Children eight through eighteen, who enjoy singing, are invited to join Voices for Life, a two-tiered music performance and education program that emphasizes the development of musical skills and understanding through choral singing. No previous choral or musical experience required. An informational meeting for interested parents will be held on Monday, August 30, 5:30PM at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, 914 E. Knapp, Milwaukee.  The church is the program sponsor and the Music Ministry Director Timothy Benson directs the program. Benson is also the Assistant Conductor of the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra Chorus. Information 414-276-6277, stpmke@spbcglobal.net  or visit the church website stpaulsmilwuakee.org.

Initially Jesus’ words might bring some comfort – “Don’t have fear, little flock.” Not fear – you’re asleep if you don’t have fear. We have a rising national debt, unemployment, house foreclosures. Retirements and pensions circle the drain, not to mention terrorists, wars and oil spills. “Don’t fear. God’s good pleasure is to give us the kingdom.” Great – who turns down a free gift? But can we trust it even exists?

Jesus takes a sharp turn south quickly. The kingdom is free – but there sounds like we have to pay for admission: “Sell your possessions. Give alms. Make sure your heart is set on treasure that lasts, safe from theft or destruction. Invest in heaven, not here on earth.” That’s the last thing we want to hear – divest ourselves of possessions and resources? So God’s pleasure to give – meets our resistance to relinquish what we have achieved, strive so hard for – give it up for a kingdom we can’t see, and a God we can only hope is somewhere.

God’s grace is free for the taking offered to all. Yet even a free gift needs to be accepted. We need to do something with it. Unused gifts are like museum pieces – nice to look at, valuable, but set on a shelf, and well – just unusable.

Some years ago, an ad caught my attention. I could buy an ab machine that would reshape my mid-section keg into a six-pack. It seemed to work for the guy pictured on the box. I bought one, brought it home, and over the course of 6 months or so, I wasn’t down to even a 12-pack.  A friend who came over looked at my machine. “It doesn’t work. It’s a waste.” “How often do you use it?” He noticed it sat in a corner looking more like a clothes rack than an exercise machine. “I tried it a couple of times.” “You have to keep at it,” he said. Have you ever thought the intent is equal to the effort? Okay, I’ll admit to being too lazy and uncommitted. I am a “Gain with no pain” guy.

God’s pleasure and nature are to give. Some people expect that and take God’s gifts for granted. That’s why God’s in business. Faith says the good news is that we already live in God’s reign – potentially. God is delighted when we get it, take it, enter it, and allow His love to transform and reorient our direction in this world. Yet some Christians say you have to earn God’s approval. Nothing’s free, especially salvation. They work hard, believe certain things even if they really don’t, too scared to say otherwise for fear they’ll not get taken to heaven one day. They join a church, stop cussing, don’t beat the dog, carry a Bible, and give a poor person a sandwich. They are good people, strive hard. Yet they miss that God has already given what they can’t believe and accept as free. We do like to receive something that’s free, don’t we?

Jesus says to us, “Little flock folk, relax. Relinquish what possesses you – what makes you anxious and afraid.” That’s really what getting so caught up in stuff that can be taken from us, or we lose – means. So if we sell our stuff, give the money away, we’ll be happy and secure? Not exactly – we do have to live in this world. Little flock members live with one foot in a reign God will finally bring, and the other foot rests in this world. In our better, less fearful moments we know our security is in God’s gift, not our attained by our achievement. Letting go so we can receive God’s stuff, frees us to live lightly, secured in and trusting God for the long term – forever. That sounds crazy to stake ourselves on faith in something we cannot prove or see. We’ve been taught to hold onto, earn, save for that rainy day or flooded basement – we can hold our savings account books. Yet faith also reminds us one day – life runs out. We know we can’t take all we acquire, accomplish and struggle to get. You will though, take something with you. The question is will what you have set your heart on possessing be able to go with you? Our treasure reflects where we’ve given our hearts. God’s treasure is in giving, investing love and grace in people like us, all of us.

We’re a little flock, beloved of the Father, in relationship with a master we don’t see. The master will return we know not when. So we can be like the mice at play when the cat’s gone – if we choose. But if we are prepared and ready, listening and waiting, we’ll welcome a knock that comes on the door. We know the loving nature of the One on whom we wait. Like the writer of Hebrews says – saints have kept their eye on a promise they trusted, but wouldn’t necessarily realize on the earthly part of our journeys. So some will be caught flat-footed, stunned, having no idea who knocks – or even believes there’s a master who comes, and some will believe that’s he’s mean, unpredictable and to be feared. What does the master you expect look like? Listen carefully – grab this picture. The master comes in to find us ready and prepared. Immediately he takes us to a large banquet hall and says, “Sit down.” He pulls out china saved for guests, dons an apron, starts the stove, and whips up a feast, a heavenly banquet. Is Jesus kidding – masters don’t do this – unheard of. We wait on the master. And this one is way over the top – delightfully so. Enjoy this story. Let it help you let go of any old ways of clutching to stuff that doesn’t last so you can have room to receive what God gives, what lasts, a kingdom of everlasting life. We are secured in God, not by our stuff. And God so loves us to full capacity, a love that will never run out or be removed. When you get it, – welcome home! Have no fear, little flock. God’s pleasure is to give the kingdom.

