Sermon for Sunday January 29, 2012 Mark 1:21-28 “Crazy”

What do you do when you’re confronted by a crazy person? You know the kind of people I’m talking about. They’re the ones who sit on a bench on East Broad Street, waiting for a bus that never comes, talking to themselves. They’re the people who act a little odd, or a lot odd, in bus stations or train stations. They’re sometimes the homeless among us, or they’re sometimes the relative whom we don’t invite to our Thanksgiving Dinner because their behavior is unpredictable and sometimes frightening.

They are different from us, and we feel that difference acutely. As a result, we tend to discount them. We think they live in some strange underworld that has nothing to do with us. We think they are the detritus of the world, worthless.

They don't contribute to society. They don't work, or pay taxes, or fix things or make things. They cannot do these things, of course, because they are crazy, or at least they seem crazy to us. We judge them, and say they are a drag on society, or probably addicts, or we are frightened of them, because their world seems entirely disconnected with our own.

And yet as Christians we understand rationally that they have value. We know that they are created by God, beloved by their creator just as we are...and yet when we encounter them, we still think of them as "less than."

In many ways, it is natural to view them that way. I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone describe the paranoid schizophrenic who lives under a bridge as someone who contributes to the world. You wouldn’t hire her to mind your children. You wouldn’t want him to draw your blood at the doctor’s office. No, for that you want someone who seems safe and rational and competent, and crazy people are, in our eyes, none of the above.

But the crazy people in the world have one skill that is rare and beautiful, one that few of us share with them.

They are the watchers. They see things, not just the top layer of things that we all can observe, but a deeper level of observation. Their observations are not always trustworthy, but sometimes they surprise us, because crazy people see things through a different lens. Their different perspective gives them the capacity to see things that we miss.

Sometimes, too, they sit still better than us, and those who sit still to observe catch things that we so-called normal people miss, whether it is a robin plucking a fat worm out of the spring earth or a policeman heading toward them to roist them out of their usual seat in the park. They see things, in the world and in humanity, sometimes so clearly that it is almost painful to them, and even to us.

I'm reminded of a man who stood next to me one bright Tuesday noon in McPherson Square in Washington DC. We were both attending a service of Street Church, a noontime Eucharist in the park for the street people and the office workers, a simple celebration of the Lord's Supper for people who were hungry for many things, not the least of whch was the sandwich and juice that would be handed out after the service. That man standing next to me was a sojourner, a wanderer from who knows where. He smelled bad and was twitchy. His clothes were worn and his backpack looked like it had seen better days.

He mumbled to himself, words I couldn't decipher. And the moment came in the service when we were to exchange the Peace, and I had no idea what I would do… I had no idea what he would do. But I took a deep breath, despite the odor that now surrounded us because he had wet his pants, and said "God's peace, my brother." I braced myself for whatever would come next, afraid that he might want to hug me.

“God’s peace, my brother.” He half-turned to me and stopped mumbling. He looked at me, waited a moment, and smiled and said "I need it. You need it too."

This strange man, possessed by some demon, whether it was drugs or alcohol or mental illness, this man who had wet his pants a few minutes before but seemed oblivious to it, this man who was mumbling to whomever...he had looked at me in a moment of strange clarity and had seen something in himself and in me. And he got in one. "I need it. I need God's peace. You need God's peace, too."

How could he have known?

I was in the midst of seminary. I had no idea where I would land, worried about money, about exams, about my thesis, my children, whether this had all been some monstrous mistake...and then a crazy man reminded me that my worries were irrelevant. I needed God's peace, and God would give it to me.

When Jesus began his ministry, he went into the synagogue to teach.There is some question whether he ever wondered about who he was and what he was doing. Yes, when he was baptized in the Jordan he heard his heavenly father's voice pronouncing a benediction on him and his mission. But perhaps he too wondered how this would all play out, or if he was doing it right, or whether he was deluded or even a tad crazy himself.

And then a truly crazy person came up to him. There was no hesitation in this man possessed by demons - he just started shouting at Jesus - or the demons within him did - naming Jesus in a way that the disciples didn't even dare - calling him the "Holy One of God."

The one person who could see who Jesus really was was not one of the disciples.It wasn't one of the religious leaders in the synagogue. It wasn't Jesus' relatives.

