Monday, October 22, 2012

The 21st Sunday after Pentecost - Being a Slave??

    James and John—whatever were they thinking?  “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.”  Did they believe Jesus when he predicted that the Son of Man would suffer and die?  Didn't appear to.  Did they figure his statement, “and after three days he will rise again,” was the only important point Jesus was making?  Perhaps.

    The writer of Mark's gospel reported three instances of Jesus' saying the Son of Man—a  Messianic title—would suffer, die and rise again.  Mark also reported that Jesus' disciples misunderstood what he was saying or rejected it all three times.  And all three times Jesus corrected their misunderstanding and taught them what a true disciple is.  The passage we heard today from 10th chapter of Mark contains the final dialog about this issue.  In the next chapter, the 11th chapter, Jesus enters Jerusalem to begin the last week of his life.


    Why was it so hard for them to simply believe what he was telling them?  The simplest explanation might be that they had bought into the cultural expectation of a militant Messiah who would throw off the oppression of the Roman empire and re-establish the throne of David.


    But I think we have to go deeper—because Jesus was explaining something  that we still have trouble articulating today.  The disciples of Jesus—and even we today—have trouble understanding the meaning of what happened that week we call “holy.”


    The theological term for what went on is “atonement.” But we have difficulty clarifying what “atonement” means.  John Burgess, a professor of systematic theology, describes atonement as being “at the heart of Christian faith” and “so deep in meaning and mystery” that our explanations cannot capture the fullness of its meaning.  But that has not stopped folks from trying!


    The writer of the letter to the Hebrews talked about Christ being a high priest appointed by “the one” who claimed him as a son.  And Jesus' behavior during the time of his suffering allowed him to become “the source of eternal salvation of all who obey him.”  He became the source, because he modeled obedience to the path he had explained to his disciples as being his destiny.


    Theologians in the early church decided that the paradox of Jesus' suffering and death defeating the power of death over humanity defined “atonement.”  Death defeating death brings life to humankind!
    In medieval times, “atonement” theology focused on Jesus, as fully God and fully human. Only a God-man could satisfy God's anger at human beings' sinfulness.  There was nothing we could do to make ourselves right with God, but Jesus, as both being divine and human and without sin, could die in our place and satisfy God's anger. This point of view creates difficulty, because it neglects putting God's love for humanity into the “atonement” equation.


    More recently theologians have tried to correct that omission. Prof. Burgess notes that “Christ's sacrifice on the cross demonstrates a complete, self-giving love that inspires us to likewise.”  God's love for us seen in the Incarnation--God's self coming to live as one of us--becomes our exemplar.  We learn how to minimize our tendency to sin, by becoming as much like Jesus as we are able, emptying ourselves of self-centeredness and practicing self-giving love. God acted through Jesus Christ to save us, and we respond to God's love with love.


    But what should our loving response really look like?  I think Jesus described what self-giving love looks like as he taught the disciples to reject the system of domination by tyrants—think Roman empire, here. Jesus said, “. . . but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.”


    The Greek words used by Mark for servant [diakonos, from which we get our word “deacon”] and for slave [doulos] show how significant a social reversal Jesus advocated.  Doulos was the lowest status possible in the Greco-Roman world. And Jesus expected—and still expects—no less from  his disciples: “For the Son of Man came not be served, but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”  This is the cup that Jesus drank; this is the baptism with which he was baptized.


    Jesus faced physical death in expressing self-giving love; we probably won't. But we must die to self-centeredness and become Jesus' followers who find ways—and I paraphrase Matthew, chapter 25—to feed the hungry, to give clothing to those who have little, to visit those whom society has rejected or ignored, and to give a cup of cool [and clean] water to the thirsty.  And we must find ways to lead others to care for those who live in need. [I described the lives of St. Marianne Cope and Sr. Constance and her companions of Memphis, Tennessee.]


