Trust

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Lord show us your love and mercy; for we put our trust in you.

Today, I want to write about something very fundamental in our relationships. Trust. Our relationships with God, people, and things are based upon trust. It is often taken for granted, until it is lost. It is often assumed, until it is broken. It is so important that we even put those words on our money. In God we trust.

       Recently, I’ve noticed that many people have lost trust in our institutions. On the heels of our recent presidential election, regardless of your choice, clearly the issue of trust in our political leaders, not to mention our media, is at play. As a country, we’ve lost confidence in our political, religious, legal, economic, health care and educational systems. Even our family systems raise questions about trust.

       Trust is broken when we experience empty promises, false words, and harmful actions. Whether intentional or not, when our actions repeatedly don’t match our words, when reality doesn’t reflect the rhetoric, when there is gaslighting, people become wary. When we suspect that people’s motives are self-serving, we lose trust in the integrity of our relationships and our systems. Once lost, trust is hard to get back. Today the psalmist reminds us. “Put not your trust in rulers, nor in any child of earth, for there is no help in them.” (Psalm 146)

Our bodies are like beautifully crafted vessels of water, jars of meal, and jugs of oil which have been filled with abundant gifts from our Creator. Throughout our lives, we offer the contents of these vessels by giving some of our time, talents, and treasure to others. Sometimes dramatically and sacrificially, we may empty them in intense moments of love. More realistically, we often make choices based upon our income and expenses. Unaware of the tiny cracks in our human vessels, we leak.

         This process of life, of giving ourselves away, involves some choices on our parts. What exactly are we willing to give up? We decide to whom, and to what, and for what we are willing to give our time, talents, and money. We raise our voices and cast our votes. We decide how much is too much, and when enough is enough.

Jesus is critical of people in power who use their positions of trust to benefit themselves and not to help those they are called to serve. Regularly, and at his peril, he criticized the religious and political leaders of his day. “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.” No wonder religious leaders don’t want to preach today! Not to mention the peril of commenting on recent politics, and the time of year for pledging and giving  in preparation for next year’s budget.

There’s been a lot of talk about women this year. In today’s passages from scripture, we hear about two widows who made sacrifices. One widow gave part of her last meal to a stranger; the other put “everything she had” into the Temple treasury. Harper’s Study Bible says that the “status of widows in ancient Israelite society was precarious. They often had no means of economic support, and if they were not sustained by the king or by the religious community, they were quickly reduced to poverty and forced to become scavengers and beggars. Having no inheritance rights and often in want of life’s necessities, they were exposed to harsh treatment and exploitation.” (p. 547 and 1132)

In today’s passage from the Old Testament, 1 Kings, the widow and her son were preparing to die when Elijah arrived. She had only a handful of meal left in a jar, and a little oil in a jug. She was gathering sticks so that she could prepare a final meal for her and her son, when Elijah arrived and basically said, “Give me your last supper.” Understandably, this widow initially demurred, explaining to Elijah that she really had nothing to give him except some meal in a jar and a little oil; but Elijah insisted. “Give me this anyway,” he said to her. Then “after you’ve made my cake, you can make one for yourself and your son.” Is he tone-deaf? Self-serving? Unable to “read the room”?

Apparently, both Elijah and this woman revealed some level of trust in God and each other. Elijah had believed the “word of the Lord” when he was told to go to Zarephath and live where a widow would feed him. This widow must have trusted the words of Elijah when he told her that the “jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail until the day that the Lord sends rain on the earth.”

In the gospel passage from Mark, Jesus commends the widow who throws her two pennies into the Temple Treasury. It’s easy for the rich to give from their abundance, Jesus said, but here’s a woman who “out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.” I imagine she must have trusted her religious community to care for her, if not protect her. I imagine she believed that it was her duty to support the Temple.

It appears to me that both widows gave freely and faithfully, indeed sacrificially. There was something almost reckless in their actions. Perhaps they thought that they were at the end of their lives and had nothing left to lose. Perhaps they had learned to submit to their leaders and the laws of their religion and they trusted that they would be helped. Despite their vulnerability and fragility, they were being dutiful, displaying trust in their leaders to protect them. Or maybe, just maybe, they were revealing a deep trust in God who had promised “justice to those who are oppressed, and food to those who hunger, their God who sustains the orphan and widow, but frustrates the way of the wicked.” (Psalm 146)

To love God with all your heart, and to love your neighbor as yourself, does not mean to seek prominence and exaltation, but rather it is to be of service to others. Love is not about getting something, but rather it is about giving something. True giving, like unconditional love, is given freely, with no expectation of getting anything in return. There is almost something reckless, but deeply trusting, about sacrificial giving. It is a little scary, a little risky; indeed it is even liberating.

In Meditations for Women Who do Too Much, the author suggests that there is a direct correlation between trust and control. The less trust we have, the more we will try to control the people and events in our lives. The less trust we have in God, the more we will look to ourselves for self-sufficiency. Paradoxically, indeed counter-intuitively, the more we give, the more we get. The more we give, the more we grow. The more we give, the more we trust God to provide.

There is a great deal of mistrust, harsh treatment, and entitlement in our country these days. How is it then that we can regain the trust that we’ve lost in some of our leaders and our systems?

I believe that we begin once again through prayer. Like the widow, who gave her very last meal to Elijah, and the widow who threw her two coins into the treasury box, we can trust God to fill our empty jars, and provide our daily bread. We can ask God to repair our breaches and restore our systems. We can trust God to preserve our lives.

