God's Great River of Love

by Rev. Shelby Ochs Owen

This sermon is based on James 5:13-20. 

The prayer list in our bulletin here at Trinity is the longest I have seen in any church I have ever been a part of! The list is long enough that we actually divide it up among our three Sunday morning services.  And this is a GOOD problem to have! I think James our epistle writer for today would approve.  You may have noticed that on this list we have names of Trinity members and non-members, some who use only their first names and some who include last names, some are names of folks you know and some you will only know through offering their names to God in prayer; and some names will appear only once while others will remain on this list for years.  There is a great deal of mystery associated with this list and many questions raised.  Why pray? How does prayer work? DOES prayer work?

In our Epistle reading for today, James has concrete ideas of how his audience should respond to all sorts and conditions of people.  “Are any among you suffering? They should pray. Are any cheerful? They should sing songs of praise. Are any among you sick? They should call for the elders of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of our Lord.”  He goes on to say, “confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, so that you may be healed.”  When you think about the Episcopal Sunday Eucharist service, we have many elements of these concrete suggestions in it: we sing or say songs of praise, we make prayers of intercession, meaning we pray for individuals who are in need of healing or some other need, and we have a general confession.  So in a very general sense and in some specific ways we follow through with James’ teaching.

At the time James wrote his letter a tradition of the laying on of hands and using oil for healing purposes had been well established.  While in ancient Jewish tradition, oil was used for anointing a king or priest, it was often a remedy for pain.  In the New Testament oil is connected with healing. The practice is associated with Jesus himself as he sent out the 12 disciples to cast out demons and anoint many who were sick as a sign of the reign of God come near.  You probably remember the story of the Good Samaritan where the Samaritan poured oil on the wounded man. Jesus laid hands on the sick. The apostle Paul did the same.  When James teaches his audience to pray and anoint with oil in the name of the Lord, he is saying that they are to do what Jesus did, they are to invoke the name of Jesus to heal; there is power in the name itself, but to use the name is also to do that which Jesus would do and have us do, to love the way Jesus loved. 

We have a healing service here in the chapel each Wednesday morning at 10:30a.m. Anyone is welcome to come.  Usually we have around 6 or 7 people participate in a litany of prayers that we all say together and then we come to the altar for individual prayers.   People ask for prayers for themselves and on behalf of others.  This is a sacred time when we bring people before God, entrusting them to his saving and healing care.  At the end of each person’s prayer, the priest lays his or her hands upon the person’s head and anoints them with oil in the sign of the cross, and says a prayer similar to this: “I lay my hands upon you in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, asking him to uphold you this day, that you may know the power of Christ’s unfailing love.”  There is power in invoking Jesus’ name to heal.  The one who prays is not the healer but simply a vehicle or instrument of God’s healing grace.  It is God who heals.  Sometimes the person being prayed for actually feels something change or shift and sometimes no change consciously registers.  But whether we can see or feel the results, this simple act of faith is what we are called to do and trust God to do his work.  How prayer works and exactly what happens when we pray is difficult to say but prayer does draw us closer to the divine.  

When we pray for others, we are bringing them to Jesus, which is one of the most loving things we can do for anyone.  I often hear people say, when they are in the middle of a situation that seems impossible, “I guess all we can do is pray,” as if that is not much of an offering, as if that is a puny and powerless gesture.  What if we rearranged our thinking and chose to believe that praying for someone is to actually put their hand into the hand of God, that praying for someone is to bring them to the feet of Jesus himself so he can touch them? What can be better than that?

Sometimes the need for prayer for so many in our midst can seem overwhelming. Indeed this wonderfully long list of prayers in our bulletin can overwhelm some of us.  No doubt that each of us could and probably many of us do lift up more names as we go through our days.  A wise friend of mine Liz sees praying for others as an opportunity to give people over to God’s unfailing care.  With each person she prays for she sees it as intentionally placing them in the great river of God’s love.  This river is so wide, so deep, so huge, so beautiful, so beyond our imagining and as we give each person to God’s care through prayer they become part of this great river.  The river image can remind us to trust that God is in charge, that God is sovereign and that God is compassionate.  Then we do what we can do-- it may be to send someone a card or to call them or to visit or to take a meal or to take them to the doctor. (And these things are prayer, too…)

When we pray for others and for ourselves we enter the mysterious place where human and divine activity are one and we cannot even see where one ends and the other begins.  When we pray for others and for ourselves we are reminded that we are part of a community where people are in need of God and one another.  When we pray for others and for ourselves we are better able to see the divine image of God in others and in ourselves.  Prayer is the way we nurture the relationship between human life and the divine realm.  When we pray we make ourselves more vulnerable, and therefore more open to God’s healing touch.