    So now we come back to James and John—whatever were they thinking?  They experienced Jesus and heard his words, but they missed his meaning.  Please God, help us, who have come to know Jesus through scripture, to understand—to really get what Jesus means—and to be his obedient servants.


Quotes from John P. Burgess can be found in Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 4, Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009. p. 182-186.

Friday, October 19, 2012

Sermon Preached on September 16 at St. Nicholas' by Barbara Scira - "Losers, Keepers"





Fr. Kolbe's Cell

Are we the living dead?

Are we just going through the motions of our life in Christ, flipping the channel in our mind, tuning out just a little, running the to-do list over in our head during the sermon? After all…if we’ve been going to church for a while…we’ve heard it all before. Has our passion for God cooled down, gotten quiet or even gone underground?

Let’s face it, I don’t see too many people jumping for joy over Jesus’ teaching to ‘’deny ourselves, take up our cross and follow him.’’

Frankly, that sounds like a lot of work.

Eric Scott, pastor of the San Pedro UMC in San Pedro, California writes, ‘’Your cross, as one of my colleagues likes to say, isn’t your annoying brother-in-law.  Your cross isn’t even a chronic health condition.  The cross is something we choose.  We have the option of picking it up or not.  The irony is that the cross is not something anyone would want to pick up.  It is, on the surface, distasteful.  Yet at the same time, it is a way of life that puts the self’s primary desires and motivations aside.  Somehow, by doing that , we actually experience more true life than if that had been our goal to begin with.’’

We are reminded of this truth when we explore the life of Maximilian Kolbe Kolbe, a Polish priest, didn’t know where his life would take him when he entered the priesthood. At first he traveled extensively for some years, establishing friaries in Asia and India before returning to Warsaw to establish one there. After Germany invaded Poland in 1939, Kolbe and his fellow friars organized it as a shelter for 3,000 Polish refugees, 2,000 of them Jews. The friars shared all they had with the refugees. Eventually this work ended with the friars’ arrest in 1941.

Kolbe was sent in May of that year to Auschwitz. There he was known for his acts of kindness and generosity. Since there was often not enough food to go around, he stood aside to let others in the bunker get the weak cup of coffee, weak soup and piece of bread that was food for a day. He seldom rested at night but went from bunk to bunk to offer what comfort he could. He waited for others to be treated by the doctor before he stepped forward. He led prayers and offered confessions and turned the other cheek when abused by the guards. Both his fellow prisoners and some of his captors later attested to his selflessness.

Kolbe hadn’t been there many months when someone from his bunker escaped. The rule at Auschwitz was that for every escapee, 10 would be killed. This group of men, already disheartened and starving; were called into the yard where 10 of them were chosen to be placed in Block 13 and starved to death. One of the ten, Fracizek Gajowncek cried out that he was a father, a husband, that he would now never see his family again.

Father Kolbe stepped forward and offered his life for Gajowncek. He simply said, ‘’Let me die in his place.’’ It is the first and last time in the history of Auschwitz that anyone volunteered to die for someone else.

During 3 weeks of starvation and dehydration, Kolbe led the others in prayers and hymns. He kept them focused on the eternal, helped them set their minds on things above. He never cursed his oppressors, but prayed for them and urged the others to do so. In the end, it took an injection of carbolic acid to end his life. It was discovered later that the ‘’escapee’’ had drowned in the camp’s latrine.

Author, blogger and speaker Ann Voscamp, recently posted a two part essay on her web page called ‘’How to Really Live.’’ She talked about telling her children the story of Maximilian Kolbe, and how she had memorized part of a letter he wrote to his mother a week before these events began to unfold. Dear Mama, begins the letter. ‘’ I am in the camp of Auschwitz. Everything is well in my regard. Be tranquil about me and about my health, because the good God is everywhere and provides for everything with love.’  Voscamp says, ‘’ I had memorized that line of the letter. Because if a man in the midst of one the most hideous scenarios known in the history of the world could write a line like that — not from a bad day at the office or a hard day with the kids, but from the death stench of Auschwitz — how can anyone deny this ultimate, iron-clad testimony: A Good God is everywhere — and provides for everything with love.

