The sermon text is printed below the sermon audio… this was a challenging text for me to understand, to expound and (to be honest) to claim as my own. As I say in the sermon: “The Lord is not finished with me, with you or with us…”
Sermon preached at Trinity Church, Newport RI; Sunday November 17th 2019. The Reverend Alan Neale; “Get on the ‘Bus”
Isaiah 65:17: “The former things shall not be remembered or come to mind”, or Message Translation “All the earlier troubles, chaos, and pain are things of the past, to be forgotten”.
This text prompted me to think of an African-American spiritual that originated during the period of slavery but was not published until 1867. It has been sung by many famous artists, but for some reason I remember it being movingly rendered by Lena Horne. The song has appeared in a bewildering number of contexts and I think it makes a deep impact on its hearers because it speaks to something deep, primal, psychic in our being…
The first verse:
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve been through
Nobody knows my sorrow
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Glory hallelujah! (and at some point the last line was changed to “Nobody knows but Jesus”.)
As each one of us moves through life we discover that troubles not only beset us as they happen but the remembrance of them can maim, disfigure even mutilate us for a long time after the event… at times even on our death-bed.
But hear the promise…So do you hear anew the powerful promise of this text…
In the final and third part of Isaiah (sometimes called Trito-Isaiah, probably not written by the original Isaiah but true to the Isaiah School of thought) the people of Israel are enjoying the fruits of their return to Palestine but the enjoyment is marred as they recall “the trouble they’ve seen”; if only it were possible to forget all that was painful, debilitating, shameful and distorting their vision and hindering their enjoyment of the moment – weeping and cries of distress, premature loss of life, futile labor and destroyed homes. They had been invaded by the Babylonians, the Temple had been destroyed and their leaders had been relocated and abjectly treated – none of this is wholesome and fun stuff for scrapbooks.
To such a people then and to us now, the Lord offers this tremendous promise… Isaiah 65:17 “The former things shall not be remembered or come to mind”, Message Translation “All the earlier troubles, chaos, and pain are things of the past, to be forgotten”.
But how is this to be made possible?
Before I attempt an answer, just a tiny digression into the Hebrew of our text (and it will be as brief as is my knowledge of Hebrew!). The word used for “mind” in our text is a mistranslation, the Hebrew word would be better translated as “the belly” – the place of emotion and feeling, the deepest place within our being that is not subject to rational thought and argument but feels, senses, intuits that leads us to speak of a “gut feeling” or a “gut reaction”.
You see the promise of our text is not that we receive some spiritual frontal lobotomy that eradicates the facts, the history, the truth of “past troubles” but rather that the Holy Spirit so reaches deep into our hearts that they are renewed and set free from the sensate reactions to the past.
It is crucial to notice the context of our promise; the verses surrounding the text are packed with references to the present action of the Lord… v.17 “Pay close attention now, I am creating new heavens and a new earth” (PRESENT TENSE), v.18 “But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating (PRESENT TENSE); for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy”(PRESENT TENSE). We need nurture a firm conviction, a bold assurance, a passionate certainty that the Lord is at work, is in process, is active – being grasped by this conviction is more than sufficient to change a heart burdened by hurts of the past. One commentator somewhat dryly describes this divine process like this… “the participial form in verse 17 suggests that creation is God’s on-going activity; (this) ideal world is being created ‘new’ every day. Divine blessings radiate out into the steppe and the wilderness, the abode of wild and dangerous creatures” and listen to this paean of praise “every day, God recreates this cosmos: a world of harmony, prosperity and joy.”
As I was thinking about this theme, I had in my mind the times when safety rules were lax and it was then possible to jump onto a slowly moving train, leap onto a ‘bus just as it were leaving the stop… these vigorous images stirred in me the sense that day by day I am being presented with new opportunities to jump, to leap, to join Lord in this gloriously creative and ongoing process.
The Lord is not finished with me, and neither is He finished with you or with us. I believe that the daily (sometimes maybe even momentary) commitment/decision to jump onto the train or leap onto the ‘bus of God’s constant creativity will bring healing to my deepest being; that commitment, that decision will allow even the most painful, hurtful experiences to lose their tight, choking, gagging grip on my ability to laugh, to live and to love.
This past Wednesday I celebrated our Noon Eucharist. A verse from the Gospel demanded my attention – Matthew 9:36 “And when Jesus saw the crowds, he had compassion on them for they were harassed and helpless like sheep without a shepherd”.
Friends, as we are touched by the ongoing ever present active compassion of Jesus so our pains and hurts, our grudges and grievances, our anger and frustration from the past will be slowly healed and then we, like him, will see (really see) the ones around us who are hurt and alone. Those who need be led to that holy mountain where “they will neither hurt nor be destroyed.”
So, perhaps today when you come to the Table and receive Communion… with open hands you will offer to God a memory that stifles and cripples and ask to be healed and set free… remembering God’s promise: “The former things shall not be remembered or come to mind.
Lord help us. Amen
A quotation from Corrine Carvello:
“Isaiah 65:17-25 invites us to consider how our experience of God’s holiness changes the world for us. We may not feel a great need to domesticate lions, but what would the world look like if children did not die from disease or gun violence, if adults had complete access to the best medical care, and if everyone earned a livable wage so that their work was not in vain. What if everyone could have the children they wanted, knowing they could provide for them without anxiety? Isaiah tells us that this is the world that worship should invite us to imagine.”
Oh this Sunday I have never been more conflicted as to the text/s I should choose for the sermon. And though I wanted to preach on “Do the work of an evangelist”, I decided I needed to preach on the Gospel.
Below the audio (8am service) is the text, largely the basis for the sermon.
The 10am sermon was a little different, with a little more energy and much more participation. But overall… similar message. So good to have baby Siena participate (on time) with the sermon!
Sermon preached at Trinity Church, Newport RI; Sunday October 20 2019
The Reverend Alan Neale “So, what do I need Jesus?”
Luke 18:1 – “Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart.”
In 2005 a current presidential candidate co-authored with her/his daughter a book called “All your worth. The ultimate lifetime money plan.” It was based on the following 50/30/20 divide… 50% for needs, 30% for wants, 20% for credit payments and savings. It left unclear, though, how do we decide what are needs and what are wants and… interesting as we approach our stewardship season, it also left unclear whether giving back to God was a “need” or a “want”…???
