Saint Andrew Church in Moore, OK

Ezekiel 2, 2-15 + Psalm 123 + 2 Corinthians 12, 7-10 + Mark 6, 1-6

The ministry of Jesus in Galilee is over. Having set a possessed man free, calmed the raging sea storm, raised up the daughter of Jarius, and cured the woman who touched him, he turns back to his own region of the country, and we find him at what Mark calls, “His own native place.” The mood is different, and it is not friendly. The startling report from Mark is that apart from curing a few sick people, “he was not able to perform any mighty deeds”. The implications of this report ought to leave us stunned. Is there a limit to the power of God? Is there something that can interfere with and stop mighty deeds?

It would be simple to say that where there is no faith, God’s mighty deeds are ineffective. However, there is more to this than a lack of faith. These people are not simply faithless, they are arrogant, proud, and very full of themselves. So sure of their opinion, and so confident that they know everything, the gift they might have found in Jesus is refused. Consequently, they have no share in the signs that point to God’s presence among them. Blinded by their certitude they cannot see who stands before them in their synagogue. Deaf to everything but the sound of their own voices, they cannot hear the good news being offered and proclaimed to them. Instead of engaging in conversation with the one who calls for their conversion, they talk to themselves and seal their fate: no mighty deeds!

Mark would have us see that there is a direct connection between faith and mighty deeds, but even before faith is formed and acknowledged there must be an openness that allows faith to find a home. These people in Nazareth are not open to anything new, to anyone who goes beyond their narrow minded, self-protecting expectations. They reject the whole idea that someone can change, grow, and become an instrument of God’s mercy and love. In doing so they cannot change. They do not grow, and God will do nothing with them: no might deeds!

It is a powerful lesson and message for all of us whose conversion and growth in faith must be a continual way of life. At no point in our lives may we entertain the idea that we know everything, and a refusal to listen and explore ideas contrary to our own is a hint that pride is at work, and it is a deadly sin when left unchallenged. These people are incapable of change and growth, and so they deny it and refuse to acknowledge it in others. Deadly.

An open heart and an open mind is the seed-bed of faith. People who stop learning and cease to wonder and study about faith, revelation, and God’s mighty deeds will not see them. Worse than the tragedy of indifference is the haughty and smug attitude of a closed heart and a made-up mind that judges others and their ideas with presumptions and assumptions that come from within rather than from without. The Gospel and the faith it nourishes must be fed by wonder and awe, curiosity and a desire for life which always means growth and change. This is what feeds conversion and ultimately repentance which is essential for the Kingdom of God. The mighty deeds worked by Jesus were always signs that Kingdom of God was near; but for those in that place, it was a long way off.

Wisdom 1, 13-15 & 2, 23-24 + Psalm 30 + 2 Corinthians 8, 7-9, 13-15 + Mark 5, 21-43

Two women without names both called “daughter” and two examples of faith is what Mark puts before us today. Then there is a man who has a name, Jarius. He not only has a name, he has faith. Tradition suggests that because he is named, he was a known disciple of Jesus as time went on. But these verses are not really about him. They are about the two women and what happens to them. Notice that the number twelve comes up twice in these verses, a number that always suggests completeness or fullness. The young woman is twelve years old. She is just at the age when she can give life. She is the daughter of what must have been a prosperous and significant leader in the community. The older woman has suffered for twelve years and is completely ruined, hopeless, and penniless, and because of her twelve year affliction is unable to give life. The story builds around these themes.

As much as a reflection on Jarius might be fruitful for a sermon on prayer, he is not the center of the story even though his faith, patience, and trust are tested by the slow moving Jesus who, surrounded by a big crowd, stops moving toward his home to ask what seems to everyone a silly question: “Who touched me?” The question however, highlights what the church puts before us today: touch. First the older woman touches Jesus, then Jesus touches the young girl. In both actions there is a serious violation of the law that says you do not touch women who are bleeding, and you do not touch corpses. In her condition, the older woman is as good as dead. She has nothing left. She has been cast out with no hope of being healed and restored to the life of the community. The twelve year old seems to be dead too at the very threshold of life she is being mourned. Then comes the touch that changes everything.

