God, everything the church has and stands for comes from God. Therefore, abundance trumps scarcity.

And we, the people of the Church and the children of God, also need to work from that theology of abundance. Remember, we are the church -- we are the diocese. The question isn't, "How much can I spare to give?" The question is, "How much more could we accomplish if I gave?" It's a new day. Think big. Think abundandly.

If we did that -- lived abundantly with big thoughts -- our accomplishments would be legendary. And that's what the bishop wants us to do, to accomplish big things. To that end he has instituted a plan that calls for every parish in the diocese to be self-supporting in five years. Now before you jump out of your seats, think about this: 2/3 of the diocesan budget goes towards supporting fewer than 15 parishes. That's money that could be used for Episcopal Relief and Development, or local outreach and mission work, or financially supporting seminary students (something I think highly of). Part of this five year plan is that, beginning with the 2006 budget, there will be a 20% reduction in aid per year to assisted parishes.

Is that doable? I don't know. The naysayers will say, "That can't be done!" They will say, "We've never done it that way before." They will ask, "How can the diocese do that do us?" Well, here are a few answers. First, whether you think you can or you think you can't, you are right. I challenge you to think we can. Second, they are correct in regards to the fact that we've never done it that way before. But remember this: the only difference between a rut and a grave is how deep it is and how long you're in it. It's time for us to get out of our rut before it becomes our grave. Third, we are the diocese. Just like everyone in this building wants to be self-sufficient, shouldn't our parishes be the same?

It's a new day. We need to start thinking abundantly. We need to start thinking big. Imagine this building full of people. Imagine needing two services. Imagine inviting friends, family or acquaintances to church. Imagine them staying. Imagine filling up the food basket every Sunday. Imagine a youth program, a Sunday school program, a literacy program, a breakfast program, a day care program. Imagine God's Kingdome come!

A theologian once said, "If we truly knew what we were praying for in church we'd don crash helmets and equip our pews with seat belts." We need to think big, and if that requires crash helmets and seatbelts, then so be it.

Before you think I've gone off the deep end, remember this: I wasn't called to this parish to preside over its funeral. I was called to preside over its life. I was called because you were thinking about the future. I was called because you were thinking big. If you believe that, then let's get to work. Let's put the naysayers to rest and show the diocese, this town, and ourselves that we can think big and live abundantly.

It's a new day. Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

AS BAD AS THIS

For all of you parents of girls in sporting programs: there's this story from ABC. In a word, Damn.

On the one hand, it seems like the world is getting worse every day and we are, indeed, going to hell in a handbasket. It seems like the perverts are winning.

Self-response to the above: It reminds me that Satan is real, we are in a war, and there's reason enough to need a Savior.

On the other hand, is it really getting worse? Remember the days when rape was caused by the woman? Now there's the recognition that the woman didn't have anything to do with it, it was always the guys doing. Granted, there still seems to be some holdouts of blaming the victim, but we are getting better at reporting and naming the crime and perps. So, are things getting worse or are we getting better at going public with crimes that used to be "private" matters?

Trying to put a positive spin on things, I hope that the crime hasn't increased, but the reporting and attention to it has.

Now, do I let my daughter try out for the soccer team next year?

MOO?

The week after convention has been pretty good. People are excited about Montana and have a good feeling for the first time in a long time. I'm going to deliver a sermon/review of convention on Sunday that should be pretty good. Although by saying that I'll probably tank the sermon.

I'm working on marriage prep with a young couple who are thinking about maybe changing churches (see a few posts down for more on that). The sessions have been going relatively well. What made this one better than I could've done on my own was the help I got from Real Live Preacher. No, RLP didn't make a guest appearance in Sheridan, but he's got a killer post entitled "Marriage is Good Work to Do." Check it out. I printed off a copy and read it, and will read it, to the couple(s) in my marriage prep sessions.

And in the joining thing, one partner is baptized (in another tradition), and one isn't. So I've got at least one baptism to prepare for for the bishops visitation. Which brings me to the one's who are baptized -- confirmation or reception? Jane has a timely post on this topic. My answer to the debate is this: It doesn't matter what I think, it matters what my bishop thinks. I'll let you know how the debate turns out in Montana.