She goes on to say: How can I believe anything different when the house is loud and mothering wears and obligations pile and I’m buried and a friend tells me the doctors have given her 60-90 days to live and even breathing can cause this pain in your chest?

If Maximilian Kolbe could stand in Auschwitz and write “Be tranquil — because the good God is everywhere and provides for everything with love” — is there ever really anything that should make one lose tranquility? It could be like a song for all the doubters and anxious: The good God is everywhere and provides for everything with love.’’

Jesus said: ‘’If you’re seeking to keep your life, you’ll lose it. If you lose your life for my sake, you’ll find it.’’

The Messiah was born human, born to the same pain and heartache, disappointment and frustration that we have. Yet in the midst of that human condition, Jesus shows us how to really live, points to what’s really important, God’s Kingdom come… on Earth as it is in Heaven. Maximilian Kolbe brought God’s Kingdom to Earth, to the horror of Auschwitz by stepping in to save the life of a man he didn’t know. And he didn’t stop there. The camp and guards could hear the singing, the prayers. What did such courage and sacrifice leave behind in the hearts of those others.

We pray the Lord’s Prayer every week, and if you’re like me, you may imagine God’s Kingdom coming in some future, gold-tinted time…maybe the way that Peter and the rest of his countrymen dreamed up a Messiah that would crush their enemies and set them free. Shawn Claiborne explains it this way in his Esquire essay ‘’What if Jesus Meant all that Stuff’’: ‘’ Don't get me wrong, I still believe in the afterlife, but too often all the church has done is promise the world that there is life after death and use it as a ticket to ignore the hells around us. I am convinced that the Christian Gospel has as much to do with this life as the next, and that the message of that Gospel is not just about going up when we die but about bringing God's Kingdom down. It was Jesus who taught us to pray that God's will be done "on earth as it is in heaven." On earth.’’

Maximilian Kolbe did not ignore the hell around him. He shattered the darkness with his act of love.

The Messiah who God had in mind was not the one the Jewish people had dreamed up when they were a disenfranchised, scattered people, enslaved. Jesus wasn’t there to lead the kind of revolution the oppressed always dream of…full of justice and not mercy… He was coming to fulfill the Torah…to show people how to really live as a citizen of the Kingdom of God, and more, how to bring God’s Kingdom to Earth.

Right here. Right now.

Jesus isn’t about what’s popular, doesn’t care if he’s leading in the polls or any ‘’we are the champions’’ kind of thinking. In fact he tells people NOT to talk about his miraculous works. He’s about serving…about giving his life as a ransom for many. He often does the exact opposite of what’s expected. When Peter urged him avoid Jerusalem to save his life, Jesus tells him he’s missed the point.

In God’s Kingdom, it’s not finders keepers…it’s losers keepers

Saving yourself doesn’t bring the Kingdom of God right here, right now. And that’s what this damaged, angry world needs; people willing to love, to sacrifice, to work for the good of all people, because we are ALL God’s children. God wants people who are all in.

Jesus was all in.

Peter was all in too, but Peter was going by the old yardstick. Peter, worried about his friend, worried about his own place (have I made the right choice?), handing out the conventional wisdom, ‘’God forbid this should EVER happen to you, Lord.’’ Peter, showcase of humanity…bold and wrong-headed.

Jesus’ rebuke of Peter is not a rebuke of the person, but of his mindset. Like Peter you and I can lose sight of what is really important for what seems to be. Instead of passionate love for God that is plain to all who meet us, we offer lip service…instead of actual service.

Jesus doesn’t call us to say we love him; he calls us to live out his love in us.

Every day.

