April 27, 2008 at Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK

Acts 17: 22-31 + Psalm 66 + 1 Peter 3: 13:22 + John 14:15-21

The point here is not: “Jesus is going to God and when they die, the disciples will go to God and be reunited to him.” The point here is: once he has died as is no longer physically present among them, he will not be gone. He will be present to them in and through the Spirit in the depth of their own beings. They are not being encouraged to hope for life after death. They are being instructed and led into a consciousness change, a serious, important, life-giving, hope giving change that will lead them to become aware of spiritual presence without physical manifestation. It that sounds goofy to you or sounds like proposing a séance, then good, because if it leads you think more deeply, question more profoundly, and desire more passionately, then you are beginning to think outside of this world; and that is a good thing. We must not be content with or settle down this world. In the larger context of this Chapter, Jesus is at prayer with the Father about taking us out of this world. This world does not think about nor conceive of the Spirit. Our difficulty is that we are “of this world”, and Jesus says that this world does not know of the reality of the Spirit.

This world is alienated from the spiritual partially because it is addicted to the sense knowledge. When the physical sights and sounds of people are not present to us, we assume, as “worldly beings,” they are gone. Jesus would have us question that assumption. That was the problem revealed in the story of Thomas the Apostle. He only wanted knowledge that came from touching. When you begin to step out of this world, you begin to understand that while death might separate us from loved ones, in another and more ultimate sense it deepens our spiritual union with them.

When we try to ponder this, our minds block because we get stuck in this world, and too much of our time, our consciousness, and our energy is spent on this world. When we stop long enough to get the bigger picture, a life time in this world is not much compared to eternity, and this is the point at which we find the disciples. They right at the turning point, the change point when they are being invited to experience the world of the Spirit instead of a brief brush with the world of the flesh (to use Paul’s language) they hesitate, and Jesus steps in to call them onward. There is a wonderful piece of wisdom in a 1998 movie: “Hope Floats”. Dumped on a TV talk show by her husband of several years, Birdee Pruitt, returned to her hometown along with her daughter Berniece. Only with difficulty did she adjust to a new life without her husband and to a life again under her mother’s roof, among friends and acquaintances in the town of Smithville, Texas. Eventually, peace and acceptance and then new love come into her life. One day after the death of her mother, she passes on a bit of wisdom she learned from her mother to her daughter, Berniece. “Momma says that beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it’s the middle that counts the most. Try to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning. Just give hope a chance to float up. And it will.

The disciples are in the middle in John 14, and so are we. This is the “hope time”, and it is sustained and realized by our ability to experience the Spirit, by our connection to or our “Communion” with a presence that is not of this world. Our breakthrough can come when we understand how this Spirit works and how this spirit is expressed and experienced. What Jesus instructs in Chapter 14 of John’s Gospel is that the Spirit, the on going and real presence of Jesus who is still with us is known when His work is continued and his mission is advanced. When we forgive one another, Jesus is here. When the hungry are fed one at a time or by the thousands, Jesus is here. When those passed by on the road of life area picked up and provided for, Jesus is here. When we do things, we never thought we could, Jesus is here. We simply need to remember these things, to believe His Word, to act on his command.

There are two unmistakable signs of the Spirit’s presence. The Spirit calls us to the Church. If any thing we do, or any choice we make leads us away from communion, leads us to interact with fewer and fewer of God’s people in worship, in learning, in sacraments then it is a bad choice and ultimately blocks the work of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit calls us to wholeness, to integrity, to Joy. To put it simply, if our lives are empty and we feel that something is missing, then something is. The life of grace is not always a life of pleasure and comfort, simply because real love is always about sacrifice. But when followed honestly and faithfully, it will feel right because it is. These are middle days for us. We are Easter People living with Hope. “It is not good for man to be alone.” says the author of Genesis. But these are good days, so we must not be alone.

April 20, 2008 at Saint Mark Church in Norma, OK

Acts 6:1-7 + Psalm 33 + 1 Peter 2:4-9 + John 14:1-12

I had an interesting experience early last week.  The person who manages my retirement account wanted to talk. I made and kept an appointment and the conversation focused on my retirement. How much I would need was the big question leading to some serious discussion about what to do with what I have saved as the present economy was calling for some review of the investment and saving plan. “When are you going to retire?” was a question asked. “How about the end of the week? was my response. By the end of the conversation that did not seem like a good plan and so we agreed on some changes in allocations, and I went to lunch. Most of us set goals along the way in our lives, and we spent a fair amount of time making plans to achieve those goals.

