Worried and Distracted

            

Emmanuel Church, Wakefield, Massachusetts

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

July 21, 2019  6 Pentecost

             It’s good to be with you again this morning in Wakefield. And thank you for your gracious and warm welcome last Sunday. Frankly, with almost 100 degrees of heat today, I was hoping you would welcome me with a little less warmth! But here we are - ready to worship God, to sit and listen to what the Spirit is saying to God’s people, and to be fed at Christ’s Table!

I had a delightful time this past week with my dear friends from Ireland. I had worked for the Dean of Christ Church Cathedral in Dublin a few years ago, and Dermot and his wife Celia are currently traveling in the United States with the Cathedral choir. They started their tour in Washington D.C. at the National Cathedral, then came here to Old South Church in Boston, and this weekend they are singing at the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine in NYC. Despite the summer heat, thunderstorms and pouring rain, the Wednesday evening concert had about 200 people in attendance. With tears in my eyes, I sat and listened with awe and wonder to their music. It was heavenly.

Thank you also for some of your inquiries last Sunday about my grandsons and the Celtics basketball team. This afternoon, I will fly to Minnesota for a few days to be with my daughter and her husband to help them care for their 4 month old twin boys. Every three hours, the boys need food. Their diapers need changing. The dog needs walking. And Mom and Dad need more sleep and something to eat. I will sit and listen to my grandsons cry and suck and coo; and I will sit and listen to the joys and struggles of these first-time parents. I will also get up and do what is needed to help. I’ll go to the kitchen and make a meal, or two, or three.

In between working on things related to my vocation as a priest and a family member, I’ve also been listening to various comments about the Celtics basketball team. They’ve lost some super stars, and there are some lingering resentments. I have high hopes for the upcoming season and am excited about the new team members. No wonder I’ve been feeling a little distracted this week, a little bit like Martha in today’s gospel lesson; and yet, you know what they say, “if you can’t take the heat, then get out of the kitchen.”

 Last week, we heard Jesus tell the lawyer about the good Samaritan, the man who was moved by pity to stop and care for a wounded stranger lying on the side of the road. According to the story, neither a priest nor a Levite stopped, but Jesus doesn’t tell us why. The road to Jericho was known for its robbers, and maybe they thought he was a distraction, a decoy for an ambush by those lying in wait. Or maybe, like me, they were simply distracted by their “to do” lists, or perhaps worried about someone at home. I imagine them walking with their heads down, in deep thought or prayer, looking at their cell phones, and blind to the needs of those around them. Clearly these two men could have been worried and distracted by many things; but who knows? And who’s to judge? Not me!

 Not unlike them, or me, or perhaps you, Jesus accused Martha of being worried and distracted by many things as well. Now last week, Jesus told the lawyer to “Go and do like” the good Samaritan. Today, Jesus doesn’t tell Mary to get up and get going; but rather he tells Martha to get out of the kitchen and “Sit and listen.”  “So, which is it?” I ask myself. “Am I supposed to “go and do” or “sit and listen?”  “How do we inherit eternal life?” the lawyer asked Jesus last week. “Are we justified by our good works or by our faith?” I want to ask Jesus. "And which, exactly, is the better part?"

Joy Douglas Strome once wrote, “The story of the good Samaritan becomes the illustration of how (to) love one’s neighbor. The story of Martha and Mary (shows us how to) love God. Luke is (trying to) define discipleship for the early church, and these two stories begin to pave (the) way.” ( Xian Century, July 10 2007) Discipleship is a way of life that includes both receiving and giving, both sitting and doing. Both Martha and Mary are disciples; and today Jesus is saying that the only thing they need is to first receive God’s love and listen to what God is saying.

I must confess that we have a lot of Marthas in our family, all saints of God to be sure. You can find them in the kitchen, in our homes, at our desks, and on our jobs. As busy beavers, we are worried and distracted by many things, and so we multitask to get the job done. When Jesus says, “Go and do,” we can’t get going fast enough, that is, until we begin to feel resentful about the loads that we are carrying. Turning to Jesus, and pointing to a family member, we will say, “Please tell her to get up and help me." And yet Jesus may say to us, “Please, just sit down for a little while and listen to God.” This is the better part.

Our society and culture, indeed many of our families of origin, will encourage us to stay busy. They say that being “idle” is supposedly the devil’s playground, and being a Christian means being active. At times, we may feel unworthy if we aren’t helping like good Samaritans. We may only feel valuable if we can satisfy someone else’s needs or fix someone’s problems. And then there are those people who will just sit there and keep on taking, never lifting a hand to help, fueling our resentments.

 Fortunately, as this morning’s collect says, God knows our necessities before we ask and our ignorance in asking. God has compassion on our weakness, and mercifully will give us those things which for our unworthiness we dare not, and for our blindness we cannot ask. Jesus invites us to sit down for a little while, and listen to the voice of the Spirit, so that we know what we need, and how loved we are by God. Then Jesus invites us to get up and go, and to be good Samaritans.

Our family has struggled with many diseases over the course of our years together. We know about the challenges of alcoholism and lung cancer, mental illness and dementia. Like the prophet Amos, we know about lamentations and mourning, about fearful days and sleepless nights. We have seen our summer fruit turn into a bowl of pits, and have thirsted for springs of living water. In silence, we have strained to hear the words of our Lord, listening for answers to our questions, and looking for a balm for our wounds.

It is through both good times and hard times that I can relate to the story of Mary and Martha. When worried and distracted, I am reminded of Mary to sit at the feet of Jesus and listen. When I find myself demanding help from others, or begging for mercy, and when the kitchen gets too hot, I will turn to the serenity prayer, to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. I am also reminded of Martha, that it is good to get up and go, and to do something however small. I know how valuable the ministry of hospitality is, how good it feels to be warmly welcomed by friends into a home or church, and provided with food and drink.

Distractions and worries abound in all of us; and today Jesus calls us to stop. Stop what we are doing, and sit and listen, before we stand up and start doing once again. Anthony Robinson wrote that “the irony is that healing - whether of a disfiguring ailment of the flesh (like leprosy), or of diseases like alcoholism (or mental illness), or of a broken spirit (that leads us to despair), or of a crippling arrogance (that makes us think that we don’t need medication or help), always begins when we acknowledge our vulnerability, our inability to be in charge, when we encounter a grace and power beyond our own.” (p.9 Pulpit Resource, Vol 29, No. 3, Year C, July, August, September 2001) Our healing begins when we sit at the feet of Jesus; and our power to do something comes from God.

Initially, people may think that Jesus was saying that Mary is the better disciple, and yet this is not true. Rather Jesus is saying that everyone is called to be his disciples, and our discipleship will take many forms. It is not an either/or engagement - a “pots and pans Martha” versus a “googly-eyed listening Mary.” We are all diverse, multi-faceted, uniquely beautiful creations of God, who are called to receive God’s love and then to share God’s love in many and various ways. Sometimes we will go and do; other times we will sit and listen. “Don’t set up some abstract standard for how real discipleship is supposed to look,” said William Willimon. (p.17 Pulpit Resource)

Today’s story about Mary and Martha, indeed of the good Samaritan, is only a snapshot of our lives. If we watch our home movies, we will see ourselves leaving the kitchen in order to spend some time with Jesus. We will also see ourselves getting up to clean the pots and pans because someone else has done the cooking.

