"We will see you ... tomorrow night.... and the next day ... and the next!" -- a sermon for the Sixth Sunday of Easter

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A sermon preached by the Very Rev. Michael D. Kinman at Christ Church Cathedral on Sunday, May 13, 2012

I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete. This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends.

 Stay standing for a moment. If you can’t stand. Try this sitting or just watch.

Bend down and curl up. Crouch down. Turn into yourself.

Now hold that for just a second.

Now slowly open up. Arms raised. Head upward.

What did the first feel like?
What did the second feel like?
What did the transition feel like? OK … you can sit down now.

 On a Thursday night late last October, the Cardinals twice were down to their last strike. And if you hadn’t gone to bed, you were rewarded with a moment that you will remember forever. In the bottom of the 11th inning of Game Six, David Freese stepped to the plate at Busch Stadium and it sounded like this:



 How many of you saw that?

Now when you saw that, how many of you went like this (crouch)? NO! The entire city of St. Louis was like this (arms upraised).

For this whole city it was a moment of pure unadulterated joy. Man, Schroedter, Hayden and I almost destroyed part of our house we were jumping and dancing around so much! It wasn’t just that the Cardinals had won. It was that twice it had seemed like it was over. Twice it looked like this great impossible ride that began when we were 10 ½ games out in late August was going to fall just short.

And then Freese hit his triple in the 9th and his homer in the 11th. And we knew not only was it not over. We knew that dreams could come true.

And we went like this (arms upraised). Do you remember? Do you remember not just with your mind? Do you remember with your heart? Do you remember in your body?

 In this morning’s Gospel, Jesus says “I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.”

There’s a refrain from an Indigo Girls song that sings “the hardest to learn was the least complicated.”

Man, that is so true. You know, we can learn the most complex things. We can build supercomputers and perform microsurgery. We can learn to hit an inside slider and dance the Lindy Hop. If you stop by Pi Pizzeria on March 14, you will hear people who can recite from memory pi—you know 3.14159 – who can recite that to more than 200 digits … for a T-shirt!

We can learn just about anything. We can remember just about anything. But somehow it is so easy for us to forget what Jesus says here.

 “I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.”

It’s so simple. It truly is the least complicated. But still over and over again, we manage to forget.

We forget that this is all supposed to be about joy. We forget that God’s dream for us is all about joy. We forget that following Jesus is all about joy. We forget that being the church is all about joy.

And that’s not a criticism. Sometimes it’s hard to see how we could remember. We are surrounded and consumed by so much that pulls our attention from joy to fear. The media brings anger and conflict into our lives 24 hours a day. We are told to fear everything … fear the economy, fear crime, fear each other – particularly those who are different from us. Fear for our children. Fear for our parents. Fear that we are just one strike away from it all collapsing down. Fear that if we swing away, that ball won’t connect with the bat and instead we’ll hear the thud of horsehide in a catcher’s mitt while we flail helplessly with the whole world watching.

And in our fear we start to believe that the posture for life is this. (curl up).

But we come together in this place to hear a different message. We come together here to remember and learn the simple truth that Jesus brings us. That we don’t have to be like this (curled). That we can be like this (uplifted). That Christ’s dream for us is joy. Christ’s joy in us. And our joy being full.

 So how do we do it? How do we remember? How do we embrace? How do we go from this (curled up) to this (arms raised)?

Jesus says: “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends.

That’s how we do it. We love one another. We lay down our lives for one another.

 Lay down our lives. Now that sounds like a chore, doesn’t it? That sounds like obligation. It’s not. It’s about joy. It is our greatest joy to lay down our lives for each other.

 It’s all about going from this (curled up) to this (arms raised).

And the way we do that is to give ourselves away.

And we already know this. We know this because the greatest moments of our lives come when we have done this. Everyone who shows up on Saturday morning to serve at Miss Carol’s breakfast or heads down to the Bridge for the Sunday lunch does it not out of obligation but because there is something in giving ourselves away that puts Christ’s joy in us and makes our joy full. We give our lives away as spouses and partners, as mothers and fathers, as teachers and friends. And when we do sometimes it is painful. Sometimes it is hard. But those are also the moments, those are also the relationships that bring us the deepest celebration. The deepest joy. The deepest this (arms upraised).

 And in those moments we know that our lives are a gift not to be jealously and fearfully guarded, but to be extravagantly and joyfully given away.

We are entering an exciting season as Christ Church Cathedral. In the coming weeks and months, our Chapter will be inviting us to gatherings where together we will imagine what God dreams for us to be as not just a Cathedral congregation but a Cathedral for the city of St. Louis. Where we will look at scripture, at our history and tradition and at the world both within this Cathedral and without and imagine who God is calling us to be as Christ’s body today and into the future. How exciting is that?

 I’m not going to presume to guess what that dream might look like, or what specific Christian values are going to emerge that have us raising our arms and saying “Yes, this is who we are!” “Yes! This is what makes God do this (arms up) when we embrace.” But I will guarantee us one thing, ‘cause it’s right here in the Gospel.

I guarantee that whatever we realize God’s dream for us is. Whatever Christian values we believe we are called to embody. Whatever mission we commit to undertake it will not be for ourselves but for the world whom Jesus loves.

