Showing posts with label psalms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label psalms. Show all posts

Monday, July 30, 2018

Sermon: Where

Photo by Benny Jackson on Unsplash

Sermon Preached on July 29, 2018
Proper 12B RCL
The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse,
Director of the Whitaker Institute, 
Episcopal Diocese of Michigan
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Brighton, MI

Good morning.  My name is Rev. Vicki Hesse.
I serve the Diocese as the Director of the Whitaker Institute.
The Whitaker Institute is the educational arm of the Diocese.
Ask: Who here has taken a class from the Whitaker Institute? 

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 through about a dozen Dio-wide programs for
members of our faith community as lifelong formation.

Three programs you may know include:
Safe Church courses (now being revised),
“Academy for Vocational Leadership,” a local school for ordained ministry and
“Exploring Your Spiritual Journey,” aka EYSJ,
for anyone (lay or called to ordination) to learn how God is calling them.
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, Fr. Deon, who is on vacation this week,
for your invitation to be here today. 
Now we gather our minds and hearts and breathe into this space
as we reflect on our gospel message today.
(Prayer)
During my last year of seminary,
my bishop (of WNC) required us seminarians
to complete the GOE’s, the General Ordination Exams[1].
These were six on-line essay questions
scripture, history, theology, ministry, worship, ethics.
offered over three days. And it was timed. 
We felt our lives depended upon answering these correctly.
During the preparation season, we developed a mantra,
“answer the question, the whole question,
and nothing but the question, so help me God.”
What we learned from previous GOE test takers was
that the more you wrote,
the more likely you’d write yourself out of an effective answer. So
“answer the question, the whole question,
and nothing but the question, so help me God.”

I’ve been thinking this week about questions. 
And here’s why.  In today’s gospel text,
Jesus went up the mountain, sat down
and when he saw a large crowd coming toward him,
he asked Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?”
Notice, the question: “where” are we to buy bread for these ppl?
Not, “can you give me a budget
for how much it would cost to buy bread”
nor “how much food do you think we need
to feed all these people?”
nor even, “can you see if there is anyone
who has any extra food in their picnic basket
to help feed those ppl who brought nothing?”

Answer the question, the whole question and nothing but the question, Philip. 
Jesus asked “where,” Andrew, not how much. 
See, Philip and Andrew offered an answer
from their context, their conventional perspective. 
They focused on money. They focused on food.
They tried to solve this under their own power.
They didn’t see any part of “the question behind the question.”

How often in our world today,
is a response offered not for the question asked? 
With so much uncivil discourse in our political bantering
that we are tempted to forget the real question,
to notice what is really at stake. 
And in our emotional response,
we sometimes lose perspective of what is the truth.
And so we answer in conventional binary ways –
that person is “right” or “wrong.” 
Or that opinion is “factual” or “fake.”
Opiod crisis? Affecting us or not affecting us?
Poverty among children? In our community or not in our community?
But wait – what is the question, the whole question, nothing but the question?

Our societal dependence on scientific fact
can blind us from God’s overarching command
to care for the earth anyway. 
Sometimes a neighborhood’s “not in my back yard” approach
prevents us responding to a national crisis
of health and poverty that affects our neighbors
and the children all around us anyway. 
Human’s traditional binary categories
cannot comprehend in advance
what Jesus has to offer to our context, our lives, our world.

“Answer the question, the whole question, and nothing but the question, so help me God.”

Remember that little sentence, just after Jesus asks Phil about bread,
“He said this to test him,
for he himself knew what he was going to do” ? THERE is a clue.

Jesus knew that there was enough food,
regardless of Philip and Andrew’s poorly articulated answer
to their GOE question. 
That was the astonishing thing:
Turned out - Jesus was the source of food enough, as the Son of God. 

Jesus knew that to feed people, to ensure they were satisfied,
he had to anticipate their needs. 
He knew that to fill people’s bellies
would require a good ambiance. 
“Make the people settle down[2] and sit on the grass,” he commanded,
alluding to the line from Psalm 23,
which of course Jesus, as any good Jewish rabbi would know.
So then he took the loaves and the fish,
gave thanks and what did he do?
Astonishingly, He himself was the one to feed them.  

For Jesus knew that he himself was the gift of life – the source of life -
through this feeding by the five loaves and two fish. 

From WHERE will the bread for these people come?
From Jesus himself.
Who offered food for their bellies until there were even left overs?
Jesus himself.
What is the answer to the question, the whole question, nothing but the question?
Jesus himself.

