​Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
The Feast of Christ the King, Year A
November 22, 2020
 
It all started with as car accident in 2013. Dolly Parton, of country music fame, had been in a fender bender, and out of an abundance of caution, she went to Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville to be evaluated.  Her injuries were not serious, but she did need a surgical consult in case there were internal injuries.
 
Her doctor was a man named Naji Abumrad, professor of surgery at the prestigious research hospital.  Dolly being Dolly chatted up her doctor.  By all appearances, they had little in common, but in getting to know one another they found real common ground.  Dr. Abumrad is a Lebanese immigrant from a remote and very poor mountain village.  Immediately, Dolly identified.  She grew up poor in a remote mountain community too.  They both had large families.  They both had found success in their respective fields.  They both had deep gratitude for what they had been able to accomplish from their humble beginnings.  They both had a heart for helping others.
 
Dolly being Dolly kept up with her new friend, asking about his work and taking an interest in his scientific research.  In April of this year, just after the big COVID lockdown, Dolly asked Dr. Abumrad about what research that could be done to find a vaccine.  He told her about Vanderbilt’s partnership with Moderna and promising work in some initial stages for a vaccine.  Without even being asked, Dolly made a gift of one million dollars in honor of Dr. Naji Abumrad.
 
To be clear, a million dollars is not nearly enough to fund such a massive and emergent effort, but her gift got the project off the ground and as it did, they drew attention and were able to secure gifts and grants of many more millions.  This past week, Moderna announced that their trials had yielded a 95% effectiveness rate.  What started through an unlikely friendship led to a vaccine with the potential of saving millions of lives and helping us all regain opportunity to be together.  If all goes as well as we hope, plans are already in the works to begin rolling out the vaccine in early 2021.  This is a great story and a great gift to humanity.  It all came from a human-to-human connection about the experience of poverty and the opportunities of generosity.
 
Today we celebrate the last Sunday of our Church year.  Advent begins next Sunday.  On this occasion that we call the Feast of Christ the King, we are put in mind of the primacy of Jesus way of love that rises above all earthly constructs of power and control.  And the lessons we read for this day, we are invited to turn our perspective of power inside out and upside down. 
 
In gathering his disciples for one of their last meetings, Jesus reminds them and us that the highest and best acts we can do out of love for God is to help one another.  The disciples have been angling for places of privilege in the coming Kingdom of God, but Jesus challenges them to bring about the Kingdom of God in the here and now.  Doing so does not happen through flashy displays of wealth and influence, rather doing do comes through serving God in serving people in need.
 
The pastoral metaphor Jesus employs is separating the sheep and the goats.  Sheep are well known to his folks.  They are sources of clothing and food.  They are low maintenance creatures that feed on grasses and cause very little trouble.  They may not be the brightest of beasts, but they are gentle and easy to tend.  Goats, on the other hand, are more ravenous and combative.  They consume everything in sight, pulling up plants be the roots and laying waste to pastures.  They need to be corralled and limited in number to protect precious grazing land.  When Jesus talks about separating the sheep from the goats to bring about the reign of God, the people know exactly what he means. 
 
The story is not so much about damning the goats to eternal fire as it is helping us to remember to channel our inner sheepness and put away our tendency toward goatness.  This reign of God that folks seem to put off as some apocalyptic event is meant to break into the here and now.  We do not care for the least and the lost in order to gain favor with God as much as we care for the least and the lost because of the favor God has already shown to us.  We are not about dominance.  We are about humble service.
 
On this Christ the King Sunday, we do our formal ingathering of pledges for the work of God through Emmanuel Church in the coming year.  You all are really generous folks, even in an uncertain time.  If you have yet to pledge, please do so that we might plan and budget appropriately for 2021.  It will be a year when healing and hope will come together and it will be a year of restoration and revival even if it is gradual. 
 
We give of our treasure, our time, and our abilities not because it will gain us more favor with God.  We give because we are grateful and we are gifted and we are all in this world together for God.  Early in my ministry, one of my mentors had me look at the list of the most generous givers in the parish relative to their abilities.  He wanted me to see that list to teach me that those were the most engaged, active, and joyful folks in our community.  The grumblers, as he called them, kind of remained on the fringes of our community and rarely gave much at all.  I will never forget that lesson.  In this parish, I do not look at who gives how much, but generosity of spirit abounds here.  I know that first hand.  Thank you and thank God.  Emmanuel lives into its name:  God with us.  The Kingdom of God is not far off or some futuristic reckoning.  The kingdom of God is here and now.
 
I believe this because holiness happens.  What started with a car accident in 2013 resulted in a friendship and unlikely kinship between Dolly Parton and Naji Abumrad.  From that, love gave way to generosity, which gave way to opportunity, which gave way to help and healing for who knows how many.  They did not do it all, they simply played their role in the helping the reign of God thrive.  They took what they had and what they knew and leveraged all of it for good.  Seriously, Dolly Parton has plenty of money, but she does not have as much as she could have because she gives lots and lots of it to serve others.
 
