Jamie Parsley's Blog, page 12

3 Advent

GaudeteSunday

 

December17, 2023

 

Isaiah 61.1-4, 8-11;1 Thes. 5.16-24; John 1.6-8, 19-28

 

+ As you know, I just got back from aseveral days in Las Vegas on Friday night

 

I had a great time.

 

But yesterday, I posted on Facebook aphoto of a priest in a rose-colored chasuble, and wrote, Tomorrow is GaudeteSunday. You know what that means…”

 

 

Fr. John Floberg, the priest who serveson Standing Rock, responded by saying,

 

“Bythe looks of your facebook posts last week I would imagine that you might notneed to relax your Advent Disciplines very much this week. LOL.”

 

I responded:

 

“you should've seen how disciplined I wasin Vegas...”

 

Fr. John then said,

 

“Ibet you abstained from meat the whole time!”

 

Which I did!

 

See how ascetic I am!

 

The fact is: I was very disciplined inVegas. Trust me.

 

I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’tgamble. And yes, I do not eat meat.

 

And this time, my cousins Renaye, Mandyand I only spent a little time on the Strip.

 

We instead explored some strange andkitschy places like the Golden Tiki, a retro Tiki bar which has amazinglyrealistic shrunken heads of celebrities on the walls, Omega Mart and Area 15which was some kind of psychedelic grocery store that was amazing, saw amind-blowing movie at the brand-new Sphere and visited Zak Bagan’s HauntedMuseum.

 

But Fr. John Floberg is right.

 

Gaudete Sunday is a day in which we getto take a little break from our Advent disciplines.

 

That is, if we have been discipliningourselves during Advent.

 

Gaudete Sunday, or Rose Sunday, isalways a special Sunday here at St. Stephen’s and for the Church as a whole.

 

Traditionally, on Gaudete Sunday, welight the lone pink candle on the Advent wreath.

 

Lighting the pink candle is a sign tous that the shift has happened.

 

Now there are more candles lit than areunlit on the wreath.

 

The light has won out and the darkness,we are realizing, is not an eternal darkness.

 

But most importantly, Gaudete means“rejoice.”

 

And that is exactly what we should bedoing on this Sunday.

 

We should rejoice in the light that iswinning out over the darkness.

 

We should rejoice in the fact thatdarkness has no lasting power over us.

 

We should rejoice in all that God hasdone for us and continues to do for us in our lives, in our ministries and hereparticularly at St. Stephen’s.

 

This Sunday sets a tone different thanthe one we’ve had so-far in Advent.

 

We find this word—rejoice—ringing outthroughout our scriptural readings today.

 

It is the “theme” of the day.

 

Rejoice!

 

It is the emotion that permeateseverything we hear in the Liturgy of the Word on this Sunday.

 

In our reading from the Hebrew scriptures,in Isaiah, we hear

 

I will greatlyrejoice in the Lord,

my whole being shallexult in my God;

 

In our Epistle, we find even Paul—whoseems a bit, shall we say, dour at times— rejoicing.

 

“Rejoice always,” he writesto the church at Thessalonika.

 

And, although the word “rejoice” cannotbe found in our Gospel reading for today, the sentiment is there.

 

John the Baptist, we are told, was notthe light, but came to testify to the light—that light being, of course, Jesus,God’s Messiah.

 

Again, that is something about which torejoice.

 

Even when it seems like the Light isstill far off, even then we rejoice.

 

This emotion of joy is something weoftentimes take for granted.

 

Let’s face it, joy doesn’t happen oftenenough in our lives.

 

It certainly doesn’t happen enough inmy life.

 

I wish it did.

 

It is a rare occurrence for the mostpart.

 

And maybe it should be.

 

It is certainly not something we wantto take for granted.

 

When joy comes to us, we want to let itflow through us.

 

We want it to overwhelm us.

 

But we often don’t think about howessential joy is to us.

 

Joy is essential to all of us asChristians.

 

It is one of those marks that make uswho we are as Christians.

 

Or it should anyway.

 

We should be joyful.

 

We have a God who loves us, who knowsus, who wants the very best for us.

 

We have a God who reaches out to us inthe Light of Jesus, God’s Son and our Messiah, that we celebrate at this timeof the year.

 

That alone is a reason to be joyful.

 

But, sadly, as we all know, therearen’t always that many joyful Christians.

 

We have all known those dour-facedChristians, those Christians who are angry or bitter or false.

 

And right now we’re seeing a lot ofcrazy, insane Christians acting terribly in the name of Christ.

 

To me, any act of hate or lawlessnessin the Name of God is nothing less than sacrilege!

 

There are those Christians for whom asmile is a chore.

 

That is not what God intends for us.

 

We all should be joyful Christians.

 

“Should” is the word.

 

Still, as we all know, there aremoments.

 

There are moments when we simply cannotmuster joy.

 

No matter how much we try to break thehold the hard, difficult things of life have placed on us, it is hard sometimesto feel real joy.

 

Cultivating joy in the midst ofoverwhelming sorrow or pain or loneliness or depression or estrangement canseems overwhelming and impossible.

 

That’s why joy really is a discipline.

 

When things like sorrow or pain orloneliness or depression or anger or resentment descend upon—and they descendupon us all—we need, in those moments, to realize that joy might not be with usin that moment, but—and here’s the important thing—joy always returns.

 

Joy always returns.

