The 7th Sunday after Pentecost - At What Price the Pearl?

King James Version of Matt. 13: 45-46 - "Again the kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man seeking goodly pearls: Who, when he has found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had and bought it."

The reason I chose to begin with the KJV is the way the pearl is described: "one pearl of great price."   The phrase "great price" evokes two ways of understanding that pearl: first, a very expensive gem stone made by an oyster and brought out of the ocean by a brave diver, as a sign of the amazingly wonderful relationship we will have with God--if we commit all to God or, second, something you desire so completely that you give all that you have to possess it--as in "What price are you willing to pay?"

The Rev. David Lose, a Lutheran pastor, describes Jesus’ parables in his blog, “In the meantime:”  

“Jesus’ parables remind us that the faith we preach and the kingdom we announce finally isn’t an intellectual idea but an experience, an experience of the creative and redemptive power of God that continues to change lives. And sometimes the only way to get beyond our head and into our hearts is to, as Emily Dickenson advised, “Tell all the truth but tell it slant.” And so parables come at us sideways, catching us by surprise to take our breath away at the beauty and depth of God’s promises.”

To come at this parable slant, I want to share the story of two lives with you.  They chose a pearl that many would say is no pearl at all, but I say it is. They each changed lives through an act of redemptive power.  This was the pearl they chose. In Jesus we believe the kingdom of heaven came here among us, but was not fully manifested.  In ways small and large we can recognize the reign of God is "already; not yet."  The "already" part of that phrase can lead us to choose to pay whatever price we need to pay for the pearl.

First, I was to tell you about Dr. Sheik Umar Khan. In Sierra Leone he headed a treatment facility for patients with the Ebola virus. The is a bad outbreak: Guinea - 310 deaths, 410 cases, Liberia - 116 deaths, 196 cases, Sierra Leone - 206 deaths, 442 cases.*

On Friday [7/25/14] during the NPR radio program, “All things considered,” Audie Cornish interviewed the doctor who hired Dr. Khan, Dr. Daniel Barusch.  Dr. Barusch, a researcher in tropical medicine at Tulane, said that he first recruited Dr. Khan 10 years ago to study another dread disease called Lassa fever.  He was so pleased to have a doctor of Dr. Khan’s caliber when many doctors were unwilling to undertake this dangerous work.  Many nurses are fearful and unwilling to work with these patients as well.  It is hard work to be so careful with procedures and to work in protective gear from head to toe in the tropical heat.  He spoke about what a positive attitude Dr. Khan has.  But now he has contracted the virus and is struggling for his life.

Now I want to tell you about Constance of Memphis [Tennessee] and her companions.  In 1878 a yellow fever epidemic raged.  Here is their story**:    “In August, 1878, Yellow Fever invaded the city of Memphis for the third time in ten years. By the month’s end the disease had become epidemic and a quarantine was ordered. While 30,000 citizens had fled in terror, 20,000 more remained to face the pestilence. As cases multiplied, death tolls averaged 200 daily. When the worst was over ninety percent of the population had contracted the Fever; more than 5,000 people had died.

“In that time of panic and flight, many brave men and women, both lay and cleric, remained at their posts of duty or came as volunteers to assist despite the terrible risk. Notable among these heroes were Constance, Superior of the work of the Sisters of St. Mary in Memphis, and her Companions. The Sisters had come to Memphis in 1873, at Bishop Quintard’s request, to found a Girls School adjacent to St. Mary’s Cathedral.

“When the 1878 epidemic began, George C. Harris, the Cathedral Dean, and Sister Constance immediately organized relief work among the stricken. Helping were six of Constance’s fellow Sisters of St. Mary; Sister Clare from St. Margaret’s House, Boston; the Reverend Charles C. Parsons, Rector of Grace and St. Lazarus Church, Memphis; and the Reverend Louis S. Schuyler, assistant at Holy Innocents, Hoboken. The Cathedral group also included three physicians, two of whom were ordained Episcopal priests, the Sisters’ two matrons, and several volunteer nurses from New York. 