No, it was a crazy person, a man possessed by demons. This crazy man saw Jesus more deeply than the others did, especially the religious people. He named him as the Son of God. It was as if he had a microscope with which he could analyze Jesus’ DNA. He got it in one.

He was the forerunner of what Orthodox Christianity identifies as “holy fools,” saints who act foolishly, seemingly mad, talking in riddles, sometimes homeless, sometimes wandering around naked, but who are said to be prophets of God.

Maybe it's only the crazy ones who have the time to look deeply. Maybe their broken hearts and minds help them see what we in our arrogance and busy-ness are blind to.

Maybe the lesson of this story from Mark's gospel isn't that Jesus worked miracles and tamed demons, or that people were amazed by his words and works. Maybe the lesson is simply this: pay attention. Maybe the crazy people, the holy fools, have it right, and we have it wrong. Maybe we need to relearn how to see beyond our own circumscribed understanding of the world, and humanity, and God. Look deeply. Let yourself be holy fools. Let yourself be crazy enough to see the Son of God in unexpected ways, in unexpected people, in unexpected places, and be blessed.

Amen.

The Power of Purell

What would we do without hand sanitizer? It may just be the placebo effect, but I feel better when I've got some handy near the altar. Right now I have a bit of a stomach bug, but am still going to preside at the noon Eucharist. I will use the Purell before the lavabo and I hope I will not transmit any germs or bugs or anything.

A friend sent me a message about my Purell jones: "There are some studies to suggest that the alcohol (Purell is alcohol based) does not kill viruses like flu or whatever causes the "stomach bug." It does have an effect on meaner viruses like Hepatitis. Reason being the lower grade stuff is not encapsulated. Some of the more serious viruses are and the alcohol kills off the encapsulation. The more prevalent viruses don't have this encapsulation and fare better through the alcohol. This is all from a small study at Yale. Now, I did read about a different product called Soapopular that is used in the UK and does not use alcohol but instead uses something else and may be more effective on the typical viruses we come across."

May be true, but I'll go with what I can get domestically, namely, Purell and similar stuff.

If parishioners are hacking and coughing, I always use it after the Peace...again, I don't want to pass anything along that was passed to me.

When swine flu was around and people were nervous, we instituted the "elbow bump of peace." Some folks were even more careful, and used "the gingerly little wave of peace." We all have our little things that make us feel like we are in control of our environment and our health...whatever makes you feel safer is fine by me.

It would be awful if I caused one of my parishioners to get sick. Of course, they've passed their bugs to me on a number of occasions, but it seems like an occupational hazard. Still, I'm grateful for the Purell, even if it can't kill off everything to which I might be exposed.

Sermon for Sunday, January 15, 2012 I Cor 6:12-20 “It’s (Not) About Sex”

We preachers are always looking for ways to get our parishioners’ attention. Funny stories, references to things going on in the news, pop culture, whatever it takes to get you to listen to the message we want to share with you.

When in doubt, we’ve always got a go-to thing that guarantees you all will listen.

Sex.

Preaching about sex always makes folks in the pews sit up and take notice. So today, I’m going to talk about sex.

I know what you’re thinking.

“What is she going to say? Should we make sure none of the children can hear this? Will I be embarrassed by what she says?”

And that’s just fine. I want you to pay attention. I know you’re going to pay attention when the subject is sex.

Now, I’m not unique in this. Preachers, as I said, can always rely on this topic to ensure that their parishioners will attend to their message.

The Apostle Paul, a good preacher to be sure, actually used the word “fornication” not once but three times in this brief passage from Corinthians. It’s clear he wanted to get the attention of the faithful in Corinth. But like all things in Holy Scripture, there’s more to this than meets the eye.

So what’s going on in this R-rated passage from the epistle, and what does it mean to us today?

Let’s start with location. Corinth was one of the churches that Paul founded. But as much as he loved them, as a pastor he was frustrated by their misbehavior, and this letter has a lot to do with trying to get them back on the right path. He was in the midst of giving them guidance on how to live the Christian life, after chiding them for tolerating a man living in sin with his father’s wife. And now he jumped in to this discussion about fornication.