 

We need to search deep within us forthat joy that we have as Christians.

 

And when we search for it, we will find it, even when life seems somiserable and so overwhelming.

 

That joy often comes when we put ourpains into perspective.

 

That joy comes when we recognize thatthese dark moments that happen in our lives are not eternal.

 

They will not last forever.

 

Darkness never lasts forever.

 

That, I think, is where we sometimesfail.

 

When we are in the midst of thosenegative emotions in our lives, we often feel as though they will never end.

 

We often feel as though we will alwaysbe lonely, we always be sad, we will always mourn.

 

As Christians, we can’t allow ourselvesto be boxed in by despair.

 

As Christians, we are forced, again andagain, to look at the larger picture—at God’s larger picture. 

 

We are forced to see that joy is alwaysthere, just beyond our grasp, awaiting us.

 

Joy is there when we realize that inthe midst of our darkness, there is always light just beyond our reach.

 

And when it comes back into our lives,it truly is wonderful…

 

Because that is what God wants for us.

 

Joy not always something one is able toidentify in a person.

 

Joy doesn’t mean walking around smilingall the time.

 

It doesn’t mean that we have forceourselves to be happy at all times in the face of every bad thing.

 

If we do that, joy becomes false andforced.

 

True joy comes bubbling up from withinus.

 

It is a true grace.

 

Remember last week when I talked aboutgrace.

 

Last week, I defined grace in verysimple terms:

 

Grace is a gift we receive from God weneither ask for nor anticipate.

 

In that way, joy is a gift we are giventhat we simply don’t ask for.

 

Rather, it comes from a deep place andit permeates our whole being, no matter what else is going on in our lives orin the world around us.

 

It is a joy that comes from deep withinour very essence—from that place of our true selves.

 

And, let me tell you from my ownexperience, joy can still be present in times of mourning, in times ofdarkness, in times of despair.

 

It might not be joy at its greatesteffect, but there are glimmers of joy even in those dark times.

 

Advent is, as I said on the firstSunday of Advent, essentially, a penitential season.

 

It is a time, as Fr. Floberg referenced,a time of discipline.

 

It is a time for us to recognize thatwe are slugging through the muck of our lives—a muck we are at least, in part,responsible for.

 

But Advent is also a time for us to beable to rejoice even in the midst of that muck.

 

It is a time for us realize that wewill not be in that muck forever.

 

The muck doesn’t win out.

 

God wins out.

 

Christ’s light in this world is morepowerful than any darkness.

 

And Christ’s light always wins out.

 

Our light—the Light of Christ within us—willoutlast whatever darkness we are experiencing right now in our own lives or inthe world.

 

See, even in the face of darkness, wefind hope and we can find joy.

 

The joy we carry deep within is toopowerful to die.

 

This powerful joy will win out andoutlast any darkness.

 

So, this morning, let us remember thejoy we feel at seeing this pink candle lit.

 

Let us carry the spirit of thisrose-colored Sunday with us.

 

Yes, I will say it: let us look at lifewith rose-colored glasses (we can legitimately do that today!)

 

We have made it this far.

 

The tide has shifted.

 

The light is winning out.

 

The dawn is about to break upon ourlong dark night.

 

As we ponder this, as we meditate onthis, as we take this with us in our hearts, let us pay special attention tothe emotion this causes within us.

 

Let us embrace that welling up of joyfrom deep within.

 

And let it proclaim with our lips thewords we, along the prophet Isaiah, long to say:

 

I will greatlyrejoice in the Lord,

my whole being shallexult in my God!

 

Let us pray.

We rejoice greatly in you, Loving God; even in our darknessyou send us Light—the Light of our Savior Christ. Even when we feel alone andabandoned, you come close to us and hold us close. We rejoice in you today, andall our days, who comes to us again and again in the person of Jesus our Lord,in whose name we pray. Amen.

 

2 Advent

 

December 10, 2023

 

Isaiah40.1-11; Mark 1.1-8

 

+One thing we often hear about if any of us have been Christians for any periodof time is the big question:

 

Whatmust one do to be saved?

 

Becausemany of us who believe really do have a fear of hell and eternal damnation,especially those of us who came from churches that preached those things on aregular basis.

 

Now,in many churches, we heard that all one had to do to gain heaven and gloriouseternity was make this simple statement: I accept Jesus Christ as my personalLord and Savior.  

 

Therest of us, who didn’t make this statement, were in deep trouble.

 

Now,on some level, that makes some sense.

 

Itseems simple.  

 

Ifsomeone doesn’t accept God, then Godt shouldturn away from those who didn’t accept God.

 

Afterall, we would turn our backs on those who would not accept us, right? .

 

Andthere should be a place where we had to pay for the wrongs we did.

 

Wesimply can’t sin and expect not to pay for it in some way, right?

 

Butcertainly for me, in my own spiritual life, as I grew into my relationship withGod and as I started to look long and hard at everything I have believed, Irealize that there is one thing those people who believe that way have  missed.

 

Itwas one simple little word:

 

Grace.

 

Now,my very simplistic definition of grace is this:

 

Graceis a gift we receive from God that we neither ask for nor necessarily deserve.

 

Inthe Gospel we heard this morning, we hear the echoing words of John theBaptist.

 

The one who ismore powerful than I is coming after me;

 

Heis that lone voice calling to us in the wilderness.

 

Itis a voice of hope.