Pastor Scott, writes, ‘’ I think what Jesus [thinks] is that our base instincts about what makes a good life are not to be trusted.  There is a higher kind of living—a higher calling—based upon living for others after the manner of Jesus.  Jesus’ manner of living meant taking up a cross of self-sacrifice for the sake of others.  We follow Jesus by imitating his type of life.’’

Shawn Claiborne sees it the same way; ‘the entire story of Jesus is about a God who did not just want to stay "out there" but who moves into the neighborhood, a neighborhood where folks said, "Nothing good could come." It is this Jesus who was accused of being a glutton and drunkard and rabble-rouser for hanging out with all of society's rejects, and who died on the imperial cross of Rome reserved for bandits and failed messiahs. This is why the triumph over the cross was a triumph over everything ugly we do to ourselves and to others. It is the final promise that love wins.’’

I’m sure you’re wondering what happened to Gajowncek - the man Father Kolbe saved? According to Louis Bulow’s article on Kolbe, ‘’He died on March 13, 1995, at Brzeg in Poland at 95 years old - 53 years after Kolbe had saved him. But he was never to forget the ragged monk. After his release from Auschwitz, Gajowniczek made his way back to his hometown, with the dream of seeing his family again. He found his wife but his two sons had been killed during the war. Every year on August 14 he went back to Auschwitz. He spent the next five decades paying homage to Father Kolbe, honoring the man who died on his behalf.’’

It is said that Fracizek Gajowncek kept a stone in his garden, with the name of Maximilian Kolbe on it. He said ‘’Because of Maximilian Kolbe, every breath that I take, everything that I do, every single moment, is to me — -like a gift.’”

Someone died for us. Someone stepped in and saved our lives. Too often we take that for granted. Remember the disciples who met, but did not recognize Christ on the road to Emmaus? After he left them, they say ‘’we should have known it was Jesus. Didn’t his words burn in our hearts?’’ When we have been rescued from certain death, how can we respond with the same old tired, responses, like teenagers who know you’re right, but have to argue with you anyway? How can we miss the gift?
Ann Voscamp says ‘’How can our bones not burn with thanks, with love, with the message of Who saved us? How can anything after His rescuing — be anything but appalling gift? It’s time to be tired of being the living dead.’’

‘’A single act of love makes the soul return to life,’’ said Maximilian Kolbe

God says in the book of Ezekiel, ‘’ I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.’’

Today, may God write his name on your heart, and may every breath be a gift. May you be tranquil — because you know the good God is everywhere and provides for everything with love. May you see life as a good gift from God and may God’s Kingdom come, right here, right now, in us.

Amen.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

The 20th Sunday after Pentecost - "Sticker Shock"

What must I do?  And after I have done all that is expected, what then?  Finding the answers to these questions occupies much of our attention and our effort every day of our lives.

This week I put my calendar on top of my printer and carelessly covered it with a piece of paper.  I have tried to keep two copies of my calendar, but somehow my effort in this regard never lasts more than a few weeks. So after trying to visualize the last time I used it without much success, searching my purse, my car, and my office at St. Nicholas several times, I decided it had to be at home.  At the end of the day when I went to the room where my computer and printer live, the first thing I saw was my wallet.  I grimaced and thought I've been driving around today without my license and without any cash—but where is that calendar?  Then a stack of stuff on my printer caught my attention, because it looked “crooked.”  I picked up the top sheet, and there was my pocket-sized calendar.  My tiny little black calendar can be relied on to tell me exactly what I must do!  And at the end of the week, I pull up the little red ribbon, flip the page and can answer the second question I posed:  What then?  The answer my calendar usually gives to that question isn't startling—the threads of my various responsibilities pop up as notations for meetings or time in the office.

Not for one second, however, do I think that my calendar answers the question the rich, young ruler asked Jesus.  But I do think my schedule, as recorded in my calendar, gives me the same sort of assurance that keeping the commandments had given that young man.  I feel assured that my calendar will prove to anyone how diligently I have been carrying out my duties.

