Spiritual Vision

Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Job 42:1-6, 10-17

Psalm 34:1-8, (19-22)

Hebrews 7:23-28

Mark 10:46-52

Frederick Douglass once said,“Behind the seen lies the unseen.” Let us pray.

Help us to see again, O Lord. Amen.

According to the website “Exploring Your Mind,” the “invisible gorilla experiment has become a psychology classic. Although it was conducted for the first time in 1999, it’s still cited as a typical example of the limitations of perception. It also illustrates how people don’t like to accept the fact that they’re often blind to the world around them.” 

Human beings are wonderfully made, and yet we are limited. We see things differently and in a variety of ways. “I see”, we will say, when we begin to understand something. “I see you,” we will say, when we acknowledge another person’s reality. Or “I see that you have needs” and then we load our carts with food for the Fuel program. We ask prayers for healing; we write a check to support our church and non-profits; and we offer our comfort to those who are grieving. People may even see our good works.

Our eyes can virtually see people in real time and real space. When I’m angry or passionate about something, you can see it in my eyes. My daughter calls them my “beady eyes.” Maybe we will cast a “stink eye” or an “evil eye” on another person to express our disapproval. I have found that distance from an event helps me see it differently or in fuller ways. When William Shatner saw our world from outer space, he was left speechless. And then we have our spiritual eye, sometimes called our 3rd eye, the one that can see things other-worldly, maybe even heavenly. 

To state the obvious, if our eyes are healthy, we can see. If we’re blind, like Bartimaeus, we cannot. Now there are many reasons for blindness. Unlike ancient times, we know that blindness is not a punishment from God. Instead, blindness can be a result of things like accidents, diseases, medical conditions, and genetics. Our blindness can be immediate and irreversible, or it may be progressive, changing slowly over time. For better or worse.

Blindness may heighten our senses. Sometimes we hear things more clearly, like Bartimaeus knowing that Jesus was approaching. We may see people differently. “When we label others, we stop seeing them as they are,” wrote Brother David from SSJE.  As Helen Keller once said, “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.”  

The gospel of Mark reveals the potential for our spiritual blindness. In it, there are two stories about blind men. Both men are physically blind and both are healed by Jesus, one slowly, and one very quickly. As the gospel progresses, however, the disciples of Jesus become increasingly blind to who Jesus was and what he was all about.

On some levels, we’re all spiritually blind. We have vision problems when we see life from a narrow and limited perspective; or when we see only what is important to us personally. The influences of our family and religious upbringings, our social and cultural dynamics, and our political identities may determine our perceptions of God, humanity, and our world. We can see only blue or red, black or white, forgetting that God created a rainbow of colors. We’re often blind to our own transgressions; we can clearly see the speck in the other person’s eye and not the log in our own. 

The transformation of my own spiritual blindness has been both dramatic and slow. And it’s ever-changing. Occasionally, I have seen Jesus up close and personal, as if I’m sitting in the chair of my eye doctor. Sometimes I have seen Jesus from a distance or not at all. Often I will need to rely upon the good eyesight of others to help me spiritually.

Recently, I’ve heard some people say that they’ve been feeling like Job lately. Certainly, with events in our country and around the world, the story of Job comes to mind for many of us. We often come to realize how blind we are to the suffering of others, until suffering comes into our own lives. In fact the pandemic has brought that suffering home to all of us.

My husband Paul and I have been blessed beyond measure; and yet our greatest learning about God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit came through our own suffering. Our picket fences didn't protect us from breakthrough diseases and human challenges; and yet they strengthened our faith, hope, and love in God. Time and time again, amazing grace, how sweet the sound. We were blind and could not see. We were lost and then were found.

Terrified by the raging storm all around them, the disciples once wondered, “Who is this man that even the winds and waves obey?” Jesus would cast out demons, heal the sick, open the eyes of the blind, and even raise the dead. And yet, for the most part, people were blind to who He was. His followers kept looking for a political king to save them; and the crowds were calling for economic reforms. Routinely, Jesus pointed to the need for religious reform.

Previous to today’s gospel passage, there is a rich man who wanted to inherit eternal life. When Jesus told him to go and sell what he owned, and give his money to the poor, the rich man could not do it. “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God,” said Jesus, and to which His disciples cried out in fear, “Then who can be saved?” For having money meant having God's favor. And bad things happened only to bad people.

