Corpus Christi 2009

Preached at Solemn Mass with Benediction on June 14, 2009

A few months ago a longtime friend and supporter of this parish, who was a retired priest, died. I had the opportunity to visit Father Charles Whipple in the hospital on a number of occasions before he died, and he always had a funny story to tell.

One time when I brought him Communion, he told me that I was the second person to bring him Communion that day. However, it would be the first time that he would receive. When I asked why he hadn’t received the first time, he told me. A friend came to visit a few hours earlier. When he arrived he stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a Communion wafer, which he tried to give to Father Whipple. When asked where he had gotten it, the friend said that at Sunday Mass he had pretended to eat the bread, while secretly hiding it in his pocket. Father Whipple said that his friend should consume the Sacrament immediately and repent for attempting to steal our Lord’s body.

I think that his response underscores the fact that in the Episcopal Church, as in many other churches, the Sacrament is treated with great reverence. I’m not sure it matter if you are very high church or not.
Ideally, priests, deacons or Eucharistic visitors don’t just stick a piece of bread from Sunday services in the pocket and bring it to someone else. Instead they carefully put it into a little container called a pix.

The Bread and Wine that is left over after Mass isn’t thrown away, it is consumed or reserved in Tabernacle so that it can be brought at a later time to those who are unable to attend the service.

Often those who take communion kneel to receive the Sacrament.

And of course there are more elaborate rites and rituals in some of the more Anglo-catholic churches. But for the most part, the vast majority of Episcopalians treat the bread and wine on the altar with more respect and reverence than they would a few wafers of bread at home.

Whatever the practice I think fair a question might be: What is so special about the Sacrament?

Today’s Gospel passage is part of larger discourse following the Feeding of the 5000 which is known as the Bread of Life Discourse. To answer why the Sacrament is so special, one can point toward today’s Gospel passage and proclaim that Jesus himself said that whoever eats his flesh and drinks his blood has eternal life. Though this discourse occurs earlier in the Gospel, Christians have long seen an association between it and the last Supper accounts in Matthew, Mark and Luke – as well as in Saint Paul’s writings.

Beyond those associations, I think it is helpful to approach the question by looking at with how Christians speak about themselves.

I think it is fair to state that all Christians, regardless of whether they believe in the Real Presence of Christ in the Bread and Wine, refer to themselves as children of God, as members of the Body of Christ in the world, and as heirs to the kingdom. I don’t think many Christians would have difficulty saying that at Baptism, by the grace of God, we are changed forever and we become children of God. We look the same, we often act in the same way, but we are still completely changed by grace of God. How that occurs is important, but I think, far less important than the fact that it does occur. And again, I think that most Christians would probably agree that we are changed by the grace of God.

It seems to me that it is not a particularly big jump to believe the same grace and power of God changes the bread and wine. It looks and tastes the same, but by the grace of God it is completely changed into the Body and Blood of Christ.

Once you recognize and believe that change to have occurred, though it seems merely a wafer, you treat the bread with respect because you believe God is present and has changed it into the Body of Christ.

What does that mean for us in our lives?

In the short term, I hope that will help to explain the end of today’s service to anyone who might be visiting. Benediction and a Procession of the Blessed Sacrament doesn’t make much sense if you don’t believe that Christ is really present in the bread and wine at communion. If its new to you, I hope you will enjoy a rite that simply expresses deep reverence for the Sacramental Presence of Christ.

But in the longer run, I hope that the reverence and care for the Sacrament on the altar that we are a part of today is something that you and I can bring into our every day lives with other members of the Body of Christ.

I began with a question and so I think I will end with a different question: What would the church look like if all Christians treated each other with the same care and respect that many Christians treat a few ounces of wine and a small wafer of bread?

Visitation 2009

My most recent trip to the Hospital was on Wednesday, May 13. I was there for the birth of my son Nicholas. I didn’t stay overnight, but my wife did for two days. While we were there, Fr. Smith, came over and visited us. His visit, just like the visits made by the clergy here when our first son was born, was greatly appreciated.

It doesn’t matter why someone is in the hospital: in my experience it makes an enormous difference to the person who is being visited. When you or I visit someone in the hospital or someone who is sick or even someone who is going through difficult times, it can make all the difference in the world. Like Mary bringing our Lord to visit her cousin Elizabeth, I believe that all such visitations have the potential of making the recipient of the visit unexpectedly leap for joy inside; they have the potential of suddenly making Christ present and making room for the Holy Spirit to do something amazing.

Maybe the connection is too obvious. On the feast of the Visitation, the priest reminded the congregation that it is important for all Christians to know that visiting people who are sick is important, but I can tell you, as a priest, it is a reminder that I sometimes need to hear, and when Fr. Smith visited us, I once again remembered what it was like to be on the other side of a visitation.

For the record, Fr. Smith didn’t just miraculously find us in the hospital. He knew we had gone because we told him that we were going to the hospital. I cannot read minds, and as far as I know, the other clergy here cannot read minds either. If you end up in the hospital, and if you want one of the priests or sisters of anyone at all to visit you, it helps if you make it known that you are actually in the hospital.

Maybe that also seems obvious, but I have had the some version of the following conversation more than a few times since I have been a priest:

“How come you didn’t visit so and so in the hospital?”

“I had no idea so and so was in the hospital!? What happened? How did you find out he was in the hospital?”

“He told me. He was in the hospital for a week and nobody visited him.”

“Well, nobody told me.”

“Oh I assumed you knew.”

Assuming that the priest will visit you is great. Asking for the priest to visit you is better.

The Feast of the Visitation can serve as a reminder of two things: When I need someone else, it helps to ask loudly and clearly. When someone asks for my presence, whether or not I know it, as part of the Body of Christ, I do not come alone, like Mary and all of the Saints, I bring the presence of Christ with me. And so do you.

Tomorrow Never Knows

Evensong on the Day of Pentecost 2009

In our first reading we heard how Moses instructs the people of Israel to celebrate the feast of seven weeks, known as the feast Pentecost. The feast was celebrated 50 days after the start of the harvest. The celebration that Moses orders is meant to be regular – celebrated every year, exactly 50 days after the first day of the harvest – presumably until the end of time.

This Jewish feast of Pentecost is picked up by Saint Luke in the Acts of Apostles and attached to the day when Jesus’ followers received the Holy Spirit. Like the Jewish feast that it is rooted in, Pentecost has become a feast celebrated each year, exactly fifty days after Easter Day – it is not so much a feast day rather than a celebration and culmination of the Easter Season.

I know that today is Pentecost, next Sunday is Trinity Sunday, after that Corpus Christi, and beginning this week we begin to settle into Ordinary Time for the Summer and Fall. I can look at a calendar and I know what to expect because I have done it before and I know what its going to be like.

It’s the same every year and I find comfort in such regularity. Somewhat contrary to this type of routine is the second reading. Jesus has told his followers that he is leaving, but he will leave them his Peace and give them the gift of the Holy Spirit. The disciples do not know what will happen next. They have questions and the answers that Jesus gives only begin to make sense after his Resurrection and the pouring out of the Holy Spirit.

I believe that in the midst of the regularity of the church year, as well as in the midst of the daily routine every single one of us cherishes, each of us encounters God working our lives in unexpected and mysterious ways.

A few examples: We scheduled Confirmation with Bishop Grein at this morning’s 11:00 AM Solemn Mass – Here we are tonight at what may be the first and only service of Evensong, Confirmation and Benediction that most – if not all – of us have or ever will attend. Bishop Grein is not here, but thankfully Bishop St John is. This entire evening is an unexpected blessing for all of us.

Two and a half weeks ago my wife and I celebrated the birth of our second child, Nicholas. Whatever daily routine we had developed has been completely shattered – I used to enjoy planning dinner each night of the week, now I am thrilled if the four of us are able to be in the same room together at the same time without someone crying. Life with a newborn and a 2-and-a-half year old who is delighted that he is suddenly a big brother has brought more challenges and blessings than I can count – all of them unexpected, but all of them filled with the mystery and love of God working in our lives. I never imagined that I would hear my older son Liam say: “I’m the one who gets to say: Lord Jesus make Nicholas a good boy.” I never saw that coming.