The commandments the young man said he obeyed are those that relate to his relationship with others in his community and to his family of origin. Keeping these  commandments provided him with status in the community—people would see him as a righteous person and his wealth would confirm how righteous he was, because good behavior was rewarded by God in the common wisdom of the time—think of the stories of Daniel and Esther, and even in the end the story of Job.

 So why is Jesus asking him to give up the signs of his status and the comforts that his wealth and status bring?  Is Jesus doing this just to make a point about how wealth can hold a person hostage?

The command to go sell all one's possessions and give that money to the poor creates a “sticker shock for the soul,” according to Dr. Wiley Stephens, a United Methodist pastor. The cost of discipleship becomes too great if you must become impoverished, so the young man turned away.

Or perhaps Jesus knew the one thing that would challenge that particular young man to face his fear of being completely vulnerable and dependent.  So Jesus challenged him to give up his security and depend on God alone.  Offering the young man “eternal life” involved more than promising him what would happen after his death.  “Eternal life” meant following the path of Jesus as his disciple right now.  It meant serving the poor, the ill and the disabled.  Becoming Jesus’ disciple meant participating in the in-breaking reign of God by offering hope and healing to those whom society had rejected.  And it meant sharing their lowly status.

Peter and the other disciples who composed the inner circle of twelve had given up most everything—at least temporarily—to follow Jesus.  Yet they had done so with one rather important reservation.  They expected to be rewarded for their faithfulness when God's reign on earth and in heaven would be fully realized.  They hoped sit in places of honor; they expected to assist Jesus when he became the ruler in the “age to come.”  So Peter asks this essential question: after we disciples have given up everything to follow you—just as you asked that young man to do—then what? What comes next?

I certainly wish I could write in the Friday block in my calendar: "a reward will be given" (if I have completed all the tasks written down this week) and know it will be more than a pay check.  Now I'm not exactly sure what kind of reward I’d want each week or what a place of honor might be like for me—I'll have to give it some thought—in case the Bishop ever calls and asks how I would like to be honored.

But then again, I haven't given up everything to follow the Bishop—or even given up every possession to follow Jesus.  A retired priest I know jokes about this passage by saying if he ever heard Jesus telling him to sell all his stock and give the money to the poor—and he began to act on that command—his wife would have him put away.  Even the monastics of medieval and renaissance Europe, who—upon entering a monastery—gave up their possessions and left their families to do so, knew that the community they were about to enter would provide food, shelter and clothing.

One of the reforms Teresa of Avila made,when she broke from the traditional Carmelite practices in 16th century Spain, was to insist that her nuns live only on what people gave them.  True poverty would help the nuns learn dependence on God.  St. Francis, of course, had the same point of view.  However, after their deaths, the reforms of Teresa and Francis were not maintained with the rigor for which they had hoped.  “Sticker shock for the soul” does not play well over the long term.  Given a choice, most human beings are unwilling to be that vulnerable.

“But before you too are taken back by "sticker shock," Pastor Stevens concludes, “listen again to the promise that Jesus makes to you and me.  ‘For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.’”  We should look at this commitment as something even greater than getting rid of our possessions.  Pastor Stevens sees “selling all your possessions” as a way of talking about total commitment to God.  However, even that will be quite difficult!  Yet I believe God will respond if we decide to do our best to love God with all our heart and soul and mind and strength and give up whatever is blocking that love.   For God all things are possible!  We must trust that God will bless our efforts, as we show our love for God in what we do, in what we say and in what we choose to give up.

[Dr. Stephens’ remarks can be found at: http://day1.org/4207-sticker_shock_for_the_soul ]

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

The 19th Sunday after Pentecost - Hard Hearted or Whole-hearted?


The portion of the creation story we heard this morning tells us that the names of animals came from human creativity.  Of course, we have no idea what those words sounded like.  Perhaps they were like the sounds the animals make.  My 16 month old grandson delights in answering questions about what different animals say.  It certainly would be easy to refer to a critter by its sound.

