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Homily delivered on November 18, 2020 at the mid-week Public Service of Healing, with featured Saint: St. Hilda of Whitby, at Saint Andrews Episcopal Church, Princess Anne, Maryland.

Ephesians 4: 1-6; Psalm 122; Matthew 19: 27-29

When I realized I was going to preach on St. Hilda of Whitby, I am pretty sure I screeched like a school girl.  As referenced in my bio that was emailed before I came aboard, I look to St. Francis of Assisi for guidance and inspiration.  St. Hilda is next on the list.  And really, she probably should be first on my list, simply in light of what she accomplished, as a woman, especially at the time she did, because of what female clergy still currently face at times, regardless of denomination.

St. Hilda of Whitby was one of the great lights of the early Anglo-Saxon church in Britain.  According to the book History written by St. Bede the Venerable, which is the principal source of her life, she was the great niece of St. Edwin, King of Northumbria.  With the rest of her family she was baptized by St. Paulinus when she was thirteen.  Bede wrote, “She spent thirty-three years most nobly in secular occupations” before deciding to “serve God alone.”  As a nun Hilda spent time in a number of monasteries in East Anglia before returning home to found a new monastery at Whitby.  This would remain her home for the rest of her life, and under her leadership it would become an important center for the spread and consolidation of the Christian faith in England.

Whitby was a double monastery – that is, one comprising both men and women who lived separately but gathered together to chant the office.  In the tradition of Celtic monasticism, in which Hilda was formed, it was not unusual for a woman to preside over such a mixed community.  As its shepherd, Hilda set a standard for holiness, wisdom, and scholarship, promoting through her example of “the observance of righteousness, mercy, purity, and other virtues, but especially in peace and charity.”  She promoted the study of the Scriptures and the thorough education of the clergy.  Bede observes that in her monastery “no one there was rich or poor, for everything was held in common, and none possessed any personal property.”

Hilda also served as a spiritual director, serving not only her monastic children but the wider community.  “So great was her prudence that not only ordinary folk, but kings and princes used to come and ask her advice in their difficulties.” 

Five of her monks went on to become bishops.  She was also influential in encouraging the gifts of another saint, St. Caedmon, a cowherd and subsequent ‘discovered’ poet who became a monk of Whitby.

As a reflection of the prestige of Whitby, the monastery was chosen as the site for the important church synod of 664.  The synod was called, ostensibly, to resolve disagreements about the correct day for observing Easter.  But this issue was symptomatic of deeper tensions between those favoring the Roman model of authority, rooted in the male dominated episcopal hierarchy, and those inclined to the more monastic model characteristic of the Celtic church.  Hilda favored the latter, but the synod decided otherwise.

Hilda’s last years were spent in painful illness; apparently, she had a high fever for the final 7 years of her life.  But that didn’t stop her from her work.  She never retired from her office nor did she ever fail to give thanks to God.  By her own example she instructed her flock “to serve God rightly when in health, and render thanks to him faithfully when in trouble or bodily weakness.”  Her last counsel to her community was to “maintain the gospel peace among yourselves and with others.”  She died on November 17, 680.

She epitomized the life worthy of the calling as outlined by Paul in today’s selection from Ephesians.  In light of today’s Gospel passage noting that those who have left homes, brothers or sisters, father or mother, or children for the Lord’s sake, will inherit eternal life, it is interesting that Bede wrote: “All that knew her called her Mother.”

In light of St. Hilda’s loving humility and her approach towards possessions and what today we’d call class distinctions, it is unfortunate we don’t have Matthew’s immediately preceding verses before verse 27 AND the inclusion of verse 30.  What we have today is the ending of the parable of the rich young man (Matthew 19: 16-30).  The rich young man asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus first incredulously replied about asking “what is good” and that “if you wish to enter life, keep the commandments.”  And of course, the man’s response, ‘which ones?’ I can actually imagine Jesus rolling his eyes here but he answers about not committing murder, or adultery, or stealing, bearing false witness, honoring parents and loving neighbor as yourself. Now I imagine the rich young man being incredulous in return:  but I do all of this, what else?

And we get yet another impossible command: If you wish to be perfect, Jesus says, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven and then after that, then and only then, you come follow me.  The rich young man upon hearing this, walked away “grieving” no doubt with tale tucked between his legs because we’re told “he had many possessions.” 

