Sermon: Great Service

Mark 10:35-45

There is an old story of a man who is driving home from work when suddenly, his car is struck by lightning. As one would imagine, the man was quite shaken by this. The fire department and paramedics came and checked him out, and he was fine. Remarkably, the car was also fine, and he was able to drive home. Upon arriving at his home, he told his teenaged son all about what had happened. His son replied, “dad, we should go buy a lottery ticket. They say the chances of being struck by lightening are the same as winning the lottery.”

In today’s Gospel from Mark, we find a similarly self-absorbed James and John, the sons of Zebedee, when they come to Jesus and say: “Teacher,” they said, “we want you to do for us whatever we ask.” “What do you want me to do for you?” he asked. They replied, “Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory.”

This request of the brothers comes right after Jesus teaches them, for the third time, about his coming passion and death. It is almost as if they were not listening at all. But this encounter is yet another in a line of Jesus teaching about the closeness of the kingdom of God and his Apostles not understanding what he is trying to say.

Jesus has given them a new understanding of marriage and divorce, yet they do not understand. He taught them about the priorities in the Kingdom of God with the story of a man with many possessions, yet they did not grasp that meaning. And now we have the brothers coming and asking for this “favor.”

Scripture tells of Jesus going off on his own to pray, especially after a particularly trying period of his ministry. I think he went away, shaking his head to ask God if this is the crew he is supposed to be hanging with.

The gospel does not give us any insight into why the brothers come and ask Jesus for this favor, and it does not matter. It is all rather comical and somewhat insensitive. But what of the others? Scripture tells us they heard the request, and they became indignant at the brothers for asking. Jesus has just predicted his won death, and they are like yeah, that’s bad and all, but can you get us good seats?

This encounter between the brothers and Jesus appears in Matthew and Luke. Matthew seems a little uncomfortable with the brazenness of the brother, so Matthew has the mother of James and John ask Jesus for the good seats, and Luke does not name the brothers but writes that a dispute has arisen amongst the twelve over who would be the greatest.

We will truly never know of the discomfort of the Gospel writers with this story. We can either feel a sense of the comic and laugh or feel a sense of embarrassment for the brothers at their request. Part of our feelings about this story might come from the fact that, in some ways, we are all sons of Zebedee.

Of course, none of us would ever make outlandish, insensitive requests like the brothers have, but we do want the best seats in the house. We may not be as upfront about our desire, but many spend their entire lives looking for those privileged positions that put them ahead of others. We want the job with the fancy title, the flashy car, the big house. We want a lot of things that we may never admit out loud.

So, are we really any different than the brothers? We might not make the brazen request, but we covet the best seats and the top position in our hearts. This is all part of the human condition, and as such, we try and explain it away. Theologically we might look at Genesis 3 and blame it all on the fall of humanity. An attempt can be made psychologically to justify our behavior with Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs or Erickson’s stages of development. If we really want to mess things up, we can site anything by Freud.

However, only when we face our own tendencies to be a son or daughter of Zebedee can we come to terms with our humanity and live the new life of discipleship.

Part of our Communion service is a confession and an absolution or a reminder of how we are all forgiven through Jesus. No one likes to recall the times when they have missed the mark, but confession is vital in our spiritual life and our psychological life. None of us are perfect, and we are all in need of God’s grace. But we fool ourselves when we think we have nothing to confess. If the act of confession makes us uncomfortable, great, that is precisely what it is supposed to do.

The great German Theologian and martyr Detrick Bonhoeffer spoke about what he called Cheap Grace. For Bonhoeffer, cheap grace is “the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline. Communion without confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.”

In contrast to cheap grace, Bonhoeffer spoke of costly grace, “costly grace confronts us as a gracious call to follow Jesus, it comes as a word of forgiveness to the broken spirit and the contrite heart. It is costly because it compels a man to submit to the yoke of Christ and follow him; it is grace because Jesus says: ‘My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.'”

Part of being a disciple is being a servant to others. Transformation happens through being a servant. When the man with all of the stuff that we heard about last week asks about eternal life, Jesus says, “follow me.” Being a follower of Jesus is a life of servanthood that transforms us unto eternal life.

When John appeals to Jesus to ask him to stop the man from casting out demons in the name of Jesus, he responds by telling him not to stop the man. Following Jesus, even in ways that might seem odd to us, can lead to wholeness. Servanthood is a means to grace.

St. Frances was commemorated a few weeks ago, and today his words seem a fitting way to bring this to a close.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not seek so much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love, for it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Sermon: What Must I Do?

Mark 10:17-31

It has been said that every journey begins with that first step. Very often, that step is a step into the unknown. But, it is a step into the future. Each time we decide to make a change or try something new, we take that step into the future. I believe that this last year and a half has taught us in the Church that each day can be a step into the unknown future, but we still have to take that step.

Today’s Gospel places us into a story of first steps.

A man comes to see Jesus. He is first identified as “a man,” but later on in the story, we find out he is wealthy. Luke calls him a “ruler,” and Matthew refers to him being “young.” In Christian tradition, he is often called “the rich young ruler.” But for Mark, he is just a man.

This man has “great possessions,” although we are not quite sure what those possessions are. But he comes to Jesus and asks what he must do to inherit “eternal life.” Jesus, as he often does in these situations, reframes the question from the future to the present. The answer that Jesus provides is not what he has to do to make sure he gets a seat in heaven; Jesus tells him that he must go, get rid of his stuff, and then follow him.

As Jesus often does, he shifts the focus of the question in terms of this idea that the Kingdom of God is not on some far-off cloud in the sky but rather, the Kingdom of God is right here, in the present and that this Kingdom of God is going to require a different set of rules and different behavior.

