A message from Father Mark
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, april 14, 2024
How would you respond if I told you that everything you need to know about Jesus Christ is found in our Gospel reading from Luke? Now that’s also an exaggeration. But our Gospel text this morning does provide an unusually succinct summary of Jesus’ life, ministry, and the very gospel message we proclaim.
The first point this passage makes is that God really raised Jesus from the dead. Seems obvious maybe. Many are not convinced. But how do we know it’s true? The open, empty tomb. The folded burial cloths. The scarred hands and feet and side. The appearances to eyewitnesses. That’s how you build a case in court. You present evidence. That’s what Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John are doing. Testifying. Laying out the evidence for us, and for the whole world, that this Jesus, the Son of God, was crucified and rose from the dead.
My second point arising out of this passage is that Jesus brings peace to the anxious. What does Jesus first say here? “Peace be with you.” It’s what he said in our reading last week, too. The first words out of his mouth are words of peace. Jesus brings peace to anxious, frightened hearts. And unlike our words, his words carry divine weight. Peace be with you, and peace there is. This is the peace the world cannot give, the peace Jesus promised to his disciples before his death.
The third point I’d like to highlight from this text is that we can’t understand Scripture without Jesus, no matter how many times we read it. The text says, “Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures.” Now they understood Moses, the prophets, the psalms – the entire Old Testament. It’s all about Jesus. Even before the name Jesus was known and long before he became a human being, the Old Testament was laying the groundwork. The Old Testament points to Jesus. Jesus fulfills all that was ever written about him.
The fourth and final point is that Jesus sends the Church to proclaim this message to everyone. Jesus sent his disciples out into the world to make the reality of a radical love real to those who had not seen it. God doesn’t care if we are entertained on Sunday. God wants you to hear that you are loved and everybody around you is loved and we are obligated to try and love each other better. He wants to give you something concrete and tangible to believe, something outside of yourself, namely, that Jesus died and was raised to prove once and for all that you matter. God wants us to trust him and then go into the world and try to love people.
Jesus is also clear that his message is intended for everyone. We must remember that the good news of Jesus Christ is universal in its scope. It is for everyone everywhere. Even our enemies. We preach Christ who was crucified yet raised from the dead by God. This risen Christ brings us peace, a peace with God and one another which was bought with his life. This is the Gospel and a message that we must bring to the whole world. This is a message that gives us “…the peace of God, which passes all understanding, which will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
Faithfully,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, april 7, 2024
In our Gospel reading from this past Sunday, Thomas famously had doubts; hence, the label given to him. But is doubt a bad thing? It is to some people. Some people understand Thomas as the quintessential person lacking in faith. I think that’s unfair. Does Thomas really make such an unreasonable request? If someone I knew to be dead was just seen walking down Academy St., I’m pretty sure my reaction would be, “Oh, come on. Where? Let’s me see.”
Doubt is not the same as non-belief. Thomas is not a figure to be pitied or disliked for asking questions. On the contrary, I think Thomas is critical to understanding this passage of Scripture because he embodies a specific kind of person: Thomas is that person who asks for evidence. And, contrary to a lot of prevailing wisdom about Thomas, I think Thomas asks for evidence not because he doesn’t believe, but because he desperately wants to believe. Maybe you are a person like that. I guess that we are all Thomas at one point or another. Apart from all the words, descriptions, narratives, and doctrines we hear about Jesus, we want to feel, want to know in some deep place in ourselves that Jesus is real. We want to believe in Jesus, not with our heads, but with our hearts.
It’s fashionable to talk about the decline of the Church in this country. And if you look at church membership, across Christian denominations, it is true that fewer people attend weekly services now than did 30 years ago. But do not be fooled. That is not because people don’t want to believe. People desperately want to believe.
So when we think of Thomas and his doubts, let’s resist the cliched notion of a man of weak faith and full of cynicism. Instead, let us imagine a man who desperately wanted to believe but just needed a little evidence. And let us strive to make Jesus known to all of those people out there who, like Thomas, badly want to believe in something real.
Faithfully,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, march 31, 2024
Most of us have heard the Easter story before—maybe dozens of times. Most of us still aren’t quite sure we’ve gotten the point, or that it makes any difference. We don’t feel resurrected.
In his famous book, Man’s Search for Meaning, Victor Frankl tells a story about his fellow prisoners in a Nazi prison camp during World War II. They had been held captive for so long that when they were released, Frankl said, “they walked out into the sunlight, blinked nervously, and then silently walked back into the familiar darkness of the prisons, darkness to which they had been accustomed for such a long time.”
We too are inclined to get comfortable in our familiar darkness. The message of Easter is that God is not willing to leave us there. There is always another chance, another hope, another voice that will speak to us of new life—no matter how many times we’ve heard it before, no matter how many times we have failed to hear it before.
Every day, every moment you are invited to start again. Christ is risen. May we all rise with him.
Faithfully,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, march 17, 2024
“Sir, we want to see Jesus.” Are there more poignant words in all of Scripture? I doubt it. But beyond its poignancy, there are lessons for us in the Gospel reading for Last Sunday of Lent.
First, it’s telling us to be on the lookout for those spiritual seekers like the Greeks in our lesson. They’re all around us if we’re prepared to listen. They may have all sorts of questions about God, or they may just feel like God’s a million miles away from them, and if there’s a way to get closer, they want to find it.
Second, this gospel is giving us some guidance about those conversations. We may start in all kinds of interesting places, but as Christians, we do have to get to the point sooner or later, and the point is Jesus. Jesus is the clearest picture of God we can find. And that picture is clearest of all at the Cross. At the Cross, we see, not a God who tortures and kills his enemies, but a God who’s willing to endure torture and death at the hands of his enemies rather than stop loving them. The face of Jesus on the Cross is the face of God for this world today: a God who isn’t far from us but suffers with us.
Be honest about the challenges. Preachers tell a lot of lies about this. They’ve talked about how being a Christian makes them happy all day long, but they haven’t talked about their struggles to follow the hard teachings of Jesus or the times their friends have ridiculed them or rejected them. People need to know right up front that it’s not always easy to be a Christian.