My treasurer from St. P's stopped by today. His wife passed away about a year ago, so I never got to meet her. There's some money in a memorial fund and we are going to use it to purchase some new altar hangings. He's excited about that. Then he took me to lunch and afterwards we drove around the countryside enjoying the great weather. On the way back to the church we ran into a cattle drive. Moooving the herd from one pasture to another. Comparing drives (you'll recall this isn't the first time), it is much easier to drive into a herd head on than to drive through a herd traveling the same direction. Cows aren't the brightest bunch of animals, so at least when driving into them they can see you and actually work to get out of your way. Not to mention that the view is better from the front than from the rear.

I'm also busy planning future services (what priest isn't?). Thanksgiving Day morning, the wedding, a St. Nick party, Advent lessons and carols, Christmas Eve and Day, and I'm trying to wrangle up something a little off-beat for Epiphany. Anything to draw attention to the church, right??

And that, my friends, is a Montana week in a nutshell.

YEAR C - PENTECOST 19 - PROPER 23

No sermon this week -- it was the diocesan convention. What was convention like? Well, pretty much what I expected. For those who don't know, the diocese has a new bishop (just celebrated his first year in office a few weeks ago). The diocese is recovering from the abuses of the previous bishop and is showing signs of that recovery and reconciliation. For the first time in a long while, all of the smaller parishes who want priests have them, and people are generally excited about the future.

There was only one resolution on the schedule, and that was to make St. Peter's in Helena the cathedral of the diocese. It passed with much applause, and the bishop will be seated on November 14. We are all looking forward to that. In addition, I will be the first person ordained to the priesthood in the newly named cathedral (December 18, if you care).

What was convention like? It was a whole lot like SWTS, believe it or not. We had worship services just as often: Friday night, Saturday morning, Saturday noon, Saturday evening, Saturday compline, and Sunday morning. We used all of the approved material for the services. Yes, this meant that Friday night's service was from EOW and the music was from LEVAS. However, Jeff, Saturday morning Eucharist was Rite I (including Humble Access). It meant that Saturday evening prayer was a combination EP and Evensong. It meant we had classes to attend on Saturday. It meant we got to sleep in little tiny rooms at the hotel. It meant that we got to hear all of the goings on outside our rooms. I was sure that graduation and moving out were figments of my imagination. All in all, though, it was a good time.

Many people have told me that once you leave SWTS you will never experience worship, music, or community like you did while you were there. And that's true. While convention was a reminder, it was like Plato's shadows, for convention was only a shadow of what was real. The community worship was just a little "off" because they weren't familiar with EOW and LEVAS. The singing was just a little "off" because they don't normally sing psalms, canticles and the like. In some ways it left me frustrated because I know it all could have been better. But for the most part, it made me miss SWTS and everything about it, while at the same time it made me excited to be part of the Diocese of Montana as we all look forward to a new day.

For you seniors reading this, appreciate what you've got while you've got it; treasure it as a fond memory when you're gone; and I pray that you all end up in places that you are excited to be at.

JUST

If you remember, this little job of mine came with a rectory, or vicarage, or parsonage, or whatever you want to call the house that we live in. It's in Sheridan and was built at the same time as the church (around 1870). When we first saw it my statement was, "Thanks, but we'll find something else." This place had been rented and neglected for so long it was, in a word, awful. The floors were trashed, the bedrooms were trashed, the windows were trashed, one bedroom served as not only the trash dump for the place, but the dog's bathroom when nobody wanted to let the thing outside.

After I agreed to come to town, the community got to work on cleaning it up. And I do mean "community." There were several groups that came to help clean up, clean out, refinish and paint that really made the place livable. They also put in new appliances and linoleum in the kitchen. We got carpet in the stairwell and upstairs hallway. And the place looks really good. Mrs. Ref has also spent some time sprucing up the kitchen. One of these groups that came in and helped was the Ruby Valley Men of God. Sort of a non-denominational men's group in the valley.