The most recent example, I can think of comes from a conversation I had this morning at Coffee Hour. At Solemn Mass a young boy was baptized and there were lots of other children present. A little girl who is in church every week named Joanna – no more than four years old – came up and asked me what Baptism was. I was caught off guard, but I gave my best answer. Baptism is when you begin a new life in Christ and when you get baptized you become part of the church. “Why do we get baptized”, she asked. I was basically ready for this after the last question: We get baptized because Jesus himself was Baptized and because he told us to Baptize others. Maybe not the most profound answers, but I thought it was ok for a four year old. Her last question caught me off guard again. “Why water?” I thought of quoting some passage of scripture or church doctrine about dying and rising and being cleansed from sin, but what I said was far less profound: “Its like a bath, you come out new. But you only have to take it once.” It wasn’t a perfect answer, but she got that I think.

When I think about it, every day of my life has served as a reminder that I can plan for what I think might happen next, but I do not know what tomorrow will bring. We don’t need to have answers to every question or a plan for every situation; the apostles didn’t, but every time I confront the unexpected and ask for God’s help I’ve found that the Lord is present in unexpected and mysterious ways.

I believe part of making a Christian adult affirmation of faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection is understanding that you and I will continually be faced with unexpected questions and situations that fall far outside out regular routine. As a Christian who continues to learn, I think the best advice I can give to any other Christian is this: continue to ask for God’s help and guidance and continue to pray for the Holy Spirit to fill you with wisdom, courage, and strength; and continue to spread the Good News of Christ to those around us.

2 minutes of prayer

Sermon preached at Evensong & Benediction, Easter 5, Year 1, May 10, 2009.

There are a number of different facets to my prayer life. In the morning and in the evening I say the Daily Office. Most days I celebrate at least one Mass. I pray before meals and at night with my family. And I pray alone. The environment that I am in influences how I pray and what I pray for.

Sometimes I pray for very general things: bless my family, keep them healthy – that sort of thing. At other times, I pray for specific things, very specific things. I think sometimes people have trouble with that type of prayer because it often doesn’t deliver the desired results. Someone can pray all they want for something specific to happen – I imagine that many people in the last year have been praying to get a new job, or to be more specific, to get that new job. If those prayers are not granted, what does it mean?


Jesus tells his disciples to ask, and it will be given. Knock and the door will be opened. He also says that through prayer they can do anything, heal people, cast out demons, even move mountains. As a person who prays and has not yet moved any mountains, what am I supposed to think about Jesus’ teaching on the power of prayer?

First, I don’t discount the power of God to do things that I might think are impossible. I know people who really have been miraculously healed through prayer. But beyond that, I think when we pray for those specific things, even if we don’t expect our prayers to act like magic wishes, we recognize those things in our life that are consuming us, and we can begin to ask for God’s help in moving through them or taking them on as challenges that we can face.

To use the job example – if someone is looking for a job and is not praying about that, isn’t that a lot like ignoring an 800 lb gorilla in the living room? If someone is sick and doesn’t specifically address that sickness in her prayers, what exactly is the person praying for?

I can a great deal about world peace and Christian unity, but my wife is going to have a baby any day now – I pray for her health, I pray for the baby, I pray for myself so that I can be a good father, and I pray for our 2 year old son so that he can be a great brother. I pray for specific things at specific times. By addressing the biggest and most obvious issues in my life, I am able to ask God for the power to help me focus on those issues. I am able to ask God for guidance and help in my life in very specific ways.

All of us have specific challenges in our lives that are standing in front of us like a big closed door. We don’t always know what is on the other side of that door, but at some point we need to go through the door. Recognizing that the door is there is the first act of prayer. You might pray for the strength to open it, or the courage to knock, or the persistence to keep knocking. Ignoring the door or pretending that it isn’t there isn’t going to make it go away and it certainly isn’t going to get the door opened.


One of the blessings that I have discovered each week is the 2 minutes of silence at Benediction – two minutes we will all be given in a few moments. I use that time to pray fervently about everything and anything that comes to mind. Sometimes my prayers are very specific, sometimes they are very general and vague, sometimes I simply stare at the Blessed Sacrament in adoration. Whatever I do, I am spiritually fed for two minutes in a way that is unique to the rest of the week. With that in mind I would like to offer a suggestion. Open your heart and soul completely to the love and power of God in prayer tonight. Take that two minutes as the blessing that it is and take a good long look at whatever doors you know are in front of you and then knock.

A solid foundation

Sermon preached at Evensong & Benediction, Easter 4, Year 1, May 3, 2009

I often use the example of the wise and foolish house builders from today’s Gospel passage when I officiate and preach at a wedding. I think that the passage works well with trying to live out the vows the couple makes to each other. Its more common than you might think for couple to ask to write their own vows at a wedding. Often the vows that people want to make are things that are impossible to live up to.

A few examples that I have heard:
I promise to show you my love for you every day of my life.
I promise to bring you flowers when you are sad.
I promise to remember every birthday and anniversary.
I promise to be there whenever you need me.
I promise that we will never disagree again.

I always steer couples toward the vows in the BCP, by explaining that these things sound nice and some of them may be very sentimental, but honestly, after 5 years of marriage, I can tell you that, if any of those were vows I had made, I would have broken all of them – many, many times.

Sentimental things don’t necessarily last. Every husband will forget to bring flowers more than once. Every couple will have very painful arguments. In the same way, many things that people think are essential also don’t always last. Money and a great job sometimes disappear. Physical looks change and fade as decades pass. Everyone eventually develops health issues. To build a marriage on any one of those things, to vow to do something that cannot realistically be done is no different than building a house on a foundation of sand. The foundation isn’t solid and the house will eventually fall down.

What doesn’t change, fade or end is the love that God has for each of us. By dying and rising from the grave, Jesus conquered all the powers of this world, including death and by his rising we know that not even death can separate us from the love of God. Modeling a marriage on the love that God has for each us is like building a house on a rock solid foundation. I encourage couples to understand that the vows the church authorizes recognize that life changes, but with the help of God, love can continue to grow through those changes.

I know that not every person here is married. I know that many people will never get married. Still, I believe this image can be used by every single one of us in every relationship that we have. Looking at each other less with eyes that see only temporary details and more and more as a co-heir in Christ and a child of God makes all the difference in the world. My marriage has been greatly helped by the fact that it was built on the foundation of Jesus Christ and his love for all people. May the Holy Spirit fill us all so that we can begin to build all of our relationships on the love of God and see and treat every person as a child of God.

Easter 3, 2009

I love Eastertide. Its one of the few seasons in an Anglo-catholic parish where you can get away with a good old fashioned call and response. Are you ready to respond?

Alleluia! Christ is Risen! I love that.

All of our readings this morning focus on witnessing and testifying to the resurrection of Jesus. In the Gospel when the risen Lord appeared to his disciples he informed them that they were witnesses of this good news which was to be preached to all people, and this is exactly what Saint Peter and Saint John are doing a while later in the Acts of the Apostles. Likewise, Saint John’s begins his first letter by reiterating his testimony about the risen Lord Jesus:


That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life-- the life was made manifest, and we saw it, and testify to it, and proclaim to you the eternal life which was with the Father and was made manifest to us-- that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you may have fellowship with us; and our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ.

I am struck by is the freshness and the newness of this apostolic witness. The apostles were sent to proclaim this news to people who had never heard it before. Just as it was shock and a surprise to them that Jesus rose from the dead, news of that resurrection must have been a surprise to the people they told. Had they ever even heard of Jesus? Had they ever encountered anyone seriously convinced that he had risen from the dead? It must have been very exciting.


Its not the same thing, but that type of excitement reminds me of how I felt about six months ago. My wife and I are expecting our second child any day now. My guess is that if you see her today, you will know that she is pregnant. Its pretty obvious, so I don’t need to announce it. But six months ago, when I first announced it nobody knew, nobody had any idea, it wasn’t obvious and it was such a thrill telling people about something that they hadn’t heard and hadn’t seen yet that meant so much to both of us. Now, anybody can see that we are expecting a child. I don’t need to say anything at all.

I’d like to ask you all a question: do you think that the resurrection of Jesus and the good news of the Gospel is obvious to everyone? Do you think everyone knows who Jesus is?


When I was a little boy, I thought everyone knew about Jesus. I thought that the good news of Christ was as obvious to everyone as a pregnancy is by the ninth month. As a child, I was able to go to church, worship God, and enjoy the fact that there wasn’t much work to be done spreading the good news of Jesus: everyone I knew already knew who Jesus was.

