March 7, 2004

Genesis 15:5-12,17,18 + Philippians 3:17-4:1 + Luke 9:28-36

Here we are in early Lent, with purple in the church, no flowers or plants, the ashes newly washed from our heads, and ideas of Lenten discipline in the air. For some of us, the traditional practice of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving shape the season. Some of us have just today remembered that it’s Lent and we should “do something,” which probably means “giving something up.” For some, all of life feels like Lent, like a wandering in the desert, like a somber, sober facing into death. Some have given Lent little thought at all. To us all comes the Word of God today. The story of Abraham, a story of Jesus transfigured, and Paul grounding us all in Baptism. If Lent is the only time of year when prayer, sacrifice, and fasting occur, it becomes a long season, or no season at all. It is either a serious spiritual experience for us, or it is no experience at all. It either restores and reforms our lives with practices upon which we can build, or it shames us with the superficiality and empty promises that overshadow our whole lives.

The prayer, the fasting, and the sacrificial giving are all really one movement in faith, not separate and distinct from one another. Fasting without prayer is a diet.

Prayer without sacrifice is lip service. Tithing without faith is taxes. These things weave together for people of faith, and this season is a time to restore some balance where one or the other may have gown slack.

It is perhaps a good time, to look with a critical eye at not only our own lives, but at the life we share as a parish community. We have just completed the second month of this New Year. With the third year of the twenty-first century behind us, it is possible to provide an account of our life together, and in the next ten days a printed report will be mailed to every home. It will be the second year for such an annual report here at St. Mark. Today I want to give you some highlights of that report in person. If it were possible, I would personally come to your home and speak with you face to face. This is the best I can do.

The twelve months of 2003 were not years of numerical growth at St Mark. While 153 families registered into the parish, nearly the same number moved away or were removed from the parish list because of inactivity. We counted 1,103 household at this time last year, and presently include 1,109. In terms of actual Catholic people, there are 3,395 of us, and the average age is still 31. The average Sunday attendance in the past year was 1,270, down from 1400 the previous year. These are curious numbers, which suggest that only one out of three of us attends Mass every week, or that most of us attend Mass only once or twice a month. It is a troubling fact; and it sweeps the nation as I hear that the American Bishops have recognized that faithful Sunday Mass attendance is now recognized as a significant problem.

In 2003 we Baptized 41 children: nine more than the previous year. Twenty-two couples were married here: fifteen the year before. Other such statistics were be included in the report. The sacramental life of the parish is full of the spirit of faith.

I am not going to go into detailed statistics at this moment because it will distort the facts and confuse you. You will receive those shortly. What you will see is that in the past twelve months the building fund income is down because many have begun to retire the pledges. In the same time period, the Sunday collections are up. Some of that suggests that those who have completed pledges to the building fund have continued their giving at the same level by adding their previous pledged amount to their weekly offering. What you will see in number is that our weekly offering income has increased; in fact, by a little more than $200,000 over the twelve months of 2003. Expenses are down for two reasons: no capital improvements nor furnishing purchases this past year since our move into the new building is now complete. There is also one less full time staff member.

The debt continues to be the biggest burden and limitation on our ability for ministry here to grow in proportion to the population. A parish this size with one priest and two full time employees is not likely to be found in this part of the world. There may be an appearance of order and progress, but I want to tell you clearly that it is only an appearance. Things are not happening that ought to be happening, and everything is slowing down administratively. With no director of Religious Education, we are coasting, and the only way to coast is downhill. It is also time in the life of this parish to put worship first, and the musical part of that worship ought to be high priority. Even though a host of volunteers do their very best, God is not getting the best this parish can do. Too many of you stand with arms folded while others raise their voices in song and praise. We are not in the Hotel anymore, yet much is the same. God is getting what is the left, the spare time, and not the finest and best we can do. The facts indicate that we have paid down $145,224 on the principal. In proportion to the total debt in excess of $4 Million, this is a very small amount. We paid $363,541 interest on that debt this year – by my values as the leader here, we nearly spent half a million dollars to buy money. This is going to go on for a long time. For the next eight years we are locked into a payment plan that will see little progress if interest rates remain below 7.5%. Almost half of our total income goes to the debt.

