Acts 14, 21-27 + Psalm 145 + Revelation 21, 1-5 + John 13, 31-35

April 24, 2016 at Saint Peter & St William Churches in Naples, FL

The fragment of John’s Gospel we open today cuts through the complexity of human nature and the mixed motives behind everything that we do as it unfolds for us the meaning of glory and love.

There seem to be five kinds of love.

The first is utilitarian. We love someone because they are useful to us. It is obviously more love of self than of another. It says, “I love what you do, but I don’t love you.”

The second kind is romantic love. It is a kind of affection we feel because of the pleasure another gives us. We may think we love the other person, but what we really love is the feeling. It doesn’t last, which is why some marriages fail.

The third kind of love is democratic love which is based on equality under the law. We respect others because they are fellow citizens. We expect respect from them in return, and that is the honest reason for doing good things for them.

The fourth kind is humanitarian love. This is a general love for humanity. The problem lies in the fact that it is abstract rather than concrete. There are always exceptions: “I love human nature, but can’t stand those people next door.”

The fifth kind of love is what Jesus is speaking of today. It is Christian love summed up in the commandment he gives: “Love one another as I have loved you.” Now we are talking about disinterested love; loving even when there is nothing in it for us. This love persists when there is hostility and rejection. It is an enduring relationship expressed in service, affection, and self-sacrifice. It only is possible with the help of the Holy Spirit.

The glory Jesus speaks of is the final and total revelation of the Father, the God of Love. Glory is the revelation of what love is and therefore what God is. Jesus enters into his glory when he does exactly what the Father does, pour himself out for the sake of another – an “other” that may not be worthy, or able to give anything back. This is exactly what God is in God’s Love – a total outpouring of self. God gives. God gives all, even God’s only Son. To make that real and understandable for us, Jesus pours out everything he has to the very last drop – not because he will get anything in return, but simply because he is the human nature of the divine love.

The closest we come to this is embraced by the church as a sacrament. It is the sign of married love that is even more enhance by the sign of parental love. You faithful and loving people who have entered into the mystery of real love are living in glory. You are for this world. You are sign of God’s presence and Divine Love. Sacrifice, Service, and Selflessness are the tools of this love and its expression. Yet married love is the final and full expression of this divine love that can start even earlier in life before it is expressed and lived in marriage. A simple story says it all.

Five year old, Johnny, loved his big brother, Michael very much. One day the doctor told Johnny that Michael was very sick and need a blood transfusion. On hearing this Johnny began to cry. Then the doctor said to him, ‘Johnny, would you be willing to give some of our blood to your brother?” Johnny hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Yes, doctor.” The doctor took blood from Johnny, and afterwards Johnny continued to rest quietly on the table. At a certain point he looked up at the doctor and said, “Doctor, when do I die?” It was only then that the doctor fully appreciated the extent of this little boy’s love for his brother.

Jesus spoke about love at the last supper. He said to his apostles, “Greater love no one has than the one who lays down his life for his friends.” But it probably was only later, when Jesus had actually done that, that the apostles appreciated the extent of his love for them. Then they knew the greatness of the challenge facing them when the remembered those other words he said to them on the same occasion: “Love one another as I have loved you.” We may all be a bit slow in understanding and fulfilling the commandment, but the Holy Spirit comes to move us along little by little.

Acts 13, 14-52 + Revelation 7, 9-17 + John 10, 14-30

April 17, 2016 at Saint Peter & St William Churches in Naples, FL

Not too many years ago I was presiding at a funeral for man I had come to know during the last few months of his life. He was very ill, but taking his time about surrendering to the arms of mercy. It was my privilege as his pastor to share some time near the end of journey getting to know him. We prayed, we talked, laughed, and cried a few times. There were great stories shared between us, and then it was time for the funeral. A business associate and golfing partner stood up to give a “eulogy.” I sat for what seemed to be about an hour and half as the gentleman, with all good intentions, told the congregation about all the things his friend had done and accomplished in life. As he went on and on about this and that, I learned a lot things, got a lot of information about the man who had died, but as it went on and on, I began to realize that the speaker did not really know his colleague. He just knew a lot about him, and there is a big difference.