There are times in history in specific places where that was probably true for almost everyone. In Europe 500 years ago, I believe that most everyone probably did know who Jesus was. Most people probably had encountered many Christians of deep faith and conviction.

But I’m not so sure that we live in a world where that is true anymore. I don’t think that’s a bad thing, in fact, I think it puts all of us into a position that is similar to the position the first disciples and apostles were in. Nobody knows what we know. For that reason, I think it’s a very exciting time to be a Christian. There are so many people who have not yet heard the good news that each one of us knows.

There are many ways to spread that news, I don’t think the method is particularly important. I do believe that every person has a natural inclination to want to share what they know with those who are in the dark. We want others to know what we know, don’t we? I can tell you how difficult it was for the first three months of my wife’s pregnancy to keep the news a secret. I wanted to let everyone know, but the time just wasn’t right. Now is the time to tell someone about the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Now is the time to testify to what we have seen with out eyes and heard with our ears concerning the Word of Life. Now is the time to shout out what you know.

Are you ready?

Alleluia, Christ is Risen!

May the Holy Spirit assist us to speak with such joy and conviction to those who people we know who have not yet heard that good news. Amen.

Rose Sunday

Many, but not all, churches lighten the mood a little bit on the fourth Sunday in Lent. That custom probably mirrors an obscure papal practice which itself is attested as already being an ancient custom 1000 years ago. On the fourth Sunday in Lent, the pope blesses a golden rose. The rose would then be presented to some individual or some place as a mark of special papal favor. Though, to this day, a Golden rose is blessed each year, it is not always given out. Since the world is not populated by all that many people or places worthy of being marked by such an honor, it became a rare gift: when no recipient could be found the Pope kept the Golden Rose.

The connection between the Golden Rose the rosy vestments and altar hangings used in churches today may seem like a loose one, but I don’t think it is.

To me, it makes perfect sense. If I saw the pope bless a flower for an extra special Christian or an extra special church every year, my first thought would be: “Why can’t I have one?” or better yet: “Why can’t my church have a rose?” Whose to say that this place isn’t worthy enough or special enough to celebrate Rose Sunday? And so, the custom spread.

Eventually the reason for all the roses was forgotten and other reasons and names for the Sunday become commonplace. In England, a tradition of Mothering Sunday spun out of the combination of the roses and an epistle reference to mother church. In most of America the Sunday is known simply as Rose or Refreshment Sunday because that’s what the day looks and feels like. And in Anglo-catholic circles, the Sunday is known as Laetare Sunday for two reasons. First, Laetare is the first word of the entrance song: it means rejoice. Second, Anglo-Catholics like Latin words.

Though its origin is obscure, I think that knowing why the color changes is important. In this case, at face value, the official ancient practice of the church seems odd. What does it mean to give a special blessed gift to a particularly worthy person? Even odder: what does it mean if nobody at all is considered worthy enough?

Perhaps without overtly answering those questions, Christians simply responded by putting roses in every church for every Christian: going so far as to dress up not only the altar, but the priests in very bright and rosy vestments: this particular number was originally a woman’s dress and its several hundred years old. Who needs a golden rose when your church has this? I think that’s precisely the point.

Deep down, I believe that most Christians understand that the love of God is a gift. Salvation isn’t something we have to earn, it isn’t something that the church officially bestows on people who seem worthy, its simply a gift that God gives to all who believe.

The earliest understanding of what it means to be a person who believes in Jesus informs all Christians:

What does Paul say?
By grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God-- not because of works, lest any man should boast.

The roses are a celebration of the fact that God’s love is a gift. What a contrast to the world we live in. Its impossible to get through a day without hearing someone ask “How much is this going to cost?” Even the Gospel passage begins with this question: How much will it cost to buy bread for all these people. There are two answers: the apostles give the first: Too much; more than we can afford. Jesus gives a different answer: nothing.

Those who were with Jesus in the wilderness didn’t earn the bread that he gave them… he simply gave it to them because they had followed him. That bread is like the roses. It is a sign that Jesus offers himself to all of us, paying the entire cost by offering himself on the cross; He is the true bread which does not simply sustain life, but brings about eternal life.

You don’t need to climb through the ladders of industry and business to have eternal life. You don’t need to be seen by someone as worth or valuable enough to hold onto eternal life. You never get laid off as a member of the Body of Christ. The love of God doesn’t get harder and harder to afford.

After looking through the history of Rose Sunday, I am pretty sure that most Christians already know that. I know how important it can be to be reminded of it sometimes though, I know how important it is to know that there may not be a free lunch, but the love of God is a gift - 100% free. Today we are offered this wonderful reminder, not only for ourselves, but we are reminded that not every knows what we know. Not everyone gets it.

The next time you hear someone say “How much is this going to cost?” remember Jesus and pray that the Spirit will find some way to explain that not everything in life may come at a cost, but eternal life does not. Jesus has already died and rose for all of us and he is already preparing a place for each of us in his Father’s house, where there are many room, and none of them require a credit card.

Sermon for Lent 2, 2009

It is not easy to be a person of faith; though, if you examine our first two readings, you might think otherwise.

Abraham trusts in God so much that he is willing to head up the mountain with his son Isaac because he knows that “The Lord will provide.” And God does provide the lamb, sacrificed in the place of his child, in a scene that prefigures the Lamb of God, Jesus Christ, sacrificed will for all of the children of Abraham.

Saint Paul’s faith in the love of God in Christ is such that he can boldly proclaim: I am sure that nothing at all can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

There are certainly moments when my faith is rock solid, I’d like to think, like that of Abraham or Paul, but more often I do not have such clarity or such boldness. Those moments are moments of doubt. Doubt is something everyone has but nobody ever wants to talk about.

And so I ask: Is it ok to have doubt?
Some would answer, No, it is not ok to have doubt. I think its for this reason that many people claim that they never doubt. They will insist that their faith is rock solid. Like Abraham and Paul, who in difficult times kept firm and held fast, they never doubt God for a second. Doubt, is not ok, and those who doubt are not really believers because they don’t believe.

I think that answer is unrealistic and specifically for Christians, I think that answer is very problematic.

I think its unrealistic because I can pretend that I do not suffer from doubt and fear, but that doesn’t make those things go away. I’ve always been surprised that there are so many people who do pretend that they have no fears, no regrets, and no doubts. Not me: I have fears; I have regrets: I have doubts.

I think its fair to place doubt at the root of all temptations. Don’t you view doubt as the source from which every other temptation is allowed to grow and fester? I do.

That is why as a Christian, I think its problematic to dismiss the fact that everyone has doubts. Jesus Christ suffered just as we suffer and he was tempted just as we are tempted. If Jesus was not tempted as we are how can we claim at all that he suffered just as we did – mental anguish is at least as traumatic as physical anguish. Remember, it is Jesus who cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” right before he died.

One does not have to give in to doubt to be tempted by it, and it seems to me that once you do give in to doubt, it becomes so much easier to give in to everything else. To acknowledge something doesn’t mean you embrace it, it means you name it, you identify it, and you can begin to reject it.

Though I recognize that I have doubt, I try not embrace the doubts that I have; I do not like them at all, I am afraid of them, but I know that I have them, and following the example of the saints and of Jesus himself, I pray that I may not fall into temptation, so that I can say “No” to doubt and “Yes” to God.

I would be surprised to find out that Saint Paul, after his conversion, never had moments where his faith was weak. I would be surprised if Abraham walked up the mountain in complete confidence. Don’t you think he was probably praying desperately that the Lord would indeed provide?

Listen to the words of Saint Paul again. He is not blind to the difficulties of life; he does not speak from a place of assurance or ease. He confronts his greatest fears and doubts head on and names them one by one:

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, “For thy sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Lent is an opportunity to stop pretending that life is perfect. The music stops, and the singing becomes more difficult. The flowers disappear, and the church seems more imposing. The entire season begins with a reminder that you are dust and to dust you will return: life, which we all hold so dear, is not just fragile, but fleeting. Its not easy being human, its even harder being a Christian, and that is a fact that nobody can run away from.

This Lent, don’t be afraid to name those things that scare you. Recognizing doubt, suffering, grief, pain, fear and sin doesn’t mean you have to give in to them or be overwhelmed by them.