The disciples have been a witness to a very painful moment for this man. Jesus tells him that although he has followed the law, he still lacks one thing. Jesus says he must go and sell all that he has, give the money to the poor, and then he will be able to follow. Scripture tells us he goes away sorrowful for he had many possessions. Some translations use the word grieving rather than sorrowful, which is a better word choice.

One of the things that I find troubling is the lack of awareness that grief comes with any loss. Most of society believes that grief comes only with the death of one that we love, a human that we love. But this is not the case. Greif comes with any loss, be it human, pet, job, position, Church, friend, mobility, the Patriots losing….. Any loss can cause grief.

This man went away grieving, and tradition assumes he went away grieving because he had so much that he was unwilling to part with all he had. But what if there was another reason for his grief? What if he went away grieving because he had decided to sell all that he had and follow Jesus? This bold action would come with some level of emotion. This would have been a decisive step into the future that would result in the emotional letting go of all that he had and all of the relationships that come with that possession.

Letting go is difficult. I may have mentioned this before, but one of the hardest things I have had to do is clean out my parent’s house after my father died. My brothers and I had the duty of clearing out 65 years of possessions. Things that my parents had collected all during their lives. Each item held memories for me. This was the only home I had ever really lived in, and now it was gone.

It took weeks to decide what to throw away, what to donate, what to keep, and what to sell. Some items, more than others, cause immense pain in making those decisions. But in the end, we did it, and I walked out of that house for the last time. I had never seen that house empty before, and it was very different. The stuff of life holds remembrances for us, and they are difficult to part with.

One of my all-time favorite movies is the 1959 Fred Zinnerman classic the Nun Story starring Miss Audrey Hepburn. Hepburn is living in prewar Belgium and has a desire to become a nursing sister in the Congo. She has spent her entire life preparing and training for this moment. But, as part of her entrance into the religious order, she is joining, she must rid herself of all of her earthly possessions and, we find out later her memories.

At one point, a basket is passed. The nuns-to-be are supposed to place all of the items they may have left of their previous life in the basket. But, when it comes around to Hepburn, she pauses. She has a small gold pen that her father had given her, her last possessions, and her memories. She does not put it in the basket; she keeps it. Her grief at the thought of putting that pen in the basket is more than she can handle. So, it passes her by.

In the end, she leaves the convent. She finds that her memories and her pride keep getting in the way of her being able to be a good nun, as well as a good nurse.

We do not know what happens to the man from the Gospel story because we never hear of him again. All we know is he went away sorrowful and grieving because of the decision he would have to make.

Now, this story is not an indictment of rich people, far from it. Yes, Jesus says it will be harder for the rich to enter the kingdom of God, but again, Jesus does not have disdain for the rich. It’s not what we have the prevents us from truly following Jesus; it’s what we do with it. Are we maximizing our potential? Are we using all of our gifts to help others?

Each of us has been given gifts from God that we are to use in the Kingdom of God, which is not on some far-off cloud but right here in Hull, and Hingham, and Weymouth, and wherever else we might find ourselves. Part of our spiritual journey is identifying those gifts and using them to their fullest potential.

Holding back keeps us from being a follower of Jesus Christ but learning to let go and learning to share takes time, and it takes practice. But it all begins with that first step.

Amen.

Sermon: Do This

1 Corinthians 11:23-25
Luke 22:18-20
Mark 14:22-25

One of the positive things to have come out of this pandemic is the ability to participate in worship with people from all around the world. On any given Sunday, at almost any time of the day, there is a live worship service streamed on the internet. If you cannot watch it live, do not worry; you can watch it recorded.

I have participated in worship in small rural churches in Scotland and large cathedrals in Washington, DC. Although the words and the style of worship might be different, there is a connectedness that one feels. These worship services are a reminder that the Church is alive and well and that Christians continue to gather in small groups and large.

Today is World Communion Sunday. This is the day we remind ourselves of this connectedness that we have with the rest of the Christian world. It is easy to think that we are the only ones doing this, but people are gathering to worship right now, people have already gathered for worship, and people will continue to gather for worship. And as I said, the words may be different, and we may believe differently, but we are connected.

World Communion Sunday always seems like a good time to remind ourselves just what we do when we gather on the Sundays when the Sacrament of Communion is served, but we have already done that in my first few weeks here. So today, I want us to shift the focus from the table to what Jesus tells us to do.

“And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.”

In the same way, after the supper, he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you” (Luke 19—20)

These words from Luke, along with the words from Mark and 1st Corinthians, are called the “words of institution.” These are the words said during the Service of Communion and spoken by Jesus during the Last Supper.

There have been volumes written about what it all means. Is it or is it not the actual body of Christ? Do the bread and wine transform into something else? Is it transubstantiation or consubstantiation? Is it simply a reenactment of an event that took place more than 2,000 years ago, or is it something more? These are all excellent questions that deserve exploration, but not today.

Today, my focus is on the words, “do this.” Jesus takes bread and says, “do this.” Jesus takes the cup and says, “do this.” What is the do this? Is Jesus asking us to “do this” as in do what I am doing here?  Yes, I believe so. But there is more that is being asked of us here with the words, “do this.”

We have spent the last few weeks talking a long, slow walk through the Letter of James. This was a troubling letter to many of reformers like Martin Luther. Remember, Luther believed that we were saved by faith alone. This belief was to counter the idea that we could earn our way into heaven by works that we performed or, even more profane, that we could buy our way in.

Luther and the others of his day wanted the Church to be reformed back to its simpler, more spiritual times, but the leadership of the Church did not see it that way. Luther, like John Wesley, had a very strong attachment and affinity for the Sacrament of Communion. Wesley taught his followers that they should partake in the Sacrament as often as it was offered, daily if possible. The belief is that this Sacrament is spiritual food to help us along the journey. And the journey is the “do this.”