“The Cathedral buildings were located in the most infected region of Memphis. Here, amid sweltering heat and scenes of indescribable horror, these men and women of God gave relief to the sick, comfort to the dying, and homes to the many orphaned children. Only two of the workers escaped the Fever. Among those who died were Constance, Thecla, Ruth and Frances, the Reverend Charles Parsons and the Reverend Louis Schuyler.”

The pearl that Dr. Khan and Constance and her companions purchased was the pearl of compassion for and service to those in desperate need. It cost them everything or in Dr. Khan’s case, perhaps almost everything.***  Yes, this is what the kingdom of heaven is like!

* BBC online 7/23/14

** http://liturgyandmusic.wordpress.com/2010/09/09/september-9-constance-nun-and-her-companions-commonly-called-%E2%80%9Cthe-martyrs-of-memphis%E2%80%9D-1878/

***Dr. Khan has died (July 29, 1914 – www.huffingtonpost.com).

The 6th Sunday after Pentecost - Tolerating Weeds??

The farming parable in the gospel reading from Matthew this week has a connection with actual concerns about the harvesting of wheat fields. Unlike the sower last week who cast seed without regard to the sort of soil where it would land, there is evidence that people may have been taking revenge on others or simply trying to spoil the harvest of a competitor by planting darnel seeds, a type of rye grass that looks like wheat in its early stages, in amongst the wheat seeds.  A Roman law prohibited the practice, which was most likely a response to planting darnel seeds.

Jesus opens this parable with the phrase:  "The kingdom of heaven may be compared to . . ."  A kingdom parable tells about how things will change from the way they are now to the way they will be when God reigns at "the end of the age."  As with the parable last week, Jesus explains what the parts of the parable mean--this time to his disciples who appear to want to be sure they understand--perhaps so they will be prepared to end up as one of the "shining" righteous.

Our interpretation of this parable and our concern about how we will end up can be found in the second verse of Hymn 290 - often sung at Thanksgiving:

All the world is God’s own field,

Fruit unto His praise to yield;

Wheat and tares together sown,

Unto joy or sorrow grown:

First the blade, and then the ear,

Then the full corn shall appear:

Lord of Harvest, grant that we

Wholesome grain and pure may be.

But what if our concern is not how we will end up, but how we are to manage until the harvest?  We are faced with the same dilemma the slaves of the householder encountered.  We find ourselves in situations where we believe something is wrong, where injustice appears to have the upper hand, where innocent people are being hurt.  Is Jesus suggesting that we should wait patiently, knowing that all turn out well in the end since God will judge "all causes of sin and all evildoers" and punish them?

The prophet Habakkuk (in the first chapter) could not abide waiting for God to act when his world is falling apart. He complains to God: "O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen? Or cry to you “Violence!” and you will not save? Why do you make me see wrong-doing and look at trouble? Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise. So the law becomes slack and justice never prevails. The wicked surround the righteous—therefore judgment comes forth perverted."

I think the world of the parable tells us simply one thing about taking action to remedy what we see as wrong:  Be cautious!  Don't act in a way that assumes you can tell who needs to be cast out. For your deciding what is good and what it bad and taking action may result in harm rather than benefit.  This parable teaches tolerance and bids us heed what may be the unintended consequences of our actions.

That being said, most situations that we face as people or as a nation don't fit easily into the mold of a kingdom parable—in large part because, unlike Jesus' disciples and Christians in the first half of the first century, we live in a way that shows we don’t believe the end of time—the “end of the age” in Matthew's words—will be here anytime soon.  Think of the insurance we buy and the savings we sock away for our later years.

Yet in the news we hear about situations that pull us into some sort of decision-making about who is good and who is bad.  To whom should we show compassion? Whom should we hold accountable with sanctions or with legal consequences?