Do not be afraid, Elijah said. For with God, the jar never empties; indeed it is often re-filled to overflowing. And despite the promises of our religious and political leaders, ultimately, in the end, it is in God that we must trust; for God kept God’s promise of new life in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

 1 Kings 17:8-16            Psalm 146          Mark 12:38-44

 

Divorce

 

Church of the Redeemer, Lexington, Massachusetts          The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

            At the end of August, my husband Paul and I spent two weeks in Spain to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary, which had occurred in June, but because of previous commitments, we could not plan this special trip until the end of the summer. Finishing my commitment to Church of the Redeemer in Chestnut Hill, and wanting to return to being a supply priest throughout our diocese, I had also committed to officiating at a wedding in upper state New York on August 10.

Ask most clergy these days about whether they prefer to officiate at a wedding or a funeral, most will respond that they prefer funerals. You might wonder why. Well, there are a lot of reasons, some of which can be found in today’s gospel lesson from Mark. “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” the Pharisees had asked Jesus. And to his disciples he said that whoever divorces and remarries commits adultery.

          Talk about sticky situations. Some Pharisees, like today’s media, were testing Jesus on some critical moral issues. If we’re going to follow you, Jesus, then we need to know where you stand. And apparently divorce, like abortion today, was one of the burning issues that was at the crux of rabbinic debate at that time and in their culture.

Perhaps the Pharisees had multiple reasons for asking Jesus that question. Maybe they truly wanted to know what he thought? Or was this just a “gotcha question? Were they trying to get him into political trouble with King Herod, who had recently divorced his wife and then remarried another? Or did they wish to hear Jesus contradict the law of Moses so that they could charge Him with religious heresy? (Barclay’s p237)

As a rabbi and Jew, Jesus replied that Moses had allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and divorce his wife because of their hardness of hearts. In those days, one school of rabbinic thought claimed that divorce was permissible only in cases of adultery. Indeed today, in many states, adultery is still a crime.

The other rabbinic school interpreted the law much more broadly. Divorce was permissible for many reasons: if the wife “spoiled a dish of food, if she talked to a strange man, if she spoke disrespectfully of her husband’s family, if she was a woman whose voice could be heard in the next house, or just because he found another woman” more appealing. (p239) Let’s just say, given those guidelines, I wouldn’t still be married today!

Apparently this broader interpretation of the law had become tragically common, exceedingly easy, and dangerous for women, which is why Jesus was seeking to restore the sanctity of marriage for the benefit of women. Referring back to their creation story in Genesis, Jesus reminded the Pharisees how God had created men and women for a purpose. Marriage was not just a physical union but also a spiritual one, which should not be separated by human beings, whose hearts had become hardened over time. Joined together by God, they should not be broken apart by human beings.  According to William Barclay, “The real essence of this passage is that Jesus insisted that the loose sexuality of his day must be mended.” (p240)

          As you can imagine, Jesus’ words about divorce are not easily tolerated in our culture today. In most cases, men and women divorce their partners with frequency and ease, and for a variety of reasons, both honorable and dishonorable. When money or children or abuse or adultery is involved in the divorce, the situation can become downright ugly. Untangling previous commitments, even when prenuptial agreements are involved, become matters of the courts. Religious laws become stumbling blocks or ignored altogether.

 Now, as priests in the Episcopal Church, we are able to marry a couple both as legal agents of the state and as religious leaders in our Church. In preparation for the marriage, presumably we cover all the necessary topics that are important in a relationship. We talk about a lifelong commitment, responsibilities to each other, the hard work of love, and how marriage is intended to be a one and done kind of affair. Forsaking all others, the individuals promise fidelity to one person and are reminded that God is part of their covenant. Forgiving each other regularly, the individuals promise to soften their hearts when they become hardened by human sin.

          Weddings involve a lot of high drama, strong feelings, complicated relationships, religious diversity, and oftentimes some very difficult conversations. No wonder people no longer want to engage in premarital counseling. No wonder clergy prefer the simplicity of mourning the dead, burying the body or the ashes as well as the family hatchets, while proclaiming the promise of resurrection and eternal life. Let’s just say that God has a bigger and more explicit role at memorial services than they do at weddings.

          When our church was wrestling with the issue of gay marriages, I heard many of our clergy encouraging the Episcopal Church to uncouple the ministry of our priests as legal agents of the state from their religious authority in the Church. “Go get married by a justice of the peace,” these clergy will argue, “and then, if you want, come back to the Church for God’s blessing.” This policy would take away the sticky situations and the hard questions about love and divorce, about money and children, about fidelity and adultery, about sin and reconciliation. “Let the state take care of that unpleasant business and let the clergy be all about offering God’s love and blessings,” they will argue.

It is typical that our culture, for better or worse, is often showing us where the Church is headed. When individuals, whether clergy or people wanting to get married, bump up against religious requirements, or the policies and permissions given by our Church hierarchy, when it comes to deciding what is morally OK or not, what is lawful in the eyes of God or not, many couples and clergy just want to avoid the issues all together.

I read with interest an opinion article in the Boston Globe printed on September 27 of this year. The headline stated “Polyamorous relationships are a good thing.” The summary lines below it said, “Expanding our understanding of what kinds of committed relationships are possible and desirable will strengthen American society, not weaken it, particularly given that Americans are delaying and avoiding marriage like never before.” I’ll let you find the article and read more, and make up your own minds, only saying that these authors are encouraging our Commonwealth to be at “the vanguard of necessary social change.”