The night before he is to die, Jesus has gathered his friends with him one last time. They have a meal together. They share some laughs. They probably talk about all that has gone on these last three years. Then the mood turns serious. Jesus takes some bread. He holds it in his sacred hands. He lifts it and asks God to bless it. He shows this bread to those at the table and tells them it is his body that is broken and shared for them and many. They are to do this in remembrance.

Then he takes the cup. He fills it with wine. He holds it up to heaven and asks God to bless it. He shows it to his friends and tells them that this is his blood, the blood of the new covenant, that will be shed for them and for many. They are to do this in remembrance.

In this simple offering of bread and wine, Jesus summarizes all that he has done and all that he has taught these last three years. We are if we are going to be followers of his to be a living sacrifice. We are to care for the poor, the hungry, the naked, the sick, the unemployed, the underemployed, those on the margins, those in prisons, those fleeing all sorts of unimaginable horrors. We are to care for and love everyone, without exception.

This “New Covenant” he mentions takes away the need for sacrifice as an atonement for our sins and shifts the focus from us to others. We are to do this, what Jesus has done share our lives with the world to make things better for others. The focus needs to shift from the “I” to the “We” as the covenant shifts in the same direction.

Jesus tells us, in his own words, that he is the fulfillment of all of the law and the prophets. Jesus gives us a new commandment to love God and love each other, and by this, others will know we follow him. The “Do this” Jesus was talking about is the Sacrament of Communion, but that Sacrament is worthless if the “do this” does not also mean the love of all.

In a few moments, we will gather around this table. I will say these words and ask the Holy Spirit to come upon us and upon the bread and cup set before us. I will pray that they and we become sanctified and holy so that we may continue this holy work that we have been called to.

“Do this,” all of it in remembrance of what Jesus taught and what Jesus did.

Amen

Sermon: Power of Prayer

James 5:13-20

On the Liturgical Calendar of the Orthodox Christian Church, today, September 26th is commemorated as the day that the Apostle and Evangelist John Died. John was the youngest of the Apostles and is the author of the Gospel that bears his name and three pastoral letters and the Book of Revelation.

From Church tradition, we know that John is the son of Salome the Myrrh bearer and Zebedee, a fisherman. He is also the brother of the Apostle James, who is believed to have written the letter that we heard the passage from today.

In his famous painting of the Last Supper, Leonardo Da Vinci painted John leaning on Jesus with his ear pressed against Jesus’ chest. Thus, John was listening to the heartbeat of Jesus, and as such, in our Trinitarian theology, John was listening to the very heartbeat of God.

The ancients, including our Christian forbearers, believed that the human heart is the very center of our being, our soul, if you will. The heart contains the very essence of who we are, and when the heart ceases to function, we cease. Thus, as John lay there, with his ear pressed against the chest of Jesus, he was listening to the very heart of creation.

Today’s scripture passage from the Letter of James is calling us, each of us, to a position of prayer in our daily lives. The passage begins with a series of questions. Are you in trouble? Are you happy? Are you sick? If you are any or all of these, pray. For some, James suggests calling the elders to come, and they will anoint you with oil and pray for you, and other times we are told to confess to one another, pray for one another, and we shall be healed.

But our prayers need to be more than a laundry list of things we need and people for whom we wish to pray. The intention of our prayer should be a conversation, and for conversation to happen, there needs to be a sender and a receiver. We are the sender, and God is the receiver. But prayer, like a conversation, flows in both directions; otherwise, it is not a conversation; it is a lecture. So for our prayer to be a conversation, there needs to be time to listen.

I had mentioned before that I spent some time as a community member just up the road at Glastonbury Abbey. The monk’s day is divided into equal parts of prayer and work and work and prayer what St. Benedict calls the Ora et Labora. The life of the monk is guided and regulated by the rule that St. Benedict wrote. The very first word of that rule is “listen.” Benedict teaches those who follow his rule that listening is an essential aspect of our spiritual life.

You might think I am crazy when I say that we will hear God’s voice if we listen, but it is true. The hearing God’s voice bit is true, and maybe a little of the crazy is true as well. However, if you are waiting for God’s voice to be as clear as it was to Charlton Heston in the 10 Commandments, you might be waiting a while.

God’s voice comes to us in many ways, from another person, through the Word of God, in worship, in song, in creation. For us to hear, we must be open to the voice, and we have to be listening for it.

The Celts believed that the voice of God is present in all of creation. We can hear the voice of God in the wind blowing through the leaves of a tree. The voice of God is present in the waves crashing on the rocks of the shore. The same God that created humanity created the tree and the flower and, I believe, placed a bit of that Divine Spark in that part of creation. When we look at another human being, we are to see the face of God, But I believe that when we look at any part of God’s creation, we are to see that same face.

When we gather as a community, we are gathering in prayer, and it does not matter what the occasion of that gathering is. Scripture tells us that whenever two or three are gathered, the creator is present. When we gather for worship, we invite God into our midst. Each aspect of worship, from greeting people when we first arrive to gathering in the circle at the close of our worship, is prayer.

But, when we gather for committee meetings, the same is or should be true. We welcome the presence of God into our gathering. We ask God to bless our time together and guide us as we meet. At the close, we thank God for being present and ask that God continue to guide us after we depart. Each time we gather, we gather first for prayer.

Developing a practice of prayer does not happen overnight; it takes time, and it takes practice. Prayer comes in many forms; there is corporate prayer that we are engaged in now. There is prayer using prayers that we perhaps learned as children and bring us comfort. There is meditation, sitting in the presence, and possibly using a mantra. All of these take time to develop, and the more we practice, the easier it becomes. Finding what works for you is the first step in the development of a healthy prayer life.

