​Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Second Sunday of Epiphany
January 17, 2021
 
 
As a high school Theology teacher, one of my favorite lessons was when I announced that I was going to argue, forcefully, for the existence of God.  Given that these were thoroughgoing adolescents, that brought on a big eye roll.  Any authority figure was suspicious, and they were pretty convinced that they know everything already.  Announcing that I would argue anything forcefully was like ringing the bell for a wrestling match.
 
I started with big words.  That always bolsters one’s point.  The Cosmological, Ontological, and Teleological arguments for the existence of God are the old chestnuts of apologetics.  Really, they are simple mind games.  The first argument is that everything has a cause.  Nothing comes into being from nothing, therefore, God is the first and prime cause of all.  Of course, they asked “Well, Rev., then what caused God?”  Time for the next argument.  This one is based on the concept of being.  Nothing we can imagine, fashion, or create does not come from something else.  So far as we know, matter is finite.  Thus, if we can conceive of God, God must exist.  That one makes your hear hurt.  Finally, there is the argument of intelligent design.  This one proposes that everything from atoms, to molecules, to systems and life is so complex, so functional, and so intricate, that there everything must come from a Master Designer.  “Well Rev,” they would say, if you put an infinite number of monkeys in an infinite number of rooms and give all of them a typewriter, eventually one of them will write the complete works of Shakespeare.”  They argued that we are just the product of billions of years of evolution.  Even when the odds are millions and millions to one, somebody wins the lottery.
 
The problem with all of these arguments is that they are not sufficient as proof.  We cannot get to God playing intellectual and philosophical ping pong.  The best way I knew to break that log jam was to ask a simple question.  Does your mother love you?  Even the most argumentative say “yes.”  Then I challenged them: prove it.  There followed lots and lots of stories of love in action and specific experiences.  As the students shared story after story, they became more and more intimate and really touching.  They talked until the bell rang.  As they left, I handed them a slip of paper that said “Like proving somebody loves you, we cannot prove God’s love either.  All we can do is tell stories.”
 
I ripped that off from the poet, W.H Auden.  I did not think that lesson up because I am wise or smart.  I just wanted to clear the air that I was not in the proving business and theology cannot prove a damned thing… or a blessed one either. The Theology lesson was inspired by a legendary school chaplain’s memoir I once read, and it stuck to me.  His story impacted my story.   I used some of this thoughts and added a few of mine.  Wisdom is inherited more than it is the stuff of creative originality.
 
Listening for wisdom is one of the chief reasons we come to church.  In church, we tell stories.  The lessons, the sermon, and, even, the Eucharist are all stories.  God’s story is the root of our songs and prayers too.  When brothers, John and Charles Wesley began their outreach ministry among illiterate coal miners in England, they wrote hymns that told stories – hundreds of them.  They knew folks could remember song lyrics and they leveraged that fact to give God voice in people’s lives.  My daughter texted me this week that she remembered a corny old song we used to sing, and that earworm has been with me ever since.  Hymns can do that too.  When the great theologian, Paul Tillich, was asked to explain why one should believe in God, he sang the words: “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”
 
When Phillip met Jesus of Nazareth, he had an experience of meeting God face to face.  He could not prove it, but he told his story to his friend, Nathaniel.  Nathaniel played the recalcitrant teenager, and asked what good could come of Nazareth.  Nazareth was, after, a one donkey town, a long way from the big city of Jerusalem with its Temple and learned religious folks.  Phillip simply said “Come and see.”  Nathaniel did, and saw what Phillip saw.  He went from sitting under a fig tree to following Jesus for the rest of his life. He saw and experienced greater things, for sure.  And though some folks came along later and wrote the story down, he and his friends were the ones told it, over and over, to anyone that would listen.  We have the gospels because of folks like Nathaniel.  We have a church because of folks like Nathaniel.   They were not intellectuals.  They were not all that wise.  They missed the meaning of things with comic regularity.  But they knew what they experienced and they invited folks to come and see what they saw.
 
One of my preaching mentors once said that the Church is always one generation away from extinction.  He said that to tell me that preaching is not about proving faith, it is about showing faith and telling of faith.  On the pulpit from which he preached for many years, he affixed a bronze plaque that says “So what.”  We remember stories like we remember song lyrics. 
 