In a sense, Jesus trades places with them. Two who are untouchable and unclean are restored by one who is willing to risk sharing their condition to show them the mercy and love of God. One who has and is life trades places with them to give them a life. He will suffer for this violation of the law persecuted and accused by the law enforcers who are always in the way of God’s mercy and love.

The story of both of these women is a story of what happens when death comes into contact with the living Christ. Whatever God touches springs to life. The woman in the crowd believes so deeply in Jesus that, even without his attention or permission, she is able to tap into the life force that comes from him. When he touches the child’s hand, life leaps through him into her, her heart begins to beat again and she opens her eyes, and she not only rises up, she begins to walk around. And then, Mark puts this right into focus by telling us that Jesus said: “Give her something to eat.” Suddenly this story pulls us into the Eucharist.

In a few moments we shall all be touched by God. We shall come into intimate physical contact through Holy Communion with the life-giving God who has come to us in Christ Jesus. These miracles preview the new creation Christ has come to proclaim. Life comes again into this world because of Jesus. Today we celebrate a miracle, but not simply one from the past. We celebrate a miracle that happens today, because when we receive Jesus Christ in Communion, his breath, body and blood flow into us. We become Christ’s body in the world.

Both the miracles of Mark’s Gospel and the miracle of today highlight the importance of faith. Without it, we are unable to participate in the powerful life flowing from Jesus into his church. Faith means staying in touch with Jesus, even if we must push through unbelieving crowds who discount religion and our faith. If we falter in faith, Jesus says to us what he said to Jarius: “Do not be afraid.” We are a people touched by God. Think of that as you come in procession to this altar to touch again and consume the life-giving Body and Blood of Christ. Remember what Mark tells about what happens to people touched by God. Live! Regardless of the obstacles this world can throw up in our face, live and let the mercy and the love of God flow through you.

MS Amsterdam

Job 38, 1, 8-11 + Psalm 107 + 2 Corinthians 5, 14-17 + Mark 4, 35-41

Last week’s gospel about faith the size of a mustard seed has set us up now to go deeper into an understanding of faith and how faith works in our relationship with God. The boat and the storm are like scenery on a stage for a play. In a really good play it is the script that matters not the scenery. So these verses of Mark’s Gospel are not about storms and boats. This incident is about faith. The whole of Mark’s Gospel chronicles the development and growth of disciple faith. This is only chapter 4, so it is early, and clearly these disciples are a little short of what Jesus is looking for. They are impressed, awe struck, wondering who this is in the boat with them, but they are afraid. The measure of fear is always in relation to the measure of faith. Little faith, great fear. Great faith, little fear.

The disciples at this stage of their growth in faith look up on Jesus as their “safety net.” He is there to help them, and they are upset when the help is slow in coming. He’s sleeping for heaven’s sake when they are scared to death! The assumption with this kind of faith is that God’s duty is to take care of and provide for anyone deserves it. This kind of thinking, this idea of “faith” is very handy for the fortunate in this world. It proves their worthiness and gets them off the hook of responsibility for the masses of people who suffer. “Why doesn’t God do something about this?” is the thinking that manifests this kind of “faith” which is more like an insurance policy than the kind of faith Jesus is looking for.

People who only go to God in their need are stuck at the level of the apostles in the storm tossed boat. Self-concern is really what is expressed in their prayer, while the presence of God in others who are suffering finds no place in their consciousness and prayer. A greater faith looks at the poor, at refugees, at the lost, or the sick and they see God suffering, and their prayer rises up for a spirit of wisdom or courage to relieve that suffering, ease that pain, and share that burden. This is the kind of faith that Jesus is looking for. In another place in the Gospels, Jesus wonders aloud if he will find any faith on this earth when he returns. What he wants, what he expects, what he is looking for is far more than people crying out when they are scared or hurt. He wants to see faithful people taking care of one another just as he has done among us.