Love in action works this way.  It multiplies.  We do not have to have hit songs or medical brilliance.  We do not have to have great wealth or enjoy positions of high esteem. We do not have to be perfectly pious or completely put together.  All Jesus asks is that we are willing, that we are available, that we are creative, and that we are grateful.  Even as we do small things with great love, God does great things through the likes of us.  Amen.    

Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Proper 28, Year A
November 15, 2020
 
If I were to begin this sermon as I would like, I would hand out big pieces of drawing paper, markers, crayons, paint, and even glitter.  Then, I would invite you to draw a picture of God.  Some would balk claiming they do not have artistic gifts.  That is not the assignment.  Still others would jump on the task and do a stick figure something just to humor me and get to the point.  Still others would be delighted to enter into a creative exercise and would ask for extra time to cover the page.  If we were in an art studio with big tables and easels, we could have a big day together.
 
The fact is that as a teacher of An Introduction to Theology for high schoolers, I gave this assignment on the first day of class.  I took them into a big airy space and gave them all kinds of media to create.  Some took it seriously.  Some wondered what my point was.  The rest of them just played along because they knew that, as I had that I told them, I would grade them -- if only on effort. 
 
In 15 years of teaching that course, I noticed a ubiquitous and major theme.  In drawing God at the beginning of the class, most of the pictures portrayed God as an old, bearded man in a white robe.  There were varied versions of the man, gazing over the earth, and often, he was hurling thunder bolts.  It became clear to me that the image of God the drew was informed more by the Far Side comics and the Simpsons T.V. show than anything else.  This gave me the opening and the opportunity to offer the class as a way of consulting new and different sources.  If their pictures were more abstract, that gave us an opportunity to begin to put words to their perceptions.
 
Among preachers of the lectionary, this is known as Holy Scripture Sunday or Bible Sunday because the opening prayer invites us to read, mark, learn and inwardly digest the holy scriptures which we say “were written for our learning.”  It is a classic prayer that expresses the way we approach the Bible as the Word of God.
 
Inevitably that leads us to interpretive problems in developing our image of God.  We have that grim first lesson from Judges where the presumption is that when the people do what God wants, they succeed, and when they do not, they founder and suffer.  Remember that the Hebrew Bible or Old Testament is a living account of how people thought of God and interpreted what was happening to them.  Their lives were precarious and they came from a context of believing that God or gods needed to be pleased and appeased.  Some of that mythology holds on even to this day.
 
When we come to the Gospel, we hear the parable of the talents.  It is an old chestnut of the faith and a popular lection for stewardship season.  If we read it as straight allegory, we are servants or slaves to a master with high expectations.  If we take what we are given and make more with it, God is pleased.  If we hoard what we are given and play it safe, we are to be left out in the dark.  Matthew is fond of the theme of weeping and gnashing of teeth.  There is a kernel of truth in here.  We do believe God as wildly generous, and we believe that our response to such generosity is to be responsive and creative in serving God.  
 
There are problems with the direct allegory style of imagining God through this lens.  It sets up God as a cruel master who expects some sort of measurable return on investment from us.  The power dynamic also implies and unequal distribution of resources according to ability.  This could lead to seeing the wealthy as more able or more blessed.  And all of this runs counter to everything Jesus preaches about the poor being mightily loved and blessed as well.
 
It is no wonder that the Far Side, Simpsons old, bearded, thunderbolt wielding God is pretty standard in folks imagination.  We need to dig deeper.  Today, I raise the possibility that, in this parable, Jesus is questioning our view of the way God works.  Jesus begins in saying that the kingdom of God had been thought about this way…. He may be saying that we have some of it right:  God is wildly generous, and hopeful for us to take what is given and thrive for God’s sake and out own.  It is also possible that Jesus is telling us that we have some of it wrong too, especially if we consider what we are given as a measure of our ability -- or our power as some translations put it.  Remember, Jesus is in the Temple and addressing the religious elites.  They are plenty hopped up on their power. Their position provides them with lots of material wealth and, they believe they have all the answers. They are trying to trap this Jesus character as misguided as he criticizes their narrow understanding of who God loves most. 
 
Remember that this is the last parable Jesus tells before he will be arrested, tried, and executed as a blasphemer and traitor.  He is about to show that God will stick with us, forgive us, and even rise to live with us no matter what.  St. Paul summarizes this, in his letter to the Thessalonians, reminding us that “we are not destined for wrath, but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ who died for us… that we may live with him.”  The last word is not punishing, it is loving.  Maybe we are not so much about getting people to heaven in the future, as we are about helping them out of hell now.
 
We do need to take the Bible seriously.  We do need to mine it, meditate on it, argue with it, and pray with it to develop our picture of God.  And to do so, we need to look at it whole.  Parts of it will always be problematic.  We have reason and rational minds as gifts to use too.
 