Fornication – that’s a word we don’t use too often these days. What does he mean by “fornication?” Paul uses the Greek work “porneia,” which can be translated as fornication, but really is not just about the way we think of fornication, which is sexual congress outside of marriage, but also talks about using prostitutes, incest, relations with animals, relations with someone who is divorced, and metaphorically, the worship of idols. So it’s all the nasty things one can do with one’s private parts.

Now to the heart of the problem. Why was this fornication business a problem with the Corinthians?

The Corinthians had been fighting among themselves about the right way to follow Christ and about interpretations of what Christ and Paul taught. Even that close to when Jesus had been alive, folks were already getting it wrong. Here’s a partial list of what they were fighting about, according to scholar Frank Crouch:

“Various factions in the congregation label others as wise or foolish, weak or strong; fight over who was the best pastor before the current one; bring lawsuits against one another; argue over sexual morality, whether it's better to be married or single, what makes a healthy marriage, what constitutes grounds for divorce, what are appropriate dietary practices; what is the correct understanding of resurrection and the afterlife; and on and on.”

Of course, we never argue about such things, do we?

So all these arguments were been going on, and what was the key misunderstanding that they arrived at?

They had heard from Paul that Christ set them free from their sins. And they, being human and wanting what they want when they want it, thought, “Wow! I can do anything, misbehave in any way, because Christ has set me free from my sins.”

In other words, no accountability, since they were already forgiven.

So some of the Corinthians were getting all wild and crazy and doing things that they know were sinful, but they thought they’d get a free ride.

But Pastor Paul said, “Hey, wait a minute!”

He started out with their main argument: “All things are lawful for me.” It is probably more accurate to translate that phrase as “all things are allowed for me.” The Corinthians are thinking that this means “I am free to do whatever I want.” But Paul says they’ve missed the point. They may be free to do whatever they want, but those things may not be beneficial. He starts to talk about the gift of the body, that beautiful creation of God, and how our bodies are part of an even more beautiful body, the Body of Christ. He uses this recurrent problem of sexual misconduct among the Corinthians to point out that when they are involved in inappropriate sex, they are uniting the beautiful Body of Christ to the body of someone or something that is not of God. When they do what they please, thinking that Christ’s death has given them leave to do anything at all, they may have fleeting pleasure, but they are not giving God pleasure.

Here’s the heart of the matter: Christ does not set us free so that we can do whatever we want to do; Christ sets us free so that we can do whatever God wants us to do.

Yes, Christ has set us free from our sins. He has redeemed us. But the proper response to that free gift is not as much self-indulgence as we can manage, it is grateful service to the One who has given us the gift. It is not misusing our bodies in sexual misconduct, it is using our bodies in God’s service…and that also includes sex as the gift God intended, in a monogamous, faithful, committed relationship.

Rationally, we understand this. Practically, it can be easy for us to follow the same path that the Corinthians did. Do we say yes to temptations of all kinds – not just sexual ones, but things like overeating, drinking, smoking cigarettes, using illicit drugs? Do we then say “Oh, I was just weak, but Jesus loves me anyway?”

Yes, Jesus does love us. Jesus did die for our sins. But don’t we have an obligation to try to live as He would want us to live? Don’t we have an obligation to try to care for ourselves, for these members of the Body of Christ, as the gifts that we are?

For me, the battle to live as God would want us to live is not about sex. I’m happily married and feel no temptation to stray. Thanks be to God for that! But I am not immune to misusing my body, my part of the Body of Christ…I’ve got an ongoing battle with my weight, not because I want to look skinny, but because I want to be healthy in order to serve God.

Others of us have other ways in which we deny God by using our bodies in selfish ways. I’ve mentioned a few of them: smoking, using alcohol or drugs, sitting around all night watching silly television programs or playing video games rather than getting out and moving, rather than exercising our brains and bodies so we can serve God.

We must change. This is not about New Year’s Resolutions so we look cuter. This is about living in our bodies, which have been called “temples of the Holy Spirit.” This is about recognizing that we don’t get a free ride because we are Christians, we still have to work at living right.

Yes, Paul was talking about sex, and sex was an attention-getter back in his day as well as ours. Sex is one of the many ways that we can get confused about what God intends for us. But Paul was also talking about much more than sex. He was talking about the many gifts that God has given us. Gifts, like sex, like forgiveness, come with responsibilities. They are meant to be used as God intends.

