Showing posts with label meal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meal. Show all posts

Monday, June 11, 2018

Sermon: Human Need Knows No Law


Sermon Preached on June 3, 2018
Proper 4B RCL
The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse
St. John’s Episcopal Church, Clinton

Video found here.

Good morning.   
Thank you for the invitation to be with you today. 
My name is Rev. Vicki Hesse and
I serve the Diocese as the Director of the Whitaker Institute.
Who here has taken a class from the Whitaker Institute? 
The Whitaker Institute is the educational arm of the Diocese.
Our overall purpose is (slowly)
to form disciples to carry on the ministry of Jesus Christ.
(that’s a big mission but we have a big God!)
We do this forming in three ways:
by educating, equipping and empowering
members of our faith community with lifelong formation.

Three programs you may know include Safe Church courses,
“Exploring Your Spiritual Journey” for anyone (lay or called to ordination) and
“Academy for Vocational Leadership,” a local school for ordained ministry.
These are only three of several programs.
Perhaps there will be time at coffee hour
to learn more about learning and working together
for mutual transformation.

So thank you Rev. Susie, for your invitation to be here today. 

Now, we take a deep breath and remember
we are always in God’s loving presence.
May the words of my mouth
and the mediation of all our hearts be acceptable to you,
O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

Sabbath.  Our first reading offered an exposition
on this 4th of the ten commandments,
“Observe the sabbath day and keep in holy.”
The gospel text, set on the Sabbath,
challenges us with a message
of love and compassion in the face of human need.
Sabbath.  What is the Sabbath?
The dictionary says,
“A day of religious observance and abstinence from work,
kept by Jews from Friday evening to Saturday evening,
and by most Christians on Sunday.”

In his book, The Sabbath[1],
Rabbi Abraham Heschel defines Sabbath
– that portion of Torah “Law” as,
“…a Divine paradigm of understanding time.” (show book)
In the prologue, Rabbi Heschel’s daughter
describes the “anticipatory delight” of preparing for Sabbath as a child.
She writes:

When my father raised his Kiddush cup on Friday evenings,
closed his eyes and chanted the prayer sanctifying the wine,
I always felt a rush of emotion. 
As he chanted with an old, sacred family melody,
he blessed the wine and the Sabbath with his prayer,
and I also felt he was blessing my life and that of everyone at the table….
I felt transformed, emotionally and physically. 
The sense of peace that came upon us
as we kindled the candle lights
was created, in part, by the hectic tension of Fridays. 
Preparation for a holy day,
my father often said, was as important as the day itself. 
When suddenly it was time, twenty minutes before sunset,
whatever hadn’t been finished in the kitchen we simply left behind
as we lit the candles and blessed the arrival of the Sabbath. 
My father wrote,
“The Sabbath comes like a caress, wiping away fear, sorrow and somber memories.”[2]

Rabbi Heschel teaches about this spiritual practice of sanctifying time.
Perhaps a book study for your next group?

In our Christian tradition, certain practices evolved from Judaism,
such as confession, worship, and adoration
– all of which mark time as holy.
You know, of course, that in the book of Genesis,
at the end of the creation story, “God blessed the seventh day and made it holy.”
Heschel, “…for six days a week
we live under the tyranny of space:
on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. 
It is day we are called to share what is eternal –
from “the world of creation” to the “creation of the world.”

This sacred time invites you
to hear the soft whisper of God’s voice,
“ye shall not kindle any fire.”
No fire, not in my heart, or for my needs, or with others.
For many years, my Sabbath agenda
has been rest and renewal, soft and gentle.

So there we have context
why the gospel today made me squirm:
a confrontation between holy law-keeping and holy people-saving.
The clue for me was Jesus’ anger.

The Gospel begins with the Pharisees confrontation.
They valued that law-to-keep-Sabbath over human need.

With a little exploration, it turns out that
“unlawful eating of food on the sabbath” was fake news.
Jesus didn’t break a sabbath law.
The law about which the Pharisees had a problem
was one that forbids harvesting a neighbor’s crop
(Deut 23: 24-25 if you are interested).
Jesus explains that what David did
(eating the bread of the presence when they were hungry)
was far worse than just rubbing kernels of grain together for a snack.
And although the Pharisees mixed up the details of their complaint,
Jesus knew their intentions.

Then, real trouble began.
He blew their socks off with this new paradigm:
“the sabbath was made for humankind,
not humankind for the sabbath.”
Jesus’ offered a new idea: human need knows no Law. 
Mercy and compassion overruled compliance with the 4th commandment. 
Jesus turned the Law upside-down.

Then, Jesus did it again. He provoked them:
“Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath?”
But they were silent.
Jesus then conveyed his humanity
– looking at them with anger.
Time stopped. Jesus kindled a fire in his heart!
He was grieved at their hardness of heart.

The bubble over Jesus’ head was surely written in all caps:
“HUMAN NEED KNOWS NO LAW!”
and afterwards, the man stretched out his hand, it was restored.

