The Day of Pentecost 2018

Grace Episcopal Church, Galveston
Gospel:  John 15:26-27; 16:4b-15

20 May 2018

I worked on my sermon on Friday, and like you I was and still am in shock over the news of yet another mass shooting in a school. Only, this time it was in our own backyard, just up the road in Santa Fe. This time many of us know people directly impacted in one way or another.  I know a retired teacher who had the assailant in his math class last year.  At least three of the wounded were taken to the Level 1 trauma center at UTMB.  When the dust cleared on this thing, 10 persons, two teachers and 8 students were dead. This is heartbreaking, and we are left wondering how we will respond in the days to come. Even while the news was breaking your senior warden, Ellie Hanley, was vetting ways that Grace Episcopal Church might respond. Marti Pittsenbarger suggested that the church be opened Friday evening for those who wished to gather in prayer, and a small group did just that. When I heard that idea I was struck by how much it was in sync with a theme I was seeing in the readings for the Day of Pentecost.  More on this in a moment.

Pentecost comes from a Greek word meaning fiftieth referring to this celebration being on the Sunday fifty days after Easter.  Pentecost is the day set aside to recognize the gift of God’s Holy Spirit to empower and sustain the early Church. We think of this day as the birthday of the Church because the Holy Spirit made it possible for the Church to begin to carry out its ministry in the world. The Holy Spirit, the 3rd Person of the Trinity, is traditionally and often symbolized by fire and water (not to mention the other images). I’m using these two symbols to structure my thoughts. 

First there is fire. We have in our reading from the Book of the Acts of the Apostles the story of the powerful outpouring of the Holy Spirit to believers gathered in Jerusalem. The Spirit was manifested in divided tongues of flame that rested on the heads of those who participated. It is the memory of this sight that inspired the design of the mitres worn by our bishops...the ecclesiastical accessory known to the uninitiated as those “funny pointed hats.” 

What is so striking to me in this story is what continues to this day whenever the Spirit is present. What happens when the very life of God has a place among us is that people are drawn together. In the reading from Acts, people were able to understand one another even though they were from various places with different languages. The presence of the Spirit broke down barriers and helped folks hear one another and hear particularly the good news preached by Peter. Christians who learn of tragedy tend to feel a “tug,” so to speak to come together as a community to pray for peace, healing, and a way forward. I sensed this movement of the Spirit as many churches prepared to open their doors in an unscheduled way on Friday evening. (We would not be surprised if the faithful are drawn in numbers greater than usual this morning in all houses of worship.)

So, when I think of the flame, I think of the Bishop’s mitre, and how the Church was formed as people were drawn together and barriers between them were taken down. 

Second, there is the theme of water. Our reading from Romans speaks of how the whole creation is waiting for a promised hope. In the beginning the Spirit of God hovered over the waters. The gift of God’s Spirit is symbolized with water in our baptism so our spiritual journey of transformation begins as a kind of new creation. The Spirit endows us with Spiritual gifts and the gift highlighted in our reading from Romans is that of hope. Hope is not something seen; otherwise hope would not be necessary. Hope is something we trust will be. Life is such that circumstances so often threaten our hope. Do we have the strength to do what we need to do? When we feel overwhelmed, are we going to be able to keep going? How do we figure out going forward when tragedy is constant and seems to be never ending?

Sometimes, a strong sense of hope is all that we need to stay in the game and see things through. I am reminded of a dream I had in my first year as a priest when I was serving as curate at the parish and chaplain at the parish day school. The dream went like this: I was teaching a religion class and everything seemed normal except that the classroom was on a 747 jet airplane. Suddenly there was trouble, and the plane was headed down. After the plane crashed into a lake, I managed to open a door and lead the students through the water and into an opening in the side of the lake. Once into the opening there was a spiral staircase which I climbed with my class to the top. Upon opening the hatch at the top, we were greeted by archaeologists who were jumping up and down for joy that we had helped them find the opening for which they had been looking. I pondered this over a few days wondering what my Dream Maker was telling me.  