If a couple can just get a justice of the peace to put a stamp of legality on a relationship or relationships, with no questions asked, then isn’t that better for everyone? And who needs a blessing from God in the Church when you can have it offered by anyone and anywhere? Who needs clergy and the potential of religious judgment, when you can have a friend or family member do the nuptials and make it a party to remember? And how about those readings? Who needs an outdated scripture lesson that limits gender identity and eschews divorce? I wonder, what would Jesus say to us today?

There are many reasons in today’s culture for skipping a church wedding officiated by clergy. In this sermon, I do not intend to offer any concrete answers for you today but rather raise many questions about our human relationships and offer some observations about marriage and divorce. I’m happy to hear your thoughts.

The good news for me is that despite our rebellious spirits and hardened hearts, God remains faithful to us even when we are not faithful to God or to others. And so the celebration of God’s covenant with us is remembered in our Church at every Eucharistic feast, where Jesus is the groom and the Church is His bride. God welcomes everyone to the table in this sacred ceremony of love,  and blessed are we who are called to the wedding supper of the lamb.

 Mark 10: 2-16

Wedding Homily for Zoe and Scott

 The Celebration and Blessing of a Marriage

For Zoe Slasor Riddell and Scott Joseph Weatherup 

August 10, 2024 at 4:30 p.m. Three Timbers Chapel, Bay Pond Park

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling, Officiant

The priest asked the small boy why he wore this white collar around his neck and the boy replied, “So you won’t get any fleas or ticks for the next 30 days.” As priests in the Episcopal Church, we call them Anglican collars because they indicate that we are part of a world-wide communion of a Christian community. For me, it reminds me that God’s love is circular, dipping down from heaven to earth and then back up again, and swirling all around us. It reminds me that we can stand and face the world together, forming a circle of love that includes the whole human family.

In his revival sermon at our General Convention in June, our Presiding Bishop from North Carolina said that “love can save us all because love comes from the heart of God." PB, Rt. Rev. Michael Curry, GC Revival sermon.

Now some of us wear gold rings or silver bands on our fingers, often in our ears, and maybe even sometimes in our noses. These little hoops are not intended for pulling people into our own personal orbits however, but they are signs of our dedicated love for another person. They signify shared common values. They suggest that we want our love to be unbroken, that we will make commitments to forgive and forget, appreciate the other, and have their back. On our hands, these bands claim that we are right partners for each other.

Love is complicated, and the word “love can easily be sentimentalized, commercialized, and trivialized” said Bishop Curry. “But there's power in love. Don't underestimate it. Don't even over-sentimentalize it.There's power in love to help and heal when nothing else can. There's power in love to lift up and liberate when nothing else will. There's power in love to show us the way to live.” (royal wedding sermon 2018 Harry and Meghan) 

 Tonight's love revival is not only about this couple standing in front of me however. It’s also about all of us who are here with them. We have been invited here for a reason, and that is to be witnesses to the vows that Zoe and Scott make to each other AND to support them fully in the days and years ahead. Scott and Zoe intend to keep the flames of their love burning in life-giving and creative ways. So help them do that by sharing your love and support for them regularly. Be their partners on this journey.

Only God’s love is perfect; and so we dare not look for perfection in anyone or any relationship. We are all unique creations, like every tree and every flower, and not one of us is exactly alike. And so we can thank God that we don’t marry carbon copies of ourselves! True love makes space for the other person, allowing them to be fully who they are, a unique partner standing by our side and at the center of our life. 

It’s been a privilege for me to meet with Zoe and Scott this past year over Zoom, as we talked about how this ceremony might reflect the beautiful, good, and authentic human beings that they are. Burning buildings can go up in flames and can be reduced to a smoldering pile of ashes; while controlled burns can create new life. Tonight we’re celebrating the marriage of Zoe and Scott in a sacred ceremony, the beginning of a controlled burn! 

Zoe and Scott, don’t ever forget that God’s love is an eternal flame that never dies, a God-given pilot light placed within our souls. When your human flames begin to flicker, tap into God’s eternal flame of love and keep your fire burning!

Lives Worthy of our Calling

Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill            The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. (Ephesians 4:1-3)

Specifically, what does it mean to lead lives worthy of our calling? 

My HarperCollins Study Bible tells me that scholars actually believe that St. Paul did not write this letter. Rather, they think that it may have been one of his disciples who penned it after St. Paul’s death. They also believe that the letter was not sent to any one church in particular but was a general letter written to all churches, specifically to the gentiles. 

Our churches, our country, and our world are in a time of great transition. Changes are frequent and the grounds of our being can feel shaky. Unlike today, where Israel and the Middle East have escalated into war and violence, there was no singular event, crisis, or occasion that precipitated this letter. However, the author of Ephesians was calling this Christian community, indeed begging them, to lead lives that were worthy of their calling, that included humility and gentleness, patience and peace, who were bonded together in unity and love.

Another shift in the letter to the Ephesians is about sin. When we listen deeply to the Spirit, we can acknowledge some truths about ourselves, how we have been “tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming.” We can acknowledge that we have acted in ways not worthy of our calling as Christians. Whereas, previously, sin was seen as a hostile power, coming from evil spirits outside of our control, or from one country or leader against another, now sin was being viewed as individual trespasses. Something that was within their control.