John, the gospeler is a particular kind of story teller.  He drops in images and connections form one story to another.  That whole bit about angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man is ripped straight out of the story of God coming to Jacob in a dream.  Jacob was a complete ne’er do well, but the whole nation of Israel grew out of him, his telling of his dream story, and his determination to do what God asked him to do.  There are lots of songs about that too.  John is not so much trying to prove something in his gospel as he is about connecting God’s story to our story.  We can identify with Nathaniel.  He is not credentialed.  He is not powerful or wealthy by the world’s accounting.  He never wrote anything so far as we know.  Most likely, he could not even read.  And yet, the power of his story and where it leads has urged us on ever since.  This is where we get the phrase “Faith is caught, not taught.”
 
While there are enough books of theology to fill a thousand libraries, that is not how we come to practice our faith.  The most valuable, most compelling, and most impactful aspect of believing is experience.  The plot of every story goes like this: everything was going on a normal, and then, something happened.  Our whole mission as Church is that Jesus happened, and that has made all the difference.  We are not destined to live for self alone, we are loved beyond measure, and we are welcomed into community live in that story, over and over, so we might believe it.
 
Today, we celebrate Frances Young’s 100th birthday.  We have a drive through birthday party at 10 am today.  Come if you are able and give her a honk and wave.  She was baptized right here at Emmanuel in 1921, and she has lived her faith, telling Jesus’ story in Sunday School here, and as far away as Japan, among people who had never heard of Jesus.  Even so, she calls Emmanuel her spiritual home.  She came here as an infant, and as she grew up, she saw Jesus through this loving community.  Just ask her, she will tell you all about it.   What a life.  What a witness.  She has a great story, and so do we.  Amen

Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Second Sunday of Christmas, Year B
January 10, 2021
 
Driving into work on Wednesday, I listened to the goings on in to the day’s news from Washington DC on my car radio.  Having gone to Seminary in the DC metro area, and later, living there for nine years, and serving a parish in the District, I have seen lots of protests, vigils, Inaugurations, and marches come and go. Our family participated in a few of them in our role as concerned and engaged American citizens.  Doing so was a good civics lesson for our children, and a positive perk of living in DC despite dealing with hopelessly lost tourists, hordes of school children on class trips, and regularly gridlocked traffic.
 
What I heard from the folks who were interviewed on Wednesday did not sound like any protesters I ever encountered.  They were impassioned beyond all reason, calling for revolution, and spoke of heading into battle.  I feared for those I know and love who still live and work there.  I wish that what I heard later in the day, about the storming of the Capitol building and the ensuing violence and destruction was altogether surprising, but it was not.  This is not to say that I have great skill in divining the future, all that rage just was rising way beyond what we saw in the worst of what happened over the summer.  These folks were not against something they saw as unjust, many were all in for violent overthrow.  The closeness of the election, aided by dysfunctional leadership stoked visceral anger, blame, and hatred.  All of this proved to be a toxic cocktail on Wednesday as due process, and respect for the rule of law was overrun, literally.
 
We must say, without political bias, that what happened was an epic human failure.  The various actors in the drama are not to be excused, justified, or proclaimed innocent as if such effrontery was, somehow, acceptable or necessary.  Seditious attempts, destruction, injuries, and loss of life were tragic and avoidable.  Before the dust settled, more blame, more baseless conspiracy theories, and more incendiary rhetoric continued to rise from the smoking crime scene.  Human sin had a field day.
 
We all play a part in human sin as none of us are holy, righteous, and blameless in our own fervent passions.  We can go too far, objectify others, and look past the worth and value of those we label as “them.”  We dare not go as far as some did on Wednesday, but we are not pure victors over the powers of darkness.  At times, we all struggle to be children of light.  Peace is not the absence of conflict.  It is the condition under which respectful conversation can continue.  Such peace perilously fragile right now. 
 