But there is what I consider the perfect prayer; this is the prayer that Jesus taught us. In the 13th Chapter of the Gospel of Luke, Jesus’ disciples ask Jesus to teach them how to pray and what follows we now call the Lord’s Prayer. We use this as part of each worship service, although I was told I left it last week.

The prayer Jesus taught is less about the words than it is about the process of prayer. The prayer is directed to God and begins with praise and then petition. We give thanks for what God has done for us in the past, ask God to continue to bless us, ask God to be present in our lives and the lives of others, and end the way we began with praise.

I mention this as a way of getting us started on our prayer life. We can begin by saying the Lord’s prayer once and maybe twice a day. Begin by saying the prayer upon rising, and then again, just before we go to sleep this way, we begin and end each day in a spirit of prayer. Every journey starts with that first step, and this could be that step.

As John lay there, leaning against Jesus with his ear pressed to his chest, John felt the warmth from Jesus. John’s head rose and fell with each breath that Jesus took in and out. John heard and felt the heartbeat of Jesus for those moments he was resting. Listening is an essential part of prayer and can be the most challenging.

Let us strive to pray more each day and spend some time listening for the voice of God in our lives.

Amen.

Sermon: The Root of Conflict

James 3:13-4:3, 7-8
Mark 9:30-37

September of 1984, I was a rather shy 18-year-old climbing aboard a bus to Logan Airport. Once at the airport, I would get on a plane for only the third time in my life and fly to Missouri. I admit I had no idea where Missouri was on the map, but I was going there. I had been ordered there by my Uncle Sam. Nice guy, my Uncle Sam. Promised my three hots and a cot in exchange for three years of my life. Sounded like a great deal to a young kid.

In the middle of the night, I arrived at Fort Leonardwood, so they gave us something to eat, showed us to the barracks, and bid us a good night. It seemed that my head had no sooner hit the pillow than an enormous trash can came bouncing down the aisle in the barracks. Welcome to the United States Army!

The following eight weeks were filled with constant questions: What in the name of all that is holy am I doing here? What is this on this plate that they want me to eat? Why are we running everywhere when we have a bus that we can ride on? My mind was a swirl of questions, but I asked very few. I just went with the flow.

However, others asked all sorts of questions and tried to buck the system; they did a lot of pushups. But over time, they gave in, and once they had surrendered to the process, everything started to click.

Our spiritual life is a lot like my experience in basic training. We fight it. We think we know better. But, of course, I do it better. I mean, it’s not like people have been doing this for 2,000 plus years or anything.

I want to draw attention to the last two verses we heard this morning from the Letter of James. “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” (James 4:7-8) Submit, resist, drawn near all these words are not common in our 21st-century language, but they need to be in our spiritual life.

I constantly have to remind myself that trying to live the life that Christ has called us to is counter-cultural. We have to live life not according to the rules set forth by an ever-changing and individualistic culture but by a set of rules that requires us to this of other people, their needs, their wants, their happiness before ours. And friends, this is not easy.

I am presently reading a book by former President Jimmy Carter. The book “Faith, a Journey for All” explores his faith, how he came about his faith, and how he holds on to his faith. But it is also a book about doubts and questions and how those doubts and questions increased and strengthened his faith.

At 90 something years old, Jimmy Carter still teaches an adult Sunday School class at his Church. As you might imagine, the class is very popular. He writes about teaching the class the seven deadly sins. There is no biblical mention of such a list, but they all appear in Scripture, pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, and sloth.

The list I just read is in a specific order with pride at the top of the list for pride, I believe is the chief among them all. Now, before we get too deep here, it is okay to be proud what’s not okay is when our pride places us above or in front of others. It’sIt’s fine to be proud of an accomplishment, of our children and grandchildren and all the rest. But when pride turns to “I will do whatever I can to get ahead” or “look at me” or “do you know who I am?” that is when it gets sinful.

Pride was the first sin. God told humanity not to eat from a particular tree, and humanity did just that. Humanity felt it knew better, and so in its pride, humanity disobeyed God.

We also hear in the Letter from James, the use of the word “devil.” James writes, “resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” Now I do not want to make light of this, but James is writing about temptation here and not the guy in the red suit with the pitchfork.

Temptations are all around us, and some are hard to resist; back to the story in the garden. Humanity was tempted to eat what God specifically said not to eat. Humanity gave into that temptation for whatever reason, and humanity was kicked out of the garden as punishment for giving in. But, just as an aside here, God did not wholly abandon humanity; God provided. Even though humanity disobeyed, God still provided.

Often I speak and write about the command of Jesus to love everyone without exception. I talk about God’sGod’s love for us and that there is nothing we can do to change the fact that God loves us. I speak about how the divine spark exists in each human being, which is why we must always love the other person, and for some, this is difficult to hear, and I get that.

For some, to feel good about themselves, they have to put others down. For some to feel good about themselves, they have to think less of others. To feel better about themselves, they have to want less for others while wanting more for themselves. For some, to feel better about themselves, they have to work to deny fundamental rights, and the list goes on.

But James is setting us on a different path this morning, James tells us to draw closer to God, and God will draw closer to us. But for us to draw closer, we need to remove the “I” and replace it with “we.” We need to work for the greater good of all, not just for the greater good of some. If I work to lift another, I rise with that person. I don’t need to step on them to get ahead.

Anyone who is married or in a relationship knows that love requires sacrifice. Love requires the surrendering of the individual for another. I officiate many weddings, and I like to remind people of the biblical idea that the two become one, well until you have children, then it becomes about a whole different set of rules.

