Proper 20, Year B 2018

Trinity Episcopal Church, Galveston
Gospel: Mark 9:30-37
23 September 23

I learned not that long ago that I’m going to be a grandparent for the first time. My son, James, and his wife, Amy, are expecting a baby boy in February. My mind is racing with this new role and what kind of impact I might have on this new addition to our family. One thing I’ve thought about is helping to populate his room with great children’s literature as he grows up. Human beings are storytellers...it’s what we do. The stories we hold dear help us to know who we are and what we value over the long haul. I want to do my part so that my grandson knows that he comes from, and is a part of, a family that holds fast to things which endure.

Those of us who have been around a while….um, let’s just say, those of us who are “high mileage,” so to speak...we certainly have seen things come and go. But, we also know of things that have stood the test of time. I’m not talking about physical stuff. The “things” that stand the test of time are not really things at all; I am talking about faith and the virtues that can guide how we live in each succeeding generation.

The stories I want my grandson to know include the legends of King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table. I want him to grow up hearing about honor to God and country, as well as the virtues of loyalty, and service; I want him to be familiar with stories where a person’s actions have consequences for good and for bad. These stories are at least PG, so they do require some guidance not to take, for example, all of the fighting between knights as a literal way to solve problems. I want to be there to guide my grandson in the good fight, which is not about violence, but, rather, perseverance in pursuit of the good and in resistance to evil.

One story from the larger pool of Arthurian legend and that ties to a theme for this Sunday is the once-upon-a-time when Sir Perceval, a knight of the Round Table, meets the Fisher King in the Grail Castle. In this tale perhaps first written by the French poet Christian of Troy in the 12th Century, the Fisher King suffers from a grave wound that never heals and has left him weak and unable to walk. (He takes his name from the one sport he can pursue… albeit he must fish from a prone position.) As the story goes, or at least my take on it, the entire kingdom also suffers in a way connected to the king’s wound and has become a vast wasteland. While in the Castle with his host, Perceval sees the mysterious Grail procession and that folks who partake from the Grail are healed. But, the Fisher King cannot rise to partake and remains sorely wounded. Perceval does not understand; presumably, this procession is a regular occurrence at the castle, and he wonders why something is not done so that the king can be healed too. But, he does not want to offend with questions. He keeps silent about what is on his heart. For Perceval was taught to mind his manners. It might be considered undisciplined, impolite and out of place for a guest to question the way things are. Questions might make his host uncomfortable….that would have been awkward. Perceval later learns that if he had only asked why the king was not served by the Grail...that very act of allowing his compassion, his sense of justice, to be made known in the form of a question...an expression of authentic empathy would have resulted in the healing of king and kingdom. To me, this story is about how failing to act according to our moral conscience can have consequences for ourselves and for others.

Ok, once again, you may be wondering if this sermon is going to get around to the Gospel. Here you go... Like Perceval, Jesus’ disciples also do not understand something but are afraid to ask about it. Jesus has once again done that thing he had started doing of late…. talking about being betrayed and killed, and after 3 days rising again. They had no idea what he was talking about and were afraid to ask. The last time, when Peter had tried to redirect these comments, Jesus rebuked him in no uncertain terms, “Get behind me, Satan!” They were confused by this talk of failure and sacrifice. After all, with Jesus they were on the cusp of something big; something that was really going to take off. The disciples did not understand, but they chose not to ask any questions. They didn’t want to “rock the boat.” Perhaps, they thought that it was better just to ignore this talk. If you ignore that talk, it might just go away on its own, right?

