October 8, 2006

Genesis 2:18-24 + Hebrews 2:9-11 + Mark 10:2-16

Today we have a Gospel with three scenes: Pharisees, Disciples, and Children. The Pharisees come along with one of their trick questions. Always a trap, never sincere, they look and wait for ways to discredit Jesus. He will not play along. He takes neither side in their either-or question but goes to the heart of the matter which they cannot perceive. So, he steps inside with those who will succeed him brings them to a new understanding that the Pharisees could never grasp. For you see, the Pharisees stayed in power and had control because they kept everyone split up and divided. Opposition and dispute were their tools.

Once inside with disciples, Jesus lays the foundation for the New Covenant and reveals the Father’s original plan. To help us get the point, the church provides a reading from Genesis today and reviews for us the Father’s plan from the beginning. “Partner” is the description we hear. The woman may have been taken from the man, but the man had no part in it, and he did not even witness it. They are partners says the author of Genesis describing what God intended. In this particular story of creation, the focus is on this relationship. In his teaching with the disciples, Jesus restores that balance and partnership by putting the woman in the case proposed by the Pharisees on the same footing as the man. They are equal, says Jesus.

Alone, separate, neither of them fulfills the creative design of the God. But together, living in unity and interdependence, they are a symbol of restored creation. Mark’s strong stand against divorce is a defense of the unity desired by God. While Jesus presents a vision of what marriage should be, he utters no condemnation of those who are divorced. In fact, in the Gospel of John Jesus comes to the defense of a woman about to be stoned who has often been married.

If this Gospel were really just about marriage, Jesus would have stayed outside with the Pharisees. What Mark leads us to as always is a revelation of God’s plan

being restored in Jesus his Son. Now, marriage as God planned it is not simply a relationship between two people. Rather, it is a covenant between two people and God.

The binding force is not the vows, nor is it the love between the two people. The binding force is God’s own presence in that Relationship. Christ did not say “What the marriage ceremony has joined together.” Neither did he say, “What Love has joined together.” What he said was: “What God has joined together”. This church is filled with sacraments: signs of the God’s Love, signs of God’s presence, signs of God’s healing, forgiving, Love. Married couples do not receive a sacrament. They become one.

The lesson of this Gospel is not only about marriage, however. It is about unity and oneness; about the reality of God’s presence where there is unity and oneness.

The challenge of this gospel is not just found in divorce.  It is found wherever we separate what God intended to be one. In our society, in our church, even in our families, issues of race, economics, gender, sexuality, justice, and life leave us divided, not speaking, alienated, hostile, and even violent.

Then comes the third scene: the children. What a powerful and disturbing image it is. Jesus surrounded by children, embracing them calling them, blessing them. It is an image that must haunt the Christian conscience as we see the horror of malnourished and disease-ridden children at home and abroad who in their innocence bear the suffering caused by the collapse of the human family, and the division of this world into haves and have-nots.

Jesus rebukes those who would separate him from the children. He rebukes those who ignore the lesson children teach us about how utterly dependent we are upon one another. To realize that, and to rejoice in it, is to honor indeed what God has joined together.

September 24, 2006 At Saint Mark Norman OK

Wisdom 2:12,17-20 + James 3:16-4:3 + Mark 9: 30-37

Two others will speak with you today later in the Liturgy. For that reason, I shall be brief with my reflection upon this Gospel. I beg you to extend courtesy to the others I shall introduce, and remain in this church until the dismissal in order to give them a welcome and attention Having five additional minutes outside this church

or getting out of the parking lot first cannot be worth the discourtesy of not giving them your time.

Jesus speaks to his disciples today about something they do not want to hear about and so they fall silent and uncomfortable. He speaks in this congregation today too when this Gospel is proclaimed. He speaks about something we would rather not talk about and find too uncomfortable. This discomfort reveals then and now reveals the distance between how we think and how Jesus thinks. Be your own judge of that for yourselves. If you find the message uncomfortable and unwelcome, it may very well be the measure of that distance.