Much earlier in 1943 Abraham Maslow created his pyramid of needs composed of five levels; the first four (starting from the beginning) he named D-Needs (Deficit Needs), the top level he named B-Needs (Being Needs). NEEDS – WANTS!
It would be unfair for me to ask baby Siena how she views her wants and needs; unfair and probably unnecessary because it’s obvious to her parents (Caroline and Frank) that her needs/wants are to be fed, to be kept warm but above all to be held and loved.
Well, the opening verse of today’s Gospel gives me my answer – “Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart.” In some archaic translations the word “need” is translated as “it behooves you”. Isn’t that a great word? Try it! “It behooves me to pray always and not to lose heart.”
So there we have it… Jesus’s analysis of our need. I could stop there but you know I won’t.
Let’s look at the context, the combination/the interlocking and the culmination of what Jesus considers to be our need.
The context. Look back in chapter 17 and you see the context is that Jesus is speaking to his disciples (17:1 & 22). Much, though not all, of Jesus’ teaching is addressed to those who have a relationship with him – they have observed his patience and acceptance, they have witnessed acts of power and authority, they have sat and walked and lived with him as a friend. Now this quality of relationship with Jesus is available to all (“Come to me all who labor and I will give you rest” – Matthew 11:28; “Behold I stand at the door and knock, open it and I will come in” – Revelation 3:20). And here we confront the classic chicken or the egg causality dilemma. In other words… which came first? The chicken or the egg? Is it our prayers and persistence that opens us to a relationship with Jesus; or is it the relationship that energizes the prayers and steels the persistence? Friends this tension will ever remain and so, to use a famous dictum of this week “Get Over It” and “Get on with it.”
The combination. Billy Bray was born in 1794; for years he was a godless man and most content with that condition. In 1823 this roue was roundly converted to Christ and began a powerful ministry preaching the Gospel throughout Cornwall. “I can’t help praising God.” Billy Bray insisted, “As I go along the street I lift up one foot, and it seems to say, glory. And I lift up the other, and it seems to say, amen, and so they keep on like that all the time I am walking.” Well, try this walking exercise… let the one step say pray, and the other step persist.” When Jesus speaks of our need to pray and not to lose heart, He does not offer us a choice of one or the other (this is no Christian buffet bar where we choose what we fancy). In his letter to the Philippians 2:12-13, Paul urges them “to work out their own salvation with fear and trembling (persist, do not lose heart” but then, I imagine with a smile, Paul writes, “For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases him.” We will hear this soon as Siena’s parents and sponsors make solemn promises with this response, “I will… with God’s help” – another chant for walking maybe? As I have learned in another fellowship… “I can’t, God can, I think I’ll let him.”
The culmination. Consider beginning and ending of today’s Gospel… Jesus puts our need in the perspective of a wonderful culmination, a spectacular finish, a crowning moment of exuberant color and joy when “God, patient as he is, will see justice done for his chosen, who appeal to him day and night? Be assured he will not delay in seeing justice done” Luke 18:8, J.B.Phillip’s translation). To pray and to persist we need to be reminded of the Sovereign Lord’s presence, purpose and plan – this is why we come into community, this is why we worship. *** The great Baptist preacher once said, “We will not grow weary of waiting upon God if we remember how long and how graciously he has waited upon us.” If we remove ourselves (for whatever reason) from the arena that celebrates the majesty, the sovereignty, the authority of God then our passion for prayer and persistence will abate. Remember we do not believe in prayer… we believe in the God who answers prayer.
I conclude on a personal note. Earlier this year (April 5) I suffered what my surgeon called “an heart explosion”, again in his words, “I died seven times”. For quite a while I had neither the strength nor the inclination to pray or to persist. The period of recovery (maybe something like a church interim period?) was beset with feelings of sadness, grief, hopelessness and despair. But at one point I heard the Lord say to me, “Alan, helplessness is not hopelessness.” Though I could not, or would not pray, others carried me; and when it was most dark to me others urged “do not lose heart.”
I pray that Siena will grow up with a desire to pray always and never lose heart; and I pray that by the power of the Holy Spirit you and I, this week, will pray often and not lose heart… as we walk, like Billy Bray, day by day. AMEN
*** 2 Corinthians4:16 So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. 17 For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, 18 because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.
Usually the sermon audio contains comments, phrases that are not written in the original text. Today, it’s all turned around. The audio here is the 8am sermon, between services I worked more on the sermon… so the text is for the 10am (without audio!). I sensed a greater connection with the congregation and with the Lord as I preached at 10am. The theme I believe is truly primal for us all; for all – some of the time, for some – most of the time, for a blessed few (or do I really mean blessed?) rarely.
Sermon preached at Trinity Church, Newport RI
Sunday October 13th 2019 The Reverend Alan Neale
“Bloom where you are planted”
This past week I observed some Facebook exchanges on the sad use of clichés even when faced with disaster and pain. With this in mind I decided to put my opening undeniable cliché into Latin – quo nunc es flore quod plantatum est . It somehow sounds better than – “Bloom where you are planted.” Or to quote Jeremiah 29:6-7 “Increase in number in exile – where you are; seek the prosperity of the city – where you are.”
It was doubtless galling for these exiles in Babylon, once some of the most prominent people in Jerusalem (financial wizards, powerful clerics, prominent socialites) to not only be lectured by this prophet born of common stock, this social “nobody, definitely not PLU (so unimportant even Nebuchnezzar did not bother to exile him) but told to settle down and settle in.
And yet their initial half-hearted compliance to “stay put and prosper” enabled Israel to wrestle with profound God questions, to learn that worship could happen anywhere, not just in the temple. In this period of exile much of the Hebrew Bible. In this period of exile synagogues became a vital part of the community.
Trying to settle in a place that seems alien, strange is an uncomfortable, disturbing experience and we see it all three readings today.
It was the experience of St. Paul. In a strange place (Rome), in strange accommodation (prison cell), in strange circumstances (in chains) Paul writes five glorious epistles describing the sovereignty of God and the power of the Gospel – Ephesians, Colossians, Philemon and two letters to the young minister Timothy, of which we heard part this morning. Now Paul needs no Jeremiah to prod him into faithful witness and glorious service, Paul needs no Jeremiah to shame and to challenge him. No, because Paul has grasped and has been grasped by a glorious belief… the story of incarnation (God is where we are) and of resurrection (God’s raison d’etre is to bring life out of death) – so Paul believes and so Paul proclaims. What a powerful comparison Paul makes when he says, “Though I am in chains… the Word of God is not chained”.