I don’t think its possible to really pick up the cross and follow Jesus if you are unwilling to name those things which are making it so hard to pick up the cross in the first place.

Pray to God to have the strength to see his love and light more clearly. Pray for God to help and support your faith. Pray that you will not enter into temptation. Know that as you walk through a life this is filled with uncertainty, suffering, and fear… you are not alone. Jesus Christ took up the same cross and he is walking beside you with all the saints.

And know that as he took up the cross Jesus conquered all suffering, he conquered death and has prepared a place for you in his Father’s house, where this no suffering, where there is no pain, and all of the doubts and darkness that torment us in life are dispelled forever by the light of Christ.

Angelus Article: The Language of Lent

My son Liam, who is not quite two and a half years old yet, is learning to speak English at a rate that I find quite surprising. For the past few days he has thoroughly enjoyed climbing up on the couch cushions so that he can look out the window in our living room. Once settled on his perch, he exclaims: "Look at my up here!". "Look at me up here," I say. "Look at meee up here!" he repeats. He's using the correct word, but not the correct form of the word. Likewise, he will often march into the living room and announce: "I take me shoes off!" His statement is not technically true since he is wearing his shoes. What he really means is that he wants to take them off. Again, he has the right word, but he isn't using the correct form of the verb. Still he's getting better day by day, and as a father, I think it's a thrilling thing to be a part of.

I am trying to learn Spanish this Lent (or more correctly, to begin learning Spanish). I know Latin, Greek and Hebrew, which are all very convenient when working as a parish priest, but I've discovered that knowing Spanish, especially in New York City, would be helpful. Simply for the sake of further-reaching pastoral care, outreach and evangelism, I believe it would be a very useful thing for any parish priest to know. So far, I'm sort of the opposite of Liam in my new linguistic skills: I know the correct forms, but I can't seem to remember many of the correct words. Its fun, but frustrating: I want to learn the language now. I should remember that Liam will spend years learning English; in fact, he's spent the last six months building up a vocabulary that consists almost entirely of words related to clothing, food, numbers and colors. At this point I would be happy simply to be able to say the Spanish equivalent to "Look at my up here!" from the pulpit.

Reflecting on the time that it takes to really learn something leads me to Lent and Holy Week. This is my fifth Lent at Saint Mary's, and it will be my sixth Holy Week (my first year I was in Seminary during Lent and assisted at the parish throughout Holy Week as Deacon). The details and forms of the Lenten worship life at Saint Mary's continue to sink in, I continue to learn new things, but I note that this year I feel far more comfortable with the language of Lenten worship here than I ever have before. The last few years I had been tripped up by the minor liturgical changes that Lent brings, and I'd been caught of guard by the simplicity of the season. So far, not this year. So far Lent is Lent, not a new season that brings complications for my life as the Curate for Liturgy, not a sudden change of gear, but a daily progression toward Holy Week and Easter that flowed right out of Christmas and has gotten serious. I noticed for the first time this year that the hymns on the last Sunday after Pentecost feature tunes that are more familiarly from Holy Week and Easter. I'm seeing clearly the link between the Scriptural texts that are read throughout Lent and those read during Holy Week and Easter. I believe that this clarity is the result, not simply of learning Lent and Holy Week at Saint Mary's, but living it. In a sense, it's like that moment - a moment I can only envy that others have had - when one becomes so familiar with another language that one actually starts thinking or dreaming in it. I'm no longer thinking about what Lent is, I am just enjoying living each Lenten day and feeling the progress toward Easter.

At some point Liam began to think in English. I don't know when that happened, I can only hope that I am able one day to feel what it is like to think in another language. But when that happens, my learning will not be complete, it will probably feel like a fresh beginning all over again! I feel sort of like I have finally begun to think in the language of Lent, and I am looking forward to where this will lead me as I continue to live, breathe, think, and even dream about the love of God in Christ that can be experienced so gloriously in the church. Living out the liturgical life of the church year is possible at Saint Mary's - that cannot be said of every church, which I think is very sad. This Lent, I encourage and invite you to walk through the doors of this church as many times as you are able. It'll make a huge difference when you walk through the doors here on Palm Sunday. You'll know more of the grammar and vocabulary that the church has used for two thousand years to proclaim the triumph of the cross and the joy of the resurrection. Matthew Mead

Ash Wednesday 2009

Today we begin Lent, but an event from a few days ago is still on my mind.

The last few days, the parish mourned the loss of a long time clergy friend, Fr. Charles Whipple. Fr. Whipple died last Friday and his funeral was on Monday. There are a number of traditions used in the church. Some are more well known, like the administering of ashes at the beginning of Lent, others are not as well known. One of these lesser known traditions is that a priest is normally buried in a set of vestments. The vesting of the priest’s body, is traditionally done by other priests. Over the weekend, Fr. Smith and I went to the funeral home and vested Fr. Whipple.

It was one of the most moving things I have ever been a part of. Putting clothes that are just like those that I wear every day – clothes that symbolize not only the living work of the church, but also eternal and everlasting life offered in Jesus death and resurrection. It was among the most real things I’ve ever done. He was dead, but he was being dressed for the wedding Feast of the Lamb of God.

I don’t think that situation is all that different from Ash Wednesday. We put ashes on our heads, not - like the hypocrites described in today’s Gospel - not because we are showing off piety. Ashes are administered with the words: Remember you are dust… and to dust you shall return. It is a stark reminder that life is fragile, that our bodies are mortal, and that all of us will die. It is also a stark reminder that though we are mortal, though we will die, yet in Christ we are offered eternal life. In that way, Ash Wednesday is the beginning of Lent, but more importantly, it points directly toward Easter when we will celebrate the Resurrection and fact that the love of God conquers everything, even death, even dust.

We don’t just offer ashes at the masses. Ashes are also offered in the chapels and in the church throughout the day. I like ashing in the chapels. There are two types of people who get ashes: both are wonderful. The first are those who come solemnly up to the rail or into the chapel and receive ashes in silence.

The second are those who walk into the chapel and smile and say “Good Morning!”. “Good Morning, I say. And then I add as I trace a cross of ash on the person’s forehead. “Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.” “Thanks Father! Have a great day!” “You’re welcome, have a great Lent!”

The two response illustrate the solemnity and also the joy of what we do today and what we look forward to at Easter. They are often born out in differing Lenten devotions. Many people fast and abstain from things during Lent, so that the Joy of Easter will be both a spiritual feast for the soul and also physical feast for the body! Others, instead of fasting and giving things up, will often take up something: an act of charity, or a particular devotion, in an effort to anticipate and live out the joy of the new life in Christ. Both types of devotions are great.

If you haven’t come up with a Lenten Devotion, I’d like to suggest one. Look for someone who hasn’t yet experienced they joy of easer, someone who mourns as we all do at a funeral, but who hasn’t yet seen the joy of the resurrection, someone who might not have been in church for many years, or someone who hasn’t ever been to church. Use Lent as a time to show and tell that person about the joy of Jesus and what his resurrection means for all of us. Because today we are reminded not only of our mortality, we are reminded what our faith in God really means.

Sermon on Prayer: Sunday, Epiphany 6, 2009

Today’s readings offer three different responses top prayer. The Gospel is about a simple, straightforward request of Jesus with a direct and immediate response. The OT passage is also a straightforward request, but the response is not what Naaman wants or expects. Finally, the Psalm offers the feeling we have all had when a prayer seems to go unanswered. The Psalmist laments that those around him constantly make fun of him, saying: Where now is your God?” To me, that seems very similar to Jesus crying out just before he died: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me!” Three different responses to prayer, and I think its fair to say we’ve all experienced all three.

In the Gospel we hear of a prayer immediately heard and granted. I recently have noted the vast amount of healing that Jesus does in Saint Mark’s gospel. There are so many healed just like the leper we heard about to day, but at the same time, there were doubtless many others who never had the opportunity to cry out to Jesus as he walked by, who never had the opportunity to be one of those in the crowd who saw him face to face, or heard his voice or touched his hand or even the hem of his garment.