And… Jesus’ upside-down gospel tests us.
Sometimes, our society, our institutions, or our government,
also value the law over human need.
See, the validity of any institution
lies outside of itself. 

Just as
“the sabbath was made for humankind, not humankind for the sabbath,”
The Church was made for humankind, not humankind for the church.

So, the church’s true and only authority lies in its service to humankind.
The holiness of the church arises, surprisingly,
from the church’s own power
(from a faith community’s ability)
to adjust to changing times,
through ministries that respond
to the community’s human needs.
When we, in the church, ask, “Does this ministry fit into our tradition?”
– that is when Jesus asks us to turn the question upside down with,
“Does this ministry do good to humankind?”

Sometimes, we wonder how can we keep Sabbath
with all the need in the world? 
How can we serve others
when we are aging and less able? 
Jesus turns the question upside down when human needs are at stake.
Because in human-serving ministries,
the Holy Spirit invigorates participants
and provides the will and courage
to become the beloved community.

To be concrete, a little research on “human need” in Lenawee county
revealed that the “meal gap” is large.
The Meal Gap is the difference between
those who actually receive meal assistance
(~11% of county residents who are on SNAP, or WIC, or free lunch at school)
and
those whose income level qualifies them to receive assistance
but they do not pursue it, for many reasons
          (~75% of county residents[3])

The human need right here is for nearly 65,000 people
who live in this Meal Gap zone.
These people can use assistance to meet their hunger. 
You, the congregation of St. John’s in Clinton,
can make a difference with this potential “freezer meal ministry”
or by partnering with an organization like “Neighbors of Hope.”

Our gospel text today offers a timeless perspective:
God prioritizes human need over human law.

So what if…

What if the sanctity of keeping sabbath law in Jesus’ day
is like the sanctity of our national anthem on Memorial day? [4] 
I wonder if Jesus would take a knee while everyone else remains standing.
What if the sanctity of keeping sabbath law in Jesus’ day
is like the sanctity of our national immigration law,
which punishes people who “break the law” seek refuge at the US border
by separating them from their children?
I wonder if Jesus would welcome them with hospitality and offer an abundant life.

Today’s Gospel message to prioritize human need over human law
might trigger anger to arise in us. 

That anger – grounded in the yearning for God’s justice –
might fuel us to respond to the human need. 
That anger – fueled by our feeling out of control
might invite us to discover how our personal power might be threatened. 
That anger – manifest in our own atrophied hands
might be just the boost we need to respond to human need.
And turn our world upside down.

The good news today is that Jesus stretches out his hands to us. 
He is with us in the holiness of this time,
empowering us to offer our whole lives
to serve human need above human law. 

So today, during communion,
I invite you to come forward,
to stretch out your hand,
to be blessed and empowered in the name of Jesus
to join with him in the business of
serving human need over human law. 

Stretch our your hands. 
Become the beloved community
that makes God’s love real in the world. 

Come, stretch out your hands
so that Jesus can meet you in eternity of Sabbath
and delight in your presence with all of God’s creation.

Come, be restored!


[1] Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath: its meaning for modern man, (New York, Farrar Straus and Giroux, 1951)
[2] Heschel, vii-viii
[3] According to the 2017 Mind The Meal Gap by Feeding America, downloaded on May 28, 2018.
[4] Facebook posting by friend and pastoral mentor, Tommy Airey author for Radical Discipleship, following his work in the Poor People’s Campaign: A National Call for Moral Revival in Lansing, MI on May 31, 2018.

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Sermon: Up and At 'Em and Jump In!



A Sermon preached in 
photo CCO Public Domain
Christ Church, Grosse Pointe, Michigan
by The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse, Associate

The Third Sunday of Easter, Year C
10 April 2016
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be always acceptable to you, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer.
Listen here.


“Up and at ‘em and jump into the pool!”

This was our family wake-up call during my childhood’s long, hot, California summers.  And so we did.  Get up and jump into the pool.  And sometimes we would don our bathing suits, even.  Or just jump in with our pajamas on.  Hearing today about Peter’s jump into the sea, with his clothes on, like the buffoon he played, got me thinking about how Peter just, “got up and at ‘em and jumped in.”

The presence of Jesus on the beach served as Peter’s wake-up call during his long and difficult sleep of grief – the grief that “going fishing” was supposed to relieve.  Jesus woke him from the grief Peter thought would go away by the familiar spray of the sea mist, the sway of the boat beneath his feet, and the weight and texture of the fishing nets.

Of course, Peter wanted the familiar – just like we all do when a family drama turns our life sideways. We yearn for the familiar, we long for our sense of “normalcy.” That’s why Peter went fishing in the first place.

And, the beloved disciple’s exclamation, “It is the Lord!” woke Peter out of his sleepy post-traumatic shock from the week’s previous events: Jesus’ passion, crucifixion, death, empty tomb and re-appearances. Seeing Jesus on the beach also brought back Peter’s guilt.  He had said he would follow Jesus all the way to the end, even to death. Yet, when tested, Peter succumbed to his own vulnerability, his own fear and so denied Jesus – not once, but three times, just as Jesus had predicted. 