Many dreams are gossamer-like, and you forget them quickly. This one stayed with me. At some point, I remembered something that Carl Jung had written about the importance of the context of the dreamer’s life when trying to figure out a dream’s meaning…. suddenly, the meaning hit me. I was in my first year of ministry, preaching 4 or 5 times a week and teaching classes. I was going through seminary notes to figure out what I needed to cover and I was worried I was going to run out of things to say...that the well would run dry, so to speak. It was like I was drawing cards from a deck and worried that any day I was going to draw the last card. In the midst of this anxiety, I came to believe that God was telling me that there was much more to me than what I was consciously aware of at any moment. I was given hope that the ideas would keep coming, that I could leave the lecture notes and depend on God to inspire me. Well, here it is after almost 31 years and I keep having ideas every day. 

Finally, by way of review...let us notice the color red used liturgically today and so remember that day when the Spirit manifested as tongues of flame and brought people together.  Let us also note that the Spirit still brings people together today even in the face of tragedy. Regard the water in the font as we come and go from this church and so remember that the Spirit was present at Creation and is also present with us as the one Jesus called the Advocate. We do not face life without hope but have One called alongside of us who will give us strength, ideas, creativity, and wisdom to meet the challenges ahead. AMEN

7 Easter, Baptisms, & Mothers' Day

Grace Episcopal Church, Galveston
Gospel: John 17:6-19
13 May 2018

I was blessed to hear Bishop Doyle preach at Christ Church Cathedral on a Mother's Day some years ago.  He included in his sermon a simple but poignant poem by Billy Collins entitled "The Lanyard."  I'm beginning my sermon today by referencing this poem.  (It may be found in Collins' collection The Trouble With Poetry first published by Random House in 2005.)  

You can listen to Collins read the poem himself at this link:

Billy Collins Reading "The Lanyard"

Collins' poem addresses a profound subject: the timeless idea that the sacrifices a mother makes for her children are such that no son or daughter could ever repay them.  You know...it's similar to the concept that the best from this life, things like friendship, sunsets, and a parent's love, cannot be bought for any price... a poignant lesson in our contractual-based, everything-is-for-sale world.  Collins points toward this huge concept with the boy’s “rueful admission” that he once thought his lanyard gift had somehow repaid his mother in full.

I should acknowledge that our experiences of our own mothers will differ.  The range of actual experience, I suppose, goes from warm and nurturing all the way to cold and distant or even absent.  As a young adult,  I would get stuck on my experience as a teenager and how I was embarrassed to the core by my mother’s eccentricities.  (Perhaps you will hear a sermon on that later.) As the years go by, I have more compassion for her and have come to appreciate the sacrifices and life that she gave to me….so much so that, like the boy in Collins’ poem, I know I am completely without the ability to repay what she gave to me.

Now, we move on to the Gospel. This section of John has (from the 16th Century) been known as the “High Priestly Prayer of Jesus.”  Jesus closes his sort-of after-dinner speech to his friends with a prayer for them going forward.  We also are Jesus’ disciples, so he is praying for us too, for those who have come before us and for those yet to come...in other words, Jesus prays for the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church...that mystery that defies human attempts to draw boundaries around it.  In his prayer, Jesus acknowledges that we are in the world because he sent us….the Greek for sent is ’αποστελέω, this is why in our Creed we describe the Church as apostolic….it means simply that we are set apart by Jesus and “sent” back into the world with a mission.  Our mission, like yeast hidden in dough, is nothing short of transformation.  We are called to make a difference by letting God’s love shine through us while we are in the world.