On the day we celebrate St. Francis' love for all God's creatures by blessing our pets, hearing about this first relationship between humans and critters seems particularly appropriate.  The human's job was to name each animal, and the animals' job was to be companions for human beings.  This sort of relationship between humans and animals foreshadows the domestication of animals when they became essential to human survival.

But such a relationship based on practicality and survival was not enough.  The writer of this passage in Genesis depicts the beginning of another type of relationship: “bone of my bones, flesh of my flesh” are the words that one human being used to describe another human being.  The following editorial comment about becoming one flesh shows how important this relationship is—the only relationship more important in the mind of the author of this passage would exist between humanity and God.

Small wonder then that Jesus did not allow conventional attitudes—or even what the Torah allows—concerning the most intimate of human relationships to trap him into demeaning anyone.  Jesus held everyone—men and women both—to highest standard of ethical behavior. “Love your neighbor as yourself” begins at home. 

The context for Mark's lengthy report of Jesus' teaching about divorce and remarriage is two-fold.  First, we read in the 6th chapter of Mark's gospel that Jesus' cousin, John the Baptizer, was arrested and later beheaded, because he spoke out against King Herod's wife—already kin to him through marriage—for divorcing her husband to marry the king. Thus, the issue of divorce and re-marriage may have had a very personal meaning for Jesus.

Second, divorce and re-marriage must have been important issues in the Christian community for which Mark wrote.  The Torah only allowed men to divorce their wives.  Greco-Roman law and custom allowed either person in a marriage relationship to divorce the other and—as I understand history—was fairly common.  Mark wanted to show that Jesus would have been offended by both types of divorce and remarriage, Jewish and Gentile.

Why would Jesus have been offended? Because vulnerable people—the women—would be hurt when they lost their place in society and whatever economic security they may have had in their marriage.  Jesus also appeared to be offended by the legalism of conventional practices voiced by the Pharisees in Mark's account.

Jesus was speaking out against the idea that a certain behavior was just fine, in fact, no problem at all, if the law allowed it.  He called it “hardness of heart,” and emphatically condemned it.  As he did in his Sermon on the Mount, he holds his followers to the highest ethical standard, which is this: your intent and the effect of your behavior on others matter as much as what you do or don't do.

One of my seminary professors claimed that we always have “mixed motives” in the choices we make.  The Reformation theologians called it being a “saint” and a “sinner” at the same time.  In their opinion, only God's grace could save a person from this impossible position.

Today, I'd like to consider two issues in terms of “hardness of heart” or its opposite, “generosity of heart.”  First, since we are celebrating St. Francis today, we need to consider how we as a society treat the natural world (plants, animals, earth) in our care.  Do we see ourselves at the center of it all with our needs or wants paramount, or do we see ourselves as caretakers, careful stewards, if you will, of God's good creation.  Should stewardship of creation entail some sacrifice on our parts?  Which of our modern conveniences and comforts might we be willing to live without?

Second, right how we, as a parish, are engaged in considering our commitment to God's work in the world—our commitment both of financial resources and of our time and talent.  I have seen it demonstrated over the past six years that our “generosity of heart” usually trumps any “hardness of heart” we may feel at times.  But with each gift we make to St. Nicholas'—or to other charitable causes—we may experience a small twinge of uncertainly—have I given to God in response to the blessings I have received or have I given for some other reason . . . have I given as my circumstances allow or have I contributed less than I should?  Because of this uncertainty, we should consider the question of our commitment to God's work in our prayers.  May the Spirit of God to inspire each of us as we decide what our gift will be.

Our life together here at St. Nicholas'—our worship and our service to others—these are important.  We are not earning our salvation, but we are allowing ourselves to be open to influences that may soften any tendencies we have towards “hardness of heart.”