Israel and Hamas are firing rockets at one another again.  Rebel separatists in eastern Ukraine, who have been given military equipment and training from Russia, may have shot down an airliner, killing almost 300 people who had nothing to do with their fight.  Immigrants under 18 who have no documentation are crossing into the United States as they seek to escape from the poverty and violence of their home countries.  We could come up with many more examples, I am sure.

As we express our opinions about what should be done and evaluate the effectiveness of our government's response, we'd do well to remember that actions can have good intentions (as in getting rid of the weeds) and still have disastrous outcomes (the uprooting of the wheat).  So let us be restrained in our judging and cautious in the actions we say should be taken in situations where good and bad appear to co-exist.  (There are situations where this is not true, but most situations we encounter will contain both good and bad.) For Jesus, righteousness does not require our always stamping what we see as evil. In a most outrageous way, he did tell us to love our enemies.

The 5th Sunday after Pentecost - July 13, 2014 - The Sower and the Soil

Jesus was teaching to a crowd standing on the beach while he sat in a boat.  Often beaches are slanted toward the water; perhaps they could hear him better in that setting--perhaps an amphitheater effect.  Perhaps the wind was blowing from the sea and carried his words to them.  In his teaching Jesus began with the command, "Listen!" and then he ended the parable with, "Let anyone with ears listen!"  Then he ends his explanation of the parable by describing the nature of the people who he hopes will respond to his teaching about God's kingdom and do something about it, comparing them to good soil, ". . . this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields  in one case a hundred fold, in another sixty, and in another thirty."

The parable's explanation makes this parable--despite Jesus' naming it for the sower--more a parable about soil--and the question that must follow is what sort of soil are you?  Are you loamy, fruitful soil able to attract people to God's Word, to Jesus and his way of loving God and neighbor?

Yet that question leads back to the sower:  why does the sower bother with sowing anywhere but fruitful soil?  Might you call him a careless, wasteful sower?  Can he not tell the difference between unfruitful soil and loam?  I'll never forget walking into a cornfield in Illinois and being struck by how different the soil looked from the soil I knew here in Delaware.  Dark and productive looking, it taught me what the word "loam" truly means.  And farmers don't plant their seed just anywhere--that would be just plain foolish!

Yes, both the soil and the sower are important to reflect on.  If God-in-Jesus could be seen the sower, might the correct descriptive words be "generous" or "hopeful" or "gracious?"  Unlike a farmer who must take care where he or she plants in order to maximize the yield, the sower in the parable cannot judge ahead of time what sort of soil is there.  And in terms of human beings, the sort of soil we are may change from one time to another.  Sometimes we understand; sometimes we don't.  Sometimes we let our worries get the best of us; other times we hear what God is trying to have us understand.  If God as sower does not pass judgment on the type of soil we are, we should not presume to either.

We must also see ourselves in the role of the sower as well.  Jesus sent his disciples--and sends us--into the world to spread the Good News of God's love and the eventual triumph of peace with justice in God's coming reign. I want to share a story with you about a pastor reaching out past the discomfort of evangelism to become a hopeful and gracious "sower."  His name is Steve Wilco from Amherst, Massachusetts. 

He begins, "I looked ridiculous. I was sitting in the campus center cafeteria wearing my clerical collar, something I’d been doing once a week for months. As the pastor of a congregation adjacent to campus, I was trying to get to know the students, but I had no idea how to start.

"I knew another minister who posted questions on a giant bulletin board, and I wondered if I could do the same thing. Then it occurred to me—I’d use a whiteboard as a facsimile of a Facebook wall. I purchased a 2' x 3' whiteboard and carried it into the campus center. Now I was risking my dignity. I imagined being asked to leave by the cafeteria managers or ridiculed by the students. I posted questions that tackled faith issues. “What are you most afraid of?” “What are you waiting for?” and “Love is . . .”

"People began slowing down to read the board. They were intrigued, and some offered comments as if they were grateful for a chance to express themselves.

"But the most intriguing result was that people started conversations—not with me, but with each other. In fact, most often people read the question and asked their friends for answers.