Paul in writing to the Corinthians today is utterly convinced that Christ’s life in us changes everything so much that Christ’s love actually “impels us” to live no longer for ourselves but for Christ. Paul is trying to point out that because we are one with Christ, death can harm us no more than it can harm Christ. He never says we will not suffer and eventually die. A life without suffering is hardly a life lived, and it certainly does not indicate that one is favored by God while those who suffer are not favored by God. The faith Jesus hoped to find in his disciples as they went through the storm is an “interior certainty, a conviction that God can act in every situation. Faith means believing in God who truly loves us, does not abandon us, and always brings good out of evil by his power and his infinite creativity. The readings we proclaim today invite us to evaluate our faith, asking not what it promises us, but what we can become because of it.

MS Amsterdam

Ezekiel 17, 22-24 + Psalm 92 + 2 Corinthians 5, 6-10 + Mark 4, 26-34

There is something about this world that scorns and despises whatever is small. The rule of this world is that bigger is better. Having lived a good part of my life on top of Texas, I know this kind of thinking.  “Everything is bigger in Texas. Maybe. Traffic jams are. Anyone who has ever tried to get through Dallas would nod with a smile. I am not sure where the root of this thinking lies, but having the biggest house or car, the tallest building or simply having the biggest muscles and power is an idea that weaves its way through our culture and society which lives by sight not by faith. Even building and having the biggest cruise ship is somehow thought to be special and indicate some prominence. Some of my confreres think that being pastor of the “biggest” parish makes one the best. Perhaps all of this springs from some lack of self-esteem or basic insecurity rooted in one’s childhood. Sometimes it might simply be a manifestation of sinfulness rooted in pride or greed. Whatever it is about, the parable we proclaim and reflect upon today flies in the face of thinking that bigger is better. This is living by sight.

The kingdom we are striving to build on earth at the command of Jesus is one that actually embraces and even seeks what is small. We must never forget that it all began in a little place, a tiny village, scorned by everyone called Nazareth; and then in an equally little place called, Bethlehem a tiny light began to shine in the darkness. A carpenter’s son who told stories of seeds, trees, and birds shunned the big, mighty, and powerful to move among those who were small in the eyes of the world: outcasts, powerless, sinners, tax collectors, prostitutes, and children. This parable speaks to what is small and tiny with a vision of hope that can confound the powerful and everything that is big.

The kingdom we are striving to build on earth at the command of Jesus understands humble beginnings, meagerness, and simplicity. It prospers in these conditions faithful to the one whose simplicity and humble beginnings first proclaimed this kingdom among us. That small band of powerless and insignificant people who heard that carpenter sprang to life with the little seed of faith he planted in their hearts. It was faith that moved them, not sight. What this world would judge to be unlikely, improbable, or even impossible can and has become something monumental. What grows from faith is a place of possibility and hope, a life of joy with the promise of peace.

With time, trust, and faith, this world can change because we have. Following in the footsteps of Christ, obedient to his Word and the Will of the Father, we are the mustard seed planted in this world. We are the ones who can shelter and protect what is small and weak. Those who need protection, shelter and shade, mercy and love must find in us what birds find in the branches of great trees. The Gospel we proclaim today is about us; about what we can become and what we called to be when we live by faith and not by sight.

MS Amsterdam

Exodus 24, 3-8 + Psalm 116 + Hebrews 9, 11-15 + Mark 14, 12-16, 22-26

This feast is about hunger before it is about food. Knowing the hungers of the human heart opens the way to understand what the gift of the Eucharist provides. Several weeks ago when I began to prepare for the cruise we are beginning the reality of these hungers struck me powerfully as I thought about what goes on all day and nearly all night in the Lido and in the La Fontaine dining room. It’s hard to think about hunger with all this feasting, but today the Church thinks about hunger and then about food.

Deeper than physical hunger and more powerful there is a hunger for life, a hunger for love, a hunger for companionship, acceptance, understanding, and always a hunger for merciful forgiveness. Sadly, not recognizing or acknowledging these hungers leads to all kinds of abuse, not the least of which might be gluttony or any other addictive behaviors that somehow never satisfy nor quiet these deep and very real human hungers. All around us we are fed with foods that do not satisfy. Power, Pride, Vanity, Money, Privilege, Success, and many others never quite satisfy our deepest hungers, and the most convincing sign that this is true is the fact that there is never enough. The hungry fed on these things always want more and more.