A few years ago I discovered a number of prayers folded up behind the crucifix in the Mercy Chapel. Some were older and others were newer, but they all seemed to be written by the same hand. They all asked for a new job… today. “Lord, help me to find a new job today.” “Jesus, today I need a job.” “Lord Jesus, give me the job I am interviewing for today.” It made me sad because the prayers had been specific, and they had been sincere, they were the prayers that many people are praying today, and yet they had not been immediately answered.

I have trouble with that, and I don’t know if there is a simple or satisfying way to explain it.

I think its for that reason that many of my prayers are general prayers. “Bless my wife. Bless my son. Bless the baby. Keep them healthy. Show them the face of your Son, Jesus Christ.” These are the type of prayers I say every night, along with the Lord’s Prayer and a few other standards. They are good prayers, and they are direct, but I don’t think they are very specific.

Sometimes I do say specific prayers, but it takes more of an effort to say a specific prayer, I would argue that it takes more courage. Usually when my prayers get specific its because I’ve reached a point where it seems only God can help me.

Two weeks ago I celebrated and preached at Candlemas for the big Solemn Mass and Procession. A week before the service I started working on my sermon. By Saturday I had a few interesting tidbits, but no real content… no substance. By chance I spoke to my father that Saturday morning at 11:15 AM, and the fact that I didn’t have a sermon came up. He didn’t say: “you’ll think of something, keep working on it.” Instead he said a prayer for me, praying specifically for my sermon. I said thanks, hung up. I grabbed my laptop computer and went to the Sacristy for the thirty minutes I had before getting ready for the noonday Mass. Over the next half hour I wrote my entire sermon for Candlemas.

That day my prayer and my father’s prayer was answered immediately. It was a wonderful thing, but I can tell you that many of the specific prayers I pray don’t get answered like that, and that’s why I think it was so special.

I believe all of us suffer and struggle and go through periods where it doesn’t feel like anyone is on our side, not even God, I think we have all had moments where we have wanted to cry out: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me!” I also believe that we all know what its like when it seems God answers our prayers immediately. Jesus prayed in the garden before his Passion. Jesus knew exactly what its like to feel that he was going to die before his prayer was answered.

For that reason, praying takes courage and praying takes patience. But I want you to know from the bottom of my heart, that I believe all of our prayers are heard and answered.

Sometimes that answer is incredibly direct and immediate – like how I felt writing my Candlemas sermon. Other times that answer makes me feel like Naaman, not satisfied at first because I was hoping for something a little different. And of course, there are plenty of things that I have prayed specifically for that I am still waiting on, and more importantly, that I am still praying for. Whenever I pray, I know God is listening. I don’t feel a hand on my shoulder. I don’t hear a voice that responds with kind words. I know that God hears my prayer because I always experience a response.

Most often, I experience the closeness and love of God. When I pray for someone and I worry that he or she isn’t going to get well, I am sad, but at the same time my heart leaps for joy as it is filled with the knowledge of the resurrection. I know that life doesn’t end with paid or suffering or even, death, but because of the love of God, the thundering silence of death is answered with the resurrection and the gift of eternal life for all of us.

When I pray for difficult times to get better and I am sure that things will get worse before they get better, whether its praying with friends for a new job or praying for the economy to improve, I take comfort in the fact that Jesus himself suffered with us and for us, that he prayed with and for his friends, and that he went through life and death, just like all of us, before rising again from the grave.

When I ask God to bless me, my family, or my friends, or my church, I always experience a clear understanding of the many ways God has already and will continue to bless and me and those around me.

And so if you are afraid to say a specific prayer, don’t be – please don’t be. If you are afraid nobody is listening, have faith that God is always listening and always responding. Remember that half of praying is asking, but the other half is listening for an answer. Pray boldly and pray specifically. If you aren’t sure what to pray for: Pray for yourself. Pray for your family and your friends. Pray for your enemies. Pray for peace. Pray for justice and mercy. Pray for this church and all churches. Pray for specific things. Prayer for the big picture. And pray for the courage to pray even more boldly and more often.

Angelus article for February 15, 2009: Something about the Scriptures

One of the features of daily life at Saint Mary’s is the occasional overlap of lectionaries that are used. For instance, right now the Gospel according to Mark is being read at Sunday Mass, at Evening Prayer, and at daily Mass. Because each of these three services follows a different lectionary the Gospel is being read at differing paces, and we are at three different places in the narrative. This Sunday we continue to read from the first chapter of Mark, and we will crawl through the narrative all year. At Evening Prayer this week we are reading the ninth and tenth chapters of Mark, and we will have read the Gospel (minus the concluding events narrated in chapters 13-16) in six weeks. This week at daily Mass we are reading the seventh chapter of the Gospel, and it will take a total of nine weeks to read at daily Mass what was read in six weeks at Evening Prayer.

When it happens, this overlap can be confusing, and to be honest, somewhat annoying. “Didn’t we just read that?” is a common sentiment of those who attend the daily services. A few weeks ago the same Gospel passage was read at Evening Prayer and then read again at the evening Mass. That said, the benefits far outweigh any negatives. Hearing the same passages read by different people in different contexts has often had the effect of revealing new things to me, things that I hadn’t ever noticed. Until recently, I had never noticed how much healing Jesus does in the Gospel of Mark.. Time and again Jesus is surrounded by those seeking healing: at one point we are told that the market in a local town was completely filled with the sick, at another point we read that the crowds of those who were sick were so thick that it was enough simply to try to touch Jesus’ clothes.

Because we are reading slowly through John’s Gospel at Evensong – yet another lectionary cycle – I have felt a sharper contrast in the way John and Mark tell the story of Jesus than I had ever felt before. John focuses so much on the words of Jesus as a means for interpreting what has just happened, whereas Mark rarely takes a break from narrating events and scenery. The image of Jesus completely surrounded by people desperately seeking healing might appear in John’s Gospel (certainly at Bethesda that is true), but it’s not an image I associate with that Gospel. Likewise I believe Jesus’ extended remarks on the Bread from Heaven at the feeding of the 5000 would feel extremely out of place in Mark’s narrative.

For me, hearing these different texts makes it seem obvious that the different writers spoke about Jesus in very different ways. The lectionary doesn’t provide Gospel passages only, we also read great swaths of the Old and New Testament throughout the year. This week at daily Mass the Biblical account of creation was read. The story of creation is told in the first chapter–we are told that “it was good”. The story of creation is told again in chapters two and following. We are told that early on things took a slightly less “good” turn. I think that the account of creation also illustrates that there are different ways of speaking about the same thing: in this case, the centrality of God in every part of our lives, beginning at creation.

I believe that for the most part Christians accept that the Scriptures speak with many voices from history while still speaking with one voice in the Holy Spirit. Christians deal with that seeming contradiction, sometimes picking favorites and identifying least favorites – Martin Luther famously referred to the letter of James as “an Epistle of straw” – but rarely taking the step of actually trying to remove those texts they have difficulty with from the Scriptures. The Scriptures, to my eyes and ears, look a whole lot like the Church. Like the Bible, the Church contains enormous variety that is not always easy to accept; I wonder if that sometimes-begrudging acceptance of certain difficult texts is more often paralleled with acceptance of certain difficult Christians or not.

Prayerful and academic Bible study has led me to a deeper understanding of the Scriptures, and I appreciate more than I used to that different people express their faith in God in radically different ways. Not every passage of the Bible is my favorite, but I have found that when I let the text speak for itself, rather than assuming I already understand and know what it has to say, something new is often revealed to me, and I gain insight and perspective into someone else’s faith. Honestly, not every denomination, nor even every Episcopal church, is my favorite, but I have found that prayerfully listening with patience to those with whom I have difficulty often allows me to gain equally great insight and perspective into how someone else lives out their faith in Jesus Christ.

Evensong - Epiphany 5 - 2009

YEAR 1, EPIPHANY 5, SUNDAY: EVENSONG & BENEDICTION:
GENESIS 24:50-67, JOHN 7:37-46; MARK 14:12-16,22-26

The Gospel of John is notoriously difficult to translate. The meaning of certain passages changes drastically if a word is translated one way or another. Often a bigger problem is simply where to put the punctuation mark.

When reading the Gospel according to John – or for that matter any part of the Bible – I think that’s its helpful to remember the title of a book by Lynn Truss lamenting the state of written English in the UK and the US. The book is titled: “Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation”

A comma in the phrase Eats, Shoots and Leaves means the difference between a verb and two nouns or three verbs. The comma makes all the difference in the world. With a comma it sounds like a man with a gun, pull out the comma and it sounds like a panda bear eating lunch.