In terms of our progress, there is good news here; but with it comes great challenge. Those 153 new families are replacing nearly the same number of families who have moved on in their lives to other places. Yet, those of you who have recently come need to know that others made sacrifice and commitments to provide for you, and your immediate willingness to take their place and follow their generous lead is imperative.

The challenge each of us faces day in and day out is to put God first in our lives in a real and concrete way. It cannot be promises for another day. It must be now. Last week the Word of God was proclaimed in this church, and you heard these words: “Moses spoke to the people saying: “The priest shall receive the basket from you and shall set it in front of the altar of God.” Then the sacred writer in the name of all the people went on to list some of the wonderful things God had done for those people, concluding with these words: “Therefore, I have now brought you the first fruits of the products of the soil which you, O Lord, have given me.”

God receives the first fruits from people who know what God has done for them– not the last or the left over. This order of things is given to us with all the authority of God’s Word spoken by the prophet. In reality, it means that when you buy a car, a house, a TV, a stereo, clothing, take a vacation, or go out to dinner, you do that with what is left after you have given to God, not the other way around. Several months ago in talking about the parish expenses someone said to me: “Father, after making the payment on the Lexus and the SUV, the boat, the lake house, two tuitions, and the house payment, there’s not much left for the church.” I couldn’t get home fast enough that night, and I barely slept feeling like a failure. This thinking and this behavior gives no evidence of faith’s response to the Word of God which I have given my life to proclaim.

We are about prayer here: prayer and worship. It is through prayer that the vision of today’s Gospel first took place. This means that, for the Lukan community and for those who still dare, prayer becomes the way in which the People of God can gain clarity, and see in faith salvation unfolding in their own time. There has been a vision here at ST Mark: a vision of the Kingdom of God lived and shared in a community that gathers every week to celebrate again, because once or twice a month is never enough, for the promise of Easter.

Our Gospel today speaks to the hopes and dreams of everyone who seeks to discover what the true outcome of human history may be. This vision declares that the fate of Jesus, and the church that forms around him, has a happy conclusion. Not only is the death of Jesus seen as his exodus into the life of God, but now it is not just Moses who enters into the cloud of God’s presence, everyone on that hill was surrounded by the cloud. Now all of us who stand before the Holy One and dare to make Him first in our lives, in our service, and in our dreams and visions will know a future of happiness and peace.

February 29, 2004

Deuteronomy 26 :4-10 + Romans 10 :8-13 + Luke 4 :1-13

Earlier this month, two weeks ago, to be exact, we heard Luke interpret for us the words of Jesus we have come to call “Beatitudes.” We saw in Luke’s gospel a reflection of the difference between the earlier community of Matthew and the community of Luke which many scholars believe had grown to include people of prestige, power, and wealth. In Luke’s gospel it is really the “woes” that were the heart of his message, not the Blessings. No spiritualizing or internalization with Luke! What we get from Luke is a kind of “guidance system” by which we can navigate our way through the attitudes, behaviors, and distorted values of a very “less than perfect” world. Being good people in the absence of a good society is the challenge.

Today it would be easy to think that we have here a story about Jesus in the desert, but I don’t think so. I would propose that we explore this story with what we know about Luke. This is not about the temptations of Jesus. It is a story about the temptations that trouble the powerful, the secure, and the comfortable. This story is about our temptations, and we avoid the challenge Luke gives us if we think it’s all about Jesus.

Heard in this light, the devil taunts and tempts any who are children of God, but especially those who have food, and power, and security. “If you are the Son of God,” the devil says: “Take care of yourself.”  suggesting that no one else will. “If you are the Son of God,” the devil says: “Look at all the stuff you can have! There’s your god — the god of your own making, the god of your greed.” “Worship these things. They will give you pleasure.” “If you are the Son of God,” he continues to taunt from the heights of the Temple. “You can jump.” “You know God will take care of you.” (This last one is really a temptation of God, or at least of our concepts of God – so that if God doesn’t work the way we want, we’ll quit the relationship.)

And so it goes, the story of our temptation. We have the power to turn stones into bread. Or we have the power to guns into food and medicine. It’s the same thing. We have the power to feed the hungry, but we make bombers. But the issue Jesus confronts is one of power, not of hunger. It is the question of how and why and when power is to be used. The Word of God nourishes the Jesus of Luke’s Gospel, not bread, and that’s the food that must nourish us with the truth and give us the strength to rise above power’s seduction.