When he sits down, he is teaching, and today he sits down to give a lesson in the ways of greatness. For Jesus, the great are those who engage and cooperate with the loving energy of God. That energy is never concerned with its own prestige, honor, or security. Rather it goes out to find and lift up basic humanity. So, the truly great will seek and provide for the needs of others, and their greatness lies in that focus, not in taking care of themselves. “How it is” with God who is first and greatest, should be “how it is” with all who seek to be first and great.

In a few minutes, “the children” are going to be put before you again, just as Jesus did once before. The weak, vulnerable, and helpless, the poor, the homeless, the hungry are standing at the door of this church. We just fail to see them because we are on the fast track and looking, working, and living for greatness in the eyes of this world.

When a lesson is taught to a closed or frozen mind, more often than not, that mindset ridicules the teacher, trivializes the matter, or transforms the teaching into some sort of idealistic unreal concept rather than the teaching transforming the mindset. There is no greatness in that thinking.  If we shall ever be great, it will be because we have looked outside of ourselves for humanity and seen the face of God. Those who come to us in need have the same feelings, fears, loves, and dreams that we have. Remembering that and realizing that any one of us is just a breath away from the conditions in which they find themselves cannot simply make us grateful that we have been spared such needy poverty. It must make us generous or our gratitude is little more than self-serving. Gratitude without Generosity is false, empty, and self-serving.

September 10, 2006 At Saint Mark Norman, OK

Isaiah 35:4-7 + James 2:1-5 + Mark 7: 31-37

Fear is a big thing these days. It sells stuff like guns, security systems, gates, locks, and fences. It has become the greatest political tool for getting votes. No longer are we concerned about justice or wages, education or poverty. Now it’s all about boarders, walls, homeland security, and it would seem that that best way to get elected is to scare us into thinking one candidate is more powerful, more militant, and more able to protect us from whatever it is that scares us the most. Social and political historians, by the way are quick to point out that using the tool of fear is a giant step toward fascism, and all kinds of other ideologies that do not become us.

The opening verses of today’s Liturgy of the Word have directed my prayer and thoughts powerfully and personally this weekend: “Say to those whose hearts are frightened, be strong, fear not. Here is your God. He comes to save you.”

The presence of this God who has called us to this holy place today is not seen in the removal of stress, problems, or suffering, but in the fact that in spite of all that,

there is still the possibility of great goodness, great accomplishments, great growth and satisfaction. On the eve of a date now recorded in history: 9/11; we can remember two things and must remember them both: an unexpected and horrible act of human cruelty, and a day of greater human courage, goodness and sacrifice. A handful of angry hate-filled men brought suffering upon a vast number of innocent people; and then an overwhelming number of brave and courageous men and women risked everything to bring comfort and help to others.

It is always a curious thing to notice that that in the miracle stories of the Gospel Christ himself downplays the significance of his healings. So often healing is followed by Christ telling the one who was cured not to say anything about it.

Even more emphatically as in today’s Gospel, Christ removes the man from the crowd, off by himself before he cures him. Christ could have used that power to rid the world of suffering and evil. He could have just said the word, and all evil would be gone. But that would not have been true to the plan of his Father, not according to the divine design for salvation. It was not to come through power, but through choice, through conversion of mind and heart. The real significance of miracle stories is not so much that they are sweeping displays of divine power,

but rather that they are personal acts of goodness, and moments of a human being using whatever resource was at hand to help another. That is what happens in this Gospel. In Jesus, we must see ourselves.

In verses just before today’s, a foreigner comes to Jesus for help with her daughter. At first, he refuses and insultingly denies her request until he thinks better of it. In Jesus, we must see ourselves. If at first we think someone does not deserve help, perhaps we ought to think again. A God who is partial to the poor ought to make us uneasy in our prosperity. It ought to make us want to get in touch with our interior poverty our deafness to the voice of God our blindness to God’s presence and the fear that holds us captive.

The only thing we really need to fear is the fact that we might fail to answer our call to growth in personal goodness. There is something every one of us can do

about loneliness, hunger, sadness, and suffering. Fear always puts up walls, locks closed doors and pulls the shades. It makes us blind, deaf, and silent. “BE OPENED” says Jesus. He puts his fingers in the man’s ears. I think he was silencing the frightening noise of the outside so that the man could hear from within the call of God and the whisper of divine love that calms fear. The prophet has spoken: BE STONG. HAVE NO FEAR. GOD IS HERE.