The author of Ephesians had a purpose. He stressed that since the gentiles are now “in Christ '' they are no longer aliens to anyone, specifically to the Jews. Now “alien” is a buzzword these days; it is a trigger for so many people for various reasons. But the author of Ephesians is claiming that Jesus came to reconcile all people to God and to one another. There is “one God and Father of all,” the author wrote.

The ministry and mission of Jesus was one of reconciliation in a world of people who had become alienated from God and from one another for various reasons. In Christ, however, St. Paul had written to the Galatians that there was no longer Jew or Greek, male or female, slave or free. In Christ, we are no longer foreigners or aliens to one another. Through Christ, we can maintain “the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” We can speak the truth with love without fearing retaliation, condemnation, or imprisonment.

“One doesn't discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.” wrote André Gide. “When we've let go of our old certainties but aren't yet established securely in the new, we may be afraid we’ll flounder forever,” the author wrote. (Todays’ Gift from Hazelden/Betty Ford,)  If we stay the course, however, we may be pleasantly surprised by our new discoveries. About ourselves and other people.

I like change and I love pilgrimages; and so I have gone to South Dakota, Ireland, Rome, Israel, and Spain on pilgrimages to let go of some of my old certainties. When I walked part of the Camino to Santiago de Compostela in Spain, I was in a time of transition from Connecticut to Massachusetts, from a settled cure in one parish to becoming a “free agent in Christ.” Walking helped heal my feelings of alienation during this time of great transition. The Spirit helped me to have faith and not fear that I would flounder forever. From foreign lands I could see our country, our culture, my church, and various people from different perspectives. I was pleasantly surprised.

“Unless we let go of the familiar, the safe, the secure; unless we take the risk of becoming vulnerable, we cannot grow. So much of the literature of the world is about this very theme. From the story of Abraham in Genesis, the great Exodus from Egypt, to the great epic stories of the Odyssey, the Iliad, the Lord of the Rings. They all require leaving everything and going on a journey that will lead to a new life, a new identity,” wrote Brother Geoffrey of SSJE. (Journey, Brother Give us a Word, 7/26/24)

One of the things that I have learned over time, through prayer and pilgrimages, is to pay attention to what the Spirit is saying. Indeed in our more contemporary Episcopal liturgies, the scripture readings are not followed by “The Word of the Lord” but rather by the words, “Hear what the Spirit is saying to God’s people.” Clearly, to my mind, the Spirit is speaking to us even today, most especially in this letter to the Ephesians.

Recently I accepted a call to serve on the steering committee for the Friends of the Anglican Pilgrim Centre in Santiago de Compostela. After Jerusalem and Rome, Santiago is considered to be the third holiest pilgrimage site in all Christendom; and yet it was without a welcome center. The Bishop of the Spanish Episcopal Church wrote, “I envision an ecumenical place that would offer hospitality, learning, healing, hope and love to pilgrims at the end of their journey across Spain.” Responding to the Spirit’s calling, the Casa Anglicana was created; it is a place for pilgrims coming from around the world to be welcomed. It signifies “a unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”

Eugene Peterson translated the words in the letter to the Ephesians in this way: “In light of all this, here’s what I want you to do. While I’m locked up here, a prisoner for the Master, I want you to get out there and walk- better yet, run! - on the road God called you to travel. I don’t want any of you sitting around on your hands. I don’t want any of you strolling down a path that goes to nowhere.”

Since walking part of the camino in Spain 10 years ago,  I continue to take a pilgrimage every day, one step at a time, one walk at a time, one day at a time. Wherever I am. If we want to lead lives worthy of God’s calling to us then we will let the Spirit lead us, honoring our baptismal vows. “Speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together, promotes the body's growth in building itself up in love.”

In an article written by Wesley Granberg-Michaelson, entitled “Hungry for Physical Places,” he wrote, “I’ve come to regard pilgrimage as a journey with a holy purpose to a place of spiritual significance. Walking on pilgrim paths allows us to leave our psychological baggage and mental distractions behind, opening inner space for probing questions amidst changing landscapes. Questions like "Why am I?” “Who am I?” and  "Where am I?”(Christian Century (July 28, 2021)  And I would add, what gifts can I offer in Christ’s name?

We are all on various paths and at different ages and stages in our lives and on our journeys. In truth, our pilgrimages are everywhere, within these great walls and right outside our doors. When we pay attention to the Spirit of God calling us from the deep, we may not always be sure of our destination, but we can be assured of God’s companionship along the way. We can walk by faith and not fear. We can discover new lands, new ideas, and new opportunities to serve.

Given the gifts that God has given to you, how can you lead a life worthy of God’s calling? “It is easy to downplay the importance of lifting up our fellow pilgrims even though it is no small thing. We are powerful people! We can make a difference in people’s lives, for good or for ill. We can enhance people's lives when we encourage, support, and congratulate them. Today, make the world a little better by being in it,” wrote the author of Today’s Gift. (Hazelden Betty Ford, 7/26/24) 

Through the Spirit, with humility, gentleness, and patience we can be kind to one another and not critical. We can bear the transgressions of others with love as Christ loves us. We can walk, maybe even run on our own pilgrimages, playing the bit parts that each of us is called to play in this holy drama. 