It strikes me that many of us spend a fair amount of time planning our future. Parents of young children think about college education and saving for it. Young people save money for buying their first big ticket item: often a car. There is something about the times in which we live that makes thinking about and planning about the future beyond the limits of life as we know it here a little bit old fashioned. The individualism that plagues our lifetime, the materialism and the need for instant gratification which marks this age, and the consumerism that drives our economy with all its uncertainties makes planning and thinking about what happens next once we have run the course of our lives here too much trouble to think about.

A serious study of this section of John’s Gospel in chapter ten brings all of this to mind today as we hear the apostles being forced to think about their future. They are uncomfortable because it is beginning to dawn on them that the future without the immediate companionship of Jesus is going to demand some changes in their lives and their way of thinking, not unlike the times in which we live. Things are going to change on this earth, in this country and in this church. How we face that is something we might learn from Thomas and Philip.

To begin with, fear is not appropriate for those who believe and have set their lives on the Gospel teachings of Jesus Christ. “Have no fear” Jesus says. “I am taking care of you.” But holding to this conviction is not an excuse for failing to plan and change. The disciples are thinking of other things and so they do not get the message. Jesus says he is leaving and going away. This disturbs the disciples. Their relationship is powerful, hopeful, and personal. They think he is going to some place, and they want to know where so they can follow. What unfolds from this discourse is that the focus of their faith and their hope and their lives is not a matter of place but of person. “Show us the way.” says Thomas. “I AM THE WAY” says Jesus.

It is easy to understand their initial confusion since he says: “I am going to prepare a place for you.” However, in the very next breath he says: “I will take you to myself.”

Jesus is the place.

He is going to the Father, he says, and that is where he will lead them and any who will come to him. Philip speaks up, perhaps because he is starting to get the point and he says: “Show us the Father.” and the response of Jesus says: “See me, see the Father.”

Two weeks away from our celebration of Pentecost, we are encouraged by the Church’s readings to think about the future, to look ahead, to plan and prepare. If we believe there is a future, then making plans for it ought to be more important than the plans for our retirement, since that future will last a lot longer. Preparing for their future meant making some big changes for Thomas, Philip, and their companions. We call that conversion, and the experience of the early church tells very plainly how that happened by the power of the Spirit. We too may face our future with the help of that same spirit Perhaps in the days to come anticipating our celebration of that Spirit’s coming we might make a prayer out of the plea of Thomas and of Phillip. “Show us the way.” “Show us the Father.”

Think of this Gospel with this story.

A very wealthy man died and went to heaven. He was met at the Pearly Gates by St Peter and led down golden streets to the residential section to claim his new home. They passed many mansions: huge, splendid, and with great green lawns in front. At the end of the street they stopped in front of a windowless shack built out of old leftover and used plywood panels. The rich man asked St Peter why he was getting this hovel when there were so many beautiful mansions, he could live in. St Peter replied, “I did the best with what you sent us.”

April 13, 2008 at Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK

Acts 2:42-47 + Psalm 23 + 1 Peter 2:19-25 + John 10:1-10

This Sunday after Easter for many years ha been called: “Vocation Sunday.” It is not difficult to understand why having heard the readings for the day, but in recent years, I have heard people struggle with this opportunity because the reality of bad shepherds is no longer a remote possibility or some bad dream. You know me well enough after five years in this pulpit to know that I am not shy about the truth, make no effort to deny reality, and enjoy a good challenge now and then. On this past Friday, a Cathedral packed with people buried a Good Shepherd, and the night before, the parish church in Enid where he served as best he could in retirement was overflowing with people who recognized what a gift they had received from a faithful and gracious servant. It was not that he did all things well, but that he did them faithfully.

On Friday of this week, I will have been ordained forty years as a priest of the Archdiocese, and even though I have chosen to celebrate that with you in early June when our lives are less hectic with graduations, confirmation, first communions, and weddings, settling the arrangements for that occasion in the past couple of weeks has given me much to remember, to celebrate, and to think about. You will be hearing more about that in a few weeks, but I cannot pass up this chance to think out loud with you about these things in the context of what we have just heard proclaimed to us by lectors and deacon.