We need to prioritize all of this: to know Jesus and follow him ourselves, and to make him known to others. Be connected with people who don’t know him. Be on the lookout for spiritual seekers. Take their questions seriously. Help them understand what Jesus shows us about God. Tell them the truth about the challenging bits. Walk in the light of Jesus yourself and shine that light for others. That’s what today’s Gospel is calling us to do.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, march 10, 2024
How many Bible verses do you have memorized? This was a big deal in the tradition in which I grew up. Memorizing scripture. I know people in this parish come from a lot of different backgrounds and so I’m betting many of you had similar experiences to mine.
This week’s Gospel lesson features maybe the single most often-quoted passage of Scripture – John 3:16. For many traditions and many people, John 3:16 is shorthand for the Christian faith. You see people with signs bearing “John 3:16” behind the backboards at basketball games and behind the goalposts at football games. People might put “John 3:16” on their license plates or their coffee mugs.
However, there is danger in reading any passage of Scripture in isolation. How many of us know John 3:17 by heart? Honestly, it’s as worth memorizing as the previous verse. It says: “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
God loved the world—the world—so much that God sent the Son to bring salvation to the whole world. Not to condemn, not to damn, but to save. If you’re going to use John 3 to come up with a theory of salvation, I respectfully suggest the conclusion you come to should be “Through Jesus, God saves the whole world.”
So if you’ve committed John 3:16 to memory, add verse 17 to it as well. The next time you see a billboard or a coffee mug or a sign at a basketball game with “John 3:16” on it, remember that it’s not just something we say or put on signs or shorthand for a way to divide us from each other into camps of the saved and perishing. It’s personal and it’s universal. God loves the whole world. And Jesus came to save all of it.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, march 3, 2024
In our Gospel lesson on Sunday, we read about Jesus cleansing the Temple. We have this image of Jesus almost always serene, always speaking softly to some suffering person, or quietly performing some miracle. And that’s certainly part of him. But Jesus is fully human. And human beings are complex. Jesus is no different in that respect.
It wasn’t the house, the Temple, that was really so important. It was what took place in the Temple that was meaningful. It was the place of repentance and sacrifice. It was the place where God and humans were reconciled. A place of hope and faith in God and His promises. A place for all people. But it had been turned into a market where people were exploited.
It’s easy for us to look back at what happened at the Temple and think, “They got what was coming to them! Those hard-headed, ungrateful sinners!” But we should acknowledge that God gets pushed to the side more often than we might like to admit. Think about Easter and the many activities leading up to it. We come to church, we pray, and we read Scripture. These seem like all the right things, but I wonder how often they become Godly busy work.
I’ll tell you my own view is that we could do with a little madness in our hearts. A Lenten enthusiasm and zeal that would have us turn over some tables in our hearts. Drive out the distractions that keep us from focusing on our walks with God. We need to focus on the love and compassion of God that will not let us go our own way; that will not allow us to get stuck and alienated from God and each other.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, February 25, 2024
As I was studying the texts for Sunday, I was struck by one line in in our Gospel reading in particular: “And Peter took [Jesus] aside and began to rebuke him.” You heard that right, Peter tried to rebuke Jesus. On the surface, a pretty shocking development. But is it?
If you back up and think about it, it’s not too difficult to see what’s going on with Peter. I think he’s scared. I think he feels overwhelmed by and unprepared for what’s coming. I think we can all relate. We’ve also known times when we felt unprepared. When we looked down the road at what was coming and didn’t like it. Haven’t there been times when you felt scared or overwhelmed by life? Haven’t there been times when you just didn’t know whether your faith was up to the job?
Imagine taking a snapshot of your life in a moment like that. Would you like what you see? I’m often not at my best at those times. We’re quick to see that one picture, that one snapshot in time, as descriptive and representative of who we are and what our life is like. We take that one photograph of ourselves and say, “This is me. This is my life. This is all I will ever be.
What if we took those individual moments in life for what they really are? What if we looked at them as simply one moment in time, a single still frame that is part of our life’s story? We can look at those snapshots of our lives and let them bind us to the past or give us an inaccurate assessment of who we are. Or we can look at them and say, “Wow. That’s not me and it’s not who I want to be.” What if we allow these moments to call us back to ourselves, back to our center, back into alignment with God’s will?
Peace,
Mark +
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, February 18, 2024
Our Gospel reading for this past Sunday could really be broken into three distinct scenes. First, Mark describes Jesus emerging from the waters of the river Jordan, having been baptized by John. A dove comes to rest on him, maybe on an outstretched arm. He hears a voice, what could only be the voice of God saying: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” This relationship that God has with Jesus is the same relationship that God has with each one of us. Each of us is a child whom God loves and in whom God delights.
In the second scene, Mark describes Jesus going out in the desert. The wilderness is all around us. We live in it. Sometimes through our actions and inactions, we contribute to expanding the wilderness. The wilderness exists anywhere we feel isolated or afraid or tempted or lost. And let’s be honest – we are feeling at least one of those most of the time. The relationship God entered into on our behalf does not cease at the desert’s edge. The adversity of the wilderness is the second scene of our story, but it’s the relationship created in the first that carries through.
In scene 3, Mark describes Jesus walking through Galilee proclaiming a message to everyone who will listen. Our proclamation of this same good news happens whenever we act on the faith that comes from God’s delighted, loving relationship with us. Our proclamation happens when we come to know, love, and delight in all the messy and messed up people around us.
Wherever you are in this story of the life of faith, trust that God began a relationship with you before you were worthy of one. Trust that God is right alongside you. And trust that God is constantly showering you with opportunities to share the good news through your words and deeds.
Peace,
Mark +
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, February 11, 2024
Today is the Last Sunday of the Epiphany, the conclusion of that part of the Church year in which we formally consider the divinity of Jesus Christ. The gospel readings for this season culminate in the Transfiguration narrative, in which Jesus is temporarily physically transformed and his identity as the Son of God dramatically revealed on a mountaintop. In the Episcopal Church, the Last Sunday of the Epiphany is also designated as World Mission Sunday, an opportunity for us to gather together to increase our awareness of, and participation in, the wider, global mission of the Church.
I have thought a lot about the term “world mission” and what that means. I think when we hear the terms “world mission” and “global mission,” we often think of work that only occurs somewhere else. There’s an “in here” and “out there” quality to this notion of mission. There’s us and then there’s “the world.” Friends, there’s only one world. While Christ taught that we are not to be of the world, we are most assuredly in it.