And so it goes, the story of our temptation. We spend more time shopping in the mall than we do on our knees in a church. The great cathedrals of consumerism replace the great cathedrals of worship and prayer. Television commercials replaces religious education, so our children dream of the latest toy or fashion rather than dream of a just and peaceful world.

And so it goes, the story of our temptation. The last temptation turns the tempted into the tempter. For now, it is God who is tempted by this one who is called: “Son of God.” A temptation to live on the wild side, to trust or fool oneself into false security.

In the end, it is all about identity; the identity of one who is God’s own child.

It is that identity the devil calls into question with his taunts:

“If you are God’s Son……

“If you are God’s Son……

“It you are God’s Son……

 Well, we are God’s Son in the Body of Christ, and those who would learn from Him in the Gospel of Luke will not seek the easy way or the short cut to glory.

They will not turn stones into bread when their neighbor hungers for peace or acceptance or a companion. It is not bread that is needed. Those would learn from Him will never be confused about their true home and where they belong. Nor will they ever think that power and privilege will secure them a place in that home rather than sacrifice and love.

February 25 2004

Joel 2:12-18 + 2 Corinthians 5:20-6:2 + Matthew 6 :1-6,16-18

Ancient Catechumens, in the rites that moved them to grace and baptism performed a kind of “dance” that acted out in experience what was happening in their hearts. Led to the font of “living” water, they faced the darkness of the western sky and were asked to reject Satan and his empty promises. Then they turned and faced the east, where the sun would soon rise. In this direction they professed their belief in God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, the Lord and Giver of Life. The turn from west to east, from darkness to light, from Satan to God was all captured in that simple gesture.

We have long ago given up many of those power-filled gestures. We think of ourselves as far too sophisticated to do that sort of thing. Baptism has been speeded up, privatized, and sanitized.  “Living water” has been reduced to a splash that I have seen in some places come from a mason jar off a shelf. Avoiding the public nature of the commitment, Baptism was slipped into “free time” on an afternoon when no one, but family could possibly hear the profound commitment being made.

The Baptistery took on the appearance of a private chapel with a basin to catch the half cup or less of water that spilled from a baby’s head. Gone was the tomb, the grave that provided the visual connection with dying and rising. With some relief in our lifetime, we welcome a change in practice that now leads us deeper into the mystery.

We are people of the grave – we have come up out of the tomb, and today we shall show our origins. We are dead people raised up to life. The ashes of our death will be visible for all to see. Perhaps we miss half the point if we think these ashes are only a sign of our future. They are also a sign of our past. We were dead and we have been raised to life.

In this season, we are a people doing the dance of those early catechumens. We are turning: from west and darkness to the east and coming light. We are turning from old ways to new ways, from ways of living that lead to death toward ways of living that lead to life.

The most ancient traditions of our faith are rooted in this season and the three Holy Days to which it leads. Proven again and again through the centuries, the power of three things is undisputed and universally practiced by anyone who stands before God. Buddhists, Islam, Judaism all know the power of these things. In our Christian faith, we too embrace these ancient customs with the full knowledge at those who practice them cannot possibly fail to turn toward God. Fasting

Prayer Almsgiving ——- lead us onto the path of change. They lift us from the grave and turn us from the west to the east. These are, in some ways, the steps of the dance. When we learn them and use them together, we shall be transformed, and this whole world will be filled with Light and the Presence of Christ. When Fasting and Prayer and Almsgiving become the steps of Life’s great dance, we shall spring up from the grave and brush aside the dust of death refreshed in living water, we shall be stand in the light, and nothing will ever again be the same.

February 22, 2004

1 Samuel 26:2,7-9,12,13,22-23 +1 Corinthians 15:45-49 + Luke 6:27-38

One of the basic assumptions in the economy of the Greek and Roman world was the notion of charis. There whole world turned on this notion that charis was kept in constant motion. They believed that the divine would “grace”, that is to says, provide benefits for humans, and then the humans would in turn respond, or make eucharistia by acknowledging such favors through gifts to the temple worship. Then, these gifts would mean good construction jobs. Better temples would enhance the “glory” of the divine which would in turn effect further gifts from the divine to the human.