Help me with this. You get it. Sunday after Sunday you show up for a banquet tasting – bread and wine – receiving the God who gives freely and nourishes our lives in love. Why do people out there not get it? What can we do to help them realize the love already God has for them? What I will regret is when all is said and done, they’ll realize life could have been so different. They’re starving, and don’t even know it. How do we help others take God up on the offer, seriously? Maybe they’ll glimpse in us. They’ll see a lasting treasure has taken hold of our hearts. In so doing, we become a little flock of God’s delight, we live freely, forgive others, love others unconditionally, without fear – just as Jesus prescribes. Let’s just keep at it – keeping our eyes on the long view, God’s reign.

Who let this guy in? Is he not following the lecture? Jesus has just warned followers: “Speak out for me and you could get hauled before rulers and authorities, not to give you an award.” Where is his follow-up statement coming from? He must have only heard, “Speak out.” He does, but it’s on a topic near to his heart and far from Jesus’ intention, “Tell my brother to cough up my portion of the family inheritance.” Jesus won’t step in. He’s not going to put the “fun” back into his dysfunctional family by taking sides.

Jewish law says that an elder brother gets two-thirds of the inheritance and a younger gets a third. If this guy’s right, he is getting ripped off and has a point. Jesus isn’t going to find out. If you’ve ever stepped into the middle of a family squabble to mediate peace you’re lucky to have survived and be here.

Instead, Jesus pulls up another lecture: “Be on guard against all kinds of greed.” Greed comes in a variety of colors and forms – not just money. We can become greedy for fame, praise, power, designer shoes, and Coach Hand Bags. We convince ourselves we have to have it. We get it. Then what? Do we live happily ever after? “The one with the most toys wins,” does not get God’s “You’ve lived a great life” award. Greed leads us down a selfish, deathly road. It grips us relentlessly, and we don’t even notice. On the surface you may appear to be alive since you’re still breathing. Inside you’re choking to death, clutching tightly to what’s yours and wanting more, thinking that will make you happy. But all this fellow wants is for Jesus to talk with his brother. Are we really greedy for asking what is due us?

Jesus then tells a story we know well – especially good for the church stewardship drive: “Don’t be a fool. Be rich toward God. Turn in a pledge card, before it’s too late.” I hope you will support the church but not out of fear and guilt. Besides, Jesus’ point is greed, not giving it up for the church – that’s later.

A nameless rich guy with an abundantly productive farm scores a huge harvest. He dances all the way to the contractor’s office to arrange for bigger barns to be built. Notice that he’s the only one who talks in the story, and he only talks to himself. He must think well of himself. He keeps saying, “I”, “My” and “Me.” His world is small. He even tells his soul how lucky it is to belong to him. He and his soul will be set for years, just relax, knock back a few cold ones, and party on. He is the poster child for greed. Greedy people rarely see beyond themselves, listen to or play well with others. Suddenly a voice interrupts the exclusive conversation. God shows up, “You fool; tonight I’ve planned a little reality check. See you then. By the way, who would you like to own your new barns – since you won’t need them now?”

What’s so bad about enjoying what’s yours – planning for an uncertain future? Should we empty our freezers; unstock our pantries; get rid of our retirement accounts? Not at all –otherwise someone else gets stuck with taking care of us, and that’s also foolish. It’s perspective and balance. We live now in light of a coming future of God’s reign. We align ourselves with that reign because we follow Jesus. We’ve been around the church enough to know we are not in control of the future – or even now. Getting stuff and more stuff does not secure a happy present or future. Greed distracts us. Fear shuts us down. We become so self-absorbed we fail to hear that God’s been throwing a celebration of life, a party – and all are invited. Sadly, the greedy can’t love God, themselves, or anyone else.

“You fool, tonight I’m reeling you in.” Is Jesus saying God punishes us and threatens the greedy? No, though these words may sound this way. Think of a huge reality check. Our lives on earth end one day. Some people are so distracted they forget that. If you have ears to hear, invest in what lasts, eternally. You can’t take your barns with you. Some may not buy this – but what secures us is God’s offer of enduring love and life freely given us.  We are secure in God’s presence now and later. Besides, God is fearsomely generous towards us. God loves so generously to let us be foolish to choose lesser gods, like self and stuff, until we finally figure out what really matters and align ourselves with God’s reign of life and love.

A theology scholar only had time for himself – books to write, research for articles, world-wide lectures to give. He crammed his life with really important things he treasured. One day he had a stroke, leaving him curled up, dependent on tubes and nurses, helplessly stuck between life and death in a hospital bed. It was hard to tell what his wife meant when she put copies of his books, articles and papers on his bedside table. Were they a shrine to his accomplishments – or a statement that’s the sum of his life — all he did?[i]

Again, God’s fearsome generosity allows us to be as foolish as we want. Neither people, nor affection, power, nor stuff – what’s outside us – can fill that divine inward space where God longs to carry and secure us. Focused outside that sacred space we desperately cry for more. And maybe we begin to move gradually to inner cries for the grace to be held, loved and carried by God. We don’t do that alone. We need a community that loves us and incarnates God’s love and life with us. We hope that’s the church. We need to point others beyond self – live responsibly – and keep our focus on God’s unconditional love.