Today, be Mary. Sit down and listen to what the Spirit is saying to you. And then go and do something. Get back in that hot kitchen and be Martha. And do not worry. Jesus will give you food and drink for your journey.

Amos 8:1-12

Psalm 52

Colossians 1:15-28

Luke 10:38-42

The Plumb Line

July 14, 2019, 5 Pentecost

Emmanuel Church, Wakefield

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

           There are so many presenting social issues these days that I find it overwhelming to even think about them, let alone try to do something about them. There is the on-going humanitarian crisis on our borders and throughout our world, as people migrate from one place to another for various reasons. We have concerns about climate change; and the recent earthquakes in California were reported as a “wake up call” for all of us. When it comes to the opiod crisis and addictions, I find myself personally frustrated with this baffling and cunning disease, one that easily crosses all socio-economic boundaries and borders. Indeed in a recent survey, people were asked about the “very big” problems in our country today. The number one answer, that is 70% of the responders, said drug addiction.(Christian Century, July 3, 2019)

            It was the plumb line of Amos that brought social issues into sharper focus for me. I had been involved with a coalition of churches in Connecticut which had created a transitional living facility for homeless women and children. We called it Amos House, notably after the prophet in today’s Old Testament lesson. Amos had left the fields in his hometown of Bethlehem, where he worked as a shepherd, to speak God’s words of judgment to those who lived in Samaria, and the cities located in the northern kingdom of Israel.

According to HarperCollins Study Bible, the message of Amos is “direct and uncompromising. Over and over he announces to the people of Israel that, because of their social injustice and religious arrogance, the Lord will punish them by means of a total military disaster.” Indeed it was only 50 years later that the king of Assyria, which is current day Iran, began to aggressively incorporate both Syria and Israel into his empire. The conflict in the Middle East remains of concern to all of us even today.

Amos believed that he had been called by God to sound the warning bell, not just to the Israelites but to other countries as well. He told them that they had violated standards of international conduct. They lacked integrity, and accused them of religious corruption, exploitation of young girls, and prosperity for a few people at the expense of many. Amos spoke about the lack of legal due processes in their courts and the enslavement of people because of debts. You have forgotten your covenant with God and chased after false idols, Amos prophesied. You have neglected the needy among you. You are a self-indulgent society and this plumb line reveals that your lives are crooked. “Prepare to meet your God,” warned Amos.

            In true rabbinic fashion, the lawyer, a teacher of the law of Moses, was preparing himself for eternal life by testing Jesus. He asked questions because he wanted to be justified, that is to say, he wanted to be made right in the eyes of God and his fellow Jews. He wanted his plumb line to hang straight. “Who is my neighbor?” he asked Jesus, “and how can I inherit eternal life.”

            In addition to the plumb line, Amos uses four other images to paint a picture of God’s impending judgment. Locusts will come like a plague and destroy your crops. Fire will reign down from heaven like a lightning bolt in the middle of a summer storm, striking your boat in Boston Harbor and setting it ablaze. Your basket of summer fruit will rot and you’ll never see the time of the fall harvest. And then, in his final and most disturbing vision, Amos says he saw the Lord standing beside the altar giving orders for the total destruction of their people.

Are we shaking in our boots yet? Like the lawyer in today’s gospel, we too might start asking Jesus these very same questions. We might wonder, “What must I do, indeed, what must we do to inherit eternal life?” “You know the answer,” said Jesus. “Love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. And love your neighbor as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.

Not so easy, I say. It’s hard to love people when their behavior is unloveable, antagonistic, and destructive. When the late Fred Rogers walks into my room and asks, “Won’t you be my neighbor?” my response may be, “Well, that depends. You seem kind and gentle, but I’m not so sure about them.” Overwhelmed with the social injustices and systemic corruption of today, we may throw up our hands in despair and wonder, what on earth can I do, and what on earth can we do, when the problems seem so very big and we are so very small.

 Frederick Buechner once wrote, “If we are to love our neighbors, before doing anything else, we must see our neighbors. With our imagination, as well as our eyes, we must see not just their faces but the life behind and within their faces.” (Whistling in the Dark ,1988)  It’s hard to love people from a distance, when we don’t know their stories, their histories, their struggles, and their wounds.

 Like the priest and the Levite I have crossed the road many times to avoid someone that makes me uncomfortable. I have put up blinders so that I cannot see people who are standing, lying, or sitting right in front of me in distress. I have made false assumptions about people because I don’t know their story. Too often, I have chosen to hide in my room, in my office, or in my bed rather than face a difficult person, a challenging situation, or listen to someone’s painful story. I have erected barriers, big walls and little fences, so that they can’t get too close to me, because, for the life of me, I do not know what to do about them or me or it.

Amos said that it was never too late to change. We can avert the disasters that loom on our horizon, he said, if we repent and return to the Lord first, and then make God’s love a verb. We ask God to fill us with God’s love and show us how to serve. There are people lying in the proverbial roads all around us. These people, maybe they are even us, are people who have been wounded physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually by someone or a system that has robbed them of something. “Who is my neighbor?” the lawyer asked. And Jesus replied, the one that is right in front of you, the one who needs God’s mercy.

When Jesus redirects his gaze at me, I find myself squirming uncomfortably, trying to justify myself. I look at the sick man one block away, sleeping on the grass, with multiple layers of clothing in 90 degree heat, a shopping cart filled and overflowing with garbage bags of I’m not sure what, and I hear today’s gospel about the Good Samaritan and I cringe.

No, I will not go to him with oil and wine, place him in my car, and drive him to the local Marriott, where I will pay for his food and lodging. No, I will not even approach him and ask him about his life and his story, how he came to be on the grass on this side of the Charles River, rather than on the city streets of Boston. No, I will not cross the street to avoid him, or tell him that Jesus loves him, but rather I will look him in the eye to acknowledge his humanity, and see the goodness that lies underneath all those layers. Then I will think about what I actually can do.

The needs of this world are endless. While we cannot respond to everyone in our paths, we can take one small step closer to one person in need. If we’re willing to say “Yes” to the call of Jesus, to be a laborer in his harvest, we have multiple ways we can do that. “Keep it simple, silly,” I say to myself. KISS God, KISS yourself, and KISS your neighbor.

Offer a kind word,“I understand” or a simple apology, “I’m sorry.” Ask questions about a problem, show up for a vigil, walk for a cause, and listen to someone’s story. Give a little more of your time, talents, and treasure.

 Luke’s gospel is known for its focus on the forgiving and healing power of God as manifested in the person of Jesus. In the last chapter of Amos, the prophet assures his listeners that the day is coming when nature will be incredibly fruitful and those who experienced the judgment of God will see God acting to save them. Our Lord stands at the altar today, not with a message of impending disaster, but rather with God’s message of love and salvation.