Ouch!  But Jesus isn’t finished.  He then continues, talking directly to the disciples and explains that it was easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.  It is only after that we today join Peter’s disheartened plea of ‘well, come on now, we left everything to join you, what the heck are we going to get in return?!’ And after we have Jesus’s response, we don’t have verse 30, which formally ends this discourse: But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.

We’re told this man is young.  Although youth is not an encumbrance to discipleship, wealth is apparently is seen as such in this story.  Wealth was a traditional topic for sages, which is what we see in the book of Proverbs, but here we have another example of Jesus’s counterorder wisdom which suggests that, rather than being a sign of blessing, wealth can actually be a hindrance to proper discipleship.  The command before Peter’s heartfelt plea is to sell all possessions, give the proceeds to the poor, and then and only then, follow Jesus.  Let’s think this through.

Liquidation of assets permits greater mobility and the ability to join the traveling fellowship of disciples (see Luke 8:1-3).  A rich person then is said to be able to enter God’s realm or eternal life only by God’s grace.  In all cases, salvation is a divine action, not a human one.  The theme of heavenly, or eschatological, reward is also a regular one in wisdom literature.  So, Jesus is assuring Peter that there are such rewards in the kingdom for those who have made sacrifices.  Jesus the sage foresees a day of remarkable reversal of fortunes when the last, least, despised, those ratted upon, spat upon and lost, will become the first, most, and found.  Those who are among the elite in this world will also suffer a reversal of fortune.

And this is why I wanted to provide the entire context for today’s Gospel selection, especially verse 30: But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.

For our modern context, I think this should be our ‘target.’  Several of you are getting to me know me, and you know I am a hug Star Wars fan.  And so, to bring in a Star Wars reference: stay on target.  Wealth per se is not a sin.  But how do we view our wealth in relation to others (see James 2: 1-13), and what do we do with our wealth. And to be clear, wealth is not just about money.  Think back to what I spoke about Sunday, and my encouragement for us not to bury our talents, our gifts, and that discipleship is to share those abundantly for the kingdom of God.

Now we cannot totally relate to St. Hilda, since she was enclosed in a monastery, living in a community, with communal possessions and a communal purse, while engaging the world. We are in the world. But can you just imagine having a high fever for 7 straight years and yet getting up, every day, praising God, serving God rightly, giving thanks to him faithfully while in bodily weakness? 

May we be deeply grateful for the gifts we have received and seek to share our bounty with those in need, for all those who live on the margins – whether the poor, the underprivileged, the migrant, the sick, our homeless veterans, those wrestling with drug addiction.  May their needs be met through just structures and the loving kindness of those around them.

Let us pray a prayer written in St. Hilda’s honor:

O God of peace, by whose grace the abbess Hilda was

endowed with gifts of justice, prudence, and strength to

rule as a wise mother over the nuns and monks of her

household, and to become a trusted and reconciling friend

to leaders of the Church: Give us the grace to recognize

and accept the varied gifts you bestow on men and

women, that our common life may be enriched and your

gracious will be done; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who

lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God,

now and forever.

Amen.

Homily delivered on October 25, 2020 at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, Princess Anne, Maryland

1 Thessalonians 2: 1-8; Psalm 1; Matthew 22:34-36

This morning we join Jesus at the end of a long series of debates and challenges he was subjected to by a variety of groups.  I do not want to diminish the importance and seriousness of the moment, especially since not soon afterwards, some within these groups actively plan to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him (Matthew 26: 3-4).  But I have to admit; I had a bit of a chuckle when I, a former lawyer recently ordained deacon beginning a new ministry, first reviewed this morning’s readings: and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him.  “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?”

…. Oh, we lawyers just can’t seem to get a break. Though, to be fair, while we refer to lawyers as someone trained to represent people before a secular court, in the Bible, and with today’s selection, ‘lawyer’ had what we today would call a religious connotation.  This person was undoubtedly an expert and scholar of Mosaic law or the codified system of rules and regulations meant to govern Israel in God’s ways as the nation lived in the Promised Land.