Today Sara and Jason bring their baby son Brady to be baptized. Brady will be told stories about his day. He’ll be told that you and I we have promised to stand with his parents and godparents to support him and help him remember his life in Christ. He’ll grow to learn what we possess isn’t nearly as important as knowing the One who possesses us. We’ll help Brady know that he’s God’s, and we were here with him when God that day God’s Spirit sealed him forever, naming him “Beloved.” That’s what peculiar people, we Jesus followers, do for each other – hold each other, help each other be open, receptive, and growing in love for the God who seals us by the Holy Spirit in baptism, and marks us as Christ’s own forever.

We live lightly, freely, joyfully, and burdened with the right things. I think that’s what it means for us all to be rich toward God.

Sermon
The Rev. Dr. C. Steven Teague, Rector
Ninth Sunday after Pentecost

How did you learn to pray? Did someone teach you? After the early service today, a priest visiting with us told me he “caught” how to pray by watching and overhearing both of his grandmothers, grateful they embraced him into their prayer times.

Prayer can be as simple as a, “Wow!” mindlessly uttered in awe of a sunset, seeing sunlight shimmering on lake waters, the mystery of a flower’s growth, a quiet snowfall. Even an agnostic or atheist will sometimes blurt out, “Lord, help me,” not realizing that’s a prayer. One afternoon, clouds shrouded a mountain. Quickly they disappeared to reveal snow-filled peaks glistening in the sun. I was filled with awe – looking through a sacred window of sheer beauty and mystery to glimpse God’s presence and glory.

I learned more formal prayer from my dad. In the evenings we had family devotions. We took turns praying. My simple prayer always sounded a lot like my Dad’s, because I listened to his prayer as my model. Some learn to pray because at your parent’s table grace was said before each meal. Maybe when you attended as a child, you watched people pray. Some seemed interested and involved in prayer. Others looked bored. People prayed often and long, so it must be important. Do you ever long for a deeper connection with the divine? Prayer is one way we can do that.

One morning Jesus’ disciples overhear John’s disciples talking over coffee at Jerusalem Starbuck’s, praising John’s recent prayer workshop for them. “Why hasn’t Jesus taught us?” his disciples ask each other, as they sip cappuccinos and lattes. Remember John was a simple, plain wilderness guy, and Jesus liked parties and good times.

They return to “a certain place,” to find Jesus praying. Waiting patiently until he finishes, they ask “Lord, teach us to pray, like John taught his disciples.” Why would they need lessons? – As Jews they pray at least three times a day. Listening to Jesus’ prayers, they notice something in theirs must be missing. He prays alone, often, and not from a prayer book. Hence, we have been given what is called “The Lord’s Prayer.”

In an Episcopal Church, we say the Lord’s Prayer every time we worship – it’s that important to us. Many memorize it by saying it so often. That’s good, but that also can be a problem. The prayer becomes so familiar, we mindlessly rip through it, without taking time to listen, savor and absorb what we pray.

People may not know a lot about Christianity, but most are familiar enough with the words of the Lord’s Prayer to recognize it, and mumble along. The content of this prayer is vital to our understanding of God’s nature and will, and ours. Jesus teaches: address God, “Our Father” not “My Father.” We don’t pray alone. We are in God’s presence as we say, “Our Father, here with everyone – even praying for those who don’t pray. “Our” includes our enemies, those who bore and annoy us, and those we can’t stand. That’s who gets in on our prayers. Why? Prayer begins not with us, but with all God’s children in mind, their needs and the needs of the world. God opens arms for all to have an intimate relationship with Him. And that relationship is one of love, pulling back the veil hiding the Almighty, so we can know the One we address is even better than a loving parent, Abba, Father of all, not just some. No one need fear such a loving parent. Take God seriously, yes – fear and tremble, no. We draw into our awareness who God is before we start chattering about our needs. Prayer, as one writer says, “bends our wants toward what God wants.”[1] Prayer is transformational, rather than a wish list we put into God.

We do ask God to meet certain needs. Jesus gives priorities that bend us toward God. Ask for the heavenly reign to come more fully into our thoughts and actions, making us part of the divine reign coming among us. Think about what that would look like for you, for us at St. Paul’s – how different our world would be; how we might live differently. We naturally won’t will that – so we ask God to help us bend our wills in His direction so we can embody heaven among us.

That intimate indwelling of God in us is the daily bread for which we ask. We need more than pan pizza or American Idol to nourish us through this life. We need sins forgiven, so we can become forgiving to all, even if those we forgive never ask, believe they need it, or turn their backs if we offer. So when you offer love or forgiveness you could meet rejection – happened for Jesus. Ask God to save you from the temptation to become bitter, angry, or give up. Remember that God faithfully holds us all in hope and love. Bending toward God’s will, we love ask to love all regardless. In so doing, our inward state will begin to match the prayer we pray. God makes us a new creation.