We may all find different paths to understanding what God intends for us, how we are to use our gifts, but make no mistake, God does have plans for us. So now may we gratefully accept those gifts, all of them, and live into them, not as we choose, but as God has planned. That is how we are most truly and deeply part of the Body of Christ.

Amen.

Sermon for Sunday, Jan 8, 2012 (Early Service) Acts 19:1-7 “Extreme Makeover – Soul Edition”

Anybody here ever watch “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition?” It’s on TV on Sunday nights. Here’s the premise of the series: some poor deserving family is nominated for help to replace their awful little home, and a team of professional builders and volunteers and designers take down that old home and replace it with something amazing, in only seven days. The family’s lives are transformed by giving them the home they need, and then some, and all who help out feel uplifted by the experience.

Transformation is powerful, and we who are followers of Christ do know a little about the transformation business. We also know that the starting point for most all of us is in baptism.

What kind of baptism did you have?

Were you a little baby when you were baptized, so the only memories you have of the experience are photos in a scrapbook or a baptismal certificate tucked into the family bible? Did you wear a fancy antique baptismal gown that was worn by five generations in your family and was the liturgy very formal in a Gothic cathedral? Were you a teenager who responded to an altar call and were dunked into the lake at Bible camp? Were you an adult, who perhaps had not been raised in a church or whose church did not believe in infant baptism, and you stepped into a pool in a megachurch, surrounded by a praise choir?

Baptisms come in all different kinds. They share some similarities, of course. There is always water, whether it is in a font or a baptismal pool or a riverside. There are always prayers invoking the power of the Trinity. There is always a focus on how the one being baptized in transformed, but the exterior trappings may be different.

Transformation: that’s the issue that the Apostle Paul was dealing with when he was visiting Ephesus. He heard that some of the Ephesians had been baptized by Apollos, a well-known evangelizer for Jesus. “Great!” Paul thought. Then he asked a few questions, and got concerned.

“Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you were baptized?” “Uhhh….What’s that?”

“The Holy Spirit. You’re supposed to have the Holy Spirit come upon you when you’re baptized.”

“Can’t say that we had any Holy-Spirit type thing when we were baptized. We did feel pretty clean afterwards, though. No more sin. That was sweet!”

You can imagine Paul sighing at this point and muttering under his breath, “Oh, Apollos, your heart was in the right place and all, but this is just not right.”

So Paul said to these Ephesians, “Tell me a little more about that baptism.”

“Well,” they said, “it was John’s baptism, of course. Apollos is a disciple of John, you know.”

“Ah,” Paul replied. “There’s the problem. Apollos baptized you as he was baptized by John. But John was not Jesus – he was the forerunner. He himself said ‘I baptize you with water for repentance, but there is one coming after me who will baptize you with fire and the Holy Spirit.’ John baptized with the baptism of repentance, but he also told the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, in Jesus.”

Oops. Wrong baptism. So the Ephesians said, “Okay, let’s get baptized again, the right way. We are followers of Jesus.” And when Paul baptized them, they began to do all sorts of amazing things, including speaking in tongues and prophesying, all of which were signs that the Holy Spirit had indeed come upon them.

Here’s the opposite of what we talked about in the beginning of this sermon. Here the exterior trappings were the same, but the interior transformation was incomplete. It was as if the builders on Extreme Makeover simply slapped a pretty new exterior onto the old shack.

When I hear this story, I wonder if poor Apollos was just confused, if he thought John’s flavor of baptism was the same as Jesus.’ We know Apollos claimed to be a follower of Christ, although he seems to have never seen or heard Jesus.

He didn’t seem to understand that the way he was initiating new followers of Christ was not quite right – earlier in Acts, a couple of Paul’s friends, Priscilla and Aquila, had chastised him gently for not teaching accurately, and now he was once again off-track.

So was Apollos a bad guy? Was he a dishonest contractor who didn’t deliver the makeover he promised?

Probably not. He thought he was doing things the right way, and in fact, the way he baptized people looks like it was a lot like what we do. Dipping or sprinkling with water to wash away sins through the love of Christ. Sort of a power-wash for the soul. But Paul seems to be talking about something else, something so transformative that it isn’t just a power-wash, it’s an extreme makeover. People are radically transformed when this baptism occurs.

