Sermon Blog
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Sermon Blog
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Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Feast of Christ the King November 24, 2019 The Rev. John Taliaferro Thomas After a gospel like that, the normal response is silence. When we read that on Good Friday, we don’t even try and respond. The two thieves on Jesus’ left and right at the crucifixion are bit players in a large drama, but in just one brief exchange, they reveal the gambit of human responses to God, and reveal less of an explanation of how salvation works than they do the pure grace that is Jesus personified. Today is called Christ the King Sunday. And those who have a problem with the relativism of monarchy, monarchical language, patriarchy, and all the worldly baggage that comes with kingship or kinghood call it The Reign of Christ Sunday. Whatever, of all of the traditions we observe on the churchy calendar, this one is a relative newbie. One of the Popes Pious claimed this focal point in 1925. It is the end of the Church year. We start over in telling the story of Jesus with Advent that starts next Sunday. I know, who has time for Advent when we are busy getting ready for Christmas, but that is next week’s conversation. Back in 1925, good old Pope Pious the wateverth, observed that we had seen plenty of the mess that the principalities and powers of the world had wrought on humanity. In the Great War, we had seen such great advances in technology that we had more and more effective ways to destroy humanity quickly and efficiently. We had seen nationalism provide people with great reasons to hate whoever was not on their team. We saw particular ethnic and religious groups being singled out as the cause of all problems. We saw a fragile peace, born of idealism, crumble and disintegrate in the economic and territorial power grab that forged unholy alliances. What started in the Roman Catholic Church caught on across the faith spectrum. For sure, it was time to come home, as it were, and acknowledge that there must be a higher order of loyalty and priority. Rather than running to kindred, tribe, and nation, we were pointed to the eternal Truth of Jesus as the one and only unity for humanity. And because we are loath to get that, we return again to Jesus at the cross, blowing up whatever earthly images of power and glory we misappropriate as celebrity and authority. It is a brief snapshot of Jesus’ last hour. The bit players are thieves: one on the right and one on the left. Various traditions have named them Dismas and Demas, but that is unimportant. What matters is their very human reactions to meeting God in a moment of desperation. The first says: “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us.” He raises a good point, recognizing that Jesus has the power to work wonders. But he wants a temporary magical savior, one that leverages his God powers to give him what he wants. We have all been there. We ask God to get us out of a jam, to prove that God is on our side, and alleviate our immediate need. We call those arrow prayers, shot to heaven to fix whatever vexes us. Such prayers tend to reveal more about us than God. Before Jesus can respond, the other thief snaps back. Recognizing that they are being duly punished for their crimes, he commends Jesus complete innocence, only asking to be remembered when he comes into his kingdom. Tradition calls him the honest thief. Anyone else recognize the irony in that moniker? Nevertheless, he is the one who owns his own fate and sees Jesus for who he is: an innocent, suffering servant. His prayer is not for earthly goodies, rather for belonging with the one who is pure love. Jesus replies: “Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” Lots of folks assume he is speaking to the one “honest thief,” – the one who repents, or at least confesses his guilt. But in reality, Jesus is speaking to the both of them, to everyone the cross, and through time and sacred memory, to us. What makes Jesus King of all is not that he hands out golden tickets to heaven only to those who say the right things, say all of the right things, or follow all the right signs. His words and his embrace are wider and deeper than that. What he shows and tells in this crucial moment is that we are with him forever in paradise -- not because of who we are, what we do, or what we say, but because of who Jesus is for all of us. We can show him to door, slam the door on him over and over, and even nail him to the door, but he will not leave us for dead. Good old Pope Pious thought we needed to remember that one and central fact regularly, so he slid in this observance as a reminder. Given the events of the past week, as our various elected officials scratch and claw at scions of earthly power, a good hard look at purity, true love in person, is important and formative. If we place our faith in whatever governors we believe or support, if we plow our energy into backing flawed humanity as salvific, we are bound to be disappointed. As we look to the Lord, the King, the Servant of All, none of the power titles really fit completely, but the person and work of Jesus is does: as real authority, true goodness, and all grace embodied. As we go to the Thanksgiving tables of our homes and families, may we keep Jesus in mind in our gratitude. We worship and celebrate our belonging not to a particular clan, but to a God of all: One who is crazy about us and for us. We are, all together, and bound for Glory. Then we sang this as traveling music…. Precious Lord, take my hand, Lead me on, let me stand, I am tired, I am weak, I am worn; Through the storm, through the night, Lead me on to the light: Take my hand, precious Lord, Lead me home. Amen. The following is a reflection from ME Via, our longtime Diocesan Convention representative on our experience this past week.