Through Jesus, whose mission was one of reconciliation, we are no longer aliens, foreigners, or strangers to anyone. In Christ we are forgiven and set free to lead lives worthy of His call. To that end, every day we are invited to be on a pilgrimage, listening to the Spirit deep within us, acknowledging our sins, gaining new perspectives, and redirecting our lives. Offering our own unique gifts, we can become agents of God’s transformative love wherever we are on the journey.

Ephesians 4:1-16

Provision, Protection, and Power

 Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill        The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

On July 11, Brother Curtis, a monk at the Society of St. John the Evangelist in Cambridge, wrote this reflection. “Whatever kind of spiritual armor you need for your own protection, pray for that. It is a good way to begin the day. This is a way of co-operating with God’s provision, protection, and power to face the challenges of life with confidence and freedom.”

I have been captivated by the issue of power recently. Our Old Testament readings frequently mention the power of kings throughout the history of Israel and how they ruled their people with singular authority. And yet “when Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him their king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.” Why would he do that? Why would he not agree to the desires of these people? Just imagine all the good that he could do as their king!

Human power is imperfect and, as we know, it can be used for evil, ugliness, violence, and division. And it can also be used for good. Weapons can protect us as well as do unimaginable harm. Knowledge can bring us power and yet it can also paralyze us. Our media is powerful. It can lure us into thinking falsely or it can empower us to do good, to be good, and to act in ways that benefit others.

Psychologists describe our human reactions to threats and perceived harm by using 5 words that begin with the letter “F.” We flee, we fight, we freeze, we fawn, and we flop. Shots are fired and we flee. Shots are fired and we raise our fist and yell “fight.” Shots are fired, and terrified we freeze in our tracks. Or insidiously, we fawn over powerful people, outwardly acquiescing to them, while inwardly disgusted by their behavior. We flop in the face of powerful people and institutions, dropping our integrity like a bad habit.

“How do we deal with people who abuse their power in such egregious ways?” Joanna Harader, a Mennonite pastor and author, asked in a recent article. “In situations where I feel pitted against people or institutions with a great deal of power, it is tempting to simply slouch away and hope nobody notices me,” she wrote. (Christian Century July 2024, p27)  

When I was serving as a prayer partner with the young adults in the Life Together program, the leaders would often talk about their process. At the beginning of their time together, there would be an orientation to the program. Activities included some education, communal prayers and meditations, relationship building exercises, and expectations for their behavior. Learning to live as a beloved community in the face of challenges and differences was integral to the program.

            Naturally, disorientation would eventually follow. Scales would fall from the eyes of the participants as they realized that their leaders had clay feet, their roommates were not just different but difficult, and the institutions that they championed were broken and faulty. “It is easy to feel disappointed, even disoriented, when we find out that our would-be heroes aren’t so heroic after all,” wrote Joanna Harader. (Xian Century, p27, July 2024)

                Today’s gospel passage from St. John is well known for a variety of reasons, most notably that it is the only miracle story that appears in all four gospels. Interpretations by preachers and teachers often begin with the basic premise that God works miracles through Jesus. Literally, God’s power multiplies the fishes and loaves of bread for the crowd. Metaphorically, it echoes the early church’s communion liturgy, where bread is taken, blessed, broken, and given. Spiritually, the gospel story assures us that God’s power will provide for us, protect us, and feed us every day.

            One of my favorite stories is about a mother and her son who would go to the rail to receive communion. Because her son was not yet baptized, the mother would not let her son receive communion. Sunday after Sunday this is what occurred, until the little boy’s disappointment surfaced. When the priest walked by him that morning once again, the boy looked up at him and loudly declared, “You’re not sharing!”

            So an oft repeated interpretation of today’s feeding of the 5000 is a moral one. Sharing is caring, and this little boy in today’s gospel story was willing to share his meager meal with everyone. Because of his example, others in the crowd began to pull out their own little lunch boxes and share their food with others. Presumably, anyone who is listening to this story is shamed into letting go of some of their own stash.

However, “while such an interpretation may explain what happened, it diminishes the story by downplaying the miraculous aspect. God is no longer a miracle-worker unbounded by human laws, but a social manipulator who reminds people to share,” wrote Karen Marie Yust. Indeed, “God is reduced to a divine therapist counseling charity among greedy people, an omnipresent social worker reminding us of our duties,” she added.  (Karen Marie Yust, Feasting, p286)

                God knows that we need some behavioral modification these days. We need to tone down our political rhetoric, lower the temperature of our debates, stop the hate-speech, and refrain from violence in all its forms. We need to think less about the scarcity in our personal lives and more about the abundance in our communities. We need to see the power of God that surpasses all our understanding, and enables us to do more than we can ask or imagine. Empowered by God, we can not only see miracles but we can also work miracles.

            Overwhelmed by despair, like the disciples in today’s gospel story, we may shrug our shoulders in the face of such overwhelming human need, and argue that we are not enough, slouching away and hoping no one notices. It cannot be ignored that at many times in our lives we shall feel powerless. However, we do have the power to change our attitudes, and be grateful. We can change our thinking, our feelings, and our behavior. Or as Brother Curtis said, we can pray daily, “co-operating with God’s provision, protection, and power to face the challenges of life with confidence and freedom.”

            How can we face the challenges of life with confidence and freedom? By remembering that we are all passing through things that are temporal and by not losing sight of things that are eternal. When we remember the “height, depth, width, and length” of God’s love, we have entered into the spiritual realm of the saints.