The bad news for all of us today, rich and poor people alike, is that we’re all doomed. As my spiritual director is fond of saying, “We’re all goners.”  Whether we see death from a distance, or up close and personal, we all face the cross eventually. And so, today, we are invited to see Jesus for who he was, and is, and is to come. Despite our spiritual blindness, we can still hear Jesus ask us today, “What do you want me to do for you?” And we can reply, “Let me see again.”

Jesus was seen in many ways and called by many names. He was the Son of Man and the Son of God, a teacher, prophet, priest, and king. He was also fully human like you and me. As Christians, we now see Jesus as our Messiah, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world and triumphs over evil and death. We see Jesus not as a powerful king riding in a golden chariot, or sitting behind shaded windows in a stretch-limo, but rather as a suffering servant, who wore a crown of thorns before he was nailed to the cross. 

For our sake, Jesus showed us the Way of Love and our path to eternal life. And so, the question for us today is not, “Then who can be saved? Or who will save us?” but rather, trusting in God for our salvation, “How then shall we live?”

We all have ways in which we try to protect ourselves from diseases, demons, disasters, and death. And while good medical care, money, and masks can help us, our dollar bills proclaim that in God we trust. Yes, we can look to our presidents and kings, our high priests and popes, our military powers and financial bank accounts, and even our human intelligence to save us; but you and I both know, ultimately they will all fail us in the end. 

  As St. Paul said to the church in Corinth, we see now only through a mirror dimly; and so we need help to see God’s mercy and grace. We may need the magnifying glasses of scripture to see our salvation story. We may need corrective lenses to believe in things beyond our physical sight. We may need the strength of our Christian communities to help us stand firm in our faith. For we are not goners after all; we are people of the resurrection.

Today, I see the Church differently. It is a place where I can see God in real time, with real people, and through real events. Church is a place where I can throw off my own cloak of fear, and share my stories of suffering and blessing. Over my lifetime, I have come to believe that God has the power to save me. And like Job once said to God, “I had heard of you, but now my eye sees you.”

Church is where I see Jesus face to face in communion. With my spiritual eye, I can see His Body and Blood on my outstretched hands, remembering how He stretched out His arms of love on the hard wood of the cross so that everyone might come within the reach of His saving embrace. 

Today, whether you are a newcomer or a long-timer, whether you are young or old, whether you are here in the sanctuary or joining us virtually, whether you are an Episcopalian or not, together we represent the Body of Christ. We are the head, the heart, the hands, and the feet of Jesus. We have eyes to see and ears to hear. We have hands to help and hearts to love, and we have been called by God for a purpose: to point to God’s amazing grace and to share our gifts of time, talent, and treasure with others. 

Samuel Wells, once said (quote) “Jesus walked slowly, purposefully, intentionally into the eye of the storm, because only through the storm would he find what he was truly looking for; and what he was looking for was us.” 

So here we are, sitting on the side of the road in Chestnut Hill, blind as bats, and begging for mercy. The author of Hebrews suggests that we look to Jesus, our great high priest, who intercedes for us even now. “Look upon him and be radiant, and let not your faces be ashamed.” For as Jesus once said to Bartimaeus, our “faith will make us well” and perhaps someday we shall see our Lord face to face  Amen.

Growing Darkness

  

Lines written in the days of growing darkness, by Mary Oliver

Every year we have been

witness to it: how the

world descends

 

into a rich mash, in order that

it may resume.

And therefore

who would cry out

 

to the petals on the ground

to stay,

knowing as we must,

how the vivacity of what was is married

 

to the vitality of what will be?

I don't say

it's easy, but

what else will do

 

if the love one claims to have for the world

be true?

 

So let us go on, cheerfully enough,

this and every crisping day,

 

though the sun be swinging east,

and the ponds be cold and black,

and the sweets of the year be doomed.

from her collection, A Thousand Mornings

 

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

The world descends into what? Hell? Purgatory? No, a liminal space and place where hopes for release and falling upward remain. Is it a place of dirt and disease, or just a resting place for renewal and budding possibilities? There are seeds that are buried deep within us, unseen, and yet brimming with possibility and new life. It’s a rich mash, this hummus. Resuming old ways is not an option. New ways beckon. No longer seeds but trees of life. Vivacity and vitality await us in the darkening days, and the glorious colors of the fall foliage remind us of the beauty of creation, and the love of our Creator. So “let us go on, cheerfully enough, this and every crisping day.”