The final part of Jesus' prayer has a theme that we can connect with Mother’s Day.  On our behalf, Jesus sanctified himself.  This word “sanctify,” ἁγιάζω in Greek, is a word that has a place in the theology of our altar (or table).  It means to consecrate or make holy...that is to take and set aside to be used for God’s holy purpose.  Thus, in the Eucharist, we set aside ordinary bread and wine.  God’s holy purpose for this bread and wine is accomplished in giving these elements back to us now transformed into the body and blood of Jesus.

In the Gospel According to John, when Jesus sanctifies himself, this is his code language for submitting himself to the cross….it is his sacrifice that sets him apart for God’s holy purpose.  He does this not only to set himself apart, but in so doing he also sets us apart, consecrates us, makes us apostolic with a mission to serve God’s purpose.

Sacrifice and consecrate are words that describe what Jesus did for us; they describe what happens at the altar; and they have some intersection with what mothers are called to do too.  Being a mom certainly involves sacrifice.  Could it be that a mother’s love can, in its own way, consecrate a child?  Does a mother’s selfless love in some way impact the child, confer upon him or her the basic ability to trust.  Set the child apart as one capable of loving others.  Does her love help to give a child a developing sense that he or she has something to contribute in the world?  These thoughts are apropos for today.

Now, I turn these thoughts toward today’s baptisms.  In Baptism, we recognize that these children not only have a human family but that they also have a Godly family.  By now you know the word consecrate means to set apart for God’s holy purpose. So, today we consecrate these two children as Christians and then return them to their families and sponsors to raise and nurture them in faith...and we pledge to help them too.  Jesus’ prayer is also for them.  Today, we claim the promise and hope implicit in Baptism that Jesus will send Walten and Annabella into the world when their time comes that they too may be like yeast in the dough. AMEN.

6 Easter

Grace Episcopal Church, Galveston
Gospel:  John 15:9-17
6 May 2018

5th Grade Maypole Dance 2015

We are having a beautiful spring in southeast Texas.  New life is evident all around.  On our evening walks, Layne and I have been noticing the change: new blooms on the magnolia trees, numerous rabbits, as well as the occasional yellow-crested night heron, to name a few examples.  Galveston definitely has visible changes in the seasons; you just have to know what to look for. I’m delighted that a plumbago in our yard, almost killed during this year’s earlier freeze, has come back smaller but vibrant with flower buds...itself a testament to the tenacity and resilience of life. 

Given my 15 years as headmaster of Trinity Episcopal School, I suppose I’m programed this time of year to think of the May Fête celebration.  In this time-honored tradition, parents, grandparents, and alumni gather on the grounds to watch students present dances matched to a theme.  The event always concludes with the 5th graders presenting the iconic Maypole dance.  In springtime, nature itself seems to exude joy, and this end-of-year event is a mirror of this joy.  The students know that the celebration marks the beginning of the end of a year of hard work, an anticipation of summer fun and freedom.  The joy is palpable.

Joy is a clear theme in today’s Gospel.  Over the course of the last several Sundays, the readings from John have been snippets from a kind-of after-dinner speech that Jesus gave to his closest disciples.  Jesus describes his words telling the apostles, “I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.” (John 15:11)  The reading reminds us that Easter is itself a season of Joy.

Let us take care to realize that sometimes we can get into a funk and lose sight of the joy we are intended to have.  I know that May Fête came for our school community at a time when energy often was running low...the excitement and promise with which the year began had faded and many (teachers, students, and parents) were ready for a break from the routine.  The end-of-year celebrations helped give us all a boost of energy.  Tradition was as comfortable as it was tonic.  Spirits were lifted as we focused on all the closing activities.

I think we all know that when we lose sight of joy we can get into a kind of funk.  There is a story that’s so old, I bet most of you have heard it before, so I’ll apologize in advance: It was a Sunday morning.  A mother was trying to get her son out of bed, so he would get ready for church.  This particular Sunday, he was adamant that he did not want to go.  He looked intently at his mother and said, “I’m not going to church, and I’ll give you two reasons I’m not going.  1) Those people don’t like me, and 2) I don’t like them.”  Unfazed, she responded, “You are going and I’ll give you two reasons that you are. 1) You are a 50 year-old man, and 2) You are the rector.”  The surprise ending makes the joke, but it also serves as a lesson.  Any, and I underscore, any person or institution as a whole can lose sight of joy and get into a funk.  We may not have a choice over how we feel, but we can choose what to make room in our hearts for.  May God give us the grace to always choose joy.