At the beginning Jesus Christ came to eat with us and share our hungers. We should remember that the first temptation he faced in the desert concerned bread and using food for power. The first of the great signs he worked in John’s Gospel was at a wedding feast. In all the days of his earthly ministry, he continually confronted the hungers of humankind, and finally having shown us and told what to do in front of thousands who followed him into the wilderness hungry for his word, he fed us with the only food that will end our hungers on the night before he died.

The food that Jesus offers is not much when compared to what is available on this ship and in our homes. It is not particularly tasty, and the little bite we receive doesn’t seem like much. So we sometimes dream of other foods like the Jews in the desert who complained about the manna and longed for the meat and fruits they had in Egypt. They forgot that they had these things at the table of slavery. They did not remember well what God had done for them because a slave’s memory is not free.

“Do this in memory of me.” Jesus says to us. Remembering is what we do here at this table. Here, and only here will we satisfy the hungry heart. Here we need not worry about whether or not there is enough. There always will be. Here those who hunger to be included always have a place. Here all who hunger for mercy and forgiveness are fed, and those hungry for life find love, because without love there is no life. Here those who are lonely find companions who share our common hope for joy and for peace. So, on this day when the whole church celebrates the gift of the Holy Eucharist, the Body and Blood of Christ, we remember the one who has set us free, and we feast again on the food that can satisfy our deepest hungers. We do it together as church as family, as hungry people who know the table of mercy.

May 31, 2015  +  Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL

Deuteronomy 4, 32-34, 39-40   Psalm 33   Romans 8, 14-17   Matthew 28, 16-20

The comparison floated through my mind for a long time before I was willing to suggest it publically, and it still seems almost trite to suggest it, but I can’t think of a better way to get some insight into the Holy Trinity other than to propose to you that this feast today is our faith-filled version of the secular/commercial world’s “Valentine’s Day”. I suggest that because this is a feast of love that celebrates a gift we call “grace” and the identity we have as “children of God” and “friends”, as Jesus referred to us during his prayer at the Last Supper. The Trinity is not a theological concept nor a complex philosophical discussion. It is a lived experience of our relationship with God. The first time you said: “Our Father” and meant it, you did so by the power of the Holy Spirit says Paul today in the Letter to the Romans. That Spirit enables us to understand that we are children of God. By that Spirit drawn into this intimacy with God we discover that God is not off in some infinite solitude; but that God is in communion with us giving and receiving light and life.

The real truth about who God is and what Divine Life is all about can only be discovered in relationship, a relationship of love. Through the Incarnation of the Word made flesh, a relationship is established with us, God enters into our life and invites us to enter into God’s life through the Word, Jesus Christ. The entire mission of Jesus Christ was to invite and teach us how to live in love, in unity and in peace. His life of service and reconciliation, healing and forgiveness is the love of God for us gathering in the lost and those left behind. We are the ones he came to gather together. We are the ones he called, friends. We are the ones he cherished most, and to us has been given all that he has as the Son of God.

Our Jewish ancestors in the faith understood this reality very well. Moses describes it for us in the first reading from the Book of Deuteronomy, our Jewish sisters and brothers understand that they have been chosen from all the nations on earth to be a people special to God. They remember their long history beginning with the covenant with Abraham, through their delivery from slavery in Egypt, and into the crossing of the Jordan River into the Promised Land. Because they are a chosen people, they understand that they cannot live the way other nations live. They must live according to the law God revealed to them. They must show forth his justice and mercy by caring for those society casts aside and by turning their backs on all forms of immorality. How can it be different for us who have been called out of the slavery of sin and given the Spirit of adoption? We must live according to the Gospel message so that our dignity as sons and daughters of God can be shown forth to the whole world.