Forgiveness

 The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.’ Then Jesus said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’ 

We have some basic staples in our religious and spiritual lives. One is the golden rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. And the other is the Lord’s Prayer.

There are various translations of the Lord’s Prayer and today I want to focus specifically on the words about forgiveness. It’s a stumbling block for many people. Being unable to forgive ourselves or others or to feel that we have been forgiven creates an enormous amount of pain and grief in our lives. In fact it causes a lot of bad behavior and prevents us from living in peace.

We may have learned different ways to pray the Lord’s Prayer, and depending upon the three synoptic gospel stories, Jesus taught his disciples different things. In Luke’s gospel, Jesus said to them, “When you pray, say: “And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.’' According to the book Gospel Parallels, this translation is probably closer to the original words of Jesus. Note that it includes both the words ‘sins’ and ‘indebtedness’ in the process of forgiveness.

Mark, which is considered to be the first gospel written, is much more succinct. In it Jesus says, “Whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone; so that your Father in heaven may also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” Now we hear the word 'trespasses'. As in the case of the chicken and the egg, which comes first? In Mark’s translation, Jesus tells us that we must forgive others before God will forgive us.

Matthew, an expanded version of Mark’s gospel, is considered the more liturgical version of the Lord’s Prayer. In it Jesus says to his disciples, “And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” Matthew’s version is the kitchen sink variety of the Lord’s Prayer. We have debts, debtors, trespasses, and quid pro quos all in one.

So which is it? Trespasses, sins or debts? And who is forgiving whom, who forgives first, and what exactly are we forgiving when we use these words?

Let’s take trespasses. It means you’ve crossed a boundary. You’ve gone into someone else’s property, crossed a border, or violated their physical or emotional space. For example, news reporters chasing politicians into bathrooms. Regardless of the written signs that have been posted (wear a mask), or the verbal warnings that have been spoken, “don’t go there” or “don’t do that”, you have overstepped a boundary. When we say, “Forgive us our trespasses”, we are asking forgiveness for these boundary violations.

In today’s gospel story, the unnamed woman at the feet of Jesus has a reputation; she is “that woman” who has crashed the men’s party. Considered both a trespasser and a sinner, the Pharisee tells us that Jesus should have known what kind of woman was touching him. Occasionally my Dad, God rest his soul, would say to me, “Be careful, Nancy. Your halo is slipping!” I would forget that I share a common bond with all humanity, that like the Pharisee and this woman, I too am a sinner.  I make myself the judge and jury of others, trespassing into areas of God’s domain. 

Sin. Oftentimes we limit our understanding of sin as merely doing something wrong. Knowingly and unknowingly,  I do what I know I shouldn’t do. I say things that are insensitive, indeed even prejudiced. I act unprofessionally. I cheat on my taxes, my business account, or maybe even my spouse. I lie, dissemble, ignore, and deny the truth, and so I sin in my words and deeds, which can also mean to “miss the mark.” 

Perhaps my intentions were good and yet the impact of my words and actions are hurtful. My human behavior missed the target, the bulls-eye that Jesus holds up for us. We live in glass houses, which is why Jesus said to the crowd,, “Let the one without sin cast the first stone!”

Jesus also talks about two debtors, that is you and me. Yes, Jesus compares the amounts of these debts, and yet in Anglican moral theology, a sin is a sin is a sin, no matter how great, no matter how small. There are no venial or mortal sins in Anglicanism, just sins. 

In a recent Zoom webinar, I listened to Dr. Fred Luskin talk about forgiveness from a medical and neurological perspective. If we do not forgive ourselves and others, regardless of the pain we have endured or that we have created, we carry burdens preventing us from living freely and peacefully. In his book entitled Forgive For Good, he offers a metaphor that shows the practical consequences of harboring grief, sadness and pain, of harboring anger and resentment for too long. They are like planes circling an airport and not being able to land, nor allowing other planes to land either. 

Once we release our hands from the controls, drop all the fuel and baggage that weighs us down, and turn everything over to God, we let God be the pilot of our planes. Knowing that we have been forgiven by God, we are able to forgive ourselves and others, and land our planes safely. Forgiven for our trespasses, sins, and debts, we can love God, our neighbors, indeed even ourselves, more fully and freely. Ultimately we will live and die more peacefully. 