That morning, hearing Jesus’ voice, “…cast the net to the right side of the boat!” triggered Peter’s heartache and angst. And in that micro-second, Peter wondered if he would ever be able to make it right with Jesus, to forgive himself.  Then, seeing the abundance of fish in the nets was the last straw. 

Peter got up and at ‘em; and as he jumped into the sea, the rush of water gushing past his ears rang out a memorial torrent of struggle, of vulnerability, and of Love:
·        the wedding party at Cana where Jesus turned water into wine
·        the way Jesus up-ended the tables in the temple
·        the meeting Jesus had with the Samaritan woman,
·        the hungry crowd Jesus fed with just the 2 fish and 2 loaves.

Once Peter and the disciples had hauled in their catch Jesus told them to bring some of the fish they had just caught, to add to what he offered. In this simple, yet, profound request, Jesus not only provided for the disciples, but he also invited them to contribute. To contribute what they had and, by extension, who they were.

In sharing a meal of food that each provided, Jesus drew them all back into mutual relationship.  In this way, Jesus informed the disciples: he needed them to partner with him as co-creators of God’s realm here on Earth.  And Jesus asks us to bring what we have – and who we are: our gifts and our gaps, our strengths and struggles, our love and our longings – to be part of the Jesus movement. 

In the meal we share, Jesus draws us into mutual relationship, to make, together, a world as God dreams it can be. After sharing that meal, Jesus and Peter sat together.  The charcoal fire must have reminded Peter of that other charcoal fire – where Peter stood, warming himself, on that awful night of Jesus’ arrest and torture, when Peter denied knowing Jesus. 

Now Peter faced his Beloved teacher and Lord.  Courageously, in his vulnerability, he met Jesus one-on-one and looked into the eyes of the one he deeply loved – and denied.  Jesus spoke first, “Simon Peter, son of John, do you love me?”  Peter responded, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”  Jesus replied, “Feed my sheep.”  Three times he asked Peter to confess.  Three times he did, though by the third time he was disheartened, even hurt.  Three times he invited Peter to express his love, symbolically wiping away the three times Peter had denied him. 

Jesus got up and at ‘em and forgave Peter – and more. God was at work
through the Risen Christ restoring Peter back into the discipleship community and giving him meaningful work to do. The good news here is that forgiveness leads to mission, restoration to purpose, and inclusion to calling. 

A few years ago, I read a book called The Five Love Languages.[1]  The premise of the book is expressing love in a way that the other understands.  The five love languages are:

First, “words of affirmation.”  In this language, spoken praise and appreciation is like rain on parched soil.  “I forgive you”, “thank you” or “you are important” shows love and belonging for those who speak “verbal.”  

Second, “acts of service.” In this language, actions speak louder than words: preparing a casserole for someone in crisis, making meals at Crossroads, baby sitting for the neighbor, or planting trees & shrubs to beautify the Moross Greenway; serving means love and belonging for those who speak “show me.”

Third, “receiving gifts.”  In this language, love is symbolized. A cheerful Easter bouquet delivered to a friend who cannot get to church or a simple note card with a ribbon inside means the world for those who speak “gifted” love.

Fourth, “quality time.” In this language, undivided attention, such as sharing a cup of tea, sitting with someone in hospital, or even taking a walk around the block means so much for those who speak “be with me.”

Fifth, “physical touch.”  In this language, physical connection, such as a hand on a grieving friend’s shoulder or a simple handshake communicates love for those who speak “touch.”

Tell, serve, give, be, touch. Verbs of love.

Jesus asks us all, “do you love me?” and invites us to “tend my sheep,” to show our love, perhaps through words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts, quality time or physical touch.  And in so doing, we are restored. We have purpose.

God, through the Risen Christ, met and loved Peter right where he was. And that love inspired Peter to live his way into a new way of thinking, rather than think his way into a new way of living.[2] 

Today, Jesus gets up and at ‘em and forgives us– and more – he loves us, restores us and gives us purpose.  We the impetuous, clueless, head-strong ones who God entrusts to “feed my sheep,” to show God’s Love.

Jesus gets up and at ‘em and jumps into our pool – the pool of our life, individually and communally – our family, our work, our play, our callings, our worries, our quirks.  Today, Jesus’ love inspires us to get up & at ‘em and jump into the pool – the pool of God’s realm, the pool of the Jesus movement. 

May we all, today, jump in – whether in fishing clothes or pajamas – for the Love of God. 
Amen



[1] Gary Chapman, The 5 Love Languages: The Secret to Love that Lasts, (Northfield Publishing, Chicago, 1992)


[2] Richard Rohr, “We do not think ourselves into new ways of living, we live ourselves into new ways of thinking,” as quoted in several of his books, including Falling Upwards and Everything Belongs.