As Jesus continues his after-dinner speech he makes two startling, never-been-said statements.  Firstly, he boils all of the commandments that we have been asked to keep into a single, simple rule: “love one another as I have loved you.”  In what seems like another lifetime, I served as the Dean of Students at an Episcopal Boarding school.  One of my duties was to keep track of the Student Handbook.  That was the reference that contained all of the rules by which the community lived.  Over my six years as an administrator there, the number of rules grew every year, and the handbook just got thicker and thicker.  Just off the top of my head, I remember adding rules to restrict smoking and to forbid gambling in the dorms...those two added half a page.  I suppose, a potential list of rules in response to human misbehavior is limited only by the human imagination.  Teenagers thrive with boundaries, so I knew the list needed to exist, but sometimes I wondered how it would play out if we just had one rule, the rule of love.  

To be an adult and to be morally mature means moving from what Piaget called heteronomous or (outside directed) morality to autonomous (self-directed) morality.  Observing traffic laws on I-45 only because you don’t want a ticket is heteronomous, while doing the same because you believe it is the right thing to do is autonomous. Perhaps, when we open our hearts so that Jesus can abide with us, this is another way of saying that we internalize Jesus’ love and base our decisions in the light of the love command.  In other words, love becomes self-directed.

Secondly, in his after-dinner speech, Jesus claimed his disciples as his friends.  I’ve often wondered how much pain people would avoid if we had been created without the free will to be selfish.  No one would lie, cheat, or steal. No one would ever make fun of another at the other’s expense.  All people on I-45 would obey the traffic laws!

But that is not how we were created.  Human beings were made in the image of God complete with free will.  If we instead had been made in a way that our choices were determined, none of us would have the ability to be a friend.  A world of automatons is no perfect world as far as what God desires. You see, a friend is just not a friend if he or she is paid, coerced, or required.  I think that a lot can be explained by the idea that in the Big Bang, God set in motion a process that would eventually include sentient life in God’s image… life that would have the ability to reciprocate God’s love, or not.  In the end, Love is not a warm fuzzy feeling.  Love is a choice, and one that bears fruit.  This Easter season, may we all reconnect with the Spirit of joy, internalize the Father's love, and find a friend in Jesus.  AMEN. 

Homily for the Wedding of Cameron Davis & Megan Zionts

Wedding of Cameron Davis and Megan Zionts
28 April 2018
Grace Episcopal Church, Galveston

Today we celebrate the marriage of Cameron and Megan.  This is a first for me in that it marks the first time that I have had the honor to preside at the marriage of a former student of Trinity Episcopal School.  I remember Gena and Gary Davis from those days...but you know, I don’t see the scrawny 6th grader. I’m just going to take his mother’s word that this burly, disciplined man who marries Megan today is actually the Cameron that I remember from 2006!

I’ve got 3 brief pointers to mention about marriage.  I hope these pointers will be a solid guide for this couple’s future and I also hope they will resonated with the married folks who are here today to witness.