September 3, 2006 At Saint Mark Norman, OK

Deuteronomy 4:1-2,6-8 + James 1:17-18,21-27 + Mark 7:1-8,14-15,21-23

“Labor Day” this is called. It’s an odd idea these days when you stop to think about it. I went to the U.S. Department of Labor web site to find out more about how this all got started. It would appear that they are a little fuzzy about that which is no surprise given how “fuzzy” this nation has become about labor. It would seem that “unions” which we as church continue to support have been demonized nearly out of existence: if not, certainly out of power in a “right-to-work” state. I remember how we were assured that changing that law was going to flood Oklahoma with good paying jobs and investment. Since then, GM closed, and judging from the calls for help with rent and utilities, those companies standing at the state line ready to rush in have not done so. In the meantime, the real laborers in this country are threatened with deportation. Families of those who labor are subject to the nightmare of having the working member held for months in a detention cell until they are hauled over the border. We want laborers to roof our homes, lay bricks, mow grass, change sheets in hotels they could never afford to stay in, and wash dishes in our restaurants While above all, we must keep the cost of these thigs as low as possible. So, we have “Labor Day” mostly celebrated by employers rather than employees. It has become a day tolerated but hardly “celebrated” by far too many in a country where the minimum wage guarantees poverty for labor while politicians attack each other and dither about trivia instead of health insurance o transportation costs.

As Jesus once challenged external behavior that did not match internal values, we might apply the same question/and/challenge process to ourselves. The issue in the Gospel of Mark today is purity. This is not a virtue that has anything to do with dirty hands or sex.  It has to do with right thinking and right behavior. This is the conflict Jesus exposes with the Pharisees. Their shallow thinking is about trivia. Unable to look into the heart, they would rather inspect hands, but Jesus looks to the heart where ironically, both good and evil are first found. Evil comes from within. If our minds are full of envy, greed, anger, adultery, pride, or if we lie to ourselves, we shall not ever know truth, be free, or be pure. The intent of Jesus is to find the driver of immoral behavior. In truth, this evil is not easy to discover, especially if you are trying to find your own. The pursuit of it will never be successful for the shallow who are distracted by trivia.

Going inside takes courage. It’s dark in there, and there are things that make us uneasy and uncomfortable. It is more fun to be entertained. Knowing, naming, recognizing the hidden holdings of the mind and heart is often a blow to the scrubbed up and idealized self image we like to project. Mow the lawn, edge the sidewalk and rake the leaves in the yard, while inside the house there is abuse, neglect, and a life-time of unforgiven ugly memories.

There are five markers of true religion.

1) Closenes to God, or rather, God’s closeness to us.

We heard that in the first reading today.

2) The pursuit of Justice is the second.

It is the way God’s closeness is best experienced.

The Psalm of this day speaks to this truth.

3) Action which bares witness to faith is the third

because words without deeds are shallow and empty.

The Epistle of James speaks with simple eloquence of this truth.

4) Knowing the difference between what is marginal from what is essential

marks true religion. Piety is not to be mistaken for holiness.

5) Finally, what is within matters most.

Therefore, in true religion, the really holy avoid evil thoughts.

Those who look good or do good things

while their hearts are filled with darkness are far from the light of Christ.

What makes holiness is attitude, not behavior.

When the Word of God has taken root in us, everything becomes a religious practice. That Word comes through the teachings of our faith, the example of good people around us, and through the wonder and beauty of creation. However, it comes, when it does take hold of us, our inner eye is opened, our hearts are softened, and we turn to God like a flower turns to the sun. When we are brought to birth in this way, covenant law becomes sacred, religious practices are cherished and we are filled with a wonder that saves.

August 27, 2006 At Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK

Joshua 24:1-2, 15-17, 18+Ephesians 5:21-32+John 6:60-69

None of us get to choose how we are going to die, or when. We only get to choose how we are going to live. That kind of living becomes a constant process of deciding what we are going to do. From decisions between vanilla or chocolate, rye or whole wheat, which paint to chose or restaurant for an evening out, we move on to decisions about career, a partner with whom to grow old, the choice of friends, or a decision to allow an unborn child the freedom to live. Decisions enable us to fulfill the deepest capacity of our real lives.

