Showing posts with label Christ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christ. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

Sermon: Prize

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Pentecost 16, Year C
The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse,
Director of the Whitaker Institute,
Episcopal Diocese of Michigan
Sermon for September 8, 2019
Preached at St. Michael’s Episcopal Church
Grosse Pointe Woods, MI

Text here
May the words of my mouth
and the meditation of all our hearts
be acceptable to you,
O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen

Good morning, St. Michaels!
What joy to be with you again.
My name is The Rev. Vicki Hesse
and I serve as the Director of the Whitaker Institute,
the educational arm of the Diocese. 
It is my honor to be with you today,
thank you for the invitation!
~~~~~~~~
This Gospel text today
does not seem like the kind of thing
that would pass for
an effective marketing message in today’s world. 

Come to the church!  Woohoo!
Hate your father and mother! 
Pick up your cross! 
This is the kind of thing
that could be trending on the TV show The List:
Ten Reasons Not To Be A Disciple of Jesus:
10. You have to hate your family.
9. You have to love your neighbor. 
[As the t-shirt says, “thy homeless neighbor, thy muslim neighbor, thy black neighbor, thy gay neighbor, thy immigrant neighbor, thy Jewish neighbor, thy Christian neighbor, thy atheist neighbor, thy addicted neighbor….”]
The smelly neighbor, the annoying neighbor,
…you get it.
8. You have to pray unceasingly, give thanks in all things, and with fear and trembling (Thanks, St. Paul).
7. You have to be last to be first
6. You have to be the servant of all the others.
5. You have to listen to understand rather than being understood.
4. You have to want to share your feelings, and that means talking to people you don’t know.
3. You have to give up all your possessions.
2. You have to carry a cross.
1. The number one reason not to be a disciple?
You have to sacrifice your life
and everything you love.
Who wants to sign up?  Because this is hard work!
Nope, this is not a marketing message
that would be the least bit attractive in our society.
Which is kind of the point, here. 
Jesus wanted to be clear
with the “large crowds” that were following him. 
He said:
Sit down, estimate the cost.
See if you have what it takes, he said,
to complete what you started. 
Sit down, consider this:
are able to oppose what stands between
you and abundant life? 
Are you ready to give up all your “possessions”?

My guess is that after Jesus described
what it would really take to be a disciple,
that large crowd traveling with him
might have dwindled, a bit. 
Jesus sharpened the paradox
between loving the world and loving God
almost to the point of contradiction.[1] 
Like usual, he provoked the crowd.
That they take stock. 
That they realize the depth of their feelings for this world.
That they let go of their
white-knuckle grip on the world as they knew it.
That they confront and expose to question
what they have always held dear:
family, friends, respect, winning. 

That they face the many little deaths as life dealt them.
And so he asked them, in not so many words,
do you know what you are getting into?”

I mean, do we know what we are getting into?

Think about your baptism. 
Did you know what you were getting into? 
Did you have some inkling
about what it meant to be a disciple of Jesus? 

So, a story:
I was baptized as an adult. 
My friend Lynn was getting baptized
for his 50th birthday.
Witnessing his baptism
at this little Episcopal church I had started attending,
the thought occurred to me,
why can’t I be baptized too? 

So at the next available baptism Sunday,  January 6th, 2000,
I was baptized. 
Did I know what I was getting into?
Nope.
No one showed me the caution tape
around the baptismal font.  
No one turned on the neon lights
about the cost of discipleship.  
No colleague parishioner cautioned me
about transformation.
All of that was glossed over by my own blindness… 
My eye was on the prize:
The love of God that surpasses all understanding.
The surprise of grace that drenched me with joy.
The liberation from shame driven by job loss.
The salve of healing from wounds of addiction.
The forgiveness for broken relationships.
The relief of pretense of living as a heterosexual person.
The life-giving realization that this new family,
this faith community,
would have my back forEVER.

But I didn’t really know what I was getting into.

Dietrich Bonheoffer[2],
in “The Cost of Discipleship,”
reminds us that,
“Through the call of Jesus,
[we] become individuals and
each [of us] must stand before Jesus
and fix our eyes on him. 
When Christ calls,
he delivers each person
from the immediacy of the world and
to the immediacy of Christ.  … 
This is no slow growth.
This is no progressive sanctification. 
From the call of Christ (our baptism)
There is no turning back.”

Do you know what you are getting into?

The crowds were following, and
Jesus turned.  Jesus “turned”
– in other words,
he changed his perspective
as a human
and took on God’s loving stance.
He taught them. 
Jesus turned and
showed the large crowds the caution tape.  
He flipped on the neon lights.
He cautioned about discipleship.   
You really want to follow me? 
Okay, here goes, he says. 
And he outlined the cost of discipleship
“that can demand leaving home and family
and all those whom the disciple naturally loves best.
Because Jesus himself had left the home which he loved.”[3]
And here, in this cautionary teaching,
he demanded then and he demands now
the “hating” of those people and possessions
(hate as “putting distance between”)
whom the disciple (we) loves most
– so as to love God in Jesus the most. 
For the prize.