For the final exam in An Introduction to Theology, I asked my students to draw God again and write an artist’s statement explaining the picture.  Most of what I got was expansive, imaginative, and profound.  In holding the Bible, various teachings, and the right use of reason in creative tension, we grew together.
 
The challenge of today is to consider how we are to account for what we are given all the while understanding that there is a God of grace, mercy, and forgiveness rooting for us to thrive.  As we grow in faith, our picture of God will change and develop over time and through experience.  Pull out your crayons, markers, paint, and the glitter of imagination.  Imagine God.  This is not blasphemy.  It is a creative way to seek God and a deeper relationship with God.  Have fun with it. God wants to be seen and known just as surely as God sees and knows us all as beloved creation.  We are all an unfinished masterpiece in progress.

​Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Proper 27, Year A
November 8, 2020
 
Introduction to Poetry
By Billy Collins
 
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
 
or press an ear against its hive.
 
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
 
or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.
 
I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.
 
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.
 
They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
 
I love this poem.  I loved it because of its irony, its ambiguity, and its paradox.  Here we are, hearing a poem that criticizes any narrow interpretation of its meaning, all while the poet wants to make a point about its meaning.  The joke, here, is on all of us.
 
When we gather each week to hear parts of the sacred story of God in relationship with us, we wrestle with the truth as presented.  We look through different lenses: the Hebrew Bible (or Old Testament) Letters from Paul and other early Christians, and the Gospels (literally Good news) of Jesus the Christ.  It is not always easy to interpret what we read.  Sometimes, it is just hard to pay attention to what is said.  And there are so many holy words, cultural nuances, translational issues, historical contexts to understand, and scads of commentary and literary criticism from their time to our time.  And then there is theology (literally God words).  Theology is extracted from the texts as well.  Heaps and volumes of theology have spewed forth from monastics, clerics and academic researchers.  I you want to read about a word, a line, a passage, a parable, or book of the Bible, there is more than one could ever read out there. 
 
Every now and then I just google a verse or two and see what people have written about them.  I am not sure how their search engine chooses what to show me, but usually Wikipedia is in there as are some super fundamentalist sites that want to tell me what to think and where to send my money.  The internet can take us from being a searcher to being a product for commerce pretty quickly.  I do not recommend this form of inquiry as more than entertainment.
 
I am all for scholarly inquiry and I spend much of my life immersed in interpretation, but in the end the Word of God is more like a poem than a theological treatise.  The Word of God is a story not a text book.  And that story intersects with my story as a Christ follower and our story as a faithful body.  It might be good to take Billy Collins’s advice and hold it up to the light like a color slide rather than tie it down to find out what it really means.
 
All of our lessons for today are both revelatory and problematic.  Joshua issues the clarion and bedrock call to “choose this day whom we will serve,” but in process portrays God as jealous and vengeful God.  Saint Paul, in his effort to comfort the Thessalonians who are expect God’s kingdom to come immediately, gives us this end times apocalyptic rapture image of being drawn up into the sky.  All of that muddies the waters of what happens when we die because, he says, the dead do not rise until some second coming of Christ, but at the cross Jesus tells the thief at his side he will be with him in paradise that day.
 
We tend to look to the Gospels to be more definitive and central as they focus on God made human.  And yet, Jesus’ parable of the ten bridesmaids is more of a head scratcher than an affirmation of truth.  We can’t be sure who the bridegroom represents or if we are the wise or the foolish bridesmaids, or if we have enough to share or not.  About the only clarity to be found here is the final line’s admonition “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”
 
I am not suggesting that the Word of God is meant to confuse us, but it is meant to challenge us as much as it is to comfort us.  Holding these passages up to the light, we might find a broader and wider meaning rather than chasing details down a rabbit hole.  As the Orthodox say: “Is mystery.” 
 
From Joshua, it is fair to say that we set up false gods of money, ego, and power.  They may not be Amorite or Egyptian gods, but they do obscure our faith and devotion to our One God.
 
From Saint Paul, the details of what happens when we die may be unknown, but we rest in hope of resurrection as is promised.  This life is part of a much bigger life in God.
 
And from Matthew, the parable may be confusing, but the conclusion is not.  God comes to us whether or not we expect God to show up, and it is good to be on the lookout for holy happenings.
 
We have just lived through a week of shifting sands.  The back and forth of our election have us all reeling to the extent that we are concerned or paying attention.  There are and will be endless analyses, speculations, accusations, and interpretations.  What does it all mean?  It means we are divided and not of one mind as people and as a nation.  That is really nothing new, and it was true before the first votes were cast.
 
If your candidate lost, fellow Christians we still have our mission.  It comes not from party affiliation but from baptism: to proclaim the Good News of God in Christ, to seek and serve all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves, and to strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being.  If your candidate won, we still have that same mission.
 