There are also circumstances in every life that are beyond control leaving us with what seems like no choice at all. Some years ago, I learned a powerful lesson about this from man with AIDS. He said: “AIDS offers me a choice: the choice to become a hopeless victim and die or make my life right now what it always ought to have been.” Even when things seem hopeless, leaving us confused, and helpless, we can always choose our attitude. It’s always about making the right decisions for becoming fully who we are, fully human, and fully alive.

We hear of such choices in the scriptures for this day. First Joshua who succeeded Moses as leader of the Israelites challenges his brothers and sisters to choose who they would serve. The challenge comes at a crisis in their lives, and it is a turning point in the Old Testament. Then the author of Ephesians calls for a decision that evokes mutual caring, love, and fidelity in the model of Christ. The choice of a relationship wherein one would lay down their life for the other is a total abandonment of the perks and privileges of that culture’s patriarchal system for the sake of a mutuality never lived before. Finally, the disciples of Jesus who have come to believe and be convinced reveal their dilemma: “To whom shall we go?”

The choice to be made in light of what is revealed in this Gospel is the ultimate turning point of the New Testament. Those who leave will eat the bread of this earth, and they shall remain hungry and die. Those who believe and are convinced that the Son of God has spoken these words which are true will never hunger or die. But they must do more than believe. They must be convinced. Once convinced, they will have no other direction for their lives. Refusing the gift of living bread and all it signifies is walking away from Jesus. Putting anything ahead of being in this place when this bread and body are broken is walking away from Jesus.  It is not a matter of convenience or of feeling like it, it is a matter of being convinced: conviction! Leaving this altar for a congregation of praise, or fellowship, or “feel good church is walking away from the Bread of Life.

This is the defining moment in all the New Testament.

There are two steps to be understood in this Gospel by the response of the people.

There is more than faith at work here. Faith is the first step, but there is another to follow: that is understanding, or “being convinced” as Peter says it in the final verse today. When we reach that step and live with conviction, eternal life will already be flowing within us and shall have accomplished what was begun in our baptism. The Spirit will have filled us, possessed us, purified us, and enlightened us. We shall see the risen Christ in the Communion of Saints around us at this altar. We shall speak of and live in peace proclaiming forgiveness. We shall choose life, we shall choose life in the Bread of Life before all else,and like these disciples before us, we shall choose the Holy One of God.

August 15, 2006 At Saint Mark Church in Norman, O

Revelation 11:19a; 12:1-6a, 10 + 1 Corinthians 15:20-27 + Luke 1:39-56

It’s a story of pilgrims and of barrenness that we proclaim on this Holy Day. It’s a story of two women, one old and the other young. It’s also the story of everyone making life’s pilgrimage; both old and young. The fact is, we are all a barren people: some of us like Elizabeth who has lived on this earth a long time with little if anything to show for it and even less to leave behind; some of us like Mary young and full of youthful dreams all interrupted by a divine surprise that through her life into turmoil.

With lives in transition, they meet as spiritual pilgrims, lives open to God and willing to explore for the sake of goodness the divine plan for their lives. For one it has taken a long time, for the other, it is just at the beginning. Yet through the sons they bore, the Spirit begins a new age, a new creation in which we find the Kingdom of God. It is the age of the Spirit. They have both been filled with it. For one that Spirit brings life. For the other that Spirit bring Joy. It is the end of the ear of barrenness. Caught in the rapture of that Spirit, Elizabeth sings the first “Ave Maria.” Benedicta Tu In Mulieribus: Blessed are you among women. She sings with such Spirit that the child she carries leaps for joy.

The barrenness of human life is at an end. All human life is now filled with the divine presence. The barrenness of sin is now destroyed by this Spirit which will bear fruit in a divine visitor in human flesh that makes us all leap for joy.