 Where James writes that his audience is to call for the elders, the Greek word used is presbyteroi, which is often used by the later church to refer to priests but possibly here means simply those who are older in the faith.  So to put into practice this idea that we should ask others to pray for us, today I invite you to allow yourselves to be prayed for.  Immediately after you receive communion you are welcome to step over to the chapel to the right where I will be to lay hands upon you and anoint you and pray for you in the name of Jesus.  You don’t need to say a thing except your name or the name of someone who you would like for me to pray for.  We will pray and leave the results to God.  We will pray and we will place those for whom we pray in that great river of God’s love, which is not a bad place to be.

Not Being First

by Susan Peyton

This sermon is based on Mark 9:30-37. An audio version of this sermon is available here. 


One of the comforting things about the Gospel stories over the last few weeks, is how human the disciples were.  Jesus continually has to explain things, lead them on their journey, and probably wonder if they would ever get what he was saying.  Jesus did not pick the wisest men he could find, but rather, the ordinary, the common man.  All of us, in fact.  And I’ll bet most of us here have been a part of this story from Mark.  Not literally what he’s trying to teach them, but rather, the human interaction.  Scene one, happens in thousands of Math classrooms every single day of school.  Mrs Gross finishes explaining the problems for calculus homework.  Asks if there are any questions, and no one responds.  Again she says, are you sure there are no questions?  Silence.  On the way out of class, Susan says to Anne, “I have no clue what she was talking about, so I’ll call you tonight, okay?”  And Anne says, “uh oh, I thought you knew what she was talking about.”  There may be some good kids in the class, but no one was wise enough, or self confident enough to say, this makes no sense.  Something very simple, but many times we don’t want to admit we have no clue.  We are too proud, too ashamed, too frustrated to ask the questions.  That’s why I love it when I watch children, who simply say, “what is your name?”.  Just ask.  And just as calculus may be completely foreign to many people, the parables and teachings of Jesus are sometimes ones that take a little longer to peel the layers away.  I also hope the disciples finally learned to ask questions, or at least when they set off on their own journeys, they learned to ask directions.

And then there’s the second part of the story.  Get to Capernaum, Jesus wouldn’t let them stop in Galilee, so they finally get to their destination.  And Jesus looks around at them, and says, “Okay, so what were you arguing about?”  And a few of the guys were kind of hiding behind the others, and scuffling their sandals in the dirt.  “Um, nothing.”  And Jesus sits down and tells the disciples to gather around him.  And he says again, “Okay, it sounded like some of you were arguing on the way here, what was that about?” And he finally hears that each one thought they were the greatest.  My sister Anne and I loved to play with Mom, and we would alternate between saying she loved me best, or loved Anne best.  Even though Mom knew we were just fussing with her, she would always say, I love each of you the same.  It was important for us to know that Mom didn’t play favorites.  Sometimes one of us might need more help, or tried her patience too much, but she made sure we knew her love was the same for each of us.  Likewise, Jesus gets frustrated with the disciples.  They were human after all, and would compare themselves.  You know, they’d start thinking back to what Jesus had said about each one, and who got to sit next to him at dinner.  And then instead of saying who he liked best, Jesus says the first must be last and should wait on everyone else.  Don’t you wonder if they then start arguing about who had carried the heaviest bundle, or helped the most with crowd control?

Doug and I have had several occasions to witness everyone trying to be first in the last few days.  Doug hadn’t been to Wrigley Field, so we went to Chicago to see a few Cubs’ games.  And it started at the airport.  Everyone crowding in to be first, the same at the baseball games.  We all had tickets with our seat numbers.  It isn’t like anyone else will get our seat.  Now I will say that Friday they were giving out free Cubs tshirts, so everyone was scrambling to get into the stadium first.  But they were giving out 20,000 tshirts and their crowd is usually only 25,000, so most people would get a tshirt!

And at work lately, it seems to be a perverse badge of honor to work the most hours.  Really?  I’ve caught myself and realized how destructive this thinking is.  And how simple  minded.  You can’t work hard if you are exhausted.  Instead I can only compare myself…to me.  Am I remembering to look for the insignificant, the lonely, the ones in the corner?  Do I have the sense to welcome those who are harder to love?  And what if sometimes, I’m the one who is harder to love?  James speaks of wisdom, giving it characteristics that resemble other passages about love.  Wisdom to know yourself, wisdom to know to ask the question, not worry what others think of you for revealing that you don’t know.  Wisdom is pure, peaceable and gentle.  And it starts within us.