We can see the judgment of God in the plumb line which we call the cross. Through Jesus, we have inherited eternal life, and have been justified and made righteous in the eyes of God. On the cross, we can see our Good Samaritan, the One who picks us up, heals our wounds, and tells the innkeeper to put the bill on His tab. Loving God for his gracious act of mercy for us, we can then love ourselves and our neighbors as God loves us. We can also make love a verb.

Amos 7:7-17

Psalm 82

Colossians 1:1-14

Luke 10:25-37

Our Common Humanity

             

Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

July 7, 2019: 4 Pentecost

             I’m delighted to be celebrating many things with you here today at Church of the Redeemer in Chestnut Hill. As a missionary and evangelist, and a self-described “free agent in Christ”, I find great joy in being part of different communities of faith throughout our diocese and beyond its borders. As St. Paul wrote in his letter to the Galatians, “For freedom Christ has set us free; and you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters, for love.”

            Speaking of love, my husband Paul and I celebrated our 45th wedding anniversary last weekend in London, where the Red Sox played the New York Yankees in that great American game of baseball. It was an historic event in three ways; it was the first time that American baseball teams played in London, 50 runs were scored in only two games, and one game was close to five hours long. That’s a lot of beer and hot dogs, a lot of peanuts and cracker jacks! The first ball was thrown out by Prince Harry and his wife Meghan, whose wedding was an historic event in its own right, not least being that our Presiding Bishop was the preacher.

 While we were in London, Paul and I heard a lot about the history of England - about all those battles that were waged over the centuries, “ both inside and outside the country. Evidence of World War 2 was pointed out to us in the stones of Westminster Abbey. In Parliament, we heard about their current political arguments. “Shall we shake the dust off our feet and move on?” Or do we remain in the European Union?

 There’s a lot of fighting going on these days, don’t you think? A lot of people are “picking quarrels” with one another for various reasons. In a recent Boston Globe article, Oliver Stone and Dan Kovalik wrote, “In two global polls, people ranked the United States as the greatest threat to world peace.” Indeed, the world continues to debate about which leader or what country is the greatest war-monger. No wonder there was such great controversy over the military displays of our power in Washington D.C. during our Independence Day celebrations on July 4th. (Oliver Stone and Dan Kovalik,July 1, 2019)

Not unlike today, the king of Israel thought that the king of Aram, that is current day Syria, was picking a fight with him. It didn’t matter that Naaman was bringing gifts of silver, gold, and garments from the Syrian king. Or that the king claimed that he sent Naaman in order to find a cure for his commander’s leprosy. No, the king of Israel was sure that he was being set up for failure, that the king of Aram was looking for an excuse to attack Israel. Tearing his clothes in fear and grief, the Israelite king assumed the worst. "Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me."   

Now Namaan was a powerful man in his own country. Like our own 4 star generals, he was well known as a mighty warrior, who had been victorious in many battles; and yet, he suffered from leprosy. When he heard that the prophet Elisha might heal him from his disease, Namaan asked his king if he might go to Israel, hoping for a cure.

            Like the prophet Elisha, Jesus was also known for his healing powers, and victorious in his battles over demons. Wanting to help as many people as possible, and not limiting himself to his own people or his own country, Jesus appointed 70 others to join him on his mission. He sent his troops out in pairs, giving them authority and power over the enemy. Offering no gold or silver, wearing no metal armor for the battlefield, these disciples had no purses, no bags, and no sandals while on their mission of healing.

“Yes, I know,” said Jesus. "I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. And yet, whatever house you enter, first say, `Peace.’ Cure the sick, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.'  The Rev. William Willimon reminds us “that absolutely nothing is said about the qualifications of the Seventy—their gifts and graces, prior experience, gender, sexual orientation, or grades in college. Apparently any qualification is beside the point, other than the call and commission of Jesus.” (Christian Century, July 2, 2007)

While we often think of this story as our call to be like them, my Harper Collins Study Bible invites me to widen my perspective. The number 70 may also refer to the 70 nations mentioned in the book of Genesis. How God created everyone and everything, including the heavens and the earth. How the waters in the garden of Eden were no better than those found in Syria or Israel. How Cain picked a fight with his brother and then murdered him. How wickedness grew so much that God regretted God’s own creation and sent a flood to destroy it.

 You know the story. Along with two animals of every kind, only Noah was saved. Guided by a dove who carried an olive branch in its beak, the ark finally arrived on dry land, and Noah built an altar to God in thanksgiving. Afterwards, Noah’s sons created many nations, indeed the 70 nations to which this gospel alludes. Initially, these “nations represented a temporal “tree of life” that included a magnificent geographical sweep, mingling cities, lands, and peoples as family members of one another.” (HCSB, p 16) And so it is today.

God knows that human beings are tempted by unruly passions and strong wills. That wars, hatred, and violence will continue to rage in our hearts, our homes, our countries, and throughout our world. Beginning with simple sleights to our pride like Naaman, or with fear like the king of Israel, we know that demons, death, and destructive forces are real, and that not all intentions are good.

Jesus knew that we live in a world where wolves are hungry for power and are looking for lambs to consume, that we are vulnerable to voices that will tempt us to fight, that people will reject us even when we bring them good news. “Go, anyway,” said Jesus, “and tell people that the kingdom of God has come near to you. I know that the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. So go, and speak words of peace in every house that you enter.”

I’m tired of the political battles in our country, and people picking fights with each other for personal gain. And so it was with similar interest that I read an article in this week’s Boston Globe. “Both billionaires, the leftist financier George Soros is an old-fashioned New Deal liberal and the Koch brothers are fire-breathing right-wingers who have found something to agree upon: the United States must end its “forever war.” In one of the most remarkable partnerships in modern American political history, Soros and Koch are uniting to revive the fading vision of a peaceable United States.” (By Stephen Kinzer, Boston Globe, June 30, 2019)

             For the love of God, what on earth will it take for us to find peace in our world? St. Paul’s letter to the Galatians was written during a similar time, when Christian Jews were arguing amongst themselves about certain religious laws. “His letter reflects a critical moment in early Christian (history), with St. Paul’s emphasis being on God’s initiative -  setting humans free from sin and the powers of the present age.” (HCSB, p2181, 2182) Stop fighting, St. Paul insisted. Do what is right. Work for the good of all. And, do not give up. Trust in God’s power to heal and save!

            On Sunday mornings in London, there is a Speaker’s Bureau in Hyde Park. Anyone can stand up on a soap box or a chair and offer their perspective on whatever they want, just like me today, as long as they don’t say anything bad about the Queen or use foul language. Last Sunday, we heard a Muslim man talking about the importance of respectful dialogue. “Whether we are a Muslim, Jew, Christian, or atheist,” he said, “we share a common humanity.”

Linday Hardin wrote, “Both the servant girl and Elisha helped Naaman to (heal) because of their common denominator: a simple and strong belief in a God who acts, and a God who heals. The unnamed servant girl had no worldly power—yet across the centuries, she has been a mighty evangelist, leading others, even her enemies, to God. Perhaps that is the real lesson today: that being healed may not be as complicated as we think.” And I would add that the power of God can work through any one of us. (Lindsay Hardin, Xian Century, June 28, 2016)

The life and death of Jesus was an historic event. After his resurrection, he became known not as a war monger nor the king of the Jews, but rather as the prince of peace. Eschewing hatred and violence, Jesus proclaimed God’s love for the world, and gave us the freedom to love in that same way. He calls and commissions every one of us to be freedom fighters, agents of peace, and servants of God’s healing power.