It was a cycle, a constant round of gift giving and growth. There was something out there circulating all the time. No one held on or kept this “charis” as their own

because to do so would stop further gifts from the divine.

All of us from time to time have been invited into “Chain Letters” for various gifts — to receive requires that you pass it on, and the only way the system works is for the “letter” to stay in motion. If anyone stops or breaks the chain, it’s over.

Luke builds his image of grace and his most fundamental moral message on this ancient idea. It is the end of the old “tit for tat” idea. It is the beginning of a new age of grace. It is not a “spiritual” plan, but a way of living in the concrete reality of the present What Luke puts before us in this conclusion to the sermon Jesus began last week is the most radical and clearest expression of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus.

It would have been nice and a lot easier if Jesus had just left it at that. “Love your enemies.” It is a good slogan. It looks nice framed on the wall. Luke’s Gospel however is not a catalogue of slogans; it is a way of life – a way of being – a pattern for relationships. This faith we share is not a list of beliefs about God plus behavior. We are Christians not because of what we believe, but because we have been called to be disciples of Jesus. to become a disciple is not a matter of new or changed self-understanding but rather to become part of a different community with a different set of practices.

So, this Gospel today is just as tough as the one we proclaimed last week. There are no loopholes to avoid this challenge. There is no way to make this teaching a “theory” or an “ideal.” There is no way to lift this challenge out of reality and turn it into a abstract void that would allow us to reason: “Well, I’ll love my enemies but I won’t like them!” That reasoning is evasive. It is a faceless alibi – an excuse for avoiding what is asked of us. To keep us from running in that direction, Jesus closes the door on that thinking with the details of his plan for enemy love.

“Do good to those who hate you.” “Bless them.”  “Pray for them.” Yet something in us reasons that Jesus failed to see what was to come. That evil regimes and terrorist attacks that we have come to know could never have been in his mind. We think he never could have imagined the horrors and evils we have seen. But to think that way is to reveal that we have never stood under the cross and never heard Jesus Christ speak through blood-stained lips: ”Father, forgive them.” We need to go there to get it right. We need to hear those words from that place. Then, the opening words of today’s Gospel will make sense to us:

“To you who hear I  say, Love……”

February 15, 2004

Jeremiah 175-8 + 1 Corinthians 15:12,16-22 + Luke 6:17,20-26

The earliest followers of Jesus were surely poor, powerless, marginal and socially irregular. They were like him, and had the most interest in what he had to say. By the time Luke’s gospel is written, there are others. Most scholars hold the opinion

that this Gospel was written for a very different kind of people: respectable people of influence and means. They were an advantaged group conscious of the power and their prestige.

There is a decided difference between Matthew’s “Sermon on the Mount” and these “Beatitudes” of Luke. Matthew spiritualizes his. “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” he says. There is nothing spiritualized, internalized or removed for Luke. He simply says: “Blessed are the poor.” No words of warning or woe in Matthew.

No lack of them in Luke. The future of those who seem to have no future is assured. The rest would be advised to discern that this is the way it works with God. Luke does not give suggestions about how to be happy.

Woes are directed toward the privileged, the well-fed, the rich, the carefree precisely because their condition, and status is used to exclude others, keeping them silent, invisible, powerless and marginal. The Jesus of Luke knows that among people of status, power becomes power to abuse. This is tough news for us, and there is no way to stand here and coat it with sugar. People who seem to have everything going for them live in great peril. Security blinds people to the need of surrender and letting go to make room for the ever-surprising presence and  action of God. We are the rich and we are the powerful. Even though many are burdened with debt, it happens because we have credit, and credit allows us to buy more and more. There are some who do not even have the power of plastic. The culture of the consumer and the power of the borrower continues to neglect the really “dirt poor” among us, keeps them silent and invisible. The power of the consumer society criminalizes the hungry and the minority who look for a share in the “good life.”

