Wednesday, February 25, 2009

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.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

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.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

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.

Monday, February 02, 2009

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.