It was the experience of Jesus. On his journey he passes through strange and alien land (as least as far as the Jews were concerned); Samaritans and all things pertaining to them were anathema to the Jews so much so that one of the worst insults was to call someone, “You Samaritan”. And yet… in this strange land with unaccustomed practices and despised foreigners, Jesus discovers an opportunity for mission, for the proclamation of the Gospel. He is not constrained by social expectations or religious convention. He hears them, he sees them and he heals them… though only one, the Samaritan, returns to give thanks… and he is then restored in body and in soul.
And I think it was also the experience of the lepers themselves. They were all too accustomed to living in exile where were shunned, feared, ridiculed; they were alienated from good health and ostracized from good company. But despite their experience they dare cry out to the Master… “Jesus, have mercy on us.” But notice from where they make this plea… “keeping their distance”, “standing afar off”. Sometimes, friends, when we feel we are in unknown environments, maybe even alien, we too keep our distance – why? Maybe we are angry, or defiant, or in pain or in despair and more. What do you think?
(And a digression on the Gospel… I’ve always assumed that all the lepers were Samaritans and yet Jesus charges them “go to the priests” – fulfil some social obligation, receive a certificate of cleanliness; or maybe nine were Jews and one was a Samaritan… if so, interesting that their anguish, their pain, their suffering broke down customary barriers.)
A few days ago Bishop Jim and I discussed briefly perhaps one of the most poignant verses in Hebrew Scripture – some of you heard last Sunday Psalm 137, verse four.
How can we sing the Lord’s song is a strange land – KJV
I believe this to be one of the most succinct and eloquent expressions of a human condition known to us all; it speaks to those of us who (from time to time) feel displaced, dislodged, dislocated; it speaks to those who feel unnoticed, unobserved, undetected; it speaks to that sense of loneliness in a packed room, it speaks to that sense of worthlessness in a success-orientated society, it speaks to that sense of alarm when security and home are at risk.
This is a primal, psychic question, “How can I sing a song of/to the Lord in a strange land?”
It speaks to African Americans descended from abducted Africans, Native Americans living on reservations distant from their ancestral lands.
Does it speak to you? It surely has and does to me.
Years ago, as a young choir boy, I was puzzled by today’s collect which once read, “Lord we pray that thy grace may always prevent and follow us”. Prevent? Really? Then a friend explained “prevent” is from the Latin “prevenire” to go before. Hence now “we pray that your grace may always precede and follow us and “make us” (KJV ) be given to good works.
Soon, in our parish prayer we say these words, “Surround us with your love that we may feel/know your presence.” It is this gospel of grace always, always, always going before and following after us, that enables us to do good works… and to sing the Lord’s song in a strange land.
Click this youtube link to hear “How shall we sing in a strange land” – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CeFnTWszYJs
The little homily (homilette?) below was part of a Eucharistic service prepared to give thanks for donors to various projects to enhance our church and also to give thanks for those who actually did the work with mind and hand.
My colleague, Bishop James Jelinek, preached on what is to come; I was asked to preach on Giving Thanks and to put it in a theological/Biblical context.
All very unusual but done with a glorious purpose.
My sermon is below the audio copy of the homily.
Sunday September 29th 2019
The Reverend Alan Neale
If only we could fast forward two weeks… we would just have heard the Gospel reading from Luke 17; the story of the socially ostracized and physically maimed ten lepers. Jesus makes all ten bodily well but only one returns to say, “Thank You.” Of this one leper it is said, “You have been saved, made whole.”
The practice of saying “thank you” is somehow crucial, vital, essential to our total well-being.
A Bible passage often read at weddings is from the letter to the Colossian Christians, it contains this statement “whatever you do, in word or deed… give thanks” (3:19). This is indubitably a glorious foundation for a glorious relationship between partners, friends or colleagues.
When Jesus institutes, inaugurates, initiates Holy Communion we read (in all the Gospels) “he gives thanks.” When all hell is literally about to break loose Jesus “gives thanks” and thereby transforms an otherwise wretched situation. This primal act of giving thanks (Greek word – eucharisteo) leads some to call this service Eucharist; this primal act of giving thanks (Greek word – eucharisteo) leads us to call the church “an Eucharistic/thanksgiving community.” I am convinced that when the lonely, distressed, confused enter an authentic Eucharistic community they enter into the process of being saved and healed; I am convinced that when the comfortable, the settled, the secure enter an authentic Eucharistic community they are rescued from smug complacency and isolating self-sufficiency.
You mention Thanksgiving to many people and it will elicit images of over-indulgence, family chaos and waves of lassitude. But to us, a Eucharistic community, Thanksgiving brings images of vibrancy, vitality and vigor. I believe that the inclination, the disposition, the propensity to give thanks is the key to healthy living and such living is made possible as we grow in faith and trust in the Lord.
So McBean Trustees and HVAC workers, Landmark Preservation and Painters, Door Restoration Painters and creators of our Security, Parish Foundation Donors, not only are we deeply grateful for what you have done and who you are… we are doubly grateful for yet another opportunity to say “thank you”, it’s really, really good for us. Thank You… Amen
The text for the sermon is below the audio, and the audio is of the early 8am service not the later 10am. Hearing both (!) I am intrigued about the ad lib differences in content… maybe this says something about me waking up and/or about the needs and aspirations of those present.
I was so sorry not to preach on the Jeremiah passage with its emphasis upon “lament” and is poignant existential cry, “Is there no balm in Gilead?” but I could not resist what I consider the pull of the Holy Spirit whispering to me, “Preach on the Gospel” so here we go.
Sermon preached at Trinity Church, Newport RI;
Sunday September 22nd 2019
The Reverend Alan Neale;
“Now here’s a surprise…”
Luke 16:8 “8And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly” or (Message Translation) “Now here’s a surprise: The master praised the crooked manager!” “Now here’s a surprise…” – you think?
A few days ago I said to my wonderful new friend, Bishop Jim, “In 42 years I have never preached on the Luke 16 Dishonest Steward parable… and I do not intend to break that tradition.” He smiled kindly, spoke sympathetically and we moved on.