There are many people these days who know a lot about Jesus Christ. These folks probably know even more about him than those people who were hounding him to step into their trap. Some of those people John calls “the Jews”, at the time, knew what he had done, and they could probably quote things they had heard he said. They had an idea of “Messiah”, and he didn’t fit the description. They did not really know him. They just knew about him. Sadly, it is not much different today. There are books and movies, plays, videos, children’s coloring books, thousands of publications everywhere with all kinds of information about Jesus, but knowing Jesus Christ by hear say is a long way from knowing him personally, and that’s the issue raised in this week’s Gospel.

These verses come in reply to the question a not-so-friendly crowd put to Jesus about whether or not he was the Messiah. Refusing to fall into the trap of allowing himself to be defined by their messiah concept, he replied that they could not understand him because they were not among his sheep, and then he goes on to describe those who were his own. You see, it is all about a relationship, a relationship that real, immediate, and ongoing. It is not enough to know what Jesus did in the past. We have to know and experience what he is doing now in this church and in our lives day by day, and that relationship is just like every other relationship. It takes time, and it takes a little work. It takes a lot of listening, a lot of attention and presence. This is how you get to know someone. Some of those people were stuck on what Jesus was without any concern about who he was. They wanted to argue about a Messiah. He wanted to be their shepherd. The issue is: who is he, not what is he. That comes later. When you get to the point who Jesus is, you will know what he is. They didn’t want to put in the time and the effort to know who he was.

Now there are some who like to call this “Good Shepherd Sunday, but I am not so sure that is a good idea, because you can’t be a shepherd if there are no sheep. At least not for long. If this is “Good Shepherd Sunday” it is also “Good Sheep Sunday.” There is as much information here about who we are as there as there is about who Jesus is. We are a people who belong to the flock, who listen, and who obey the shepherd’s call. We know what we must do: listen and obey. We also know who we are, God’s children, and the more we work our way deeper into the wonder of that relationship, the deeper will be our faith and the richer our lives. While those who are nagging at Jesus over this “messiah” stuff, keep pushing for his identity, he pushes back to define another identity, ours. When this whole episode is over, we end up knowing as much about ourselves as we know about Jesus of Nazareth. In the few verses we hear today, we have an invitation that strikes at the very heart of our contemporary society that so prizes and encourages individualism. This phenomenon that so marks this age of human history is a time of extraordinary loneliness. I think sometimes this is why we see so many people are behaving so strangely and often so violently. The behaviorists call it “anti-social behavior.” I just call it loneliness. Most of time it is simply someone hurting so badly from a lack of attention and affection that they will get what they need any way they can. They don’t feel like they belong, but this Jesus proposes that our identity comes from belonging, from joining, and committing oneself to another or to a family.

I was struck this past week while sitting with these readings to notice for the first time a curious conflict of images. In the second reading the symbolic figure representing Christ is described as the “Lamb of God”. There he is a symbolic Lamb, one of the sheep? Then in the Gospel he becomes the shepherd. What is revealed to us is that Christ is both Lamb and Shepherd. In our tradition, we say that he is both the victim and the priest. More theologically, we profess that he is both human and divine. These seemingly contrary juxta-positions are really a reminder that draws us more deeply into the Incarnation of God who has become Man for the sake of our redemption. What we draw from pondering this is that we have a God and a Savior who has been one of us, who has lived among us, experienced everything we know about human life from birth to death. This Shepherd has been a Lamb. We have a God who lives with us. We have a God who knows us from intimate experience, and a God who wants to be known, not “known about”, but known. It is a God who has spent time with us and listened to us. Our voices are heard in these scriptures over and over again: “Help me.” Lord, I want to see.” Lord, I want to walk.” Lord, my daughter is ill with a fever.” He comes to Martha and Mary in their grief. He embraces a grieving mother whose only son has died. He touches those no one else will touch reaching out to the lonely and those shunned and avoided. Even in his most desperate hour, he listens to the cry of a dying criminal and makes him a promise.