This experience of being drawn into the very life of God begins for us at Baptism as the command Jesus has given is obeyed. Baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit seals our adoption into the family of God. Every other sacrament draws us deeper into this divine life of grace which makes our participation in all the sacraments so very important if God’s life is to be sustained in our own. We bless ourselves day after day, meal after meal, and prayer after prayer because we are holy and chosen ones worthy of the blood of the lamb living with the dignity that is ours as sons and daughters of God.

The Holy Trinity then is not some theological concept. It is no more a “mystery” than love itself. Our celebration in this liturgy today is an occasion to rejoice over what has been revealed to us about God and about God’s action among us through the Holy Spirit. We are chosen, holy, saved, and redeemed by the power of God’s love made manifest in Jesus Christ. Moved and inspired by the Holy Spirit, we can and will know God not as some distant dangerous power to be feared, but as love itself ready to risk everything and give everything for our sake, for our salvation, and for our love in return.

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL  May 24, 2015

Acts 2, 1-11   Psalm 104   1 Corinthians 12, 3-7, 12-13   John 20, 19-23 

There are two versions of the Spirit’s coming in the Gospels, Luke’s and John’s. We heard Luke’s with the first reading, and John’s with the Gospel. I don’t know about you, but I much prefer the second version from John’s Gospel. That wind and fire stuff is too disturbing and confusing. It distracts me. I would rather be breathed on than face a hurricane or tornado. We are never going to know what actually happened in that fear filled room with doors closed and locked, but here we are again in that room today in both versions. The friends of Jesus are afraid. Fear is all they feel now, a fear so strong that the meaning of his death and the news of his resurrection means nothing to them.

Perhaps what really matters in the details of the Spirit’s coming is the consequence of what happened in that room rather than any of the details from John or Luke. Whatever it was, breathing or an indoor firestorm, something changed, and fear is gone. Whatever it was, something new is happening, but newness is always challenged by fear because we always feel more secure if we have everything under our control and plan our lives with our own ideas and preferences. It is the same when it comes to God. We follow and accept God’s plan but only up to a certain point. We are afraid that God will force us to strike out on a new path leaving our narrow, closed and selfish horizons in order to become open to God’s plan. Yet the history of salvation tells us that whenever God reveals himself, there is newness and change demanding complete trust. Noah, mocked by all, builds an ark and is saved. Abram leaves his land with only a promise in hand. Moses stands up to the might of Pharaoh and leads people to freedom. The apostles break out of that room with courage and a message. When the Spirit of God is present, there is something new, and fear will not do. People who live by the Spirit cannot be afraid of anything new, and they know that there will be surprises when God is near. They are not afraid because they know that God loves and desires only our good.

In fear, we like things to be uniform and predictable. We want standardization and feel better when we are surrounded by people like ourselves which closes us up and makes us different from others. Division is the consequence. But Spirit filled people find no threat in the fact that different people have different gifts; and for them diversity is a source of great wealth, because the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of a Unity that is harmony not uniformity. When the Spirit of God is present there is always harmony. When we let the Spirit guide us richness, variety and diversity never become a source of conflict because the Spirit leads us to communion.

After Pentecost we never hear again about closed and locked doors, because these people are not afraid. Something new, or a change from what has always been does not frighten them or threaten them. The early church, led by the Spirit, had to work hard at unity with the diversity that the mission of Paul and others like him brought into the church, but the Spirit led that church just as it leads our church and this church in Naples to find strength in diversity, joy in hospitality, and wisdom in learning from others different from ourselves.

The events that took place in Jerusalem almost two thousand years ago are not something far removed from us; they are events which affect us and are a lived experience in each of us. Without that Spirit we tend to stay closed in ourselves, on our own group, preferring to surround ourselves with people who look like us, talk like us, and think like us. If the Apostles had given in to that kind of safety, we would not be here today. When we say: “Come Holy Spirit”, we are opening our hearts and minds to endless possibilities for the future, and countless surprises as the Will of God becomes our own will.

Our prayer in this liturgy today is the great prayer which the Church in union with Jesus lifted up the Father asks to be renewed by the Holy Spirit. We pray and sing within the harmony of the Church with every group, every movement, every culture, and every tongue; and in union with Mary, mother of the church, we cry out: “Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful, and kindle in the fire of your love! Amen.