For God’s sake, don’t test the good Lord to see if your prayers get answered. Be as persistent as one who knocks on a friend’s door at night, asking for bread because a late night guest has just arrived. Keep knocking, believing God does answer. A human will give you bread to stop the noise and get you to go away. God waits up all night for us, to give us what we need, not necessarily what we want and ask. Don’t think prayer works because we get something we ask for. When we don’t, prayer still is working. Our heavenly parent knows what is good for us. Keep after God, believing and trusting God has your ultimate best interest in mind. You can be disappointed, but also be open to look for what God gives. Listen – listen deeply and trust that one day you’ll understand why sometimes we get the divine cold shoulder, or a disappointing, “No.” Trust our Abba. All is well and is being made well – we might not see how yet.

In some ways prayer is so natural, we don’t need to be taught. In other ways, in a world that teaches us our work or social status defines us, all we need to buy to feel better about ourselves, and what is of value, prayer is so unnatural. However you approach prayer – just do it, whether it’s the Lord’s Prayer, a blessing at the meal, or a childhood memorized prayer. Prayer is our lifeline to God’s love and life. Persistently picture the One to whom you speak, holding you in a gaze of divine love. My friends, that deeper connection happens as we gaze back at such a look of love.

Sermon
The Rev. Dr. C. Steven Teague, Rector
Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

I have just finished the “what can you do for us” inquisition session with the Vestry interviewing me for Rector. Next comes a Eucharist, including a sermon. I walk into the church, to see one of the Vestry members preparing the vessels for Eucharist. She lets me know she’s also the self-anointed Altar Guild dictator, and I needn’t forget it.

I walk toward the altar. She greets me sharply, “Well, I see you are using that Mary and Martha story from last Sunday. I despise that story. I am a Martha, and I get sick and tired of all the Mary’s who just sit around yapping, but don’t lift a hand to help. We’d be better off without them, and I don’t know why Jesus didn’t say so.” Since she’s larger than I am, if I’d had a piece of raw meat, I would have thrown it at her and run. Instead I use my best “emotionless pastoral voice,” and calmly respond: “You’ve thought a lot about this.” She continues to bust the Mary’s of the world. At least the parish paid my expenses for the trip – and I could go home the next day.

This woman is not alone. Christians divide into Mary and Martha camps, thinking Jesus prefers contemplative Mary’s to the driven, frenetic Martha’s of this world. Martha’s generally don’t care for Mary’s. Jesus’ comment to Martha doesn’t help close the separation. Here’s a possible reason.

Jesus and about a hundred followers are coming up the driveway, unannounced. Martha panics and rushes to the kitchen and starts banging pots and pans. Her sister is missing in action. Mary’s in the den, sitting at Jesus’ feet hanging onto his every word. Martha’s disgusted and enlists Jesus’ support to get Mary up and into the kitchen to help her. You know how someone in the Martha mode is – life’s unfair. One works, and one sits. “Do you think you could get out of that chair and help me? I worked all day, too. I can’t fix dinner keep the kids out of trouble, and get a hot meal on the table. Can’t you see I need help?” You have a deadline to meet, and get handed a new project on Friday afternoon, and no one offers to help. Yes, you’ll be a bit cranky.

Martha’s a whirling dervish of activity, panic and irritated at Jesus, especially when he says in front of all those people, “Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things. Worry about one thing – what Mary’s found. Lighten up, girl.” No one likes to be called out. Not be distracted, worried? Are you kidding? Martha’s can’t slow down – too much to be done. Besides, no one notices or cares about all that Martha’s have to do – and if they don’t do it, it won’t get done. Jesus invites her to reconsider, and assess what is essential and eternal.

Do you ever get distracted? I do. When I feel I have more to do than I can handle, and I get anxious and irritable, if I’m aware of what’s in my head and heart, I realize I have moved farther from God – distracted by many things, forgetting the better part so I can be present to you, others, the world. Are you aware of any thoughts you’re carrying here today that take you from God? What’s going on in your mind, even now? Do we listen for the movement and voice of God among us? Jesus is not rebuking Martha. He calls her and us first, into the better part – into an intimate relationship of love with the Father, to center and calm ourselves for the life and work at hand. Filled with peace and divine love, then we can get up and go serve, inwardly transformed and outwardly present bearing God’s peace and love for others.

How is Martha to offer hospitality to Messiah? Prepare a nice meal, or let the meal go and be attentive to what he gives? What does a church that is hospitable to Jesus look like? Are we one? Like Martha, churches can become distracted by many things and lose their way. They’re more concerned with themselves and what they like, than with listening to and being present for others outside their sphere. To outsiders we can seem more like an exclusive club rather than a movement of God’s love to all. Why are you here? I hope we are here to center ourselves before Jesus, read scripture together, receive the sacrament and rest in God’s unconditional love, staying long enough to experience your belovedness. Do we leave filled anew with God’s love and life to take into ordinary tasks – like preparing a meal, offering a simple smile to a stranger, seeing where we are needed and going there?