But, the disciples’ failure to ask the question burdening their hearts, does not have permanent consequences for them and others because Jesus knows their hearts already, and he has abiding compassion for them. He patiently keeps on teaching and teaching. It’s what he does. The second half of our Gospel reading finds the disciples back at the house in Capernaum. When Jesus joins them, he boldly asked them to tell him about the conversation they had with one another on the way. He was not worried that the question would make them squirm...it was the perfect instructional moment. Jesus was not coming from a place of manners and decorum; this was a life-or-death matter. But, the disciples did not want to talk about it; in front of their teacher, it was awkward to admit that they had been arguing over who among them was the most important. I suppose they figured once this movement got to Jerusalem, and Jesus was publicly recognized as Messiah, Jesus would need a cabinet of officials with varying ranks, a chain of command so to speak. Surely, someone, one of them, would have to be first in authority over the others.

What Jesus does next is to sit down. (That is the sign that he is going into teaching mode. When Jesus sits, we should all listen.) He said, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Then he brought a little child among them and took the child into his arms telling them if they welcome such a child in his name, they are really welcoming Jesus. Jesus’ answer to his disciples jostling for prestige and power was to give the example of childcare! It’s his answer to us too jostling with whatever it is that life is throwing at us. Don’t be ruled by your appetite for success, don’t be ruled by your fear that someone else may have more than you, don’t be ruled by what other people think, but rather just be ruled by Love. Let your compassion guide you; it will call you to bring hope, acceptance, warmth, and care to those with the least power: the poor, the little children, the sojourner, the dying and the afflicted. Compassion will call you to ask questions when you think something is wrong. It will call you to do the right thing even when it might make folks uncomfortable. and...even when it takes you out of your own comfort zone.

Given Jesus’ words about welcoming one such child, you know I can’t help but circle back to the prospect of being a first-time grandfather. There is so much to think about. What will it be like to hold him, to see him smile and hear him laugh? Will I show patience when he cries? What will his name be, and what do I want him to call me? Will I be serving Christ when I care for him? I still think about the books for my grandchild’s room, but that’s got to be for later on. God willing, he will not have to wait learn about compassion and other virtues from books. His first teachers will be the ones who welcome him and care for him.
Whenever we are anxious about earthly things, let us turn to heavenly things by allowing God’s love to work through us in acts of compassion. With the help of God’s Holy Spirit may we be inspired in the days to come to find ways to engage in kindness, to ask questions from the heart, and to welcome others as we would want to be welcomed. AMEN.

Proper 18, Year B 2018

Trinity Episcopal Church, Galveston
Gospel: Mark 7:24-37
9 September 2018

During his 5 ½ years in a POW camp in Vietnam, the late John McCain drew on his Episcopal roots — his great-grandfather was an Episcopal minister and McCain attended Episcopal schools including 3 years at Episcopal High School in Alexandria, Virginia. In his family memoir, “Faith of My Fathers,” he recounted how, as a prisoner, he had prayed more often and more fervently than he ever had as a free man.

George “Bud” Day, a fellow prisoner of war, said McCain was among those who volunteered to preach at religious services they were eventually permitted to hold at the prison known as the “Hanoi Hilton.” “He was a very good preacher, much to my surprise,'' Day told Religion News Service in 2008. “He could remember all of the liturgy from the Episcopal services ... word for word.”

When I think of how McCain did his part to lead prayers with his fellow prisoners, 3 points come to mind:

1st point: for people living in comfort and safety...for folks who have what they want and feel quite secure, faith might seem to be optional...like something one can take or leave.  But for people who understand the future to be uncertain, for people who are poignantly aware that life can end in a heartbeat….and for those who are acutely aware that something is profoundly amiss with our world, things are different.  And taking our cue from today’s Gospel….for a mother whose daughter is under the influence of forces beyond her control and for the friends of a man who can neither hear nor speak, things are different. For all of these people, faith is not optional; it is required!