There is a great scene in the classic movie Rudy that helps sum this up.  In the film Rudy is young man working tirelessly to make the Notre Dame football team.  Along the way he in befriended by a Catholic priest who looks out for him.  Near the end, Rudy asks the priest if he has done enough, if he has prayed enough.  The priest responds: “Prayers happen in our time, the answers come in God’s time.  And in 35 years of religious studies, I have come to realize only two incontrovertible facts:  There is a God, and I am not Him.”
 
We can wax philosophical, theological, and even poetic, but the truth remains: our meaning, our existence, and our destiny is a gift of God.  In all of the confusion and chaos of life, may we hold ourselves and one another up to the light and shine.

Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
All Saints, Year A
November 1, 2020
 
Today is a great church day: All Saints Day.  It is a day when we remember and celebrate that we are members incorporate in the communion of saints.  We are part of a great cloud of witnesses to the love that goes back centuries and centuries and stretches forward into eternity.  Today is a celebration day, a remembering day, and a perspective gathering day.  With so much cluttering our short-term spheres of concern, it is good to take a long view and remind ourselves of the power of God outlasting and overcoming whatever chances and changes vex our souls.  We even use the term ineffable joys to describe the horizon of our hope.  Ineffable means indescribable and unutterable, but still we ought to talk about it.
 
Today, I want us to talk about saints and sainthood.  To get there, I invite you to engage in a simple exercise:
 
First, as you consider all of Holy Scripture and all of the passages and verses that impact our life of faith, which stand out as most important or impactful.  This is not a moment to bible shame if you did not do the whole memory verse competition in Vacation Bible School as a kid.  But what are the ones you remember.  What are the ones that guide you, comfort you, and challenge you to live into what we believe?  Is there a biblical greatest hits list in your mind?   Got that?  Ok, let’s move on.
 
Second, as you consider all of the great music and hymnody of the Church, can you come up with the most impactful of all the songs we sing in worship and praise?  All Saints has some great ones: I sing a song of the saints of God, For all the Saints from whom their labors rest, Ye watchers and ye holy ones.  It is really rough not to be able to sing together.  We will again, and by will we appreciate what we have missed.  There are, however, no rules against humming loudly behind our masks.  Think of all the tunes and word that come to mind.  Can you list the top five?  Got that?  Ok, let’s move on.
 
Third, could you name the top five sermons that you remember having a lasting impact on your life of faith and formation?  Ok, that one is fraught with danger as sermons can be like a good joke.  You may remember that you liked it, but cannot retell it exactly.  It does not hurt my feelings if you have a hard time with this one.  We all do.  Got that?  Well, neither do I.
 
Finally, as you consider your life of faith and your own personal formation, can you identify those individuals who have had the greatest impact?  These can be people you know or people who have achieved some notoriety.  In your mind, can you make that list of the mentors, friends, and people of greatest influence in your life?
 
Now, which of these lists were the easiest to formulate?  Which of these lists got you really thinking and connecting to who and how you have become who you are: what you believe, how you behave, and what you hope to become?  Most people say that list of people was the easiest to assemble, the most evocative of goodness, righteousness, and, even, holiness.
 
I have my own list: family friends, teachers, some clergy, and even, a particular Sunday school teacher.  In my life of working is parishes and schools, I have been blessed to encounter God in soaring sacred worship, profound celebrations of song, moving and eloquent preaching and proclamation, solemn liturgies, and seasonal blow outs, but the glue connected my faith into a relatively coherent and meaningful enterprise has come through the people of God.  In God’s continuing love affair with the world, God’s people have kept the faith, and kept us faithful, more than anything we can read, study, sing, or proclaim.
 
These people are saints.  We tend to think of saints as long dead giants of the faith.  Some of them were persecuted or martyred.  There is even a process for commending saints.  The Episcopal Church has complied books of remembrance and mini biographies.  It is a fair exercise, but a bit much as there are so many to recognize that the we have run out of days in the year.  And if you ask me, the ones I know have had more impact on me than one who converted folks to Christianity at Antioch in the 8th century.
 
Today is a great church day because we get beyond all of the officialdom of churchiness, throw it all up in the air, and consider the great gift of those who have shown God to us.  Despite all of the hype we give to the term saint, saints are not perfect people.  No person is pure, holy, righteous, and blameless all of the time.  Saints come with faults, foibles, and failings too.  But the great power of God is to shine through the cracks of human brokenness and reveal great love.
 
So, hold up the saints of your life in the light today.  Give thanks for them.  Think on their witness.  But there is one more thing.  Know that it is not only possible, but likely, that you are a saint for someone else.  Yes, you and I have the power to reveal God to others.  We call our parish Emmanuel because that means God with us.  Sure, God is revealed in the Bible, God is honored in the prayers, God is praised in songs and anthems, but God really becomes real as God’s love busts into now in the love we have and share together. 
 
Today is a great church day because it is our day too.  It is the feast of ALL SAINTS.  That great cloud of witnesses stands beside us, behind us, and before us, helping us to be saints too.  Amen.
​

Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Proper 25, Year A
October 25, 2020

Listen to me.  Listen to me. 
 