Good morning! It was my pleasure to represent Emmanuel at the 225th Annual Convention this weekend with Anne Dagner (Convention alternate), John Savage (the Chair of the Committee on Budget) and our Reverend JT Thomas. The theme of this year’s convention was “Wonder in All”. As in years past, there were many shared “Stories of the Diocese”. We have a lot of wonderful things happening here and all around us. For that I am thankful and grateful. There were also many reports and opportunities to learn about things that have happened in the diocese in the past year, as well as things that are still in progress. I am offering here an abridged version of the highlights. All the information will be posted on the Diocesan website – www.thediocese.net. Continuing with the “Wonder in All” theme, Bishop Goff’s pastoral address highlighted the wonder in light, life and joy. It also included a special video message from Presiding Bishop Curry. Wonder in Light Bishop Goff reminded us that Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” He lights up our way. In the light of Jesus, we are loved and his light shines on us - and on our wounds. This helps with reconciliation. There is a lot of reconciliation that is indeed happening, and there is more that is needed. Jesus also said “You are the light of the world.” Bishop Curry reminds us that we are light. How are you using your light in the world? Wonder in Life Highlighting the wonder in life, John 10:10 says “I have come in the name of life so that you may have it abundantly”. We are privileged to live in an area that has a lot of abundance – the beauty of God’s creation is everywhere. Our church family is all around us. Jesus shows us the wonder of life in seeds, water, and laborers who make things grow. Things we are privileged to watch in the agricultural regions around us. We must remain good stewards to make sure all resources are used wisely. This was also highlighted in Resolution 1 that requests discontinuing the use of single use plastics and foam as well as single use bottled water at diocesan churches and facilities. We have been given true abundance. Bishop Curry says that we know life and challenges us with the question “How do you share life abundant?” Wonder in Joy John 15:11 says “These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.” Our wonder in joy comes from things like meals with friends. Coffee hours. Shrine Mont family retreats. Helping at Bread Fund. Simple things in life. Our gorgeous earth and all its wonders. As we discover joy, we can face obstacles, disappointments and whatever happens in life. The church is the living, breathing body of Christ. He gives us joy to face changes - making joy the antidote to fear. As Bishop Curry says, we share joy. How do you know joy in Christ? Wonder in All There were many workshops that discussed a wide variety of topics and many helped highlight the Wonder in All: Planned giving. Communicating clearly. Engaging Parish property. Roles and responsibilities in a Changing World. Leading from Within. A commitment to follow Jesus thru The Way of Love. Rural Ministry and Language Diversity. We also had an opportunity to hear from Brian Sellers-Petersen and a discussion of his book Harvesting Abundance: Local Initiatives of Food and Faith. John 15:2 says “Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” Jesus wants us to love others as he loves us – abundantly. Be the light, have joy so the world can see Jesus’s love and joy in you. Also during Bishop Goff’s address, she announced that she will call for the election of the 14th Bishop of the Diocese of Virginia in November 2020, with an election happening in spring of 2022, followed by the Consecration later that summer. This will overlap with Bishop Goff for a while until her retirement in 2023. Bishop Jennifer Brooke-Davidson was also introduced and welcomed into our Diocese. The bishops that have been helping to serve our diocese were all thanked for their hard work and dedication. Bishop Goff will work to appoint a third part time bishop to live in Northern Virginia. The three other resolutions this year included the following.