Your rector, in his sermon on June 16, called you “Holy Spirit people,” and St. Paul, in his letter to the Galatians, reminds us what the fruit of the Spirit is : love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control. Today, be on God’s mission of love. In the name of Christ, be Holy Spirit people. Remember that we are all members of the same human family, and that we all bleed red! Go Red Sox, and God save the Queen!

2 Kings 5:1-14

Psalm 30

Galatians 6:(1-6)7-16

Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

The Benefits of Suffering

St. John’s, Saugus, Massachusetts

June 16, 2019

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Trinity Sunday and Fathers’ Day

St. Paul’s letter to the Romans was written from Corinth in 58 AD and carries his gospel message to an audience mostly unknown to him. In it, he writes about the purpose of Jesus, God’s desire for reconciliation, and the gift of the Holy Spirit that has been given to us, which pours God’s love into our hearts. After leaving Corinth and going to Jerusalem, St. Paul stopped in Rome on his way to Spain; for Paul had sensed that his ministry as an evangelist in the Aegean region was completed.

As a self-identified missionary and evangelist like St. Paul, I was happy that I could be with you here today at St. John’s. I love to talk about the good news of Jesus Christ in many places and contexts. Like St. Paul, I have learned repeatedly how to trust God in all manner of conditions, and to rely upon the power of the Holy Spirit wherever I am. I have known good times and bad times, and the temptation to fall back into fear; but St. Paul reminds us that “the Spirit of God will help us in our weakness, pray for us, and intercede for us with sighs too deep for words.”

I spoke with Sarah last week and I am delighted that she can have some vacation time before she assumes her new role as a full-time rector in Haverhill. In our conversation, I asked her about you and some of your history, and I learned that her time with you has been wonderful, and yet shorter than expected. Transitions can be fearful times. In every transition there are losses and disappoints that sadden us, as well as hopes and blessings for the future that begin to appear.

I spent this past week at Virginia Theological Seminary at a conference intended to nurture our passion for preaching. It’s called “Deep calls to Deep.” Knowing that God calls us into deep relationships with God and one another, we are continually invited to listen to God’s Spirit. While our lives are a blessing, no one escapes life without suffering, and while some people will struggle with the concept of God suffering, I find it comforting. “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into the death of Jesus were also baptized into his resurrection?” St. Paul reminded the Romans that nothing can ever separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

 My God knows what it is like to be human and to suffer; and St. Paul claims that our suffering has its benefits. For example, it will produce endurance. Now, if you’re anything like me, you will want to run from suffering as fast as you can, or get out of its way as quickly as possible. We avoid suffering like the plague; but there’s no escape. Whether we like it or not, we suffer and we see the suffering of others.

 We must endure these hard times whenever they come and however long they last, not as victims on the cross but rather as believers in Jesus, with the victory of Christ in our minds, and the joy of his resurrection in our hearts. In March, when my daughter was pregnant at 25 weeks, she gave birth prematurely to fraternal twin boys, and our family endured a season of suffering. Riding the roller coaster of emotions that comes with having someone you love in the intensive care unit, we prayed daily for their lives, hoping that each boy would not only survive but thrive. Today they are each 7 pounds of life and growing well. This afternoon, I will fly to Minnesota to hold them for the very first time.

Perhaps you can see the character lines in my face. I know you have them too. When we endure hard times, it will reflect not only in our bodies but also in how we live. We always have choices. We can give up in despair, blame others for our pain, and play the victim, or we can learn to rely more deeply upon God’s love, and find the courage to change or to endure our times of suffering until they pass. We can choose our attitudes and actions. We can pray with an urgency that we neglected before, going deeper into our relationship with God. We can look to our family, friends, and our church communities for encouragement, support, and to help us remember our gospel story.

When we endure suffering, perhaps our hearts will be softened. Maybe, through our tears, we will see life more clearly, follow Jesus more nearly, and love people more dearly. Hopefully, we will speak words of love and offer small acts of kindness to others; for as baptized Christians, we promise to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ, seeking to serve Christ in all persons, and loving our neighbors as ourselves. With my faith communities, Facebook friends, and Caring Bridges around the world my heart is glad, and my spirit rejoices because I know I am not alone.

St. Paul reminds us that “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us.” He reminds us to have deep trust, indeed total trust in God. To the Romans, he proclaimed that we are justified by our faith in Christ, not by our works, nor by our achievements, but rather by our belief in the grace of God. Therefore we boast in the Lord, who gives us hope.

 Although we may have been walking crookedly, even bent over by the weight of our sins or the suffering we have endured, in Christ we become worthy to stand upright before God. When we have the mind of Christ, and listen to the Holy Spirit, we will find new life and a peace that surpasses all understanding. We can boast in our suffering because we know that suffering has its benefits; it produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s power is greater than even death.

Yes, Jesus gave us hope. The Son of God, who had not finished his message to his disciples before he was crucified, knew that they would not understand why he would have to suffer, and even die. Yes, Jesus gave us hope, because He promised that although He still had many things to say, He knew that we can only handle so much at a time, and that God will not give us more than we can bear. Yes, Jesus gave us hope, and that hope will not disappoint us.

So Jesus and his Father in heaven sent the Holy Spirit to pour God’s love into our hearts, and promised that this Holy Spirit would help us to endure our sufferings. In a daily meditation for young adults called www.d365.org, Erin Hutchison wrote, “When you walk down to a creek or river and look around, you are sure to find smooth rocks. Once jagged, the rocks slowly but surely become smooth under the steady flow of water. Rocks, of course, can’t object and walk away. No, they stay put, allowing the water to pour across them, refining them.” No, we cannot avoid suffering but we can allow the Holy Spirit to smooth our sharp edges and refine our lives.

Personally and professionally, I am on the road and in the air a lot. Felipe Martinez preached a sermon about the various ways that he travels.(May 31 2005 Christian Century) He said, “If my priority is to get to my destination quickly, I map out a route, get in my car, set the cruise control, turn on the radio, fly through the countryside, and stop only when absolutely necessary. But if the weather is right and time is no factor, my priorities change. I grab my helmet and off I go on my motorcycle.” At a slower pace, he is able to look at the scenery, see the signs along the way, stop in small towns, and enjoy a meal even when he doesn’t need to refuel.

            Martinez suggests that we all have our own “small towns” named suffering, endurance, character, and hope. Like us, he wants to get to the town of hope as quickly as possible. And yet, St. Paul tells us that hope is always present and does not disappoint us. We can always see signs of hope if we’re looking for them, even when we’re in the town of suffering. We can trust God, who created us, Jesus who saves us, and the Spirit who will guide us.

In a Taize meditation that I found on your website, the author wrote, “Although there may be shocks and even upheavals in our lives, Jesus is present by his Holy Spirit. He will always say to us: “Even when you are going through the harshest trial, I am present underneath your despair…and I am also there deep within your hope.” Deep calls to deep. Jesus calls from the deep of God’s heart to the deep of our hearts and inviters us to stop and eat at His Table today, in this town called Saugus.