And it was these rules and regulations that Jesus routinely had to address during his ministry.  While the bulletin indicates the Gospel reading is from Luke, it’s actually from Matthew 22:34-46 and I’d like to note that Matthew’s gospel is the most Jewish of the gospels.  What I mean by that is Matthew was written when there was still a living relationship between Jesus’ followers and the Jewish community.  There is considerable concern for the observance of the commandments and Mosaic law.  Indeed, a famous, uniquely Matthean sentence even says that none of the law will pass away until all is accomplished (5:18).  In short, this Gospel seems to be written by and for a community of Jesus’ followers who were overwhelmingly Jewish, not only in terms of ethnicity but also in orientation and patterns of daily living.  And that way of living emphasized wisdom for believing and living a godly life.  The Evangelist has skillfully woven together his source material to produce a compelling portrait of Jesus as both sage and Wisdom itself, as both the revealer of God and Immanuel (“God with us”).

And in Matthew’s rendition, we see this, with Jesus demonstrating he’s cleverer than his adversaries.  And with today’s selection, Jesus ‘gives it right back’ to the Pharisees when he questions them about the messiah and his relationship to David, by quoting Psalm 110.  They are stumped and finally silenced.

But, before the silencing, we have that dreaded lawyer: ‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’  Jesus’ answer fits well with his teaching on the Law or Torah across Matthew. Jesus has already demonstrated that right interpretation of the Torah must view all God’s commands through the lens of the weightier matters of the Torah consisting of justice, mercy, and faithfulness (23:23). Jesus previously cited Hosea 6:6 (Matthew 9:13 and 12:7), emphasizing mercy as central to reading and obeying the Torah. And he has highlighted love of neighbor as the pinnacle command of the Torah (5:43-48). So, keeping in mind the background of Matthew with it being ‘the most Jewish’ of the Gospels, we should not be surprised by Jesus’ quoting Deuteronomy 6:5 (love God with all of your heart) and Leviticus 19:18 (love your neighbor as yourself) as the greatest of commands upon which “all the law and the prophets” hang (22:37-40).

The ancient rabbis put it in similar terms: “What is hateful to you do not do to your neighbor. That is the whole Law.”  Too many times I hear broad brush descriptions of Jesus as a rule breaker or that he wouldn’t agree with organized religion today.  Matthew would push back. 

The Evangelist bends over backwards to demonstrate Jesus is the one who not only rightly interprets the Torah but as one who commands adherence to even its finest points (see Matthew 5:17-20; I have come not to abolish the law but to fulfill; he encourages people to go further than say the Pharisees and Mosaic law by extending ‘thou shall not murder’ to include an injunction against being angry with fellow believers in Matthew 5:21-26). Jesus’ greatest critique of the Pharisees is not their desire to keep the Torah in its smallest detail but their tendency to fall short on obedience to central values of the Torah (See Matthew 23:23).

The message today then emphasizes that the Torah is rightly understood when it is read through the central lens of love for God and love for neighbor (with even enemies considered neighbors; Matthew 5:43-44). While this truth is not difficult to understand or to preach on its face, embodying love for God and love for others is the greatest of challenges. The sheer breadth of these two commands makes obedience to them a lifelong effort. The all-inclusive reach of these two commandments might be best coupled with some very practical examples of love.  Since Jesus quoted Leviticus 19 with “you shall love your neighbor as yourself” let’s go back to Leviticus 19 to see just exactly how someone loves their neighbor.  A person who loves his or her neighbor:

• Will not reap the fields bare, but will leave some for the poor (vv. 9-10).
• Will not steal (v. 11).
• Will not deal falsely (v. 11).
• Will not lie (v. 11).
• Will not swear falsely by God’s name (v. 12).
• Will not defraud a neighbor (v. 13).
• Will not keep a laborer’s wages overnight (v. 13).
• Will not “revile the deaf or put a stumbling block before the blind” (v. 14).
• Will not render an unjust judgment (v. 15).
• Will not be partial to the poor or defer to the great (v. 15).
• Will judge the neighbor with justice (v. 15).
• Will not engage in slander (v. 16).
• Will not profit by the blood of the neighbor (v. 16).
• Will not hate your neighbor (v. 17).
• Will not take vengeance or bear a grudge (v. 18).