The Jesus of Luke’s Gospel assures those who seem to have no future that they do in fact have one that is better; while that same Jesus assures those who think they have it made that a surprise is on the way. Guilty feelings in the face of this Gospel is not what is called for. Feeling the plight of the homeless as a moral dilemma is not enough either. The failure arises from the institutions on which our common life and its quality depends. Election year promises of new jobs from politicians offer nothing when one considers that the majority of those jobs are part-time, unskilled, low paying ones in the service sector that will not put food on a table under a roof. In a nation that watches that rich get richer and the poor grow in more desperate numbers, this Gospel is serious business. It confronts us with the difficulty of being a good person in the absence of a good society. I would propose that the Beatitudes offer those who would follow Jesus with Luke’s Gospel a kind of “guidance system” to correct the distortions of attitude, behavior and values of contemporary culture whether it is the affluent culture of Luke’s time or our own.  Luke and the Jesus he proclaims reverses the assumption that blessedness lies in riches, pleasure, comfort and happiness, and asserts that the fulfillment of every need and desire is found in God and in God’s ways.

February 8, 2004

Isaiah 6:1-8 + 1 Corinthians 15:1-11 + Luke 5:1-11

There is no doubt after hearing the reading from Isaiah before this Gospelthat the Church will assemble today to reflect upon its call. Paul reinforces the same theme as he summarizes his teaching and his own calling. Peter is the focus, his call, his response, and his mission. What we must remember is that Luke’s use of Peter is not historical or personal; but rather theological and collective. What Luke means when he says something of “Peter” he is saying of the Church. Consequently, there is sitting back and listening to this Gospel as though it was about someone else at some other time. It’s about us: our call, our response, and our mission.

What we come to understand from the Word we share today is what kind of people are called by God to complete the work of Jesus and in the sharing of tradition reveal the saving plan of God. We do not read of saints or scholars today. It is a man of unclean lips, one who has persecuted the church, and a sinful fisherman who are called.

What we also come to understand from the Word we share today is that the call itself comes in the normal circumstances of everyday life. Isaiah was in the Temple, not an unusual place to find a pious Israelite. Paul was running around in the fast lane as he always did. Peter was fishing. These people are inspired in ordinary places doing ordinary things. What is out of the ordinary is what they experience in those ordinary events, and Luke proposes that we might pay attention.

We have put ourselves in this church today because we have been called, because we have received a tradition to share and because the work of Jesus Christ is not yet complete. The world in which we live is not the Kingdom of God. It is barely a human place to live some of the time, and at best, we see the Kingdom of God dimly as though through a veil, but we do see it and know its coming none the less.

What we have come to understand through our tradition and in this place is that the further in-breaking of that Kingdom and its eventual triumph will depend upon our response to the call that has brought us here. For most of us, it is not a very dramatic call. It may simply be the call to be a parent. To shape the mind and the heart of child in the ways of Jesus Christ. It may be simply to be a teacher, a catechists, a priest, deacon, or sister, who is willing and ready to extend their everyday lives, like Peter. Called to do something illogical, like throwing the nets out once more after a long night of fishing without a catch. They were tired, getting the nets wet once again meant more heavy work; but they did it anyway, and what they discovered was more than net full of fish. The risk is that we might overlook the action of God, that we may think that someone else may do what we have been called to do, or that somehow the Kingdom is just going to happen by a miracle.

Luke would have us understand that fish got in that net because Peter and his companions put out the net again when Jesus asked them. The people of Corinth still preach the timeless Gospel to us today because Paul preached it to them. Israel drew near to the Lord because Isaiah was heard that voice in the Temple. All of them rose up from their sinfulness because they did not fail to see and to hear the action and word of God in their midst.

Like Isaiah, today we are in the Temple. Like Paul, many are in the fast lane, in the middle of city life, rushing here and there to make a name for themselves. Like Peter, some of us have been in the boat a long time, and we get tired. Yet we have inherited a tradition that must be handed on if we are to live. It is a tradition filled with promise and hope. It is a tradition of Justice and of Peace. It is a tradition of Forgiveness, tolerance, kindness and mercy.

If you listen very carefully, you will still hear the question: “Who will I send?” If you look very carefully, you will perceive who is in this boat with us, and what he asks of us. “And Jesus said to them: “Do not be afraid……..and they left everything and followed him.”