He had his sights on the prize.  
“Jesus is inviting us to a full-bodied Christian faith
that stands over and against all those things
that are often presented to us as “life” by our society”[4]
as what makes for success: accumulation, reputation,
and security ”[5]

See, Jesus turned, and he showed them, loved them and
reminded them
over and over
about the caution tape
since the beginning of his ministry. 
And this is why Jesus mades his own sacrifice,
of course,
so that it need not be about our choices
or our willingness, even. 

Because Jesus assures us of God’s love and forgiveness. 
Because God’s promise of life is always in front of us.
And God’s unconditional love
frees us to be a disciple with grace. 
Because God’s love endures for ever. 
Because God’s love is stronger than death. 
Because nothing, “…neither death, nor life, nor angels,
nor rulers, …, nor powers, …, nor anything else in all creation,
will be able to separate us
from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”[6]

…. And in turning, Jesus reminded them
and us
that in “becoming a disciple,”
you will know, and he promised,
God’s ever faithful love.
That love will set you free.
That love will lighten your load.
That love will cost you your “life.”

Remember, at our baptism
we renounce Satan, the spiritual forces of wickedness,
the evil powers of the world and sinful desires.

And we turn to Jesus Christ – as he turned to us –
and we accept him as our Savior,
putting our whole trust in his grace and love
and promising to follow and obey him.

So in our baptism, it is,
as Bonhoeffer wrote,
a “fait accompli with Christ and in Christ,”
that we live a Way of Love. 
And in this Way of Love,
we become a new family,
a new community,
a new people. 
So in this fellowship,
we live with the promise and guarantee
of the love of God for EVER. 

By the grace of God and the work of Jesus Christ,
we too live in a new fellowship.
With God’s help, we can give up all our possessions. 
With God’s help, we can make the sacrifice that is love.

For Love is one thing that only grows when it is given away. 

Turn today, my siblings in Jesus and accept that call.
You do know what you are getting into.

God knows what you are getting into.
And, it is a fait accompli that Jesus will use you.
Jesus will take your life, your love, your all. 

That’s the prize of discipleship.
Amen




[1] Alan Richardson, A Theological Word Book of the Bible, p.102
[2] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship, (New York, Simon and Schuster, 1937, First Touchstone Edition 1995) p. 94-101
[3] Ibid.
[4] David Lose, “Life-giving Sacrifice” cited here on September 6, 2019
[5] Ibid.
[6] Romans 8:38-39

Sunday, December 23, 2018

Sermon: Jump for Joy!


Image on Pixabay from Creative Commons

Fourth Sunday of Advent, Year C

The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse,

Director of the Whitaker Institute,

Episcopal Diocese of Michigan

St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, Detroit, MI

Sermon Preached on December 23, 2018



May the words of my mouth and

the meditation of all our hearts

be acceptable in your sight,

O Lord our strength and our redeemer.



Did you hear that? The child leaped for joy!



When I was growing up,

with five siblings, my momma used to say,

“You kids go outside and play!”  

Sometimes we would

go out to the edge of

the canyon behind our house and yell –

listening for the echo back to us. 

Oh, we laughed, screamed, and giggled.

My mother would have none of this at home. 

Once we got back, we held our tongue.

We were taught not to be too revealing. 

We were courteous. We were quiet. 

It was not okay to be overtly

expressive in our joy or laughter.



So when I read about

Elizabeth’s child leaping for joy

at the sound of Mary’s greeting,

it made me a little uncomfortable

due to my complicated relationship

with expressed joy.



Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and

she blessed Mary with a loud cry.

Such uncontained extroverted outward expression! 



These days, living in Detroit,

my neighbors yell at me from three houses down the street,

“HEY” they wave,

“HEY GREAT TO SEE YOU HAVE A BLESSED DAY!”

I want to say back, hey, get a hold of yourselves! 



My neighbors… they are filled with the Holy Spirit

and exclaim their greetings with exposed joy –

and that seems so irreverent

in a world today where so much seems to be going wrong.



Who can be joyful when

·        layoffs have been announced at D-Ham, the Hamtramck GM plant and

·        government workers wonder if they will be paid by their employer and

·        refugees from many countries arrive at borders only to be terrorized as they are seeking asylum and

·        climate change threatens more flooding and more record-breaking weather events like the tsunami in Indonesia



Who can be joyful in all this mess?

The thing is, however,

joy never really has to do with

outward appearances. 

That’s what makes joy different from

happiness, or fun, or pleasure.

Joy does not depend on conditions. 



The only condition for joy[1]

“…is the presence of God.



Joy happens when God is present,

and people know it,

which means that joy can erupt”

in a divided political environment,

in a blighted neighborhood,

in someone’s home while delivering water.



See, Mary’s joy erupted the minute she saw Elizabeth. 

She barely had enough time to take off her coat,

covering her new baby bump. 