Does this mean that the way we are doing baptism now is incorrect? Are we doing things as Apollos did, or as Paul did? After all, it is unlikely that any of us began prophesying when we were baptized.

Well, wait a minute. When we speak of prophesying, what do we mean?

We hear that word, and we think it’s talking about predicting the future. But in the world of the evangelist Luke, who wrote Acts of the Apostles, prophesying is something very different – it’s about talking about the present. It is, as my seminary professor Ruthanna Hooke says, “to speak in God’s name on behalf of God’s work in the world.”

That’s not so odd: when you think of the ancient prophets of the Old Testament, they talk first and foremost about the way people are behaving in their time that is causing them to get into trouble. Yes, they talk about what will happen – consequences for their actions – but their primary focus is on naming what is going on in their generation and how it comports with God’s wishes.

It is about identifying the ways that we live, and the ways that we need to change, to transform, if we are to be in good relationship with our God.

So this gift of the spirit- prophesying – is not quite so rare as we think. We all know of folks who have that ability to do what we describe as “calling it as they see it.” The only difference between them and prophets is that those who prophesy couch their comments in terms of God’s wishes and God’s work and what we should do. If someone says, “we need to do something about those hungry people who beg for food, so let’s help out at Lamb’s Basket” that person is being prophet. If someone says, “we’re spending way too much on making ourselves looking good and nowhere near enough on helping others, so let’s start a program to help those in need,” that person is being a prophet.

If the only purpose of baptism was to cleanse us of our sins, that would be good, but it would not be enough. After all, we know that Jesus died on the Cross to redeem us from our sins. If baptism is only about our sinfulness, the sacrament is merely a remembrance of Christ’s loving act of redemption. But baptism is something more. It is about taking us, cleansed of our sins, reoriented toward a loving God, and lighting a fire in us to be prophets in that same sense that I described a few moments ago. It is about empowering us to speak and to act in response to the gift of redemption in a way that helps others who need our help.

It is an Extreme Makeover. Not a demolition of an old shack and a replacement with a fancy new home, but the demolition of a self-interested and easily distractable soul and its replacement with a soul on fire for Christ, on fire to transform the love that it feels from God into action to serve God and to help others.

Our baptisms are not simply an initiation, they are transformation. That is the gift that Paul is talking about. We are not just washed and polished up, we are changed into something new. What new thing will you be because of it?

Amen.

Sermon for Sunday, January 1, The Feast of the Holy Name – Luke 2:15-21 “What’s in a Name?”

The children were in a furious battle in the backyard. I could hear them yelling at each other as I sat on the porch, trying to determine whether I could finish my cup of coffee or if I needed to insert myself. Then my four year old daughter said to her six year old brother, “You’re a doody-head and I hate you!”

In the moment, I didn’t know which was more disturbing, the nasty name or the expression of hatred. But over time, I’ve come to respect the importance of getting strong emotions out, and the power of names to shape who we are and what we will become. Names worry me more than an expression of negative emotion.

Fortunately, my son who was called that bad name did not, in fact, turn into a doody-head. He was and is a sweetheart. But a later name did stick, and have unfortunate results. A teacher called him dumb when he did badly at an assignment. It affected his attitude toward school for many years.

We think about it when we name our own children, don’t we? I doubt anyone here would name their child Qaddafi, or Adolph, or Idi Amin. We know that bearing the name of a dictator or a genocidal maniac would scar a child. It would affect how he or she saw themselves, as it would certainly affect teachers and parents of playmates. Who would want their child to play with little Qaddafi?

Names have power. They shape us, they identify us, they describe our purpose in life.

The ancient Israelites understood this. They gave names with meanings. Think of Nathaniel – gift from God. Think of Samuel – God has heard. Think of Micah – comfort. Think of Ezekiel – God will judge. Think of Job – his name means “oppressed.” Names have power to identify us, don’t they?

There is a reason why God had Adam name all the animals…if Adam was to have dominion over them, both power and responsibility, he had to have a sense of connection, a deep and abiding understanding of who or what they were and how they participated in the world. And so Adam named them, we are told, although I wonder how he came up with the name “platypus” or “wombat” or “yellow-bellied sapsucker.”