We called him the big Mahaph.  I am not sure why, but he was a large man with a large voice and plenty of passion.  He was my best friend, James’s father.  The Big Mahaph was a pediatric research doctor and professor at the Medical College of Georgia.  He rose through the ranks of medical school, residency, and fellowships treating complicated cases.  Trauma was a constant in his work.
 
I spent a lot of time at James’s house, especially on college breaks.  And whenever we would leave to go to the road trip, go out on the town, go play golf, or just go to the store, the Big Mahaph would chase after us saying: “Listen to me.  Listen to me.” And then he would tell us how careful we needed to be, regaling us with a trauma story.  He had stories about how kids got hurt in every way imaginable, and he did not spare us the gory details.  One time, when we were going to get some school supplies, he told us about a kid who fell down at school and stabbed a pencil through his hand.  For Christmas that year, James and I got him 100 pencils with the words “Listen to me! Listen to me!” printed on them.
 
While we knew they were coming, we always stopped and listened to the Big Mahaph’s cautionary tales.  It was best not to try to sneak off or get away.  He would just chase after us.  If we laughed, he would lengthen the story.  And in the end, he would say “Listen to me.  Listen to me, because I love you.”
 
Listen.  Listen.  As a culture, we are not all that good at listening.  Listening is an art that requires intentionality.  There is plenty of talking going on out there.  Technology has brought more talking to our ears than ever.  News noise is particularly loud right now, and rather than listening for deeper understanding, we are delivered the news noise that marketing algorithms determine what we want to hear.  Thus, we are hearing, but not really listening.
 
The gospel we hear today takes us back to Jesus in the Temple where there is a lot pf talking going on.  He is being grilled and tested yet again.  “Which commandment is the greatest.”  This is a popular intellectual parlor game for the Pharisees.  They have extrapolated the law to include 613 particular commands and argue endlessly about each of them.  There are a thousand things Jesus could say.  Where will his plant his flag?
 
Rather play the game and argue for one particular rule or regulation, he says speaks the content of their most sacred prayer.  “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind (and) You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”  They know this as the Shema.  It is the prayer they speak to their loved ones as they rise and before they sleep.  Once again, Jesus does not answer their question directly, going, instead, for a deeper and most fulsome response.  But there is a statement buried in this answer too.  The know the Shema by heart, and the Shema is so named for the first word of the prayer, the first word of the command, and the centering utterance of the statement.  Shema means listen and hear.
 
There has been so much noise around Jesus.  Noise from the Romans who see him and his followers as a rebellious threat.  Noise from the religious elites who see him as a threat to their authority, purity, and control.  Even Jesus’ disciples make noise, jockeying for position, seeking a place in the plan, and hoping they will gain special blessings and powers.  But Jesus stops them all dead in their tracks.  Shema.  Yes.  Listen.  Hear.
 
This was a perfect revelation for those around Jesus.  He calls them back to the heart of who he is, who God is, and who we are for ourselves and one another.  This is a perfect revelation for us right now.  With the world spinning at a maddening pace in its polarities and politicization of everything, Jesus helps us get above and beyond our wallowing in details and points us to the heart of faith.
 
There is so much of God in the world for us to hear.  The natural rhythms of winds in the trees, the rustling of leaves, and even the falling acorns.  There is running water and crashing waves. There are the squeals of children and deep belly laughter.  There are cries of pain and joy.  If we listen beyond the noise, the world is so alive with God that we cannot help but see and love God with all of it: heart, mind, soul and strength.  And if God gives us all of this, we must love us too, because we are awash in God.
 
The great theologian and author, Frederick Buechner puts it this way: “Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.”
 
After this, they stop asking Jesus questions.  If they want to know who God is, they can see Jesus right in front of them.  Even as they send him to the cross, he will not give up on them.  The time for talking is over.  The command to listen is dropped like a pebble in still water, rippling out for all to see.
 
Above all of the noise, the fear, the anger, the blame, and trauma of what we do to one another, Jesus calls us home.  Listen to me, he says.  Listen to me, because I love you.  Amen.

​Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Proper 24, Year A
October 18, 2020
 
Whose face is on the money?  Of course, that depends which coin or bill.  But whose face is on the standard of unit of our money?  That would be George Washington.  I had to think about it for a minute.  Funny how we chase it relentlessly, create particular vessels to hold it, take serious measures to protect it but almost never keep it as cash, at least not for long.
 
It is worth reading a dollar bill now and again.  It is a Federal Reserve Note, printed at one of two facilities and then issued at one of the Reserve’s banks. It is six inches long, given a specific serial number, covered with symbols and imagery including the statement that “This note is legal tender for all debts, public and private,” and the words “in God we trust.”   Each note is particular and specialized in its printing so it is nearly impossible to counterfeit.
 