Being the new "pastor" in town, I've been invited to a few functions that I haven't made it to. Mainly because they do this men's breakfast at o'dark-thirty and I need to get my two women out the door. However, I was invited to a mid-week prayer group. Yesterday was the first. It was, in another word, weird.

Not too many guys showed up; three in fact. But it went something like this: "Jesus, I just pray that the men of this valley will just see that they just need to really have you in their hearts and that they would just that they would become doers of the Word and not just hearers." Followed by a chorus of, "Yes Jesus, thank you Jesus." "We have an election coming up." "Yes Jesus." "And I just pray that you just put it in our hearts to just vote for what's right." "Yes, Jesus." "And that we just realize where our country is headed and that we just be unified and can just put a man in office with the right moral conviction that will just rescue our country from the evil one." "Yes Jesus. Thank you Jesus."

I "just" didn't have a whole lot to say. Kind of fell back on my meditative prayer stuff. I think it's great that there's a group of men willing to meet during the weekday for prayer. Kind of like a mid-week Eucharist, sort of, I guess. But this isn't me. This isn't my tradition. And I had to wonder if these prayers were really about following God and praying for "God's will be done," or if they were about knowing what the right answers were and praying "our will be done." But I also caught myself in that whole judgmental thing and tried to look at it in the most positive light I could.

And, I suppose, it's visibility. It's connections, or networking, or whatever you want to call it. Anything to get the word out that there's an Episcopal priest in town who is willing to be part of the community. But I'm "just" not sure how long I want to be part of that group.

RANDOMNESS

My sister and brother-in-law visited our small corner of the world. Got here Saturday and left this morning. For as much the introvert I am, and probably live up to that old cliche about guys and communication (I only talk when I have something to say and if I don't say anything, nothing's changed so don't bother me kid), it was good to have visitors. We all had a good time. Sunday after church we drove up to the corn maze (a maze cut into a corn field). Unfortunately I misread the flyer and they were closed on Sunday.

"No big deal," you say? True, the weather was gorgeous (it has been a SPLENDID autumn here in Montana) and the scenery was terific (sp) terrific (?) terriffic (?) teriffic (?) -- the scenery was fabulous. But remember, we're talking about Montana, so it was like a 200 mile trip to see a closed cornfield. Actually, I'm getting used to distances out here. You just need to remember to plan well.

So on Tuesday we called the owner and made an appointment to go through the maze that evening. Sis and b-i-l decided that they wanted to take an excursion to Yellowstone. They were out of the house at 0430. Said they had a good trip, got to see the sunrise in Yellowstone, saw several animals and Old Faithful. Then they met us up at the maze. We all had a good time getting lost and trying to figure out where we were. The owner said that if we weren't out by dark she would send in her "corn dogs" to rescue us.

From there we drove back home and stopped for pizza at a little place in Twin. If anyone comes to visit, make me take you there. It was, without a doubt, the best pizza I've ever had.

And this morning were the goodbyes and obligatory pictures for everyone back home who hasn't yet made it out. My b-i-l also helped change wiper blades. I mean, I'm not mechanical by any stretch of the imagination, and I can't even begin to decipher those little picture things that show you how do do the job. Nice guy, that b-i-l. We did, however, discover that NAPA apparently sold the wrong blade to me. So now I need to go back and say, "Hey, I'm not a genius, but it appears that this is wrong. Can you get the right one, and maybe show me how it goes on?"

In other news, our diocesan convention is this coming weekend. The deacon who filled in for the last five years will take the service at CC, and I've got one of the vestry members doing MP at St. P's. I asked him if he wanted me to write a sermon for him to read. He thought it would be best if he just led morning prayer.

Not much going on really, but it was nice just to sit down and blog about nothing in particular. I need to run some errands (bank, that NAPA thing, pick up hair supplies for Mrs. Ref, pay bills) and work on cleaning the office. It's amazing what you can get done when you don't have to write a sermon.

Congrats again to Dr. Frank.
Pray for the repose of the soul of Norm Schachter, referee in Super Bowl I.

YEAR C - PENTECOST 18 - PROPER 22

This is one of those gospels that might make you go, "What . . . ??" It starts off with the apostles saying, "Increase our faith!" and Jesus' response, "If you had the faith of a mustard seed . . . " And then it jumps right into a discussion about expectations of slaves. If you've read this gospel and have tried to figure out what the connection is, relax. There is no connection between the two stories.