There were three amended Canons:
I respectfully ask that you show your love. Share your light; share your abundant life; and, share your joy. Amen Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
November 10, 2019 The Rev. John Taliaferro Thomas It all started when I climbed up on the step stool in front of the hot stove. Grandmother Taliaferro gave me an oversized apron, a long handled wooden spoon, and put me in charge of stirring the gravy. She kept it on low, and while she cubed loaves of white bread and chopped celery and onions, I stood sentinel, assuring that the simmering brown goodness thickened, but did not stick to the bottom or sides of the pan. Even talking about it brings back the smell of memory. Her kitchen was spotless and efficient and I loved that I was the only one allowed in her domain. That started a life-long love of cooking that I have nurtured and studied ever since childhood. My mother says the cooking gene skipped a generation, and through the passing of generations, I have become the marshal of our Thomas family feasts. What this means in this season is that requests for the Thanksgiving menu have started to come my way. With a vegetarian daughter, a brussels sprouts loving wife, a corn pudding loving son, an oyster dressing loving mother, and a growing guest list of attendees from all corners of our tradition, the planning requires careful allocation of casserole dish assets, precious oven time, and the age-old question as to how to and when to cook the turkey. Brine and baste? Deep fry and crisp the skin? Stuffing or dressing? And then, there is the procurement and preparation of the best Virginia ham (and that is another whole sermon). The one unifying and absolute constant is my grandmother Thomas’s icebox yeast rolls. While everyone has their favorite dish, the rolls bring it all together. And that smell, that heavenly scent, is the perfect harbinger, the sweet incense of all kinds of goodness and memory. And yet, the rolls are the biggest challenge. We use the recipe from the stained and spotted index card written in her own hand. It calls for a ball of shortening about the size of an egg, sugar, warm water, yeast, and flour. The exact proportions, proving, and cooking times are a matter of constant debate and experimentation. The quest to get as close to what she produced with such ease and regularity throughout her life is illusive at best. Her light arthritic touch may have had as much to do with the perfect product as anything. We can imitate, and get pretty darn close, but we will never duplicate exactly the perfect browning of the outside and fluffy light insides. Be that as it may, no one requests biscuits or cornbread. Remembering is a key feature of this approaching season. Like all families, we are complicated and evolving, but the steady stream of sweet yeasty memories is like glue that attaches us across time. Like so many memories, the arguments and tensions of growing up and apart fade into the constants of a table gathering. So, we strike out again this year with hope and anticipation in quest for a more perfect yeast roll despite our distances and differences. When we gather here each week, we do much of the same things to bring constancy and steadiness to the vicissitudes of our lives. We tell connected parts of God’s story in relationship to all of us through time and space. And today we opened with a peculiar and odd ancient tale: back in the second year of King Darius, in the seventh month, on the twenty-first day of the month, when the word of the Lord came through the prophet Haggai. Haggai is not a prophet we know so well. His book is really short and stuck near the end of the Old Testament. For context: the great and glorious Temple had been destroyed, they had been carried off into slavery and exile in Babylon, and generations later, they have been allowed to return to their land and have sought to rebuild and reshape their common lives and faith. It would be like coming home after years to find your old home place in ashes and rubble with only a few charred objects to remember former greatness. In this setting, Haggai delivers an important pep talk. He them that God is still their God and that same God of their remembered glory is on the move among them. Haggai tells them not to dwell on the past with mournful regret, but to expect God to do a powerful new thing among them. In hindsight, we cannot help but hear this as foreshadowing the living God in Jesus Christ who is to come, and will transform the power and presence of God from being confined and located in a particular time and place, like a Temple, to a living and powerful force of love and grace that transcends time and space. That is a lot for an ancient Israelite to get their minds around, but there it is. The lesson is paired with a psalm of praise and hope, again, envisioning God acting in ways we cannot predict, contain, or, even, comprehend fully. The clear message is that we are not completely and fully equipped to understand God and God’s ways of constant