Piling on to the election angst, we are weary from months of lonely isolation, record breaking COVID infections, an erratic response, and death on a scale of almost 2 9/11s per day.  Tempers are short, anger is palpable, and hope seems elusive.  Perhaps, we reached an inflection point on Wednesday.  It feels like we hit bottom.  Perhaps, most if not all of us, will, finally say: “enough!” Perhaps most if not all of us we will refuse abide and allow manipulative provocation of hatred in all forms.  I pray this will be so, not just in the shock phase of the event, but in living into a new way forward.  Healing is needed and necessary.
 
In case it got lost in the headlines, Wednesday was also the Feast of the Epiphany.  This is not a footnote to the day, rather, it is an appropriate lens through which to look at what happened.  The Epiphany story has plenty of light in it.  The wise men come from the far east, following a star, believing that it leads them to even greater light.  Upon seeing Jesus, they are overwhelmed with joy.  Their wildest hopes of seeing God joined with humanity are realized.  We tend to use this lesson to encourage ourselves to look for God busting into our lives in unexpected places.  As Bishop Jennifer Brooke-Davidson said in a recent meditation: “the word EPIPHANY comes from the Greek and means, loosely translated, "Dang - didn't see THAT coming in a million years!"  We need to be reminded that Epiphany is not a one and done event from ancient history, it is the experiential affirmation that God is still working, even now.  When we are on the lookout for God moving, we see some amazing things.
 
At the same time, the Epiphany story tells of darkness lurking in the all too human will to power.  Before they find Bethlehem, the wise men find King Herod in Jerusalem.  When they inquire as to the birth of the new born King, Herod freaks out.  This is assault on his hold on power.  He asks the wise men to report back as to where they find this King, so he can pay him homage.  They agreed and departed, though certainly as wise men, they perceived the beady eyes and wringing hands of Herod’s duplicitous ambition.  After they saw Jesus, partied a bit, gave him gifts, and departed.  Being wise and discerning men, they heeded their dream’s warning about the despotic Herod, and returned home by another road.
 
Even though we are very near the beginning of Jesus’ story, tensions between the will to power and the contrasting Divine will to love begin to rear their ugly head.  This will play out as those wielding privileges of status and high office clash with Jesus as he reveals their hypocrisy, loves those they hate, and points to God’s ultimate Kingdom, Power, and Glory.  Jesus story takes us all the way to the cross: a shameful symbol that is transformed.  Not to spoil the ending, but God wins.  God always will, though it may be hard to see or believe in the moment.
 
Our present darkness is not radically new or different in long story of humanity.  When the will to power denies the worth and dignity of every human being, we see darkness swallowing life.  We are not without guidance and we do have hope.  If we are to grow through human tragedy, we are to surrender all pretense that we are in charge, seek God’s way, and find a new Way.
 
A lesson we can take from the wise men is that when those with great power, specifically political power, ask us to act in any hate fueled, unethical, or immoral way, disobey. Turn around, and walk in the other direction.
 
The unwanted but much needed Epiphany of Wednesday seems clear.  Hate, in all forms, destroys everything in its path.  Hate is not an acceptable tactic.  Hate is not acceptable as rhetoric.  Hate is antithetical to the God’s love.  God is speaking. To us.  Now.  Can we listen?
 
 
St. Paul gives good direction for troubling times, saying that peace, patience, gentleness, and self-control are signs of God at work in us.  If we are looking for guidance, the right people and path to follow, and join in the goodness of God, these are the qualities to seek.  The wise men of old followed the light, found the Savior, and left Herod to his own devices.  Now, with peace, patience, gentleness and self-control as our guideposts, with light of love guiding our way, let us walk each other home by another way. Amen.

​Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
The Rev. John Taliaferro Thomas
Second Sunday of Christmas, Year B, January 3, 2021
 
Trust your gut.  That may sound basic and cliché, but it is among the soundest advice I have ever received.  There is something inside of us that is intuitive.  There is something inside of us that guides us to see beyond the surface of things, to set aside mere self-centered things, and listen for the rhythm of what is good.  That something comes when we are listening for the Word of love, for the Way of God, or the Wisdom that some just call our Higher Power.  Trust your gut, but be sure to be plugged into the right power source.  This gives us a better shot at deep listening, holy hearing, and faithful participation in God’s will.
 