• Will rise before the aged, and defer to the old (v. 32)

.• Will not oppress an alien for the alien is to be as a citizen, loving the alien as yourself (33-34).

These verses make it clear that the love of which Leviticus and Jesus speak is different from the warm emotion that we think of as love. Another example to look at is Matthew 25: 31-46 which also demonstrates Biblical love is instead, a way of acting in relationship to our neighbor.  But our culture has equated love with intense emotion. To love is a stronger response than to like. We like chocolate: you can unlock my heart with chocolate peanut butter. We just cannot help ourselves. We love a movie: it entertains or moves us. We love a boy or girlfriend: they make us happy. We love a spouse: they complete us. All are measures of a passive response to something outside us.

Biblical love, however, is not passive and it is not strictly emotional. However, we should not forget the times Jesus is moved with compassion. But the love referred to today by Jesus is the active response of the faithful person to the love of God.  In turn, God’s love is also active. God chooses to love Israel above all nations and to bring his love through this chosen people. To love God with all one’s heart, and soul, and mind, is to choose to respond to God even as God chooses to love us. Feelings and emotions do not enter into the equation.

It refers to what can be called loving-kindness. It is not reactive emotion, but active mercy. It is marked by patience and generosity.  In short, Biblical love is a choice, not a feeling. 

Which is helpful because to love God with all our heart, mind, and soul seems nearly impossible when we think of love as an emotion. How does one conjure up feelings for something as remote, mysterious, and disembodied as the concept of God? We cannot look into God’s eyes, wrap our arms around the Spirit, or even see the face of Jesus.  But we are commanded to love an intangible God. Perhaps you may feel like a failure in feeling a deep, abiding affection for a God who is often distant and unknown. I’ve certainly have had my moments of well, being angry at and with God.  Nonetheless, to love God is our duty as Christians.

Likewise, loving our neighbor is difficult. If love is merely our passive response to the person next to us, we are likely to be more indifferent than moved to love. How can one legitimately look into the face of an enemy and feel unqualified love? It is nearly impossible.

Biblical love is something we do. It is merciful action that is both generous and continuous. And that is truly the good news for us as Christian people! A martyred Catholic Sister once said: “Believing in Jesus is believing in humanity, and that is, I believe, the great challenge of our time.” To love neighbor as oneself is to act toward the other as one would act toward those close to you. We treat the stranger as well as we treat those that we love emotionally.

Interestingly Leviticus 19 also says “You shall surely rebuke your neighbor” (v. 17), suggesting that love is tough where toughness is needed—or, at times love is to be confrontational so that wrongs might be righted and obstacles to relationships can be removed.  And while not readily apparent, this is partly Paul’s message in this morning’s lesson. 

Although Paul is writing as the founder of the community, the characteristics he upholds are to be reflected in each and every one of the members of the community, not just their leaders. These perhaps can be described as “characteristics of community builders,” and each one of us is such a community builder by our very participation in the Christian community.

As Episcopalians our language is different, but the concept is the same. I encourage you to scroll through our Catechism which begins on page 845 of the Book of Common Prayer, paying particular attention to page 855 with the label The Ministry and its first question: Who are the ministers of the Church? The ministers of the Church are lay persons, bishops, priests and deacons. 

Keeping that in mind (did you catch that lay people are referenced first?) the first characteristic Paul describes is speaking boldly.  Unfortunately, we have lost this with the translation to English.  He traces some history for the Thessalonians, reminding them that when he and his companions first arrived at Thessalonica they had recently spent a tumultuous time at Philippi (Acts 16). Nevertheless, while at Thessalonica, Paul and his companions “had courage … to declare to you the gospel of God” (v. 2). In writing this, Paul uses the Greco-Roman philosophical concept of “bold speech.” This expression was used in antiquity to indicate freedom of speech and courage to speak in the face of opposition.  Paul’s expression draws upon the tradition of a type of speech which is characteristic of ancient philosophers. 

When we are community builders, or ministers, we need to speak boldly and “tell it like it is.” Often the easier route is to avoid conflict and allow things to carry on as always. Yet, to truly build community, the gospel message−the love of God and the love of neighbor−must be proclaimed boldly. To be fearless in speaking out, when one notes moral laxity or the abuse of power taking place within the Christian community, will lead to true community.