Our destiny as the Cathedral for this diocese, our destiny as the Cathedral for this city and this region is not holding on tightly to what we have, not curling up into ourselves, but throwing open our doors and giving ourselves and this glorious space away in love. Throwing open our doors and going out into the streets. Throwing open our doors and inviting the world in here. Throwing open our doors and living out loud our faith in one who looks deep in our hearts and reminds us that our lives are not possessions to keep but gifts to be given away.

We’ve been through a rough few years together. And we have gone through it together. We have had times of great pain and fear and moments of deep beauty and joy. And we still have a couple big strikes against us. We’ve got a $70,000 deficit that we’ve got three years at the outside to erase. We’re still too staff dependent and have newcomers, hospitality and children’s ministries that are suffering greatly because of it.

But, you know, this is St. Louis. And if last October taught us anything, it’s that two strikes means we’ve got ‘em right where we want ‘em. And we’ve got a big swing left in us. A swing of loving the world as Christ loves us. A swing of rejecting fear and throwing open our doors and laying down our lives. A swing whose sound when it connects will echo throughout this city and this region and signal that Christ is alive at Christ Church Cathedral. Come one. Come all. We will see you tomorrow night … and the next day … and the next…. and the next … and the next.

We’ve got a big swing left in us. But we’ve gotta get the bat off our shoulder. How is Christ inviting you to be a part of it? How is Christ inviting us to throw open the doors of this Cathedral and love the world more extravagantly?

How is Christ inviting us to go from this (curled up) … to this (arms raised)?

Amen. Alleluia!

A wedding sermon for Cecily Stewart and Nick Hawksworth

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Preached by the Very Rev. Michael D. Kinman at Christ Church Cathedral on Saturday, May 12, 2012

“Pooh!” 
 “Yes?” said Pooh. 
 “When I’m—when--Pooh!” 
“Yes, Christopher Robin?” 
 “I’m not going to do Nothing any more.”
 “Never again?” 
 “Well, not so much. They don’t let you.” 
Pooh waited for him to go on, but he was silent again. 
“Yes, Christopher Robin?” said Pooh helpfully. 
“Pooh, when I’m—you know—when I’m not doing Nothing, will you come up here sometimes?”
 “Just me?” 
“Yes, Pooh.” 
 “Will you be here too?” 
 “Yes, Pooh, I will be, really. I promise I will be, Pooh.” 
“That’s good” said Pooh. 
 “Pooh, promise you won’t forget about me, ever. Not even when I’m a hundred.” 
 Pooh thought for a little. “How old shall I be then?”
 “Ninety-nine.” 
 Pooh nodded. “I promise,” he said. 
 Still with his eyes on the world Christopher Robin put out a hand and felt for Pooh’s paw. 
“Pooh,” said Christopher Robin earnestly, “if I—if I’m not quite---“ he stopped and tried again - “Pooh, whatever happens, you will understand, won’t you?”
 “Understand what?”
 “Oh, nothing.” He laughed and jumped to his feet. 
“Come on!” 
“Where?” said Pooh.
 “Anywhere,” said Christopher Robin. 
--From The House at Pooh Corner by A.A. Milne

I used to wonder why we cry at weddings. After all, weddings are happy times. At first I used to think it was because it was just so beautiful, and sometimes deep beauty makes us cry. I think that's part of it. But I finally realized that we cry at weddings because every new beginning involves and ending. And we grieve endings.

Cecily, you and Nick chose for one of your readings today the incredibly profound text "The House at Pooh Corner" ... and if we are going to fully dive into the deep theological underpinnings of this piece we're going to have to understand that backstory of the part we just heard.

The part Barbi just read comes from the very end of the book. And what's going on is Christopher Robin is going off to school. His days of doing Nothing -- that's "Nothing" with a capital "N" -- His days of doing Nothing with his cuddly toys, Winnie the Pooh, Piglet, Eeyore and all the rest – are coming to an end. And Christopher Robin is begging Pooh not to forget him – but we know that it's really Christopher Robin who is about to forget him. Childish things are being put away. He is off to something new … and no matter how many promises they make to each other they know it will never be the same.

And it’s sad. Even though Christopher Robin growing up and going to school is a wonderful thing … it’s sad because he's leaving a part of his life that has been precious and wonderful behind and it will never be again. 

It’s why we all cried at the end of Toy Story 3 when Andy gets in the car and drives off to college leaving Woody and Buzz behind. It's just the same story told for a different generation.

We live in a world where everything has seasons. Friendships come and go. Favorite toys get outgrown. Careers change.  We live in houses for years and then the moving vans come and someone else calls the space we have consecrated with our lives home.  Everything except this.

A few minutes ago, you told me that you were ready to make some promises to each other.

To live together in the covenant of marriage. To love, comfort, honor and keep, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others be faithful.

And then you said “I will” to seven words … seven words that make all the difference. Seven words that make what you are entering into today different from all the other things that do have seasons. All the other things that do come and go. The seven words you said “I will” to were:

As long as you both shall live.       As long as you both shall live.