“An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him… When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child's life are dead… And after being warned in a dream. [not to go to Judea] he went away to the district of Galilee [to Nazareth].”  That is three important and revelatory dreams in just one short Gospel passage.
 
To be sure, Joseph is an enigmatic character in the Jesus story.  Luke and Matthew talk about Joseph and what he does, but unlike John the Baptist, the shepherds, the wise men, and Mary, the mother of Jesus, we never hear him say or proclaim anything.  He is a bit player in the Christmas pageant who has no lines. 
 
Let’s reflect on his predicament.  His fiancé comes to him with a wild story about meeting and angel and being told that she is with child though a decidedly unheard-of method of conception.  It is a tough story to believe.  He knows that the child cannot be his for obvious reasons.  In that day, a bona fide marriage happened when the two families came together, the bride was given from her family to the groom’s family, and the covenant between them was sealed in a ritual ceremony.  Then, there was a feast, sometimes lasting days on end, and finally, the couple retired together, alone at last.  Up to that point, they did not share much if any time together.  In many cases, they hardly knew each other.
As everyone knew the traditions, and as Mary began to show her expectant child, Joseph faced all kinds of shame and ridicule.  By law, he could break the deal, and send her away.  In Matthew’s telling, Joseph resolves to send her away quietly, and help her avoid public disgrace, though we are not sure how that could happen.   At the last minute, God comes to him in a dream, yes, a dream before the dreams Luke tells us about today (that makes four!), and tells him that the child is of God, shall be named Jesus, and will be the Savior of the world.  We hear nothing about what Joseph said, all we know is what he did.  He just hung in there, stuck with Mary, and believed God.  To be sure, there would be gossip, sideways looks, and all kinds of ridicule. 
It is phenomenal and intriguing that all of holy history, the mysterious and precarious birth of Jesus, and the faith fueled commitment of a precarious marriage commitment intertwine to change to world.  A couple of poor, vulnerable, and relatively powerless people, align with God’s power and what happens changes the world forever.  All of this comes about, comes from serious, gut trusting faith in action.
It is hard for me to believe that a dream could inspire such bravery and faith.  My recurring dreams are like the one where I have to take the SAT all over again and I arrive without my number two pencils.  Or the one where I have to take a final exam in Organic Chemistry and I have never been to the class.  I am not alone in having wacky dreams wherein the subconscious goes to work when all rationality is unconscious.  It is pretty obvious to us what such things mean as more often than not, those kinds of dreams expose our worries and insecurities.
The gospelers are not talking about those kinds of dreams, but it is the best language they have for mystic encounters with God.  What that are trying to tell us is that when we listen for God, when we seek what God desires with and for us, when we are thoughtful and prayerful, God can and will lead us.  Some call this God speaking to them.  Many of us doubt that God can or will speak to us.  But this is not the season of rationalization or logical explanation. 
As we consider the people of this world, and throughout history, who have followed God’s leading, generally, their actions are not self-serving.  Standing for love, justice, and kindness, caring for the lost, lonely, and those who are poor in all kinds of ways takes guts.  Doing so risks personal comfort, requires all kinds of time and energy, and can compromise one’s status and standing in the eyes of a material world.  On the surface, following Jesus makes little sense, but as we do, we fill our empty places, and find unexpected joy. 
As we believe into to the whole of God’s story, from Genesis to Revelation, and in the person and work of Jesus, we join with a company of unlikely folks who hear the rhythm of holy happenings as we watch and listen for that which God urges, wills, and creates.
This whole Christmas thing is not based on evidentiary propositions of assured outcomes.  God choosing to come among us all comes through the ordinary us, choosing to welcome God’s working in our unlikely, vulnerable, and relatively powerless lives.  Self-will is always something to check and filter when listening for God.  It is good to seek God’s will with others who walk with us in faith.
We can trust our gut as we see God acting, God speaking, and God moving as we go toward knowing in our knowing place what God desires.  Listen.  Hear.  The reason we do church is to plug into God’s power source: remembering the stories of how God comes to humans like us, believing that God will use us for good, and following the Way of Jesus.  As we do, we might lose the self we thought we were, but then, we will find the abundant life that God dreams for all creation.  Amen.