We have entered into a covenant to do this.  I encourage you to spend time with the Baptismal Covenant, which we affirm from to time to time, mostly at baptisms. “Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ? – I will, with God’s help. Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself? I will with God’s help.”

The second characteristic Paul highlights is personal integrity when he talks about God’s testing.  In Jewish scriptures, God’s testing is a frequent theme and we see that with Jesus’s sojourn into the wilderness before he begins his public ministry.  But I want to move on and conclude with Paul’s third characteristic of community: being a soul sharer.  True community is built upon openness and sharing. We need to open up, to be vulnerable, and to share with those around us.  

Proclaiming the Gospel of loving God and neighbor- requires us to not only share what we know, but how we strive to live what we know and the failings and doubts we have encountered along the way. The images that Paul uses are of a nurse tending to young children (2:7) and later, just beyond today’s selection, a parent, who pleads with them to live a life worthy of God (2:12).

What have we learned on our own journeys of faith that would make us trustworthy guides to others? To what degree do we need to let others discover their own paths? As they do so, what gifts of knowledge, faith, and insight might they return to us if we are willing to receive them?

Let us pray:

God of Light, shine on us; 

God of Peace, dwell in us; 

God of Might, protect us;

God of Love, enfold us;

God of Wisdom, enlighten us. 

Let us go out as your witnesses

to share the good news of your love

Amen.

Message shared at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Eleventh Sunday After Pentecost, Morning Prayer, Sunday August 25, 2019

Readings: Psalm 71: 1-6; Jeremiah 1: 4-10; Hebrews 12: 18-29; Luke 13: 10-17

….Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.  Amen (Psalm 19, NRSV).

“For indeed our God is a consuming fire”…well that’s a comforting thought, ‘eh? But let’s be honest, discipleship can certainly feel like that at times, as we muddle about in life, loving God and neighbor.  Case in point, allow me to share a misery of mine from this past week because misery seeks company, right?

As many of you know, I unexpectedly began living here, in Salisbury, just about five years ago. I help my mother care for her partner of 38 years, who has advanced dementia and congestive heart failure. While 90 years old, recently, she has been staying up beyond when mother and I go to bed, watching the Game Show network.  She just loves Steve Harvey and Family Feud.  Because of medical issues I have, I am quite committed to getting to bed at a certain time.  So, I was happily snug as a bug in a rug in my bed, for just over an hour, when all of a sudden, a loud noise and bright light jolts me awake.  With heart racing, I open my eyes and can just make out the door had been opened, with the annoyingly bright hallway light pouring in.  My attention is quickly drawn to a dark figure hovering over me.  The figure starts frantically exclaiming: “I can’t turn off the tv! The remote isn’t working!”  Sadly, I can’t tell you I was the epitome of St. Francis, because my first thought was ‘could you not see I was sleeping, you know, the closed door, darkened room, me under the sheets…no?’

I gather my senses and realize that the noise was her walker banging against the door as she was opening it.  So, I get up and try to respond in an assuring way, and tell her let’s see what’s happening.  I pass her, and head out the door, take a couple of steps and my right -sockless- foot is consumed and sinks in something wet, cold, and…well chunky.  Evidently, our 15-year-old dog had thrown up after I had gone to bed.

So, you can no doubt just imagine my posture, and thoughts, as I am still trying to wake up and still trying to gather my senses.

And of course, the issue wasn’t with the remote itself; she was simply using the wrong remote.  But, with dementia, anything out of the ordinary can be considered -and felt- as catastrophic, so once the t.v. was turned off, she calmed down.  And we both went to bed, which, for her culminated in another sound, restful, peaceful night.  And for me, – after cleaning my foot- I had a restless night, with deep sleep hard to resume or come by.

So…one of us, was restored; healed?  Well, with dementia, at least temporarily; that particular moment’s distress and anguish had indeed been alleviated.  And the other…wounded?  By dog vomit? Subsequent lack of sleep, with a sluggish day that followed?

…..Healing. Restoration. Renewal.  With today’s Gospel, we are again reminded that a great portion of Christ’s time was dedicated to healing and curing. We know the stories well.  We know he healed all kinds of people: the blind, the paralyzed, the lame, the deaf, lepers, those who had fevers, many with chronic illnesses.