First, think with me about a definition of success in marriage.  Cameron and Megan, I hope you will be careful when defining what success might be for you.  No doubt you will work together to make all kinds of goals happen.  Years from now you may find yourself with a beautiful, low maintenance house, two cars in the driveway, and 2.5 low maintenance children who are good looking and above average.  Your Facebook page might show that the two of you just get more and more good looking and your news feed might show how well connected you are.  Everyone on social media, including Cambridge Analytica, would see that you are a couple to be envied! My advice is that you be careful not to go too shallow when thinking about what success in marriage looks like to you.  Try not to think about success in terms of what others think.  The important opinions are those of the two of you.  There is no one right answer but true success will more than likely be something that is non-tangible.  Take curiosity for example.  Another person is always a mystery.  A young couple engages in a journey on which they are learning about one another...What are the places he would like to visit?  What is her favorite memory from childhood?  The list of things to find out about is endless...and even after spending a lifetime together, there is still more to know.  In the end, all people are mysteries to one another.  So my advice is “Stay curious my friends!”  If even after growing old together as a couple, you are still curious about each other….well, that might be one way of describing a successful marriage.

Second, let me say a word about mistakes and disappointments.  Go ahead and accept that these are going to happen.  What matters is not so much that you make a mistake as it does how you recover from them.  Marriage is not about perfection.  Using Brené Brown’s definition, perfection is all about what others think.  Remember, the important opinions are those of the two of you.  Be humble enough to admit your errors to one another and be prepared to amend your ways.  I’m kind of embarrassed to tell you about the first argument between my wife, Layne, and me.  We had recently moved into married student housing at Sewanee.  I was thirsty and was looking in the refrigerator for something to drink when I knocked over an open can of Sprite.  The contents poured through multiple metal racks onto glass shelving, proceeding into a drawer of lettuce and other produce, before pooling under the lower drawers at the bottom.  What a gross, sticky mess.  I was angry. I knew whose fault it was….Layne’s of course.  She left an open can on the shelf where I was reaching...that was “booby trapping” in my book.  I do not remember the back and forth of the argument, but I saw in the end, that my anger was displaced.  I was really mad at myself.  I know now that whenever I start to blame someone else for some mishap, the most important thing is to hold my tongue until the cerebral cortex is back in charge.  I think that the best school we have for learning not to be selfish is the institution of marriage.  It takes work, but over time marriage can be transformational.  The key is to be humble in front of one another.  To be big enough to admit mistakes and to learn from one another.

Finally, let me say a word about joy.  In the theology of the Church, mutual joy is the primary purpose of marriage.  Don’t be a sourpuss couple.  Make plans to do things that are fun.  If you are blessed to have teenagers one day...do not be afraid to smooch in public sometimes just to embarrass them!  Have fun figuring out what makes your spouse laugh.  Beware of becoming much too serious about everything.  Sometimes, you just have to stop and perceive that what life has thrown at you is totally ridiculous.  In the end, you are responsible for your own happiness.  In a way, being joyful is a choice...and the way to choose this path is to be thankful.  Count your blessings.  Revisit why you fell in love in the first place, and be grateful for those qualities in one another.  There is a time for everything under heaven, and sometimes it is the time to grieve.  When this is the case, grieve together.  Help bear one another’s burdens.  Pray and worship together.  Share each day something for which you are thankful.  Sometimes, it is good just to be silly.  Never forget that God’s wish for you is mutual joy. AMEN.

5 Easter 2018

Grace Episcopal Church, Galveston
Gospel:  John 15:1-8

29 April 2018

I’m an amateur photographer and an image aficionado. The best photos for me are everyday images that also carry a timeless meaning.  For example, I was learning photography at Sewanee when I made an image of a boy climbing a tree. I underexposed the negative and overexposed the print to create a black and white silhouette...you could tell that it was a boy climbing a tree, but the silhouette effect helped underscore that the particulars were not what was important.  For me, the image was about growing up. It begged the question, “How is climbing a tree like the journey from child to adult?”

I suppose nowadays children are not encouraged to climb trees.  There are much safer climbing structures at schools and parks. My childhood experience scaling an old oak tree was during summer visits with my cousins who lived on a dairy farm.  My same-aged cousin and I were practically turned loose to entertain ourselves on long summer days...and the big oak tree beside the dairy “called” to us in good weather. We figured out how to climb to a spot among the branches, where we could sit and drink Nehi “belly wash.”  Getting to that point was tough, at one point the main branch lacked limbs but bent just enough that the climber could bear-hug the tree and shimmy up until a handhold was available. We learned the hard way that short-sleeved shirts and pants offered no protection from the rough bark.