I’m taking a Dale Carnegie class for work.  I had always presumed that Dale Carnegie classes were all about public speaking, so tried to get out of it.  That didn’t work.  But, I’ve found out two of the other exercises are setting personal goals, and working on stress.  Frankly I can use all the help I can get on how to eliminate stress.  There are sayings from his book How to win friends and influence people.  Two principles really struck me:  ‘Don’t criticize, condemn or complain.’ And ‘fill your mind with thoughts of peace, courage, health and hope.’  Both of them speak to being wise, and caring about everyone else in your community.  Also, avoiding conflicts by following both of those principles.  We also were to focus on one of the principles, so I’ve been trying to stop criticizing, condemning or complaining.  It’s not going so well.  Perhaps if Doug and I spent a week apart, I’d do a little better on the “no criticizing” part.  Why is it so much easier to dwell on the negative instead of the positive?  Do we pray for ourselves or for others?  For our personal gain, or for the good of all?  Do I really need a phone that is smarter than I am?  And why do people scream at TVs, computers and cars or tractor trailers on the interstate?  It’s hard enough to work with people, what do folks think the TV is going to do, answer you back?
  
So this week, I will try not to criticize, condemn or complain.  I’ll look for the people who are the forgotten.  And I’ll try not to be first.  Amen.

Who Do You Say That I Am?

by the Rev. Dr. Paul S. Nancarrow

This sermon is based on Mark 8:27-38. An audio version of this sermon may be found here.

Jesus said to his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” And Peter answered, “You are the Messiah.”

In this dialogue from our Gospel lesson today, Peter responds to the question of Jesus, and he gives the right answer. But, as he discovers almost immediately, his right answer is not yet the whole answer. To identify Jesus as “Messiah” is not untrue — but in order to get closer to the whole truth, Peter has to learn more about what being the Messiah, the Anointed One of God, really means for Jesus. And Peter, and all the disciples, have to learn more about what being followers of the Messiah will mean for them.

Because in Peter’s day there were floating around several different and competing ideas about what the Messiah would be like. Some people expected the Messiah to be a military commander, who would rally the Jewish people to drive out the Romans and be a King like David. Some people expected the Messiah to be a supernatural figure who would bring judgment, and initiate the great battle between good and evil that would end this world, and would vindicate to the faithful. But Jesus explains that being Messiah means undergoing great suffering, and being rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and being killed, and on the third day being raised. That was a kind of Messiah that Peter had never thought of before, and it took some digesting for him to get used to it.

And if Jesus was a different sort of Messiah than Peter had expected, that made Peter a different sort of disciple than Peter had expected. A follower of a military commander would be a soldier, a fighter in the Jewish People’s Liberation Army. A follower of a supernatural judge would be a holy man, pledged to exceptional personal purity and exact religious ritual. But followers of Jesus, Peter learns, must deny themselves, and take up their cross, and not be ashamed of Jesus and his words, and be willing to lose their life for Jesus’ sake in order to find their life for Jesus’ sake.

Peter has to learn more deeply what it means for Jesus to be the Messiah; and in the process Peter has to learn more deeply what it means for him to be a disciple of the Messiah, too.

And what really fascinates me is that Peter's learning didn’t stop with the scene in today’s Gospel.

After the Resurrection, Jesus appears to Peter and asks him three times, “Do you love me?”, and instructs him three times, “Feed my sheep.” And Peter learns that the Messiah is One who calls us to be filled more and more with God’s eternal love, and that a follower of the Messiah is one who nourishes others with that love.

And even later, in a story told in the Book of Acts, the Ascended Jesus sends Peter a vision that tells him to go eat and drink and live with Gentiles and preach to them, even though Peter has never before in his life broken the kosher laws in order to fraternize with Gentiles in that way. And Peter learns that the Messiah is meant for more than just the Jewish people, and that being a follower of the Messiah means reaching out beyond your own circle of friends, beyond your own clan and kind, in order to share Good News with anyone, absolutely anyone, who has ears to hear.

All through his life and ministry, Peter was challenged to learn and learn again what it means to call Jesus “Messiah” — Peter was challenged to learn and learn again what it means to be a follower of Jesus the Messiah. Jesus said to Peter, “Who do you say that I am?”, and Peter kept discovering more and more and more in his answer.