"They usually walked out of earshot before any answer was offered, though sometimes I could see that a good conversation had begun—and that I had no control over it. I had thought that I was risking my dignity; the risk was in putting something out into the world that had a life of its own.

"We take the same risk in Sunday worship. We give people the body of Christ and then send them out into the world to be that body. Like questions that begin conversations I will never hear, worship propels us into ministry that isn’t contained within the confines of the church. Thanks to the whiteboard, I began to imagine every worship gathering as a holy risk that we trust into God’s hands."

We can never know--in most instances--whether a conversation we have with someone about issues of faith has made a difference.  Yet we can be a non-judgmental "sower," listening well and speaking from the truth in our hearts about how God has worked in our lives.  Perhaps through our words there will a fruitful yield.  But as St. Paul explained about who gets credit in evangelism efforts, "So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God gives the growth." (I Cor. 3:7)  Let us trust in God's blessing on our work as "sowers" in God's name!

Steve Wilco’s reflection on “Risk,” The Christian Century, July 9, 2014, p. 27.

The 4th Sunday after Pentecost - July 6, 2014 - The War Within

How many of us have sinned in the past week?  Don’t worry--I’m not asking for a show of hands.

In St. Paul's letter to the Christians in Rome, he writes about a war going on within himself. What he perceives as God's law and the law of sin are both found within him.  He identifies the law of his mind with God and the law of sin in his body with evil.  He says, "For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do."  Does Paul truly see himself as being unable to escape his own evil desires? Or does he use this image of a war between good and evil within himself as a rhetorical device to show the power of God through Jesus Christ's life, death and resurrection. Whichever it is, Paul said that he is powerless over his desires that led him to sin.

In the Hebrew scriptures the Ten Commandments of the Mosaic Covenant as well as over 600 other laws tried to define what a righteous or a sin-filled life would involve.  From the Middle Ages comes a list of seven sins, which I've always thought includes just about everything that gets us into trouble: wrath, avarice or greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy, and gluttony.  And if at any time we think we're doing a pretty good job being righteous, we're probably being prideful in our perfectionist tendencies. Yes, perhaps Paul was right when he called himself a "wretched man."

What Jesus offered Paul and what Jesus offers us to combat our sinful inclinations, the heavy burdens that make us weary, is a yoke. Jesus' yoke presents a paradox--one of Jesus' favorite ways of teaching.  Normally a yoke represents enslavement or being forced into burdensome work (Think of yoked oxen.)  But Jesus calls his yoke easy and his burden light.  This can only be, because Jesus' yoke ties us to God's mercy and grace.  We can only take up the burden of our cross, as Jesus told us we must, if we have faith that God will be with us--yoked to us and we to God.

There is another view of human nature from the Native American tradition that I want to offer us to compare with that of St. Paul.  It, too, talks about a war within us. Here is the story of a Cherokee grandfather teaching his grandson about how to live*:

“A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.  “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: “Which wolf will win?”

You might [have] heard the story ends like this: The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

In the Cherokee world, however, the story ends this way:

The old Cherokee simply replied, “If you feed them right, they both win.” and the story goes on:

“You see, if I only choose to feed the [‘good’] wolf, the [‘evil’] one will be hiding around every corner waiting for me to become distracted or weak and jump to get the attention he craves. He will always be angry and always fighting the [‘good’] wolf. But if I acknowledge him, he is happy and the [‘good’] wolf is happy and we all win. For the [‘evil’] wolf has many qualities – tenacity, courage, fearlessness, strong-willed and great strategic thinking – that I have need of at times and that the [‘good’] wolf lacks. But the [‘good’] wolf has compassion, caring, strength and the ability to recognize what is in the best interest of all.