Jesus said in the gospel passage we heard this morning that God's kingdom belongs to children and those who become as children.  We puzzle about what Jesus meant exactly, but I would like to suggest this possibility:  unless they have been abused, the hearts of young children have not been hardened—they are vulnerable, and they have an openness, a generosity of heart. They offer themselves whole-heartedly when they are with people whom they know and trust. Is our relation with God like this: we trust and love God, so we offer ourselves whole-heartedly to God?  Is this what Jesus means when he describes our participation in God's reign?  I think perhaps it is!

Saturday, October 6, 2012

The 18th Sunday after Pentecost - Was Jesus Right?


So today, just to wake everyone up, we're going to start with a mini-grammar lesson.  Ok—remember conjugating verbs.  Then let's try one: to ring.  That's right: ring, rang, rung.  OK—here's another: to fling.  [fling, flung, flung] OK—but there is a blogger who decided to conjugate it a bit differently: her blog is entitled “Leave it lay where Jesus flang it.”  I have only read the blog occasionally, but I am absolutely fascinated by the title.  You may disagree with me, but I think the title of the blog tells us to let go of over-interpreting difficult passages, either as a literalist or as one who seeks information about all sorts of historical and literary contexts in order to soften difficult passages.

So this morning, I am advocating that we just leave the difficult parts of the gospel reading lay where Jesus “flang” them: in the minds of his close disciples who seemed to be challenging the way he was handling his ministry.  I will simply say this:  if you think all the Bible should be interpreted literally and you carefully seek to follow Jesus' teachings and you are honest about your own shortcomings, Mark 9: 42-48 may cause you some significant difficulty.

But now, on to what I think is the most important issue in our readings today—how do we define a community to which we belong and how do we act as a result of that definition.  We see three snapshots of communities in our three lessons today: the Israelite community in the desert, the inner circle of the disciples who were close to Jesus, and a gathering in the early church.  And, as always, we need to ponder what scripture says to our own community.

Here is how I see community defined in these readings: Physical presence in a gathering of the members [Numbers], a gathering concerned with each other's well-being—both physical and spiritual [James], and a small number of people who see themselves as carrying out an exclusive mission [Mark].  All these descriptions may apply to us here at St. Nicholas' at one time or another.  In fact, this morning in a few minutes we will doing exactly what James recommends to his community: praying and anointing with oil for healing in the name of the Lord.  We are not claiming to perform miracles at this moment.  What we do claim—as James puts it—is this:  “The prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up; and anyone who has committed sins will be forgiven.”  True healing means an end to the “dis-ease,” including the dis-ease” of sin, which separates us from God's love.

But other actions based on an understanding of community we see in our readings today speak not to healing, but to excluding.  Who is part of our group and who is not?  Who has the correct beliefs or the purity to qualify for membership in our community? And taking it one step further—who may be our enemy?

Jesus will have none of this exclusionary stuff!  He was teaching his disciples to consider another person's intent from a positive perspective, to practice compassion, to avoid behavior that might offend and cause people to lose connection with their source of hope, to keep their own relationship with God fresh and finally to practice peace.  Jesus wasn't asking his disciples—and isn't asking us—just to be nice and don't make waves.  I believe he asked his disciples—and is asking us—to step outside our own set of pre-occupations and prejudices—as often as we can. We should look out for the well-being of the community and for what God may be saying to us—while being VERY CLEAR that we may have it wrong.

A parishioner accosted a priest one day, probably during coffee hour, and told him how wrong his ideas about an issue were.  The priest replied, “You may be right.”  The parishioner responded rather heatedly, “What do you mean? Are you saying I may be wrong?”  The priest answered quietly, “You may be right.”

If you take the leaflet with the readings home with you, read the gospel lesson again.  Is this what Jesus is saying: Consider another person's intent from a positive perspective?  Practice compassion? Avoid behavior that might offend and cause people to lose connection with their source of hope? Keep your own relationship with God fresh? And finally practice peace?  And if all this is so, was Jesus right?  And if we decide Jesus was right, we must behave in ways that reflect his teaching!