But here I am… lured by some invisible temptation, attracted by some psychic power… trying, by God’s grace, to preach on Luke 16!
Many parables occur in more than one of the Gospels but this parable occurs only in Luke and… do not tell a soul, I wish it had not made Luke either. And yet the parable with its surprises, its reversal of what is considered the norm, its espousal of the despised and its straight talk about money… all this is so commonly Luke. By the way, the church was once such a place of surprising reversals (maybe that’s why Luke wrote the Book of Acts, the story of the early church?); all too sadly many (most?) churches have become havens of the norm, worshippers of the status quo, bastions against change.
Today’s parable is preceded by the story of the Prodigal Son (he also “squandered” – the same word in Luke 16) and is followed by the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus. It’s almost as if Luke is presenting his reader with a spectrum of the way in which money can corrupt but not necessarily destroy… the young son, squanders all but repents and finds a home; the dishonest steward comes to his senses and acts shrewdly so that he may also find a home but the Rich Man remains resolute in his self-satisfied complacency and his is not a pretty end… no home for him! But then these are parables.
And they interpret parables best who look first and always to the teller of the parable and Luke 16:8, when Jesus takes a sharpie and underlines, the truth, here is where we must begin:
“8And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly”.
Maybe the parable is not so much, or only, about the dishonest steward but also, maybe primarily, about the master?
In this story the master acts with grace, deals with realities and honors the intention.
1. The master acts with grace. Many of us find it difficult to act with grace. We feel that someone has gone beyond the point of forgiveness; we feel that somehow we have been blessed with the knowledge of what really is the “unforgiveable sin”; some of us have become too firmly entrenched in the conviction that once a line is crossed it cannot be reversed. The master has been cheated probably by a friend whom he trusted, whom he chose to appoint to a high place of honor. Forgive the foray into psycho-babble but sometimes we are more hurt because our image has been damaged than someone else has acted badly.
The Master turns all this upside-down and he acts with almost unimaginable grace and loving condescension to someone whom the world would at best ignore, at worst vilify and exile.
2. The master deals with realities. This is how the Pharisees, the religious bigots, view the teaching of Jesus (Luke 16:14 “When the Pharisees, a money-obsessed bunch, heard him say these things, they rolled their eyes, dismissing him as hopelessly out of touch.” To act with grace is not to be a social ingénue, to act with grace is not indicative of some frontal lobotomy, to act with grace is not (to use a phrase once used by a young friend of mine) “rude, crude, impolite and socially unacceptable”. The master has his eyes fully open, he is not fool and yet still he acts with grace. Sometimes our own realities we try to hide from the One who made and loves us, but the delightful transformative nature of grace is that the Lord sees us we are are… and loves us. “Just as I am, though tossed about With many a conflict, many a doubt, Fighting and fears within without, O Lamb of God, I come, I come”.
3. The master honors the intention. At some point in this story the master steps back, reflects and realizes the intention of the corrupt manager. His intention now is twofold “to make friends” and “to find a welcome”. What will man and woman in all honesty not do in order to make friends and find a welcome; what will man and woman in all honesty not to in order to step out of crippling isolation.
In a sense, rather like the prodigal son, here the corrupt manager has come to his senses, he realizes that life is profoundly deepened by friends and by welcome. The master honors this intention. I happen to believe that this is a profoundly Anglican belief… we honor and uphold and seek to bless the intention of others… forgiving them wretched lapses on the way.
Friends, this Master in the parable is only a faint shadow, a mere outline of the Master, Jesus. Here is the one who constantly sees us as we are and loves us regardless; here is the one who knows what are our deepest heart’s desires no matter how buried they are by fear and dread, sin and carelessness; here is the one who constantly rushes to meet us with grace abundant.
Centuries ago, the prophet Jeremiah laments with heart heavy, tears streaming “Is there no balm in Gilead?”.
The spiritual says it all:
There is a balm in Gilead,
To make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead,
To heal the sin-sick soul.
Some times I feel discouraged,
And think my work’s in vain,
But then the Holy Spirit
Revives my hope again.
If you can’t preach like Peter,
If you can’t pray like Paul,
Just tell the love of Jesus,
And say He died for all.
Don’t ever feel discouraged,
‘Cause Jesus is your friend,
And if you lack for knowledge,
He’ll never fail to lend.
There is a balm in Gilead,
To make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead,
To heal the sin-sick soul.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts always be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our Strength and our Redeemer. Amen.
In the 1970s, the great historian Barbara Tuchman wrote a book she gave the title: A Distant Mirror. It is about the 14th century in Europe, particularly the 100 Years’ War, when a great number of the countries of that continent were led by their kings, dukes, popes and others to fight for conquest and power, perhaps occasionally in self-defense, but certainly for dominance.
I cannot remember if Professor Tuchman declared clear winners, but she concluded that all of them lost no matter how much land, how many people, how much bounty they gained. Her point was that each of these rulers, having invested so many of their country’s resources in war over an extended period of time, succeeded in bankrupting his country, so much so that the recovery was hard and slow.
This was a “distant mirror” to the period of the Viet Nam war and its consequences for us as a nation.
When we think of resources, it is not just the things that money can buy: weapons and the means to deploy them. The biggest resource was brave young men who went off to fight in the wars. Just imagine if those whose lives were taken or destroyed had not been conscripted— how many more teachers, scientists, entrepreneurs, artists and inventors would have populated those countries and contributed to their well-being. Another sacrifice was the hearts of those women who loved them and who were left to raise their children alone. Think further, for in many places hope died for a long time. The loss of so many, the crippling poverty because fields and crops and forests had been destroyed, the lack of safe and secure homes, the lack of a source of inspiration for children caused depression in every way and every kind.
So, even in that overwhelmingly masculine-dominated society, the women and children paid a dear price, some as collateral damage and almost all of the others in the lack of opportunity to gain knowledge and skill.
Tuchman’s book illustrates that these leaders were willing to spend whatever it took to win—including human lives, without seriously considering the greater consequences.
I begin with this because I think this is what Jesus is addressing in today’s gospel passage, and because so many world leaders are speaking loosely and glibly about going to war, the most deadly brinkmanship there is.