Thankfully, people in the Church continue to respond to God’s call to seek and serve Christ in all people worldwide. Missionaries in the Young Adult Service Corps, Episcopalians ages 21-30, spend at least one year of their lives living with and serving communities around the world. Though not all of us are called to travel to distant places, every single one of us is called demonstrably to love our neighbors. Every one of us has a role to play in God’s mission. Or maybe you’re meant to lend your hand to the ongoing struggle against hunger by working with the Madison-Morgan County Food Pantry. Maybe you’re called to be a compassionate listener for a friend.
Friends, these, too, are ways of participating God’s global mission. They’re just happening on our particular spot on the globe. I invite you to consider how we, as the body of Christ and as individuals, can continue to advance God’s global mission, whether it’s across the ocean or up the street.
Peace,
Mark +
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, February 4, 2024
Our Gospel reading for this week feels a little ordinary. Is that the right word? Lacking in “oomph”? But there are a few really interesting things going on.
Jesus’ healing Simon’s mother-in-law feels kind of routine. We don’t even get her name. But Jesus’ healing did more than make her physically well. It restored her dignity. In that place and time, it was the role of a figure like a mother-in-law to greet important guests, which she was precluded by her illness from doing. Jesus facilitated her return to this important role by healing her physically.
And what about demons not being permitted to speak? Some suppose that the reason the demons must be silenced is because they know Jesus and, given the chance, will tell everyone. This is not the way Jesus would like his identity to be established – by demons. We can also assume that Jesus is fully aware that if his identity becomes public, his life will be cut short. We tend to think of Jesus’ crucifixion as a singular event, but in fact, the Roman government was crucifying people daily. The demons have the power to get Jesus killed – ahead of schedule. Jesus knows all too well that his time will be limited. He knows that a cross awaits him. It is urgent that he share the good news, the Gospel, with as many people as possible.
This latter part of the lesson defines our work, too. We know the good news – and we must share that. St. Francis is credited with saying, “Preach the Gospel always. Use words only if necessary.” Whether he said or not is immaterial. It’s good stuff. Living the Gospel, embodying the Good News, has always been part of our story. And it has been part of the story of all faithful people. It’s our work, too.
Peace,
Mark +
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, January 28, 2024
Gospel lessons about unclean spirits aren’t exactly rare in Scripture. But, I have to say, the one we heard Sunday morning is different than most. This unclean spirit whom Jesus confronts is actually in the synagogue while Jesus is teaching. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time!
Now, it’s easy to dismiss this kind of Biblical story in our day. We look to psychology for a comfortable, modern lens to deal with concepts like unclean spirits. It is doubtful that our afflictions look like something out of Dante’s Inferno or horror film special effects, but that doesn’t mean that inclinations, influences, and ideas that afflict our spirits are any less real or damaging to our walks with God and one another.
Maybe your unclean voice tells you that you’re unattractive, unlovable, and doomed to a lonely existence; or that you should just shut yourself in your house; or that your challenges are too insignificant to ask others for help; or that others will laugh at whatever you say; or that whatever you do, nothing will be enough for God or anyone else to love you.
Or maybe your unclean voice tells you that God would never call you to lead a Bible study or start a new ministry for the homeless or share your faith with a person who needs to hear about Jesus because, after all, “other people,” “better Christians” (whatever that means) are better suited to those sorts of things that you are.
To each and every one of these unclean spirits, Jesus says, “Be silent, and come out of them.”
Whenever you hear the voice of that unclean spirit within you, the enticing voice that speaks of lethargy or apathy or anger or fear, listen also for a second voice, the voice of Jesus speaking from the depths of your soul. His is the voice of freedom that allows us to live into the fullness that God desires for each of us.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, January 21, 2024
In our Gospel reading this week, Jesus announces the beginning of his ministry with these words. “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” We could have several sermons just talking about that phrase, but a couple of features jump out at me.
The Greek word translated as “repent” – metanoeō – means to think differently or to reconsider. Repenting is NOT, as many of us have been conditioned to think, the same as confessing. It is not “I’m sorry for my sins.” Jesus is telling people, “Look, this good news I’m going to give you is something new or, at least, is very different than the way you’ve been accustomed to thinking.
And that brings me to the second part of our passage: the call to follow. Jesus calls Simon, Andrew, James, and John to follow Him. These fishermen were ordinary people, going about their daily tasks when Jesus interrupted their lives with an invitation. Jesus’ call to discipleship is not limited to the rich or well-read or those with the right social connections. If anything, it’s the opposite. It’s extended to all who are willing to respond.
Friends, the need is urgent and the imperative given to us by Jesus to love people more and better is crystal clear. The call to discipleship is a profound invitation from Jesus Himself. It requires a definitive response from us to leave behind our old ways and focus on the clear objectives God has laid before us.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, January 14, 2024
In our Gospel lesson this week, Jesus asks Andrew and the other disciple, “What are you looking for?” He means a lot more than just, “Can I help you find something?” Jesus is really asking something more akin to, “What are you searching for in life?” Jesus asks us the same question. “What do you seek?” What are you hunting for, to satisfy your soul’s deep longing? He’s still asking. He still wants to know, because we are really good at looking for all the wrong things, in all the wrong places.
But the disciples have their own question for Jesus: “Rabbi, where are you staying?” And this question, too, is more than it seems. They’re really asking: “Teacher, what is it like to stay with you? Can we come live where you live? Will you teach us? Because we are looking for something to devote our lives to.”
Jesus’ response is, “Come and see.” We often talk about making Jesus part of our lives, inviting him into our hearts to live with us. But what if we turn that around, and realize that Jesus is welcoming us into his life? Jesus invites us to become part of what he is doing. Jesus isn’t sitting around waiting for us to invite him into our lives. Instead, Jesus invites us into his life. With his “come and see” Jesus includes us in God’s work. So come and see the extraordinary things God has in store for your life.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, January 7, 2024
On Sunday, our Gospel passage was Mark’s account of the baptism of Jesus. One question I like to ponder is, “Why did Jesus even need to baptized in the first place?” Recall that John describes his baptism as one for the repentance of sins. But Jesus was no sinner. It was his manner of life, declared to be sinless, that set him apart from everyone. It doesn’t make a lot of sense except that it does when you consider that Jesus went wherever his mission led him. Wherever God sent him.