January 25, 2004

Nehemiah 8:2-4,5-6,8-10 + 1 Corinthians 12:12-30 Luke 1:1-4,14-21

Two weeks ago, we were given an intimate look into the experience of Jesus at his Baptism. We heard what he came to understand about himself, and Luke revealed to us in those verses the source of power, courage, and fidelity that motivated Jesus, provided his sense of himself and his relationship with God. Today we move a little further into the mystery of Jesus Christ, and Luke takes us to his hometown where we see something the habits that were part of his life, and how his life there shaped his future and his ministry. Luke tells us that Jesus was accustomed to go to the synagogue; that it was his habit. We further discover that it was there that he came to sharpen his focus and understand his purpose in life, his ministry, and in a sense, his vocation. In the grand scope of Luke’s writing, there develops a parallel focus in which he reveals something about Jesus in order to reveal something about the church as the community of believers.

What he says in the first part of his work, which we call “The Gospel” he says again in the second part of his work, which we call, “Acts of the Apostles.” When we look at the whole work, what he says of Jesus he is saying of the community of believers. What he tells us about the church he first establishes in Jesus. In other words, if Jesus did it, so does the church. If the church does it, it is because Jesus did it. So today, when hear Jesus put forth his agenda, it is the agenda of the church. In both volumes, Luke puts heavy emphasis upon the Spirit. The work of Jesus begins with the descent of the Holy Spirit at his Baptism. The work of the Church begins with the descent of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. First the Spirit guides and empowers Jesus, and then directs and empowers the church. What we must not fail to see and understand is that the work of Jesus is not simply “spiritual”, and it is not just for sometime in the future. What he does is for the present, and what he comes to do is for now. The liberation and the setting free he came to accomplish was for more than in the future in the Kingdom of God. Those he touched did not have to wait till heaven before they could see, hear, walk, or be clean. Those who came in faith were saved by that faith, not later, not in heaven, but right then; and their joy, their praise, and their thanksgiving didn’t have to wait either.

The agenda of Jesus was the whole person, and the liberty and release he came to accomplish came to mean the forgiveness of sin and all its consequences and manifestations. So if he came to confront the sin of injustice, then the consequences of that injustice were eliminated, all of them. If he came to release those who were held bound, then everything that held them had to go.

Luke makes it clear that this ministry of Salvation effected the liberation of the whole person, body and soul, mind and spirit. If it were so for Jesus, then it must be so for us as well. Sharing in the same Spirit by the will of Father, we share the same agenda. We, the liberated become the liberators. We who are saved share the message of salvation for all. We the forgiven share forgiveness. Just as we have been gathered into this wonderful experience of Jesus Christ, so shall we gather all with the same inclusive and all-embracing love. What we proclaim and what we do because of our Pentecostal understanding of our selves will also be the same: affecting the whole person, body and soul, mind and spirit. Our mission in the same spirit as the mission of Christ will be liberty and release. The forgiveness of sin that is ours to proclaim and accomplish

will bring an end to all the manifestations of that sin and its consequences or it will not be forgiveness at all.

What we become and how we live because of the Spirit’s power in our lives is for now and for today, not for some time off in the future, in far-off “heaven.” And so we confront injustice and we make it change first in our own lives, and then we change or systems and our ways of doing things and seeing things that result in injustice. We see the poor and the hungry, and we do not say: “You’ll have enough to eat in the Kingdom of God: because Jesus said: “Feed them yourselves.” The pity with which Jesus looked upon the crowds and the mercy that he showed them is the same pity with which we must look upon the crowds of hungry and homeless; and the mercy God extends to them comes from our own hands and out of our own lives, or there is no mercy at all.

What we hear spoken in the synagogue must be what we say in this church. The habit of Jesus must be the habit of those who would follow him. If he was in the habit of going to synagogue, and there perceived through the Word of God what his life was to be about, it is the same for us.

His habits must become our habits. The places where he found his identity and the vision of his live must become ours:  in Baptism and in the Spirit. Try out the words of the prophet on yourself, try .out the role of one who is beloved by God, chosen as his own, and sent to proclaim liberty and release, salvation, forgiveness, and love. For that is what we are, and it is what we become in this place. The agenda of Jesus is the same for every one of us.

January 13, 2003

Isaiah 42: 1-4,6-7 n+ Acts 10:34-38 + Mark 1:7-11

It is only the seventh verse of Mark’s Gospel The whole of this Gospel to this point has been occupied by John the Baptist. Only his voice has been heard. Up to this point, Matthew and Luke have been busy with Shepherds, Astrologers from the East, Old folks in the Temple, visions, dreams, and angels. None of that for Mark. The identity of Jesus the Christ will come from the Prophets and the Scriptures themselves. What angels announce in Matthew and Luke is spoken by a voice from torn open heavens. Loaded with images of Old Testament hopes, these five verses tell the end of the story at its beginning.