I talked last week about stories and myths and how they change and develop and grow over time. Some of the accounts of Jesus fall into that category. You have to remember that the gospels were written many years after the death and resurrection of Jesus and they are not a verbatim account. Things were remembered, or adjusted or tweaked depending on who wrote what and to whom they were writing to. So it may be that Luke as Luke was writing the gospel he had one of those instances where he said, "Oh yeah, I need to put that in there too." But you also have to remember that they all have their basis in fact and they all have the opportunity to speak to our lives today.

So what does a story about slavery have to do with our lives today? Well, how about dishes? Or laundry? Or cooking, or cleaning the bathroom, or going to work? Jesus told the story about the slave because he wanted to talk about expectations. And, just like the slave, we have expectations to live up to every day. If we don't do dishes, pretty soon we are washing the crud off one dish at a time so we can eat. If we don't clean the bathroom, the mold, fungus and hairballs soon take over. If we don't go to work or do our job, don't bother going back.

But somewhere along the line people got the idea that they needed to be rewarded for doing what is expected of them. Jesus is saying, "No, you do what's expected because that's the way it is." Two stories come to mind. The first is over in the gospel of Matthew. He tells the story about the landowner who hires some workers early in the morning. They agree to a wage, and off they go. Later in the morning, he hires a few more. A few more are hired around noon. More are hired later in the day. And finally he hires a bunch almost at closing time. When he pays them, he pays the short-timers first and pays them the same wage as the all-day guys. When the all day guys get paid, what happens? They are upset because they don't get more. They are upset because they don't get rewarded. They are upset because they get paid exactly what was expected and agreed upon.

The second story is Leon. Leon is a character in a series of Budweiser commercials that run during football games. In this one particular commercial, Leon takes himself out of the game. The coach asks if he's hurt. Leon says, "Yeah. On that last play when I dropped the ball, the fans started booing pretty hard and it hurt my psyche. I need to take some 'Leon time.'" What this character doesn't realize is that he's paid, and expected to catch passes. When he doesn't do that, when he doesn't do what's expected, the fans have a right to be upset. Since when did we need rewards for doing what is expected of us?

We all have chores or jobs to do in which we are expected to do what's required. And that includes Christianity. There are certain things that we are expected to do. Feeding the hungry, inviting the outsider, and loving your neighbor come immediately to mind. We shouldn't invite someone to church to look good. We shouldn't donate to the food bank to pad our IRS deductions. We should pay attention to our neighbor to score points. We do it becuase Jesus commanded that we do it. We do it because that is what is expected of us, and there is no reward for doing the expected.

But what would you call it if the master had served the slave dinner? What would you call it if you took your child out for ice cream after their chores? What would you call it if, after you did the dishes, your spouse said, "Sit down, watch TV and let me get you some dessert." I'd call it grace. Grace isn't a reward. There are a couple of definitions of grace, and the one I like best is this: Grace is when you get what you don't deserve. Grace is when you get what you don't deserve. Grace is offered to us because God loves us, not because we behave properly or as a reward for doing what is expected. It's undeserved, and it abounds everywhere you look in the bible.

What happened after Adam & Eve sinned in the garden? God provided clothes for them.
What happened when Ruth, a Moabite, an outsider, followed her mother-in-law? God allowed her into the family line and she became an important person in the line of David and Jesus.
What happened when Jonah prophesied to Ninevah? [In the words of my daughter] God didn't blow them up and let them live.
What happened when God became man in Jesus? He died for our sins.

Grace is there because God loves us. Yes, we have expectations to live up to, and no, we shouldn't expect a reward for that. I think this is what Jesus was getting at though. We are expected to live a certain way, and when confronted by God about it we should say, "We are worthless slaves! We only did what we ought to have done."

But remember, grace is when you get what you don't deserve. We should do what we are expected to do, but we should also keep in mind that grace abounds. And that should make us say, "We are worthless slaves! We only did what we ought to have done. Thank you!"

Every day of our lives.