I think Mark starts right out of the gate with the baptism because it is a window into what God is doing in Jesus. It is a profound moment when who appears to be an ordinary carpenter from Galilee is revealed by the muddy waters of the Jordan to be the Christ. When he emerges from those waters, Jesus’ life takes on a new dimension and new direction. No longer an obscure peasant, Jesus assumes a very public ministry. He is no longer a private person. He is a very public figure.
In a way, the same happens to us in our own baptisms. Just as Jesus’ baptism definitively made him God’s person in the world, so claiming our own baptism makes each of us God’s person in the world, God’s very public person. Together and in full view of the world we say that we will be God’s people in the world by following the example set by Jesus. And what an example! Jesus entered the Jordan because he desired to be where humanity was, not demand that we come to him. God loves humanity enough to join us in the water and mud and mess of life, to join us in the flesh to show us God’s ways in person.
I think that’s why Jesus went to be baptized. He went to show us that when we undertake the task of following him, when we become part of Christian community through the waters of baptism, we commit to doing the work that he did. When we take our own baptisms seriously, we will find ourselves, as he did, in the company of all manner of humanity, some of whom we like and some of whom don’t, but all of whom are worthy of the love and care to which we are called to extend to them.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, December 31, 2023
The opening of The Gospel of John is a nativity story. It just starts a lot earlier than Matthew or Luke. “In the beginning,” in the very beginning – whenever that was – was the Word. In other words, if we go back as far as our history and imagination can take us, we still aren’t at the beginning of the Word himself. Whenever that was, Christ was already there: “And the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” John is establishing for us that Jesus had an identity before the baby in the manger. He isn’t just a great religious teacher or prophet, but the very Word of God.
“And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.” Another airy phrase. What is Jesus’ “glory?” I’d suggest that John sees Jesus’ glory in the way he lived. He sees Jesus’ glory in his interactions with the woman caught in adultery, the people with leprosy, the spirit possessed, and the Samaritan woman at the well. His glory is an eternal and indestructible love. A love that demolished boundaries and defied human authority. We see the glory of God in Jesus’ way of life, teaching, and living the will of God even when it made him an outcast and object of scorn. In loving others so completely, his own interests – indeed his own life – became of secondary importance. And, ultimately, I think John sees Jesus’ glory in the cross. In the act of voluntarily giving up his human life for the essential principles that he taught: the same eternal and indestructible love that defines God.
And maybe you say to me, “Well, that’s all very interesting. But where do we come in?” My answer to that is that the Word still needs to be made flesh. And so as we welcome Jesus into our hearts and put his teaching into practice in our lives, the Word becomes visible and tangible again – in us. We are called to live out this Christmas message by following his example of plunging into human life ourselves, into that same mess and ambiguity, and giving ourselves to doing the work we were called to do: living lives of love and compassion.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, December 24, 2023
This week, I mostly want to use this space to thank all of the people in this community who made our services on December 24 and 25 possible. Our Altar and Flower guilds deserve a special word of thanks for the ways they make our services run so smoothly and our worship so meaningful. But none of it would work without all of the people who have a part: acolytes, ushers, Licensed Eucharistic Ministers, lectors, Organ techs, and everyone who touches our worship experience. Our wonderful vestry steps in wherever they are needed. I hope the services this past week help us to keep in mind the value and deep meaning of praying and worshipping God together at Advent.
My only other comment is something I said in my Christmas Eve sermon: Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Jesus of Nazareth as a human being. The miracle of Christmas is that God voluntarily laid aside the divine nature to experience both the joys and suffering of being a human being. And God did that for one simple, if unfathomable reason: God loves you. God loves all of us. And that means that we don’t have the option of not loving others or picking and choosing whom we love. We all bear the image of our Creator. So, while it may seem redundant, the profound message of Christmas is that God loves you and God expects you to love others in return. How much better our world would be if we could persuade more people to take that directive to heart?
Merry Christmas.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, December 17, 2023
This past Sunday – Gaudete or Rejoicing Sunday – is set apart in this season for rejoicing, because we know that Christ is near. In our reading from Thessalonians, Paul tells that community to rejoice always. And so we lit the rose-colored candle on the Advent wreath as a visible marker of the special quality assigned to this particular day in this particular season. It is a Sunday for rejoicing.
I confess, though, that it feels a little hard to preach about rejoicing always in the shadow of world chaos. Death and destruction in Israel and Gaza. The never-ending political dysfunction in our country. The people in this culture who seem to work overtime trying to create division and mistrust among us. There’s an air of negativity and “us vs. them-ism” that works against feeling joy. At an individual level, maybe you’ve experienced loss or challenges in your own life in recent days. The point is the invitation to rejoice can feel a little hollow or overwhelming.
That said, even if we don’t feel particularly joyous for whatever reason, it does not mean that God is absent. The real question is this: Do we dare to risk exerting ourselves with gratitude and rejoicing in the presence of God, even when don’t feel especially joyous? When our world is so incredibly fractured and so much remains to be done? The answer us, “yes.”
God is not deterred in the least by our messiness or emptiness over the holidays. We can look for God to be with us in human frailty and brokenness and to transform our lives into something divine. I remember one line from a sermon given by one of my colleagues: “There is no shadow of our lives that can obscure the light of God’s desire to be among us.” Amen to that.
This is a season of joy, not because our lives are perfect or because we feel happy all the time. It is joyous because we are reminded that God is near, always near. That we are loved, always and profoundly loved. And that God can use us to help others experience that same love. How can the nearness of a loving God and the care that God continually expresses for us and our human siblings not be a cause for celebration?
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, December 10, 2023
In our Gospel reading this week, we heard about John the Baptizer. Let’s be honest, John was a weird character. I wonder if most who heard him didn’t ask, “Who is the crazy man and what’s he hollerin’ about? ‘Baptism for the repentance of sins’? What’s that?”