What a Roman centurion will proclaim on a hill outside Jerusalem at the end of this Gospel, a voice from the heavens proclaims in the Jordan. What happens to the veil in the Temple at the end occurs in the heavens at the beginning. Torn in two, the secret and everything that was hidden is made known. What only you and I and Jesus know in the first chapter is known to all by the last. It’s as though the story is being told in reverse. We know the ending at the beginning.

What Mark gives us here in the first chapter of the first Gospel is the faith of the community from which he writes. This voice that speaks so clearly is the voice of their faith and what they have come to believe. The identity established here in this first chapter

is more than the identity of Jesus of Nazareth. It is their identity that is about to be made known. It is more than the troubling relationship between Jesus and John that is explored here. It is the relationship of the new Israel (the dove) to God that is being revealed and unfolded.

What we discover here is the end of the story. Knowing what Jesus has been given; we know now what he has to give. This Jesus, having been given the Spirit will give that Spirit to others. This Jesus who has made himself one with those who seek repentance by choosing to be Baptized has a unique relationship with God that he will share with those who will come to the water. Through this story, Mark not only reveals the identity of Jesus, but he invites those who share his faith in this Son of God to orient their lives toward this Spirit-filled Jesus. He is the one who can guide and lead us into God’s new and decisive way of Salvation. There is no other way to get there.

Just as he died for us, he is baptized for us. He had no need of Baptism, but his willingness to go down into the water just like his willingness to go down to death brought him God’s affirmation and the Spirit. That spirit will next drive him into the desert where he will know temptation and emerge the victor.

That’s the end of the story, Victory for those who are filled with the Spirit. It can be the end of our story as well, but to get there we will have to go down into the water, into the desert, and into the mystery of this one who is servant and son.  When we confess who he is, we know what we can become. “Son of God” is a significant title for Jesus in Mark’s Gospel. It not only signifies the identity of Jesus and what he shall become as he is led by this spirit; but it reveals what we shall become by that same spirit poured out upon those who see themselves as one with him. And so, today it is not angels, prophets, old folks in the temple, shepherds, astrologers, or dreams that reveal Jesus Christ, but you and me.

The voice to be heard today is ours. The lives to be filled with the spirit are ours. The victory over temptation, evil, and death is ours, and for this we have every reason to give thanks, and praise, and glory.

January 18, 2004

Isaiah 62:1-5 + 1 Corinthians 12:4-11 + John 2:1-11

Today as always, the Gospel proclaimed reveals something about God, about Christ Jesus, and about us. Since I have been with you, I have been trying to teach you to look into the first reading for clues about how to understand the Gospel text. Doing that again today, we can hardly miss the message that Israel’s God was not content to participate in a relationship based only upon Creator and Creature. There’s was a God who invited creatures to become partners in a covenant. It was a covenant different from all others. It was not political for the sake of peace. It was not a treaty for commerce. It was not even a covenant of friendship. It was to be the covenant of a spouse – the two should become one. This was to be a covenant expressed in the language of love: “I will be yours; you will be mine.” “What is mine is yours, and what is yours will be mine.”

With that background, the details of John’s Wedding Feast Story are not so important. The place, the number of jugs, the guest list, wine quality, or the placement of the text in John’s Gospel is not the primary issue nor the first message we share today. If we were making a movie or painting a picture perhaps those details would be important, but not here and not now. Cana sets the scene for us to imagine God’s great passion for humankind. It tells us about a God who wishes to be with us like a husband with a wife or like a wife for her husband. In as much as Jesus Christ is the flesh and blood revelation of that God, he comes to us as a bridegroom. What we celebrate here is truly a wedding feast, not one from the past, but one for today. The bride and the groom of John’s Gospel have no names,

for this is not about them, it’s about us. This Good News we proclaim this day and every year after the Baptism of the Lord is that God has come to us like a spouse

to be with us and to take us as His own forever.