 

Itis a voice of substance.

 

Itis a voice of salvation.

 

Moreimportantly, John’s message is a message of Grace.

 

Thispowerful One is coming!

 

There’sno avoiding it. 

 

Godis coming to us.

 

Thisis the ultimate grace in a very real sense.

 

Althoughwe have been hoping for God to come to us and save us, it is not something thatwe have necessarily asked for or deserve.

 

Godcomes to us in God’s own time.

 

Itis this one fact—grace—that makes all the difference in the world.

 

Itis what makes the difference between eternal life and eternal damnation.

 

Now,there are those who believe that there is an eternal hell.  

 

Andif you’re not right with God, they say, that’s exactly where you’re going.

 

Thefault in this message is simple: none of us are right with God.  

 

Aslong as we are on this side of the veil, so to speak, we fall short of what Godwants for us.

 

Wehave all sinned and we will all sin again.  

 

That’sthe fact.

 

Butthat’s where grace comes in.   

 

Graceis, excuse my language, the trump card.

 

Gracesets us free.

 

Graceinvolves one simple little fact that so many followers of Jesus seem tooverlook.

 

Andthis is the biggest realization for me as a follower of Jesus Christian:

 

Just because one doesn’taccept God doesn’t mean that God doesn’t accept us.

 

Godaccepts us.  

 

Plainand simple.  

 

Evenif we turn our backs on God.  

 

Evenif we do everything in our limited powers to separate ourselves from God, thefact of the matter is that nothing can separates from God.  

 

Godaccepts every single person—no matter what we believe, or don’t believe, nomatter if God is some abstract concept to us or a close, personal friend.

 

That’sright, I did say “personal.”  

 

Because,yes, it’s wonderful and beautiful to have a personal relationship with God. 

Ourpersonal relationship with God is essential to our faith, as you have heard mesay many, many times.

Butthe fact is, God or Jesus isn’t the personalsavior to any one of us in this place.  

Godsaves all of us, equally.

That is grace.

Thatis how much God loves us.

Now,I have preached this message my entire adult life as a Christian, and certainlyas priest.

And,as you can imagine, there have been, shall we say, a few critics.

Andsome of these critics—actually quite a few of these critics—have been quitevocal.

Theydon’t like my “universalism.”

Infact, I once preached this very same message one evening not long after I wasordained to the priesthood in a very diverse venue of     what I thought were somewhat progressiveLutherans.

Later,I learned, I was essentially blackballed from that venue for that sermon.

Ialso preached it once at another congregation, at which I was a guest.

AfterI preached it, the presider at the service actually got up and “corrected” mysermon in front of everybody.

Criticsof this message say that what I am talking about is “cheap grace.”

Cheapgrace?

No,I counter.

AndI still counter!

Againand again.

No,not cheap grace. 

It’sactually quite expensive grace.

Itwas grace bought at quite a price.

Andno, I’m not being naïve or fluffy here.   

Trustme, I have known some truly despicable people in my life.  

Ihave been hurt by some of these people and I have seen others hurt by thesepeople.

Theworld is full of people who are awful and terrible.  

Andsometimes the most awful and terrible person we know is the one staring back atus in our own mirrors.

Butthe fact is, that even when we can’t love them or ourselves, when we can’t doanything else but feel anger and hatred toward them, God does love them.  

Godaccepts them, just as God accepts each of us.

Goddoesn’t necessarily accept their actions. God doesn’t accept their sins, ortheir failings, or their blatant embrace of what is wrong.

But,not even their despicable nature can separate them from God’s love.  

Nothing—noteven priests or bishops—can separate us from God’s love.  

Thatis how God works in this world.

Thatis why God sent Jesus to us, to give us an example of how to live our lives asbeloved children of God. .

Ibelieve in that image we hear from our reading from the prophecies of Isaiah today:

 

[God]will feed [God’s] flock like a shepherd;

[God] will gather the lambs in [God’s] arms,

andcarry them in [God’s] bosom,

 W

ewill be gathered up by our God, and we will be carried into our God’s bosom.

 

Ilove that image!

 

Becauseit conveys God’s true and abiding love for us. 

 

It’sa hard concept for those us who were taught otherwise.  

 

ButI do believe it.  

 

Ibelieve it because of the personal relationship I have with God.  

 

TheGod I have come to know and to love and to serve is simply that full of love.

 

So,do I believe we’re all going to heaven when we die?

 

Well,yes.

 

Ireally do believe that. 

 

Why?

 

Because,the love of God is just that big.  

 

Itis just that wonderful and just that all-encompassing.

 

Itis just that powerful.  

 

Ifone person is in some metaphysical, eternal hell for being a despicable person,then, you know what?  the love of God hasfailed.  

 

Somethinghas, in fact, come between that person and God.

 

Ido not believe that hell or Satan or sin or the Church or anything else is big enough to separate us fully and completelyfrom God. 

 

Noteven we, ourselves, can turn our backs on God because wherever we turn, God isthere for us.

 

So,listen.  

 

Inthis Advent season of hope,  John’s voiceis calling to us from the wilderness.  

 

Heis saying,

 

Godis near.

 

Godis coming to us.

 

Letus go out, in grace, to meet our God!

 

Letus pray.

 

Cometo us, Holy God. Come soon to us. Come to us with power and glory. And grace. Andlet us know that no matter how often we may turn our backs on you, you havenever once turned your back on us. You have always been with us and remain withus. And that nothing in all the world can separate us from you. For this, weare truly thankful today. Amen.