You will recall that in the Old Testament reading this morning, God instructs Aaron in how to bless the people, those famous words called the Aaronic blessing: The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace….and why such words? Because, the Lord says, the words will put God’s name upon the Israelites. They will not simply be named Amos and Rebecca and Napthali, they will be named God’s people.

Names have power.

Jacob, that troublemaking twin, was given a name at birth that meant “heel holder,” because when he and his twin Esau were born, Jacob was holding Esau’s heel. It was a name that represented the endless battle between these two twins, Jacob always trying to get the better of Esau, tricking him out of his inheritance and such. But when Jacob was an adult, finally realizing how badly he had behaved and struggling to figure out how to make things right, God renamed him. And what was his new name? Israel. Israel, the name that means “God prevails.” Jacob, now Israel, the father of twelve sons whose offspring would form the twelve tribes of Israel, the great nation of Israel out of which Jesus was born.

A name that transformed Jacob from a merely troublesome trickster into a father of nations.

Names have power to make us or break us.

And so we come to today’s gospel.

It begins with a story we’ve already heard, the story of the shepherds hearing about the birth of the baby from the angel and going to visit him. And them the shepherds go back into town and tell everyone what has happened to them. Yes, we know this part of the story.

And then we hear something we haven’t heard before: the time comes for the baby’s circumcision and naming ceremony. It is eight days after the baby’s birth. Why eight days? Why not wait until the child is old enough to decide for himself? Why not do it sooner? Some have speculated that this is because infant mortality was so high in those days, most often in the first week, so they wanted to be sure the baby would survive that first week. But a more beautiful and theologically rich explanation is offered by Rabbi Yisroel Cottar: “We are born Jews. It is not a project we rationally decide to undertake. Our covenant with G‑d is super-rational. It does not go away in moments when our minds tell us otherwise. We do not always comprehend the reasons behind the [commandments]. [According to the mystical writings, the] number seven represents nature and that which is finite. Seven days in the week, seven days of creation, and seven human faculties. Eight represents the super-rational and the infinite. The miraculous as opposed to natural. Belief as opposed to comprehension. And so, a baby is given is [circumcision] on the eighth day. He is entering a religion founded upon faith, whose survival is miraculous, and whose potential in the world is infinite.”

And with the circumcision comes the naming for this newborn boy. And once again, we see the power of a name.

What name is this child given? Jesus, Yeshua, which means Salvation. Talk about a powerful name! And it was not a name that the parents picked out as we do for our own children, it is a name hand-delivered by the angel Gabriel (a name which means “God is my strength”). It is God who does the naming, not Mary and Joseph, because God knows this baby’s purpose in a troubled world.

By naming the child in this traditionally Jewish ritual, God and the child’s earthly parents affirm what this child is meant to do. He will be the salvation of the world, although in this moment Mary and Joseph may not know how this will play out.

Names have power to identify, to and even to show what the future holds, if only in the simplest of terms.

So Jesus is circumcised, as all Jewish boy babies are circumcised on the eighth day following their births, following the tradition of the circumcision of Isaac. And he is given a name that reminds his parents and all who meet him what and who he is…salvation. But before he is even given this particular name, he carries another, that one that was given when Aaron was taught that blessing…he is a part of the people of God. A special part, to be sure, as God’s only Son, but still a part of the people of God.

And this is what we take from this talk of names. They are powerful. They shape us. Our name as God blessed us as his people in Aaron’s time still gives us a sense of beloved belonging to the one who created us. And one particular name gives us hope, the name of Jesus, who is salvation.

Our names these days may not carry as much power as in ancient times. We don’t always remember that “Douglas” means “black water,” or “Sandra” means “defending men.” We might not know that “Frederick” means “peaceful ruler” or “Bertha” means “bright.”

But we do know one thing: the One who was named “Salvation” has indeed done that. His name has the power to identify who and what he is. We are the beneficiaries of his name and his life and his death, because we have already been named, each and every one of us, as beloved members of the people of the God who created us. Our lives have been shaped by our own names and the names bestowed upon us by God, but especially by the one who was named by God himself, as God’s own son, our salvation.

Names do have power to teach, to show and to shape. All we have to do is hear the name of Jesus, that name “salvation,” and we are transformed once again by the holy name and the holy One who bore it.

Amen.