And what I say to you, I say to all: Watch
Mark 13:37, RSV
Jesus says these words to his disciples during Holy Week when people were asking him about the end of days. “About that day or hour, no one knows . . . Keep alert, for you do not know when the time will come . . . Keep awake for you do not know when the master will come.”
Jesus is letting his disciples know that nobody knows when the end will come, so live every day as if it were your last. Live every day as if Jesus were coming back today. Or, like the bumper sticker says, “Jesus is coming back soon . . . Look busy.”
This little apocalyptic episode has a long tradition of being about “the end times,” or the end of days. Not only is there a long tradition of reading this passage as looking forward to the end days, but it has also generated that kind of press in current times with books like Left Behind, rapture-ready websites, certain Evangelical preachers claiming the end is near (such as the ridiculous “blood moon” prophecies of John Hagee) or the current mini-hysteria generated by the claim that two asteroids are going to strike earth on September 22.
It's important to remember that apocalypse simply means a revealing or uncovering. And in this apocalyptic portion of Mark, Jesus is pointing out that we need to be on guard, awake and watchful for the coming of the Lord because we don't know when that day will be revealed.
But it was this last line of the gospel reading from Tuesday's Morning Prayer service that caught my attention. The version of the bible I use at MP is the Revised Standard Version. Without getting into all kinds of technical stuff, there are some key differences between the RSV and the NRSV which we use for Sunday morning worship. One of those differences is this last verse of Mark 13.
What stood out to me was that word, “Watch.” It wasn't, “Keep awake.” It wasn't, “Be on the alert!” It was, “Watch.”
Watch for the revealing of God's kingdom. Watch for the uncovering of God's kingdom. God's kingdom is upon us. The kingdom of God is at hand, but if we don't watch for it, we'll miss it. The kingdom of God is near to us, but if we aren't watching, it might pass us by.
And just what are we watching for? Watch for opportunities to love your neighbor, and then do so. Watch for opportunities to proclaim justice, and do so. Watch for opportunities to extend mercy, and do so. Watch for opportunities to treat people with dignity and respect, and do so. Watch for the beauty of the Lord in all things and marvel at his wondrous works.
The kingdom of God is near to you – Watch.
Amen.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
August 19, 2015
Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.
John 6:56
For the last several weeks the gospel lessons have focused on the bread of life discourse. As I was reading through Chapter 6 again, this passage caught my attention. What does it mean to abide in? What does it mean for us to abide in Jesus? What does it mean for Jesus to abide in us?
I think we all probably have a basic understanding of what that word, abide, means. Dictionary definitions include: to remain; to continue in a particular condition; to endure; to wait for; to act in accord with; to remain steadfast or faithful. Even though we all probably have a basic understanding of what abide means, I think it is helpful to be able to actually see those definitions or synonyms, as they can help to give us a broader understanding.
As we go through our life and experience the many changes and chances it brings, from schoolyard friendships to any number of jobs held to our spouse and children, we learn that life is fluid. Friendships and jobs can come and go. Very few of us never leave the city or town in which we were born. Some of us have experienced multiple marriages. Even for those who have been married only once, that marriage is not the same today as it was when we were first married. Through all of those many changes and chances of our lives though, we remain in Jesus and he remains in us.
As we go through our lives we learn that nothing lasts forever. Friendships bloom and grow and fade away. We change jobs or careers. We relocate, sometimes across the country and sometimes across town. It's often cynically said that the only thing that lasts forever are death and taxes. But as we've gone through the bread of life series these past several weeks, we are told that Jesus offers us eternal life. In all of our uncertainties and changes, Jesus endures. In that endurance, Jesus abides with us.
As we go through our lives we can experience disloyal, unreliable and untrustworthy situations. Whether that is from a child who says, “No, not me . . . I didn't break the window,” or from an employer who promised no layoffs, or politicians who make promises they knowingly can't keep, there are times in our lives that don't deliver as promised. But Jesus is steadfast and faithful and remains with us to the end. In his faithfulness, Jesus abides in us.