            “Love is power that can save us,” wrote Presiding Bishop Curry. “Don't underestimate it. Don't even over-sentimentalize it. There is power in love to help and heal when nothing else can. There's power in love to lift up and liberate when nothing else will. There's power in love to show us the way to live,” he preached. Love can move swiftly, crossing boundaries and borders, to bring us peace and prosperity. It can multiply like the fishes and loves in today’s gospel story.

Why doesn’t Jesus want to be king? Maybe it’s because he knows the temptations that human powers can offer and He wants to remain fully connected to the power of God. Maybe that’s why he quickly withdraws to the mountain by himself. There He can reconnect with God without the voices of his disciples or the crowds around him, whispering, demanding, and encouraging him to be their king. Jesus was on a different mission. He had a different agenda.

Put on the whole armor of God, St. Paul wrote in his letter to the Ephesians. “Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. For God’s power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly more than we can ask or imagine.”

Diseases and demons, bullets and bullies, can kill us which is why we need to wear this spiritual armor every day. “Whatever kind of spiritual armor you need for your own protection, pray for that. It is a good way to begin the day”, wrote Brother Curtis. And our secret service, which is the Spirit of God, will protect us with a divine power that is beyond our human understanding and will raise us to new life. Now that is a miracle.

 Ephesians 3:14-21        John 6:1-21

 

Listen!

           Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill            The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

 

Our General Convention for the Episcopal Church in the United States recently wrapped up in Louisville, Kentucky. Based upon our national political system, we have two houses: the House of Bishops and the House of Deputies, which includes both clergy and lay delegates. The big news coming out of our Convention this year was the election of our new Presiding Bishop, the Rt. Rev. Sean Rowe, whose message is one of change. Already, he has chosen to eschew a large and costly celebration at the National Cathedral in Washington D.C., and will begin his term in November after a simple ceremony in New York City.

It was also time at our General Convention to listen once again to our current Presiding Bishop, the Rt. Rev. Michael Curry, who is famous for his sermons about God’s love. In the revival worship service at the beginning of our Convention, Curry said, “Love can save us all. Love comes from the heart of God. This revival is not about what church you go to. It’s not about whether you are liberal or conservative. It’s not about whether you are Republican, Independent, or Democrat. Love is an equal opportunity employer. Love is bipartisan. Love is interreligious. Because love comes from God and love knows no bounds." PB, Rt. Rev. Michael Curry, GC Revival sermon, 6/25/24)

The Episcopal Church, while not known for its revival worship services, is known for being a big tent. Within this tent, we can find people coming from various religious backgrounds, perhaps looking for something different from the tradition they knew as a child, or perhaps looking for a tradition that is familiar. People come to listen to scripture, sermons, music, and each other.

When Jesus went home, after his whirlwind tour of calming the storms, healing the sick, feeding the hungry, and raising the dead, he was invited to speak in his hometown synagogue. The people were initially astounded at his teaching. They knew he hadn’t graduated from the local elite university, nor the famous rabbinical school for young men in his city. Instead he was showing a wisdom and power that was unaccounted for, and certainly not officially given to him by their leaders.

Jesus was just a carpenter who had become known as a rabbi with a small band of disciples trailing after him, hoping to pick up a few crumbs of his power and his knowledge. Today we may call them “groupies.” But there in Nazareth, Jesus was known as Mary’s son, and the brother of James, Joses, Judas, and Simon. And his sisters were there with him, perhaps modestly hanging back at a distance, proud of their big brother.

The people of Nazareth saw him as the local boy who had done well. And yet, there was no mention of his father in this gospel passage. Based upon the reaction of the leaders in the synagogue, some people have interpreted their questions about Jesus as slurs. Yes, he was a bona fide Jew, based upon his mother’s lineage, but who was his father? And where was he now? How is it that Jesus had the chutzpah to say and do all these things without their approval? And so they took offense at him.

The people who gathered that morning in the synagogue in Nazareth were expecting someone who would comfort them, not challenge them. And while St. Mark doesn’t tell us what Jesus said specifically, he does tell us that the people were offended. Rather than taking his teaching as an opportunity to understand God in new and different ways, they closed their minds and rejected Jesus. They refused to listen to him.

Power is an interesting animal or perhaps I should say an interesting temptation. Barbara Brown Taylor claims that our Church and our nation “have our own channels of power clearly marked and we are suspicious of people who operate outside of them. We believe we know what is right and what is wrong and we do not welcome anyone who challenges our beliefs.”(107, Bread of Angels) People who are ideologically, spiritually, and politically different from us are thorns in our flesh; and they keep poking us and afflicting us. So we take offense at them, refuse to listen to them, and like St. Paul, we beg God to remove them.

Barbara Brown Taylor also argues that God purposely sends people into our lives to shake us up. “God is always sending us people to disturb us - to wake us up, to yank our chains, to set us on fire - because the worst thing that can happen to us, religiously speaking, is for us to hold perfectly still without changing anything until we turn into fossils.” (107, Bread of Angels)  And so God sends us prophets like Ezekiel, St. Paul, and Jesus to speak truth to power, to afflict the comfortable, and to help us change and become better versions of ourselves. To help us become more faithful people.