We who choose to know this Shepherd become part of his flock. He knows us, and we know him. We stay in the fold. We listen. We make time to hear what he asks and what he promises. We are not out “doing our own thing.” We are always doing His thing. We care for each other, and we care about what he cares about. This is what and who we are becoming as members of Christ’s church on Good Sheep Sunday.

 Acts 5, 27-32 + Psalm 30 + Revelation 5, 11-14 + John 21, 1-19

April 10, 2016 at Saint Peter & St William Churches in Naples, FL

With Peter before us today, the Gospel affirms that strength and weakness can be found in the same person, and I suppose that is good news for all of us. The weakness of Peter is there all along and it is unmistakable, but Christ sees Peter’s strength and that too is good news for us because Peter is not the only person in whom there is strength and weakness. As we gather here today, we can only hope that Christ sees some strength in us as well.

There is a pattern to Peter’s experience with Christ that we might refer to as: “Call, Fall, and Re-call.” That first call occurred as Jesus was beginning his ministry. The second call is the one we hear today. Perhaps about three years passed between those calls, and during that time a lot of things happened to Peter. He found out a lot about the one who called him, about the task to which he was called, and most of all, he found out a lot about himself, and most of that was nothing to brag about. When the second call comes, he is a lot more wise and humble, and so his response this time is much more mature and enlightened than the first time.

I like to think that Peter’s story is a lot like our own, and that pattern of “Call, Fall, and Re-call” is ours as well. It’s that middle part that matters, and makes us more wise and humble as well. Sadly, too many people get the first two parts of this experience, but miss the third. When the fall comes, it’s just too devastating and too destructive. They never hear or respond to the re-call for one reason or another. We all know people like that who have fallen and never get up, who have faced a tragedy and never risen, and who have been broken and never healed: people whose weaknesses overcome their strengths.

The story of Peter is the heart of the Gospel message for people who have strengths and weaknesses, who have been called to faith and have fallen. Still in this Easter Season, we proclaim as a church that with Christ, no fall is the end of the story. We are, because of the power of forgiveness, all re-called again. The story reminds us that something more is expected of people who are forgiven, of people who have fallen. There is no just going back to the way things were, like Peter and his friends going back to their boats. Once called and fallen, there is forgiveness and then there is Mission. There is something more to do after forgiveness and reconciliation.

In today’s world, we cannot be “Keep it to ourselves” Catholics. The world is starving for spiritual nourishment, and people are looking for God everywhere. There is too much ignorance and prejudice about Christians and our beliefs. Our society is growing increasingly unwilling to defend the dignity of innocent human life, increasingly dismissive of the critical importance of married love to the health of human society, and increasingly hostile to the teachings of Jesus. If we do not speak up, who will? We are all re-called in our strength and weakness to love and feed his lost sheep. He has given us his Holy Spirit with all the gifts we need to do so. All we need to do now is step out with faith and courage and let the Holy Spirit take care of the rest.

 Acts 5, 12-16 – Psalm 118 – Revelation 1, 9-11, 12-13 – John 20, 19-31

April 3, 2016 at Saint Peter & St William Churches in Naples, FL

It is a world of wounded people who have celebrated Easter this year. Wounds are everywhere from Belgium to Paris, from Boston to Pakistan where Christian children celebrating Easter with their families are killed by a suicide bomb. These atrocities bogle the mind and tear at our hearts with the risk that we become numb to all of this and cease to stirred and troubled closing ourselves away from one another. All the while in the background multitudes of Syrian refugees flee their homes to be met by hostility and barbed wire. This church is full of wounds too, perhaps not as dramatic or violent, but there are wounds in every one of us. Wounds from divorce, wounds from tragedies, lost children, broken dreams and hopes, betrayals and unexpected deaths that leave people alone, helpless, and frightened. The whole earth cries out wounded and in pain.