There are many changes and chances that we experience in our lives. There are times that don't live up to our expectations. There are times when we don't live up to the expectations of others, let alone ourselves. But one thing is certain and that is that this church will continue to offer a foretaste of the heavenly banquet. We will continue to offer a glimpse of things to come. We will continue to offer the body and blood of Jesus Christ, which is holy food for holy people.
And in that holy act of receiving Holy Communion, in that holy act of partaking of the body and blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, we can be assured that Jesus is faithful, that Jesus endures and that Jesus remains. In that act of receiving Holy Communion, we abide in Jesus and he in us.
Amen.
John 6:56
For the last several weeks the gospel lessons have focused on the bread of life discourse. As I was reading through Chapter 6 again, this passage caught my attention. What does it mean to abide in? What does it mean for us to abide in Jesus? What does it mean for Jesus to abide in us?
I think we all probably have a basic understanding of what that word, abide, means. Dictionary definitions include: to remain; to continue in a particular condition; to endure; to wait for; to act in accord with; to remain steadfast or faithful. Even though we all probably have a basic understanding of what abide means, I think it is helpful to be able to actually see those definitions or synonyms, as they can help to give us a broader understanding.
As we go through our life and experience the many changes and chances it brings, from schoolyard friendships to any number of jobs held to our spouse and children, we learn that life is fluid. Friendships and jobs can come and go. Very few of us never leave the city or town in which we were born. Some of us have experienced multiple marriages. Even for those who have been married only once, that marriage is not the same today as it was when we were first married. Through all of those many changes and chances of our lives though, we remain in Jesus and he remains in us.
As we go through our lives we learn that nothing lasts forever. Friendships bloom and grow and fade away. We change jobs or careers. We relocate, sometimes across the country and sometimes across town. It's often cynically said that the only thing that lasts forever are death and taxes. But as we've gone through the bread of life series these past several weeks, we are told that Jesus offers us eternal life. In all of our uncertainties and changes, Jesus endures. In that endurance, Jesus abides with us.
As we go through our lives we can experience disloyal, unreliable and untrustworthy situations. Whether that is from a child who says, “No, not me . . . I didn't break the window,” or from an employer who promised no layoffs, or politicians who make promises they knowingly can't keep, there are times in our lives that don't deliver as promised. But Jesus is steadfast and faithful and remains with us to the end. In his faithfulness, Jesus abides in us.
There are many changes and chances that we experience in our lives. There are times that don't live up to our expectations. There are times when we don't live up to the expectations of others, let alone ourselves. But one thing is certain and that is that this church will continue to offer a foretaste of the heavenly banquet. We will continue to offer a glimpse of things to come. We will continue to offer the body and blood of Jesus Christ, which is holy food for holy people.
And in that holy act of receiving Holy Communion, in that holy act of partaking of the body and blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, we can be assured that Jesus is faithful, that Jesus endures and that Jesus remains. In that act of receiving Holy Communion, we abide in Jesus and he in us.
Amen.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
August 12, 2015
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
John 1:5
Depending on the day or the schedule, my alarm normally goes off at 5:16 a.m. I have it set at that time because, basically, that's when my wife and I need to roll out of bed in order for the two of us to get up, get moving and get out the door before 6:55 (her) and by 7:05 (me).
I am one of those lucky few (or abnormal few, if you talk to my wife and daughter) who wake up with the first glimmering rays of morning sunshine, bright and cheerful, and without the need of coffee. I often wake up with either The Beatles' Good Morning, Good Morning or Dear Prudence running through my head, as they are both good morning songs.
The problem with all of the above, though, is that I wake up with the morning sun. That means that during the winter months I revert to what my wife would call “a normal person,” because the sun doesn't appear until 7 or later, and I am not so chipper when having to get out of bed in the dark. I still don't require coffee to get moving, but I do move slower and morning songs are not generally running through my head.