Jesus says, “What king, going out to wage war against another king will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with 10,000 to oppose the one who comes against him with 20,000? Today we might add tallies of things like ships, planes, bombs, missiles, atomic weapons. Jesus’ statement puts the spotlight on leaders in a way that we may assess and measure the cost of the drive to win, to dominate, because we weigh it in terms of the harm they cause. This is not a statement of pacifism; it is rather a statement about wisdom and good judgment and being faithful to the people one serves as their leader, to do one’s best for them.
Continuing on this larger, societal scale, Jesus also says, “Which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down to estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him….”
Let’s bring this home. What if Jesus had said, “Which king, intending to build a WALL, does not first sit down and estimate the cost to see whether he has enough to complete it?”
That question is a current existential and political dilemma for us, not even bringing in the further question of whether a wall is the best way to accomplish an objective, whether a wall will even work. All of us have views on this and I think we are in the midst of something with no easy solutions. And there is little courage or statesmanship on the national level. Whatever may come of this, the danger is a massive depletion of resources and the sowing of ever greater division in this country and between us and other countries.
This gospel may hit home even deeper if we substitute a few more words for those of Jesus: “What priest and congregation, wanting to build a parish hall, does not first sit down and estimate the cost to see whether they have enough to complete it? Otherwise, when they have laid a foundation and are not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule them….”
This seems to be the major source of frustration, some friction and some division in our congregation. In the 75 or so days since I first interviewed with the Wardens and the Vestry, this seems to be the issue around which we have real disagreement, and I have heard several sides. It sometimes seems difficult to imagine how to proceed from here. To abandon the original vision and the effort already given, and call it a failure would be a difficult and costly decision to make, surely causing the loss of members who are vital to this community. To go ahead with the original vision and plan has seemed unworkable enough that there are revisions being prepared for us to consider. Unfortunately, much of that work of revision has been limited to the building itself, while over these past few years some of the needs are changing, and I think this calls for a revisioning that we, Trinity’s current members and some others, can do together.
What many of you do not yet see are the new opportunities that are emerging—opportunities to have a bigger dream with new partners. These are so new that the Vestry discussed them just this week.
I think many of these opportunities will be visible in jointly sponsored programs by the end of the year, programs that benefit both us and the Newport community. They will be consistent with the mission of Trinity to serve as a faith community where we have served for 321 years.
It is my hope that we shall not plunge ahead and deal with the building first. If we do we are not likely to build something that will suit any expansion. The Vestry is looking to see whether partnering with Seamen’s Church Institute and Newport Community School might work for us and them. We shall decide in late September whether to go ahead or not, and if we do this would mean using both the Church and Honyman Hall much more fully than we do at present. We think if that is successful then we shall consider what might be needed for all of us on the site of the Carr-Rice building. All this has been developing since the beginning of August when each of these bodies approached us.
Personally, I am very excited. This feels like the Holy Spirit is dangling the possibility of a larger vision in front of us, one that will stretch our imagination and stretch our hearts. If this continues, that will be a powerful reason to go ahead with our capital campaign because of expanded purpose and opportunity.
While standing here on the mountaintop (our pulpit), ten feet above criticism, I have found a new set of Ten Commandments which I want to commend to you:
I. Thou shalt ask lots of questions, because the Vestry really wants to be transparent.
II. Thou shalt volunteer to be part of the thinking and planning groups as they emerge, for the Vestry is looking for internal partnerships as well.
III. Thou shalt read the eTower each week for more news and updates.
IV. Thou shalt come to whatever meetings are held to discuss possibilities and what is being tried.
V. Thou shalt keep an open mind.
VI. Thou shalt speak thy peace as clearly as thou canst, for we cannot move forward without having clarity and yet we cannot hold back the Holy Spirit just out of fear or disagreement.
VII. Thou shalt NOT label people thou disagreedst with.
VIII. Thou shalt Not give ultimatums either internally or aloud, like saying, “If that happens, I am out of here.” When we think that way we make it come true by boxing ourselves in.
IX. Thou shalt speak to thy friends when they are ready to make an ultimatum, telling them you love them and asking them to hold it in and let go a bit.
X. Thou shalt open thy heart to this as well as thy mind.
From my vantage point, as I have been trying to communicate in person and in writing is that healing is happening, and with that ideas are starting to emerge. We do not need to rehearse the problems of the earlier part of this venture endlessly, and it is time to stop trying to find others to blame. That is done and what is done cannot be changed. But what comes tomorrow is change itself, in our attitudes, our relationships and in the hope God gives us. It is my conviction that God is with us in this and my expectation God will continue with us every step of the way if we are faithful.
One of the Bible verses with which we conclude Morning Prayer is this one from Ephesians which I find particularly appropriate today:
Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine: Glory to him from generation to generation in the Church, and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever. [3:20,21]
+James L. Jelinek
August 25th (the day of the sermon) was a day of commemoration for the first “20 and odd” enslaved Africans brought to America 400 years ago. They began to establish the English Colony at Point Comfort, Virginia. Several were then transported to establish and build the Jamestown Colony. To commemorate African ancestors and their descendants who have had a large share in building what became the United States, bells will ring across the nation. Trinity Church bells rang for four minutes, one minute for each 100 years. This sermon was inspired by the texts for the day and this special act of Commemoration.
Sermon preached at Trinity Church, Newport RI
Sunday August 25th 2019
The Reverend Alan Neale
“Free Birds or Caged?”
A few words from the poem Caged Bird by Maya Angelou
The free bird thinks of another breeze… and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
And the big fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn… and he names the sky his own
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams… his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied… so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill… of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill… for the caged bird sings of freedom.
Here Maya Angelou describes poignantly and perfectly the two societies of caged and free, of those who experience de facto awful fear and those who lives are filled with awesome wonder.
This is the dichotomy well expressed in our epistle Hebrews 12 – the awfulness of Mount Sinai that dared not even be touched and the awesomeness of Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem. The scene around the first is ominous for the eye and ear with burning fire, darkness, gloom, windstorm and noise of trumpets. The scene around the second is truly winsome with angelic choir, warm community, and the joy of forgiveness and acceptance.
I think that much of our lives as individuals, families or nations is spent in this dichotomy, either submerged by captivity or enhanced by freedom. We are at our best as we work for freedom and at our worst as we settle for captivity within ourselves and for others.
For eighteen years the woman in Luke’s Gospel 13 had been crippled, “bent over and quite unable to stand up straight”. But her captivity was soon to end as with a word Jesus calls her to him and announces, “Woman you are set free.”