God calls the people of Israel impudent and stubborn. Ezekiel calls them a “rebellious house.” When I’m being stubborn, I find myself digging in my heels, refusing to concede my points, justifying that I am right and they are wrong. And then someone comes along, or something happens to me, and a light begins to creep into my dark and closed mind. Or standing in the “hot mess” that I created, I look back and reflect on where I went wrong. I begin to see and understand life differently. I listen more attentively.

Eugene Petersen wrote a more contemporary version of the Bible which he called The Message. He translated part of today’s passage with these words: “On the Sabbath, Jesus gave a lecture in the meeting place. He made a real hit, impressing everyone. But in the next breath they were cutting him down. He couldn’t get over their stubbornness.”

Prophets appear like thorns in our flesh frequently. They call us back to a more faithful relationship with God, and a better way of living, and they are routinely ignored and rejected. Jesus was a prophet, who saw the stubbornness of God’s people in  his hometown. He knows what it is like to be a prophet without honor. He knows what it is like to have people laugh at him, disparage him, and reject him. And yet he carried on.

Have you ever been rejected? They say, “You’re too much of this, or too little of that.” It’s painful when someone rejects what we say, or what we have to offer, or what we believe. Many people are afraid of sharing their power and so they reject us. But Jesus’ response to the leaders in Nazareth is interesting. He doesn't invoke God’s fiery wrath to come down from heaven and torch the people who have rejected him. He doesn't curse them or even take offense at them. He just marvels at their unbelief. And then he moves on.

“Our differences may in fact bring us life,” said Barbara Brown Taylor, “if only we can manage to unstop our ears and listen to each other. If we cannot, then we should not be surprised if Jesus leaves us to go shine his light somewhere else.” (p108)

St. Paul was rejected repeatedly by his Jewish colleagues after coming to believe that Jesus was the Son of God. He was rejected by pagans, Romans, Greeks, and all sorts of people in power. Often persecuted and imprisoned, St. Paul didn’t stop proclaiming the good news about Christ, however. Although we don’t know exactly what that thorn was, St. Paul came to believe that it was a blessing. That thorn kept him from thinking too highly of himself. That thorn reminded him that his power came from God alone. That thorn reminded him that whenever he was weak he could find his strength in God.

After Jesus left his hometown, he immediately commissioned his disciples to go out two by two, giving them authority and power over unclean spirits. You see, Jesus shared his power and God’s power with others. He co-missioned his disciples for ministry. He told them, if people don’t listen to you, if they reject you, then just dust off your feet and move on. There are plenty of people who will need God’s healing power and love and who will listen to your message. Indeed, St. Mark wrote that after that, these disciples cast out demons and cured many people who were sick.

As the story of Jesus unfolds in the gospel of St. Mark, we repeatedly hear that Jesus was rejected not only by the powerful religious and political leaders of his day but also by his family and even his own disciples. And yet Jesus didn’t stop his mission of teaching and preaching about the power of God’s love. Like our current Presiding Bishop once said, “It’s not about us and our power or human affiliations. It’s all about the power of God’s love which will save us.”

The Spirit of God invites us to open our ears, our minds, and our hearts to God’s power and love as revealed in the person of Jesus. Don’t take offense; just listen to what He has to say and then go be a part of his mission and ministry.

Ezekiel 2:1-5            2 Corinthians 12:2-10        Mark 6:1-13

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Miracles

 Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill                        The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

 Mike and I frequently offer a blessing at the end of our liturgy which has been attributed to the Swiss moral philosopher, poet, and critic named Henri-Frederic Amiel, who lost his parents at a very young age. The words of the blessing go something like this: “Life is short. And we do not have too much time to gladden the hearts of those who travel the way with us. So, be swift to love and make haste to be kind.”

The Wisdom of Solomon is part of the apocryphal or deuterocanonical books of the Old Testament, which is also known as the Hebrew scriptures. It is like the book of Ecclesiastes (6:12), whose author wrote, “Life is short and meaningless, and it fades away like a shadow. Who knows what is best for us? Who knows what will happen after we are gone?” Similarly, the Wisdom of Solomon addresses these very same issues of life and death; however this author has some answers for Ecclesiastes’ questions.

“God did not make death, and God does not delight in the death of the living,” wrote the author of the Wisdom of Solomon. True that, echoed Jesus to Jairus, whose daughter was at the point of death, and who was begging Jesus for help. Desperate, with his back against the proverbial wall, Jairus implored Jesus to “lay his hands on her, so that she be made well, and live.” So Jesus went with Jairus to do just that.

Now, because the crowds around Jesus had been growing in numbers, on both sides of the Sea of Galilee, Jesus wasn’t always aware of who was with him or around him. And yet, for some reason, he knew that a person had touched his clothes and that power had gone out of him. St. Mark tells us that there was a woman, who shared the desperation of Jairus. She had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years and had endured much under many physicians. She had spent all that she had and yet she had only grown worse in her affliction.

Like Jairus, this woman believed that Jesus could help her. “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well,” she said to herself. Not falling on her knees in front of Jesus, nor showing her face to him, she was different from Jairus. She didn’t beg Jesus repeatedly. She didn’t ask him to lay his hands upon her so that she would be made well. No, unclean women like her were prohibited from touching others, especially holy men like Jesus. So she was circumspect in her approach to Jesus, while still believing that He could help her. And He did, for immediately her hemorrhage stopped.