and persistent creation. All we can do is watch and wonder. When the Psalmist tells us that God’s ways are not our ways and our ways are not God’s ways, it is an understatement. And while we would like to understand and know as God knows, that was never part of the guarantee. It is often said that life is lived looking forward, but better understood looking backward. The lessons for today from Haggai, from St. Paul, and in Luke’s gospel are all about that. When the Sadducees challenge Jesus about the woman who was married seven times and ask whose husband she will be in heaven, they are trying to play the game of applying earthly standards to a completely different plane of existence. Their literal demand is a trick question and stands in the way of their embrace of mystery and promise. Naturally, Jesus points to God being a God of the living: a living that extends beyond what we see and experience in the here and now, into what ancient Christian mystics called “the cloud of unknowing.[1]” All of these texts are the stuff of memory. They represent encounters with big questions at key moments, none of which make sense to those standing at the edges of something completely new and different. When we look back on them, we see a bit more clearly, but not completely. As we consider our own place and circumstance in history, it helps to look back to help make sense of what might be and what is to be revealed in time. Remembering is at the heart of sacramental living. As faithful people, we gather around the table of the Lord and affirm the feast of life. We tell the story of sacrificial, self-giving love that unites us in the ongoing life of Jesus among us. What we do is more than memory, though. In holding on to the essentials, the biggest of the big picture is affirmed. It is impossible for us to know completely what the present means and what God will do with what is happening now, but we know from looking back that God is always making things new, and God is always at work in God’s faithful people. Once again, we remember. We get around the table. We break the bread. We pass the cup. We do this to affirm the present presence of God, to quiet our fears of unknowing, and lift up our lives to hope. Amen. [1] Thomas Aquinas has a lot to say about this in his Summa Theologica and I commend his exploration of embracing what we cannot know as a lens to deeper relationship with God. Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
November 3, 2019 The Feast of All Saints The Rev. John Taliaferro Thomas Today is a day for hagiography. You know, hagiography. Ok, well, it is sort of like biography, telling the story of a life, but in specific, the lives of saints. Hagiographers are those who write and tell of great good people through whom God’s light has shined brightly. Today we transfer and celebrate the Feast of All Saints, it is a good time for some hagiographizing (I think I just made up that word). We can all name some saints, I am sure: St. Paul, he is a biggie and we read from his epistles most every week. He was a former persecutor of Jews who was knocked off is high horse, literally, and blinded by a great light. As his story goes, Jesus spoke directly to him and transformed him from professional persecutor to chief promoter of following Christ’s Way. St. Francis, we remember, came from a rich Italian family and just when established forms of money and property ownership were being codified, he renounced all of it and formed a group of folks to live together, serve the poor, and as legend has it, even the animals recognized his pure goodness. St. Nicholas, of course, is Nicholas of Myra, another rich man who gave it all away was rumored to have put money in the shoes of poor young women so they would have enough dowry to marry. That story is just a legend as the real Nicholas was an imprisoned and persecuted bishop in the mid-300s, but he is remembered for personal generosity, and that spawned a tradition we carry forward as stocking stuffing. In a cultural mash up, with help from the Dutch, an American poet, and Coca Cola, we get Santa Claus, the jolly elf we are already see in store blow ups and commercial advertisements for months to come. Almost all of the old school saints got to be called saints just because people remembered them and told their stories long before the printing press. The Church being the Church, felt the need to codify saint making around the 10th century. All of a sudden, a saint had to become a saint through someone making application, verifying something miraculous that set the person apart, and then there was an investigation and hearing and the final saint making decision was reserved for the Pope’s final approval. Then, over the years, the Church set aside specific days for remembering each saint until the calendar ran out of days, and then books of saints were compiled and the list grew and grew. The more superstitious iterations of Church used to hold on to relics of saints believing that they held some sort of physical connection to holiness. Thus, bodies