Our response is often to lock the doors and close the windows. Hearts that are broken are too often frozen in grief and closed to healing. Like nations overwhelmed by the flood of refugees, we close the borders and in fear want to protect ourselves so that there can be no more wounds, or hurt, or pain. But into all of that steps Jesus who will not be kept out, and notice how he comes, with his wounds in plain sight, not hidden from view, or minimized. A wounded savior stands among the wounded.

He showed those wounds, but he did not whine about them, exaggerate them, or blame anyone. He did not stand in that room looking for pity either. He came as he always had before to reveal something about the one he called: “Father.” He was not afraid of suffering. He touched lepers. He lifted a woman suffering the humiliation of being caught. He went to Martha and Mary. He wept at the death of his friend. He was moved with pity for a widow whose son had died, and he felt the suffering of a foreigner whose daughter was dead.

To all he revealed a God who did not shy away from human suffering, pretend that it did not exist, or make nothing of the real pain human beings can cause one another. In that room he revealed that in resurrection and new life, the wounds do not disappear, but anger, vengeance, and hatred toward those who caused the pain is useless and will not take away the wounds. He came to reveal that even those who were afraid of wounds and locked themselves away in hiding find no healing and no life. Fear of getting hurt or of having wounds will not be the way for those who love and look at him with his wounds.

That broken and wounded Son of God stands in this room before us today through the words of John’s Gospel. He stands among us with all our wounds to remind us again that there is no hiding, pretending, avoiding, or denying the fact that those who love and who are faithful to God and God’s will cannot be lost, abandoned, or left unhealed. In spite of all the wounds, we shall rise again. In spite of all the doors we close, Christ will find a way to enter and call us out, out to faith, out to life, out to another day in which the glory of the resurrection will shine from our faces and from our hearts.

It is still Easter, my friends, and it will always be Easter for those who can look at a wounded Christ and see the Lord God. It will always be Easter when we look at our wounds without anger, hatred, or blame. It will always be Easter when we offer forgiveness instead of revenge, and it will always be Easter when wounds do not keep us from one another and especially from those who caused them.

 Acts 10, 34, 37-43 + Psalm 118 + 1 Corinthians 5, 6-8 + John 20, 1-9

March 27, 2016 at Saint Peter & St William Churches in Naples, FL

No one goes to a grave and expects to find it empty and if they did, they would not expect to find life in an empty tomb. But, that is what happened. That one John calls, “Mary” and then Peter and John went to an empty tomb and confronted the unexpected. They went there because their relationship with Jesus Christ was being challenged by their experiences in the preceding days. They did not expect to find an empty tomb. They did not expect to find life when they had seen death, but that’s the way it had been since they walked away from their past and their old way of life. One surprise after another kept them together with that man who walked through their life. At first they expected a political revolution, and some of them were slow to give up on that. They never expected to hear about a Kingdom that was not of this world. They never expected to see lame people get up and walk, blind people begin to see, and a young girl and an old friend be awakened from the sleep of death. Never expected to see 5000 people fed on five loaves and two fish. They never expected to see Samaritans, Tax Collectors, and sinners embraced as friends and included among the chosen. They never expected to be left alone either fearful of being hunted down and killed as co-conspirators or blasphemers; but they were.

After all, they were just ordinary people working hard to earn a living and care for loved ones when that man walked by and said: “Follow me.” They had no idea where they were going. They never expected to be led to an empty tomb and then find themselves trying to make senses of what it meant much less what to do about it. As we shall see from their stories in the weeks to come, they began to scatter and tried to go back to “business as usual”, but that didn’t work out. He did not leave them alone, and there was no going back. What they heard and what they had seen in his company changed them forever. Now things they never expected or imagined were suddenly very possible. Enemies began to speak to one another. A frightening God who demanded sacrifices and whose name could not even be spoken was now called: “Father”; and this Father preferred mercy over sacrifice, forgiveness over revenge, and love rather than fear.

From a manger in Bethlehem to an empty tomb outside Jerusalem it was all beginning to come together. God has visited God’s people, and God cannot die and still be God. No tomb can contain or restrain this Divine Word by which God has created all things. The Lord of Life will have nothing to do with death. The source of all goodness will change all evil into glory.