And that’s the way it is for us, too. Jesus says to us, “Who do you say that I am?” — and Jesus challenges us to discover more and more and more in the way we answer.

When I was a child we had a Sunday School lesson about Jesus the Good Shepherd, and I learned to see Jesus as the one who would always keep me safe when things got scary, who would always go looking for me when I strayed off — and that being a follower of Jesus meant praying to him to show me the right way to go and the right thing to do.

When I was a teenager I got very intrigued with the image of Jesus as the rebel, who was always calling the authorities into question, the one with the long hair and the beard who gathered a commune and was their guru — and that being a follower of Jesus meant meditating on his wisdom and challenging anything that seemed shallow or un-intense or inauthentic. Hey — I was a teenager, and it was the ’70’s…

When I was in seminary I learned to see Jesus as the Great High Priest, who took common bread and wine and made them the holy sacrament of Body and Blood, who took death on the cross and made it the holy sacrament of new life — and that being a follower of Jesus meant taking the common things of our lives and consecrating them as sacraments and signs of God’s holy love.

When I studied liberation theology I learned to see Jesus as the one who stands with the poor and calls us to liberate the oppressed. When I studied ecological theology I learned to see Jesus as the Savior of more than just the human race, but the one who teaches us how to live in community and communion with the biosphere, with the ecosystem, with the whole Community of Creation in God. When I studied missional theology I learned to see Jesus as the one who lives out God's mission of New Creation, and who calls and empowers and sends us to be agents of creation in everything we do.

Jesus has said to me, “Who do you say that I am?” — and all of my answers have been right answers, and none has been the whole answer. The image of Jesus I had as a child wasn’t enough to meet the challenges of being faithful as a teenager. The image of Jesus I had as a teenager wasn’t enough to meet the challenges of being faithful as an adult. The image of Jesus I have now won’t be enough to meet the opportunities of becoming more fully alive in Christ that God yearns to give me in the future. Like Peter in the story, I have to learn and learn again what it means to call Jesus “Messiah,” and to learn and learn again what it means to call myself a follower of Jesus the Messiah.

And that is an adventure that we are all in together. We are all constantly outgrowing our images of Jesus, constantly needing to learn more deeply what kind of Messiah Jesus is, and what kind of disciples we can be. One of the great tasks — one of the great joys — of being in Christian community together, is that we can learn from each other new ways of seeing Jesus, and new ways of living our discipleship in mission and ministry and prayer and love.

And that is a big part of what we are doing here today. As we begin a new program year, as we commission Sunday school teachers and acolytes and choir members for another year of formation and service and worship, as we begin this week a new series of adult Christian formation study groups, as we get back into the full swing of our parish life together — it all centers on how we learn together new ways of seeing Jesus, new depths of understanding what it means to call Jesus Messiah and Lord and Savior, and new dimensions of what it means to call ourselves disciples and followers and missioners of Jesus.

Jesus says to us, “Who do you say that I am?” May we each answer from our heart, and show forth that answer in our lives. Amen.

Train Leaving Either Way

by The Rev. Shelby Ochs Owen

This sermon is based on Mark 7:27-34. An audio version of this sermon is available here. 


Have you, by chance, been listening to any political rhetoric lately? Have you had a moment or two when you said to yourself, “Did that politician actually just say what I think I heard?” There have been many bloopers and blunders in the political arena as of late, many “I can’t believe what he/she just said” moments, coming from both political parties. And there’s absolutely nothing new about that.

Well, some of us find ourselves reacting similarly to Jesus’ statement in today’s Gospel passage from Mark. A Syrophoenician woman, a Greek, comes to Jesus, bows desperately at his feet and begs him to heal her demon-possessed daughter. We might expect Jesus to grant her request without hesitation but instead, Jesus says to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Did he really just say that? Yes, he has just compared this woman to a dog, the “children” referring to the Jews and the “dogs” referring to all others. And just as the shock of Jesus’ highly insulting comment hits the reader, the woman comes right back at him, perhaps just as shockingly, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” The woman is a Gentile, a non-Jew, and many of the Gentiles in the region of Tyre were wealthy at the expense of exploiting the Jewish peasants, the farmers whose food they would have consumed. So there was bound to be a great deal of hostility from the Jews toward the Gentiles here.
Jesus is likely also exhausted, both physically and mentally. Not so long ago, just a chapter or so back, you may recall, having been in the full throes of his ministry, Jesus was trying to get away with his disciples for some rest, some quiet, some time alone ; Mark wrote, “they had no leisure even to eat” and he ended up feeding 5000 plus for dinner! Now Jesus is trying to get away again. “He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there but he could not escape notice.” So it seems that Jesus was eager to have that time alone. Perhaps he felt his cup was empty and needed solitude to be replenished, and here comes someone- a woman, a Gentile, someone who represents those who have oppressed his people and she is asking for something from him. “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Jesus’ mission was primarily to the Jews but it would eventually include the Gentiles. Did Jesus not know this yet? Did he grow in wisdom? Was this woman helping him to more fully understand his mission? “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Did she know something Jesus did not?