It is the end of Peter’s great sermon on Pentecost that we proclaim today. If you’ll remember I made the comment on Easter Sunday that there is little wonder his sermon was so great that day. He did not live long enough to preach on that event for forty years! I wonder if he would have managed to get away with giving the same one forty times!  What amazes me however, is not what he said; but of course, the change that came over him in those forty days between Good Friday and Pentecost. What further amazes me is the response of the people: “Tell us what to do!” They cry out. Wow! have I ever wished that would happen around here!  Since you have not in one voice shouted: “Tell us what to do.” when I finish here each week. I’ve decided on Good Shepherd Sunday to tell you anyway!

Take Jesus Christ seriously. Stop wishing and talking about making a relationship with him first in your life. Do it now, and make it obvious. Bear witness to that relationship by how you use your gifts. If Christ is first in your life, then the first day of the week is His and there is no other place to be than in his presence among people who worship, praise, give thanks, and accept the gift of his forgiveness and his body and blood. If Christ is first in you life, your check book ought to show that. That’s nothing to be ashamed of nor is it a secret. What you have comes from God. What you give in direct proportion to what you believe. There are people who don’t like to hear that, but it’s the truth. It is a way of imitating the generosity of God. We do it with time, with our talent, and our treasure: all three, not one or the other.

Young people, if you want Jesus Christ to be first in our life, then make it so. What Jesus would do in every situation is what matters first, not what someone else will think of you, or what everyone else is doing, unless that “everyone else” happens to be your church companions. If you have not yet decided what to do with your life, why don’t you ask what God wants you to do with your life, since God gave it to you. It is not a matter of making a lot of money, of looking good, and having everything you want. It is matter of being all that you can be, not having all you can have. I do not believe that we need to pray for vocations, or ask God to call people to generous lives of service. That’s silly and thoughtless. God has never stopped calling us by name. People have stopped listening to God, and they have not taken the courage to respond to the deepest movements in their souls.

In this parish three young people have gone to the seminary in the five years I have been here. One left after giving it a real try and have two stayed. Praise God for all three of them. They had courage. Their example raises questions. There are hundreds of young single people in this parish community. Where are they? Parents, have you left them at home when you promised to bring them up in the practice of the faith? Has the truth that there have been a few bad shepherds so spoiled the thought of generous and faithful commitment that there are only three in five years out of this huge parish? Is this culture so saturated with sex that a celibate life looks lonely and impossible empty and loveless? Has materialism and consumerism so seduced our children that we are left with an overworked, aged clergy and that continual prospect of closed churches? The fact of the matter is, we are as a church struggling with sexism, the limitations our tradition places upon us, and the painful effort of considering change while remaining faithful to the Holy Spirit. In the midst of all that, I do not believe that God has gone silent. I do believe we fail to listen.

Let me tell you a story, and then you think about it and my greatest hope after forty years of service as priest is that you will ask God: “What shall we do?”

A man and his wife came home from a short trip, and they noticed a message on their answering machine. The caller ID was from Alaska. This fact didn’t excite them because it usually meant contact with the man’s long-lost brother who called himself a prospector. Differences of opinion had created a separation between the two for years. As far as the family was concerned, the “prospector” would never amount to anything and they grew tired of him chasing unrealistic dreams with their money. They listened as a stranger’s voice on the message said that the brother had died and someone from the family needed to come make arrangements. Reluctantly, the man and his wife loaded up the car and headed north. After seeing to a funeral, they went to a small, remote cabin to claim any of the brother’s valuables before they left or the goods would be quickly claimed by someone else. Arriving at the run-down shack, they looked through the cupboards and chest of drawers, and packed up a few things they decided they should take with them. As they were leaving, they met rag-tag prospector walking up to the cabin. “You folks leaving?” he asked. They told him yes. “Well, did you clean out Artie’s place?” “We took what we felt was worth taking and we’re heading back.” The old man asked if they minded if he took what was left, and they replied, “No, help yourself.” The old man ambled up to the cabin, turned around and watched the dust roll out from under the car as it headed back to civilization. He went inside, moved a table to one side, picked up a board from the floor, and collected the bags of gold his friend had been gathering for years. “Too bad they didn’t know Artie a little better,” he said to himself.