As the people of Israel spent 40 days in a desert being formed by trial and faith into a Holy Nation, we who have passed 40 days in the desert of Lent are formed as well into a Holy, Royal, and Priestly People. In forty more days and we shall hear again the voice of an angel that asks why we are standing around doing nothing but looking up into the sky. Ten days later, those who persevere in faith and hope will be lit by the fire by the Spirit and filled with the breath of that Spirit making all things new. There is nothing more to expect, and there is nothing more to wait for. The promise made in the Garden of Eden to Adam and Eve has been kept. The covenant made in the desert has been fulfilled and folded into the new covenant we share at this table.

No one goes to a grave and expects to find it empty. No one goes to an empty tomb and expects to find life: but we do, and as long as we do not run or hide in fear from anything or any evil, we shall bear witness to what we have seen and heard. We shall fulfill what has been promised, and we shall be a light shining in darkness reflecting the glory of the one who has come to set us free from death, despair, emptiness, and hopelessness. We are the ones called to life this day, a life of joy, a life of peace, a life that reflects the glory of the one who is life itself. This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad. Peace be with you.

 Luke 24, 1-12

March 26, 2016 at Saint Peter the Apostle Church in Naples, FL

Rolled in place and set with a seal, that stone was there to stay so some thought, but those women who had a different idea.

We all have our versions of that stone in our lives. Every one of us here knows what it is like to be in a tomb with a big stone in our way. We know what it is like to be trapped, blocked, or held back from something we want, need, or have dreamed of. We have stones of resentment that keep us entombed in bitterness or anger and rob us of Joy. We have stones of the past, mistakes we’ve made, failures, disappointments, and broken dreams that rob us of Joy. We have stones of self-doubt and depression, stones of old memories and shadows of a past that haunt us and steal our Joy. We have the stones of ignorance and prejudice, unbelief and doubt, stones of fear, independence and stubbornness that have been in our way, blocked our growth, and stifled the work of the Spirit.

But we are here, all of us because those stones have not been as permanent as we thought. A glimmer of light as dim as a candle shines into the darkness of all that stuff with a flicker of hope that gives us reason to think like the women of this Gospel that someone will roll back the stone. We are in this holy place, priests and deacons, sponsors, baptized, and confirmed, children and grandparents, friends, and neighbors all because someone has rolled back the stone that have kept us apart, kept us in the dark, and kept us from the light of a resurrection day.

The story of these women is our best news, and they are great teachers, for they came to that tomb in hope and certain that someone would roll back the stone that kept them from Jesus. Little did they know along the way what it might all mean and what would happen when they found the stone rolled back and what they would become because of it.

It shall not be different for us. The stones have to go. Expect that they will, be confident that by your hope and by the power of Life itself in Jesus Christ all the stones will roll away.

This is the news we share this night. This is the way we walk to the tombs that darkness, sin, and Satan may have prepared for us; singing the Alleluia of Life itself. Walk together, stay together, and preserve this oneness, because the sin and sadness of death, the violence, hatred, anger, power and envy of the days before did not break them apart, scatter them in weakness, nor destroy the bond and unity for which Jesus had prayed just before his death.

It shall be so for us. Stay together, that is the essence of “church”. Look at the ministers at this altar. It is a vision of the church. Two islands and two continents, cultures, colors, and people all one in Christ’s church. In that unity, no stone stays put, no stone is too heavy, no stone can keep us from the risen Christ. Be Joyful. Be confident. Be grateful. Be faithful. Christ is risen, and we shall rise again with him by the power of his Spirit.