So let go and let God. Forgive for the good of yourself and for the good of others. And remember it’s a process, repeated daily over our lifetimes. We may need to circle the target and the tarmac many times before we can land. While some things and some people may seem unforgivable, God is the ultimate judge. “Forgive them for they know not what they do,” said Jesus from the cross. And today to “that woman” (a trespasser, debtor, and sinner), “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” Isn’t that what we all ultimately want?

Luke 7:36-50

One of the Pharisees asked Jesus* to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and took his place at the table. And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, ‘If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.’ Jesus spoke up and said to him, ‘Simon, I have something to say to you.’ ‘Teacher,’ he replied, ‘speak.’ ‘A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii,* and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he cancelled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?’ Simon answered, ‘I suppose the one for whom he cancelled the greater debt.’ And Jesus* said to him, ‘You have judged rightly.’ Then turning towards the woman, he said to Simon, ‘Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.’ Then he said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’ But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, ‘Who is this who even forgives sins?’ And he said to the woman, ‘Your faith has saved you; go in peace.’ 

St. Michael and All Angels

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

 On Wednesday, September 29, we celebrated the feast of St. Michael and all Angels, when we remember the many ways in which God's loving care watches over us.The Holy Scriptures often speak of angels and archangels and all the company of heaven who worship God and then act as God’s messengers on earth. The four archangels, the leaders of this heavenly band, are named Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel.

St. Michael’s name means “Who is like God?” Who indeed? And angels have been described in military language with Michael being named as the captain of these heavenly armies. In tonight’s passage from Daniel, he is called the great prince and protector of God’s people, who comes among them at a time of great anguish and suffering. We need St. Michael, the archangels and angels, and all their heavenly armies even now!

Time is both temporal and eternal, translated in Greek as chronos and kairos. And the times described in our scripture passages this day are both. They are often called the end times and St. Mark's gospel lesson has become known as the “little apocalypse.” It describes the time when Jesus warns his listeners to be alert for that time when the Son of Man will come to gather his elect.

I remember the first time that I stepped into the pulpit as a seminarian at St. John’s Church in Waterbury, Connecticut. As I began to speak, a man in the front row stood up, and as he walked out of the church, he claimed in a very loud voice that the end was near. I was a little unnerved; and yet false messiahs and prophets can be found on many street corners and, these days, especially throughout our social media. The warning from these people is that you better be alert, and get your life in order, or you will soon be left behind.

Have you been chosen? Have you been elected by God to live forever in his kingdom, protected eternally by God, his angels and archangels, and those who have been enlisted in God’s heavenly armies? Cue the Salvation Army now or the Calvinists or let’s sing “Onward Christian soldiers” together. Are you hoping to find yourself one day seated before the throne of God, listening to a heavenly choir that sounds as lovely as the one at Church of the Redeemer? Well, that depends on your theology of salvation. Personally, I believe that God’s grace is unlimited and undeserved and that there is a wideness in God’s mercy.

When some people read the Revelation to John, they might wonder if the author was smoking something before he put pen to paper. During this time of severe persecution against the Christian communities in the Middle East, John’s Revelation is intended to offer hope. He paints a picture of St. Michael, leading the heavenly armies to defeat the great dragon, who at that time was the emperor of Rome and his armies. John’s writing is filled with secret symbols and allegorical language as a way to protect the followers of Jesus from being found out and then martyred. 

I am not one of those people who likes to read the end of a story first in order to see what happens in the end.  And so, there has never been a time when I have been tempted to read the Revelation to John to understand the end of our salvation story. The four gospels do that for me. Jesus was born and lived a life of faithful service. He was crucified, died and was buried. On the third day he rose again and is seated at the right hand of God. John calls Jesus the Lamb of God; and today we claim that he takes away the sins of the world. We believe that Jesus is both the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and end of our salvation story. Full stop.

 But in truth the story of our salvation is not really over; indeed it is a never ending story. In the Revelation to John, Jesus is still speaking to us, as both the Lamb of God, whose garments were once bloodied, and now are pure white. And still, the story continues in you and in me. “See, the home of God is among mortals,“ John wrote. And so, like our true Messiah, our Prince of Peace and the Protector of God’s people, like St Michael and all God’s angels and archangels, we become God's messengers, who proclaim God’s unfailing Way of Love on earth as it is in heaven.