When this service started, in words that are easy to miss because the buzz of the excitement of the moment is still filling our ears, our prayer book said this about marriage:

It signifies to us the mystery of the union between Christ and his Church.

The mystery of the union between Christ and his church is love … that’s clear enough. But it’s not just love. It’s love that is always putting the other first. Love that is always giving itself for the other so much that each puts their own well being second to the thriving of the other. For us, it’s a love that only works in mutuality. And the covenant of marriage is that safe place where each of you will be able to risk loving the other more than yourself, because you know that loving of yourself piece is taken care of. You’ll be able to not worry about watching your own back because you know your partner will always have that job.

But it’s not even just that. The mystery of the union between Christ and his church is not just love, not just a love that is self-giving, it is a love that is eternal. It is the love of “Lo, I will be with you always, even until the end of the age.”

It is the love that you will pledge to each other in a few moments when you promise that you will have and hold one another from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until you are parted by death.

It is an extraordinary thing that you are promising. It is a promise of a love that is sustaining and unassailable. And it is too wonderful and too difficult for you to do it alone. And that is why you are not getting married off somewhere by yourselves but here with all of us, your family and friends and faith community who love you.

Because I don't know if you remember, but you're not the only ones making a promise here today. A few minutes ago, I asked all of us here an important question. I asked "Will all of you witnessing these promises do all in your power to uphold these two persons in their marriage?" and you absolutely shook this place with a resounding "We Will!" It was fabulous ... and it needed to be. Because Cecily and Nick, you need to know that we are with you in this. You need to know that our support for you doesn't end today it's just beginning.


Because I want to tell you what we have just promised these two. We have just promised that we will be with them through good times and bad. When things are going great in their marriage, we are going to be there to celebrate with them and say "Way to go!" And when things aren't going so good ... and EVERY marriage has times when they aren't going so well. Because we live in a world that tries to tell us that we need to be much more concerned with our own back than watching each other. But when things aren't going so well, ... well, we're going to be there, too. And we're going to remind you of the promises you made here today and even more than that of the love that binds you together.


And there is one more thing that we're going to do. We're going to count on you. All of us. All of us in our marriages and partnerships and friendships. All of us in all our relationships where we hope to live lives of giving ourselves to each other ... we're going to be watching you in hope. In hope that you can show us how it's done. That we can learn from you and have our lives strengthened and our loyalties confirmed.

Our hope for you is that you will be what the Gospel you chose calls us to be. That you will be salt and light. Showing us all how rich life can be. As rich as your love this day.

So, it’s OK to cry today. It’s OK to laugh. Today is a day of endings and beginnings. Like Christopher Robin, your lives will never be the same. But that is good news. The promises you make to each other today are not the promises of Christopher Robin and Winnie the Pooh. They are the promises of Christ. The promises of love through good times and bad. The promises of care through cross and resurrection. And above all, the promises of lo, I will be with you always, even to the end of the age.

Trayvon, Anna and the "other way" of Jesus - A Sermon for Maundy Thursday

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Preached by the Very Rev. Mike Kinman at Christ Church Cathedral on Maundy Thursday, 2012

 “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."

Every now and then, a story will catch our attention not so much because it’s interesting or even outrageous … but because it strikes a chord with a deep, lived experience that some of us have had. Because it puts a specific face and story to things that we know to be true because we have lived them.

In the past month, we’ve had two such stories and two such faces capture our attention, break our hearts, and ignite our outrage.  They are the stories and faces of Trayvon Martin and Anna Brown. Trayvon Martin, a young black man who was gunned down walking unarmed in his own neighborhood in Florida. Anna Brown, a young, black, homeless woman, who died alone in a jail cell just a few miles away from here in Richmond Heights of blood clots that went undiagnosed at St. Mary’s Hospital.

As a nation and as a city, Trayvon and Anna’s deaths have captured us not just because they are sensational. But because they strike a chord with the deep lived experience of many in our nation and our community. And that experience is that every day in our country, young, black men and homeless black women die or are killed for no other reason than that they are young black men and homeless black women.

The facts of Trayvon’s and Anna’s deaths have been debated continuously over the past several weeks. We know about George Zimmerman’s call to the police and his ignoring their request that he not pursue Trayvon. We know about Florida’s stand your ground law. We know about Anna Brown being arrested for refusing to leave St. Mary’s and the doctor signing a “fit for confinement” report. We know about her being dragged into her jail cell and left lying on the floor, where she died minutes later.

We know these things and we debate them and we assume motive behind them because we’re casting around for someone to blame. We want someone to pay for this. We have a sense of justice that on a gut level is about retribution, and we want it satisfied. Some of us want it satisfied because it just seems right. Some of us want it satisfied because we have lived it going unsatisfied for so many Trayvons and Annas through the years and throughout our lives and our parents’ lives and their parents’ lives. And some of us want it satisfied so we can just move on and be able to pretend again that these are just isolated incidents and everything really is OK.

On one level, the facts of these cases are always important. We need to know and understand what specifically happened. But on a gut level, on an emotional level, the facts of Trayvon’s and Anna’s death could not matter less. Because what we’re really looking for isn’t someone just to pay for what happened to Trayvon and Anna. We want someone to pay for all that their deaths represent. We want justice for all the injustice that happens every day.