 Luke 19, 28-40 + Isaiah 50, 4-7 + Psalm 22 X Philippians 2, 6-11 + Luke 22, 14 – 23, 56

March 20, 2016 at Saint Peter and Saint William Church in Naples, FL

There is a detail in the 19^th chapter of Luke’s Gospel that slides by easily. There are no palms in Luke’s Gospel. Having said that, do you remember what it was they spread on the ground in front of him? Yes, their cloaks, their single most important and valuable piece of clothing. It was the most expensive article of clothing anyone had in those days. Constantly mended, it was never discarded. For the poorest of the poor, it was their shelter. For the wealthiest, it was their badge of success. There is something else unique about Luke’s Gospel not found in Matthew and Mark. The crowd is not shouting “Hosanna”. They are shouting: “Peace in Heaven and Glory in Highest.” It’s an echo or a repeat of the message angels brought at the birth of Christ. So, what began with a message of Peace and Glory, ends with that message now taken up by the people of Jerusalem. Today, what began with the ashes of Palms five weeks ago ends with Palms. What begins with a triumphant procession into Jerusalem ends with another procession of shame leaving Jerusalem. Jesus rides in with glory and shouts of joy. He walks out with jeers and scorn. Contrasts everywhere you care to look in these readings and in this liturgy. Even now we began here in song after weeks of entering in silence here at St Peter. We will depart in somber silence.

Something has happened to us, and for believers, there is not avoiding the reality and the truth of it. Jesus Christ, the Son of God has traded places with us. The innocent has traded places with the guilty.

All through Luke’s Passion account, the innocence of Jesus is announced for all. The religious leader, Herod Antipas, knew it and sent Jesus back to Pilate. That civil leader, Pilate, knew it too and said so: “There is no charge against him. He has done nothing to deserve death.” A criminal crucified beside him proclaims the innocence of Jesus. Then at the very end, a Roman Centurion knows it and says it. “Surely this was an innocent man.” The innocent one has died so that the guilty may live. There is nothing innocent about us when we tell the truth about our lives. What we must leave her pondering is how and why God would be willing and able to trade places with us suffering like a guilty one in order for us to share the life of the innocent one. That is what has happened. To give us the child’s place at the Father’s right hand, the innocent Son gave up his place there to redeem and restore us to the place the Father has prepared for us. There is much here to wonder about, and even more here to be grateful for.

Ezekiel 37, 12-14 + Psalm 130 + Romans 8, 8-11 + John 11, 1-45 (Lectionary Cycle A)

March 13, 2016 at St William Church in Naples, FL

In this Gospel, John is not telling a story about Mary, Martha, and their brother Lazarus. John is presenting a “sign”, one of several that make up the outline or framework of the Fourth Gospel. Because it is a sign and not a miracle story, there are a lot of details that get confusing if you simply think this is a miracle story. For instance: why did Jesus take so long to go to Bethany, or is Lazarus going to die again and leave his two sisters to grieve twice? At the very beginning we are told by John that this is for the glory of God that the Son of God may be glorified through it. This is not about a family crises in Bethany. It is about the crisis of the world caught up in death and sin. It is not about a corpse being resuscitated nearly as much as it is about giving life to the world.

This text is like a thin sheet of paper laid on top of another. There are words here, and there is a story, but bleeding through from beneath there is another message, the real one. This story is like a shadow that tells us something about the real event that is happening in the light. The story of Lazarus is a sign, and for us this weekend, it is a sign pointing us toward what we will celebrate, acknowledge, and affirm as the foundation of our faith in two weeks. This story is full of clues if you read the story carefully. We are told that the end of this story will be the glorifying of the Son. Thomas says, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” You see, it is pointing toward the death of Jesus and his resurrection, not to the death of Lazarus. Notice that Jesus is deeply  moved and troubled, that he weeps, that the tomb is near Jerusalem, that it is a cave with a large stone covering the entrance that must be rolled back. Jesus cries out in a loud voice – remember that he does that from the cross. Then, the grave cloths are removed from one dead but now alive, and we should think of the grave cloths removed and folded in an empty tomb. John wants us to think of Jesus, not focus on Lazarus.