Weird though he was, John was a prophet and prophets are about telling it like it is. John was a spokesperson, not for his own agenda, but for God’s. He had that in common with other prophets, too. John was calling people to repent. Calling people to evaluate their lives and choose to turn in a new direction. Calling them to come and be baptized and experience a ritual and spiritual cleansing of sin. Calling them to a fresh start.
In Advent, we are encouraged to make an effort to examine our consciences, to examine the ways we are currently living to discern whether a recalibration is in order. That, by the way, is what repentance is. Repentance and confession are not the same things. Repentance is not sitting around in sackcloth and ashes and wailing about what a sinner you are – we all are. It’s evaluating your life and making a conscious decision to realign yourself with God’s intent for your life.
In Advent, our work is, in effect, to prepare the house—that is, our hearts, and make them ready for God to use them in a way that both glorifies God and equips us to make God’s vision for creation an ever more present reality. As we continue our Advent journey, let us heed the Baptizer’s cry, and turn away from those things that block Christ’s access to hearts and the word that each of us is called to do.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, December 3, 2023
The word Advent is derived from the Latin word meaning “coming.” In our tradition, Advent is a time of preparation and expectation for the coming celebration of Jesus’ birth and the final coming of Christ “in power and glory.” Advent is a time of anticipation. It is a time of waiting. It’s a time of preparation. We think of Advent as the lead-up to the joy of Christmas, which it is. But Advent is equally a time of anticipating and preparing for Christ’s return.
The perennial problem, of course, is that we don’t know when it’s going to happen, and Jesus’ words in Mark 13, which we read this week, don’t really help us in that respect. As the tradition emerged and changed, people seemed to be of two minds: Jesus’ return was imminent, or it was for some unknown point in time in the future. Is it now or later?
I’d like to suggest that the answer to the question, “Which one is it: now or later?” is BOTH. I’d also like to suggest that, as important as it is for us to remember that humble birth, Advent isn’t only about getting ready to remember the baby in the manger. Nor is it only about looking to some future second coming. The real work of Advent is expecting Christ and that includes expecting Christ in our lives right this very moment.
Last week, we heard Jesus’s moving words from Matthew 25. Those words resonate here too: Jesus is always coming to us in the form of the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the prisoner. Jesus is coming to us all the time. It’s not just a beginning and end. It’s in the now, too.
Peace,
Mark +
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, November 26, 2023
On Sunday, we observed the Feast of Christ the King. And I will admit that I have some difficulty relating to Jesus of Nazareth as a “king.” To be sure, the Christian tradition has long referred to Jesus as “king.” And I get why that is: for much of human history, kings or queens were among the most powerful human beings on the planet, some exercising extraordinary authority over the people, land, and resources under their rule.
But the truth is, virtually nothing about Jesus’ earthly life is characteristic of royalty. He wasn’t born in a palace or into a royal – or even distinguished – family. He didn’t even fit in with his own family. He did weird things that they found disturbing or embarrassing. Matthew’s gospel recounts an instance in which his family was so concerned about Jesus that they tried to forcibly remove him from the house in which he was staying to bring him home.
And yet proclaiming the “kingdom of God” was a central theme of Jesus’ ministry. He told parables of the kingdom, told people the kingdom was at hand, and invited them to enter. But the kingdom was always something different than what people expected. In a day when many Jews wanted a powerful military leader to challenge Rome, Jesus said, “The kingdom is like a tiny mustard seed…the kingdom is like yeast hidden in the dough…the kingdom is like a hidden pearl.”
Christ is King. Our task is to stop looking up to false kings and queens, of which there seem to be so many at the moment. The ones who are committed to denigrating and dividing, further demeaning the poor and improving the position of the already powerful. We are loyal subjects of Christ the King when we commit ourselves to looking for authority, not in those who would elevate themselves, but to those who have hearts for those with the greatest need. By making acts of mercy, generosity, and compassion the hallmarks of our daily lives. By allowing Christ, and the love that he embodies, to rule our hearts and guide our every action.
Peace,
Mark +
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, November 19, 2023
In our Gospel reading for Sunday, Jesus told The Parable of the Talents. A talent was a unit of measurement in the ancient world, or a unit of money like a dollar or a pound. Three servants were given different amounts – 5, 2, and 1 talents – told in trust until their master returned. These would have been large sums of money. You know the story: the servants given 5 and 2 talents multiplied those amounts and were praised by the master. The third servant put his 1 talent in the ground, where it neither gained nor lost value. This last servant was cast into outer darkness with the requisite weeping and gnashing of teeth.
If this parable is about taking care of money, it’s a terrible one really. Thankfully, it isn’t. There are two possible interpretations I would like for us to consider. The first is that the “talent” is a metaphor for our abilities and the parable is about how we use our abilities in furtherance of God’s realm. Our word “talent” is derived from the Middle English, talent, spelled the same way, which is derived from the Old English, talente (which descended through Latin from the Ancient Greek, tálanton, which was “a particular weight, especially of gold, a sum of money.”) So when Jesus was speaking about talents in the first century, he was really talking about talents in the 21st-century sense. That’s one way of thinking about this passage. We could talk about how we use our individual gifts, our individual talents, in furtherance of the Gospel and that would certainly be worthwhile.
Another way of thinking about it is that we, as the modern disciples of Jesus, have been entrusted with a treasure. That treasure is the Gospel message itself. Way back in Chapter 5, Jesus told his disciples: “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hidden. People do not light a lamp and put it under the bushel basket; rather, they put it on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”
Jesus tells us to proclaim the good news. If we go out and share the message we have been given, then it can multiply and spread beyond what we can imagine. My friends, what could possibly be the point of keeping this good news to ourselves?
So let your light shine. Go out and spread the good news we have received: the good news of God’s love in Jesus. If you share this good news, it will grow and multiply and affect the lives of others, beyond what you can imagine.
Peace,
Mark +
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, November 12, 2023
How are you waiting? In our Gospel reading for Sunday, we heard the Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids, which is all about waiting. It’s a lesson about waiting for Jesus, or more specifically, preparing while we wait.
We’re all waiting. Some of us are waiting for Jesus to heal our brokenness and bring peace to our individual lives. We’re all waiting for Jesus to return to make all things new. This parable challenges us to consider how we’re waiting. Do we have spiritual reserves, oil for our lamps? Are we actively growing more and more into Christ-likeness or going through the motions? Are we deepening our relationships with God or repeating meaningless prayers and skimming through familiar Bible passages? Are we really getting ready or just hoping we have enough to get by?