 In fact, the Revelation to John describes “the triumph of God over evil and death, not only as a future expectation, but also one that has already been realized in heaven. Our hope then is not based simply on the promise of God in the distant past but it is based on the present power of God manifest in the resurrection of Jesus,” writes Luke Timothy Johnson.(p 517)

The final image given to us then by the author of Revelation is one of a new heaven and a new earth. John reminds us that the Lamb of God, that is Jesus, dwells with us even now; and he will wipe away our tears during these current times of suffering. Death no longer will hold its sting, nor does it have a final victory. Cities and nations will no longer be divided. Gathered into a heavenly chorus, we are united as one community of God’s beloved children, where people of every language and tribe and nation live in peace. To the “One seated on the throne and to the Lamb - be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever.”

So, be an angel, a messenger, and an evangelist: share the story of our salvation.  Amen.

Daniel 12:1-3 

Revelation 5:1-14

Revelation 12:7-12

Mark 13:21-27

Salt and Fire

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

Long ago, in fact over 30 years ago, I attended Trinity Episcopal Church in Newtown, Connecticut. As a lay person, I was involved in many and various ministries. First, I started out as the coffee chairperson; inviting people to serve coffee seemed like an easy and non-threatening way to start. And then I was asked by a vestry member to join the pastoral care team, which made me a little nervous. I had two small children, a husband who traveled and was often away from home, and not much time to cook meals for others. Besides, what’s wrong with take-out, I silently thought to myself? Next thing I know I’m serving on the vestry as the outreach chair and deeply involved with creating a transitional living facility for homeless women and their children.

I have a lot of friends from Newtown and even more from Sandy Hook school, which our children attended long before the tragedy. My years in Newtown were formative ones, not only as a wife and parent but also as a family member and friend, a budding Christian, and a member of our small town community. Our church was actively engaged beyond its walls and known as the rich church on the hill. We helped launch Youth Services in Newtown, The Family Life Center, and then Amos House, a collaborative and ecumenical effort by 5 area churches.

Once a year, a group of us from Trinity Church, now living in various parts of our nation, will gather in the Adirondack mountains to reconnect in person. I’m the only one who went rogue and became a priest. During our community time together, we eat, drink, and make merry at one of our friend’s homes. We play games, take hikes, argue about politics, and talk about “the church.” Our faith and spiritual lives are deeply important to all of us; and yet we’ve each struggled over the years in different ways.  

Part of our ritual when we gather together is to have a chapel service in which we read scripture, reflect on a gospel passage, and then share communion. Fortuitously for me, this year we agreed to reflect upon today’s passage from St. Mark. Specifically, we wondered about the words of Jesus, who said, “For everyone will be salted with fire.” So, I raised the question for us to ponder: Am I salt or am I fire?

Now there are many ways in which we can use salt. Most commonly, it seasons our food. Salt is a preservative, used to cure meats, or when gargled with warm water, it can heal our gums and soothe our throats. In ancient times, salt was used to ward off evil spirits.Throwing a pinch of salt over their shoulders, some people would cast out demons in the name of Jesus.

As I’ve grown older, I am conscious of the sodium levels in my food and the negative aspects of salt. While Jesus said to the crowd, “Salt is good” I say, “Not so fast. Not always.” High blood pressure can be deadly. The Dead Sea is filled to the brim with salt, and while it may buoy us up, if the water is swallowed it can also be harmful. The Dead Sea receives water but it doesn’t give it. It’s all get and no give; it’s all inlet and no outlet. 

Back to that question, am I salt or am I fire?

Fire, like salt, can be used in many and various ways as well. We can heat and cook with it, but we can also burn ourselves. Maybe we light candles to create certain moods, or place them on our altars to remind us of the light of Christ; and yet a careless match, a bolt of lightning, and winds over a campfire can create raging forest fires, wiping out vast amounts of landscapes and destroying people’s homes and their lives. In fact, both salt and fire, like anything material or even spiritual, can be used for both good and evil, for creative and destructive purposes. It begs not only the question “Am I salt or am I fire?” but also “For what purpose am I being used?”

A few weeks ago, I was listening to various run-ups on the news prior to the anniversary of 9-11. Most of us can remember where we were and what we were doing on that date. In one news program I heard two sisters recall memories of their brothers. One was an airplane pilot in his 50’s who died when the hijacked plane crashed into the pentagon. The other was a newly married man in his early 30’s who had just started a new job in the twin towers.