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL

Acts 1, 1-11   Psalm 47   Ephesians 1, 17-23   Mark 16,15-20

In my sophomore year of high school, I had Brother Rosaire for Biology. In those days, the Holy Cross Brothers wore black cassocks tied around the waist with a black rope. One day brother walked in to the class room and reached both hands into the deep pockets of his cassock and lifted two live snakes. The brothers rarely had trouble with classroom discipline. The ones I had all had a way of commanding attention and respect. You did not talk to anyone in their class room unless told to do so. Let me tell you, when he pulled out those snakes no one moved and no one talked. Everything in that school was ordered by the alphabet. We sat in desks according to the alphabet. Role was called by name in every class, and an empty desk told you immediately who was missing. With my last name, I was always in the third desk nearest the windows right behind Amsted and Bachold with Cancilla, Cleary, and Coors behind me. Brother Rosaire walked toward Amsted. He put a snake on Tom’s desk and said, “Pick it up and pass it back.” I thought I was going to die until I looked at Bachold’s face as he turned and handed me the poor snake. Bachold was way past death. To this day when I read these verses of Mark’s Gospel the thought strikes me that if you have to handle snakes to be a priest, I’ll sign up for engineering. If these are the signs that accompany those who believe, I’m in trouble. I’m not all that great with languages either. Fortunately, I later learned in the seminary class on Mark’s Gospel that these verses were written long after Mark had died, and these specific “signs” were all lifted from incidents in Acts of the Apostles as proof that the followers of Christ were meeting with success in their mission.

This leaves us today sitting in this church reviewing the very last words Jesus speaks to his followers on this earth; words of instruction and commission. We have, all of us, been sitting in churches for a long time, and it strikes me that this is not what Christ asked us to do. While we proclaim the Good News in here, we are not necessarily the ones who need to hear it. What we proclaim in here to each other is a reminder, a review, and clarifying moment when we get together to get it straight and make sure we are all on target. We will leave here within the hour, and then the real proclamation begins.

As the Gospel concludes, it says: “They went forth and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the word through accompanying signs.” The signs then are important, and they guide and focus our mission. The signs continue today.

We are to cast out devils. We stand up against the force of evil that destroys life. Remember that one of the ways in which demons did their damage was by forcing people out of community, breaking their relationships with others, rendering them untouchable. A 21^st century Christian who casts out demons recognizes demons disguised as addictions that possess us not just alcohol, drugs, and sex, but shopping and buying things we do not need. There are demons of regret, resentment, and unforgiven offences. When Jesus lives in us, the hold of these demons is lessened. A sign of demons expelled is a community in which all lives becomes richer, deeper and more real.

We are to speak new tongues. We must communicate with others in a new way. In a hostile angry world of violence and oppression, we must speak kindly and gently words that bring peace and harmony. We must speak the language of love in a world that speaks a language of hate. How to do this in a multi cultural world is a challenge we can take up. Yet how to do this with people who Tweet and Blog while living to update their Facebook status never dreaming of missing the latest episode of American Idol with no interest in our Sunday morning shindig means we learn to speak new tongues. Living in Christ we must work like crazy to figure this one out always speaking kindly and joyfully.

There are many things that poison our lives, but they do not harm us. The poison of gossip is deadly and bitter. The poison of angry words and resentment can be fatal, but living in Christ is an antidote to all these poisons. We can handle snakes too – those people who might bite us with their anger and malice do no real harm.

Impressive as these signs might be, perhaps the greatest of all signs today confirming the gospel message given to us by Jesus at his ascension is simply this: that after so much failure by Christians in history, and by the Church’s leaders and members in our own day; after so many frustrations, so many betrayals, so many scandals and defeats in the struggle to fulfill Christ’s missionary command — nevertheless, after twenty centuries, so many, all over the world like us, are still here being faithful to the Word of God.

Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation, says Jesus, and these signs will accompany those who believe. One theme runs through these signs of Jesus’ life in the new community he shaped when I hear these words. They are all about healing and wholeness. They are all about the freedom that comes when your life is centered, not around yourself, but around sharing the healing power of God in Jesus Christ. They are about both individual healing and the healing of relationships: making us stronger, more whole, both in ourselves and for one another. Healing not only our own hurts, but those things that keep us isolated from a hurting world. It all begins in these pews, but it all happens in the rest of the week. If we do what Christ asks, we will need to come back next week if for no other reason than to be refreshed and encouraged again by the Christ who has not left us.

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL

Acts 10, 25-26, 34-35, 44-48 + Psalm 98 + 1 John 4, 7-10 + John 15, 9-17

 There are four words that emerge from this text that when spoken to us ought to stop us cold in our tracks and bring about the most profound change in our sense of who we are and our behavior. Yet my bet is that most of you do not know what those four words are because we have the a habit of listening to the Word of God and hearing the things Jesus says from outside as a spectator or like someone who is listening in. The consequences of taking that position in regards to the Word of God are devastating. Perhaps the condition of our world today not just with regard to violence but also with regard to the hopeless poverty that leads to so much violence comes from not knowing, believing and understanding those four words. For the Word of God to be effective, to be alive, and to have its saving effect there must be a personal relationship, and upon that relationship rests the power of the Word. When that relationship is realized, something happens, and none of us are spectators in the saving plan of God any longer.

Today we are still in that upper room, and it is still the night before Jesus Christ was betrayed, handed over, and abandoned by his so-called friends. He has spoken to them and their relationship in terms of sheep and shepherd; in terms of vine and branches. Now he speaks in terms of friendship and love inviting them to discover and share what he shares with his Father. They don’t get it yet, because they have not yet recognized their need for it. They think their friendship with Jesus is all about what he can do for them, and how he will restore the power and prestige of the Jewish people. They are impressed by the healing, the feeding, the promise, and the opportunity being his friend offers them, and so they have chosen to follow him. So they think until they see where that will lead and what it will mean. Then they are out of there! So much for their choices.

Not until they have disgraced themselves, doubted, hidden, and run will they begin to hear and understand those four words that will transform them, empower them, and make something of them other than simple ordinary fishermen, tax collectors, and sinners. He has spoken of this before, but they did not yet understand. He spoke in parables about guest invited to banquets, he found them mending nets, collecting taxes, sitting under shade trees, drawing water from wells, sitting in synagogues, and his first message to them is summed up simply in four words. He speaks in this church today to a people who are often here to get something, to ask for something, or to fulfill what is commanded by the law. He speaks to sinners, cheaters, and liars, to those too busy to give more than an hour or some extra change, and to people who have excuses galore for not conforming to the word and the life he offers. To us all he says again those four words.

I have chosen you. Proclaimed in this church within this liturgy, these are not words spoken to the twelve apostles a long time ago. They were once, but if that was all there was to it, there would be no point in repeating or remembering them. These words were not spoke to give that group some special authority. These words were spoken for all time and for all people who like those apostles gather around a table sharing bread and wine broken and given to us as the Body and Blood of Christ. These words are still spoken directly and specifically to you and to me. We are chosen, you and me. There is no time to say, “who me?” or “Later, I’m too busy.”

Being chosen is an extraordinary experience when you get right down to it. I live with the experience of being chosen by the church, by God, by men and women who have chosen to trust, listen, confess, follow, and rejoice with me. Most of you have been chosen by someone who wanted to spend their entire lives with you, and we have all been chosen by just enough people to discover the beauty of real friendship that leaves us to wonder how and with great joy find comfort in the peace it brings.

We have been chosen. Believing and understanding this changes everything about us. It means that no matter what we have done or what anyone else thinks of us, we are chosen by God and there is a purpose and something to do as a chosen people. There is peace to bring. There is forgiveness to offer. There are hungry people to feed, and lonely people to embrace. There are naked people to clothe. People imprisoned to visit. There is mercy to share, and joy besides. This truth which we proclaim today, this Word of God spoken to us gives us reason to rejoice again not just because Christ was raised from the dead, but because we who have been dead in our own self-pity and sinfulness have been chosen. It ought to feel like winning the power-ball jackpot, and we ought to look like that family many of us saw on TV last week whose horse won the Kentucky Derby. Joy and excitement ought to mark us even more because having been chosen by God has greater promise and more reward that we can ever imagine, but imagine it we should because he has called us his friends.