When it comes down to it, what we really want is a sacrificial lamb.

We want someone on whom we can not only pin the sin of Trayvon and Anna‘s deaths, but on whom we can pin the sin of the entire community, the sin of the entire nation. Our sin of racism. Our sin of classism. Our sin of indifference to the unmet basic human needs of those who are most vulnerable.

We want a sacrificial lamb for the same reasons that people always want a sacrificial lamb. We want to give a simple answer to a hard question – in this case “why did Trayvon Martin and Anna Brown die?” We want a simple answer to a question whose answer is anything but simple. But we are tired and angry and fed up and no matter how true it is we don’t want to hear about the complex systems that let things like this happen. We want a single person or institution or cause to blame and dispatch so that we can feel clean and blameless ourselves and so we can imagine that finally, everything will be the way it should be.

And even though deep down, most of us know better. Even though deep down, most of us know that serving up George Zimmerman or the Richmond Heights Police or St. Mary’s Hospital isn’t going to make everything the way it should be, at our most basic gut level, we don’t care. We want it anyway. We want it to be simple and easy and over.

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."

Jesus knew a lot about sacrificial lambs. After all, he was about to become one.  As we walk through his passion tomorrow, we will hear that the charges against him were senseless and inconsequential. Pilate himself would just as soon have released him. But the clergy and the crowd demanded his blood. Crucify him, they shouted. Crucify him … and it will all be OK.

But  tonight…. This is the night that Jesus offers his disciples, offers us, offers the world … another way.  

When we know we are going to be leaving someone we love, whether it be by death or just by leaving the house in the morning, something in us tells us we need to say the most important thing. We need to say the thing that we really most want the other person not just to hear but to deeply know. It’s why the most common words spoken both at front doors in the morning and from the cell phones of people on the planes on 9/11 are the same three words – I love you.

This night Jesus gives his last words to his friends, the most important thing that he really wants us not just to hear but to deeply know. 

Love one another. Love one another. As I have loved you, you should also love one another.

And he doesn’t just say it, he shows it. He breaks bread and says “This is my body, given for you. “He pours the cup and says “This is my blood, given for you.” He washes their feet and says “If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. “

Even in the face of his own betrayal, torture and death, Jesus doesn’t call for revenge. Instead, he calls those closest to him, those who were most likely to be hurt the most by his death, not to search for their own scapegoat or sacrificial lamb, but to give themselves to each other and even to their persecutors and enemies. To give themselves up in love.

If we are looking for a simple, easy answer, love is not it. Love is rarely, if ever simple. Love is messy. Love is hard. Love means committing to struggling together through misunderstanding and pain. Love means allowing ourselves to be vulnerable with all the risk that entails. Love means never giving up on the image of God that is in any person, no matter how deeply it is hidden in disguise.

But love, the self-sacrificial, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you love of Christ. The love that leads us not to name and slay a sacrificial lamb but to be one with Christ in being the lamb of God. Love in all its complexity and difficulty can do something that anger and revenge and scapegoating can never even approach doing.

Love can heal. Love can transform.

Love can bring about the world the way God dreams for it to be.

The “other way” that Jesus shows us this night. The way of washing one another’s feet and laying our lives on that table with his.

It is the way that Gandhi walked in India when he led his people in expelling the British but made it possible for them to leave as friends.

It is the way that Dr. King walked in this country when he said “Love has within it a redemptive power. And there is a power there that eventually transforms individuals. That’s why Jesus says, “Love your enemies.” Because if you hate your enemies, you have no way to redeem and to transform your enemies. But if you love your enemies, you will discover that at the very root of love is the power of redemption.” And so he did.  And so we did. And the world changed.

It is the way that Nelson Mandela walked when he committed to treating those who were persecuting and imprisoning him not as enemies but as future friends, and in so doing was able to lead a largely bloodless revolution that few ever thought possible.

It is the way that Jesus offers us this night as he stands with Trayvon, as he stands with Anna … and as he stands with us.  It is the call not to ask “whom can we blame?” but instead to ask “how can we love?” And this night and every night it is the only question that matters.  Because as we sit here this night you can believe there is another Trayvon being killed and another Anna dying far from the camera’s watchful eye. And blame and revenge will not bring them back any more than blame and revenge will prevent it from happening again tomorrow.

But love can. Love will.

So we must let the stories of Trayvon and Anna capture us. We must let their faces haunt us. We must let the echoes of their cries break our hearts. We must let the injustice of their deaths enflame us, but we must not give in to hate. We must not give in to revenge. We must not give in to blame. 

For this night and every night, our Lord gives us another way. A harder way. An exponentially more complicated but an infinitely more productive and rewarding way.

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."

What might that look like in America?

What might that look like in St. Louis?

What might that look like in our life?

What might that look like this night … and tomorrow?

Loving the Light -- A Sermon for Lent 4

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Preached by the Very Rev. Mike Kinman at Christ Church Cathedral at 10 am on Sunday, March 18, 2012

 

And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.