If you haven't noticed, we are on the downward slide. Sunrise here in GP doesn't occur now until well after 6 a.m. That means that, from the time my alarm goes off, I am spending one full hour in the dark. For some, this time of darkness is an inconvenience, a time when alarm clocks become necessary. For others, this time of year begins the downward spiral of seasonal depression or sense of malaise generated by spending more time in the dark.
No matter how long it takes for the sun to rise, whether it happens at 5:13 a.m. or 7:27 a.m., the sun does rise. Every day the earth spins on its axis and causes some place that was dark to move into the light. Every year the earth revolves around the sun in such a way as to provide more light in the summer and less light in the winter. But regardless of whether it is December 21 or June 21, the sun will shine on us at some point in the day.
That's the thing about the dark . . . it doesn't last forever and even the smallest amount of light breaks through to help keep us from stumbling. Oh, we may not have the clear vision that full sunlight provides; but when there is even a little light we are more confident that we won't be cracking any of our toes into pieces of furniture.
Like the sun is the physical center of our solar system, providing light and sustenance for us who orbit around it, Jesus is the spiritual center of our religious solar system, providing light and sustenance for us drawn into his orbit. That's not to say that every day is sunny and bright. It's not to say that every morning we wake up with cheerful Beatles songs running through our heads. Some days we do. Some days it takes us longer to see the light shining than other days. And some days, because of where we are in our orbit, it can seem like there is hardly any light at all.
The dark won't last. The dark can't last. Even the smallest amount of light will break through. So as we begin the downward slide to less light and more darkness of the fall and winter, know that the sun will rise; and remember that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it.
Amen.
John 1:5
Depending on the day or the schedule, my alarm normally goes off at 5:16 a.m. I have it set at that time because, basically, that's when my wife and I need to roll out of bed in order for the two of us to get up, get moving and get out the door before 6:55 (her) and by 7:05 (me).
I am one of those lucky few (or abnormal few, if you talk to my wife and daughter) who wake up with the first glimmering rays of morning sunshine, bright and cheerful, and without the need of coffee. I often wake up with either The Beatles' Good Morning, Good Morning or Dear Prudence running through my head, as they are both good morning songs.
The problem with all of the above, though, is that I wake up with the morning sun. That means that during the winter months I revert to what my wife would call “a normal person,” because the sun doesn't appear until 7 or later, and I am not so chipper when having to get out of bed in the dark. I still don't require coffee to get moving, but I do move slower and morning songs are not generally running through my head.
If you haven't noticed, we are on the downward slide. Sunrise here in GP doesn't occur now until well after 6 a.m. That means that, from the time my alarm goes off, I am spending one full hour in the dark. For some, this time of darkness is an inconvenience, a time when alarm clocks become necessary. For others, this time of year begins the downward spiral of seasonal depression or sense of malaise generated by spending more time in the dark.
No matter how long it takes for the sun to rise, whether it happens at 5:13 a.m. or 7:27 a.m., the sun does rise. Every day the earth spins on its axis and causes some place that was dark to move into the light. Every year the earth revolves around the sun in such a way as to provide more light in the summer and less light in the winter. But regardless of whether it is December 21 or June 21, the sun will shine on us at some point in the day.
That's the thing about the dark . . . it doesn't last forever and even the smallest amount of light breaks through to help keep us from stumbling. Oh, we may not have the clear vision that full sunlight provides; but when there is even a little light we are more confident that we won't be cracking any of our toes into pieces of furniture.
Like the sun is the physical center of our solar system, providing light and sustenance for us who orbit around it, Jesus is the spiritual center of our religious solar system, providing light and sustenance for us drawn into his orbit. That's not to say that every day is sunny and bright. It's not to say that every morning we wake up with cheerful Beatles songs running through our heads. Some days we do. Some days it takes us longer to see the light shining than other days. And some days, because of where we are in our orbit, it can seem like there is hardly any light at all.
The dark won't last. The dark can't last. Even the smallest amount of light will break through. So as we begin the downward slide to less light and more darkness of the fall and winter, know that the sun will rise; and remember that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it.