There is an old hymn that was played during the Billy Graham Crusades called “I Surrender All.” The song is about the surrendering of the I and drawing closer to God in Jesus Christ.

All to Jesus I surrender
All to Him I freely give
I will ever love and trust Him
In His Presence daily live

Drawing closer to God is a daily activity that requires work, sometimes hard work. But it all begins with the surrendering of our will for that of another.

I surrender all;
I surrender all.
All to Thee, my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.

Amen.

Each Persons Grief is Unique

It was a cold morning in February that began like all the rest before. I woke about 5:30 and went to make the coffee. I scanned email, blogs, social media, and the news that took place overnight and was now ready to face the day.  After dressing, I returned downstairs, where my wife was on the phone. That phone call would change the direction of my life.

My parents were in their 80’s and living not far from my wife and me. They had the usual health problems of 80-year-olds but were in otherwise good health. Both had been in and out of hospital on various occasions over the last year or so.

The night before my mother woke in the middle of the night not feeling well. The ambulance was called, and she was transported to the hospital to be checked out. During her examination it was determined that the aneurism in her stomach was about to rupture, and she would need emergency surgery.

As the medical staff was preparing her for surgery the aneurism ruptured; and she died. It happened quickly. The phone call my wife received was my sister-in-law calling to give us the news of my mother’s death.

It is hard to gauge how a person will react to grief as everyone responds differently. In Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’ groundbreaking book, On Death and Dying, she outlined five stages of the grief process. This was the first work that outlined the grief process, showing the various stages one would move through to heal from their grief. However, each person moves through the grief process differently. The process is not straightforward and follows no logical path.

After my wife told me my mother was dead I experienced a wave of emotions. Emotions that I had never before experienced. I came close to collapsing on the floor, tears came to my eyes, and my mind went blank. There is nothing that can prepare you for that news. Intellectually I knew that one day this would happen. But when that day arrived, I did not see it coming.

But then it was as if a switch was thrown and I went into “minister mode.” Certain details needed attention.  Arrangements would have to be made. People would have to be informed. And, we had my father to take care of. My grief would come later; right now, there was work to be done.

Grief is a deeply personal experience. As I have already said, no two people experience grief in the same way. The uniqueness of the grief experience comes in part from the uniqueness of our relationship with the one we have lost.

I had a very close relationship with my mother. She was my rock and my biggest supporter. She always told me what she thought and challenged me when I made a significant life decision. I talked with her almost every day and she was usually the first one I would call when I heard news, like the news of her death.

The first stage of the Kubler-Ross method is acceptance of the death. I moved relatively quickly through this stage. My family gathered at the hospital with my father. The staff asked if we wanted to go and see her. At first, I was not sure, but I am glad that I did. Other than the tube in her mouth, she looked peaceful and at rest. The doctor came in and spoke with us. He reassured us that her death was quick and painless. We sat for some time in silence, just sitting and thinking.

I mentioned that I was in “Minister Mode.” I was busying myself with the thousands of details that had to be taken care of. This is a self-preservation mode that helped me “keep it all together.” I guess it comes from the idea that I am supposed to look at death from a professional point of view as a minister. I am the one that sits with families when they receive this news. Sometimes I am the one who helps them get started on all that has to be done. Now, it is my turn, and the switch just flipped, and I went on autopilot.

We set about making the arrangements and getting the word out. I have cousins that live all over the country, and if they were going to make arrangements to be present at the funeral, those plans would have to be made quickly. Then, there was the funeral home and all of those arrangements. We were looking through 80 years of pictures to select just the right ones and pick out what she wore in the casket. There was a lot to do, and I was happy for the distraction.

My mother’s priest was away on vacation, so I asked a priest-friend to preside at her funeral mass. I had decided that I would give the sermon/eulogy at the funeral, and I began to work on what I would say. I am not usually “preachy” at funerals. I would rather talk about the life of the person we are there to remember and leave the theology of the resurrection for another day. No one comes to a funeral to be “saved” or to hear about the resurrection. People are grieving and are looking for comfort.

Looking back on my process, I realize that putting my thoughts down on paper helped me process my feelings and grief. I am a manuscript preacher, so I write my sermons out. I don’t just read the words I have written, but the manuscript gives a road map of where I am going and keeps me on track. My words were mixed with emotion, thanksgiving for the life of my mother, and some humor. Funerals are a celebration of life, and laughter is a great way to celebrate.

In their book “Grief Work: Healing from Loss,” Fran Zamore and Ester Leutenberg write about grief as a journey that does not happen in a straight line but more like a meandering path. Like the Kubler-Ross Method, the Healing Pathway is a way to assist and make some sense out of the grief process. Although I had begun to process my grief, my real grief had not hit.

The grief journey came crashing down on me several months after my mother’s death. I am prone to depression, and I spent many a day curled up on the sofa watching Netflix. I had good days, and I had bad days. Days when the world seemed clear and days when the fog would set in. I was able to accomplish most tasks, but nothing seemed to bring me any real joy.

For many years, my family would attend an event in the mountains of New Hampshire. The New Hampshire Scottish Highland Games was an event that we looked forward to all year. We rented a condo, spent time together, and just had a good time. As that event approached, my grief started to intensify, and the night before we were supposed to leave, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

For those last several months, I had been holding back and distracting myself from the reality of my grief, but that night, the reality of my grief set in. I recalled all of the good times we had over the years and how different it would be without her this year. There was something about going back to the mountain that was a trigger event for me, and I broke down. I could not take that journey because my grief journey was not complete.

I prefer the image of the Healing Pathway or the Grief Journey, although I don’t think you ever really recover or heal from grief. There comes the point when the grief becomes less raw, and you adapt to life without the other person. My mother has been gone almost four years, but there are times when I pick up the phone to call her.