That was the good news then and it is still the good news today. 
Jesus anticipates our needs
and provides more than we can ask or imagine. 

But we do resist Jesus. Why is that?
We resist because society poses the wrong question.
We resist because we want to control.
We resist because we value security over love.
We resist because we are afraid.
We resist because we are strange, unique, distinct creatures
who doubt that Jesus knows us *that* well.

What would it be like to truly
“answer the question, the whole question, and nothing but the question”?
We can  ask, what is at stake?

Then we live into what Poet Rainer Marie Rilke says,
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart
and try to love the questions themselves.”

Today, Jesus invites us to know from WHERE…
“we are to buy bread for these people to eat?”
WHERE is the whole question of our lives.
From WHERE will our bread come?
From Jesus himself.

Okay, confession time. I have been watching
– binging, really – the new season of Queer Eye. 
In this 2018 TV reality show, Queer Eye features the “Fab Five”
– five gay men who (on the surface)
“make over” a clueless protagonist
in the areas of grooming, fashion, food, culture, and home decor.
As Sojourner’s magazine recently wrote[3],
“… each episode becomes more than a makeover
as the … fab five breaks through the hero’s [inner] walls
and reach the root of their low self-esteem.”
As the real-life person integrates improved choices,
they ultimately find a deep confidence
to be exactly who they are: distinct, exotic, quirky, and joyful,
bringing their whole lives into question.
What does this show have to do with
answering Jesus’ question, “From WHERE will the bread come?”
This show offers a glimpse of the astonishing power of Love.
God’s Love disguised in these ministering Fab Five.

From WHERE will your bread come?
From Jesus himself  - his grace and astonishing presence.
It is Jesus himself that is
the inspiration behind your “Second Sunday” food drive for Gleaners.
It is Jesus himself that is
the inspiration for your own “Loaves & Fishes” ministry that
continues to provide free, nutritious meals
in a caring environment with special concern
for families and senior citizens.
It is Jesus himself that guides all the people gathered here at St. Paul’s
          To love and serve each other: as you know –
people who are in need
and people who are struggling
to experience God’s love in active, tangible ways.

Today’s good news is about Jesus’ grace for all people, the source of life abundant.

In the last part of the gospel text today we read that
Jesus walked across the water to the disciples’ boat.
They were terrified.
When Jesus says, “It is I, do not be afraid,” they recognize him,
and they reach their destination. 
Notice: When they recognize him, they are already WHERE they were going.

When recognize Jesus, we arrive.
And, when we arrive, Jesus recognizes us.
We are WHERE we are supposed to be.
So for the question, the whole question, and nothing but the question,
The answer is – IN JESUS. In his grace and glory.

Do not be afraid.

Amen.


[1] The GOE aims to evaluate the perception and analysis of issues in the several areas; the application of training and resources; the demonstration of knowledge and pastoral sensitivity; and the articulation of views. For more info, see http://www.episcopalgbec.org/index.php cited on July 28, 2018.
[2] David Bentley Hart, “The New Testament: A Translation” (New Haven, Yale University Press, 2017), p. 181

Friday, June 17, 2016

Sermon: Re-member



A Sermon preached in Christ Church, Grosse Pointe, Michigan
by The Reverend Vicki Hesse, Associate
The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Year C
5 June 2016

Listen here.
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.

Dag Hammarskjold was one of the most outstanding and highly respected international leaders of the 20th century.  He spent the latter part of his life devoted to pursuing the principles of the United Nations Charter, which proposed international cooperation and reconciliation for a peaceful world. 

It was known that Hammarskjold saw his work not only as a political role but also as a religious calling.  On his travels around the world, Hammarskjold always took with him three items, found in his briefcase, and recovered after the plane crash that took his life in 1961.  These included a copy of the NT, a copy of the Psalms, and a copy of the United Nations Charter.[1]

Indeed, Hammarskjold must have understood that the book of Psalms
·        Pronounces God’s claim upon the whole world
·        Conveys God’s will for justice, righteousness and peace among all peoples & nations, and
·        Anticipates Jesus’ bold position that the kingdom of God has come near.

While ancient Israelites used the psalms in their liturgy, these texts are much more than sophisticated poems.  We read them at every Sunday service, Evensong and daily morning & evening prayer – daily in the chapel at 8:30 and 5pm, you are invited!  We read the whole book of psalms in 30 days according to the order provided in the Book of Common Prayer.  Turn in your books of common prayer (BCP) to page 613, looking at the italicized text just above the number 24.  “Fifth day, morning prayer,” which we read for MP until BCP 27, where it says, “Fifth day, evening prayer,” etc.