 

 

A Letter from Fr. Jamie

 

December 9, 2023

 

Dear St. Stephen’s family,

 

The other day I was told Iwas a “rebel priest.” At first, I didn’t know how to respond to that. But as Ithought about it, I realize: yes, I am. And rather than evade that monicker, Ineed to embrace it.

But I also realized: I am arebel priest at a rebel parish. We are rebellious and defiant and passionatelytrying to live out the message of the Gospel, and the revolutionary commandmentof God to love God and love others as fully and completely as we can. We have Christin our Eucharist, in the hearing and proclaiming of the Word and in ourpresence with one another.

In addition, we have abeautiful High Church liturgy. We have bells and music and, at our Wednesdayevening Mass, incense.

Most importantly, we have passionand commitment.

And we not only radically welcomepeople, but we also include them fully and completely. No one is ostracizedhere. No one here is turned away. No one here is snubbed or shunned or lookedat strangely.

We are gay and straight,trans and cis, asexual or non-sexual, straight or “out there.” We are normaland weird, staid and radical, old and young. And everything in-between. We areimperfect but striving to be better than we are and in doing so to make theworld a better place as well—to make the Reign of God real and present in thisworld.

Everyone knowswe are welcoming. It is not secret that we are fully accepting. We are alsovery strong and committed. And when we stand up for something, we STAND UP. Andwe speak out loudly!

We wereinclusive before inclusivity was expected of the Church. We welcomed andincluded people when other churches discarded or turned away. And we continueto do that. And we do so unapologetically.

That is what St. Stephen’sis.  

As I write this, we aregetting ready to have our Pledge In-Gathering, which finishes the one time ofthe year in which we ask for your help to help being the unique, eclecticparish we are. We cannot do it without your pledges. We cannot do it withoutyour time and your talent.

If you have already pledged,THANK YOU!! Thank you for contributing to the unique ministry wedo here.

For those of you who have not pledged or have simply forgotten, itnever too late. But, please do so.   Please consider filling outa pledge card and returning it so we can continue to do what we do.Or simply fill out our name and the amount you can pledge and send it by emailto Laura Nylander at laura.nylander56@gmail.com  Or you can do a one-timepledge through our Paypal account at Ststephensfargo.org or by simply sending acheck (also marked “pledge”) to 120 20 Avenue North Fargo.  All pledges arestrictly confidential. Only Laura knows who gives what.

People assume pledging is so much harder than it really is. Apledge can be as little as $10 or #25 or $50 a month.

Or you can give a one-time pledge of the amountyou feel most comfortable with.

          Your pledge is not aboutpaying my salary. Your pledge is not only about paying the bills of St.Stephen’s. Your pledge is about contributing to a parish that makes adifference in this community, in the world and in our individual lives. Ithelps us be the place we are. It helps us as we continue to grow, continue towelcome new people each week in our doors, continue to be a place where God’sSpirit is alive and is shared with ALL people, no matter who they are.  But more importantly, we do whatwe say we do: when dire situations happen within the lives of our parishioners,we are there to help, to lend support, to be a supporting presence. That iswhat your pledge supports here.

          Morethan anything, however, please know how grateful and humbled I am to be servingas your Rector and priest. I am truly blessed by God to be serving a parishthat is excited about what it is doing, that is renewed by its energy andcommitted to its very radical following of Jesus. Thank you for all you havegiven to me.

 

-peace,

Fr. Jamie+

1 Advent

 

December 3, 2023

 

1 Corinthians 1.3-9; Mark 13.24-37

 

+ Well, it is the firstSunday of Advent.

This season in which we, as the Church, turn our attention,just like the rest of the world, toward Christmas.

It’s important to remember: it’s NOT Christmas yet.

Advent is its own season.

But this season is a season of waiting.

It is a time ofpreparation.

 

It is a time toremind ourselves that our time is limited.

 

It is a time in whichwe realize we need to get our affairs in order.

 

And there are manyways we can do that.

 

We are forced, duringthis season, to realize that in God’s own time, in God’s own ways, everythingwill one day be made right.

 

The imbalances ofthis life will one day be balanced.

 

And that those thingsthat divide us will one day be healed.

 

And that when all ofthat happens, there will be a true and abiding joy.

 

I am grateful on thisfirst Sunday of Advent for the reconciliations in my own life.

 

I am grateful to havea relationship with others that have been healed.

 

Life seems a littleless lonely now.

 

Life seems a littleless dangerous and dark.

 

And, for me anyway,that is the real message of Advent.

 

We go through Adventas a way of preparing, spiritually,  forChristmas, for the birth of the Messiah.

 

We do so by strivingto shed ourselves of those dark things in our lives.

 

We do so by strivingto shed darkness and division and anger and fear.

 

And in this way, Ithink the Church year reflects our own lives in many ways.

 

That is what Adventis like.

 

We know this joyousevent is coming, but to truly enjoy it, we need to prepare for it the best wecan.

 

To truly enjoy thisgreat Day, we need to try to shed those things in our lives that prevent usfrom feeling true joy.

 

Advent then is also atime of deep anticipation.

 

It is a time of waiting. 

 

And in that way, Ithink is represents our own spiritual lives in a way other times of the churchyear don’t.