This is indeed the ministry constantly, avowedly of our Lord Jesus. The same Lord Jesus who at the beginning of his ministry proclaims “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release for the captives…” Luke 4:18.
For any confined by resentment, fear, shame, anger… Jesus stands before them, maybe even some of us, and aches and yearns to set them, set us free.
When the doleful prophet Jeremiah admits his sense of inadequacy (a damning captivity often imposed upon us and, so wretched, at times accepted by us as true) the Lord propels him from captivity to freedom. This dynamic brings to mind the athlete Joe Namath who once said, “Until I was 13, I thought my name was ‘shut up’).
Listen to this exchange (Jeremiah 1:6-8) “6 Then I said, “Ah, Lord GOD! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.” 7 But the LORD said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am only a boy’; 8 Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, says the LORD.”
Friends, this transition from fear to courage, from bondage to emancipation is most particularly experienced and most securely possessed as we give ourselves to worship. Listen to these words from Hebrews 12:28 “28 Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe; 29 for indeed our God is a consuming fire.” It is our best efforts at worship that will secure for us freedom and allow the consuming fire of God to wrestle dross and trash from our lives. It is this authentic worship that both comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable; it is this authentic worship of which Abp. Donald Coggan when he said, “We are here to feed the sheep not entertain the goats.” Bible commentator Bryan Whitfield writes, “The goal of our worship is not entertainment, nor do we consume worship as a commodity. To worship God is to encounter God, to hear God’s voice, to be transformed. True worship does not leave us as we are, at ease with illusions of our own power and significance. Rather, it makes us aware of the impermanence of all human lives and institutions as we bow in awe before the permanence, might and splendor of our God… who is a consuming fire.”
Today, at Noon, the nation marks 400 years since the arrival at Point Comfort in Virginia of “20 and odd” captive Africans. It was their forced labor which helped establish the first permanent English colony in North America. From their landing at Point Comfort several were transported to historic Jamestown. To commemorate African ancestors and their descendants who have had a large share in building what became the United States, bells will ring across the nation. Seven churches on Aquidneck Island will participate… chiming will last four minutes, one minute for each one hundred years.
In today’s Gospel Jesus vigorously names the leaders as “hypocrites” for the shameful way they offered freedom selectively – generously affording it to their animals and inhumanely refusing it to the woman.
The leaders, Luke tells us, were put to shame; the rest rejoicing at the wonderful things Jesus was doing.
Lord, we want to be redeemed from shame and heartily rejoice at your commission… “to set the captives free.”
The Rev. Alan Neale
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts always be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our Strength and our Redeemer. Amen.
Does God ever give up?
I’ve spoken about that wager God has with God’s Self, that humans can give themselves back to God and grow into peaceful and loving relationships with each other and let go of pride of place and the whole notion of being first, having the best, but rather come to know ourselves and be grateful to be who we each and all are—beloved children of God. We have that wonderful line in Psalm 139: “Lo, I am fearfully and wonderfully made and that my soul knows right well.” Meditate on that for an hour this week and let God reveal more to you about yourself than you already know, and take in deeply how much God loves you.
I think God just keeps on trying to believe this about us creatures, but sometimes the prophets who speak for God are full of rage which they claim as God’s rage, and sometimes, like today in this passage from Isaiah, we seem to hear God as crestfallen, so disappointed in us as to be ready to withdraw. We have this lovely image of a vineyard, where everything has been done just so, from the clearing and planting, to building the fence and the winepress, and then the careful weeding and pruning and tending to it. But instead of yielding big, luscious grapes, full of juice and ripe with flavor, they are small and dry and possibly very sour, not good for eating and hardly suitable for making good wine.
This is where God seems to give up, taking away the protection, the caregivers and even the rain. Then comes the revelation, through Isaiah: the vineyard is you, O Israel, the people of Judah are God’s pleasant planting. There’s still that note of tenderness, that revelation of affection, but the further dimension that if God is not abandoning them entirely, God is at least withdrawing from them to wait for them to come to justice and to choose righteousness. Remember, in an image like this one, the rain that comes to soak the parched earth and cause shoots to sprout and spring up is God’s word delivered through the prophets. In this chapter of Isaiah we don’t hear the anger we heard in his preaching last week, but there is this deep sense of sadness and lamentation: what more could I have done? This is so like the wailing plainchant we use in the Way of the Cross on Good Friday when we travel from station to station singing God’s song: O my people, what have I done to you? Testify against me!”
It is one thing to hear God the Creator, the Father of Humankind being angry. So many of the prophets spoke from that tone, that mode, scolding, shaming, spitting out rage and threats of punishment and damnation. I grew up in a fairly moderate branch of the Lutheran Church, where we heard very little hellfire and brimstone from the pulpit, but as I entered adulthood, I think my major sense of God the Father was that of “the Celestial Sniper.” No matter what, God was going to get you for something. Oh, there was salvation in the end, but that would come after a good bit of purging and cleansing, a treatment that was bound to hurt.
Then one day I tried The Episcopal Church. It was a tiny congregation in a town of 3200 and a college of 500 called Carthage, so of course the patron was the great early theologian, St. Cyprian of Carthage. A big saint for a little church.
I was enjoying the liturgy with all its beauty, and then we got to the Prayer of Humble Access, in which we name that “God’s property is always to have mercy.” I was blown away; it knocked my socks off. There it was in the heart of the liturgy, the revelation that Anglicans believe God is first and foremost, merciful, full of mercy. That’s when I knew I was finding a new spiritual home. [I wish we could find a better place for it in the liturgy, since it is too penitential to use after we are absolved of our sins. It’s like stooping down and picking them all up and taking them home again.]
Back to Scripture: this week it is Jesus who is angry. “I came to bring fire to the earth.” Elsewhere he talks about bringing a sword. And he uses all these examples of division, as if he purposely wants to drive wedges between. That seems so inconsistent with his gospel of love, his warning to do no harm. If we remember that fires can have a positive dimension as well as a very fearful one when we think of a house burning or the inferno of a forest fire. I have a small prairie between my house and the lake where I live, and every year I hope to do a controlled burn at a certain time in April, because the weeds sprout first and then a couple of weeks later the prairie grasses and wildflowers push through the earth. The weeds love to spread and grow tall to grab all the space and the sun, and a controlled burn cuts off their first sprouting and give the other plants a chance. It’s not easy. The past two years we had 15” and 10” snowfalls in mid-April, which stayed on the ground a good while due to a cold snap, and then the winds were so high it was dangerous to do a burn. So the weeds had the upper hand.