Each bill of succeeding denominations has a similar, but particular design, and a different face.  It is a big honor to make it on the money.  That is true not only in our nation, but around the world.  We love good old George Washington: the honest and brave general of the American Revolution, father of our country, first president, and all that.  It makes sense that he makes it on the primary unit of American money.
 
Of course, we do not believe George Washington, or any other of our national leaders to be holy, righteous, and blameless all of the time – certainly not to be divine.  There have been a number recent kerfuffles lately as to the beliefs and actions of those whom history has tended to lionize.  Some of that is warranted.  Some of that has become a purity test that no one could pass, if we are honest.  Even Mother Theresa had her hot-tempered moments.  Many have passionate views on the subject, and that is not what this is about.  What it is about is that we take money seriously and the images we engrave on it makes a statement of importance.
 
When Jesus is in the Temple, he is asked about money directly.  It comes in the form of a gotcha question about the lawfulness of paying taxes to the occupying emperor.  The Herodians and the Pharisees, who are not even friends, get together to try and trap Jesus in either religious heresy or Roman rebellion.  They start out with lavish compliments about his credentials, acting as if they are friends and admirers.  They are neither, and Jesus knows it.  The controversy is about the money itself and the practice of paying taxes.  The Pharisees do not wish to support Rome.  They believe taxes should be paid to the temple.  The Herodians support Rome and comply with their taxation.
 
Jesus asks them to produce a denarius.  A denarius is standard monetary unit for Rome.  Someone produces one for him and he asks whose picture is on it.  He uses the word icon – a word we used to use for an image that points beyond itself as a window into deeper truth.  Nowadays, an icon has become a little image upon which we click to get into a computer application, program, or file.
The icon, they say, is of Emperor Tiberius.  Further, the inscription calls him the son of Divine Augustus, which is quite a claim.  Everyone gasps.  It is not kosher even to have such a graven image in the Temple, so Jesus is on dangerous ground.  But then he diffuses the whole thing, saying, “give to the emperor what is the emperor’s and give to God what is God’s.”
 
Jesus is not talking about the separation of church and state and some have opined.  He is talking about the reality of all creation.  Nobody asked what is the emperor’s and what is God’s because that answer is really self-evident.  Everything is God’s creation, thus everything is God’s.  Our lives are a pass through.  We bring nothing in, and we take nothing out.
 
Even so, money is a very real symbol for us and it is really important to us.  Almost every culture and civilization has developed money of some kind.  Jesus never says that money does not matter.  If fact, he says quite the opposite.  Even his little community of followers keeps a purse to feed and clothe themselves.  But Jesus tells us is that money itself is an icon, a symbol pointing to something beyond itself to a deeper truth.  It may not be able to buy me love as the Beatles remind us, but money does give us choices, and the power to make choices.  We work for that power, we esteem that power, and yes, in this critical season, we vote according to what we believe about the part we play in directing that power.
 
Far from trying to take us to some pie in the sky utopian world without money, Jesus gets down in it with us.  He knows that we think about and contend with money as a matter of human interaction and survival.  Most likely, we think and worry about money as much as anything else.  And if we are honest, one of our biggest concerns is if there will be enough: enough to provide for our families, enough for education, enough for retirement, enough to have choices about where we live, what we do, and where we are able to go.
 
Jesus comes to it from a different angle.  Over and over he points to the earth and all that is in it as God’s.  He sees this life as only a part of larger life.  He preaches and teaches and shows abundance in love, mercy, and forgiveness.  Not only do we have enough, we are enough and we are filled with possibility for being God’s hands, feet, and heart for this world.  Money, then, is a tool and a symbol of how and where we choose to thrive.  What we do with it tells us who we are, and what we value.  When we work out of abundance and not scarcity, we chase away the worry and welcome the opportunity.  That is easy to say and hard to do.  It is a spiritual challenge.
 
Seasonally, this is stewardship time in the Church.  We are all crafting a budgets for 2021.  I am suspicious – no, I am sure -- that the lectionary committee, the people who plan and select the thematic readings for each Sunday, plant this lesson here to help out the cause.  In reality, stewardship is not a season but an everyday practice of taking what we are given, everything we are given, and using it to value what matters to us.  Given our history and practice, you all really value Emmanuel and our work as the local Jesus Movement.  The place, the people, the hopes and dreams of God we encounter here really matter to us.  As we do the right things, money will follow.  There will be opportunities in this season to think, pray, and make a commitment. 
 
One of the devotionals I read offered me this, a great reflection on this lesson:
 
“Where is God’s impression in the coinage of my daily life?”  It is a lovely question and it cuts to the heart of how and what we give in this life.  If we are there, thinking, praying, and acting as God’s beloved vessels, no matter what, we are on the money.  Amen. 

​Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Proper 23, Year A
October 11, 2020
 
Four years ago, a series came out on NBC called “The Good Place.”  It featured some A list actors and garnered critical praise.  The show was based in the afterlife, where people who had achieved a high-level moral score in their mortal life got to live in a utopian “Good Place,” presumably, heaven.  It is a nice enough and all of the people are just lovely, if not a little bland.  Others, we are told, are consigned to the “Bad Place,” about which we learn very little.  The whole plot takes a turn when the main protagonist and her only friend in the “Good Place” begin to believe that they have slipped through by mistake.  Both of them are not all that nice and they find the rest of the people there really boring, too good, and uninteresting.  The head “Good Place” guy senses her discomfort, denies that there could have been an error, and assigns them moral coaches to help their experience.
 
Eventually, the main characters discover that really, they are in the “Bad Place” and they have been thrust into a fake “Good Place” as punishment and reproof, and the so-called moral coaches are really punishing demons   After that, I confess that I tuned out.  It was a good idea, but it ran its course.  I did learn that in the final season, they were given the chance to return to their earthly life.  Their memories of the afterlife were erased, and they are given a chance for an earthly do over.  Then, the show was cancelled.  Probably, that was best.
 
Good places and bad places are front and center in all of our lessons for today.  In Exodus, we hear of the whole golden calf caper in which the people, fearing that Moses has left them, and God has abandoned them, revert to some old pagan ways, melting down their gold and crafting an image of a god that they can worship as a thing, requiring no real relationship or commitment.  In a frenzy, they forgot all that had been done for them, lost faith, and took themselves to a bad place.  In the Ten Commandments movie, that scene was scandalously reviewed as lewd and provocatively costumed.  It was a crude caricature of hedonistic pleasure seeking that did not end well.  The people looked silly.  It could have ended poorly, but God had mercy on their foolishness, and got them back on track.  It is cautionary tale for us to remember the God’s blessing even when we feel lost or confused.
 
Matthew’s gospel offers yet another perplexing parable in which a king throws a wedding feast and the guests cannot be bothered to accept his largess.  After exacting a violent revenge, the king then sends his servants out into the streets to gather whoever is there to be his celebratory guests.  One poor soul, apparently clueless, turns up without the proper attire, and he is summarily thrown out into the outer darkness.  Then we get the stern line that “many are called, but few are chosen.”  It identifies the bad place as outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.  If you have ever perseverated in the night and ground your teeth, you get the picture.  It is a hell of our own making. 
 
Far from a complete metaphor for God’s grace, the parable introduces the themes of judgement and exclusion from the God’s kingdom.  It is meant as a swipe at the religious elites.  It is a scandalous exposé.  It might leave us wondering and nervous about how we are clothed and whether we are destined for the “Good Place” at all.  Fortunately, that is not the end of the story, but the parable leaves us hanging.  It is not a bad idea to consider our role in owning God’s goodness and love, even if our destiny is not all up to us.  
 
The ideas heaven and hell are so various and so laden with human contrivances that it is really hard to accept or understand how or why a God of love would set us up to fail.  We are left wondering about the calculus of salvation but, looking deeply at the whole of the story, it seems that the bad places are places of our own creation.  As we build and adhere to structures of materialism, envy, avarice, exclusion, and separation, we establish hellish ways doing life.  Cutting ourselves off from grace, love, forgiveness, and community, we attempt to go it all alone: us against them, might as right, and above all, me first, we get lost and more alone than ever.
 
I almost wish we could have read from Paul’s letter to the Philippians after the difficult Gospel.  In the midst of our confusion and wonder, Paul sends a love letter of encouragement.  Certainly, if St. Paul had a greatest hits album, these verses would be on it:
 
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
 
He offers a guide to living in a good place.  Instead of seeing the Kingdom of God as something to be realized in the future, he offers a way to be kingdom people in the here and now.  It is a tall order to rejoice always, not to worry, and to live in constant prayer, but the last line offers a peace which is pure grace.  He asks us to practice the presence of God rather than waiting for some future reckoning.  The good place is breaking in, here, now.
 
He goes on: “Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.”
 
Notice that he says the God of peace will be with you, not might be with you.  The truth is that we can see good and bad places in our lives, in our world, and we can speculate and worry if we so choose.  We are plenty capable of consigning ourselves to bad places.
 
Ultimately, living our faith is not about us attaining or reaching the “Good Place” where everything is perfect.  The future is all in God‘s hands.  Ultimately, living our faith is about positioning, listening, and believing that we are always in God’s good hands, and that is a really good place to be.  Amen. 

Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Proper 22, Year A
October 4, 2020
 
When we moved into our house a little over a year ago, our master bath came equipped with one of those special kind of mirrors that pulls out from the wall and gives you a really magnified view of your face.  I have never been one to stare at myself in the mirror.  I give it glance as I brush my teeth and hair, but that is about it.  But this special mirror captured me - and scared me a little.  It is like being at the fun house at a carnival.  While the image is not distorted, it is so magnified beyond what I can see in a regular mirror. Wrinkles are like canyons. Pores are look like moon craters.  Eyebrows look like strands of pasta.  I prefer to see myself at a safe distance, so I do not use that mirror on my side of the vanity.
 