It has taken years to get to the point where I can write these words. I have good days, and I have bad days, and my journey continues.

Sermon: Taming the Tongue

James 3:1-12

Have you ever said something you wish you had not said?  Maybe it was said in anger or jest, but the other person misinterpreted what you were trying to say. Perhaps it was written in a text message or an email. Virtual communication is difficult as one cannot accurately see the other person’s body language to determine the message. Whatever happened, James warns us today to be watchful of what we say, whom we say it to, and who we say it about.

James is particularly hard on teachers; however, he does not define who teachers are. We often have an image of the teacher as the one leading the class. We have several teachers in this community. It seems like another lifetime ago now, but I was a middle school teacher. I remember that very first day of school, I had come into teaching in a very non-traditional way, so I had no actual classroom experience, but hey, how hard can it be.

I recall standing there, all those eyes looking at you, sizing you up, looking for your weak spot, ready to pounce. I cannot remember a time that I had been as nervous. It was my job to teach to mold these young minds, and if I failed, they failed. The pressure was tremendous. I quickly learned that I had to choose every word I said and remember what I said. Kids are like tape recorders; they remember everything.

James is taking his definition of teacher deeper than we might imagine at first glance. In my role as your pastor, I am also a teacher. I am Minister of Word and Sacrament. I have a teaching ministry. Standing here right now, I am teaching. I need to choose my words carefully and intentionally. Someone would say your salvation hangs on the words I say.

But what of the rest of us? Are we not teachers as well? Some have raised children, and parents are the first, and dare I say, most important teachers of their children. What if I said that all of us, who call ourselves Christians and followers of Jesus, are teachers by our actions as well as our words. This is what James is getting at here; we are all teachers.

The human tongue is a fantastic thing. It is a considered a muscle, although it is made up of eight different muscles. The human tongue has about 10,000 taste buds. The human tongue is only three inches long but has caused the most damage in history. The human tongue can bless, and the human tongue can curse.

The human tongue is a blessing when we praise God. We praise God when we remember each other in prayer, when we sing, and when we affirm each other. We bless God when we read the words of scripture. Calling our children by name, welcoming the stranger, and speaking the truth in love are other ways our tongue blesses God. The tongue is a blessing to God when used to build up the community here at church, at home, and in all your other human interactions.

But the tongue can also be used to curse. We do not always use the tongue for blessings. Sometimes we gossip, slander others, or disrespect those around us. Perhaps we are arrogant in our answers or too set in our ways, and we leave little room for discussion. Sometimes we are so busy talking about what we believe that we take little or no time to listen to another, listen not for a chance to counter but to learn.

Let me pause here for just a minute. Yes, we seem to have lost the art of listening. In my work as a Hospice Chaplain, I spend most of my day listening. In the grief work that I do, I spend my days listening to others. Active listening is an art that has to be learned and nurtured. We listen attentively for clues as to what the person is feeling. Active listening is not waiting for an opening for us to jump in with our thoughts. Sometimes I say nothing.

Although we should listen to each other, not all viewpoints are equal. One of the most ridiculous things I hear is, “well, we agree to disagree.” Sure, sometimes that works, but there are sometimes when it is impossible to agree. For example, I’m afraid I can’t agree with any viewpoint that treats another as less than. Racist, nationalistic, misogynistic, or any of the other views floating around are not valid viewpoints especially coming from one who considers themselves a Christian.

Just last week, we heard in this same book of scripture that we should treat others equally and without partiality. We are to love and care for everyone, including our enemies. So how can we call ourselves followers of the one who commanded these things while at the same time advocating laws and positions that take rights away just because we disagree? Simply put, we cannot.

Now with that said, let me offer a word of caution. Yes, we will disagree, but it is how we disagree that matters.

The first church I was in was a faction of people that wanted to start trouble. It did not matter what the issue was; if they did not like it, they caused trouble. So at the church conference, they would all sit together and vote as a block. If there was an issue that would be divisive, they were at the center of it, usually stirring the pot.  I know this is hard to imagine, but it is true.

I was asked how to deal with folks like this, the ones that thrive on conflict. My response was to charm and disarm. People like that want you to argue, they want you to get flustered, and they will wait in the tall grass until just the right moment. Unfortunately, our current political situation is not unlike this. A conversation on a topic cannot be had with some folks because it will turn into a shouting match, and no one wins.

I saw a bumper sticker not long ago that read, being told not to talk about politics and religion has led to a society that does not know how to talk about politics and religion. Charm and disarm. The argument is lost when one side starts shouting, calling the speaker names, lying, and bringing up issues outside of the main topic.

You know what, charm and disarm works. It worked with the folks in that first church and will work in almost any situation. Jesus sent his disciples out in twos into the countryside to preach. He told them to present their message, and if those there did not want to listen, wipe the dust off of their sandals and walk away. Sometimes, we have just to walk away.

We will not win every argument, but we will walk away with dignity.

What James is advocating is control, self-control. Do not get caught up in anger, for if we lose control, we say things. I will not say we say things we don’t mean because that is not true; if we say it, even in anger, we mean it. We have had the thought, and now we are putting words to that thought. Self-control is being able to discuss with someone who makes your blood boil, but we remain calm, and we use logic rather than passion.

If we dedicate our tongues to the praise of God, our actions will follow. Our tongues, which can bless and curse, can also ask for forgiveness. No one is perfect, we are going to make mistakes, but we must choose our words carefully because God has given us authority to build up the body of Christ.

Amen

Remarks at the Town of Hull 9/11 Ceremony

Good evening, I bring you the greetings of the Parishioners at St. Nicholas United Methodist Church.