"You see, son, the [“good’] wolf needs the [‘evil’] wolf at his side. To feed only one would starve the other and they will become uncontrollable. To feed and care for both means they will serve you well and do nothing that is not a part of something greater, something good, something of life. Feed them both and there will be no more internal struggle for your attention. And when there is no battle inside, you can listen to the voices of deeper knowing that will guide you in choosing what is right in every circumstance. Peace, my son, is the Cherokee mission in life. A man or a woman who has peace inside has everything. A man or a woman who is pulled apart by the war inside him or her has nothing."

What this story offers us is a view of human nature that includes the original goodness that God saw when God made human beings in God’s image and pronounced them "good."  It also acknowledges the free will that God gave us, so we are able to choose God's way or not. Might Jesus’ easy yoke be a symbol of the way that leads to peace within?  Yoked to God by our own choice, we will be led to the way of "deeper knowing" and of peace. We will be led to choices that are "part of something greater, something good, something of life." We will not see ourselves as "wretched" ones, but as God's beloved--gifted with everything we need to live in peace.  

*”Beyond the Conflict of Inner Forces” by Cherokee Story (Feb 04, 2013) on www.awakin.org

2nd Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 7) - June 22, 2014 - Mire and High Water

The psalmist wrote, "Save me from the mire; do not let me sink; / let me be rescued from those who hate me / and out of the deep waters."  What had the psalmist gotten himself into and why?  If we read the psalm from the beginning, we know he claims to have been accused falsely and has become alienated from family members.. He may have been accused of stealing: "What I did not steal / must I now restore?" he says in verse 4. He also claims to care deeply about the temple.  Could the accusation stem from something he intended to offer at the temple—that whatever he offered was not his to offer?

What we can say with certainty is this: the psalmist appears to be isolated from others and hated by them.  He admits to doing some things that were wrong in verse 5.  Now he cries to God for help: "Answer me, O Lord, for your / steadfast love is good; / according to your abundant mercy turn to me . . . Draw near to me, redeem me, / set me free . . . "

In today's gospel reading from Matthew the situation Jesus finds himself in is very similar to that of the psalmist.  He's been falsely accused of being the prince of demons ("Beelzebub").  He knows anyone who follows him will be smeared with the same condemnation as well.  Jesus tries to reassure the disciples by describing God's "abundant mercy:"  "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your father. . . So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows."

At times our lives may be as desperate as the psalmist's or as desperate as Jesus knows the disciples' lives will become. To be stuck in the mud, to be up to our neck in deep water--we can relate to these colorful choices of images.  They can match our experience when we get into a conflict with someone with whom we disagree or with someone who holds us in contempt unfairly.  Jesus' description of family relationships being broken apart because of his ministry offers us a unblinking look at the cost of discipleship for the folks who followed him.

We, too, may find ourselves having to deal with water that is not only up to our necks, but is also choppy.  Choices we make and those other people make can be the source of conflicts and painful partings of the ways. When we fear a choice we are about to make will lead to pain for us--even though we are almost certain it's the right thing to do--we would do well to remember Jesus' assurance of God's care for us.

"So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows"--who are held securely in God's most loving regard.

I struggle with the reading from Jeremiah recounting his feelings about his persecutors and with Jesus' words about not coming to bring peace but a sword. In their historical contexts they are reasonable. But we must be careful how we apply in our own contexts.  When should we become righteously indignant and take action that may cause a situation to blow up?  Think Jesus' overturning the tables of the money changers in the temple? Or when should we act as a reconciling presence, a non-anxious presence, even if others are losing their cool?  Think Jesus gently redirecting Martha as she complained about her sister's lack of help: "Martha, Martha, you are worried and anxious about many things . . ."

Discernment of when, where and how to act in a conflicted situation often isn't easy.  The cost of being Jesus' disciple in such situations can be high.  Just as acting in an ethical and moral way when the context is corrupt or oppressive can be costly.  Yet we are called to be Christ's heart, hands and feet in the world.  We are called to work and pray for God's reign of peace with justice.