2nd point: What we learn from worship, may come back to bless us in ways we cannot imagine. Over the course of my career in Episcopal Schools, both as a student and an employee, I have seen my share of required Chapels. Morning Prayer sung back and forth with a church full of children in this very place is a cherished memory.  To be honest, though, there were some times in my career when Chapel was less than positive, when it felt as if many of the students would rather have been somewhere else. You could read it on their faces. I remember this from many years ago leading worship at an Episcopal boarding school. These high schoolers were needing to find their way...to push some boundaries and to distance themselves from authority...the very establishment which I embodied as the Dean of Students at the school.  Teenagers universally face a set of internal challenges that come with the job of growing up...so I wonder about the clergy who led worship for the teen-age John McCain and his classmates. Did those administrators and chaplains ever experience a congregation that would have rather been somewhere else? If so, this just underscores a miracle. For, as it turns out, John McCain was later able to recall enough of school chapel that he could lead a group of his fellow prisoners in worship. Even when students do not seem to be paying attention or seem barely awake...they may nevertheless be receiving something that will mean the difference between hope and despair when someday they too find that faith is not a choice but a necessity.

3rd point: There is no place so far away that God is not there.  In our Gospel reading, we have two stories of intercession and healing that are paired together side-by-side in Mark.  These stories are remarkable for what they have in common and in how they differ. What jumps off the page for me is that each story happens on foreign soil.  In the first story, Jesus, for some reason known only to God, is travelling in the region of Tyre, well northwest of Galilee, where he encounters the Syrophoenician woman.  In the second story, he is travelling, for some reason known only to God, to the southeast of Galilee in the region called the Decapolis. This is another Gentile area, a place known for ten Greek-styled towns, remnants of Hellenistic influence, and where Jesus encounters a man who was deaf and dumb.  I think that Mark’s community kept these stories together precisely because they occurred “elsewhere.” This lesson in geography makes the point that wherever we are...in Jewish lands, in Gentile lands, in no-man’s land, even in the Hanoi Hilton...wherever we are, God will hear us in that place.

OK, I’ve got some bonus points because, well, this Gospel has lots to offer. Our two stories from the Mark have something else in common. In both, the ones who are healed, the daughter of a Syrophoenician woman and a man of the Decapolis who could neither hear nor speak...these do not directly make an appeal to Jesus.  In both, a petition is made on another’s behalf. In Mark’s Gospel, faith is the critical element for healing...but it is not always the faith of the person who is in need. Sometimes what makes the difference is the faith of those who intercede. We can’t stress enough our duty to intercede for others.

Now, let’s take a moment to see something these two stories do not have in common.  One suffered from a demon.  A daughter’s life had been taken over by something from beyond her.  The other suffered from the inability to hear or speak. In the first story, Jesus seems hesitant to help, but the mother was persistent yet humble at the same time....Jesus' initial hesitation underscores the groundbreaking nature of a radical idea for the time. Jesus' actions ultimately show that God has no boundaries, that the love of God transcends tribe and nationality.  Just as the Spirit had driven him into the wilderness after his baptism, so now the Spirit moves him to travel through foreign lands...to demonstrate the universality of God’s love. In the second story, friends beg Jesus to lay his hands on a man who is deaf and dumb. These friends ask for something outward and visible, a healing sacrament, so to speak, which Jesus does with touch and with the simple phrase, “be opened.” This word, “Ephphatha,” was preserved from Jesus’ original language, a form of Hebrew known as Aramaic.  I like to think of the different way Jesus handles each healing as a sort of liturgical difference. One emphasized word alone. Jesus did nothing outward and visible other than to announce the healing. The other emphasized Jesus' action as well as word. I’m reminded that the way Christians worship, the liturgies employed... these differ from one place to another. Some ways of worship are profoundly simple while others have a rich complexity with traditions not only of word but of sacrament. In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus is present and presides over two very different liturgies of healing… Here’s the learning: one is not better than the other.  Either way, regardless of the form that liturgy takes, regardless of how we are most comfortable in worship… the main thing, is that we are blessed when we turn to Jesus for meaning, purpose, and wholeness.  And, in those moments we are aware, as was John McCain when a prisoner of war, that trust in God is not optional like some luxury we could do without, may we trust more earnestly, more persistently, and with greater humility. AMEN.