We don’t know what Mary expected,

but Elizabeth’s jovial response and blessing

is what Mary got. 

And that scream, laughter and giggle inspired Mary.

Mary, who broke out in song.

And, I like to think, she surprised herself. 



Mary’s recitation of the song of Hannah

from 1st Samuel in the Hebrew Scriptures

(which Mary of course knew)…



Mary’s recitation

was a hip-hop praise of God’s liberation,

a praise to the God

who turns the world upside down,

who grants favor to someone as low as herself, a nobody from nowhere, and

who brings down the high and mighty,

who lifts up the lowly,

who fills up the hungry and

who sends the rich away.

This spontaneous song of Mary’s,

the “Magnificat” is one of the earliest

and most enduring hymns of The Church.



That surprising joy erupts when God is present,

doing what God does,

and people –

like Elizabeth, like Mary, like my neighbors in Detroit –

“…cannot contain themselves.

They sing and dance, they jump for joy,

they open their mouths and poetry falls out.”



That surprising joy is the surest sign of God’s presence

that cannot be contained.





That surprising joy means that my heart leaps

when I see my neighbors

and yell, - with abandon -

for them to HAVE A BLESSED DAY too.



In these joy moments, our souls magnify God. 



Why don’t we express joy more often? 

Perhaps because the wounds of the world

seem so overwhelming.

Perhaps because we don’t know

how to break through the political stalemate.

Perhaps because we fear the consequences

of speaking truth to power.

Perhaps because discipleship is inconvenient.

Perhaps because joy is

sometimes hidden in the struggle of disruption,

sometimes caught between the false dichotomy

of despair and optimism.[2]



Like the experience of

15-year-old Swedish high-schooler, Greta Thunberg.[3]

Greta, a climate activist,

addressed the UN plenary session last week

on behalf of Climate Justice Now!

in Katowice Poland. 



In her short speech,

she named with Spirit’s power and clarity,

a conviction that can sound like despair

but is grounded something bigger –

in her love of the earth

and her care for generations to come.



Greta said,

“…Until you start focusing on

what needs to be done,

rather than what is politically possible,

there is no hope.

… And if solutions within the system

are so impossible to find,

then maybe

we should change the system itself.

We [youth] have not come here

to beg world leaders to care.

You have ignored us in the past,

and you will ignore us again.

We have run out of excuses,

and we are running out of time.

We have come here to let you know

that change is coming,

whether you like it or not.

The real power belongs to the people…”



Even in this somber truth-naming speech,

captured in a viral YouTube video,

her surprising joy of possibility comes through. 



Through her voice,

inspired by youth from Parkland, Florida

after their school shooting,

she passes on inspiration to others.



Through her voice,

we can glean the poetic pointing towards

“…another way, a way of hope

where circumstances that are dark or difficult

require us to look

beyond ourselves for rescue and relief

so that we might hear again and anew

God’s promise to hold onto us through it all.”[4]



I believe that this kind of joy-through-struggle

is grounded in the Mighty One

who does great things and whose name is holy.



This kind of joy-through-struggle

cannot be contained

because



God is the only one who can bring life out of death.

God is the one who can

turn the world upside-down

in partnership with humanity.



Pause





St. Peter’s, your soul magnifies God’s presence,

in the myriad ways you partner with God

in compassion and justice work:



Care for the earth through recycling and solar panels

Compassion for people

who are hungry through manna meal service

Companionship for people who are lonely through

Sunday gatherings of prayer and the breaking of bread

Charism of justice and dignity for all,

through direct action and voluntary arrest.

Your soul, St. Peter’s, magnifies God. 



The only question is

what is being birthed now

through this joyful leaping presence in your womb? 



What can happen

through this loving, liberating, life-giving God,

with your hope and blessing?



See, God imagines a world

of mercy, love and forgiveness

for all generations.

Working together with the joy of God in our hearts,

we can invite others along the way.

We can take risks and

proclaim out loud the

uncomfortable disruption that Jesus is birthing

here, now. 

We can rejoice in God our savior.



For God Loves you so much, and

God’s mercy and forgiveness offers joy and liberation

for all people, from generation to generation,

according to the promise God made to our ancestors,

to Abraham and Sarah, and their descendants forever.



And that is enough to make you jump for joy!



Amen




[1] Portions inspired by Barbara Brown Taylor, “Surprised by Joy,” The Living Pulpit, October-December 1996, pages 16-17

[2] Inspired by David Lose, “Singing as an Act of Resistance,” cited here on December 18, 2018

[3] Story cited here, here, and here on December 19, 2018


[4] Lose, Ibid.