Lazarus left the tomb, and the price of that was that Jesus had to enter it. Jesus himself said that one cannot give life unless one dies. He made no exception for his own case. This willingness to submit to the giving of life, which he had asked of his disciples, is dramatically stated when Jesus asked where Lazarus had been laid, they said to him, “Come and see.” Do you remember what he said when he called his disciples from their old lives as fishermen: “Come and See?”

It’s all here for us now, the way to life, the way to glory, the way to the Father. A weeping Jesus does not weep so much for Lazarus as he weeps for all of this world still trapped in death and violence, trapped in tombs of doubt and fear. As the weeping Jesus dries the tears of Martha and Mary, he does so for all who share and speak the faith Martha proclaims. The life and the glory that he shares with us is not cheap or easy. It means service, suffering, sacrifice, perseverance, and obedience to the Will of the Father. It will mean rest in a tomb but with readiness to come out when he calls.

Isaiah 43, 16-21 + Psalm 126 + Philippians 3, 8-14 + John 8, 1-11

March 13, 2016 at St Peter the Apostle Church in Naples, FL

It is a story of mercy well worth hearing again during this Holy Year of Mercy. The woman caught and condemned is not the only one who receives mercy even though she seems to be at the center of the story. The Scribes and Pharisees receive mercy as well. They learn a lesson and also get a second chance although we don’t know how much good it does. As sinners we may find comfort by identifying with the woman in the story, but we might learn more by shifting our attention to the Scribes and Pharisees. While there may be a few big sinners and adulterers among us, if the truth is told we are more like the Scribes and Pharisees than the woman. We judge, we embarrass, we accuse, we reveal secrets, and we often choose the moral high ground when it comes to the faults and sins of others.

The woman, whose sin is acknowledge goes away free and forgiven. She gets to experience mercy, but those others whose sin is never named nor really acknowledged just slip away trapped in their righteousness and convinced that they are doing the right thing. Of course, the “right thing” for them has nothing to do with this woman they are using. The right thing for them is trapping Jesus, catching him in violation of the law. They seem to be deaf to the very word and commands of God they want to enforce. “It is mercy I desire, not sacrifice” says God in the sixth chapter of the Old Testament Book of Hosea, but they only listen to themselves jealous of the Rabbi who draws bigger and more admiring crowds than they do. So they are willing to sacrifice this woman to their ideals forgetting all about mercy which they think she does not deserve. What lies behind all this is the fact that justice without mercy is never really just. It is only revenge.

Earlier this week while studying this text, I came across this little story that left me thinking for hours. One day a mother came to plead with Napoleon for her son’s life. The young man had committed a serious offence. The law was clear. Justice demanded his death. The emperor was determined to ensure that justice would be done. But the mother insisted, “Your Excellency, I have come to ask for mercy not for justice.” But he does not deserve mercy.” Napoleon answered. “Your Excellency, said the mother, “it would not be mercy if he deserved it.” “So be it,” said Napoleon. “I will have mercy on him.” And he set her son free.

My friends, Mercy, of its nature, is pure gift. It is something we all stand in need of and none of us deserve. It is a gift we have already received, and a gift the worthy will pass on to others remembering the words of Jesus spoken to us all: “Blessed are the merciful; they will obtain mercy.”

Josiah 5, 9-12 + Psalm 34 + 2 Corinthians 5, 17-21 + Luke 15, 1-3, 11-32

March 6, 2016 at Holy Spirit Church in Mustang, OK

Waiting. It is well past bed time for Mom and Dad, but sleep is out of the question. Their 16 year old son is out with friends. Curfew is eleven, and they know he will be in on time. Sure enough the door slams exactly at eleven. Coming into the living room, he says, “Why did you wait up?” Trying to be cool, they say “We weren’t waiting up – we just wanted to see the end of this movie.” Then it’s off to bed for everyone, home and family once again complete and at peace.

Mom and Dad wait. The angry words still resonate in the house. In time, this storm too will pass like hundreds of others have that rocked the family. It will blow over. Until then, Mom and Dad put aside their heartbreak and get ready to be forgiving and welcoming parents when the angry son or the put-upon daughter returns because that’s what you do when you are Mom and Dad.