Frank Logue, an Episcopal priest and writer, reflected on the readings we heard today and the cost of discipleship:  "When your faith leads you to make public stands that are not popular, opposition will come. Problems will arise. This is to be expected. But we also know that we do not face these problems alone.

“The anchor has long been a symbol in Christian art for the hope that we have in Jesus Christ. Though storms may come, we have a sure and certain hope that gives us purchase on the rock. Hold fast to the faith that is in you, knowing that Jesus said, ‘Even the hairs of your head are counted. Do not be afraid.’

“Or to borrow the imagery of the psalmist, when [what’s] all around begins to seem like deep mire, count on your relationship with God to provide the firm ground on which you can stand. Jesus did not promise you a life of no battles, but he did promise the victory."

The Rev. Canon Frank S. Logue, “Facing battles with the promise of victory,” Sermons that Work, Episcopal Digital Network, June 22, 2014.

Trinity Sunday - June 15, 2014 - Three in One and One in Three

How is God for you?  When you think of God, what comes to mind?  How have you experienced God?

David L. Beck* - a Presbyterian pastor – wrote about a conversation with two children.  He called their words “the best help” he received in understanding how we can understand what “Trinity means:

“Rather than insisting that scripture make the doctrine of the Trinity explicit, perhaps we should allow the Trinity to remain implicit and affirm it out of our own experience, our own living with God. The best help I ever received in understanding how the idea of the Trinity may evolve from our Christian development rather than be imposed as an abstract formula came from two four-year-olds (one of them my own) with whom I spent a winter's afternoon18 years ago while their mothers were shopping. Somehow they decided that they were going to explain to me what they knew of the divine. They did it with such sincerity and enthusiasm that I still remember what they said.

“I needed to know they advised me, that first there was God and God loves. Long, long ago God made everything. God is everywhere and sees everything but you can't see God. On the other hand, they said, you can see Jesus or at least pictures of Jesus are because he was down here where we are.. Jesus is simply wonderful and loves us very much, children as much as grown-ups. If you can't see Jesus right now, it is because he is in heaven, but he stays in touch with us so well he might as well still be here. A lot of the time it seems as if he is.

“As they talked, however, they did not talk about God alone or Jesus alone, but of "God and Jesus." Together "God and Jesus" were a wonderful divine partnership who made the world a wonderful and beautiful place to be.

“From their perspective, nothing was missing. They had digested what was taught about God in the creation story and what was taught about Jesus in the Gospels. Had I shared with them the two parts of Paul's benediction, the blessing or prayer with which he ended 2 Corinthians, they would have understood it. After saying "The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ," I would need to explain the word grace as "a wonderful gift from Jesus that leaves you very happy," and they would have been able to connect with that. I would not have to say a thing about "the love of God" because they already believed that God loved them; that part of the prayer simply repeats something they already knew and believed.

“What they would not understand, however, would be the last part: "the communion of the Holy Spirit. . ."  It takes an adult self-consciousness – the experience of an adult living and trying to believe but knowing doubt, trying to do the right thing but knowing failure, trying to be confident but sensing despair – to also know that there is a part of God that helps us through those obstacles, a part which is different from God's love or Christ's gift of salvation.

“Sharing in that part of God leaves us able to say, with the conviction of Paul, that "nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." God is revealed as a loving Creator, a compassionate Savior and a mysterious presence allowing us to overcome what we could not on our own. This is the Trinity. It is the last thing to be said about God, after we have lived and grown and struggled. Then we discover that it was the Spirit that allowed us to cry, "Abba, Father" in the first place and to perceive God's saving love in Jesus Christ.”

Here are my reflections of Pastor Beck’s story:  It makes wonderful sense to me that we can understand God as trinity of persons, because we experience God that way.  The unity of God's being can be more difficult to deal with once you really focus on those separate persons.  This a prime critique of Christianity by the other two Abrahamic faiths.