Even so, the close-up mirror has proven useful.  Looking at a spot on my nose, I decided it needed to be seen by someone who knows about skin, and sure enough it was cancerous and had to be removed.  Now, I can find my little scar in that close-up mirror, and admire the handiwork of a skilled surgeon.  It is a visible receipt of good health insurance.   
 
Perhaps you can see where this is going.  Pun intended.  The whole progression of today’s lessons is meant to give us a clear look at ourselves in relationship with God.  The ten commandments, as presented give us law to follow: a clue of basic behavior standards from being in community with God and one another.  If you have seen the movie, you may remember Charlton Heston as Moses, and coming down from Sinai with a super red face, and wigged out hair as representation of him having seen God.
 
St. Paul’s letter to the faithful in Philippi reminds them of the law but tells them that knowing and following Jesus is deeper and more life giving than external actions.  It is not about having the right pedigree, the right denominational affiliation, or the right political affiliation.  Instead of establishing credentials, he encourages them, and us, to go deeper, to make a leap of faith that moves us from intellectual or practical assent, to full fledged lose-yourself-in-it relationship with God in the person and work of Jesus.
 
Finally, Jesus tells a parable.  The story is like a complete review of the history of people in relationship to God.  The landowner plants a vineyard.  He knows what he is doing.  He fences it in, sets it up to make wine, and builds a little look-out tower so folks could see the whole thing in all its glory.  This is creation: the earth and all that is in it.  And it is a marvelous, nourishing, and sustaining creation.
 
Then the landowner (God) leaves it in the hands of tenants to care for it and help it thrive and produce good stuff.  When the time comes for the landowner to enjoy the benefits of his good design and fruitful harvest, he sends his people to collect the bounty.  Much to his chagrin, the tenants beat up one guy, kill the next guy, and stone the last guy.  Seeing their disrespect for what they have been given and their refusal to honor the one that gave them the place to tend in the first place, he sends his own son to straighten them out.  But the tenants still refuse to do the right thing.  The throw the son out of creation and kill him.
 
Remember that Jesus is in the Temple and he is speaking to the Pharisees.  Pharisees are the religious leaders, scholars, and uptight score keepers.  Jesus asks them what that landowner should do, and their response is sharp and direct.  An eye for an eye.  The landowner should kill them and get some honest folks to do his work.
 
Then comes the twist.  Jesus points them past their notion some sort of redemptive violence.  Instead of all that, he holds up the mirror, tells them that they are the wicked tenants.  He tells them that the Kingdom of God will be given to folks who embrace the one they reject – Him.  Instead of giving them what they deserve, he tells them that what is deeper than all of their laws and competitive piety is a loving and fruitful relationship with God.
 
Naturally, they are upset.  Jesus challenges their self-styled superiority, opening the door for them folks to drop their preconceived notions, break up their exclusive club, and get right with the generous and loving One who includes, accepts, and welcomes all comers. Rotten Pharisees, boy, does Jesus expose them for who they are.
 
Not so fast.  A parable is a picture.  Like any picture we are given, we must look for where we are in the scene.  How do we look?  Are we busted for assuming that we have everything right?  Are we busted for thinking of creation as something we possess?  Are we really going to labor under the assumption that we have what we have because we earned it?  Creation is given.  Whatever we make of it, we make out of what we have been given.  Even the scientific record affirms that out of nothing, everything came into being.  It is the Creator’s gift.  We are all tenants.  What will we do with what we are given? 
 
Today, whether we like it or not, Jesus holds up the magnifying mirror.  And if we look carefully, honestly, and faithfully, there are plenty of blots and blemishes.  God knows that about us.  It is good for us to see that as clearly as possible.  What Jesus shows us is that God doesn’t throw us out because we flop and fail.  Instead, God takes the broken pieces that we are, and builds something new and beautiful.  Creation is not finished.
 
Here is the challenge.  It is so easy for us to look past the magnifying mirror of ourselves and find what is wrong about others.  There is no shortage of opinion, vitriol, violence, and corruption in the bigger and wider pictures we see, share, and create.  And we are almost hard wired to fight back when challenged or threatened. 
 
Here is the opportunity.  If we listen deeply to Jesus parable, and gaze at the picture he develops, we see how to breaking the cycle of reactive destruction.  Ideas, positions and policies can be discussed and evaluated with respect and, even, disagreement.  The worth and value of each and person is not up for discussion.  The worth and value of each and every person is a given.  When we start there, we live the Way of Love.
 
Look in the mirror.  See that even up close, we are wonderfully made.  All that is in us is a miraculous blend of systems and senses.  Creation is amazing and it keeps happening.  Skin has a remarkable way of telling a story.  See the lines, folds, scars, and spots as well-earned experience.  Look in the mirror and see the person God loves and cherishes.  Looking in the mirror we see the only person we can change.   Get the picture?  Amen.