Our passage from John tonight can be translated two different ways depending on how the punctuation is laid out:

“If any one thirst, let him come to me and drink. He who believes in me, as the scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart shall flow rivers of living water.’” (RSV)

In this case the living water flows from the heart of the person who believes in Jesus.

Or it can be translated: “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.’” (NRSV)

In this second translation, the living water flows from Jesus himself and it Jesus who satisfies the believer.

Which is correct? The answer depends entirely on who you ask and which version of the Bible you own. Any church using the Revised Standard Version – a very popular translation – heard tonight’s passage the way we did, the first way, which interprets the living water pouring out of the believer’s heart. Any church using the New Revised Standard Version – an equally popular translation – heard tonight’s passage the second way, which interprets the living water pouring forth from Jesus and being drunk by the believer.

Again, I think its fair to ask which is correct?

Interestingly, I think that Christian tradition and theology – and perhaps most important, your average faithful Christian – would all be comfortable with either translation.

As believers we know that Jesus himself gives us the living water of eternal life. Living water that mirrors the water that poured forth from the rock in Moses’ day and satisfied the Israelites’ thirst in the desert, but for us does not simply keep us alive, but gives us eternal life. This is the living water that we are immersed in at Baptism into which we die and rise again with Christ.


At the same time, it is from the heart of every believer that this living water pours forth into the world, spreading the good news of Christ. This interpretation makes me think of Ezekiel’s vision of the Temple out of which flows salvation to all people.

I think the two different interpretations help to underscore the reality that the believer, filled by the power of the Holy Spirit doesn’t simply mirror Jesus but becomes Jesus’ very Body in the world. The living water is poured out both by Christ on the believer and by the believer onto other others.

Its certainly true that there are difficult issues that arise when you carefully study any passage of the Bible. Some passages don’t agree with other passages. Some passages can be translated in ways that change their meaning in remarkable and sometimes challenging ways.


Sadly, I think many Christians retreat from these challenges. Once a good translation is found, other translations are often viewed as inferior or even repugnant. Four years ago I was heckled during a sermon when I mentioned that many other translations were as valuable as the 400 year-old King James Version. Last year someone walked out of my weekly Bible Study because we were using the “Saint Mary’s Bible” – commonly referred to as the Revised Standard Version – instead of the “Real Bible” – commonly known as the King James Version.

I’m not sure how helpful it is to insist on one translation or to pretend that there aren’t difficulties in the text. Scholars settle on alternate translations because they recognize that a certain passage can honestly be translated in a variety of ways.


In my study of the Bible, I’ve discovered that such variety is a blessing. I often find new meaning in a passage that I’ve thought I understood for years. My understanding of the text isn’t changed, rather, its deepened.

Tonight’s passage was probably heard by most people here as referring to the believer. But it can also be interpreted as referring to Jesus. I think that’s fantastic because it underscores – in ways I hadn’t even thought about until today – the unity that every Christian has with Christ as well as with every other Christian.

The Scriptures are living texts that continue to spread the Gospel to new people in new ways. I believe that by studying them, interpreting them, and even struggling with them, you and I will open the gates of our hearts wider and wider so that the power of the Spirit can flow forth from each of us in ways that are deeper and more profound that any of us ever expected.

Candlemas 2009

Tonight we celebrate a feast with a number of different names. Its is affectionately known as Candlemas, but that’s not its official name. In most churches, including the Episcopal Church, it is officially known as the Presentation of Jesus Christ in the Temple. Up until the liturgical renewal movement in the 1950s, 60s and 70s, it was generally known as the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary – and in some churches it is still called by that name.

These names are drawn from events heard in tonight’s Gospel account. As pious Jews, Mary and Joseph were fulfilling two rituals proscribed in the Law.

The first ritual involved the first male child born in the family. According to the Books of Exodus and Numbers, the first male was given back to the Lord and presented in the Temple. Sometimes, very rarely, the child would actually be given to the temple and raised there, such as in the case of the prophet Samuel. More often, however the child would be redeemed with a money offering.

The second ritual is rooted in ritual and purity laws from the Book of Leviticus and involved the mother. Having giving birth, the mother was regarded as ritually unclean. After forty days – eighty if the child was a girl – the mother was directed to offer a sacrifice for her purification: A lamb if she was able to, or two turtle doves if she was poor.

I’m not sure why the Purification of Mary, rather than the Presentation of Jesus, was highlighted for so long, since it focuses less attention on Jesus and more on the fulfillment of a purity ritual. In any event, the name change to the Presentation reflects the reality that the feast is really all about Jesus. A fact which I think, perhaps ironically, is made even more evident when examining the ritual of purification narrated by Saint Luke.


I mentioned the offering that Mary was to give: a lamb or two turtle doves. Being poor, she and Joseph offered two turtle doves. But the reality is that they also brought with them a lamb – Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God. It is Jesus who will, years later, himself be offered as a sacrifice. One offered not for the purity of his mother in the Jewish Temple, but for the sins of the whole world on the cross.

With that in mind, I think its fair to say that our celebration tonight points directly toward Holy Week and Easter: the Passion, Death and Resurrection of the Lamb of God.

I believe that the point of the Gospel tonight is that Simeon and Anna see and recognize God. Filled with the Spirit, both the righteous old man and the pious old prophetess look at a child and see only the Lamb of God, the Messiah, the Savior of the World. They saw exactly what John the Baptist saw thirty years later at the Jordan when he suddenly pointed to Jesus and exclaimed: “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!”
The prophetess Anne, in what may have been her last prophetic word, spoke to everyone she saw about this baby boy. Saint Luke doesn’t write that she said he had his mother’s eyes or that he might someday be a carpenter. He writes that she told everyone who had been waiting and looking for the redemption of Jerusalem that she had found it in the baby Jesus.

Likewise, the words of Simeon are not a lullaby for a baby boy; they are words of recognition about the Son of God who will open the gate of heaven to all people, Jew and Gentile, by dying on the cross and rising from the grave.

“Mine eyes have seen thy salvation which thou has prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for the glory of thy people Israel.”


The candle light procession that we started with tonight is as much a celebration of Jesus Christ who is the Light of the world as it is a celebration that we can see that Light. It develops because Christians are dramatically illustration the fact that they have been enlightened and, like Simeon and Anna, can see Jesus for who he really is.

I love Candlemas because I love watching the candle light slowly spread from person to person because it reminds me of how Anna and Simeon, who had waited so long to see Jesus, were finally able to. And when their eyes saw, their voices spread the good news of Jesus to the people they encountered.

I also love Candlemas because I know that when Candlemas arrives, I Lent is right around the corner and Easter is not that far away. I do love Candlemas, but I really love Holy Week and Easter because that is when we get to concentrate on and celebrate God’s love conquering sin, death and everything in between.

Sometimes it takes a whole lifetime to know that the sacrifice and resurrection of Lamb of God has opened the heavenly sanctuary to all people… even me. Sometimes you’ve known that Good News as long as you can remember. But when you do know, passing on that knowledge is as easy and natural as lighting the candle of the person next to you. You have the light and its very obvious that your neighbor needs that light too… so you pass it on.

As we move into Lent at the end of this month, and we officially begin the journey toward Holy Week, many Christians will settle on a Lenten Devotion. I would like to suggest one this year. Pick a friend or a family member who has not yet seen the light of Christ and see if you can light a spark. Maybe the flame that you have tried to pass on won’t be visible for many years, but I believe when any one of us speaks about what we know to be true, someone is listening and at some point the story that has been told will be told in a new voice to a new person who hasn’t yet heard it.

What a difference every pledge makes!

My wife, Nicole, was laid off in early November from her job at Redbook magazine. With another baby on the way (due in May!) and our two-year-old son, Liam, rapidly outgrowing all of his clothes, the loss of her salary has been difficult to deal with, but we are doing our best to budget and prioritize. The difficulty of finding a new job in this economic climate is increased due to the fact that she is five months pregnant – it’s difficult to hire someone who is going to take a significant amount of time off in just a few months time. For the time being she is collecting unemployment and seeking freelance work.