And yet she was called out by Jesus. “Who touched my clothes?” Jesus demanded. Rather than hiding, or running away, the woman fell at his feet and confessed to him what she had done. Jesus did not rebuke her, however, as was his right, and perhaps as she feared, but lovingly responded to her confession. Without laying his hands upon her, Jesus confirmed her miracle with his words. “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”

The miracle stories in St. Mark’s gospel keep rolling off his pen as if Jesus was curing everyone without any interruptions. But this woman’s appeal delayed Jesus from attending to Jairus’ daughter. And so, while Jesus was still speaking to this woman, some people came from the leader’s house to tell Jairus, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?”

Now it may be tempting to point to the differences between the lives of this particular woman and that man. Jairus was a man of power, a leader in his own right, while this poor woman had no power and no privileges. Would Jairus not be angry that she had interrupted Jesus, especially after hearing that his daughter had died? St. Mark doesn’t tell us specifically about Jairus’ reaction; he just writes that Jesus told him not to fear, only believe.

In her sermon entitled, The Problem with Miracles, Barbara Brown Taylor wrote, “Sometimes I wonder if the miracle stories in the Bible do more harm than good. They are spectacular stories, most of them, and there is a lot of comfort to be had from watching Jesus still the storm, heal the sick, and raise the dead. The problem with miracles is that it is hard to witness them without wanting one of your own. Every one of us knows someone who is suffering.” (p136-7, Bread of Angels)

Overhearing what some people had said to Jairus, Jesus encouraged him with His words “Do not fear, only believe.”  And today’s reading from the Wisdom of Solomon claims that God did not make death; but that we are made in the image of God’s own eternity and our righteousness is immortal. It was rather through the devil’s envy that death entered into our world and those who belong to the devil’s company will experience it. In other words, your behavior and your beliefs are critical to your life.

Context can offer us some more insight. It is believed that the author of the Wisdom of Solomon lived in Alexandria, Egypt possibly during the city’s conquest by Rome in 30 A.D. The author wanted the Jewish community to take pride in their faith while they endured the anti-Jewish riots that began in 38 AD. There was a new emphasis on the immortality of their souls because they faced imminent death, and so the author is encouraging their belief in the Wisdom of God. (NRSV, 1497-1499)  Ethical people, faithful people, will know that their souls are incorruptible and immortal. Keep your faith in God; for God does not delight in the death of the living!

Wisdom literature became known as Sophia Wisdom or Woman Wisdom and was understood as an eternal emanation of God’s power and glory. Later it became known in this Jewish community as the Logos of God. That is the Word of God. (NRSV) And so, as was written in the gospel of John only a few decades later, Jesus was described as the Logos of God, and the one who emanated God’s wisdom, power, and glory in human form. In God’s Word made flesh.

“Do not fear, only believe,” Jesus told Jairus. Believe that God did not make death, and does not delight in the death of the living, and that God created all things so that they might exist. Of course if you’re a realist, a person of practicality, and someone who cannot imagine holy mysteries, you will laugh at Jesus, as they did outside the house of Jairus, where the crowds had gathered once again and were weeping and wailing over this little girl’s death.

 Jesus would not allow everyone to follow him into this little girl’s room, however. Only Peter, James, and John, along with Jairus and the girl’s mother, were allowed to witness the miracle. It wasn’t a matter of space; for even with the best of intentions, the impact of people’s words can make a difference. So Jesus wanted to be surrounded by a small and intimate crowd of people who trusted and believed in him and God’s power.

After Jesus took the little girl’s hand and told her to get up, those in the room were overcome with amazement. Amazement overcomes us when we suddenly realize that a miracle has happened, and it is not limited to miracle stories like these two women in St. Mark’s gospel. Amazement can overcome us when we see the sunrise emerging over our horizon, and we awaken to a new day of life, after a night of weeping. We are amazed when we witness the miracle of new birth, when the Celtics win the NBA finals after several years of failed attempts, when we realize with gratitude how fortunate we are, and how blessed we have been in our relationships.

Miracles do happen and yet they are not for everyone. Furthermore, miracles are not something that we can control. In the words of Barbara Brown Taylor, “Faith does not work miracles. God does. Even if Jesus had walked into Jairus’ daughter’s room, closed her eyes with his fingertips, and pulled the sheet over her head, her father’s belief would have become the miracle at that point, his willingness to believe that she was still in God’s good hands even though she had slipped out of his.” (BBT,139,140)

The Wisdom of Solomon encourages our righteous and faithful behavior. The author claims that the ungodly, that is the devil’s companions, will not escape punishment, and that wisdom dwells only in a sincere, holy, and disciplined soul. The ungodly people will say that life is short and meaningless and physical death is the end of our existence. Conversely, Wisdom claims that our immortality is a gift from God, not due to the nature of our souls, but rather to our vital and eternal relationship with God. Faith will see us through the dark nights of our souls when we put our trust in God who has created us for incorruption and immortality. For life and not for death.

Some say Jairus’ daughter was a sign of resurrection in St. Mark’s gospel. God only knows. And so we cling to the here and now, reminding ourselves that “life is short and we do not have too much time to gladden the hearts of those who travel the way with us.” But we can be like Jesus, and consider our companions on the journey. Like Jesus, we can “be swift to love and make haste to be kind.” “Do not fear, only believe” Jesus said. "That is our job," wrote Barbara Brown Taylor. "The rest is up to God.” (BBT p140)

Wisdom of Solomon 1:13-15; 2:23-24    2 Corinthians 8:7-15    Mark 5:21-43