Churches also become distracted by many things. Some look successful on the surface. A pastor of a 12,000 member church, Disney designed campus with coffee shops, stores, and boutiques called time out. His people are happy, but he couldn’t sleep at night. He realized how self-focused this church had become, oblivious to social problems, crime, teen pregnancies and broken homes in the city. He wondered who would miss the church if it folded and disappeared. He suspected some weren’t there to be in relationship with God. They came to have their souls soothed, learn how to have a better life, find religious goods and services. When he called them to maturity, over a third left.[i] We must be clear – and not distracted by many things. Researchers say outsiders can sniff out whether a church cares for them, or whether they feel like all they are is a statistic. The closer we live to Jesus, the more we will fulfill God’s mission through us. The farther we are from God, the more distracted we grow – and lose what’s essential.

Not either/or, but both/and – we need both Mary and Martha. I encourage us to attend to God daily and personally. Then renewed and bathed in God’s unconditional love, we’re ready to be present to others, centered in the “the good, better part.” We are prepared to offer God’s hospitality – to those who come in here and to those God sends across our path in the world. Step back for a moment and think about the connection – listening and doing. Thanks Mary, and thanks Martha.

He already knows the answer to his question. Jesus also knows this man knows the answer. After all, he’s a lawyer, but not like an attorney – you know, that “One call, that’s all” attorney guy. He practices Moses’ Law. He’s come to test Jesus. “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life,” he smugly asks. “You’re a lawyer. What do you read?” “Love God and love your neighbors as ourselves,” he answers.  “You got it,” says Jesus. “Now do this and you will live.”

“Not yet, Jesus,” he replies, “Tell me, just who is my neighbor?” Factions of Jewish scholars endlessly debate, “Who qualifies as a neighbor.” Many believe, “My neighbors are like me – look like, talk like me, think like me, are related to me, members of my club, and worship like me.” The Pharisee says neighbors are those that keep the law as they prescribe. And one tiny faction believes neighbors they can have love and have mercy for are only members of their church, no more qualify for compassion and aid.

“Pull up a chair,” says Jesus. We know the story of the Good Samaritan, one of the most well-known stories of Christendom. If you say a person is a Good Samaritan in today’s world, most will know what you mean. A Good Samaritan helps someone in need. If you let a friend with hangnail borrow your nail clippers, you give someone who’s run out of gas a ride, or buy a homeless guy a sandwich – you likely are considered to be a Good Samaritan. In his story, Jesus broadens the scope of compassion.

I imagine we’d choose to identify with the Samaritan, rather than the two clergy who pass by the Jew beaten and left for dead. They may have had their reasons. All we know is that they do nothing for one of their own, even though they know what the law commands. To hear Jesus even speak the word, “Samaritan” would boil your blood. But Jesus doesn’t stop there. He says the Samaritan is a hero. That’s a real punch in the face. A Samaritan is the enemy. He’s arrogant, says he knows God, but doesn’t worship right. Since a Samaritan is religiously unclean, God won’t have anything to do with him. Yet when this hated degenerate sees the bloodied, assaulted Jew, he wells up with compassion for the man. Past prejudices mean nothing. He gives First Aid, takes the man to an inn, pays for his stay and any expenses he will incur. He’s not acting like a Samaritan the lawyer or his friends know. If a Samaritan stumbles upon a wounded Jew, you’d expect him to stand over the guy, laugh and go on down the road. What a reversal of expectation – and Jesus asks the obvious, “Which of these three was a neighbor to the beaten Jew?” The lawyer can’t bring himself to even say “Samaritan”: “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus says, “That’s the one. Go and do likewise.”

Translating the impact of the story into our terms, a Good Samaritan is an Al-Qaeda member who risks his life to pull you from a burning car; or a guy with spiked, multi-colored hair, has tattoos, ear, nose and eyebrow rings, and offers a ride when your car breaks down. This Samaritan is not a hero because he’s a nice, compassionate, helper sort of guy. A Samaritan is your worst nightmare, because this is the one who saves you, and darn it, you need their help. A Samaritan crosses boundaries and goes where no one else dares.

Jesus is saying more than be nice to others, share nail clippers, give a sandwich or a ride. Asking, “Who is my neighbor,” really means, “Who don’t I have to love? How tight in can I draw the circle?” Jesus challenges conventional thought. Instead of an answer to the question, he says, “You are a neighbor.” A neighbor acts like this Samaritan. A neighbor loves, does mercy and kindness, without hesitation or checking credentials. A neighbor loves as God loves – compassionately, freely, unconditionally, out of love for God, extending love and never thinking of whether a person deserves it or not.

Can we really do this? Here’s a clue. I suspect the Samaritan could show mercy by caring for his enemy because he is more deeply connected into God than the clergy who pass by, or the lawyer who knows the law so well. Knowing the words, having knowledge, looking pious, and giving right answers won’t cut it. And as for eternal life, something I imagine we all want, we don’t attain or earn eternal life. God gives eternal life; all have it. We show eternal life by doing love. We are so connected into God, we realize we are God’s beloved, we love God and we love everyone. We dare love with God’s love, even an enemy, a person we despise, fear, would never trust, or the person we turn away from as we pass them by on the street.