Dear Christian friends in Saugus, maintain your hope. Whether you take the highway or the backroads, remember that God is with you on the journey, no matter which town you’re in. Listen to the Spirit. Then fasten your seat belts, and enjoy the ride!

Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31

Romans 5:1-5

John 16:12-15

Psalm 8

or Canticle 13 (or Canticle 2)

Chasing the Rabbit

7 Easter, June 2, 2019

Emmanuel Church, West Roxbury

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

            When I was with you two weeks ago, I talked about visions and voices, and today the writer of Revelation, whose name is John, claims that he has seen visions of Jesus and can hear his words. Today, I want to talk to you about your vision as a church community. I know that you have been in transition for some time, even before Father Edson served as your interim rector, or more recently with Father Voysey as your priest in charge. I also know that you are having a parish meeting next Sunday in order to discuss your current life together and your plans for the future.

            I want to tell you a story about a wise old man who lives in a desert. A young man comes to him with a question: he wants to know why people give up searching for God so quickly. And the wise man, like Jesus often did, told him a parable, which is another story, and if I remember correctly, it goes something like this:

            “There was a dog who caught sight of a rabbit. Because he was hungry, he took after it. Friends and neighbors heard his barking and, although they hadn’t seen the rabbit, they decided to join him in the chase. Night and day they ran after the bunny, and yet they weren’t able to catch it. Slowly, members of the pack fell away, until only one dog was left in the hunt, and that one dog was the one who had seen the rabbit.”

            I think our churches are like that today, are they not? People who have seen the rabbit, or a vision of God, are still in the chase. Whether or not they go to church, they are hungry for something, something more than what the world can give them. Perhaps they come to church because they think that the rabbit might be found here, or at least they might catch a glimpse of it, or a whiff of its scent. Maybe they come because they have friends and neighbors who are also in the hunt, and they’ve heard your barking, or smelled your good food.

This is the last Sunday during the Easter season, and this past Thursday, we celebrated the Ascension of Jesus into heaven. Depending upon your stained glass windows, you may have a vision of Jesus waving goodbye, or see his feet dangling below some clouds. Perhaps there is no image of Jesus at all, only the bug-eyed faces of his disciples who he left behind.

Today, we’ve been waiting a very long time for Jesus to come again in power and great glory. Today, we are left only with the visions and voices of Jesus that we read in scripture. The Easter bunny has come and gone, Jesus has ascended into heaven, and plenty of people have grown weary of waiting. They have fallen out of the pack, or have found God somewhere other than church. Some people never caught the vision in the first place.

            “Do not leave us comfortless, but send your Holy Spirit to strengthen us, and exalt us to that place where our Savior Christ has gone before,” we pray today. Now I’ve never run in a marathon, only a few 5K’s and one 10K long ago; and yet I know from experience that at times like these, life can seem like a marathon. Our races can take us through various landscapes; and when we find ourselves lost in the wilderness, overheating in the desert, or climbing heartbreak hill, we may wonder if it’s time to quit the race.

For most people, life is a marathon; and prayers are essential. We want comfort, strength, and guidance. Even though we may be running with the pack, life can still be a lonely experience, and prayers remind us that we are not alone.. Prayers can help us to tap into a power that is greater and higher, enabling us to do more than we can ever ask or imagine. Although we may lose sight of the rabbit at times, our prayers can remind us that the rabbit really does exist. Encouraged by a vision of God’s kingdom, we can run our race to the finish line, believing that a great feast awaits us there and we will hunger and thirst no more.

            Many years ago I attended a conference called CREDO. It’s an acronym that stands for “Clergy Renewal Education and Discernment Opportunity” and its purpose is to provide clergy with some time away for renewal, to learn new things, and to discern what’s next, not only for them as individuals, but also for the churches in which they serve. With clergy from all over the country, we remember that we are all connected to God and one another in communion, and in our common mission of chasing that rabbit.

            A vision, unlike our mission, is to imagine what the future might look like. For that hungry dog, he sees himself actually catching the rabbit, and then enjoying a tasty meal, perhaps sharing it with others in the pack. He satisfies his hunger, however only for a little while, and then off he will go again. Chasing after rabbits is hard work. It takes time, discipline, and training. It takes perseverance, encouragement, and hope. It is a labor of love and a marathon for life, and prayers are essential.

Now Paul had a vision to go to Philippi to proclaim the good news of our salvation to the people there. Before then, he was on a mission to persecute Christians and had been knocked off his horse on the way to Damascus. Temporarily blinded, he heard the voice of Jesus asking him what he was doing. Coming to believe in Jesus, St. Paul turned his mission into one of proclamation. He became an evangelist, testifying to the love of God and the power of God’s love as revealed to us in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Whether he was on the road or by the river, in a prison or in a house, St. Paul preached the good news of Christ.

After many weeks of travel, “Paul and his companions went outside the gate by the river, where he thought there was a place of prayer; and they sat down and spoke to the women who had gathered there.” Along the way, they “met a slave girl who had a spirit of divination and “she would cry out, ‘These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation.’ But Paul, very much annoyed, turned and said to the spirit in her, ‘I order you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.’ And it came out that very hour.”

Over the years, I have found the practice of prayer not only essential but also difficult. There are distractions that will demand my attention, slave girls who will clamor in my ear, perhaps speaking the truth, and yet still annoying me. These voices will tell me to forget about God’s vision, that I am wasting my time, and to quit chasing that rabbit. In fact, in times of distress or weariness, I am tempted to believe that there is no rabbit at all. I am tempted to join the crowds, and say, “Why bother? Let’s just call Grub Hub instead.”

            Paul and Silas had been thrown into jail for annoying others with their evangelism and ruining the money-making efforts of the slave girl’s owners. In prison, however, Paul and Silas did not despair; rather they spent their time praying and singing hymns to God. They still had a vision of God’s kingdom; and then “suddenly there was an earthquake, so violent that the foundations of the prison were shaken; and all the doors were opened and everyone's chains were unfastened. Terrified, the jailer asked them, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" And they answered, "Believe on the Lord Jesus."

Richard Hooker, a priest in the Church of England in the sixteenth century, once said that change never comes without inconvenience. A change does not come until a bottom is reached, a wall does not yield, a job is lost, a relationship is ruined, pews become empty, your foundations have been shaken, and no one is chasing the rabbit except one hungry dog. Earthquakes, whether they come to us personally or as a faith community, will force us to assess the current state of our affairs, perhaps inviting us to do things differently. A dog chasing its tail will never catch the rabbit.

I have seen the fragility of our faith communities and the ongoing challenge of imagining God’s vision for our future, and I don’t have any answers, except these. Don’t stop praying, keep chasing the rabbit, and believe in Jesus; for I’ve come to believe that resurrection life is not bound by our walls nor is it contained in our buildings. Rather resurrection life is always running ahead of us, and it lives in the hearts of those who remain on the hunt.