 

We are, after all, apeople anticipating something.

 

We are hoping forsomething

 

Something.

 

But what?

 

Well, our scripturesgive us a clue.

 

But what they talkabout isn’t something that we should necessarily welcome with joy.

 

In our reading formIsaiah this morning, we find the prophet saying to God,

 

O thatyou would tear open the heavens and come down,

so that the mountains would quake at your presence--

aswhen fire kindles brushwood
and the fire causes water to boil--

tomake your name known to your adversaries,
so that the nations might tremble at your presence!

 

That doesn’t soundlike a pleasant day to be anticipating.

 

Even Jesus, echoingIsaiah, says in our Gospel reading:

 

 In those days, after that suffering,

thesun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,

andthe stars will be falling from heaven,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.

 

Then they will see “the Sonof Man coming in clouds” with great power and glory. 

Well, that’s maybe abit better, but it’s still pretty foreboding.

 

However, it doesn’tneed to be all that foreboding.

 

Essentially, all ofthis is talk about “the day of the Lord” or the day when the Son of Man willcome in the clouds” is really  all aboutwaiting for God, or for God’s Messiah.

 

It is all about Godbreaking through to us.

 

That is what Adventis all about.

 

God breaking throughto us.

 

God coming to uswhere are we are.

 

God cutting throughthe darkness of our lives, with a glorious light.

 

For the Jews inJesus’ time, waiting like we are, for the Messiah, they had specific ideas ofwhat this Messiah would do.

 

Oppressed as theywere by a foreign government—the Romans—with an even more foreignreligion—paganism—, they expected someone like themselves to come to them andtake up a sword.

 

This Messiah woulddrive away these foreign influences and allow them, as a people, to rise up andgain their rightful place.

 

And for those hearingthe prophet Isaiah, the God who came in glory on that day would strike down thesinful, but also raise up those who were sorry.

 

The fact is, as weall know by now,  God doesn’t workaccording to our human plans.

 

We can’t control Godor make God do what we want.

 

And if we try, let metell you, we will be deeply disappointed.

 

The Messiah that cameto the people of Jesus’ day—and to us—was no soldier.

 

There was no sword inhis hand.

 

The “Son of Man” thatcame to them—and to us--was a baby, a child who was destined to suffer, just aswe suffer to some extent, and to die, as we all must die.

 

But, what we arereminded of is that God’s Messiah will come again.

 

It is about whathappened then, and what will happen.

 

This time of Adventis a time of attentiveness to the past, the present, and the future.

 

Attentiveness is thekey word.

 Actually, in our Gospel reading fortoday, we get a different way of stating it.

 

We get a kind of verbal alarm clock.

 

And we hear it in two different ways:

 

“Keep alert.”

 

“Keep awake.”

 

Jesus says it just those two ways inour reading from Mark: It seems simple enough.

 

“Keep alert” and “keep awake.”

 

Or to put it more bluntly, “Wake up!”

 

But is it simple?

 

Our job as Christians is sometimes nomore than this.

 

It is simply a matter of staying awake,of being attentive or being alert, of not being lazy.

 

Our lives as Christians are sometimessimply responses to being spiritually alert.

 

For those of us who are tired, who areworn down by life, who spiritually or emotionally fatigued, our sluggishnesssometimes manifests itself in our spiritual life and in our relationship withothers.

 

When we become impatient in ourwatching, we sometimes forget what it is we are watching for.

 

We sometimes, in our fatigue, fail tosee.

 

For us, that “something” that we arewaiting for, that we are keeping alert for, is none other than that glorious“day of our Lord Jesus Christ,” that we hear St. Paul talk about in his epistlethis morning.

 

That glorious day of God breakingthrough to us comes when, in our attentiveness, we see the rays of the lightbreaking through to us in our tiredness and in our fatigue.

 

It breaks through to us in variousways.

 

We, who are in this sometimes foggypresent moment, peering forward, sometimes have this moments of wonderfulspiritual clarity.

 

Those moments are truly being alert—ofbeing spiritually awake.

 

Sometimes we have it right here, inchurch, when we gather together.

 

I have shared with each of you at timeswhen those moments sometimes come to me.

 

There are those moments when we cansay, without a doubt: Yes, God exists!

 

But, more than that.

 

It is the moments when we say, God isreal.

 

God is near.

 

God knows me.

 

God loves me.

 

And, in that wonderful moment, in thatholy moment, the world about us blossoms!

 

This is what it means to be awake, tonot be lazy.

 

See, the day the prophet talks about asa day of fear and trembling is only a day of fear and trembling if we aren’tawake.

 

For those of us who are awake, whotruly see with our spiritual eyes, the day of the Lord is a glorious day.

 

For us, we see that God is our Parent.

 

Or as Isaiah says,

 

 O Lord,you are our Father;

 

 

We are God’s fully loved and fully accepted children.

 

And then Isaiah goes on to say that

 

we are theclay, and you are our potter; 
we are all the work of your hand.

 

 

Certainly, in a very real sense,today—this First Sunday of Advent— is a day in which we realize this fact.

 

Advent is a time for us to allow God toform us and make us in God’s image.

 

It is a time for us to maybe be kneadedand squeezed, but, through it all, we are being formed into somethingbeautiful.

 

The rays of that glorious day when Godbreaks through to us is a glorious day!

 

And it is a day in which we realize weare all God’s loved and accepted children.