It is indeed an honor to be here this evening and to have been asked to say a few words of remembrance.

It has been said that when a historic event takes place, we remember exactly where we are. The first man to walk on the moon, the assassination of JFK, the Red Sox winning the world series in 2004, and the day the world stood still, September 11, 2001.

It was a day much like today, blue sky, warm breeze, birds singing in the trees. It was my first year of seminary, and I had just finished a class at Boston College. As I walked across the campus, I remember it being relatively quiet, but I was unsure why. Hundreds of students walking to and from class and not much in the way of talking.

I got in my car to return to my dorm, and I turned on the radio. I was surprised that there was no music playing but rather a news report that reminded me of something from the war of the worlds. Time seemed to stop at that moment.

As I got to my dorm room floor, the television was on in the common area; just after I arrived, the first of the towers came down. We all watched in horror as the events of the day unfolded on live TV.

As the day drew on, it was time for us to gather for prayer in the chapel. I returned to my room to change, and as I opened my closet door, I caught a glimpse of the Army Uniform hanging there among all the other things. I had worn that uniform for years, but now it had taken on a different look.

The following days and weeks saw our country come together like it had not for years. Neighbors were helping neighbors and, in our collective grief, we found common ground. Even the politicians seemed to get along for a while.

Today is a day when we remember. We say “We Will Never Forget,” but it seems that we have forgotten the lessons of that day and the days that followed. I long for those days of cooperation, and I wish it did not take a tragedy for us to come together.

In 2004 the country singer Tim McGraw released a song called “Live Like You Were Dying.” The song is about a man who gets a diagnosis that is going to take his life. He vows that he is going to live like these are his last days. He does all of the things that he had been waiting to do. He goes skydiving, he rides a bull, and he climbs the Rocky Mountains.

But there is more than just doing things. He becomes the husband he always should have been, repairs his relationship with his father, and gives forgiveness he has denied. He is going to live his life as if today is his last day.

On the morning of September 11, 2001, thousands of people got up, dressed, kissed their families goodbye, and started their day. None of them had any idea that it was going to be their last day. What would we do differently if we knew this was it? How different would tomorrow be if it was the last day?

On my wrist, I wear a silver bracelet that bears the name of Fr. Mychal Judge. Fr. Mychal was a Franciscan Priest and the Chaplain with the New York City Fire Department. Fr. Mychal was at the Towers on September 11th and was killed while ministering to someone who had died.

I have the honor of serving as Chaplain with the Quincy Fire Department, and Fr. Mychal is the reason why. Fr. Mychal was doing what he loved to do, helping people when he was killed on that day.

Let us resolve this day to live to make a difference in our lives and the lives of others. We can bring honor to those who lost their lives that day by being the best version of ourselves, and by doing so, we will never forget.

God bless you all, God bless our First Responders, God bless our military, and God bless America.

Sermon: Making Distinctions

James 2:1-10 (11-13), 14-17
Mark 7:24-37

As you might imagine, I often get into conversations about religion. Religion is a big topic this day inside the church and outside of the church. Religion is a big topic in history, politics, and everyday life. People love to discuss religion, but not many want to drill down into the essence of what is going on.

I have mentioned before that any study of scripture or religion requires context. Sure, I can find almost any verse that suits my position, and if I cannot find a verse, I can find a translation of that verse. But, for example, there have been many questions raised this past week about when life begins and what scripture has to say about it.

The only place in the bible that I know of that even remotely discusses the topic is Genesis’s first book. When God is creating everything and calling it, good God does so by speaking it into existence. God separated the light from the darkness; God separated the water from the land; God created the creepy crawly things, etc. But when it comes to the creation of humanity, God gets his hands dirty.

“Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” The breath of life is often referred to as ruach, the very essence of God.

Let’s look at that again, “And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.” Same God, same creation, same breath, different outcome. In this translation, man becomes a living soul.

The first translation is from the New International Version, and the second is from the King James. Same verse, different meaning.

This is not a discussion of when life begins, but I use this verse as a way of showing how scripture can be manipulated to prove a certain point; in fact, I just did it. I picked two verses out of the thousands to prove my point about getting past the surface of scripture. Just as a final point on these verses, the bible is not a science book; if you want answers to science questions, talk to a scientist, not a theologian.

The Book of James is what I call practical theology. There are two types of theology, practical and theoretical, and both are important, and both feed into and off each other. James takes all the complexity of scripture and boils it down into what is essential. James writes to the universal church, not a particular church as Paul does. James, the first bishop of Jerusalem and the brother of Jesus, gives very practical advice on living our spiritual life.

Before we get to the verses we heard today; we need to back up to the final verse of the previous chapter where James lays it all on the line. “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” To put this into modern language, take care of everyone, love everyone, and do what is right.

James echoes the Sermon on the Mount in so many ways. The essence of what James writes about is that if we call ourselves Christians, if we say we follow Jesus, then we need to act like it. We cannot come here to worship today, sing songs, listen to a wonderfully inspired message, receive the “living bread come down from heaven,” and then treat others like property and not care for those on the margins on Monday. Our faith should move us to action when we see people being mistreated. Our faith should move us to fight for equality of everyone regardless of gender, skin color, or who they happen to love. Our faith should move us to compassion for those suffering here and around the world. And our faith should give us empathy and a willingness to help others. It is not enough to just sit here and worry about ourselves.

“My brothers and sisters, believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ must not show favoritism.” (v 2:1)

We must not show “favoritism.” A better word is partiality; we must treat everyone as equals. James uses the story of a rich person and a beggar coming into the assembly, the church. How will we treat them? James says we should treat them as equals because they are. To treat them any differently would be to show partiality.