In fact, earlier in Luke’s Gospel, we learn that John the Baptist sent two messengers to Jesus. They were tasked to ask him whether he was the one who is to come, or whether they were to wait for another. Luke specifically points out that Jesus had just cured many people of diseases, plagues, evil spirits and had given sight to many who were blind.  Jesus responds: “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news brought to them.  And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me” (Luke 7: 18-23 NRSV).

Again, we know these stories well.  Perhaps too well; unfortunately, to our detriment.  We can’t possibly relate to the people observing or personally experiencing these healings nor do I think we can relate to the exhilaration that Luke’s initial target audience must have experienced when hearing about the healings during those first initial years the gospel was shared. Imagine this incredible newness; the awe; the wonder.  Perhaps feelings of…renewal?

We know the woman in the synagogue is healed, on the sabbath.  We know Jesus chastises the hypocrisy of the synagogue leader.  Don’t try Jesus’s patience, on the sabbath of all days! But, do we know to read verses 18-21, in conjunction with this healing episode?  Those four additional verses are other well-known stories: the parable of the mustard seed and the parable of the yeast.

When you get to a Bible, I encourage you to spend time with not only today’s Gospel, but also verses 18-21.  Because it’s clearly Luke’s intent that those parables go with the synagogue healing story, with a ‘therefore’ in verse 18 and an ‘again’ in verse 20.  ‘Therefore’ and ‘again’ are words that tie the story of Jesus healing the woman to his parables of what the kingdom of God is like (see Pervasiveness and Persistence by The Rev. William L. Ogburn, The Anglican Digest, Summer 2019, Vol. 61 No. 2).

And parables, in short, are tangible and engaging analogies that challenge us to encounter reality in a fresh way; parables are central to the way Jesus proclaims God’s reign (ibid p. 38). And when Jesus shares a parable, he is asking us to enter into the scene and to imagine ourselves there (ibid p. 39).

Let’s then briefly focus on the parable of the mustard seed, keeping in mind, it’s connected and tied to today’s Gospel story of the disabled woman who Jesus healed on the sabbath: He said therefore, “What is the kingdom of God like?  And to what should I compare it?  It is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in the garden; it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air made nests in its branches” (Luke 13: 18-19 NRSV).

I’m not a gardener. And let’s just say I wouldn’t encourage any of you to ask me to look after any house plants you have should you be gone for an extended period of time.  But on the occasions that I have had the opportunity to accompany friends or family to any type of gardening type store or farm, I look at seeds, in awe and wonder – these tiny little seeds – knowing that if properly cultivated, it’ll – transform – into not only something bigger with totally different dimensions, but will bear a totally different character from a little seed.  A truly living entity.

We of course know that for that transformation from tiny seed to a full-grown tree, capable of hosting a bird nest, takes time.  And usually, as time passes, additional assistance is needed, whether rain from the sky, or other human endeavors to foster growth.  And then just imagine standing under that tree, consumed in its shade on a hot, hot day; you’re looking up, and seeing the birds of the air taking advantage of that full-grown tree.  Perhaps those birds, shall we say, plant little seedlings of their own (baby birds).  Oh, if those birds could talk, they’d probably be extremely grateful for the shelter and protection that nest provides, saving them from the elements and most predators.

Remember, the parable of the mustard seed is the first that Jesus shares to the synagogue leader, after he heals the disabled woman.  Therefore, the seed sapling to full grown tree, where the birds are eventually saved from toil and care, and where we can perhaps be renewed in its shade during a hot day, is like the kingdom of God.  Once planted, the living tree blossoms.

I find myself back in that synagogue.  I am imagining how that woman will blossom, after 18 long years of suffering.  Jesus saved her from further physical misery.  The birds in our tree are saved from discomfort.  Jesus saves.  That, and Jesus is the way to salvation, unfortunately has become a loaded phrase in our culture, with both being weaponized way too many times.

Interestingly, the Latin root of the word ‘salvation’ or salvus literally means…healed. Christian philosopher and Lutheran theologian Paul Tillich wrote on this and explains that healing perhaps can mean a reunion with God, a reunion with God’s purpose for the world, a reunion with God’s purpose for our lives.   Salvation then is much more than simply not dying but it has to do with truly living.  And how do we truly live?  By letting go.  By letting go of that which is not ours to begin with: control. We did nothing to create or own our life, it’s a gift and we can do nothing to preserve or save it (see Saving by Rev. Aaron Houghton, March 16, 2018).