I remember just beginning our morning prayer service at St. Paul’s Church in Greenwich, Connecticut when the sexton came running in to tell us about a plane crashing into the World Trade Center. We quickly gathered around a television set in time to see the second plane hit the other tower. Stunned into silence we knew that these were not misguided events. Rather they were purposeful attacks, intended to cause death and destruction. Some say they targeted the very hearts of our political and economic lives. Indeed they broke thousands of hearts across our nation in those fiery attacks.

Many weeks after that day, I served as a chaplain at Ground Zero on a Saturday afternoon. Bodies were still being recovered; the smoke and smells from the fires were intense, and the depth of our despair and horror was deep. First responders and recovery workers, considered salt of the earth, stopped every time someone was found beneath the rubble. The bodies were then transported to a tent where chaplains like me blessed them, and others worked to identify them. Needing a respite we would retreat to St. Paul’s chapel at Ground Zero, miraculously spared from the destruction all around it. There we could pray, talk to others, and read the letters of supporters from around our world.

During the anniversary of remembering the tragedy of 9-11, President Bush’s words were repeated and his actions were recalled. “If you’re not for us,” he said to people in other countries, “then you're against us.” And today we hear those very same words from Jesus, when his disciples complained about people who were casting out demons but not using his name to do so. Who cares if you’re healing, helping, and doing something good? Jesus responded. If you provide just a single cup of water to someone who is scared or thirsty, is crying uncontrollably because of a loss or a trauma, or stopping momentarily to help another person, who cares what name you use, and in whose name you serve? Praise any human being who helps another child of God.

Now remember that Jesus said that everyone is salted with fire; and so our call, as faithful Christians, is to discern how we can use our words and our actions for good. If the fire in your belly has gone out, how can you rekindle it? If your salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Asking these questions another way, how can I be an agent of positive change and transformative love, sprinkling salt and starting good little fires everywhere I go?

As salt of the earth, can I season, soothe, cure, heal, and buoy other people up? Through my prayers, can I ward off evil spirits and cast out demons in the name of Jesus? Fired up by the Holy Spirit, does my presence warm the room, create a good mood, light the pathway forward, and remind others of Christ? Do I rekindle the fires of others by my words and actions?

To be honest, I lost both my salt and my fire at various times during the pandemic. Without ever contracting the coronavirus, thank God, I lost my taste for many things, except salty food like potato chips, pickles, and french fries. The fire of my spiritual life flickered and grew dim. I struggled to find ways to keep my connection with God alive; and my prayer life was flat. For a while, my purpose in life became very narrow, and not connected with a greater good and a higher Power. I missed being part of a community. I longed to rekindle my passion for ministry. I yearned to reclaim God’s mission of reconciling love, and serving others in the name of Christ.

Having enjoyed being a free agent in Christ in many parishes throughout our diocese before the pandemic, I realized that I needed an anchor, a community in which to belong more deeply, and a place where I could renew my saltiness and rekindle my fire. Thank you to Mike, your wardens, and your vestry for the invitation to join you this year. On this third Sunday in your midst, I am excited to be part of your lives.

Prayers and people renew my saltiness. Being on God’ s mission of reconciliation and love rekindles the fire in my belly. Belonging to a church community sustains me in the ups and downs of my earthly and spiritual life, and helps me to behave better. When I walk and talk with Jesus, I can find ways to use my saltiness and my fire for good. I can speak more graciously and act more faithfully, maybe even more courageously.

When I ask those questions: “Am I salt or am I fire?” I can now say, “Both.” “Everyone will be salted with fire!” said Jesus. “And for what purpose?” Today, for me, it's to restore the faith, hope, and love that remains nascent in us all. And to practice the Way of Love in all my affairs. Praise Jesus for that. 

Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; 9:20-22

Psalm 124

James 5:13-20

Mark 9:38-50

Catherine Cooke Lux, RIP

 Catherine Cooke Lux

October 11, 1951 - March 22, 2021

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Celebration of Life, September 18, 2021

We have friends and then we have our best friends. Cate was one of my best friends. A forever friend from the first day I met her until eternity, we could pick up and leave off without missing a beat. We shared many times together, laughing, weeping, wondering about life and death, and how to negotiate the reality of now. 

Let’s face it. It’s been more than a year of wondering about life and death, while we continue to respond to the COVID 19 pandemic and its variants. Cate found it especially hard during this time in her life. Her love language included touch; and she hated not being able to hug those she loved. For whatever reasons you have, and we all have them, this is a hard, hard time for us all. And so we acknowledge it; we accept it, and we can still not like it.