 

In this beautiful Sarum blue Adventseason, we are reminded that the day of God’s reaching out to us is truly aboutdawn upon us.

 

The rays of the bright sun-lit dawn arealready starting to lighten the darkness of our lives.

 

We realize, in this moment, that,despite all that has happened, despite the disappointments, despite the losses,despite politics, despite the pain each of us has had to bear, the ray of thatglorious Light breaks through to us in that darkness and somehow, makes it allbetter.

 

But this is doesn’t happen in aninstant.

 

Oftentimes that light is a gradualdawning in our lives.

 

Oftentimes, it happens gradually so wecan adjust to it, so it doesn’t blind us.

 

Sometimes, our awakening is in stages,as though waking from a deep, slumbering sleep.

 

Our job as Christians is somewhatbasic.

 

I’m not saying it’s easy.

 

But I am saying that it is basic.

 

Our job, as Christians, especially inthis Advent time, is to be alert.

 

To be awake.

 

Spiritually and emotionally.

 

And, in being alert, we must seeclearly.

 

We cannot, when that Day of Christdawns, be found to lazy and sloughing.

 

Rather, when that Day of our Lord Jesusdawns, we should greet it joyfully, with bright eyes and a clear mind.

 

We should run toward that dawn as wenever have before in our lives.

 

We should let the joy within us—the joywe have hid, we have tried to kill—the joy we have not allowed ourselves tofeel—come pouring forth on that glorious day.

 

And in that moment, all those miserablethings we have been dealt—all that loss, all that failure, all thatunfairness—will dissipate like a bad dream on awakening.

 

“Keep alert,” Jesus says to us.

 

“Keep awake.”

 

It’s almost time.

 

Keep awake because that “something” youhave been longing for all your spiritual life is about to happen.

 

It is about to break through into ourlives.

 

And it is going to be glorious.

 

Let us pray.

 

O God of glory, our God and Parent, weare longing for you in the darkness of our lives to break through to us; tocome to us in this place and shed your Light upon us. And we know that when youdo, it will truly be a glorious Day. We ask this in the name of your Messiah,Jesus our Savior. Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

Christ the King -- Christ in Majesty

 

November26, 2023

 

Ezekiel 34.11-16, 20-24; Matthew 25.31-46

 

+ Today is of course Christ the KingSunday.

 

Now, as most of you know, I have issueswith authority.

 

I bristle at talk of rulers and kinds(and Presidents).

 

But for some reason, I don’t have muchof an issue with the idea of Christ as King, despite my deep-seated issues withauthority.

 

I love this idea of God as Ruler.

 

And, as you know, I love preachingabout the Kingdom or Reign of God.

 

Jesus did it all the time.

 

The Reign of God is a good thing topreach about.  

 

But, it’s an important Sunday foranother reason.

 

It is the last Sunday in that verylong, green season of Pentecost.

 

Today, for the Church, it is New Year’sEve.

 

The old church year of Sundays—ChurchYear A—ends today.

 

The new church year—Church YearB—begins next Sunday, on the First Sunday of Advent.

 

So, what seems like an ending today isrenewed next week, with the coming of Advent, in that revived sense of longingand expectation that we experience in Advent.

 

Today, we get a great reading from theProphet Ezekiel.

 

We hear God saying things throughEzekiel  like,

 

“I will seek out my sheep. I will rescue them from all the placesto which they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness.” 

 

And (I love this one)

 

“I feed them with justice.”

 

We also get to hear Jesus tell us thatstory of the sheep and the goats, echoing in many ways our reading from Ezekiel.

 

Now, I actually love this parable—notbecause of its threat of punishment (which everyone gets hung up on), notbecause of its judgment.

 

I love this story because there issomething beautiful and subtle going on just beneath the surface, if you takethe moment to notice.

 

And that subtle aspect of this story isthis:

 

If you notice, the reward is given notto people who work for the reward.

 

The reward is not given to people whohelp the least of their brethren because they know they will gain the reward.

 

The reward is granted to those who helpthe least of their brethren simply because the least need help.

 

The reward is for those who have noregard or idea that a reward even awaits them for doing such a thing.

 

Now I don’t think I need to tell anyonehere who the least of our brethren are.

 

The least of our brethren are the oneswho are hungry, who are thirsty, who are naked, who are sick and who are inprison.

 

I think this ties in beautifully to ourown ideas of why we do what we do as followers of Jesus.

 

I preach this a lot!!

 

Why do we do what we do, we must askourselves?

 

Do we do these things because we thinkwe’re going to get a reward for doing them?

 

Or do we do these things because bydoing them we know it goes for a greater reward than anything we ourselvescould get?

 

In our Gospel reading today, we findthat the Kingdom of God is prepared for those who have been good stewards, whodo good for the sake of doing good.

 

It is prepared for those who have beenmindful of what has been given to them and have been mindful of those aroundthem in need.

 

It is a great message during thisstewardship time

 

For us, we need to realize that theKingdom is prepared for us as well.

 

It is prepared for us who have soughtto be good stewards without any thought of eternal reward.

 

For us who strive to do good for thesake doing good.

 

It is prepared for us who have simplydone what we are called to do as followers of Jesus.

 

To love God, and to love others.

 

That is why we do good.

 

For us, in our own society, we findthat these same terms found in Jesus’ parable have a wider definition.

 

Hungry for us doesn’t just mean hungryfor food.