Amen.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
August 5, 2015
The choir's away and
the rest of us suddenly
have lost our voices
Episcopal Haiku
I have a little book of Episcopal Haiku on my bookshelf that originally belonged to Joan Collins. Everyone once in awhile I will glance through it just to see if there's anything in there that grabs my attention. I'm really not much of a haiku kind of guy, but you never know what might spark your imagination.
Summer is winding down. Autumn is not yet within reach. These are what people refer to as the dog days of summer. They seem to slowly creep by as parents eagerly wait for school to start, children try to milk every last day of freedom they can, and all of us look forward for the temperature to begin dropping.
There can be a sense that summer has no schedule, that it just floats along. There can be a yearning to get back to the regularity of a schedule; not only for sanity's sake, but because it lets us know what to expect. And if there's one thing I know about Episcopalians, it's that we like to know what to expect on Sundays.
The bulletin from this past Sunday indicated that choir practice would start up again today, August 5. I think that was the original plan, but Michele is in the middle of a house move, and several choir members are busy doing summer vacation-type things. So the choir will reconvene on Wednesday, September 9, or so I'm told (check with the office to be sure).
We have done a commendable job with our music during the summer. Deacon Joani has stepped up and taken on the task and challenge of playing the organ. And when she was off gallivanting around Spain, Edla filled in.
This past year Michele Kyle has, I think, done an excellent job with the choir. Everything from organization to choosing new music and directing, she has been a great asset for St. Luke's. Those in the choir have performed well and have helped to lead the congregation in various musical offerings.
But with summer also comes vacations, guests, a variety of other commitments and maybe even a house move. So the choir took a few well-deserved months off. While they were doing everything from floating the river to touring Spain to sitting with the rest of the congregation on Sundays, we were all busy making a joyful noise. And as I ponder the joyful noise we made together this past summer, and look forward to the choir's return in September, I offer you my own feeble Haiku:
Autumn now draws near
Angelic voices soon heard;
Hymns are sung with glee
Amen.
the rest of us suddenly
have lost our voices
Episcopal Haiku
I have a little book of Episcopal Haiku on my bookshelf that originally belonged to Joan Collins. Everyone once in awhile I will glance through it just to see if there's anything in there that grabs my attention. I'm really not much of a haiku kind of guy, but you never know what might spark your imagination.
Summer is winding down. Autumn is not yet within reach. These are what people refer to as the dog days of summer. They seem to slowly creep by as parents eagerly wait for school to start, children try to milk every last day of freedom they can, and all of us look forward for the temperature to begin dropping.
There can be a sense that summer has no schedule, that it just floats along. There can be a yearning to get back to the regularity of a schedule; not only for sanity's sake, but because it lets us know what to expect. And if there's one thing I know about Episcopalians, it's that we like to know what to expect on Sundays.
The bulletin from this past Sunday indicated that choir practice would start up again today, August 5. I think that was the original plan, but Michele is in the middle of a house move, and several choir members are busy doing summer vacation-type things. So the choir will reconvene on Wednesday, September 9, or so I'm told (check with the office to be sure).
We have done a commendable job with our music during the summer. Deacon Joani has stepped up and taken on the task and challenge of playing the organ. And when she was off gallivanting around Spain, Edla filled in.
This past year Michele Kyle has, I think, done an excellent job with the choir. Everything from organization to choosing new music and directing, she has been a great asset for St. Luke's. Those in the choir have performed well and have helped to lead the congregation in various musical offerings.
But with summer also comes vacations, guests, a variety of other commitments and maybe even a house move. So the choir took a few well-deserved months off. While they were doing everything from floating the river to touring Spain to sitting with the rest of the congregation on Sundays, we were all busy making a joyful noise. And as I ponder the joyful noise we made together this past summer, and look forward to the choir's return in September, I offer you my own feeble Haiku:
Autumn now draws near
Angelic voices soon heard;
Hymns are sung with glee
Amen.
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