The woman had 18 long years of crippling misery.  My mother’s partner has no control over the literal loss of her memory.  The woman was cured; alas, my mother’s partner probably won’t be.  But she’s still saved.  St John tells us that we, whether encumbered by illness or not, are saved because God saves us – heals us- by loving us.  And God wants to be in relationship with us, right here, right now, even when we stray from God’s purpose.  Jesus reminds us that God is God of the living, not of the dead (Mark 12: 18-27, NRSV). We in turn, of course love God, but we can’t just stop there.  We love God, by turning towards Christ, and by loving and being in right relationship with our neighbor (see Saving by Rev. Aaron Houghton, March 16, 2018; see 1 John 4: 7-12, NRSV).  St. Ambrose of Milan reminds us that no one heals themselves by wounding another.

We also heard this morning Jeremiah’s call.  While not many of us receive a prophet’s call, we can look to a portion of Jeremiah’s call for guidance and strength as we pray on our vocation: consecration, insecurity, building up and planting.  God knows us too.  At baptism, we are consecrated for service to the Lord. This community does a mighty fine job building each other up.  And what about planting?  Where is God calling you to plant?  Where is God calling St. Albans to plant?

……Your kingdom come; your will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven.  Yes, the woman is healed and therefore, remember, the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in the garden; it grew and became a tree.  To put it another way, think of it, not as God in the world…but the world in God.

Where is God calling you to heal?  Did you think of yourself as a healer prior to today?  Grant it, while Christ dwells in us (Romans 8: 9-11, NRSV), most of us will not be graced with beyond human ability to tenderly touch someone and immediately cure a devastating, physical ailment.  But I join you if you’re having doubts or feeling insecure as Jeremiah felt when he comprehended what God had in mind. ‘Healer’ would not be the first word I’d use to describe my character or essence.

A seed and a tree is one thing; it would sure be nice to have a blueprint wouldn’t it?  Even assuming everyone outside these walls were Christian, and we find ourselves in the midst of a Christian society, suffering is simply part of the human experience.  How can we heal being wounded ourselves, with the multitude of burdens we carry?

Poet T.S. Eliot addressed this.  He used in one of his greatest poems an image of the wounded surgeon: the surgeon who operates on the sick person but is himself bleeding, wounded, and suffering. This is the Christ-image, which, yes, is stark and shocking as the crucifixion should be stark and shocking had we not become…well, do I dare say, dull to it in many ways.  Calvary is our blue print (see The Crown and the Fire: Meditations on the Cross and the Life of the Spirit by N.T. Wright, p. 110).

Christ carried the burden of God’s consuming fire throughout his ministry: misunderstanding, from family and the disciples, long days, weary nights, combative conversations, to betrayal and eventually a battered, broken body, nailed to a cross.  We proclaim Christ crucified, whose weakness is far greater than our strength (see 1 Corinthians 1:23-25 NRSV).  But the cross is empty.  The good news remains; awe and wonder does too…with us.

Which means, we, as wounded healers, have a job to do on this side of the kingdom, not just within our families and this congregation, but beyond these walls and in the community.  And the time is now.  Trees do take time to grow; no time like the present to plant that little seed.

What would this look like?  Well, in Eucharistic Prayer C we are reminded that we are not to go the Table solely for solace or pardon but for strength and renewal. So, I encourage folks to consider becoming a Eucharistic visitor.  Talk to —— about training opportunities.  You can be commissioned to take the sacrament to members who are unable to be at worship.  Also, pay attention to the monthly Herald and the community corner, where ——, —— and I have been highlighting local opportunities or places to serve – to heal- the Christ in others.  We are part of the city of the living God; sustained by God since our birth.  May we, with God’s help, seek to sustain others within the city.

Almighty God, give to us and all your people such a vision of your love, and such an understanding of the needs of our society, that we may be the means of bringing the two together, to the glory of your name and the healing of your world: through the fire of your Spirit and in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen (The Crown and the Fire: Meditations on the Cross and the Life of the Spirit by N.T. Wright, p. 117).