Now that I’m “high mileage,” so to speak, the image speaks to me of the journey of life, as a whole, as much as to that small part we associate with “growing up.”  Life has periods that are easy and periods that are difficult. Sometimes, we suffer scrapes, other times we find places to stop for a time and reflect on where we’ve been.  Eventually, we find that we’ve gone as far as we can go. One picture can surely evoke more than a thousand words on such a timeless subject. One picture can evoke greater understanding.

Jesus did not take photographs but he certainly used images in his teaching.  He taught with parables which compared situations of everyday life to the Kingdom of Heaven.  He used what people already knew to help them gain insight on the new thing that God was doing in their midst.  I can imagine the written discourse in today’s Gospel reading going all the way back to Jesus and his disciples having discussions about how the new community, known by its love, was like the branches of a grapevine.

Last Sunday the ordinary image of a shepherd was transformed into Jesus, the good shepherd. This Sunday the ordinary image of a grapevine becomes Jesus, the true vine. In each case, a mental picture was used to evoke a greater understanding of Jesus.

The image of the grapevine would not have been lost on Jesus’ Jewish listeners.  In both the Psalms and the Prophets, Israel is represented as a vine planted by God. While Israel was disobedient to God, Jesus, by contrast, was faithful even to the point of laying down his life. Thus, the true vine is Jesus. The Church is made up of many branches...we are the branches. And without the vine the branches are dying twigs.  People like you and me become the Church, the community of faith, by abiding in Jesus and bearing fruit.

This grapevine image is ripe with meaning, but I’ll limit myself to just noting a few points...just three ideas on how this one image can evoke greater understanding.

1) Jesus notes the presence of the Father as the vine-grower.  The image of a working vineyard includes one who tends to the plants.  This image-metaphor evokes the understanding of God as one who walks with us and who is intricately involved in our lives.  Our God did not create us and leave for some distant place, abandoning us to our own devices. Our God abides in us; we call this companion-God the Holy Spirit.  

2) Branches that begin to bear some fruit will later produce more and more fruit under the vine-grower’s supervision.  The description of branches responding to the vine-grower’s pruning evokes an understanding of the Christian life as being one of transformation.  God is with us, and God is not done with us yet. With God abiding in us, we have power to grow toward the perfection for which we were created….although, not reaching it completely in this life and knowing there will be stumbles and setbacks for which we will have the vine-grower’s loving attention.  

3) Finally, a branch can only live if it abides in the vine.  Disconnected from the water and nutrients in the vine, a branch becomes unproductive, withers, and dies.  Just as our bodies need physical food to live, our bodies also need spiritual food for strength to obey God’s commandments.  Abiding in Jesus evokes an understanding of a worshipping community where we are fed with the study of scripture, with the fellowship of other pilgrims, and with the very life of Jesus made known to us in the breaking of the bread. AMEN.

 

  

4 Easter 2018

Grace Episcopal Church

Gospel:  John 10:11-18
22 April 2018

My oldest son, James, recently sent me a picture from his desk while he was babysitting his less-than-one-month old niece, Natalia.  In the image, you see his laptop on which he was working on software code and below the table his outstretched leg and foot balanced on his niece’s car seat.  He appeared to be gently rocking her while he was programming. He was multitasking, and the image conjured my own memories of doing two or more things at once when caring for my own children.  