The story holds a certain tension that begs the questions of who Jesus was and who he was to become, and what does it mean for Jesus to be fully human and fully divine. In this passage Jesus, a very human Jesus, responds to someone in a very human way, perhaps out of his exhaustion and frustration but then he is taken in by her word, her wit and is indeed moved by her. This Gentile woman who may normally have been in a position of strength humbles herself and presents herself as one of the “least of these” to Jesus. She speaks a word of truth to Jesus, and he is quick to reorient his vision, to be opened to transformation. And being opened to the truth, being opened to transformation is always of the divine movement. Jesus and the woman were willing to be touched by the other, willing to be opened to the truth, willing to be opened to the divine.

Jesus does end up healing this woman’s daughter because it was within his nature to do so. He could not be anything but who he was, which is fully Divine. The encounter between Jesus and the woman reminds us of the irrepressibility of God’s reign, that God’s love knows no boundaries, no limits, no horizon. God cares for and loves all people.

In the movie “About a Boy,” Hugh Grant’s character Will makes an effort to meet women by joining a club for single parents even though he has no children and actually does not even like children. He meets a young boy whose mother is in this group and the boy takes a great liking to Will. Over time, the boy reflects back to Will that he sees right through him, pointing out the various lies and deception that Will has come to live with both outwardly and inwardly. The lovely thing though is that the clever boy still loves Will, even with his faults and outrageous behavior. Over time Will is opened to the truth in himself that the boy is able to point out, and Will actually develops a heart and becomes more fully a human being as he is able to actually love other people. The boy through his love is able to help Will be opened to the truth in himself and therefore opened to love. Will’s world which had been increasingly small in his previously self-serving and self-deceptive life expands into a wider view as truth and love make their way in.

We have choices every day about whether we will be opened to the truth or close ourselves off to it and choose to live in a much smaller, shriveled up existence. We can allow God to expand our worlds or we can let our world become narrow and restricted. As we age we will come across all sorts of situations in life where we have decisions to make. Will we be opened to God’s love and forgiveness for us and for everyone else? And will we be open to God’s call for us to love ourselves and everyone else? Not just those who are easy to love but love all those who come across our mental and physical paths? Each new day do we find ourselves more able to love or do we find ourselves getting more narrow in our view of who is worthy of our love? Jackson Browne wrote a song that includes the line, “There’s a train every day, leaving either way.” Which way is your train going? Is the train heading to a more narrow, fear filled, “me”-based, restrictive world or is your train heading to a more forgiving, more accepting, more loving, God-centered world? Is the direction you are heading all about you or is it about serving others, particularly the “least of these?”

Jesus may have believed his mission was only to the Jews and was willing to expand his understanding, willing to grow in wisdom, willing to be touched by those in his path. Maybe he needed the Syrophoenician woman to shake him up before he was willing and able to be opened to the divine truth that God’s redeeming love was for everyone, Jew and Gentile, woman and man, the oppressed and even for the oppressor. To be opened to the truth of God’s love, this is what God asks, no--- this is what God demands, of us, to expand our horizons of those worthy of our care, worthy of our forgiveness, worthy of our love.

There is a train every day leaving either way…

If it weren't for other people ...

By Susan Peyton

This sermon is based on Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9, Psalm 15, James 1:17-27, and Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23. 

This  week I have been frustrated with people.  There’s the simple things… like someone who emails a question you have already answered.  And they even replied to the email that contains the information.  Or an email asking a question I know that person has the answer to.  Or, ask me about a meeting I didn’t attend, but the other person did.  My crystal ball is still on back order.  But the most frustrating has been one person who consumed hours from 4 different staff people, brought one volunteer to tears, another one may quit, and two other volunteers have also been sucked into the drama.  Then I realize I’m allowing that person the power to control my emotions. Okay Susan, breathe deeply.  And then I read these lessons.  And God in His gentle voice says, Susan, perhaps you should read these lessons a few more times.  I’m not sure you got my message.  And from somewhere, my mother’s voice chimes in, I’m just disappointed in you.  Great.  Now I have loads of guilt added in.  