were displayed, bones and organs were preserved and embedded into church architecture, and all kinds rites of prayers and remembrance were developed to honor their legacies. This is where we get patron and matron saint of this and that: Simon and Jude for lost causes, Anthony for lost items, Joseph if you want to sell your house, Fiocre for gardeners, Amand for bartenders… the list is long. Catholic Online lists 1,776 of them. Prayers to and through saints resides mostly in Roman Catholic Theology and when the Reformation came about, Protestants eschewed such practice as excessive and tending toward idol worship, believing that prayer to God in Christ is all sufficient and a more direct line anyway. Even so, if you want to sell your house, you can purchase a little statue of Joseph online complete with directions as to where to bury him in your yard for luck. The Episcopal Church, being both Catholic and Protestant takes a middle way with respect to saint making and honoring such people. We do have a process and a way to lift up lives well lived for remembering. We have a book called Lesser Feasts and Fasts with some great stories and prayers. The official line is this: Christ makes it possible for us to be saints as we share his life. We are washed, sanctified, and justified "in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God" (1 Cor 6:11). On this Feast of All Saints, we dig into this, and recognize that all people, all of us, are saints in the making. It is good to remember particular examples and thank God for them, but really, we are all a mixed bag of holiness and messiness and it is not a bad idea to affirm and celebrate when some of us get it right. However well intended the saint making process is, the practice of hagiography, saint story telling is such a better idea. Rob McSwain, a friend of mine who is a priest and professional theologian has just written a book called Human Holiness as Divine Evidence: The Hagiological Argument for the Existence of God. That is a mouthful, but made more simple, he argues this: The fact that people can do great and good things in God’s name shows us that God is real and present. While we make much or sin and its ravages, and while most of the news we consume is about chicanery and misdeeds, we honor God as we tell the other side of the news and recognize God’s light shining, even through the cracks of our own brokenness. God is breaking into the world in such moving and life-giving ways all of the time. The fact that we have to process saint making shows that we can be a little slow in taking notice. I have come to appreciate the last segment on NBC’s evening news broadcast because it is, generally positive. They call that last report “For what it’s worth.” I watch that news show precisely because that last word somehow helps redeem all of the mess that gets reported before it and give a little hope in humanity. In that broadcast and others like it, I remember the young boy whose classmate had cancer and lost his hair to chemotherapy, so he and his buddies shaved their heads so he would not feel so weird. I remember a woman named Osceola McCarty who took in washing for most of her life and managed to save $150,000 which she, in turn, gave to the University of Southern Mississippi to fund minority scholarships. I remember 94-year-old Shirley Batchelder from Franklin, Tennessee who saved up all of her bingo winnings and bought five seconds of network television air time to say three words: “Love one another.” And, she said it fast enough to be able to say it twice. “Love one another.” This past week I began listening to a new podcast about Dolly Parton. The series is called Dolly Parton’s America and I commend it to your listening. There I have come to know her genius, her generosity, and amazing capacity to forgive while succeeding in the cutthroat music industry. Did you know that her song, “I will always love you,” has been a number one hit in each of the past three decades? Did you also know that Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library provides free books, one a year, to children from birth to age five? To date she has distributed more than 126 million books. So, Dolly now goes on my list too and she centers herself on a deep faith to boot. Mark Twain once said: “I am a great and sublime fool. But then I am God's fool, and all His works must be contemplated with respect.” This is an apt reflection for this day. We may not be perfect, but we are being made perfect in the One who creates us, redeems, and makes us holy. God’s great art is creation and created humanity has such capacity for beauty and love and creativity. If we seek God, we might want to do some hagiography. When we doubt God, we should do more hagiography. In the end, we cannot prove that God exists, but we can tell stories, and that is more than enough to believe. Amen. |
AuthorThe Rev. John Thomas is Rector of Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood Archives
October 2024
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