As I meditate on the meaning of the Trinity, the three persons of the Trinity represent a community, which we can enter through Jesus' mediation.  In an abstract form the circle called perichoresis can depict that community.  [Point out the stained glass panel showing this.]  Perichoresis derives from the Greek peri, "around" and chorein, which has multiple meanings among them being "to make room for", "go forward" and "contain."

The Rublev icon of three “persons” shows the Trinity in a more “human” way—a better way, perhaps. [Their bodies have equal weight or space; they form a circle, but there is an opening at the front center of the group for someone to join them.] This sort of community we can imitate here during our earthly lives, including here in our parish.  It's a way to understand Jesus’ great commission to us at the end of Matthew’s gospel as well.  Because we have experienced the divine inclusiveness, Jesus tells us to go into the world and lead more and more people into the circle of God's love.  Is this how you have experienced God?

*David L. Beck, ‘Sharing the Holy Spirit,’ Living By the Word in “The Christian Century,” May 19, 1999.

                        

Pentecost - June 8, 2014 - "The Exponent of Breath"

From the Book of Genesis:  "In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters."

". . . then the Lord God  formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life."

From Ezekiel's vision of the dry bones:  God said to Ezekiel, "Prophesy to these bones and say to them: O, dry bones, hear the word of the Lord . . . Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God, Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.  (Ezekiel 37)

From the Acts of the Apostles: "And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting."

From John's gospel: Jesus said to the disciples, " 'Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ When he has said this, he breathed on them and said to them, 'Receive the. Holy Spirit.' "

Emily Dickinson wrote a poem called "Love." I believe "love" in this poem is synonymous with "God."   She wrote, "Love is anterior to life / Posterior to death, / Initial of creation, and / The exponent of breath."

Pentecost is a rather lame name for our celebration today.  Pentecost simply referees to the 50th day after Easter. Perhaps it should be called, Fire-Wind-Breath Sunday. For God works through these things to reveal God's self to us and to achieve life for all humanity.

My mind has been returning all week to the word "breath."   How tremendously essential our breathing in oxygen is!  The end of our lives can be marked by our breathing rate slowing and slowing until we are no longer breathing.   When breathing becomes difficult due to illnesses such as pneumonia, emphysema, or lung cancer, we can become anxious--often making it even more difficult to breathe.

So the expectation of wind blowing, resulting in God's breath entering a human, speaks to life and energy.  We call this energizing force, the Holy Spirit, and celebrate her presence among us.

Yet at another level, a very deep level, our breath can become a holy place, for recognizing God’s presence within each one of us.  The Jesus Prayer shows this very clearly.   Said in the rhythm of our breathing in and breathing out, we can quiet ourselves to find God's holy presence within.  It goes like this: "Jesus, son of the living God, have mercy on me."  Some add "a sinner."  In truth, all you really need to say is "Jesus."—or simply think "Jesus" with each breath.

Imagine, for a moment, the room in which the fearful disciples had gathered. Jesus' greeting of "Peace be with you" changed the tenor of disciples mood from one of fear to one of joy. But their joy did not show itself as the babble of languages, which led the disciples being accused of drunkenness.  Rather, they seemed to have held their breath for a moment as Jesus commissions them a way they could not have imagined even an hour before: "As the Father has sent me, so I send you."   Then he breathes on them and declares the gift of the Holy Spirit.  He breathes on them not only to energize them for mission, but also to give them the awareness of God's presence within.  For only with God's presence within could they hope to be witnesses to God's forgiving love in a hostile world.

So we have two examples of God revealing God's self in our scripture readings today.  One appears quite lively with rushing wind and fire-like tongues identifying those commissioned to be apostles.  In tension with this is the story in John's gospel of Jesus’ commissioning the disciples with a few words and a simple breath.  If you were you among the disciples at that moment, in which setting would you like to be?  Your responses may break down along extrovert vs. introvert lines.  But the key thing to remember, I believe, is Jesus' breathing on the disciples showed how God's sustaining presence came to them—and comes to us.

May every prayer-filled breath we take show us Jesus!  Yes, God's love for us truly is the "exponent of breath."