Acts 16:16-34

Revelation 22:12-14,16-17,20-21

John 17:20-26

Psalm 97

Orphans No More

Church of the Epiphany

6 Easter, May 26, 2019

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

 In 1995, in her book entitled Gospel Medicine, Barbara Brown Taylor wrote a sermon entitled “Family Values.” It was based upon a passage from the gospel of Luke in which Jesus is quoted as saying, “Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!” (Luke 12:51) She claims, that given the things that Jesus said, he would never be elected president of our country. Probably not the Prime Minister of England either.

Taylor wrote that “especially during an election season, everyone is worried about family values. People blame the breakdown of the family for the growing list of our social problems. If children do not learn about honesty, hard work, responsibility, and faith from their parents, chances are that no one else would be able to teach them those things.” (end quote) When a father criticized the church for not teaching his children about these things, I challenged him. Whose responsibility was it to teach our children about family values. Parents? Faith Communities? Our society? Who? And what exactly are family values?

Some days I wonder about us. We seem to be playing a lot of the blame game. We point our fingers at who is coming and who is going, in which direction they are leading us, and whose fault it is that we are in this mess. We speak words that don’t match our actions. We file suits and countersuits in a society that seems to have become more litigious; and so we frequently turn to our court systems for judgments. Welcome to the political, civil, and religious times of Jesus. Welcome to that time in 1995 when Taylor published her book. Welcome to our troubling times right now.

The gospel medicine for today is commonly called the “Farewell Discourse.” Jesus is talking to his disciples before his own court case, and Jesus is trying to impart some family values to his disciples over their last meal together. “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them,” Jesus said. “Yes, I will be going away, and yet I will also be coming again.” In the meantime, we’ll send you some help; so you need not worry. Indeed, you even should be happy.

I have a hard time with ‘goodbyes.’ Parting is not sweet sorrow for me, especially when people that I love die, or move, become a bishop in another diocese, or disconnect from me for one reason or another. At a very basic level, I feel abandoned and struggle with feelings of anger and sadness. And yet Jesus peacefully tells his family of disciples not to be afraid, not to let their hearts be troubled. In today’s jargon, Jesus said to them, “No worries. I’ve got this!”

I just finished reading an historical novel called The Orphan Sisters, by Shirley Dickson. In 1929 four-year-old Etty and eight-year-old Dorothy are abandoned at an orphanage by their mother, who had promised them that she would return. She doesn’t, and so the sisters are heartbroken by her desertion. Learning that the orphanage was responsible for them until age 15, the sisters promised never to abandon each other. As adults living during a time of world war, they also endured multiple losses.

Parents leave their children for many and various reasons, oftentimes with good intentions, and yet the effects can be devastating. Children have been abandoned at the borders of our country, and in their own countries, because of extreme poverty, political unrest, civil wars, various kinds of illness, legal battles, and addictions. Throughout our world there are orphanages overflowing with children who will not know the loving touch of a parent or hear comforting words when their hearts are troubled. Thank you for your ministry to the children in Honduras, where children are held in loving hands, learn new skills and family values, and can find peace and freedom from a life on the streets!

The disciples of Jesus felt abandoned by the death of their leader and feared for their own lives. Like some immigrants today, they huddled together in a locked room, waiting for the authorities to knock on their door and haul them away. But when it was evening on that day, on Easter Sunday, Jesus came through the door and stood among them. “Peace be with you,” he said. Then, after breathing his spirit on them, he showed them the scars on his hands and in his side.

Peace never comes with the absence of conflict; actually it can escalate when we try to avoid it. Indeed peace often comes only after our hearts have been troubled and our minds have darkened with fear. Anger is a messenger that hides a deep sadness of loss. Today, on this Memorial Day weekend, we remember those who fought and died for our freedom, defending the lives of others, and protecting our basic human rights. Peace is fragile; and so the peace that passes all understanding will come to us through the Holy Spirit, who gives to us, not as the world gives, but only as God can give.

“No worries,” said Jesus. “We’ve got this.” At that last supper, at the dinner table with his disciples, Jesus told them, “In the days to come, you will have an Advocate, a defense lawyer, who will be your Helper, and a Comforter.” After I am gone, “We will send our Holy Spirit to be with you, who will fight for you and also forgive you, because I know that you will also betray, abandon, and deny me.” I know that troubled times will remain, that peace is fragile, and you will need some help.

The Holy Spirit shows us the way of love and teaches us some family values. Through a spirit of truth, we are carried far away to a high mountain, where we can see the “holy city of Jerusalem coming down out of heaven” and where peace finally reigns. In Christ, we are told that we become a new creation, where trees bear 12 kinds of fruit, and leaves are for the healing of the nations. “For we did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear,” said St. Paul in his letter to the Romans; “but we have received a spirit of adoption.” In this heavenly city, we are all children of God, worshipping as one beloved community, with God as the head of our family tree, and that tree is the Tree of Life.

I am the grandmother of fraternal twin boys, prematurely born at 25 weeks old. Peter and Nathaniel currently live in the newborn intensive care unit in a Minneapolis hospital, where our daughter is one of their parents and a NICU doctor. The boys have had minor surgeries, antibiotics, immunizations, and endured many transitions. They are learning to breathe on their own. They are learning to eat. They are learning to live.

Born at two pounds and one pound thirteen ounces, they’re both five pounds strong today. As a family, we are deeply grateful for their continued health and growth, and for the modern medicine in our country. We are grateful for laws that protect them, and the privileges that we have in our country. We are grateful for our family and friends, and faithful people throughout our world, who have prayed daily for that heavenly Advocate, to defend them from all perils, to be their Helper, and to be their Comforter in times of distress. In the NICU, I learned about “kangaroo care” - how important loving touch is for babies, and how the recorded voices of their parents can bring them peace.

“Peace, I give to you. Peace, I leave with you,” said Jesus to his family of disciples. “God the Father will send you an Advocate, in my name, to teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.” This Spirit of God cries out in our newborn infants and people of all ages throughout our world - people who have been abandoned on the margins, people who are living on the streets or in cities destroyed by war, and people who are hiding in locked rooms of fear. This Spirit reminds us that we are held by the loving hands of God. Today we hear the recorded voice of Jesus, who promised us that we have an Advocate, who is the defender of our cause, our helper in times of trouble, and a source of comfort in times of fear.

In the Revelation to John, nothing is cursed. God’s gates are always open. Springs of living water are clean and flowing. There is no darkness at all, only the light of God’s love, burning like a tabernacle Lamp, shining in a temple that has no walls, eternally pointing to the grace of God. This grace is freely given by the sacrificial love of God.

The 14th chapter of the gospel of John is gospel medicine. It begins and ends with God’s peace. “Do not let your hearts be troubled,” said Jesus. “Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places, and I go to prepare a place for you.” Until I come again, I will send you the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, who will give to you, not as the world gives, but as God gives.”

Just as the Father sent Jesus, now the Holy Spirit sends us; and we have some family values that Jesus taught us while he was with us. Through the Advocate He feeds us and teaches us at His Table even now.  “No worries,” said Jesus to his family of disciples. “Be happy.” You are the beloved children of God, and our God will never forsake nor abandon you. So go, speak truth to power, love others as I have loved you, and remember, “You have an Advocate, We’ve got this!”