Does anyone else feel guilty driving by someone holding a sign asking for money or work, at an intersection? I wish they wouldn’t stand there. I hate when I start thinking like that lawyer, or the clergy who cross the street so as not to notice – “Well, if I give him money, he’ll buy booze or drugs. That’s how those people are.” “How do I know he’s not scamming me?” “I can’t help everyone, you know.”

So, is this a sermon on doing more, producing enough guilt so we’ll go wear ourselves out serving everyone? If we tried, we’d be more likely to die trying. No, that’s not the point. We can’t do this for everyone – yet we need to be open to doing love for any and everyone.

We live eternally now by loving God and loving one another – actually doing it, withholding love from no one, regardless – doing what we can, but doing something. That’s a sign of compassion. We can talk about what it means to love and help, argue over it, and consider the implications all we like. We must do love, do mercy, like this Samaritan. Doing love this way is a sign of the kingdom in which we live.

I know we know that. Inherit eternal life? – start by drinking in a generous, overflowing, healing love God has for each of us, even those we don’t like and think are dead wrong. Then, we’ll see the world differently, and we’ll be more ready to do likewise, as a Samaritan. That’s the sign we live already with life eternal.

An old friend, retired, formerly Dean of Student Affairs at an Alabama university, waits to board his flight home. He notices three or four people loudly arguing at a couple. The ruckus ends. He looks up to see them head his way. They stop in front of him. One asks Rick, “Are you a Christian?” If you are ever asked that, answer, “Yes,” and maybe they’ll leave you alone. Rick answers, “Yes,” but they don’t leave him alone. They invite him to pray with them – and since he’s a Christian, how can he refuse? They circle around Rick and bow heads. The leader must think God is hard of hearing, for he prays loud enough for the couple and half the airport to overhear: “Strike down those vile heathen pagans over there who reject Jesus. Make them an example, so others will accept Jesus.” The prayers end. Rick’s asked to add a word, “Lord, forgive us from hardness of heart, so that we can love others as you love us. May your love through us awaken love in others for you. Amen.” Rick looks up and asks, “Have you ever thought of loving people and letting them know God loves them, instead of condemning them? “Nope” – and they walk away.

Jesus sends seventy disciples into towns he’ll soon be going – sort of a pretest for carrying on his mission after he’s gone. His demands are tough: “No money, no luggage, no shoes, and don’t greet those you pass.” Would you go on a mission trip without make-up, your credit card, at least a bag for your clothes, because you do need to change something, a hair-dryer, or your new iPhone? And when you get to your mission location, would you dare knock on a stranger’s door and say, “Peace to this house!” The occupants might stare at you like you’re from another planet. Regardless, insist you’ll stay with them anyway. If their town welcomes you, take their hospitality. They owe you even if they didn’t invite you. Cure the sick. Tell them, “The Kingdom of God has come near.” If unwelcomed, knock the dust off your sandals and tell them, “God’s Kingdom has come near. Sorry you missed it.” Jesus expects some will reject his peace and turn down application for kingdom membership. Neither condemn them, nor absorb their negative energy. So — just walk away.

Are you ready to go on mission for Jesus? For some reason these seventy do. For us, though, Jesus’ mission is impractical – we couldn’t do this, with airport security, letting strangers in your house, mooching off the generosity of others – just won’t work regardless of who sends us.

We are sent out though. Each Sunday we come here to listen, sing, pray, listen some more, eat bread and drink wine – and then we’re sent out. We leave worship and have coffee, chat with visitors, and wish folks a good week. We leave. Do you remember you are sent? We begin our worship of God, and we continue our worship as we are sent. We pray: “Send us now into the world in peace; granting us strength and courage to love and serve you.” We’re sent to continue the seventy’s work – to offer peace, to embody and proclaim God’s nearness and love to all. We worship and serve – two sides of the same coin.

When I was in children’s Church School classes, our names were listed on a chart on a wall in our classroom. We had about nine things to do each week– read our lesson, bring our Bible, give some money – but most of all show up. You do it, you get a check mark. The more checks, the higher your religious rating. For years I thought all God wants is – read your Bible, be nice, show up and act semi-interested. I’m afraid the church keeps us stuck at this place – act nice, do some religious things, and show up.

No, God’s asking more. We gather to worship, pray for and with, care for each other, be reminded we are forgiven, and receive the Sacrament, so we can be sent out into the world. God wants more than us going through some motions, getting our check marks. We are here to be shaped and transformed so we can offer God’s peace, healing, love, and grace, with the world as our destination – same place the seventy were sent. And if some look at us like we’re from another planet, we won’t give into discouragement, or get angry and condemn them. We leave them with God’s peace, and love them anyway.

The seventy return and they are joyful. Regardless of how the good news is accepted, the demons at least get it. Jesus is joyful, too because, he sees Satan fall from heaven. In their world, powers in heaven are greater than powers on earth. To translate – when God’s peace is given and received, Satan’s power is broken. People are set free from fear, anxiety, guilt, and anything that keeps us apart from God. In other words, sin’s hold is broken. Evil and destruction still exist. Yet we know at a deeper level – we’re on the winning team. God will prevail on earth as is already in heaven – and so will everyone. That’s the conviction with which we are sent and they need to know God’s reign is for them, too, so you and I are sent. How they respond to the news is God’s concern. And God has much more love and patience than we do.