Earlier this week, a man named Greg Smith wrote an op-ed piece in the New York Times titled “Why I Am Leaving Goldman Sachs.”

Now, you might think from listening to media reports that Goldman Sachs is and always has been the conscienceless Death Star of global finance. But Smith … albeit in a somewhat self-serving and self-satisfied way … painted a different picture. He said:

It didn’t used to be this way. Goldman Sachs used to stand for something else.

Here’s what he wrote:

“It might sound surprising to a skeptical public, but culture was always a vital part of Goldman Sachs’s success. It revolved around teamwork, integrity, a spirit of humility, and always doing right by our clients. The culture was the secret sauce that made this place great and allowed us to earn our clients’ trust for 143 years. It wasn’t just about making money; this alone will not sustain a firm for so long. It had something to do with pride and belief in the organization. I am sad to say that I look around today and see virtually no trace of the culture that made me love working for this firm for many years. I no longer have the pride, or the belief. “

“But this was not always the case.”

So the question is, “What happened?”  Let’s just for the sake of argument say Smith is telling the truth. Let’s say Goldman Sachs once was a company built on the four pillars of teamwork, integrity, humility and service and somehow mutated into being a company that will sacrifice any and all of these things for a profit margin … what happened?

Well, Smith asks and answers that question:

“How did we get here?” he asks. “The firm changed the way it thought about leadership. Leadership used to be about ideas, setting an example and doing the right thing. Today, if you make enough money for the firm (and are not currently an axe murderer) you will be promoted into a position of influence.”

Well, OK. Leadership is important. But I think the answer is even deeper and more foundational that that. You can look at Goldman Sachs or any number of organizations and say, “Well, leadership is still about ideas, setting an example and doing the right thing.” But what has shifted is what the ideas, the example and the concept of what the “right thing” is.

If Smith is to be believed, what really shifted is what Goldman Sachs chose to love.

Easily overshadowed by the oft-bumper stickered John 3:16 in this morning’s Gospel .. is Jesus saying this:

“This is the judgment … that the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.”

God doesn’t judge the people … God doesn’t judge or condemn us. The people -- We -- visit judgment on ourselves. And how? By even though we are given the gift of the light, choosing to love the darkness instead.

We choose to love the darkness.

I’m not sure there is a truer statement about human nature and the pain God feels about us than this.  The light has come into the world, and the people loved the darkness rather than the light because their deeds are evil.

And the people loved the darkness rather than the light.

Now, we must hear Jesus’ words this morning ever so carefully. Notice that Jesus doesn’t say that the people are evil. The people – all of us – we are made in the image of God and good. Nothing can change that. It is the deeds that are evil. And we are all vulnerable.

By the same token, corporations aren’t evil. Supreme Court implications aside, the truth is that at their core what corporations are is just groups of people. But groups of people are powerful things. We are made in God’s image after all. We are creatures of power. Individually, we are capable of great light and great darkness – of good deeds and evil deeds – but corporately, the good and the evil can be magnified exponentially.

And usually, the path to loving the darkness isn’t some big jump from one minute doing good and the next doing evil. It’s not Anakin Skywalker to Darth Vader. It’s gradual. Substituting lesser goods. Compromising those core values just a little bit for other lesser values like expediency or success or profit.

In the 1980s film Broadcast News, Albert Brooks’ character, Aaron Altman, has this great line talking to Holly Hunter about the Devil. He says:

 

“What do you think the Devil is going to look like if he's around? Nobody is going to be taken by some guy with a long, red, pointy tail…. He will be attractive. He will be nice and helpful. He will get a job where he influences a great God-fearing nation. He'll never do an evil thing. He'll never deliberately hurt a living thing. He'll just bit by little bit lower our standards where they are important. Just a tiny little bit. Just coax along, flash over substance. Just a tiny bit. And he will talk about all of us really being salesmen.

“And he’ll get all the great women.”

We hear this, and sure, we can see the Devil all over Greg Smith’s story of Goldman Sachs. But really, when we think about it, we can see the Devil everywhere. Everywhere we turn just a little bit from light to darkness. Everywhere we just bit by little bit lower standards where they are important.

I love my family, we say. And then we spend more and more hours away from them and tell ourselves it’s so we can buy them what they need … when what they really need is us.

I believe we should help the poor, we say. And then we spend our money building up our own standard of living at the expense of the poorest among us in the name of the lesser good of providing “security” for our families or even for our church.

Goldman Sachs is not evil and neither are we. But here is the judgment. And we all need to hear it.

It’s not that we don’t know what the light is.  

It’s not that the light hasn’t been given to us by a God who loves us beyond measure.

Here is the judgment -- that the light has come into the world, and we loved the darkness rather than light.

But if that is the judgment, then what is the antidote?

Love the light.

And what is the light? Some people call it “the good.” Lincoln famously and beautifully called it “the better angels of our nature.” At one point Goldman Sachs called it teamwork, integrity, humility and service.

We call the light by a name. We call the light Jesus.

The answer is love the light.

The answer is Love Jesus.

So what does that look like?  It’s really not a tough question to answer. We know instinctually what loving the light, what loving Jesus looks like. Our challenge is to articulate it and do it.