Acts 16:9-15

Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5

John 14:23-29

Psalm 67

Voices and Visions

5 Easter, May 19, 2019

Emmanuel Church, West Roxbury, Massachusetts

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

I am not much of a media person. I prefer reading books to watching television. When I am in my car, I rarely turn on the radio. At home, I relish the sound of silence. And so I tend to be particular in my choices about what I watch and to whom I listen. Occasionally, I have enjoyed the T.V. series called The Voice when various people compete vocally to become the latest season’s winner. I also love singing hymns.

This past week I learned about a relatively new media company called Vox, which translated from Latin into English means “Voice.” According to their website, “Vox's mission is to ‘explain the news.’ It strives to make sure its readers ‘understand what just happened,’ by providing ‘contextual information that traditional news stories aren't designed to carry.’ Vox creates ‘card stacks’ in bright ‘canary yellow’ that provide context and define terms within an article.” So Vox uses words and pictures to convey their message.

Now, Peter, in the Acts of the Apostles, has a vision and hears a

Voice, not once but three times. In his daydream on the rooftop, he sees something like a sheet coming down from heaven, and sees four-footed animals, beasts of prey, reptiles, and birds of the air. He hears a Voice telling him to “Get up, kill and eat.” At first, he resists. “No,” Peter says to the Voice, “That’s not kosher. I’ve obeyed our religious laws and have never eaten anything profane or unclean. No, I can’t do this.”

Have you ever known anyone who has visions and hears voices? I have. And I know that these voices can be the Voice “of God” as well as the voice “of the devil.”  Visions and voices can be signs of mental illness, uncontrolled by medication, or they can be evidence of a spiritual world that remains unknown and untapped to us mere mortals. Visions and voices break into our world and our consciousness routinely, while we are awake in our daydreams, and while we are sleeping at night. How are we to know if they are the way, the truth, and leading to life? How are we to know if they are from God or from the devil?

In the news some people claim that they have a vision of a new world order. Indeed, many of our political leaders promise to create social and economic systems that will benefit more people. Many voices tell you how you can live longer if you only eat this and avoid that. In Mongolia two people recently died of a plague after they ate a rodent’s raw organs, believing that it was “very good for their health.”

We hear stories of people who follow certain religious leaders, and have been told to get up and kill. These are terrorists who murder others through their sacrificial “acts of love” in the name of God. Some believe they will be rewarded in heaven for obeying this voice, and have visions of heavenly bliss. How are we to know if the voices and visions we hear or have been taught are the way, the truth, and leading to life?

 In the Boston Globe this week, Robert Pape wrote, “The immense power of social media has many advantages for civil society.” For instance, social media warned others about the man named “Sovereign” who recently killed one person and injured another on the Appalachian Trail. Social media is intended to be a vehicle for connecting people throughout our world, spreading news quickly to others who seek life-giving relationships and greater knowledge. “At the same time,” Pape wrote, “it provides opportunities for individuals to go beyond disseminating hateful messages to broadcasting murderous acts in real-time, in order to glorify themselves and inspire future terrorists.” We all know about “copy cat” violence, don’t we?

God’s vision for us is a civil society, where we live in peaceful co-existence and communicate through voices of love that build up rather than destroy. The Revelation to John, which is the last book in our New Testament, is social media. It was written by someone who saw visions and heard voices. Writing in a secret language, during a time of persecution and terrorism, John encouraged the followers of Jesus to keep their faith. He offered people visions of hope and a future redeemed by God through the love of Jesus.

In his vision, John sees a new heaven and a new earth coming down from heaven. He sees a new Jerusalem, not torn apart by religious polarization and violent attacks, or divided by walls and checkpoints. Rather it is a new city, built on a hill, which is united by love, and prepared like a bride adorned for her husband. "See, I am making all things new,” the Voice from heaven proclaims. "Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true,” he said to John. “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water from the spring of life."

Like Peter, who is reporting live from Jerusalem in the Act of the Apostles, John hears a loud voice from heaven saying, “"See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them as their God; and they will be his people. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away." Today, we call this a vision of heaven, and we call this the voice of Jesus. Today, we call this the way, the truth, and resurrection life.

Discernment of the spirits is complicated. We will hear voices that whisper in our ears that we are no good, that we are not loved, and we are not worthy. Voices of guilt will remind us that “if only” we had done this, if only we had said that, then our loved ones would not have died, or this terrible thing would not have happened. If we had kept our eyes and ears open, we would not have been betrayed, our media would not have been hacked, and we would not have been harmed. We hear threats of war, and we despair that our world will come to a violent end, and we begin to believe that death is our final act.

So there Jesus was in that upper room, a vision that we all have from our gospel stories. We see him sitting there at his last supper, knowing that Judas will betray him, and that he is about to be crucified. And yet, speaking in a voice of triumph and victory, Jesus claims that the Son of Man has been glorified, and that God has been glorified in him. In both his life and in his death, Jesus glorified God, not for himself, but for us. “I give you a new commandment,” the voice of Jesus said. “Love others as I have loved you.”

The vision and the voice of Jesus is all about love, which you and I both know is complicated. Although the message is simple, it is not easy. Jesus met Judas’ betrayal with acceptance and then forgiveness. “Do what you have to do,” Jesus said, knowing that God would be glorified in the end. God’s vision of a crucified king became our Christian rallying cry and an icon for generations to come. Justice and mercy have kissed on the cross, like a bride and groom on their wedding day. “Death will be no more” that Voice proclaimed from heaven; for God’s mission in Jesus had been accomplished. And today, we celebrate Easter joy.

 God makes God’s home among us even now. Since God has given us the gift of God’s Holy Spirit, then “who are we to hinder the works of God?” We are the Episcopal Branch of the Jesus Movement, claims our Presiding Bishop, and people will know that we are Christians by our love. “If it’s not about love, then it’s not about God,” our Presiding Bishop frequently reminds us.

We can hinder the work of God’s Spirit with our own denial, resistance, and silence. Or we can keep it alive with voices raised in protest against injustice, hate, and violence. We can keep the Spirit alive with voices raised in songs of praise, words that offer the peace of Christ, and by simple and small acts of sacrificial love.

The visions that we see and the voices that we hear in scripture show us both the realities of our human lives and the dream of God for our future. All people, all creation, and all creatures great and small, will be redeemed, and the garden of Eden will be restored. Unified, we shall no longer fight with one another. Sick and tired of being sick and tired, we shall be healthy and whole. God will wipe away every tear from our eyes, and put an end to all pain, mourning and grief. Adorned with white robes, washed in the blood of the Lamb, we will be saved by the grace of our life-giving, liberating, and loving God. In perfect harmony, our voices will sing together, “In Christ there is no east or west, in Him no south or north, but one great fellowship of love throughout the whole wide earth.”

We have God’s Vision for our future. May we always listen to God’s Voice; for this is the Way of Love that will lead us to eternal Life.