We are here because we are continually being formed into God’s visible presence on earth. In a few moments, we’ll be sent out there with an urgent mission – a mission of love. We need to be focused as we go, not giving into distractions and excuses. Keep God’s love before you. And really – you have to admit it’s pretty amazing. Can you believe God trusts us this much? God does and we can do it, because God’s life and love are so alive within us and among us. Get ready to get sent.

Sermon
The Rev. Dr. C. Steven Teague, Rector
Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

When did you become a Christian? How do you know you are one? Some people make a decision to join a church and be baptized. Does that make one a Christian? For others, someone decided for you, and had you baptized before you could decide for yourself. A few people have a dramatic experience, like Paul, when you get knocked off your feet and turned upside down. However you have come to believe you are a Christian, a common denominator is to realize God loves you fully as you are. But even knowing that won’t make someone a Christian – no more than standing in a garage makes you a car. Nor does joining a church make you a Christian, though I hope it helps. To be a Christian means you decide to follow Jesus.

On the way to Jerusalem and his impending crucifixion, Jesus and friends enter enemy territory. The Samaritans resent Jews for many things, but especially for taking short cuts through their towns on the way to the Holy City. Today Jesus has another reason to cross into Samaria. He goes to preach God’s love and salvation for all, even Gentiles. Yet the Samaritans won’t let him. They rebuff his desire. James and John get defensive, “Jesus, let us call down fire and smite them.” After all, the prophet Elijah did that to smite his enemies. Jesus rebukes the guys. To follow Jesus, means we follow a Savior who brings God’s love to this world – without coercing or threatening anyone with anything. Jesus respects even those who don’t respect him. That’s pretty unnatural for us to do. In this world, we have been taught to get even with those who step on us, not respect them and just walk away. Following Jesus is hard.

A person runs up to proudly tell Jesus, “I’m ready to follow you anywhere.” Jesus knows he’s not, “Right, and you’re willing to give up your bed and home cooked meals to go with me? Think again.”

Jesus spots someone, “Follow me.” “Thanks, I believe I will. But in case my dad dies, I need to be home, you know, family obligations – the Law of Moses, and all. Can you wait for me?” Jesus moves on. Another man volunteers to join Jesus, but he wants to first go tell his family good-bye. “Don’t pull my chain, son. Go on home. You can’t divide your loyalty.” Sometimes we want to follow. We’re just not ready. And the darn thing, Jesus still loves us no matter our decision. Just remember, to follow Jesus means letting go of anger or revenge– and love others as he does. Try it. It’s hard.

Do we ever resist Jesus? You bet. Sometimes we say, “Yes,” to him, and keep him at a distance – even churches do this. I see church ads that invite those whose needs need meeting, “We can meet ‘em.” They offer a buffet of programs for everyone, every concern. They’ll have a series on ten ways to raise your self-esteem, and give you a program to help you achieve whatever selfish desire you want. “We are your one stop, full-service spiritual headquarters — Plus, our church pews have cushions.” That’s not at all what Jesus offers. He says, “Drop what you’re doing and get in line. I’m taking you somewhere you’d never go on your own.” Maybe we need to refocus on following Jesus.

How do we know we are Christians? Christians are those who decide to follow Jesus, or at least try. Being baptized, receiving a certificate, attending Sunday School is great. That gets us in line. But then we must decide if we will follow Jesus, or just hang out. Christians are those who follow Jesus.

Some churches forget to tell new members, “You’ve joined Jesus by joining this church.” We, the church – the people, exist to help others get started, and keep walking with Jesus together. We walk in a new direction. And I hope the world notices we are different. The world tries to help us fit into its agenda. Jesus takes us into the world to change it with God’s love and life.

Jesus will take us places we don’t naturally or easily choose. Instead of looking for what’s wrong in someone, Jesus looks for the good; and so will we. If they brush us off, we wish them well, and mean it – as Jesus does. An old prayer asks God to make us instruments of peace in an unpeaceful and hostile world; to sow love where there’s hatred; pardon those who offend us; maintain faith in a world of doubt and mistrust; bring hope to places of despair; be light in darkness. We console the weary, broken and fearful, rather than seek consolation; we love others unconditionally; serve others, welcome the stranger, take food to the hungry, and love without expectation of return. We follow Jesus. We choose to follow him, a decision that’s more heartfelt than logical, and often demanding and inconvenient.

However you started on the path of being a Christian, whether you chose, or someone chose for you – realize God chooses us first – and God chooses all of us before we are even created. That’s the good news. Then decide what we’ll do with this gift God gives.

Too many Christians think being a Christian is a weekly program or event at the church. Being a Christian is following Jesus into a new way of life. We won’t follow perfectly – we’ll fail sometimes, stumble, fall, even lose sight of Jesus – but God picks us up, dusts us off, and sends us on – if we ask. Let that divine love be the light that calls us on and keeps us faithful and following. God will not let us fail.

So, if you wonder if you’re a Christian — if someone asks if you’re a Christian, with great confidence just say, “I’m trying.” Trying to follow is all that’s asked. Truly, you won’t be asked to do more than that.