So what’s the good news that I can share with you today? What can I say, along with all of you who are gathered here virtually or physically, both near and far, from Massachusetts to Philly to New Zealand and as far away as heaven? How can we celebrate the earthly life of the one and only, the deliciously, naughty Catherine Cooke Lux?

 Like her, I have an active imagination and certain opinions about many things. I can see her now, amazingly gorgeous in her little red dress, driving her dream green car with a tan interior. The windows are down, letting the wind blow through her recently highlighted hair, and the radio is blaring. Chip liked her hair short. I liked it straight, not with those little permy curls we all tried in the 1990’s. I can see her face now, raising an eyebrow at me for something I’ve said or done.

I always thought of Cate as a teacher and a student of life, who was eager to learn new things and then share them with others. As a child, she created her own little classroom on the green moss of the forest. She liked working with her colleagues and spending time with various groups of friends. She had a lot of them from all chapters in her life. 

Cate loved museums and art; and her choices for today are filled with beauty. They paint pictures for us in our imaginations; we can see sheep in green pastures and rainbows in the sky. We can hear beautiful music. Cate had talked about sending love letters to her family. And as I listened to the music she selected, the scripture passages that she chose, and the poetry that she recited, I was amazed. This was her love letter to us all.

To her credit, she faced death squarely in the eye. She offered words of faith, hope, and love to those who would listen. The author of Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is a time for everything. A time to weep and a time to laugh. A time to be alone and a time to be together. A time to die; and a time to rejoice.

Rejoice. I love that word. It means to find joy once again. Living each day as a simple and precious gift of life, we can start fresh every morning. Joy comes when we mingle our grief with our gratitude, our tears of love with our tears of loss. We rejoice when we share bear hugs and belly laughs, when we share memories over good food and well-aged wine, when we raise our glasses in a toast of thanksgiving to the woman we all love. Rejoice, I say, always rejoice.

Deep down, Cate knew that life is a holy mystery. Like so many people these days who identify themselves not as religious but spiritual, Cate knew that joy comes when we have faith in something or someone beyond ourselves. We can find joy in things not seen, like our virtual love crossing these airways, and going in all directions. Cate knew that love is complicated and that our dreams are sometimes broken; and yet in the face of all that difficulty, we can still say, “Hallelujah.” Even in her times of darkness, she trusted that there is something beyond that multi-colored rainbow which we call heaven. 

In and with the spirit of Cate, I’d like to end by reading a children’s story called Water Bugs and Dragonflies, explaining Death to Young Children, by Doris Stickney.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise God, us creatures here below. Praise God for Catherine Cooke Lux, my BFF, then, now, and forever. Amen.

Resist the Proud

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Grant us, O Lord, to trust in you with all our hearts; for, as you always resist the proud who confide in their own strength, so you never forsake those who make their boast of your mercy; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Proverbs 22:1-2, 8-9, 22-23

A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches,

and favour is better than silver or gold.

The rich and the poor have this in common:

the Lord is the maker of them all.

Whoever sows injustice will reap calamity

and the rod of anger will fail.

Those who are generous are blessed,

for they share their bread with the poor.

Do not rob the poor because they are poor,

or crush the afflicted at the gate;

for the Lord pleads their cause

and despoils of life those who despoil them.

I once had a colleague who spoke ill of me to anyone who would listen. Despite my request made directly to that person to stop, it didn’t happen. I care deeply about my “good name” more than great riches. “Favour” is truly better than silver or gold, but I had “none” in that person’s eyes. We were equals, knowing that we were uniquely created by God, the maker of us all; and yet the forces of destruction were at work. Finally, intervention by our commander in chief became necessary.

I have despaired with the news coming out of Kabul and Washington D.C. this past week. Intervention by our current commander in chief is being criticized as well as supported, and analysis will continue for decades. Perspectives swing widely across the political aisles. “Who is to be trusted with the news?” Clearly injustice is reaping calamity on both the rich and the poor. Clearly hundreds if not thousands of people are being “afflicted and crushed at the gates.” The gates of war are like the floodgates of hurricane Ida, wreaking havoc everywhere, on the good and the ill-willed alike.

