gratitude – Word In Process

Love. Your. Neighbor.

Fifth Sunday after Pentecost – July 14, 2019 – Luke 10:25-37 – Trinity, Winchester

I invite you to listen to me preach this sermon here.

You already know the story.

It’s one of the Gospel’s most familiar. For this reason some teachers of preaching might even say, “Skip it! Focus on the Old Testament lesson. Try the epistle for a change.”

On the other hand, others urge the kind of strong exegetical work that leads to a cutting-edge interpretation. Such a familiar story deserves more critical attention, they say. Easier said than done.

Either way, you already know the story.

You’ve probably even heard a preacher say something like, “The priest and the Levite ignore the suffering man because they don’t want to be made unclean.”

Another likely brought to your attention the arrogance of the lawyer who seeks to test Jesus and justify himself.

One preacher no doubt wowed you by approximating the value of two denarii in today’s day and age. Still another stressed the animosity between Samaritans and Jews in order to emphasis just how unbelievable this radical act of mercy is.

One of my seminary professors impressed me when he likened the robbers in the story to terrorists. They strip the man, beat him, and leave him half dead. These are no ordinary pick-pockets. These are much worse than the people who wave handguns at convenience store clerks.

New exegetical interpretations might help you see something you hadn’t before. Different homiletical tactics may bring you into the story from a different angle. Still, you already know the story.

No matter now many times you poke and prod it searching for new insight, the fundamental message remains: Love. Your. Neighbor. It really is as simple as that.

All our lives—from the fables we heard in Kindergarten to the parables we learned in Sunday School—we have encountered this valuable lesson over and over and over again: Love your neighbor.

Just like the lawyer in the story, we already know what is written in the book. If asked we can probably quote it, too. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.”

There’s a shorter version, too. Matthew wrote it down this way: “Treat others as you want to be treated.” The Golden Rule. You know it well.

But here’s the thing, friends. Jesus is not simply concerned with whether you know this important truth; Jesus is concerned with whether or not you practice it in your everyday life.

It’s right here in black and white. Jesus tells the lawyer, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” It’s not just about knowing, it’s about doing. You know it; now go and act like you know it.

After Jesus tells this familiar story he asks, “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The lawyer answers, “The one who showed him mercy.”

Good! Another correct answer. More right belief. More good knowledge. But what is Jesus’ response? “Go and do likewise.” Do likewise. You already know it; now you have to do it. We all have to do it. We have to love our neighbor.

Before we continue: a caveat. All this talk about doing stuff is bound to make good protestants nervous.

I know that we’ve caught Dr. Luther’s attention and from the Communion of Saints he strains his ear even as we speak to make sure we get this right. So let’s be clear. You can’t earn your salvation by doing things. You can’t get into heaven by right action.

We do not go about the business of loving our neighbor in order to earn something or to gain access to someplace. We do it to make the world the place that God wants the world to be.

We do not do it for ourselves. We do it out of love for one another, out of a desire to see each other grow and learn and flourish and succeed. Most of all, we do it out of gratitude for the love, the saving grace that God has shown to each of us.

So just do it—love your neighbor. Not just in thought, but it in word and deed. The world needs your example.

This community needs your example.

The day after Governor Lee declared Nathan Bedford Forest Day, the great state of Tennessee needs Christians like you to stand up and say, “This is absolutely wrong.”

So do it! Not because you don’t care about history. Not because you want to erase the past. Not because you prefer a sanitized version of an idealized nation.

No. Do it out of love for those who live in the still-too-threatening shadow of the Klan. Do it because you stand shoulder to shoulder with Jesus beside the oppressed and victimized. Do it because you follow God who really does desire “liberty and justice for all,” not just for some.

The Anglican Church of Canada needs your example.

After a heart-breaking vote at their General Synod this week the Canadian church has once again denied marriage equality to its members. The bishops could not reach the two thirds vote threshold they needed to expand the marriage rite to include same-sex couples.

It’s up to you to show the world that it’s possible to love your neighbor.

The United States needs your example.

As long as innocent children are separated from their families, as long as refugees remain trapped in unsanitary cages without adequate nourishment, Christians have work to do.

We have to show the world that it really is possible to love our neighbor.

No matter who occupies the White House, no matter who wields the Speaker’s gavel, no matter who sits in the Leader’s chair, we are called to respond as bearers of the light and life of Christ.

This is not work we do to earn more jewels in our crown or a better seat at the heavenly banquet table. This is love that we share in response to a God who loved us so much that he deigned to walk among us as a human being, showing us that our flesh matters.

Jesus led by example. He taught us that even in our frail, feeble, fleshy state we can put God’s love into action because that’s what we were created to do.

Now, here’s the really hard part. I don’t want to scare you, but I feel I have an obligation to share this with you: every single one of your neighbors deserves the love of God. All of them. Full stop.

That’s not only the people who you are called to stand up for, but those who you are called to stand up to. Even the men and women in the halls of power, even a few Canadian bishops, even Governor Lee.

I must admit, I’m not exactly sure how we’re supposed to manage this all the time. I’m supposed to be a professional Christian of sorts, and I don’t always get it right. That doesn’t mean we can’t give it our best shot.

We can take care not to vilify others before we take their perspective. We can do more to recognize how the thoughts in our heads and words on our tongues turn to hate in our hearts. We can remind ourselves—and each other—that we’re much better off with love, even when others don’t love us back.

Most of all, we can practice being grateful to God who saves us. As has been said before, “I never knew a person to be mean who was first and foremost grateful.” Be grateful.