The worth of another human being does not come from their material possessions or their position in life. The value of a human being comes from God at that moment that God breathes the breath of life into their nostrils. The worth of a human being comes from being created in the image and likeness of God, not from a physical point of view since God has no physical form but from a spiritual point of view. Therefore, when we look at another person, we should see Christ in that person whether we like them or not.

Throughout history, the basis of every problem has been that one person sees another person or group of people as less than they are. Treating someone as inferior or subhuman leads to things like slavery, misogyny, white supremacy, religious superiority, and all the rest. It leads to racism, sexism, classism, and all of the other “isms” in society.

If we strip away another’s humanity, it gives us a license to treat them as non-humans. Striping away the humanity of another allows us to treat them as property rather than humans, and therefore they do not have the same rights that we have. Classifying people by their actions, criminals, illegals, addicts, deviants, or whatever term you want to use allows us to feel better about how we treat them.

James would say, and I am saying that if you believe this way, you are not an authentic Christian and follower of Jesus Christ.

In the Gospel of Mark that we heard, Jesus is approached by a woman of a different background than Jesus. The “devil has taken the woman’s daughter,” and she does not know what to do with her. So she asks Jesus to heal her daughter.

Jesus responds, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” (Mark 7:27) In other words, he is telling her to go away, you are not of my people, and I cannot help you. Remember, this is Jesus saying this. The woman, being a strong advocate for her daughter, calls Jesus out for this.

“Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” (Mark 7:28) The woman rebukes Jesus, and he heals her daughter. The story is being used to illustrate the idea that we are to show no partiality. We are to help all we can, regardless of where they come from, their legal status, color, religion, or whom they chose to love. We care for them because we are them, and they are us.

In Hinduism, there is a greeting that one gives to another when they meet. Hands clasped in front of you and a slight bow of the head while saying “Namaste.” The literal translation of Namaste is “the divine in me greets the divine in you” and is a recognition of our mutual creation. Thus, there is respect and an acknowledgment of the divine in the other person that begins every encounter.

In the creation story, God creates humanity; there is no gender; there is only humanity in the beginning. God breaths the “breath of life” into all of humankind after God created that humanity from the very dust of the earth with God’s own hands. Who are we to disrespect that?

Friends, the bottom line is that Jesus commands us to love everyone without exception, including our enemies. We are to forgive 70 times 70, and we are to care for all. This is what makes us true and faithful followers of Jesus Christ.

“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

Amen

Sermon: Avoiding Anger

James 1:17-27

If I were to rank all of the books of the bible from my most favorite to least, The Book of James would be right at the top of that list. Although a short book, it is filled with many theological and practical nuggets written, so they are easily understood. However, perhaps the reason I like this book the most is it made Martin Luther very nervous.

I like Luther, and I think he started a long-overdue reformation, but I also think that reformation stripped the Church of too much. The central theme of James is that faith without works is a dead faith. Luther missed the point that for James, it was our salvation and God’s grace that compels us to those works, and if that faith does not, it is not faith at all.

Over the next several weeks, we will be taking a closer look at James and how what we read on those pages can help us transform our lives and then work towards the transformation of others. First up, the destructive power of anger.

Have you ever been so angry that you have said or done something that you later regretted? I know I have on more than one occasion. Anger, like all emotions, is irrational and sometimes can cause us to say or do foolish things.

“My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.” (19-20)

James gets right to the point, “anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.” James is concerned with how we relate to one another and the words we use in that relationship. Words reveal our motivation, intention, belief, and emotional life. I guess you could say that words are a window to our thoughts.

Our emotional life grows and matures from our earliest days and how we relate to others, but it also comes from how we relate to ourselves. Anger is an emotion that can become destructive. Anger is also an emotion that alerts us when something is wrong. There is good anger, and there is bad anger. It all comes down to what anger drives us to do.

One of the problems we face as a society is the idea of individualism. Being an individual can be a good thing, and the “rugged individualist” is, in some ways, what made our country. But individualism can be very destructive. If we only think of what is good for me, then we forget about our neighbor. We cannot “love our neighbor” if our thoughts are only on what we want. If we feel we can do whatever we want as long as it is good for me, we don’t love or care for others.

We have tremendous freedom that has been guaranteed from the time of our founding documents, well for a particular segment of the population anyway; the rest had to fight and continue to fight today for those same rights. But the other half of freedom is responsibility. So the more significant the freedom, the bigger the responsibility.

Words have power. Think of some of the greatest orators of our time. Think of speeches or sermons that you have heard over your life. Some were inspiring and moved us to action. Some allowed us to dream about the future, while others broke us down and made us feel less than. This is the power of the spoken and written word. We use words to express ourselves, to describe, to name, to blame. We use words to win arguments, console, counsel, ask someone to marry us, and make peace. But we also use words to incite, make fun of, blame, and start wars. Words have power.

It seems to me that in today’s world, we can say whatever we want, and then, if necessary, we apologize for what we said. This happens more frequently when we get angry; we tend to say things without thinking about it. Although we can apologize for what we have said, the damage may have already been done.

According to James, we cannot bring about the righteousness of God with evil or hateful speech, for that sort of speech only brings about destruction.

“Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you.” (v 21)

One of the more difficult places to “hold our tongues,” as my mother used to say, is on Social Media. There is a lot of good that can come from exchanges on those platforms, but we need to be careful. It is not always easy to determine wit or sarcasm, and sometimes, people can interpret things the wrong way. It is very easy to get caught up in something, and before we know it, we are falling into that “evil speech” that James warns about. The best rule of thumb is to never respond in person or on Social Media in anger.

Words have tremendous power, and it is better to use that power to build up the kingdom of God rather than break it down. Getting angry will happen, but what happens next can be avoided with a bit of practice.

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