The oil in our lamps isn’t what gets us into the kingdom of God. But if we let our supply of oil – our spiritual reserves – run dry, we may be tempted to seek out substitutes for those reserves that don’t work. And looking elsewhere distracts us from the hard work of waiting. We might start to forget who we are truly waiting for.
As we look for Christ to come, know that Christ is waiting for us, too. Jesus is waiting for each of us to turn our lives over to him. He is waiting for us to commit ourselves completely to doing the work of the reign of God. That’s how we keep oil in our lamps.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, November 5, 2023
On Sunday, we observed All Saints Day. Two different notions of sainthood have developed over the centuries. The most common definition of a saint is essentially a perfect person, someone who has been obedient to God in his or her life to such a degree that we are inspired by that life. Think of St. Mary, the mother of Jesus, St. Paul, and St. Stephen, the first Christian martyr. Or think of Saint Augustine and Saint Francis of Assisi.
However, there’s another, much older definition of a saint. A “saint” is simply one who has been made holy by God. By this definition, members of the Body of Christ – including you – are saints. You’re a saint, not because you lead an exemplary life (which maybe you do), but because you belong to God.
We are a holy people because God has made us a part of God’s family. But since we are a part of God’s family, we are called to be responsible members of that family. We are called to be the peacemakers and the merciful that Jesus speaks about in the Beatitudes, featured in our Gospel reading. God calls us to extend our holiness – our sainthood if you will – in our daily lives, far beyond the walls of Advent, to broaden and expand the communion of saints to include those currently without hope and allow the love of Christ to be felt profoundly by those who need it.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, October 29, 2023
“Love God and love your neighbor as you love yourself.” That is the heart of our Gospel message today. And what could be simpler, really? Well, not so much.
What does it mean to love God? A lot of things, I’m sure. One important way in which we love God with all our hearts and souls and minds is to give careful and personal attention to what is important to God and to listen closely to what God is saying. If we are listening closely to God and paying close attention to what is important to God, we will do what God calls us to do. And what has God called us to do? We’re supposed to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. That’s the heart of what God wants.
Except some of us don’t know how to love ourselves all that well. Sometimes we have remedial work before we can love others. That’s why you will frequently hear me ask what may seem like a silly and simple question: Do you know that God loves you? In my experience, you would be shocked at the number of people we know, even those who sit in the pews of our churches, who don’t know that God loves them. We can’t begin to love people as we love ourselves until we know what it means to love ourselves!
When we listen attentively to God and begin to trust that we are loved, then it follows that we have a better understanding of what it means to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. This is the basic message of the Gospel of Jesus Christ: what God wants is a world in which the people he loves go on to love each other and that love builds on itself and cascades out into the broader world where it can change everything.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, october 22, 2023
“And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription? They say unto him, Caesar’s. Then saith he unto them, Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s.”
This is the King James Version of a portion of our text for this week. It’s a famous passage. Some version of it comes around during stewardship season each year. Some people think it’s about obeying the government or paying taxes. I don’t think it’s really about any of those things directly.
Jesus knew that a coin, in and of itself, wasn’t worth anything. It’s just a piece of metal. Whose image was on that coin? Tiberius Caesar. If his picture is on it, it must belong to him. So give it back to him. It’s that simple.
But then Jesus makes a sudden turn – give to God what belongs to God. What’s the parallel here? If Caesar’s image is on the coin, where is God’s image? God’s image was standing all around Jesus. Even the Pharisees knew that teaching well – we humans are created in the image of God. Jesus turns focus back on what God actually cares about: not coins, not money, but people.
What Jesus is saying here is so much bigger than money – give to God the things that are God’s. As you give to the emperor, you must also give yourself to God. What does it mean to give yourself to God? There’s no one answer that fits all. I will give you a hint though: I believe being made in the image of God and giving ourselves to God has something to do with the fact that we are all connected. We are not alone. I am not the only image of God walking around. What is critical is how I treat the other images of God whose lives are connected with mine. That is a start to learning how to give back to God.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, october 15, 2023
What in the world is going on in the Parable of Wedding Feast that Jesus tells in the Gospel reading for today? Of particular interest is this guy who’s made it into the banquet but isn’t dressed in the correct wedding attire. He gets chastised by the king and then tossed out. And not just tossed out, but “into outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Seems pretty harsh for violating the dress code.
But what about wedding clothing, even in our time? The attire of the wedding party is coordinated. Wedding guests are told in advance what style of clothing they are expected to wear. You don’t wear a tank top and flip-flops to a formal wedding or vice versa. Even today, you’d probably be asked to leave.
My take on what Matthew is saying is that even though everyone is invited to the party, there are still expectations of those who attend. We put on our wedding clothes when we show our commitment to try and love like Jesus loved. The man who refuses to put on a wedding garment becomes a symbol for everyone invited to and who claims a place in the Body of Christ who declines to accept the responsibility that comes with it. The result can be “outer darkness”: a state of alienation from God and each other and living in a miserable, declining world. Let’s choose another path. Let’s all put on our wedding garments. Sign on as a full participant in the feast and wait and see what God will do.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, october 8, 2023
When some of us think about rules, our minds go immediately to the Ten Commandments. Many of us were taught and memorized these as children as a set of scary absolutes. The consequences of transgression were dire. But this way of reading the commandments is a distortion that robs them of their true power and relevance.
The Ten Commandments were not given to make us afraid. They were given to set some boundaries, some guidelines to remind us to honor God and how to get along with our neighbors. Jesus later summarized all ten and quite succinctly: “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. [Tablet 1] And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” [Tablet 2]
The commandments can certainly be read legalistically. But they can also be read with an eye toward how they might actually be applied in our lives. Take the first commandment, “You shall have no other gods before me.” That’s usually translated as “Don’t follow a different religious tradition.” But we can think about it in a different way: “Put God first.” When you get up in the morning and think about what it is that’s going to get you through your day, think about God first. Not your assets, your relationships, your brains, and certainly not your cell phone. The first commandment is: “Put God first.” All ten can be read in a similarly relevant way.