For the past month or so, your Chapter has been engaged in work around discovering our shared, core values. That’s just another way of saying “what does it mean for us to love Jesus?”  What is the light?

We have begun a process of articulating that – a process that this whole congregation, the diocese and even downtown St. Louis will be engaged in. But what we found in starting it is that we instinctually know what it is.  In fact when we took our first stab at it, it was amazing how quickly a sense of it emerged … a sense that was consonant with what scripture tells us we are supposed to be about.

In fact, I bet I could even ask us here. What are the core values of Christ Church Cathedral? What is the light that we believe Jesus dreams for us to love? In one or two words, what are the values you would say are closest to our heart here?

Congregation said words like "Compassion. Service. Diversity. Love." 

See? We have a sense of what it is. To my ears the words you just said and others like them are some of the same words I heard when I first got here and we had those coffees and conversations and I asked “what was it that drew you to Christ Church Cathedral?” They are some of the same words your Chapter came up with when we started this exercise at our workday last month.

And over the coming year, we just need to pray about it, and look for it in scripture and in our own history, and then articulate it. And then we need to more and more continue to live it.

We need to name the light and love the light. It's that basic.

And as we more and more continue to name, lift up and hold before us these values, this light that Jesus dreams for us to love. As we love the light, we will more and more become the light. As we love Jesus, we will more and more become the Body of Christ. And our lives will be transformed. And the sick will be healed, captives set free and good news will ring out from this place and throughout this congregation, diocese and city.

As together we learn more and more to love the light, darkness will fade. And God will do extraordinary things through us in this congregation, this diocese and in the City of St. Louis.

And then we will all be truly saved. Not in some cheap and easy, get of jail free card hand stamp to heaven way. But saved from the judgment of loving the darkness. And saved to the joy of loving the light. Saved to be the glory of God that is the Body of Christ come fully alive. AMEN.

Being Foolish - A sermon for Lent 3

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Preached by the Rev. David Fly at Christ Church Cathedral at 8 am on Sunday, March 11 2012 

 

“For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, 

and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.” I Cor.

A clown is seated in the center ring of the circus. Carefully, he gathers his tattered coat about him, smoothing the winkles. He sews on new fancy buttons that shine and sparkle and takes a moment to admire them. He dusts off a black top hat, which he places on his head. He has really made something of himself. With his new look he will cut quite a fancy figure. Then he stands up and his pants fall down! His attempts to “put on airs” have been thwarted and he has failed. And we laugh at his failure. We laugh because in his failure we see a truth about ourselves. We see our own attempts at being something other than we are – we see his pride and are reminded of our own – we remember those times that we discovered, often to our embarrassment, that we really aren’t who we pretend to be.

Emmett Kelly walks near the crowd under the big tent. Today, our sad clown is hungry, really hungry. He rubs his tummy. A little boy reaches out to hand him some popcorn but Kelly’s arms are too short to reach it. Then our hungry clown gets an idea, the way clowns often get ideas: from his left pocket he pulls out a light bulb and puts it over his head. It lights up! Then he carefully reaches into his right pocket and pulls out a walnut. Food! But the food is encased in a hard shell. So close but so far away! Then he has another bright idea. He reaches back into his pocket and pulls out a huge wooden mallet. Ah, the end is in sight. He has a plan. He places the nut on a bench. You can see his excitement. He’s only a thin shell away from food. He raises the mallet high over his head and then SLAM he brings it down on the nut. Of course, when he takes it away, only a grease spot remains. Sad Willie looks even sadder. His plan has failed. We laugh, but we also know how often we invent elaborate schemes in our own lives that completely destroy the objective. We know what “overkill” is all about! The failure of the clown has shown us a truth about ourselves. We’re often so proud of our own plans that we get carried away with our own enthusiasm and SLAM goes the hammer on the very object we seek.

 

A clown walks into a telephone booth and begins to chat away on the phone. Other clowns have loaded the booth with dynamite. Suddenly, BOOM goes the explosion and the telephone booth is shrouded in smoke. Well, too bad for the clown. He’s messed with the ultimate terror: death. He has failed totally; death has once again won the day. Slowly the smoke clears and the clown is found standing in the same place, a little worse for the wear, but still chatting away on the phone. He dances away; his seeming failure a victory. At some deep level, perhaps only for a moment, we have touched our own fear of death and here is a clown who laughs at that which we fear.

 

To the Corinthians, Paul writes: The message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written,

"I will destroy the wisdom of the wise,
and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart."

Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, God decided, through the foolishness of our proclamation, to save those who believe. For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength.

 

“God,” says Paul, “chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise, God choose what is weak in the world to shame the strong, God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.” Through foolishness, says Paul, God has not only made himself known to us, but, if you believe, God has done something that we cannot do ourselves. Though we cannot fashion for ourselves clothes that make us worthy even to stand in the presence of God, God has, in fact, clothed us in Christ. Though we cannot ultimately feed the true hunger in ourselves – the hunger for salvation – God has chosen to feed us through the self-offering of Jesus on the Cross. Though we cannot protect ourselves from the power of death, God has given us the victory through Jesus.