Acts 11:1-18

Revelation 21:1-6

John 13:31-35

Psalm 148

Fear and Love

Emmanuel Church, Wakefield, Massachusetts

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

4 Easter, May 12, 2019

            I have to confess that I am a coward, a nervous ninny, someone who was once called, “Little Miss Much Afraid.” Lori Gottleib, in her new book entitled, Maybe You Should Talk to Someone, claims that all of our decisions, indeed every decision that we make, is based upon two things: fear and love. (3503) For example, I choose where I walk, and what paths I take, when I am alone at night. Fear. I choose to hop on a plane to Minnesota first thing in the morning, no matter the cost, when I learn that my daughter has given birth to premature twin boys. Love.

            There are some very good reasons to be afraid these days. Violence repeatedly erupts in our country and throughout the world. Once again this week in a high school in Colorado, there was gun violence. Our children went to Sandy Hook School many years ago and so we are well acquainted with this kind of grief. Last month, while the news reported a shooting in a synagogue in California, our Presiding Bishop preached about the Way of Love during a Big Tent revival on the Boston Common. We all make decisions, large and small, each and every day of our lives. Love preaches Life, and fear kills it.

            Of course, violence isn’t limited to guns in schools and synagogues. In Christ Church, New Zealand, a bomb exploded in a mosque, while bombs went off in Christian churches in Sri Lanka on Easter morning. Afterwards bishops cautioned their priests to make wise decisions about whether or not to hold worship services, at least until things settled down in their country. Love protects life. Fear kills it.

As members of a beloved community of diverse people created by God, we come from all languages, tribes, nations, and people; and oftentimes our decisions are an odd mix of both fear and love. As a privileged, older white woman, living in a safe neighborhood like Wakefield, I shouldn’t have much to fear; and yet fear is real at all ages and stages of life. When my daughter delivered her twin boys at 25 weeks, I feared that Peter and Nathaniel would never know the beauty of life and the love of their parents. I fear that they are entering into a more violent world with people who fuel hate and exploit divisions. In my fear, I pray fervently that the God of all Creation will save us and sustain us, most especially those I love.

            Here we are smack-dab in the middle of celebrating Resurrection life, and yet we’re still surrounded by death. In the Acts of the Apostles Tabitha has died and the widows are weeping. Often used at funerals, psalm 23 reminds us that we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, and today Jesus talks about body snatchers and those who are perishing. Finally, Revelation mentions people who have come through a great ordeal and had their robes washed white in the blood of the Lamb.

Irvin Yalom names four existential fears that he calls our “ultimate concerns.” They are death, isolation, freedom, and meaninglessness. We are afraid of painful deaths, of dying alone, of losing our freedom, and believing that our lives have no meaning. And yet, Yalom writes that “our awareness of death (actually) helps us to live more fully - and with less, not more, anxiety.” (4017)

In addition to those random acts of violence, we experience death slowly: in our aging populations, with mental illness, addictions, divorces, and fears about this fragile earth our island home. We wonder about our future: How shall we live in the face of these ultimate concerns? Will we make our decisions based upon fear or upon love?

Underlying our fear and anxiety is this uncertainty about the future. Because I don’t like suspense, I often choose movies and books with happy endings. I want that blessed assurance that everything turns out alright, that the good guys win in the end. I want to see and hear that weeping may spend the night, but the wedding song of love will sound in the morning. (Hebrews 6.19) I want the joy of Easter to last forever. And the passage from Revelation tells me that it will.

“How long will you keep us in suspense?” the Jews had asked Jesus. “If you are the Messiah, then tell us plainly.” Now Jesus was in the Temple in Jerusalem for the festival of the Dedication, which is now called Hanukkah or the Festival of Lights. It is a time when Jews remember how they were saved by their leader, Judah Maccabee, during a time of Jewish political and religious oppression.

What I learned in seminary is also summarized in Wikipedia, that “great source of all knowledge.” “The history behind this holiday begins in 198 BC when the Syrian empire took over (Israel). King Antiochus III was fairly tolerant of the Jews and allowed them to continue to live according to their custom. However, in 175 BC, his son Antiochus IV ascended to the throne, massacred many Jews, outlawed Judaism, and looted the temple. Antiochus IV went so far as to erect an altar to Zeus in the temple and defile it by sacrificing pigs on it.”

            “Judah Maccabee and his followers led a revolt and were successful in recapturing the temple. Maccabee ordered it to be cleansed, a new altar to be built, and new holy vessels to be made, after which the temple was rededicated to the Lord. Pure olive oil, with the seal of the high priest, was needed for the menorah (or lampstand), which was required to burn throughout every night in the temple.”

 “Unfortunately, only one flask was found with enough oil to burn for one day. Yet when the Jews lit the menorah, it burned for eight days, when new oil could then be blessed! This miracle is remembered to honor faithful people who are willing to bravely worship God in the face of persecution.” Jesus went to Jerusalem, like Judas Maccabee and like many people today, during a time of religious and political oppression. His followers hoped that Jesus would lead a political revolt; and his opponents feared that he would. Despite those who warned Jesus to stay away, he chose to show up. Jesus made his decision to go to Jerusalem based not on fear but on love.

            While life is a blessing and a precious gift from God, at times like these, life can also seem like an ordeal. And so, we find various ways to manage the suspense of our own unfolding drama; and we have different ways of coping with our fear and anxiety. Who are those who have come out of the great ordeal, whose robes are washed white with the blood of the Lamb? Each and every one of us.

We make decisions about life every day based upon fear and love.

Fortunately we have guard rails and directional signals. Our scripture lessons remind us of our common heritage. In community, we are no longer isolated. We affirm our faith in the words of the Nicene creed, and we offer our prayers for all people. Despite our disagreements and divisions, we are blessed to live in a country that upholds our freedom of speech, and tries to protect our basic human rights. Trusting in an ever-present, all-knowing, life-giving, and liberating God, we can choose to live in the Way of Love.

When fear appears, I like to return to our salvation story in which Jesus has shown us the Way. In both the Old and New Testaments, we remember that we have a good shepherd who will lead us beside still waters and will guide us along right pathways. With generations of people who have come before us and who will live after us, we can affirm our faith in the God who creates, sustains, and saves us - even from our very selves and our poor decisions.

Repeatedly, we hear Jesus remind us, “Do not be afraid. I am with you always, even to the end of the ages.” And no one and not one thing can snatch you away from the palm of God’s hand. Yes, we know that death will eventually come for all of us, but how we choose to live today is quite another matter. We can respond with love instead of reacting with fear. Even as violence erupts all around us we can maintain our hope in the power of God and have faith in God’s promise of eternal life. We can remember our salvation story, how our robes have become white, washed in the blood of the Lamb.

Brother Curtis from SSJE recently wrote,  “The church has this turn of phrase called “resurrection power.” If there is “resurrection power,” we need to know this power not just behind us (in the past), or around us (in others), but within us, in our own lives, (even) now. You are teeming with resurrection power, and you need to claim it and unleash it as clearly as Jesus’ followers in first-century Palestine.”

Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb who has shown us the Way of Love. So go, choose love; for we know the end of our salvation story, and Love wins.

Acts 9:36-43

Revelation 7:9-17

John 10:22-30

Psalm 23