I think this is what Jesus is talking about when he talks about division. It is about pruning, cultivating for maximum health and growth and strength, and there are some who make themselves available for the pruning and others who don’t. It is our choice, and I think Jesus is just naming reality here, not threatening us.
I’d like to reflect a bit on anger at this point, mainly because we are seeing so much of it in our society right now, and with such tremendous efforts to justify or even excuse it. Let’s remember that anger is always rooted in fear. That’s why Jesus says again and again, “Be not afraid.” We heard it again just last week, “Do not be afraid, little flock.” Depending on the degree of fear, we can go to great extremes with our anger. On a social level we are seeing the rise of a very exclusive nationalism in almost every “first world country,” those with some of the natural resources, but with almost all of the money. And these movements are all very angry, venomous, belittling some people because they do not belong for some reasons the group has decided on. And when we belittle, we grow in ourselves the attitude that it is all right to hate this people and treat them badly. We forget that collect in Morning Prayer saying that God has made all people of one blood.
It is interesting that Jesus uses an image of separation to speak against separation. He is not wanting to separate us from each other, but he is describing how we will divide ourselves that way if we do not try to separate ourselves from our baser attitudes and behaviors. What we need to be afraid of here is our own unbridled passions, particularly anger. And I don’t hold much stock in what some call “righteous indignation.” It’s indignation, all right, but it is rarely righteous. It is usually the compounding of a bunch of angers that have been building up in us and when we finally explode it is disproportionate to the event that teed us off, and then it is destructive. It’s like shooting a squirrel with an elephant gun.
The Rt. Rev. James Jelinek
PENTECOST 9 2019
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts always be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our Redeemer. Amen.
Isaiah the great prophet was speaking to the people of Israel in a situation very different from Hosea’s time. The difference is overwhelming. Last week we heard that intimate and tender moment of seeing God as a young parent, bending over, picking up her or his little child simply to kiss the child on the cheek. How delightful!
This week Isaiah blasts off with: “I’ve had enough of you and your burnt offerings. What good do they do me? I don’t need them; I don’t want them and especially since they make you feel so totally pious and self-righteous. Don’t you realize I know how you lie and cheat and steal and gossip and slander? You are not confessing to me that you have come to a realization of what you are doing and how much harm you are causing, how much you are dividing our society, how much you are using others. You are not repenting and trying to make amends and trying to reform yourselves. All you are doing with these elaborate sacrifices is trying to bribe me so that I won’t take notice or will let you off the hook.
When you stretch out your hands to beg for even more, I won’t listen to you. Your prayers are all about yourselves; you never pray for anyone else, and that kind of selfishness and self-centeredness is not becoming to you. It is more than a disappointment to me. When you add hypocrisy to your greed, it is ugly; it is vulgar; it is shameful and disgusting.
Again, God reminds them: You know what I want: Clean up your act, both outside and inside and I’ll recognize it when I see you doing good–seeking justice, rescuing the oppressed, defending the orphan, and pleading for the widow, (to which we might add) and the strangers among you. And since we today live in a time of cumulative damage to the environment, not thought of in Isaiah’s day, we need to add caring for the environment.
There we have it: the core of the Judeo-Christian ethic. Notice that it is not a code of rules. It is not a set of principles. It is the journey of falling in love with the world and those who surround us, risking empathy and compassion and learning how to serve with mercy. This is summed up in the refrain of that wonderful Ghanaian hymn, “Jesu, Jesu, fill us with your love, show us how to serve the neighbors we have from you.” [602, Hymnal 1982]
Through Isaiah God invites us: “Let us argue it out.” If you think there is a better way to undergird and surround human society with health rather than division, I want to hear it. Well, who among us want to argue with the omnipotent, omniscient and overwhelming presence we know God to be? I can think of a few, but perhaps they don’t see God as I do, this loving energy of creativity and blessing Who is omnipresent when we open the eyes of our minds and hearts to see.
The author of the Letter to the Hebrews is trying to describe this way of living as faith, and he does not imply wishful thinking or pollyannish optimism. He writes: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” As one of my mentors said in a sermon many years ago, this is a reversal of the old adage “seeing is believing.” It is, rather, “believing is seeing.”
The writer uses Israel’s ancestors and particularly Abraham as examples, but my favorite is Moses when he goes up the mountain and encounters God in the burning bush. God gives Moses his mission for, with, and on behalf of the enslaved people of Israel. “How will I know this is real,” Moses asks. In other words, “Give me a sign.” And God says, “You’ll know it is true when you again worship me on this mountain.” Way to go, God! What kind of a sign is that? I want the sign first, not after we’ve lived through all the dangers between now and then. We all want the sign first, don’t we, but as we just heard, “…faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
Jesus speaks from just that experience. Even though he has already been rejected by some, scorned by many, verbally attacked by still others, and even though some have already tried to kill him, he still speaks with “the conviction of things not seen.”
“Do not be afraid, little flock.” Jesus acknowledges their smallness in the world, their smallness even among the people of Israel, yet he encourages them to live liberally and generously. The Way of Jesus, or “the Jesus Movement,” as our Presiding Bishop calls it, is characterized by the liberality of love. We did not earn the love God gives us, so how can we expect others to earn love from us? That is much different from earning trust. It seems to me that our human nature is such that we can love without trusting, but we cannot trust without having love.
Jesus gives them an image of making for themselves “an unfailing treasure in heaven.” By “unfailing” I think he means two things: 1) that this treasure will never run out like money in the bank does when we live recklessly, in fact the more we practice loving the more we have to give away; and 2) that this treasure cannot be taken away, because it is the reality of an internal place where heaven and earth are joined, that place called faith and sometimes hope. The promise is that we are going to inherit the kingdom, so what else is there to worry about?
Jesus concludes with the statement, “where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” We so often hear that the other way around: where your heart is, there will your treasure be. That does describe much of our charitable giving, doesn’t it? Think of “heart” here as “love” or “loving” and “treasure” as “faith” or “faithing” (to use it as an active verb). Think of music, if that is our primary passion, our love. If our heart is in music we shall have the faith (the active means) to support music with our contributions to the symphony, classical radio, the choir, schools of music, and so on. We do the same thing with all kinds of important things: art, education, medical research, micro-loans to third world people, food banks, shelters, animal care and welfare, the environment—you know the list. You probably give to as many as or more of them than I do. That kind of giving comes from the heart and is manifest in a check or a money transfer.