We are a people whose lives are in transition. Today we meet in this place like Mary and Elizabeth: some old and some young. Hope and Joy, Life and Holiness are stirring with in us. This day we proclaim that our barrenness is at an end. This day we proclaim that those who are obedient and give flesh to the Word of God will be filled with the Spirit and one day be in the presence of God for death has no power over them.

August 13, 2006 At Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK

1 Kings 19:4-8 + Ephesians 4:30-5:2 + John 6:41-51

Remember, Jesus is speaking to the people he has just fed. Their hunger has been satisfied. They have had all that they need. In fact, there was a great abundance left over. But they murmur. They complain. They talk among themselves. Their talk is not grateful. They have missed the point and failed to understand not only what they have received, but who they are because of it. So, he teaches them in clear and certain language with images they cannot fail to grasp.

“They” in this gospel is really “us” in this church. We are a people who have been fed not only with more food than we need because we waste so much, but we have all that we need of everything else. Our garages are full, so full our several cars are often on the street. Many of attics are so full there is danger of being buried alive from a collapse. Our stores and malls are full, our storage units bulge, and evidence of it all will be the garage sale in the parking lot next Saturday! Yet there is murmuring.  We keep all his stuff because deep down inside we fear we may need it. We secretly suspect that God will not provide any more so be better keep what we have. we murmur when it isn’t good enough, breaks down, gets old, and needs to be replaced. We run the constant risk of getting stuck here in all this stuff and failing to move beyond it, move deeper into what it means, and instead of it bring us life and closer to the one who provides, it destroys and shortens our lives as we fight over it, work ourselves to death to get more of it, and never really hear what God has to say.

The Word of God speaks today to people who have been fed more than enough who are being drawn to God and invited into the same relationship with God that Jesus himself enjoys. If that is not you and me, then this Gospel is little more than a piece of pulp fiction. The issue is, who are we and what has happened to us with all this stuff we enjoy?

As Jesus looks at those he fed and cared for so abundantly, he looks at us and speaks these words to reveal the presence of God, not in heaven, but a God who has come down. What he reveals to us is first of all that we are called to something greater than all this – something beyond all the stuff we have been blessed with in this life. This stuff is “manna” — but there is something greater than “manna”. This stuff cannot give us life. In fact, if it’s all we want, we shall die in it.

This Gospel of John is not being proclaimed to unbelievers, to people not blessed or hungry but to people who have already been drawn to Jesus. This Gospel of John awakens us to what has already happened, to what has already been given to us. The fact that we are drawn to Jesus bears witness to the truth that we have already begun to know the Father who sent him. That is why Jesus attracts us, because we see the Father in him, hear the love of God in his words, and experience the love and presence, forgiveness and peace of God in his words and deeds. If we dare to move deeper into this mystery or this wonder, if we dare to “eat” and “drink” this presence dare to take it into ourselves and make it our identity as food becomes our flesh and blood by eating it, that divine life, the divine presence, that eternal life is ours.

There will be nothing to murmur about when that happens. There will be no more empty seats in this church, and the line at Communion will stretch from here to the river. No one will have stayed home at this hour. Their absence says more about us than about them. When we dare to move into this mystery and wonder,

there will be no more bitterness, fury, anger, shouting, or reviling. All malice will be gone. We will be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving one another as God has forgiven us in Christ. We will be imitators of God, as God’s children living in love.

July 30, 2006 At Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK

2 Kings 4:42-44 + Ephesians 4:1-6 +John 6: 1-15

Now never mind for the moment that we have switched from Mark to John for Gospel reading, just follow the flow of the story. Jesus has crossed to the other side. The crowd has run after him. He has gone up the mountain to teach them. The place where things happen in the Gospel is always important if the writer takes the trouble to provide that information. The mountain is the place where the human and the divine meet. Jesus is seated in the posture of a rabbi/teacher, and he teaches them about how the divine and the human work together.

The lesson concerns two ways of seeing things, and Peter provides the example. He sees five loaves and two fish. He sees too little for so many. Jesus sees things with the eyes of the Spirit: he looks up! Then he tests the disciples; not to see if they pass or fail, but simply to measure how far they have come in the Spirit. He wants to know if they can perceive the revelation about to be given. Philip and Andrew are stuck the material present. When they hear “bread”, they think of flour and water. When they see people, they want to count them; and they know one thing that never changes: scarcity. Too many people, too little food, not enough money, stuck in the material, they think it is impossible. They do not understand how to bring the spiritual to the material.