The Ten Commandments don’t exist to make us feel guilty. They exist as guideposts to help us find the fullness of what exists in loving God and our neighbor. Let’s try looking at the commandments through adult eyes, not as a set of restrictions, but in terms of how we can be more intentional in our love of God and neighbor.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, October 1, 2023
What does it mean to “be a Christian”? In a time in which lots of people make casual claim to the label “Christian,” it’s important to ask ourselves what that really means.
As you can imagine, in two thousand years of church history, there have been lots and lots of answers – or attempted answers – to that question but no consensus. I like what C.S. Lewis says in Mere Christianity:
It is a [real Person, Christ, here and now] really coming and interfering with your very self; killing the old natural self in you and replacing it with the kind of self Christ has… If all goes well, [Christ will turn] you permanently into a different sort of thing; into a new little Christ, a being which, in its own small way, has the same kind of life as God; which shares in [God’s] power, joy, knowledge, and eternity.”
C.S. Lewis says it means being transformed into “a little Christ.” Our reading from Philippians this week draws on this same theme. Paul tells that community, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” He isn’t just asking the Philippians to be of one mind with each other – he’s asking them to be united in the mind of Christ.
But being a Christian isn’t something we can do for ourselves or by ourselves. God is at work in us. And God has a blueprint in Christ, the same Christ who, “though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.”
This is what it means to be a Christian. To act in humility and love. To put the needs of others above our own. To associate with outcasts, strangers, and “sinners.” To put the unity in our communities above our selfish interests. To call our leaders to account when they allow the quest for power and wealth to run roughshod over the lives of those who lack resources.
It means striving – and never fully succeeding – to live up to the example set by Christ. Will we get there? Most likely not. But when we aim for that target, we can’t help but love people more and better. And that, ultimately, is what it means to be a Christian.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, September 24, 2023
Our Gospel lesson from Sunday raises issues of jealousy and envy. The Parable of the Workers on the Vineyard pits God’s fairness against human notions of fairness. The workers who toiled all day in the vineyard and those who worked maybe an hour were all paid the same amount. The idea offends our human notions of equity and “a fair day’s pay for a fair day’s work.” Except that God pays on a different scale. Grace isn’t meted out based on how deserving we are or how hard we’ve worked for it. It’s freely given.
Envy is a particularly pernicious sin. It prevents us from noticing the many ways God blesses us because we can’t resist comparing our blessings to someone else’s, and that comparison creates resentment. Last week, Jesus told us to stop counting how many times we must forgive someone else. This week, he teaches us to stop counting someone else’s blessings, so that we can start living into our own.
Jesus calls on us to make disciples, not comparisons. We’re commanded to love our neighbor, not keep a tally sheet on how our blessings match up with other people’s. It’s certainly none of our concern whom God chooses to bless and our opinion on their worthiness for that blessing is completely irrelevant. So let’s go of any inclination to assess who’s deserving of blessing and who isn’t and just be grateful that God is infinitely more generous than we could ever possibly understand.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, September 17, 2023
In our Gospel lesson this week, Jesus picks up right where he left off last week. If the topic last week was conflict and reconciliation, this week’s focus is forgiveness.
Peter asks, “How often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus answers, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.” I think, though, the number of times we are expected to forgive is immaterial. Forgiving is a fundamental part of what it means to follow and attempt to love like Christ. And who are we expected to forgive? Basically, everyone. That’s what makes this one of Jesus’s most difficult lessons.
As hard as it is, forgiveness is the only way forward. Forgiving does not mean that we forget, condone, or approve of what has been done to us or others. It does not mean we ignore or excuse cruelty or injustice. It means we start to be released from the control these wounds have over us. It means that we are no longer weighed down by a wrong done to us. We can look to the future rather than the past. Forgiveness is an act of hopefulness and resurrection for the one who forgives.
So how do we begin to forgive? We start by acknowledging that we have been forgiven. Forgiveness does not originate in us. It begins with God. That’s what the slave in our Gospel lesson who refused to forgive the debt didn’t understand. We only choose to share the forgiveness we have already received. Sometimes, it just feels like too much. The wound is too raw or the memories too real. On those days, the best we can do is choose to want to forgive. And we ask God to help us. We ask God to help us so we can move forward and strive to forgive in the way Jesus so easily forgave.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, September 10, 2023
Our Gospel reading for this week emphasizes reconciliation. Our churches, communities, and society more broadly are absolutely infested with conflict. Learning to deal with it is a profoundly important part of what Jesus means when he says, “Take up your cross.” One reason Jesus emphasizes reconciliation is that conflict impacts the communities in which we move, not just those directly involved.
Do you find it especially easy to walk up to somebody who has hurt you and confront them about it? Or is it easier to go to a third party and rant? How many disagreements could be resolved if we just talked to each other more? Not all, but a lot of them. Jesus says, if that doesn’t work, involve other people. Start with two or three others. If that doesn’t work, go to the community. Going to the community means verifying our own perceptions. Maybe we’ve misunderstood what someone has done. The community could help the parties in conflict see events more clearly.
If all that doesn’t help, Jesus says treat this person as you would a Gentile or a tax collector. But here I think Jesus is being a little cheeky. The text implies that these difficult people can be excluded or ostracized. But how did Jesus deal with Gentiles and tax collectors? He healed the Canaanite woman just a few chapters back and called a tax collector to be a disciple!! He didn’t exclude anyone. The directive to be reconciled to each other means the door to forgiveness has to stay open even for Gentiles, tax collectors, and “other sinners.” At a time when people seem continuously at each other’s throats, let’s strive to be agents of reconciliation, forgiving others freely so that we might inspire others to do the same.
Peace, Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, September 3, 2023
What a difference a week makes! Last week, Peter’s conversation with Jesus got him blessed, named, and hand-picked to build Christ’s church. This week Peter’s a stumbling block and Satan! Talk about going from teacher’s pet to the doghouse! Peter objected to Jesus saying that he would be handed over to the religious establishment to be tortured and killed. It understandably upset Peter to think of Jesus being treated in this way.