Because of the uncertainty, it took a little longer than usual to figure out exactly what our pledge to Saint Mary’s for 2009 would be. When we arrived at Saint Mary’s we made the leap of faith it takes to tithe: 10% flat off the top of our combined salaries. This year the number went down with the loss of over half our income, but the percentage went up a little bit: I did my best to figure out what her unemployment and some potential freelance money will be and added 10% of that to the tithe from my salary. Ideally, she’ll make lots of money, and we’ll have to increase our pledge, but the opposite could also happen. We shall see … and hope and pray too.

I felt bad that we held up our pledge because I knew that the pledge goal set by the Board of Trustees was that much further from being met. I know what is at stake if we don’t make the pledge goal. We have already felt the cuts in staff and program that were necessary to keep the church doing what it does. Those looming next steps will be even more drastic, and I worry that the church might no longer be open every day of the year or that the doors might open a few hours later or shut a few hours earlier each day: first the hours are trimmed, then the church doesn’t open on holidays and Saturdays… it’s a slippery slope, and one I don’t think Saint Mary’s wants to, or can afford to, go down.

By remaining open, we are able to bring people together in ways they would never have imagined. I wonder how many people have become part of life at Saint Mary’s because the doors were open that first time they walked past the church? How many people decided that this was where their heart was after experiencing the visible and audible beauty of a feast day or Sunday Solemn Mass? How many people found our Lord while attending a simple celebration of the Eucharist at a random lunch hour? How many people were inspired for the first time to let their lives reflect the love of God, so obvious in this place so often, by giving time, talent, and money to support the mission and outreach of the church? How many met other people here, in this place, who felt exactly the same zeal for the beautiful news of the resurrection of Jesus Christ?

I know where my pledge goes. Some of it goes to the Diocese to support mission and evangelism, as well as the infrastructure and leadership needed to offer such outreach. Some of it goes to any number of programs for education, mission, and outreach offered by the parish. I think that’s great, but I’m happiest where the bulk of my pledge goes. Most of it goes directly to keeping this building open and staffed. My pledge makes a difference in the lives of innumerable people because it means that Saint Mary’s will be able to continue to be a place that brings people together and inspires them to do things they would not ever have otherwise done.

The economy has not recovered, and to be perfectly frank, I don’t think anyone really expects things to improve in the near future. So be it. Time for me to cut out the steaks, the shows, and the CDs and concentrate on those things that I know make a huge difference in my life and the lives of the people I love. This church makes a huge difference in my life. It’s where my son was baptized and, God willing, where my next child will be baptized. It’s where I have been inspired by other people to say and do things I never would have thought I could say or that I was able to do. It’s a place and community that I will do whatever it takes to support. I am convinced that anyone reading the Angelus weekly newsletter feels the same way I do.

If you haven’t yet pledged because you aren’t sure how much you can give or you aren’t sure if you can give anything at all, please consider that your pledge, whatever it is, will certainly help to ensure that Saint Mary’s will have the same effect on others that it had on you. If you intend to give and support the parish in ways other than a pledge, please know that every gift is greatly appreciated and always needed, but also know that it is only through pledges that we can ensure Saint Mary’s actually remains a place where those gifts can be put to good use. The budget ensures that the building is open and staffed. The budget is supported by pledges. We are about $80,000 or 16% short of our pledge goal for 2009. We’re almost there, but we’re not there yet.

Sermon for Baptism of Our Lord, 2009

When there is a Baptism, the church grows. For that reason, and also because I think Baptisms here are wonderful, I’m sorry that we don’t have a Baptism today.

This Sunday is one of the four major feasts during the church year when Baptisms are often celebrated. It’s a logical day to do that.

Today we hear how Jesus himself was Baptized by John with water and filled with the power of the Holy Spirit and publicly called the Son of God by a voice from heaven. Someone who is Baptized is simply following in Jesus footsteps, baptized in water, filled with the power of the Holy Spirit and marked forever as one of God’s children. Of course one of us being Baptized into the Body of Christ is a bit different from Jesus submitting to John’s Baptism - that is a sermon for another day - but I think the parallel imagery is quite clear.


When you Baptize someone, you baptize the person by name. “Matthew. I Baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” It’s a powerful statement.

You might be familiar with the tradition of changing your name or adding a new name at Baptism. In a similar vein, sometimes people choose names at Confirmation. I remember when I was confirmed we were all supposed to chose a name. I chose Matthew. I was happy with the name I already had.

The tradition of changing you name at Baptism goes back at least to the fourth century Acts of Saint Balsamus who is quoted saying: “I am called Balsamus, but by the spiritual name which I received in Baptism, I am known as Peter.”

Obviously there are a number of people renamed in Scripture: Simon called Peter by Jesus; Saul renamed Paul. Its not just a New Testament thing: Abram and Sarai renamed Abraham and Sarah by God.


The two most common reasons people are often asked to choose Baptismal names is because they have names that are obviously not Christian names or because they have names that are difficult to pronounce.

I’ve heard stories of priests who when doing Baptisms say: “name this child”. When the child’s name is given and the priest doesn’t recognize it, the priest just inserts Mary or Peter or John instead. My great grandfather was named Hazzard Hoxsie. Can you imagine what might have happened at his Baptism? “Name this child” “Hazzard” “Hazzard?” “Did you say Peter?” “Peter, I baptize you…”

How important is a name? Some Christians obviously think its important enough to change it to something more Christian.

That’s not the only was a name can seem important.

I was recently at a church and spoke to one of the parish leaders about the best way to grow a church. “Names.” He said. “You have to get to know everyone’s name.”

It sounded good at first – the place where everyone knows you name. But the more I thought about it, the more turned off I was by the idea that a church was the place where everybody knows you name. The TV show Cheers featured a bar where everyone knew everyone else’s name, and every episode featured the same cast of worn out characters and a few visitors who never came back. Sometimes new people do stay, but usually the simply replace someone leaving the show.

The place never changed, it never grew, its just remained the place where, if you were a regular, then everybody knew your name.


I meet people every day at Saint Mary’s. Its not that I don’t know their names – usually I don’t. Often I can’t even pronounce their names. Times Square is one of the crossroads of the world, we have people visiting from New Jersey, New Mexico, New Zealand, and Papua New Guinea. I met a guy named Blaze last week. “Blaze, that’s a neat name.” “Oh, its not my real name. I’m from the Ivory Coast, you can’t pronounce my name.” “Well, what is it?” After he told me his name, I said: “Wow. So how long have you been in New York, Blaze?”

If there were a Baptism today here, this church would certainly grow, regardless of whether or not the person chose or was given a new Baptismal name. We would add a member to our roles and someone who was not a Christian yesterday would be one today. That person would be recognized first and foremost as a child of God: “Thou art my beloved son.” “Thou art my beloved daughter.” It would have been so awesome, and nobody would care if the person being Baptized was named Blaze or Peter.

Just because there isn’t a Baptism today doesn’t mean that the church won’t grow.

If you are visiting today, please come up and introduce yourself to me or to one of our greeters.

I don’t know your name, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want you to know that you are welcome in this house of worship as if you’d been here your whole life. You may not know me at all and you might not see me again for a long time, but you are my sister in Christ. You are my brother in Christ.

Likewise if you are a regular here, I think today is a great day to make an effort to introduce yourself to someone whose name you don’t know. Someone visiting or maybe someone you’ve seen but never gotten around to saying hello to.

This isn’t a place where everyone knows your name, and that’s because it’s a place that is actively welcoming in new people and growing.

This isn’t a place where we make you change your name so that you fit in better.

This is a place where everyone is welcome and God willing where everyone is treated as a brother or sister, a beloved in Christ.

A Baptism is an amazing this, but so is discovering a new brother or sister in Christ.

Through the rhythms of times and seaons

This past Tuesday evening the parish community celebrated the Epiphany with a Solemn Mass. The feast marks a wonderful conclusion to Christmastide while also offering a glorious reminder of the riches of the upcoming liturgical year – the solemn singing of The Proclamation of the Date of Easter at the conclusion of the Solemn Mass. Because our assisting deacon, Jedediah Fox, was swamped with Canonicals (exit exams required of all Seminary Seniors that for some odd reason are always scheduled at Epiphany), I had the pleasure of singing the Proclamation this year.