 

It means hungry for love, for healing,for wholeness.

 

Hungry to be included, and treated asequals.

 

It means hungry, also, for God.

 

Thirsty doesn’t just mean for water.

 

Thirsty for us means thirsty forfairness or justice or peace.

 

And thirsty for God.

 

Naked doesn’t just mean withoutclothing.

 

It means, for us, to be stripped to ourcore, to be laid bare spiritually and emotionally and materially, which many ofus have known in our lives.

 

We have known what it means to bespiritually and emotionally naked.

 

To be sick, doesn’t necessarily mean tobe sick with a disease in our bodies.

 

It is means to be sick in our heartsand in our relationships with others.

 

It means to be sick with despair ordepression or anxiety or spiritually barrenness.

 

And we all know that the prisons of ourlives sometimes don’t necessarily have walls or bars on the doors.

 

The prisons of our lives are sometimesour fears, our prejudices, our anxieties, our addictions, our very selves.

 

To not go out and help those who needhelp is to be arrogant, to be selfish, to be headstrong.

 

To not do so is to turn our backs onfollowing where Jesus leads us.

 

Because Jesus leads us into that placewherein we must love and love fully and give and give freely—of ourselves andof what we have been given.

 

It means to “feed with justice,” as Godtells us in Ezekiel.

 

I like that because that is definitelywhat we have all been striving to do here at St. Stephen’s.

 

We practice our radical hospitality toeveryone who comes to us in any way.

 

And, I think, we accept everyone whocomes to us fully.

 

Here, we not only welcome people, but Ithink we allow people to be the people God created them to be—without judgment,without prejudice, just as the Kingdom no doubt will be.

 

And is. 

 

Again, that brings us back to Jesus’parable.

 

The meaning of this story is this: Ifyou do these things—if you feed the hungry, if you give drink to the thirsty,if you welcome the stranger, if you clothe the naked, if you visit the sick andimprisoned—if you simply respond to one another as loving human beings—if youdo these things without thought of reward, but do them simply because you, as aChristian, are called to do them, the reward is yours.

 

The Reign of God is not only awaitingus in the next world, on the other side of the veil.

 

The Reign of God, when we do thesethings, is here.

 

Right now.

 

Right in our midst.

 

As Christians, we shouldn’t have tothink about doing any of thosethings.

 

They should be like second nature tous.

 

We should be doing them naturally,instinctively.

 

For those of us who are hungry orthirsty, who feel like strangers, who are naked, sick and imprisoned—and attimes, we have been in those situations—we find Christ in those rays of hopethat break through into our lives.

 

It is very similar to the hope we areclinging to in this moment as we enter Advent—that time in which the Light isseen breaking into the encroaching darkness of our existence.

 

And we—in those moments when we feedthe hungry, when we give drink to the thirsty, when we welcome the stranger,when we clothe the naked, when we visit the sick and imprisoned—in thosemoments, we become that light in the darkness, that hope in someone else’slife.

 

We embody Christ and Christ’s Reignwhen we become the conduits of hope.

 

So, as we celebrate the end of thisliturgical year and set our expectant eyes on the season of Advent, let us notjust be filled with hope.

 

Let us be a true reflection of Christ’shope to this world.

 

Let us be the living embodiment of thathope to those who need hope.

 

And in doing so, we too will hear thosewords of assurance to us:

 

“Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdomprepared for….”

 

I am going to close today with theprayer they pray at All Saints, Pasadena on this Christ the King Sunday.

 

It’s a beautiful prayer.

 

So, let us pray,

 

Most Gracious God, who in Jesus of Nazarethshowed us an alternative to the kings, queens and emperors of history, help usto revere and emulate Jesus’ leadership: To love, and to seek justice for allpeople. Help us to recognize the true grandeur and life-changing power based inloving you and all of our neighbors. In Christ Jesus with you and the HolySpirit, may we co-create a world ruled not through domination, but in thatradical and all-powerful compassion and love. Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

25 Pentecost

November 18, 2023

 

Matthew 25.14-30

 

+ As a a priest, and especially as aRector of a congregation, people say things about me.

 

Sometimes those things arecomplimentary.

 

Sometimes they definitely are not.

 

Once, many years ago, at anothercongregation, I heard that a parishioner there told someone else that I wasfull of hubris.

 

That person later became a very dearfriend of mine and has since passed on to the nearer Presence of God.

 

But, at the time I have to say Ioffended by that statement.

 

I will say, there have been much worsethings said about me behind my back (and to my face)  than being accused of hubris.

 

And one of the curses of my life isthat when people say things behind my back, I usually end up hearing about it.

 

Somehow inevitable it always comes backto me.

 

But, the reality is this: as you may ormay not know, the priest is often the catch-all of a congregation.

 

If something doesn’t work well in acongregation, the priest often is the one who gets the blame, whether or notshe or he really is the problem (usually the priest is NOT the problem).

 

If people want to complain about thingsin a congregation, it is often much easier to complain about a priest.

 

Now, I knew this fact long before Iever went into the priesthood.

 

I tell anyone who is heeding a call toordained ministry that the first thing they need to develop is a very thickskin.

 

Luckily, here at St. Stephen’s, I havenot had that issue much.

 

People here seem pretty content with mefor the most part.

 

And I’m grateful for that.

 

And if there are criticisms, whichtrust me, usually get back to me (they just do), I usually can go with it.