Now what if our treasure is “faith” in itself, or “hope” in itself? Then we are inspired to invest our very selves: body, mind and soul in order to bring about the fruits of faith and hope for others around us or those who come after us. I certainly want our grandchildren’s grandchildren to hear the Gospel preached in this place and lived out in grace and mercy.
When “faith” is our treasure, we make the investment first so that our very hearts may grow into wholeness. This is why I give to the Church and some other bodies that exist to convert us from narrowness and selfishness and inspire us to gratitude and generosity.
I want to share something personal, not intending to boast, but to indicate how much I believe this, that whenever I talk about money I come from a place that is honest and real and true. St. Paul asks, “How do you account for the hope that is in you?” That is what I want to share. For many years I have given away well over a tenth of my income before taxes, a full tithe and more to the Church as a whole, and the rest to many other organizations that serve well in our larger society. I do this because I want God to stretch my heart into loving more. And I still go to church, even though I am retired and could anonymously get away without doing so. I go to church because I am as prone as anyone else to fall into judging people, becoming annoyed with others, finding shreds of prejudice within myself that I thought I had purged or given away, or holding a grudge for some slight. I go to church every week because when I look around I notice that some of my fellow parishioners have gotten on my last nerve and I have held onto something against someone else in such a way that I have again become enslaved to some unhealth or ill health. So I come to hear the words and the Word, and I hear grace in the word and absolution and blessing. And, most of all I receive that wonderful gift of Jesus Himself in bread and wine, Body and Blood. He gave that to us and named it as Himself; and He gave Himself for us that we may be free.
I am free again. You are free again.
+James L. Jelinek, Trinity, Newport
It was as if today, Epiphany Sunday, saw the most perfect confluence of themes and opportunities to talk and think about Worship, considered by some to be the greatest lack and the greatest need of the Christian and the Church.
The 8am service, the Adult Study (Worship #1) and the “All Age Gather Together” gave me glorious opportunities to preach and teach about worship. It was inspiring to hear and see Trinity Church filled with the shouts of “Wow” as we considered an expression for worship.
The basic text of the 8am sermon is below the audio; I regret we have no record of the “Worship & Wow” talk at 10am!
Sermon preached at Trinity Church, Newport RI
Sunday January 6th, 2019 – Epiphany
The Reverend Alan Neale
“The Greatest Lack”
Matthew 2:11 “We have come to worship him, to pay him homage.”
Never before have I been so conscious of the presence of worship throughout the Christmas story –
angelic choruses sing in heavenly places “Glory to God in the Highest”;
tired shepherds, inspired by the angels, trek to Bethlehem and there… they worship;
wise men (maybe three) journey across foreign lands all that they may kneel and worship and, of course,
we cannot forget the animals that evocatively kneel before the One who has made them all and with animal voice worship.
And all our Christmas carols enjoin and charge us to come and worship… Christ, the new-born King.
All of my resolutions for 2019 this is, I think, my primary resolve… to worship the Lord as often as possible, wherever possible, in as many ways as possible.
A.W.Tozer was a tremendously powerful Bible teacher and preacher in the 20th century; as his ministry grew so he becomes ever more conscious of the greatest lack of the church… worship. He wrote many books on worship including this one “Worship – The Reason We Were Created”.
On page 13 he writes, “I can safely say, on the authority of all that is revealed in the Word of God, that any man or woman on this earth who is bored and turned off by worship is not ready for heaven.”
Do I, do you, want to get ready for heaven… worship, worship, worship the Lord?
Matthew 2:11 “We have come to worship him, to pay him homage.”
As we move more deeply, more constantly, more intentionally into worship so a new alertness, sensitivity and awareness grows within our souls.
We learn what is significant in and around our lives; we accept the reality of the world in which we live and we deepen in our understanding of God’s nature and God’s relation to us.
Worship & Significance. Isaiah 60 and Psalm 72 tell of the arduous and long journey embarked upon by the wise men; some have reckoned it to be about 400 miles, maybe two to three weeks by camel or a month on foot. At some point, as their hearts were turned to worship, so they saw their studies, their books, their astrological plans… all as having an absolutely new significance and they responded.
Friends, as you and I surrender afresh to worship this year we will discover a new significance in so much that we have taken for granted, almost tended to overlook and ignore. Ideas and words, plans and friends will suddenly carry a new potential as we repeat these words, “We have come to worship Him, to pay Him homage.
Worship & Realism. You and I know that the pleasant story of the birth of Jesus is ravaged by the anger and jealously of Herod; so beside himself with fury and rage that he orders a massacre of babies. It’s all there in black and white though we would rather put it aside and be done with such horror. The worship of the magi does not blind them to the austere realities of this world and so they respond to the call not to return to Herod.
Friends, as you and I surrender to worship this year we will not therefore be shielded from harm and horror, pain and grief but our worship makes us strong so all this, and more is put into the context of our God who is King.
Worship & Divine Understanding. As the erudite and learned and magical friends set out on their journey I suspect they have little sense of the One to whom they journey to worship. I suspect their packing was done in a fairly inclusive and comprehensive manner; that potential gifts were not limited to gold and frankincense and myrrh. I hope that in the existential moment of connection with the baby they felt they could do no other than offer these bizarre gifts at a stable crib. Yet we know the significance of these gifts… gold for the King, frankincense for the Priest and myrrh for the Savior.
Friends, as you and I surrender to worship this year I promise you that we will gain a deeper understanding of the One we worship, an understanding that will make an impact on our deepest being. Our worship will lead to that sure knowledge that we are children of the King, we are prayed for by the Priest and we are rescued by the Savior.
Yesterday was the Memorial Service for Beth Graham, a loving and gracious light in this Trinity community. Rather an unusual passage was chosen for the second reading… a passage from Revelation, chapter 4 (1-11)… a passage that attempts to describe the unbelievable, constant, varied worship in heaven.
And then I saw it… it wasn’t unusual at all for the words of John reminded me that I have opportunity, even today, to get ready for heaven… let’s get ready even now. AMEN