At their heart, the psalms are not only humanity’s response to God, but also God’s word to humanity.  In this mutual conversation, we remember humanity’s ancient conversation with the Sacred and we remember Eternity’s divine conversation with humanity.
Professor Walter Brueggemann[2] offers a three-part framework to help with the enormous task of re-membering.

First, Psalms of Orientation reflect ours and God’s grounded sense of well-being found in the stories of creation, of the Torah, of wisdom literature.  Psalm 145 is a fine example, affirming God’s providential care.  Secondly, the Psalms of Disorientation offer personal and communal lament as found in that despairing place of unresolve and the very human experience of being felt denied by God and God’s experience of denial by humanity.  Psalm 88, for example, embraces this unresolved disorientation and precious helplessness.  Finally, Psalms of New Orientation offer personal and communal thanksgiving, confidence and praise in remembering the larger arch of creation. 

Today’s Psalm, #30, is a New Orientation psalm of thanksgiving, remembering the eternal story of going into trouble, sure, and of coming out of trouble that invokes a response that cannot be silent: praise and thanksgiving.  Getting into trouble, getting out of trouble, invoking burst of praise to God.

This theme, apparent in the first verses of the psalm, is palpable in the reading from 1st Kings and from the Gospel of Luke.  The psalmist, like anyone who grieves a loss, needs to tell the story – more, to remember, over and over, the details of the death and the rescue that occurs from which the response bursts forth: Lord, you have drawn me up, you have healed me, you have lifted me up and restored me to life.  The imagery of death captures and holds power for both the psalmist then and for us, now.

This psalmist invites us to remember. When were we, too, were brought to the Pit?  What was it like to demand from God an explanation for the depth of suffering? Finally, upon delivery, can we remember how we had to tell someone about that welling up of joy?  Remember how we could not stay silent, but instead give thanks and praise God?

With a veritable economy of words, the psalmist recounts the theme of the widow whose son died and yet lived again, according to the word of the Lord spoken by Elijah.  The psalmist anticipates the other widow’s story from Luke, in which Jesus’ encounters her dead son and restores him to life through a compassionate command to “Rise!”  It seems the psalmist knew that from this encounter, people could only respond by glorifying God and sharing their praise.

Through these ancient stories, we remember humanity’s ancient conversation with the Sacred and we remember Eternity’s divine conversation with humanity.  And so God re-members us, re-weaves us into God’s beloved community and re-binds our broken hearts with compassion and with holy Love.  Again, we give thanks.

The last Hebrew word in this psalm is one of confessional thanks.  With that thanks there is a commitment to remember vividly the pre-rescue situation and to keep that memory alive.  With thanks, we confess.  When we give thanks, we admit that we rely upon another. To thank is a commitment to relationship. 

The Psalms hold a response to deep, human yearnings: the cries of our soul, the songs of surrender, the hymns of praise.  At the heart of this Psalm, with any interpretation, is this: God re-members us.

So how do we re-member others into our community?
1.   We see & serve others – we really see them, respecting their dignity in every way.  This week, we can look deeply into the eyes of those we encounter and attend to their needs, putting our needs to the side.
2.   We suffer with or have compassion with others – having compassion as for scripture’s widows and their sons, suffering with others and re-membering them into the community.  This week, we can offer compassion.
3.   We say thank you – We re-member others into our community by giving thanks.  And, in so doing, we admit our relationship with them and with God, the God who re-members us all back into community.

At their heart, the psalms are not only humanity’s response to God, but also God’s word to humanity.  In this mutual conversation, we remember humanity’s conversation with the Sacred and we remember Eternity’s conversation with humanity.

Today’s good news is that God remembers us, our whole selves, our whole humanity, our whole ancient story.  Our silence is impossible! 

Let us give thanks to the Lord our God. 
It is right to give God thanks and praise.




[1] Story inspired by New Interpreter Bible Commentary, “The Book of Psalms,” page 641 quoting Dorothy V. Jones, “The Example of Dag Hammarskjold: Style and Effectiveness at the UN,” The Christian Century 111, 32 (Nov. 9, 1994) 1050.
[2] Walter Brueggemann, The Message of the Psalms: A Theological Commentary (Minneapolis, Augsburg, 1984)