So here’s my checklist.  Deuteronomy.  Keep God’s commandments, to show how wise and discerning you are.  Need to work on that.

Psalm 15.  Who will be with the Lord?  I don’t think speaking my perception of the truth from my heart is exactly what God is looking for.  And maybe I need to work on the contempt for my neighbor part.  Failed two out of two, not looking so good.  But that’s okay, there’s two more readings to go.

James.  Oops.  Quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness.  Guess I’d better spend a lot more time studying this one.  The Father of lights,  who gave us birth by the word of truth.  Then as good Christians, we should also be a source of light and truth, passing it on to those in need.  Not just listen to God’s word, but then go forth and help the next person.  And to realize that God’s word has no variations or shadows.  The word shadows jumped out at me.  How many times do I try to justify things, allowing it to be “a little bit grey”.  To be just a little bit over the line.  No shadows. God’s words are pretty clear, we are the ones who try to muddle with them.  

Yesterday was the 66th anniversary of my parents’ wedding.  So Mom and Dad have been on my mind a lot.  We have wonderful photographs from the wedding.  Even the two of them kissing in front of the mantle at my grandparents’ house.  With a mirror on top of the mantle.  Mom was somewhat hesitant about people whose names were in the newspaper too much.  Not quite, but almost where your birth announcement, wedding and obituary were all that was needed.  I know she also felt that you shouldn’t look at yourself in mirrors every time you passed one, for that was being vain.  So James’ description of “those who look at themselves in a mirror and immediately forget what they were like” really hit me.  If I look in a mirror, I’ll see that I’m having a bad hair day and I still haven’t lost 50 pounds.  But do I ever look at my reflection and see beyond my physical shell ?  Do I look for a pure heart, someone who brings blessings to others? Caring for those in need?  Do I allow myself to remain unstained by the world?  Do I allow others’ frustrations to color my thoughts? I look at the power of society, the internet, political advertising, songs, the media, and that their words twist the truth, edit someone’s words,  blame or convict those who are innocent.  Poisonous thoughts can spread, no filter of truth to stop them.  Are we accountable for our words and actions?  Do we keep ourselves accountable for our thoughts?  God’s word has the power to save our souls, but are we following His words?  All of them, not just the easy ones?  Whew.  Okay, so I’ve not done well on any of these readings so far.  There’s still hope, Mark’s lesson, maybe?  

As Episcopalians, we love tradition.  Here at Trinity we have amazing stained glass windows, a wonderful pipe organ, the woodwork is carved beautifully, and there’s even brass railings, needlepoint, the altar, vestments, chalices, etc.  Mark is asking us to reflect, have our traditions become more important than the message?  Oh thank goodness, finally a question I can answer the right way.  While our traditions are important, they are here to glorify God and add to our worship, not become the object of our worship.  Wednesday was the last Mass on the Grass of the season.  The setting for that is purely God’s handiwork, surrounded by nature,  with few embellishments.  Definitely a time to glorify God, and not our traditions.  This morning, if I lit the wrong candle first would it disrupt our worship?  If a prayer is left out, will we not be forgiven?  Tonight I’ll go to Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women to help with their monthly communion service.  We’re in a gym, the candles are battery operated, we use Welch’s finest grape juice, and it’s always a question if the loaf of bread can be broken or will it crumble.  Each person’s traditions are different from the person next to them.  It does not matter.  The traditions pale in comparison to God’s gifts to us, and the celebration of Holy Communion.  We are forgiven if we ask.  What is important, following all the rules or rubrics, or being a beacon of God’s light out in the world ? Welcoming all in need, not judging their appearance or practices.  Saying our prayers without listening to the words, or living our covenant with God ?

For me, the weekly Eucharist brings hope.  The hope that I will continue to strive to follow God’s word, the knowledge that He will continue to forgive me, the conviction that together we will continue to do His will out in the world.  And above all, that this isn’t a quiz to pass or fail, but rather a process, a journey with God, one day at a time. Tomorrow, as many of us enjoy a day with our families or other leisurely pursuits, let us think of the invisible, the ones who allow us to take a day off.  Those in the military, fire and rescue, emergency room, garbage collectors, convenience and grocery store workers.  And in a few months, those who fix the downed electrical or phone lines, plow our roads.

And this coming week, I will try to stop at every mirror, look into my soul, and pray that I will be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to anger.  Amen.