And to many of us, God’s actions are folly because we, like the Jews and the Gentiles, demand signs and wisdom. Like the Jews, we expect God to save us according to our own expectations, not through the cursed death on a cross. Like the Greeks, we believe that surely through the exercise of some kind of pure spiritual disciple we will find the salvation we seek, not depend on it from some lowly preacher in Galilee. The death of Jesus on the cross was clown-like to both Jew and Gentile in a way that we, perhaps, cannot understand, because we have lost touch with the Cross. No self-respecting Jew or Greek could buy the crucifixion as the way to salvation because it didn’t fit their preconceptions.

 

Later in this same letter, Paul says that when he came to them, he came as a fool. “I did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God in lofty words or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and in much fear and trembling; and my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in the demonstration of the Spirit and the power . . .” Like that clown in the phone booth, Paul walked into the presence of those cultured Greeks, with trembling in his knees and fear in his voice. And they had loaded the place with dynamite! But Paul stood in their presence speaking of the power of Jesus Christ and – when the smoke cleared – Paul was still standing and the people believed that God was present among them.

 

And that’s the way it’s been ever since. The power of God has made itself present in the most unlikely of people and in the most unusual of situations. If we put aside our own preconceived notions of how we will let God work in our lives, we will find that God is there working within us, making himself known to others through us. If we admit to a hunger that we cannot fill, we will give God the opportunity to surprise us and feed us with his presence. Neither the wisdom of this age nor the rulers of this age can give us what we need. Nor can we, as captains of our fate and masters of our souls, sail ourselves into safe harbors. Maybe that’s what Jesus was demonstrating in his “Occupy the Temple” action in today’s gospel. Rather, let us look to the Cross, the foolish wisdom of God – let us look to the Cross the foolish wisdom of God that proclaims to us a love greater than any we will ever know – a revelation that there is an acceptance at the heart of God that will be there when all else fails. Only then will we be able to boast because we will not be boasting of anything we have done to save ourselves, rather we will be boasting of the Lord who has saved us all. Amen.

Message from Malawi -- Pope Bequest bears fruit, brings hope and joy!

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A message from Fr. Tom Mpinga of Nkope Anglican Church in Malawi giving us a further update on the effect the supplies bought with the first $5,000 of the $20,000 Pope Bequest gift from Christ Church Cathedral has had.

The Mission Malawi team is always looking for new members. If you're interested contact Jennifer Grant or Robert Kamkwalala.
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On behalf of the committee I would like to report on how the materials bought are helping the Clinic and the community as a whole.

1.MATRESSES:

The mattresses are helping us a lot since this is the peak time for malaria so the Hospital is always full and no one is not sleeping on the floor as it was before. Even if some mattresses are not pressed on the beds but there is an improvement that people are enjoying the mattress

2.MICROSCOPE:

The Microscope that we bought is two in one equipment. It can capture TB viruses and also Malaria and other diseases that are found in Urine and stool. The in the beginning the medical assistant could just guess for the diseases by using history so there was no accuracy on the  treatment given to people. But now things are going on very smooth since if the doctor is not sure for the disease then he just send the patient to the laboratory department for proper examinations. These things might seem not helping for others but to us we are happy   with these.

3. BT MACHINE.

The BP Machine is also another thing that is helping us a lot since this also is a two in one equipment. It measures the BP itself and also the pulse rate. These things were done in the past by guessing but now they are so accurate on these things of which the Patients are given recommended drugs for their problems.

4.4 IN ONE MACHINE.

In the beginning we could do this business of photocopy, printing scanning and printing in Mangochi our small town which could cost us transport and also charges on these things. But now we are doing this business right away at the hospital. indeed it is a great relief that we can walk tall and say praise to God our Lord for these gifts for sure we could not manage on our own to find there things in the clinic.

5. Auto scope

This Machine was also a problem to our hospital since a patient with a little problem could be referred to another hospital because of this machine only. But now there are no such referrals since the machine is giving the doctor accuracy in his job and he works effectively on issues which is deals with this machine.

So you can see that these things are having a very big impact to the clinic and the community at large since people are helped in time and within the clinic. So we have done this progress report so that those who contributed for this may see to it that things are okay here.

Wishing you and the whole church there all the best in this Lent period

TOM+

 

Third Sunday of Lent - 2012

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"Let the words of mouth and the meditation of my Heart be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord my strength and my redeemer"

“I mean why does God rely on Jesus as his defense attorney? Can't God do all that on his own? Could it be that God really needs help from everyone else because he is supposed to have a certain amount of power. You know like Checks and balances? So if I could convince Heaven that I was better than God could I overthrow him? Anyways if Heaven is a dictatorship then how did Satan convince 1/3 of Heaven to join him? Can't God use his magical powers to silence Satan? Or could it be that he doesn't have that type of power?”

These are the words of Alex S in a recent post on the internet. Readers voted Kate’s response as best:

“May luck be with you when you are denied entry into heaven.

poor dumbass.”

Is it really that simple: ask dumb question - be denied entry into heaven. Likely if that is true -- than I am in big trouble.

I propose that simple answers to tough questions often limit of our view of God - often confine God to neat little boxes that are comfortable to you and I.