I reminded James of one of our family stories that resulted from my own multitasking.  When our boys were youngsters before their little sister was born, we lived on the campus of an Episcopal boarding school in Mississippi.  Layne had taken James to a music lesson on the other side of campus.  I was the Dean of Students at the boarding school and taking graduate education classes one or two evenings per week at Mississippi College.  As it turns out on this particular day, I was at home in the basement working on a term paper for one of these classes.  I was also supposed to keep an eye on our not quite 3-year-old, Walker, who was playing quietly in his room.  Boy, was he “quiet” that afternoon.  When Layne and James returned home about an hour later, I was still at work downstairs. Layne found me and asked, “Where is Walker?”  He was nowhere to be found in the house!  We were both scared, and I was feeling very guilty too.

We looked in the yard, but he was not there.  Layne started working the phones while I went looking around campus.  As I passed along the sidewalk in front of one of the girls dorms, a group of students told me that they had found Walker ambling toward the academic building and alerted their counselor.  The dorm counselor had just spoken with Layne by phone.  We were so relieved!  It seems that Walker had wanted to go to the music lesson with James, so while I was immersed in educational philosophy, he struck out on his own to find his big brother.  I was grateful for the way the students who found him stayed with him until Layne and I were on the scene. Needless to say, I was “in the dog house,” metaphorically of course.  This would be a powerful lesson to any parent...I never forgot that lesson.

Here is the connection between my story and today’s Gospel.  We are at that point in the Season of Easter when we identify Jesus as the “Good Shepherd.”  I’m guessing that like me, most of you have never herded sheep.  But, I am also guessing that many of you do have experience with caring for children, either your own or those of others.  Good parents love their children and do their best.  Even those parents who are very competent in their care have good days and bad days; no parent is perfect….and sometimes we really goof.  The role is full of great joy and disappoint-ment.  Fortunately, our kiddos tend to be resilient and manage to survive our parenting.  Looking back now that all of our children are out of the nest, on their own, and employed, I do have the sense that we had help from beyond….sometimes from friends, neighbors, teachers, and even boarding school students….but as time goes by, more and more there is the sense that the shepherd’s crook of God is and always was behind the scenes.

The image of God as Shepherd is most clearly set forth in scripture in the 34th Chapter of Ezekiel, and Jesus was clearly aware of this tradition.  In Ezekiel, the leaders of Judah are compared with Shepherds who miserably fail at the job of caring for sheep.  They are so focused on themselves that they neglect feeding their sheep as well as attending to their safety.  Ezekiel proclaims God’s intention of taking over as shepherd.  God will seek the lost and bring back the strayed.  In the time to come, God will be in charge of the flock and will personally see to the safety of them all.  Jesus picks up this strand by identifying himself as “the Good Shepherd.” In so doing, Jesus identifies himself as one with God.

There are so many things to worry about with your children….I look back on it and think there had to have been someone upstairs looking out for my family.  Those who stand in the circle of Christian trust, know that sometimes it is only faith that allows us to function and forge ahead in the midst of our fears.

Faith does not mean that we will never have disappointments.  Faith is not like some kind of divine rabbit’s foot that keeps us lucky.  Reason shows us that tragedy befalls the faithful and unfaithful alike.  But faith allows us to live with the uncertainty.  Faith yields a sense that no matter what, somehow, with Jesus as our shepherd all things will work toward the good.  In the end we will all be with God, and we will see again those whom we love who crossed over before us.  I bet that the family of God will be much larger than we ever could have imagined...even Jesus’ other folds, very different from our own, will be part of the one flock...that great cloud of witnesses, past, present, and future.  AMEN.

3 Easter 2018

Grace Episcopal Church, Galveston, Texas
April 2018

Grace Episcopal Church
15 April 1018
Gospel: Luke 24:36-48

In today’s Gospel reading, as is fitting for the Easter Season, we have another of the Resurrection appearances, this time from the Gospel According to Luke.  As in last week’s reading from the Gospel According to John, Jesus points out the wounds on his body to his joyful but wary disciples so that they will know it is really him as opposed to a ghost or some collective figment of their imaginations.  Jesus’ wounds have grasped my attention, so that’s the direction my reflections will go.