They know scarcity. Jesus knows abundance. In John’s Gospel that contrast started at a wedding in Cana. This is the Spiritual law the disciples must learn. Jesus has them sit down on the grass……… Are you thinking of that psalm verse? “He makes me lie down in green pastures?”  You should be. For Jesus, these people are not hungry for bread. These people have no soul, and Jesus is going to restore it. When the divine and human meet, this is what happens. The Spirit of God enters into the human spirit, as food into the body, filling that spirit to its capacity (as much as they wanted). So much so that there are twelve baskets left over. Get the number: twelve = complete fullness. It is not bread and fish that fill these people. They don’t say: “Wasn’t that good. I believe I’ll have seconds.” They begin to recognize a prophet in their midst because their spirits are stirred by the divine presence, but not perfectly so because they want to make him a king. While awakened to something wonderful, they are still stuck in the material. So, he withdrew. In typical John dramatic style, the curtain comes down. End of Act One.

Then just as suddenly, up goes the curtain for Act Two.

The boat again. It’s dark. The wind is blowing; the sea is rolling. They were several miles from shore, and they see Jesus walking toward them on the water.

He speaks to them the divine name, revealing the mystery of his identity. He says the name that Moses heard in a burning bush: “I AM.”

He comes to people in darkness and fear. He walks on the chaos that frightens others. And they do the only smart thing when they know who it is. They invite him in. John tells us that they wanted to receive Jesus into the boat with them.

On another summer Sunday, we pause this day because we are hungry. We come to this table not for bread or wine, since by any judgment there is not enough to satisfy physical hunger. We gather on this holy mountain to meet the divine and remember how the divine and the human work together. We come to feed our souls on the Word made flesh. Some of us come already struggling with the darkness, wind, and storms of life. Some of us will meet them yet later this week. But there is one who walks above all the chaos this world can rage, one whose name we know, and the message this day is that he walks toward us and toward any who will row out away from the safety of the material and physical world. To those who ask, he enters their boat, rides along to the other side and sees us safely home. In Genesis, God gathered the waters that were everywhere into one place and made dry land appear. This is the continual action of our present God. The divine gives people a place to stand so that the terrors symbolized by the raging sea do not overwhelm them. When he is there, as the last verse said: “Suddenly they were on the shore.”

July 23, 2006 At Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK

Jeremiah 23: 1-6 +Ephesians 2:13-18 +Mark 6:30-34

Such a short Gospel passage, but so much going on! There’s that boat again taking them to the others side. We have had boat trips with Mark’s Gospel before, always crossing over the waters. When you hear those stories, think of the church: think of companionship, think of how to get from this side to the other side, and when you do, you are embraced by the richness of Mark’s images and message. Then there is that deserted place he takes them to. There is nothing there. Lest they think that all they had done and taught was about them, he took them off to remind them that God was the source of their gifts, God was the one who really sent them, and it was God’s mission they were to be about. Then there is that crowd who never go away, from whose needs there is no hiding place. Finally, the best lesson of all. When there was every reason for frustration and impatience, Pity was what they received from Jesus, and instead of saying: “Can’t you see I want to be alone?” He began to teach them many things.

The first challenge we have from this Gospel is to place ourselves in this story. If, as I said last week, he sent out the “twelve”, which means everyone is sent, then there are no spectators. So, we might wonder a bit this morning about what report we could give on what we have done and taught. But maybe the story is not just about these apostles or apostolic people. Perhaps it is about people who will seek Jesus no matter what the inconvenience. Getting to the other side of that lake is no easy walk. Those people had to go to that desert to find him. Next week we shall hear more of what they received from him. There is then a place in this story for those who have needs. Mark tells us what we shall find if we are willing to go after it. Finally, there is Jesus. What he does, any of us can do. Nothing extra ordinary nor particularly divine. He has pity. He sets aside his own plans and agenda to be attentive to others. I like to think it’s about “interruptions.” Long ago I discovered that the interruptions of my day are most often the best moments of my day. He thought he would have a great time in that deserted place listing to the apostles. Instead, he had a better time teaching that crowd who sought him at considerable inconvenience about his Father. So much for his plans! Because he could surrender them without complaint or resentment, more wonderful things happened.