I think the key to Jesus’ reaction lies in the words, “You are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” Peter wanted to preserve Jesus’ life, which is a very human instinct. However, Jesus came specifically to give his life away. Jesus gave away his life freely to show us what real love looks like. And, as much as we want to run from suffering and death, we’re expected to do the same thing: give our lives away. To take up your cross and follow means to spend your earthly life loving people without regard for social convention. To love people, especially those whom human society would throw away, despite what the neighbors or PTA or your friends and family say about it. This obligation to love does not depend on how easy it is or how comfortable it is for us. On the contrary, following Jesus will absolutely be uncomfortable. You may suffer for it. But that is what love requires.
Lest that sound gloomy to you, don’t do what Peter did and miss the most important thing Jesus said: “Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priest and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” After the suffering and death, there is a resurrection. There is life again and it is both abundant and eternal. We can never give it all away because eternal life means there is no end to it.
So let’s give our lives away in love and service to others. Let’s take up our cross. Let’s go where we’re not wanted. Let’s befriend people society says we should have nothing to do with. Let’s seek justice for everyone, even when it’s unpopular. Let’s pave the way to eternal life by giving so freely and completely of this one.
Peace, Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, August 27, 2023
In our Gospel lesson for this week, Jesus asks his disciples, “But who do you say that I am?” He doesn’t ask “Who am I?” because Jesus knows who he is and certainly doesn’t need the disciples to tell him. Instead, he asks “Who do you say that I am?” I think what Jesus is really asking is, “Who am I to you?”
And isn’t that a question we should be asking ourselves regularly? It’s a question that invites us to consider what is at the core of our being. It’s a way of asking who we are as believers. Is it Christ or something else?
It’s very easy, even understandable, that we allow other influences, good and bad, to occupy our centers and provide us with our bearing and stability from time to time. Maybe it’s family, a job you love, or the start of college football season. For some people, anger, fear, and/or grief can occupy the center.
So it’s important as believers that we check in with ourselves and periodically ask, “Who is Jesus for me today?” Do you look at your neighbors, especially those must unlike you or those whom you actively dislike, and feel inclined to love or something else? Do you find yourself leaning mostly towards hope or despair or something in between? Do you forgive people even when you don’t want to?
None of us will have a perfect record on these questions and others like them. We all move through seasons of life in which we are challenged to keep Jesus at the center. But answers to these questions (and others) can point to the need to re-center, to reorient ourselves toward Christ and the Gospel message.
So who is Jesus for you today?
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, August 20, 2023
This past weekend, I had the pleasure of leading the Men’s Retreat for St. Paul’s Episcopal Church (Newnan) at Camp Mikell. Our formal sessions on Saturday were focused on prayer and cultivating the ability to tell our spiritual autobiographies as a means to reach others. Many good ideas were exchanged and debated.
As I was preparing for Holy Eucharist on Sunday morning, I knew at a deep level that as important as the formal sessions and discussions we had were, more important was simply the time this group of people had spent together. This was the first time many of these men had done something like this since the pandemic began in 2020. What was really needed was simply to renew acquaintances. To reinforce the bonds that hold this group of men together and, by extension, that broader faith community to which they belong. You’ve heard personal trainers talk about “strengthening your core?” That’s what this felt like. These men would return to their community, spiritually refreshed and re-bonded, and ready to take up the work that God has called us all to do.
This same need exists across the entire Church, including here at Advent. The COVID-19 pandemic has done a number on this and most other churches. It is time – past time – that we start to do the work needed to rebuild our communities. It’s time to get to know each other again and re-engage with the ministries and work we are called to do in Madison and beyond.
So if you haven’t been to worship in person in a while, consider that it may be time to come home. If you haven’t participated in a ministry because you laid it down during the pandemic, it’s time to pick it up again. The Advent community needs you. We need you. Most importantly, God needs all of us to re-engage in the task of loving our neighbors in word and deed, inside the walls of this Church and outside them.
Peace, Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, August 13, 2023
In our reading from Romans this week, Paul asked his audience these poignant questions: “But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him?”
This text and others found in Scripture highlight a responsibility as a follower of Jesus that makes some of us uncomfortable: evangelism. Often we’re uncomfortable with the concept because we have been exposed to coercive forms of evangelism that don’t strike us as consistent with the love of God as we have experienced it. However, in the Episcopal Church, all members are ministers, and all ministers are called to be evangelists. The Book of Common Prayer says that the ministry of lay ministers in this Church is “…to represent Christ and his Church; to bear witness to him wherever they may be.” Can there be any doubt that this means we all have a responsibility to spread the Christian gospel?
The point is this: God will send people into your life who need to hear from you about how your interactions with Christ have changed your life. People will want to hear from you about those passages of Scripture that sustain you and give you hope. We must be ready for those moments.
So whether you call it evangelism or something else, we all need to work through our discomfort and be ready to share the love of Jesus directly with those people who need him.
Peace,
Mark+
Sermon Synopsys – Sunday, August 8, 2023
On Sunday, we celebrated the Feast of the Transfiguration of Our Lord Jesus Christ. In the well-known Gospel lesson for the day, we hear about how Jesus took Peter, James, and John with him up onto a mountain to pray. While there, Jesus’ face changed and his clothes became brilliantly white. For good measure, Moses and Elijah appeared and talked with Jesus about his plans for Jerusalem. And, finally, a voice from a cloud exclaimed, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”
Peter, James, and John were suitably impressed. So much so that Peter wanted to stay and build three dwellings for them there. In these moments, God made Jesus’ identity and divinity crystal clear to them. They absolutely knew that they had been in God’s presence. You could understand why they might want to stay.
What does that mean for us? I think it means that as much as we want to stay on the mountaintop, our responsibility lies in the valleys. I don’t believe transfiguration was a one-time event. No doubt many of us can recall occasions when we have felt the presence of God tangibly and up close. In those transfiguration moments, it’s tempting to want to stay there, stay on the mountaintop, and stay in communion with God.
As powerful as they are, I believe transfiguration moments are ultimately about reminding us who God is and who we are. They are meant to remind us of the work each of us is called to do. And that work doesn’t lie on a remote mountaintop. It lies in the valleys where the people are, where justice, peace, and love are lacking.
So while having an up-close experience of God’s presence is deeply moving and transformative, in the end, it should prompt us to climb down from the mountain, as Jesus, Peter, James, and John did, and return the work of sharing Christ’s love with a world that desperately needs it.
Peace,
Mark+