Unexpected Eyes of Love

20^th Sunday after Pentecost, Yr. B, October 14, 2012

Amos 5:6-7,10-15; Psalm 90:12-17; Hebrews 4:12-16; Mark 10:17-31

Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

  

I’ve been here long enough that this is my second time preaching on this passage from Mark.  Most of us are pretty well acquainted with the story of the “rich young man”.  A wealthy young man comes to Jesus, and asks what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  Jesus responds by telling him what was surely obvious to a faithful Jew, “follow the commandments.”  Jesus even spells them out to him.  The young man replies, “I have kept all these since my youth.”  Who remembers?  How does Jesus respond?  He says, “Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.”  Isn’t that what we remember?  That’s what I usually remember … but that’s not all that’s there

What if the World is a Prophet to the Church? Part 2

19^th Sunday after Pentecost, Yr. B, October 7, 2012

Genesis 2:18-24; Psalm 8; Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12; Mark 10:2-16

Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

You might think that our reading from Mark is about marriage and divorce, but it’s really about relationships and covenant.  It’s really about how we are meant to live together.  The creation story we read from Genesis helps us to see that.  In this account of our human beginnings God creates “man”, which is more accurately translated as “human being”.  There is no gender implied in the original language.  God realizes that his human creation is not meant to live in isolation, so God sets about making the human a partner.  God is infinitely creative.  God creates every animal of the field, all the birds, even domestic animals like cattle.  God goes to great length to create some kind of living thing that will be a suitable partner for the human, but nothing God creates is adequate. 

So God causes a deep sleep to come upon this first human being.  From it, God takes a rib and fashions another human and they become one flesh.  As one flesh, they are made from the same substance.  They are alike, and yet unique.  They are the beginning of our human community.  The first human is no longer alone.  The two are partners. We are inherently interdependent; we are not created to live alone.  We are meant to live in need of one another.  We are not whole outside of relationship with others.  This human story is an experiment in community.

What if the World is a Prophet to the Church?

18^th Sunday after Pentecost, Yr. B, September 30, 2012

Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29; Psalm 19:7-14; James 5:13-20; Mark 9:38-50

Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

So this Sunday we will start discussing the book, An Introduction to the Missional Church.  I bet some of you thought that you might get out of it by not reading the book.  That may not be the case!  You see, in preparation for our discussion, I have had to reread the book.  I’ll be doing that for thenext three weeks as well … just so you know.  The first three chapters are for today’s discussion.  In these first three chapters Alan Roxburgh and M. Scott Boren try to help us understand what a missional church is and is not.  They go to a lot of effort to distinguish what they describe as missional church from other missional identities.  We’ll talk a bit more about that after church. 

One of the foundational things that I’ve carried with me from these first chapters came from the first page of Chapter 1.  At every stage in the biblical narratives is hope for a future reality toward which the people are moving.  Being missional means we join this heritage, entering a journey without any road maps to discover what God is up to in our neighborhoods and communities.[1] 

Waiting on God

16^th Sunday after Pentecost, Yr. B, September 16, 2012

Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 116:1-8; James 3:1-12; Mark 8:27-38

Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. (James 3:1) I was a teacher for many years, and now as a priest I continue to teach.  I used to worry about being judged by my students, and by my peers … but not so much anymore because I’m older, I am more comfortable with who I am.

My daughter is in fifth grade.  She still thinks that her teachers know everything.  Like most kids she gets homework.  She’s still young enough that I know most of what she is learning, at least the science, reading and math.  Social studies, well … not so much.  I don’t think I really learned anything about social studies until I had to teach it.  Sometimes Nancy or I will be helping Hannah with her math homework, and we’ll get into a little bit of a tuggle.  We’ll very patiently help her through the steps we would use to solve a problem, and she’ll be quick to let us know that “the teacher doesn’t do it that way.”  Usually, we try to reassure her.  “It’s good to learn different strategies for solving problems.  Then when you get stuck you have options”, we say knowingly.  We’re older.  Our experience should count for something.  With impatience evident in her voice she typically responds, “That’s not how you do it, Maiya.  The teacher does it a different way.”  Right.  Well, as you might imagine homework usually goes downhill from there.  The teacher knows.  In fact, teachers know more than we do.