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL

Acts 9, 26-31   Psalm 22   1 John 3, 18-24   John 15, 1-8

 It is the night before his crucifixion when Jesus speaks these words to his disciples. To have these words speak to us we must remember context in which they were spoken. There is a mood of intensity. He senses what is to come. His death is now inevitable, and he probably knows he cannot count on these disciples to do anything about it. True to their previous ways, they probably do not quite get what is happening; but we know how they will be scattered and separated from him in the hours and days to come. He does not want this to happen. The relationship that promises life and gives hope must be preserved, because it is only in the relationship that he enjoys with the Father and shares with them that his life and his mission can be accomplished. REMAIN, he says. STAY!

To make the point, he uses the familiar image of vine, branches, and the vine grower. It is an image that carries a powerful message of dependence and mutuality. The grower needs the vine, and the vine needs the grower, and they both need the branches. There can be no fruit if these relationships are not sustained. As he prepares himself to leave the disciples, he gives them this image to sustain their hope when their hearts are troubled and they are scattered with broken dreams. It is an image of profound reliance and dependence because life is nothing without belonging, intimacy, and relationships.

Alone we can nothing. Alone we are nothing. Against this kind of independence and individuality Jesus speaks. His teaching is just as needed today as it was the night before the disciples were challenged by his death. This age in which we live and proclaim this Gospel pretends that we are more connected than ever with news, information, the internet, email, and social media opportunities at our fingertips. Yet while we are all “linked in” all over the place, rates of loneliness and depression are greater than ever. While we are all connected electronically, we are starved for the actual experience of being in a real relationship. There is a difference between being connected and being in a relationship, and this may well be what Jesus offers. Connections do not nourish life, and while they might make money, they do not bear fruit, the fruit of joy and peace, love, and life in abundance.

Jesus speaks to us about relationships, about belonging, and about remaining with one another, with him and through him with the Father. In that experience of a loving relationship, we are free: free to be ourselves, free to make mistakes, free to fail, confess our hopes and dreams, fears and disappointments. In this relationship we are accepted, loved, and forgiven by a God who loves the whole world enough to send his only Son. This knowledge and experience allows us to do the same with and be the same for each other: accepting, patient with the imperfections and flaws of others because we all have them.

This kind of life together is fruitful, because there is no fruit from a broken branch. None of us can realize our potential and become anything at all without someone else who believes in us, teaches, leads, guides, forgives, and provides for us. Bearing fruit demands dependence, and dependence requires connection and belonging. As soon as anyone thinks they can produce anything on their own, they are on a path to emptiness and despair. Their lives will be barren and empty.

Bearing fruit has everything to do with relationship. It is risky business because it reveals who you are and on whom and what you depend. It exposes a lack of self-sufficiency. It shows others that there is no other way to be but to be dependent, and in an age that seems to thrive on independence and individuality, this becomes a challenge that sets us apart. Many think it is weakness to be dependent. Many think ties should be broken, and that this is the only way to self-actualization and autonomy, but not so those who hear Jesus speak about vines and branches. Belong matters. Relationships are essential. This is what makes church, and it creates family. We who gather in this place as church are reminded once again that we are expected to bear fruit. We can do so only because we are alive and dependent upon one another. Having remained in Christ and having Christ remain in us, we are with the Father.

Remember friends, fruit bears, protects, and nurtures seeds. Fruit holds the promise of continued life without end. We are the fruit of those who have gone before us, and in as much as we do remain, stay, and abide, the seed of faith, the seed of hope, and the very seed of life will spring to life. The fruit that we bear will produce what we are. Apples produce apples. Grapes produce grapes. Faithful, Holy, Joyful and, Grateful people produce more children of God like themselves, and as they remain on the vine will build up and bring the mission of Jesus Christ and the Will of Father to fulfillment.