But this Gospel also reveals something about us. Our wine has run out. We are a people without a future, without hope, without joy until we invite Jesus Christ to be our guest and until we follow the instructions of his mother: “Do whatever he asks you.” For those who will, there will be a feast that lasts forever. For those who will, there will be no future without joy and without abundance. The days in which we live give more than convincing evidence that our wine is out. War, violence, poverty, consumerism, selfishness, infidelity, treating the gift of human life as though it were a disposable mass of tissue, abandoning our elders when they can no longer produce for us or entertain us, un-parented children violent, disrespectful, and helpless, half-empty churches, and the richest nation on earth cutting assistance to the poor and leaving millions without health care while it fires million dollar missals in the desert all says one thing: our wine has run out.

This is not a nice, cozy, romantic story about saving the day at Cana for a nice young couple. This is about a God looking for a partner for life: about a God who wants to reveal his endless mercy and abundant gifts in a most extravagant way. This gospel proclaimed in this place raises the question about who may be God’s partner; who might be able to extend God’s generous gifts by their own generosity and stewardship, who might put into action God’s forgiveness waiting to be given,

God’s mercy, and patience, waiting to be shared? Who will do that and when? Who will enter into this covenant with God and finally treat God’s gift of life for what it is, the first sacrament of God’s presence in this world?

Saying “Yes” to God who proposes a covenant like marriage to us means saying “No” to some other thing and lesser gods. Taking communion in this church is our entry into that covenant. It is no private matter between God and us. We do not step forward because we’re at the end of the pew, we are afraid what others might think, or because we feel good about it. We say “Amen” to this covenant of grace in the most public way possible, and we become one with our God in the most intimate way possible so that God’s presence in this world will be real, as real as we are. Today we know that our wine has run out, and that until Jesus Christ into our lives, we are left with the cheap wine or just jars or water.

January 6, 2004

Isaiah 60:1-6 + Ephesians 3:2-3,5-6 + Matthew 2:1-12

The question put before us by Matthew today is whether our relationship to Jesus is still a quest that springs from the deepest longings of our hearts. The quest to find Jesus makes restless every human heart, and who knows how or where people find Jesus? Some spend their whole lives looking without success, perhaps because they are blinded by their expectations.

This rich and ancient story we tell on the Twelfth Day of Christmas speaks of our quest and our expectations. It speaks of our quest because so much is revealed about us by our longings and the things we seek. It speaks of our expectations because where we look and what we look for affects what we find.

One star in a black night sky captured their attention because they were looking. Something different for them was a cause of wonder that led them to Christ. Not put off because the one they sought was not found in the great city of Jerusalem or its palaces, they found Him in insignificant Bethlehem in an ordinary house with his very ordinary mother.

This is a profound tale with a treasure of wisdom. Not everyone who looked at the sky that night saw what those astrologers from the East saw. Something more is required to recognize what is different and be willing to wonder and follow it. Too many of us look for what is the same; for what is not different, for what is predictable and expected. When something out of the ordinary occurs

or someone out of the ordinary moves through our lives, we shy away, are threatened, and avoid the challenge to our controlled and predictable existence. Those who avoid what is unexpected or different may very well never find Christ Jesus.

Blinded by expectations, the people of this story may well have missed the presence of Christ. Their willingness to go to Bethlehem, their wisdom to listen to the Scriptures, and their openness to any possibility brought them to Christ.

I suspect that when they returned home, their friends and family were a little amazed and a little amused. “What did you see?” they were probably asked. When their report was so simple, ordinary and humble, they must have been thought of as fools. But this is the beginning of the Good News some still consider foolish. The “gift” of this story may not be Gold, Frankincense, or Myrh. The “gift” they possess may be the wisdom to be unthreatened by what is different and unexpected with the willingness to look deeper into darkness. The “gift” they possess may be the ability to get beyond expectations and be surprised to discover the presence of God in people and places that seem to have nothing to offer.

When that happens, the ones who seem to have the most to offer, the ones bearing gifts end up being the ones who receive the real Gift of God. Our quest for Christ Jesus will reveal our expectations and challenge their limits. It will reveal the deepest longings of our hearts. If we long for palaces and their riches, for that security and the confidence that we know the way, we shall not have learned much from these companions of ours whose story we tell today.

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas our wise companions lead us into the mystery of the Incarnation; into the mystery of a God who will be revealed in the simple and the ordinary, the different and the unexpected. We may seem a bit foolish to believe this, but only in the eyes of those who can never wonder in the dark.