Beyond that, I’m not really sure what more to say. We’ll just have to continue to do the work together. The good news is, we can. With God’s help and by God’s grace we can love anyone, everyone. It’ll be hard work, but then again, most things in life that are worth it are hard, and nobody ever said love was easy.

No, nobody ever said love was easy.

Sermons

Faithful response to God

Wednesday in Proper 6C – June 19, 2019 – Matthew 6:1-6,16-18 – St. Mary’s Convent, Sewanee

It’s been almost a week since I last saw you, and we’re still hearing from the “Sermon on the Mount.” Today Jesus instructs us not to practice our piety before others. He gives us three examples of what not to do, and three tips that can lead to healthier and more reverent practices.

“Whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you . . . But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.”

“Whenever you pray, do not . . . stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that [you] may be seen by others . . . But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door.”

“Whenever you fast, do not look dismal . . . But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face.”

It never fails. Every time I hear this passage I think about stewardship and evangelism. In my own naïveté, I tend to hear Jesus’ teaching as counter to everything I have learned about sharing my faith with others and tithing 10% of my income to the church.

Jesus’ instructions about almsgiving tell us that discretion is best. He tells us not to let people see us give money. But don’t we want people to be a part of a culture of giving? If people see others give, won’t that encourage them to give, too?

Jesus also warns us against praying in public places were we will make ourselves a spectacle. But, what about not hiding our light under a bushel basket and all that? Aren’t we supposed to make our faith known?

Jesus urges us to keep our fast in a way that does not draw too much attention. But what about Ash Wednesday? Does that mean no more ashes on my forehead? Do I need to go straight home and wash them off?

No, none of that is quite right. Jesus isn’t telling us never to give, or pray, or fast in public. He’s using public examples to tell us not to do these things for the wrong reasons.

Jesus is specifically taking to task those who lord their piety over others. To hear, “Don’t do these things in public . . .” is to miss half the message. It’s more like, “Don’t do these things in public . . . for the sake of impressing other people.”

We give, pray, and fast because these things are part of a genuine, faithful response to God’s presence in our lives. Attending church only because it’s good for business is very disingenuous.

However, setting an example of responsible tithing for friends and neighbors who don’t quite understand it yet can be a very responsible Christian witness. Likewise, thanking God for your food, even in a restaurant or school cafeteria, can be a very sincere way to recognize God’s abundant grace. And fasting, no matter what the appearance of your face, can be a very meaningful and appropriate way to respond to a merciful God.

Sometimes important things need to be explained clearly. Thank God for a sermon! The Sermon on that Mount, that is, in which Jesus teaches us not to give, and pray, and fast in order to impress others, but in grateful response to God’s presence in our lives.

But wait, doing such things in response to God’s presence in our lives requires us to be aware of God’s presence in our lives in the first place. Well then, perhaps that’s where we’ll end today, at the beginning of this whole process—step one: Look for God’s activity in the world, and when you see it, name it.

Then you can be grateful and respond.

Sermons

… and be grateful

42309044_235514037130229_6190254780821012480_n Ember Day – September 22, 2018 – Exodus 19:3-8; 1 Peter 4:7-11; Matthew 16:24-27 – St. Mary’s Convent

I was delighted to preside at the Eucharist at St. Mary’s Convent in Sewanee this morning. Below is my sermon. To learn more about the Community of Saint Mary visit their website here.

Today’s lessons come with a lot of instructions. In each of them God tells his people what they should do.

In Exodus, God gives Moses a message for the Israelites. “Tell my people that if they obey my voice and keep my covenant, then they shall be my treasured possession out of all the peoples. The whole earth is mine, but you shall be for me a priestly kingdom and a holy nation.” If you obey me then you will be my people.

The author of 1 Peter gives us some suggestions about community living. “Therefore be serious and discipline yourselves for the sake of your prayers. Maintain constant love for one another. Be hospitable to one another (without complaining). Use your God-given gifts to serve one another.”

And in Matthew’s account Jesus himself tells his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, take up your cross and follow me.”

It’s a lot to take in on a Saturday morning. Obey me. Keep my covenant. Love each other. Be hospitable. Serve. Pray. Take up your cross. Follow me.

These things can read like a to-do list, and that makes me a little uncomfortable. We are Episcopalians, products—whether we like it or not—of a blessed reformation. A reformation that told us, it’s not about what we do; it’s about what is done for us on the cross and the promise of resurrection.

So why all these instructions? Can God just not help himself?

Maybe God, like my own father, in an effort to show me how much he cares about me, and how much he loves me ends up…sometimes…kinda sorta…telling me how to live my life.

Sometimes it feels like my father’s well-intentioned advice, is his way of piling on to my work load. “You might consider calling your mother more.” “When was the last time you talked to you grandfather.” “Have you mailed those insurance papers yet?”

My husband does it, too. “That was really nice of them; you should write a thank-you note.” “Have you considered inviting her for coffee.”

OK. Whatever. Great. Wonderful. All good ideas, but I’m a little busy here.

“Well, I’m not trying to make your more difficult,” they say, “I’m just trying to help!”

And then it dawns on me! Obey my commandments. See my covenant for instructions. Love each other. Be hospitable. Serve each other. Pray. Take up your cross. God’s just trying to help.

God doesn’t make lists of tasks for us because God needs us to prove something. God provides examples so we don’t have to figure it out all by ourselves. God knows exactly what he’s doing. I’m the one turning it into a to-do list.

All of these things: love, service, hospitality, scripture reading, and prayer are appropriate ways not to earn our salvation, but to respond to it with gratitude.

Isn’t that liberating? You don’t have to do anything to earn God’s favor. So cross it all off your to-do list, and be grateful.