So, on a hot July weekend after a blistering week of terrible heat, we gather here in a somewhat deserted place. We are reminded as we do so that we shall eventually have to report on what we have done and what we have taught. We are reminded that making the journey here with our needs in spite of the inconveniences and much more comfortable options is where we ought to be with the one who receives us with patience and pity, understanding and concern. We are reminded too that our agenda, our plans, our expectations might well be interrupted by the needs of others, and that no matter where we try to hide from or deny them, the needs of others will not go away. The only response to those needs fitting for those who would be in this boat with Jesus is patience, pity, and a response that is truly divine. We have to find our place in this story.

July 16, 2006 At Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK

Amos 7:12-15+Ephesians 1:3-14+Mark 6:7-13

While Pentecost is certainly the day the beginning of the church coming to life by the power of the Spirit, this Gospel story is the beginning of the beginning. This sending or commissioning of the apostles is the most direct and clearly expressed expectation Jesus has for his apostolic people. While every age has probably heard different pieces of this instruction address its own specific issues, there are two that stand out for us who are, by the power of this Gospel instructed on what we are to do, and how. Because you cannot just sit here and listen to this Gospel and think it was something for the past about twelve guys Jesus called from their work one day and then left behind. The Word of God is alive, and it speaks to us, not to them never more so than when it is proclaimed in the midst of this assembly. The whole notion of “twelve” being sent carries with it a sense of totality. Twelve” in the culture that preserved this Gospel means everyone because there were twelve tribes that included all of God’s people. So, by sending the twelve, no one is excused, no one is left out.

The first challenge of this instruction lies in the point that he sent them out two by two. They did not go alone. There are no “loners” in the church, just as we believe that there are no “lone” churches. By sending them in pairs, the risk of personalizing or misinterpreting the message is minimized. One keeps the other faithful and true to the message. This is at the heart of and an essential piece of our identity. It is why, from every generation, the interpretation of the messages is not a private, personal matter. We do it together, as a church in communion. Even more so, this instruction speaks a word of challenge and correction to this age of individualism. It is why we are not a stand-alone church here on Tecumseh Road. We belong to something bigger. When we do anything, we must be accountable for what affect it has on others. “Going it alone.” is not the way of disciples of Jesus. We are not in “private practice”. We belong together, and when we are not together in unity, we are not a church, at least not the church that springs from the instruction of Jesus. This is not just a matter of life. This challenge address national foreign policy as well as neighborhood life.

The second challenge is just as important as the first. It concerns the matter of what to take. It is a subtle instruction, and the idea runs counter to much of our way of life. Not getting the point causes us a lot of spiritual distress. “Take nothing.” he says. Jesus was definitely not a Boy Scout. “Be prepared.” says their motto. Not so with Jesus and his mission. Our plans too often get in the way. We get our ideas about how things ought to be for the coming of the kingdom, and then when God’s plan crosses ours, it all gets fouled up. The Kingdom of God is breaking in all around us, and sometimes we get so caught up in our plans, in our dreams, in our expectations about how it’s supposed to be, we fail to see it, or worse yet, we slow down and delay the plan of God.

The instruction of Jesus is simple: “Go.” Just “Go.” he says. Don’t worry about how it’s going work out. God will provide for you. You cannot plan for the reign of God. Whatever you think the reign of God is going to be like will be off the mark. Remember how the apostles were always getting it wrong about Jesus and the Messiah role? It’s no different for us. The baggage we pack will hold us back. We must stop being anxious about what you’re supposed to do or what you are supposed to say. Just go. Live the Gospel proclaimed to us. Be a people of Joy of Peace of Forgiveness. God does not need our plan. We are sent to bring wholeness where there is brokenness. We are sent to drive out evil with the power of goodness and kindness. This is not hard. We are not without help. We are not alone. We have one another, sent two by two at least, and we have the Holy Spirit.