Just looking at the two Resurrection appearances we’ve covered thus far in Easter, we can hazard to glean some characteristics of Jesus' Resurrection life.  For one thing, in the Gospel According to John we are made aware that the disciples are behind locked doors but these barriers do not impede Jesus from entering to be with them.  Resurrection life is not constrained by the same limitations that we experience on this side of life.  

For another thing, Jesus’ teaching strategy seems to have changed...rather than teaching indirectly with parables, actions, and sayings that cause us to ponder...now his words have a way of imparting understanding more directly.  In today’s reading, the disciples' minds are opened by Jesus to understand the scriptures. Suddenly, the disciples have a realization of the “big picture” of what Jesus is all about.  They now understand that Jesus is all about God taking the initiative to be reconciled with humanity...that it is now the job of all disciples to proclaim repentance and forgiveness of sins to all people near and far.

Furthermore, Jesus goes out of his way to show that he is real by asking for some food and, then, eating a piece of broiled fish in front of them.  He is still fully God and fully human being only now in a new form of life and on the other side of death.  The disciples are dumbfounded and beginning to realize that with God all things are possible. 

Now, I come back to those wounds that Jesus so readily shows.  In a way, it’s kind of surprising.  I like to think of Resurrection life being the best kind of life that we can imagine.  Now, those of us with mileage know that our various aches and pains and ailments are down payments on our mortality.  One day our poor bodies will give out entirely and, God willing, we will cross to the other side placing our trust in God.  We are taught in scripture that Jesus’ Resurrection is a promise to us, a kind of first fruits in which we also will one day participate.  But, it is still surprising to me that Jesus bears his wounds on the other side of this life.  I like to think of the Resurrection body being a new life without aches and pains, without adult onset diabetes, without the stiffness of frozen shoulder, or any other affliction.  I like to think that God allows us to leave all of our hurts behind, so what gives with Jesus having wounds? ...I’m surprised that he bears those and wonder if they still hurt.

Let me tell a story to help prepare for my answer to this question by way of an analogy.  I'm remembering one of my students from his kindergarten year.  He was a challenge for his teacher because he had frequent meltdowns in class.  Something would happen about every other week that would cause an emotional hijacking and he would just start screaming.  All we could do was remove him from class and wait for him to reset.  Sometimes, his parent would have to come to pick him up because there was no reset.  One time I had to carry him out of class.  I’ll admit I was worried that it was not going to work and that we would not be able to keep him as a student...it was not fair to the other students and their learning.  Then there was a breakthrough.  He was sent to my office after an emotional outburst, but this time he reset rather quickly and he was able to talk with me about what happened. "What did you do that was wrong?" I asked.  This time he did not insist on blaming another student or pointing to his teacher.  He said simply and with some resignation, “I screamed.”  Wow, I got to be there the moment that his mind was opened.  It finally clicked that his own behavior was the issue.  This was some kind of turning point, for I do not recall another event after this that necessitated his having to leave class.  Now, you know why I’m so delighted to hear of his continuing success and happiness in school to this day.  You see, I’ve got a lot of investment in that boy.  I associate quite a few of these gray hairs with him and, you know, I wear these gray hairs quite thankfully because I’m so proud of him.  

Ok, here’s my conviction on the scars that Jesus bears...my take on the wounds that Jesus shows his disciples.  I believe that bearing these wounds is Jesus’ choice.  The wounds are the glory of God; they are the price that Jesus paid for us, for our redemption from the bondage of sin.  You see, Jesus has invested his life in us; he's all in.  I think he bears his wounds thankfully because of his love for us.  Perhaps, we can understand this better when we think of times we have given selflessly to others whom we love. 

It is by these wounds that Jesus is known and by which we are healed.  Perhaps we are freed from having to bear the scars of this life in heaven precisely because Jesus has chosen to do so on our behalf.  Regardless, one thing is sure: In the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, Love has won the victory once and for all.  AMEN.