Farmers hold their breath as they peer over a cliff, praying that pigs do fly. They don’t. Their pigs go splash in the lake below. Jews double over laughing to hear this story. These Gentiles are not so amused. They’re scared, afraid of Jesus’ power, and they don’t know which side he’s on.

Jesus and the disciples land on the Gerasene shore, Gentile territory, where Jews who visit get told, “Your church is on the other side of the lake.” A man runs down the hill to intercept Jesus as he steps out of the boat – not just any man, a man who has no community, no friends. The poor fellow’s infested with demons. These people believe demons are real, Satan’s minions, sent to create as much chaos, disorder and evil as possible. The demoniac, his moniker, lives among the tombs in the town cemetery. Only the dead will hang out with him.

Sometimes the demons would seize him and turn him into a raging, uncontrollable wild beast. He’d often roam the hinterlands in his birthday suit, revealing more of himself than anyone wants to see. He’s unclean and untouchable. He’s a mess – lost, and without hope. Then he meets Jesus.

The demoniac falls at Jesus’ feet, begging Jesus to leave him alone. Jesus knows who’s really speaking to him. Jesus is no stranger to evil’s form or power. The spirits know exactly who Jesus is and the source of his power, the power of love and healing to undo what evil tries. “What’s your name?” He says, “Legion,” suggesting he has become a housing project for homeless demons. He begs Jesus not to send them back where they came from – a dark, deep watery place, the Abyss, Satan’s domain.

Spotting a large herd of pigs, the demons beg to be sent into them. Since pigs are off limits to Jews – no pork chops, bacon, hot dogs, or playing with a football permitted – you know, strict dietary and purity laws, maybe they think Jesus will leave them alone there. Who knows why Jesus grants them their wish? The infested pigs jump into a lake rather than embrace their new houseguests. Now we learn pigs neither fly nor swim. They drown. The demons end up where they didn’t want to go. Chalk one up for Jesus and God’s team.

But don’t think the farmers rejoice. Even though Legion scares them, Jesus terrifies them. At least Legion is predictable. They run off to warn family and friends, who drop what they are doing to go check Jesus out. Sitting at Jesus’ feet, listening and learning, is their old friend, dressed and making sense. You’d think they would be glad Legion’s fixed, no longer a menace. No, forget Legion and what’s happened for him. Fear narrows their concern. Who is Jesus? “Is he a mightier demon, or would he turn his powers against me?”They ask Jesus to quietly get back in his boat and sail home. Legion sees no future where he is, and wants to go with Jesus. Jesus says his future to stay exactly where he is.

I hope you’re still with me, and haven’t tuned out because I’ve been talking demons and possession. Some people think they’re real. Others believe a good psychiatrist would help. Honestly, there are times I believe it – I believe I’ve met a few, sometimes in churches.

But, actually believing in demons is unnecessary to understanding what’s going on here. We do understand times when life seems to turn against us, the bottom falls out, “nothing is going right,” as Carole King sings. Is this a patch of bad luck, my fault, or somebody out there has it in for me? Doesn’t really matter – it’s feel the same. One visit to the doctor; a pink slip; a wrong move in traffic; a missed diagnosis – we can feel some force working against us. A teenager gets hooked on drugs; children are shot and killed while playing in their neighborhood; nature is imploding around us, earthquakes, volcanoes, oil spills – do you ever wonder which side is winning? Have you ever said something you later regret? You explode at a friend and wonder, “Where did that come from?” I’ve talked with people who wonder if God loves them. They have been told so often, “You don’t fit. Change or get out. God won’t love you as you are.” They begin to accept God’s love reaching for them, too, and they might tell you – “Yes, demonic forces are alive and well. I’ve met them. But I know God’s love is greater.” Jesus brings a greater power that frees the prisoner from fear, and opens the eyes of those blind to God’s grace and love given in Jesus for all.

Jesus sails quietly away. He leaves Legion behind to tell the story of all God’s power in Jesus will do – good news taken to and welcoming Gentiles – a man who no longer lives in death’s domain, raised up by God’s healing grace. In Jesus God puts to rest the myth that nation, religion, orientation, color matter. No one is beyond God’s reach of love, even death itself. That doesn’t mean life with Jesus is perfect, and goes smoothly. We learn to trust that God will finally transform the evil, chaos and disorder, set life and people right again – restore and fix what’s gone amuck in this world – where we live stuck between love and fear. God respects our choices, and even permits those who fear or don’t understand to tell Jesus he can sail back home. Knowing his name is not enough. Experiencing the divine love he brings draws us into his love and away from our fear. He may appear to leave, but rest assured, he’s always present, waiting.

Until we experience God’s healing love and peace in our lives, we don’t have much to tell anyone. Transformed by Jesus reordering of our lives, healing our brokenness, freeing us from our demons and fears, then we can be more than nice people trying hard. He empowers us too, to speak with confidence and authority. He equips us with God’s love to take into deathlike places of this world, where the broken, suffering, homeless, hungry, and helpless roam, waiting for Jesus to come for them. Maybe Jesus comes to them through us.