Wait. Everything has been a blur since that phone call: she was crossing the street on her way home and a car came out of nowhere. The driver never saw here. Someone called 911 and….after hours of surgery, they sit by a hospital bed. Their precious daughter hooked up to a wall of blinking monitors, and for the time being, this small hospital room is home, and they wait.

The love of a parent for a child is a remarkable thing. Children have no idea how much their parents do and would do for them: while many good parents never realize what that love enables them to do. They just do it, and so it is easy to tell this story again from Luke’s Gospel. We understand it. We know what it means, and what it suggests to us about a God Jesus taught us to call, “Father.”

Yet, at the same time, it is not easy to tell this story, because there is no peace in that house as the story concludes. The reconciliation is incomplete, and while the father may have one of his sons back alive, another stands outside angry refusing to even call his father by that name and refers to his brother as, “That son of yours.” What could be a joyful story of a family united in peace is really a sad reflection on the present condition of the human family broken and angry, envious, greedy, and prideful.

When the characters are removed from the parable, it chronicles the struggle between virtue and vice that goes on within every one of us. The struggle is made all the worse by a confusion within us over values and virtues. Understanding the difference and putting them in the right order provides the insight and wisdom to see virtue victorious over vice. Virtues and Values are not the same thing. Confusing them is not helpful for those who want to grow wise and holy. Confusing them is a formula for personal, spiritual, and social disorder. A virtue is behavior that makes me good. A value is something I want. Virtue speaks to morality. Value has nothing to do with morality. Morality is about what I do with my values. For example, money is value. It is not good nor bad. I can use it to support my family, or buy drugs. I can use it to do good things or bad things. Only my behavior is good or bad when it is consistent with virtue. Values are relative. $50 is a lot of money. $500 is a greater value, but virtues are absolute. Kindness is always good. Patience is always good. Justice is always good. When we confuse these two, values often are often placed ahead of virtues. For example, our culture often places freedom, which is a value ahead of responsibility which is a virtue which can be a disaster because freedom is not a virtue. It does not make us good. Responsibility does.

The boys in this parable are good examples of Virtue and Value face to face. The older son has a lot of values, working hard, doing what is expected of him, but there is no virtue in him. As he stands there proclaiming his values, there is nothing really good about him, and none of us would want to be like him. He is arrogant, mean, proud, and very much alone. Then there is the other one whom I always like to think of in terms of virtue. He has one no one can miss, and it is probably the most important one of all: humility. That virtue makes him good again, and if you would have to choose which of the two you would want as a friend, I hope you would choose the younger one. He would be good to have around. He is wise, humble, and loving.

Tonight, Monday, and Tuesday evenings here at Holy Spirit, I have come to spend a little time with you reflecting upon virtues and vices. Whether or not such a reflection is of value to you remains to be seen, but I would like to propose that as we move through the last days of this Lenten season, it might be valuable to do something with the time we have left. I am going to speak about what our church tradition has for centuries called: “The Seven Deadly Sins.” These vices that make us miserable and continue to leave the human family broken and alienated. Lots of people these days don’t like to talk about or hear about “sin.” Many may insist that they have “issues”; but hardly does anyone like to say they have “sins.” Yet when recently asked by a reporter who he was, Pope Francis without a pause said: “I am a sinner”, and with those four words, he unmasked the lie and the denial with which we stumble through life blaming and accusing others for the choices we make every day.

It will do no good however to simply list the vice or the sin or the “issue” if you want to pretend. What we need is to learn, understand, and practice the virtue that will, when embraced, will lift us up, restore the human goodness and glory for which we were made in God’s image. I’m going to talk about those virtues each night and contrast them to the vice and the sin their absence allows to wound and fester the human soul. Pride and Envy tonight. Anger and Sloth Monday, and Greed, Gluttony, and Lust on Tuesday. I always save the best till last. So I invite you come for an hour or so to pray, reflect on the Word of God, and learn to cultivate real virtues that will eventually, if we wait long enough, and God is patient with us will get the party started with everyone in the house.