The Proclamation announces not only the date of Easter, but of all the other feasts of the year that are movable. Still, it is evident that the great Paschal Mystery celebrated in the Easter Triduum is at the heart of all we as Christians do. Its tone is similar, but not identical, to that of the Exultet, sung at the Easter Vigil, and it explains that the feasts of the year find their reference point at Easter. It is a remnant from a time when knowing when the annual dates for Ash Wednesday, Easter, Ascension Day, Pentecost and the first Sunday of Advent were not “a click away”. I have always enjoyed it for the simple fact that I know in advance when things are happening. It’s all well and good to be able to look ahead on the calendar… it’s another thing to hear these very important things proclaimed. With that in mind, it seems like a good time to announce a few things that are happening during the next three months while Father Gerth is away on sabbatical.

This Sunday, January 11, the parish is doing something that I don’t think it has ever done. At 10:40 AM, in Saint Joseph’s Chapel at the Christmas Crèche, the Saint Mary’s Sunday School will celebrate an Epiphany Pageant. All are invited to sing “We Three Kings” and watch the children offer gifts at the Crèche. I hope you will join us; the pageant will take less than ten minutes and should be lots of fun.

On Sunday and Monday, February 1 and 2, the parish will celebrate several events. The first will be the Eve of the Presentation (Candlemas) with Solemn Evensong & Benediction. Our preacher will be the Reverend Ian Montgomery, who is assisting while the rector is away. The second event takes place immediately after Evensong: Saint Mary’s Superbowl Party IV. As usual, Father Mead’s Abusive Chili will be on the menu. The next day Candlemas will be celebrated with the Blessing of Candles, Procession and Solemn Mass at 6:00 PM, followed by a splendid reception – Father Mead’s Abusive Chili will not be served at the reception.
February and March bring some notable visitors to Saint Mary’s. On Sunday, February 15, the choir from Guildford Cathedral in England will sing at Solemn Evensong & Benediction. The Very Reverend Victor Stock, Dean of Guildford Cathedral, will preach at the service. It will be a wonderful night!

The next Sunday, February 22, the Right Reverend Dr. C. Franklin Brookhart, Jr., Bishop of Montana, will be with us as celebrant and preacher at Solemn Mass. Bishop Brookhart is Deacon Jedediah Fox’s bishop and the ninth bishop of Montana. It is a great honor to have Bishop Brookhart with us on the last Sunday after Epiphany.

On the First Sunday in Lent, March 1, the Right Reverend Andrew St. John, rector of the Church of the Transfiguration (the “Little Church around the Corner”) in Manhattan, will preach at Solemn Evensong & Benediction. Bishop St. John is a great friend of Saint Mary’s, and we are glad to have him with us again this Lent.

The Reverend E. Clare Nesmith will preach the following Sunday, March 8, at Evensong & Benediction. Mother Nesmith served as Seminarian at Saint Mary’s several years ago and now serves as the Bishop’s Deputy for Episcopal Charities in Long Island.

On Wednesday, March 25, the Annunciation will be celebrated with Solemn Mass. That evening we welcome the Reverend L. Kathleen Liles as our preacher. Mother Liles is rector of Christ & Saint Stephen’s Church, New York, New York. It should be another great festival and a nice break during Lent.

Each Sunday in Lent, the Reverend Peter Powell will offer a class on the Psalms. Father Powell is a great friend of Saint Mary’s and he has taught classes for us the last few years. We are grateful for his assistance and expertise in teaching the Bible; and we are always very happy when he and his wife, Barbara, are with us on Sundays.

Knowing what’s coming up is only the first step… don’t forget to mark your own calendars so that you won’t miss a single one of these great events!

Sermon for Christmas 2, 2009

On January 2nd at 3:30 in the morning the burglar alarm in the church went off. Unfortunately for the curates and their families, the alarm sound right outside of our apartments. Its like the end of the world. Being woken up isn’t the worst part, its knowing that you are the one who has to go down and deal with the problem. Its an adventure going into the church in the middle of the night, armed with my pajamas and a pair of slippers. When I turned the lights on I saw a man standing in the middle of the church. When he saw me, he waved to me.

It was like something out of a movie when an airplane flies over a deserted island and the pilot sees an unexpected castaway waving up in desperation.

I could only think of one thing to say: “Why are you in here?”

“I’m locked in. I fell asleep on the bench and when I woke up I tried to get out and I was locked in. Can you let me out?”

“I’ll let you out. Come with me.”

As I was letting him out he asked one last question: “Does this happen a lot?”

“No. This does not happen very often” Then I opened the door and let him out.

“Happy new year!” he said.

More than a bit surprised, I replied “Happy New Year!” And then he disappeared into the night.

In the four and a half years that I’ve lived here, the burglar alarm has gone off dozens of times in the middle of the night. There are motion sensors all over the church so it could be a person just as easily as it could be a lost pigeon or a gust of wind blowing on the outside doors. Usually its nothing, just a loud alarm waking me up in the middle of the night… but you never know.


I used to bring a baseball bat down with me in case someone was actually in the church. I stopped doing that because I’m not sure if coming down armed and dangerous would help or hinder getting someone outside as quickly and painlessly as possible.

Life is full of surprises. In my experience most people are prepared for very few of those surprises. “Does this happen often?” “No. This doesn’t happen very often.”

You don’t have to live inside a church in Times Square to encounter an unexpected surprise. Is getting up in the middle of the night to let someone out of the church any more shocking than losing your job? Is it any more shocking than the sudden and unexpected death of a family member or a friend.

You might wonder how someone can fall asleep in the church and not be woken up and ushered out before the building closes for the night? I too wondered that as I reset the alarm and struggled to get back to sleep.

A few hours before the church opened on New Year’s Day the father-in-law of the sexton who was to be on duty died very suddenly and unexpectedly of a brain aneurism. He was at the hospital with his family, that’s why he didn’t make it to work. We were scrambling all day to fill in for him and when the church closed, it closed with someone still inside, asleep under a pew. It doesn’t happen very often. But it happened that day.

Which situation is more shocking or sudden? What I went through in the first hours of January 2nd or what our sexton went through twenty four hours earlier? Happy New Year, indeed.

Today’s Gospel passage rips us out of the pleasant Crèche and angel scenes that so many people associate with Christmas and casts Jesus, Joseph and Mary suddenly into a very hard and difficult place, full of unpleasant and unexpected surprises that nobody is ever prepared for.

This place is commonly referred to as the real world. It’s a place where phrases like “happy new year” or “happy birthday” carry as much worry and uncertainty of what is to come as they do joy over things that have been and things that might be.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph lived in the real world and so do all of us. They fled to a foreign land in the face of insane persecution only to find out when they returned that they were no longer welcome in their own home.

It’s a storyline that continues to develop throughout Jesus’ ministry and life. It’s a story that only has a happy ending because the love of God overcomes everything, including fear, including death.

The story of Jesus is the story of God recreating the real world into the new Jerusalem.


For me, it means a great deal to be able to call my self a Christian at all times.

I give thanks to God for the good days, the good moments, and the many blessings that each day brings. I put my trust in the love of God, in this world and the next, whenever I encounter an unexpected and difficult situation.

When I let a man out of the church in the dead of the night, I pray that he won’t decide to stab me on the way out. I pray that he will be an unexpected friend and not an unexpected enemy. When I hear that a someone is suffering from a recent loss, I pray that God will reveal his eternal love to those who mourn and to those who have died. I pray that what God has revealed to me will also be revealed to them.

The Second Sunday after Christmas is often called the Feast of the Holy Family. I think its very important that the Holy Family stuck together. Its very hard to go through anything alone.

Sometimes being alone can be downright scary – I know I was scarred when I was here the other night.

But it turned out that I wasn’t alone. The man wished me happy new year because on some very deep level all of us are children of God and brothers and sisters in Christ and that should and sometimes does make us unexpected friends.

Would he have done that if I had come down with a baseball bat? Would he have done that if my first instinct was to react to fear with aggression and anger? I don’t know, but I don’t think so.

My new year’s resolution is to pray that I may be there when someone needs me. To pray that I will respond to the unexpected with courage and also with love. To pray that I will be able to call on God in those times when I am in distress and be comforted by one of you – one of my brothers or sisters in Christ – whether I know you or whether you are a stranger to me.

It’s a good new year’s resolution, I think, and its one I offer to you as well.

May God bless you and show his face to all of you and may you have happy and blessed New Year.