Today’s prayer encourages us to “resist the proud.” So what kind of pride is to be resisted? The proud trust only in their own strength. They kill the spirit if not the body; they oppress and suppress the life-forces of humanity. The proud never listen to the wisdom or the perspectives of others. Going it alone, they assume they are right when they may be wrong. Closing their ears, they justify their actions. Opening their mouths, they spread ill will.

The author of Proverbs claims that those who “despoil life” will be despoiled. “Whoever sows injustice will reap calamity, and the rod of anger will fail.” What’s a person to do in times like these, when we feel powerless, helpless, and vulnerable to forces that are so far beyond our control? “Trust in God and tie your camel to the tree” is ancient desert wisdom. Do some good. Speak kindly. Seek justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God. Hopefully, the Lord is “pleading our cause.” And so we labor on.

Psalm 10 Prayer for Deliverance from Enemies

 John Harris WordLive-Scripture Union, August 22, 2021

‘I shall not fear the battle / if thou art by my side, / nor wander from the pathway / if thou wilt be my guide.’1

"The psalmist’s emotions fluctuate between gratitude for God’s past protection and desperate pleas for God’s deliverance in the present danger. The war imagery of nations in conflict, of blood, destruction and death, suggests that the psalmist was a warrior and the battle real, not a metaphor for personal inner conflict. The warrior psalmist had served in one of Israel’s many wars and he attributes the victories to God’s help. Now, in imminent danger, he calls out to God to protect and save him, as he has done before. The warrior psalmist believes that he is on the side of a righteous God and that the enemy are the ‘wicked’ (v 5), opposing God’s people. Yet, rather than exuding confidence, there is a note of desperation in his words. He calls upon God to see his peril and save him from the ‘gates of death’ (v 13).

This is the psalmists’ quandary, the dilemma of all the righteous, the good and godly people living under the old covenant. They believed in a simple equation. The righteous, who followed God and obeyed God’s Law would be blessed, whereas the wicked, who did not acknowledge and obey God, would be cursed. Despite their trust in God, however, people began to see that the equation did not always work. Good people sometimes suffered while bad people often triumphed. This becomes very evident in Psalm 10, originally part of the same psalm. ‘Why, Lord, do you stand far off?’, the psalmist asks. Why does God do nothing when the wicked crush the poor? Why does God let the wicked boast of their prosperity and revile God? The answers lay in a distant future which some psalmists ‘saw … from a distance’ but none truly understood, a future when, through Christ, all the redeemed people of God would finally experience unending peace and justice in God’s eternity."

‘[God] will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.’

1 John Ernest Bode, 1816–74, ‘O Jesus, I have promised’  2 Deut 28:1–14  3 Deut 28:15–68  4 Ps 10:1  5 Heb 11:13  6 Rev 21:3

Psalm 10

Prayer for Deliverance from Enemies

Why, O Lord, do you stand far off?

   Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?

In arrogance the wicked persecute the poor—

   let them be caught in the schemes they have devised.

For the wicked boast of the desires of their heart,

   those greedy for gain curse and renounce the Lord.

In the pride of their countenance the wicked say, ‘God will not seek it out’;

   all their thoughts are, ‘There is no God.’

Their ways prosper at all times;

   your judgements are on high, out of their sight;

   as for their foes, they scoff at them.

They think in their heart, ‘We shall not be moved;

   throughout all generations we shall not meet adversity.’

Their mouths are filled with cursing and deceit and oppression;

   under their tongues are mischief and iniquity.

They sit in ambush in the villages;

   in hiding-places they murder the innocent.

Their eyes stealthily watch for the helpless;

   they lurk in secret like a lion in its covert;

they lurk that they may seize the poor;

   they seize the poor and drag them off in their net.

They stoop, they crouch,

   and the helpless fall by their might.

They think in their heart, ‘God has forgotten,

   he has hidden his face, he will never see it.’

Rise up, O Lord; O God, lift up your hand;

   do not forget the oppressed.

Why do the wicked renounce God,

   and say in their hearts, ‘You will not call us to account’?

But you do see! Indeed you note trouble and grief,

   that you may take it into your hands;

the helpless commit themselves to you;

   you have been the helper of the orphan.

Break the arm of the wicked and evildoers;

   seek out their wickedness until you find none.

The Lord is king for ever and ever;

   the nations shall perish from his land.

O Lord, you will hear the desire of the meek;

   you will strengthen their heart, you will incline your ear

to do justice for the orphan and the oppressed,

   so that those from earth may strike terror no more.