When tornado’s ravage the midwest week before last, Pat Robertson was quick to say that “if people had only prayed hard enough, God would have intervened.”

Two years before he stated that Hurricane Katrina’s devastating hit on the Gulf Coast was God’s judgement.

Recovering from Surgery a year ago I read Stephen Hawkins’ “A Grand Design” where he explores the world of quantum physics and the question of a creator of it all. He dismisses the need for a creator of the universe, by concluding that the complexity of quantum physics can explain it all.

It is not just Pat Robertson or Stephen Hawkins who readily box God in. You and I do it with regularity. “God took her home” or “why didn’t God answer my prayer” or “God knew you were strong enough to handle it”.

Tough questions --- simple answers. My guess is that, like me, you have real questions that are not easily dismissed.

In his 1961 book “Your God is too Small”, JB Phillips explores the ways in which we limit God - the ways in which we put God in a box that we can deal with -- that we can comprehend -- that fits into our world view.

Some of these boxed-in-Gods that Phillips outlines may be familiar to us - either in ourselves or someone we know or have listened to:

• The resident policeman
• The Parental hangover
• The grand old man
• A meek and mild savior
• The Heavenly bosom
• The managing director

Any of these sound familiar? The reality is that most of us put God in a box --- expect God to respond the way we want, and then we read scripture to fit God into our mold.

Some of these gods sound more like the mythical figures of the gods of the Greeks - of Atlas, Zues, Thor, Posiden, Hades, Hestia, and Hera. Or gods of our own creation - Money, Power, Status, Success, Sex, Alcohol, or dozens of other things that might rule our life, or take precedence over God.

Instead, listen again to the opening words of todays Psalm:

The heavens declare the glory of God, *

and the firmament shows his handiwork.

One day tells its tale to another, *

and one night imparts knowledge to another.

Although they have no words or language, *

and their voices are not heard,

Their sound has gone out into all lands, *

and their message to the ends of the world.

It is hard to fully appreciate what this means - unless we get out of the city at night - in a really dark place - and then look up at a perfectly clear sky. Most recently I had this experience in my trips to South Sudan. The planets, the multitude of stars, the galaxy, that is our island home.

When almost 15 years ago Nancy and I visited Dinosaur National Monument - on the boarder of northwestern Colorado and Utah, with the girls, on one of our first trips together as a family; we marveled at fossils from 500 million years ago, and dinosaur bones from 150 million years ago. We are mer specks on the timeline of this tiny speck of a planet in our immense universe.

The reality is that if this is a simple representation of the power, breadth, depth of God - than there is no way that my brain can handle imagining the fullness, the complexity, the immenseness of a God who created it, and rules over it all.

Paul acknowledges this in todays reading from 1st Corinthians: “For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength.”

Even Jesus - walking the earth takes this tact according to Michael Battle, an episcopal priest. Michael says that in the gospels Jesus does not speak in parables “to confuse us, rather the parable is the judgement against confined ways of our thinking of boxing in God. Jesus (through these parables) is trying to cox us away from our limited way of understanding reality.”

We get stuck in answering the questions - in trying to understand a God that that is bigger than you or I can ever comprehend.

So how then do we cope? How do we understand? How do we comprehend?

Certainly it is not in the simplistic answers to the tough questions - for I will likely never understand why a tornado hits one house and not another - why a young mother dies of cancer while an apparent evil person lives to 90 disease free - why some are born to wealth and others destined to live lives in poverty? Why earthquakes and tsunamis are allowed to kill tens of thousands? Why some are born with multiple mental or physical disabilities?

Surprisingly for me -- it is in the simplicity, that I can find a way forward. I know I said that “simple answers to tough questions are often limiting of God”. But I also think the right “simple answer” can be immensely freeing.

We listened to the reading of the law this morning and I propose that our clue comes from Jesus’ summary of that law. Listen to Jesus words from Luke, it as it has been translated in the Message:

“Love the Lord you God with all your passion and prayer, and muscle and intelligence --and that you love your neighbor as well as you do yourself.”

The simplest answer in all the complexity of Theology may lay in this very simple word -- LOVE

This incomprehensible God - loves you and loves me -- and what we are called to do is to love each other. Because it is in loving each other that we learn how to love God - how to understand how much God loves us - you and I, tiny specks on the the timeline of this tiny speck of a planet in an immense universe.

In 1st John, John writes:

“If we won’t love the person we can see, how can we love the God we can’t see?”

You and I are called to make a difference - at this moment in time - on this island home. That is what we mean when during our renewal of baptismal vows we say that we

“will SEEK and SERVE Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourself”;

and

“will will STRIVE for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being”

Seek, Serve, Strive they are the active words of loving our neighbor.

It is here that we can put away our own gods - it is here that we can take God out of our box and honor that first commandment:

“I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me.”

During this lenten season I encourage you to reflect on--

What box have you placed God into?

How can you release the immensity of God into your life?

Who are you being called to love?

Where and how are you being called to seek, to serve, or to strive?

What gods have you you placed before the One God that keep you from doing this?

Let us pray:

O Divine Master, grant that we may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console;

to be understood as to understand;

to be loved as to love. Amen