 

But there is one accusation that cutsthrough the thick skin of my “Priest armor.”

 

Actually, maybe I shouldn’t even sharemy personal Kryptonite with you, but, most of you know it anyway…

 

The one accusation I don’t handle wellis actually one that has never been leveled at me here at St. Stephen’s (atleast I haven’t heard it).

 

It’s an ugly word.

 

It even sounds ugly.

 

And it cuts deeply.

 

Words with the letter “z” often seem tohave a razor-edge to them.

 

The word is…

 

lazy.

 

I despise that word.

 

Now, you can say I’m full of  “hubris” all you want.

 

But, I think we can all agree: I am NOTa lazy priest.

 

All this talk of laziness ties in wellwith this strange, difficult parable for this morning.

 

We get this parable of the talents, ofmoney lent and the reward awaiting those who were entrusted with the money,complete with its not-so-subtle wag of the finger at us.

 

Trust me, I did not purposely pick thisscripture for this Stewardship Season; it just happened to come up in thelectionary today.

 

But, man, is this parable is a verygood story for us today!

 

Most of us can relate to it.

 

We understand how good it is to havepeople invest money for us and to receive more in return.

 

But, this parable isn’t really about money at all, as weprobably have guessed, just as Stewardship I just about money either.

 

The parable is about taking what wehave—and in the case of today’s reading Jesus is talking about the Gospel—andworking to expand it and return it back to God with interest.

 

We, as Christians, are called to justthis: we are called to work.

 

We are called to do something with whatwe’ve been given.

 

And the worse thing we can imagine asChristians is being called by that ugly word I mentioned earlier:

 

“lazy.”

 

Lazy.

 

See. The word cuts like a razor.

 

I hate that word!

 

None of us want to hear that worddirected at us, especially regarding our faith.

 

It is that shaming admonition we hearin this parable: “You wicked and lazy slave!”

 

It’s not what we want to hear.

 

Rather, we want to hear:

 

“Well done, good and trustworthyservant; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge ofmany things; enter into the joy of your master.”

 

Over and over again in Scripture, wefind this one truth: God is not really ever concerned with what we have; but God is always concerned withwhat we do with what we have.

 

And we should always remind ourselvesthat it is not always an issue of money that we’re dealing with when we talkabout what we have. 

 

The rewards of this life include manyother things other than money—an issue we sometimes forget about in our westerncapitalist society.

 

The fact is, God is not alwaysconcerned about who we are or what we do.

 

God does not care about our ego.

 

God does not care about your ego!

 

But, God is always concerned with what we do with who we are and what we have.

 

And when we’re lazy, we purposelyforget this fact.

 

When we’re lazy, we think we can justcoast.

 

We think we can just “get by.”

 

We think we can just give lip serviceto our gratitude and that is enough.

 

We expect others to do the hard workwhile we sit back.

 

But it isn’t enough.

 

To be "good and trustworthy”  is to take what we have and do somethingmeaningful with it.

 

By doing something good, we are showingour gratitude for it.

 

In this week leading up toThanksgiving, we might find ourselves thinking about all the things in ourlives we are thankful for.

 

And we should be expressing our thanks to God for those things.

 

And I hope St. Stephen’s is one ofthose things for which we are thankful.

 

And lest we forget, we are also nowwell into the short but very meaningful time of Stewardship season.

 

It is a time in which we look hard atourselves and ask ourselves the important questions of what St. Stephen’s meansto us, and how we contribute of ourselves and our resources to St. Stephen’s.

 

For some churches, stewardship time isa difficult time.

 

It is a time of uncertainty.

 

It is a time when people kind of groanand inwardly complain.

 

“The priest is going to talk aboutmoney!”

 

But for us at St. Stephen’s, it’s neverreally like that.

 

For us, here, people LIKE to be membershere.

 

And people here LIKE to help ourcongregation out.

 

People here like to step up to theplate.

 

Why?

 

Because people can see what we do.

 

People can see that although we are nota mega-church, we are not a giant church, we do make a big difference.

 

We are a place where we don’t just“talk the talk,” we very much “walk the walk.”

 

We don’t just pay lip service to ourcommitment to making a difference in this world.

 

We actually work hard to make adifference.

 

Let me tell you, no one can call St.Stephen’s a lazy congregation.

 

We are not some idle parish.

 

We do things.

 

We are kept active.

 

It is never boring here.

 

And we should be thankful for all ofthat.

 

But being thankful for this active,vital parish that we are is more than just the priets standing up at the pulpitand saying it.

 

What God seems to want from us morethan anything else is to let that thankfulness be lived out in our lives.

 

Yes, we should give thanks to God withour mouths.

 

But we must give also thanks to Godwith our actions.

 

We should also give thanks to God withour time and with our talents—with our resources and with our hands and labors.

 

Our thankfulness should not simply bethe words coming from our mouths, but also the actions we do as Christians.

 

As Christians truly thankful to God forall we have been given, we are to live a life of integrity and purpose andmeaning.

 

Integrity.

 

Purpose.

 

Meaning.

 

And standing up again and again to whatis wrong.

 

We show our thankfulness to God in ourstewardship—in the fact that we are thankful by sharing what we have beengiven.

 

By sharing the goodness we have beengiven.

 

And in that sharing, we find the truemeaning of what it means to be gracious.

 

In that sharing, we find purpose andmeaning in our lives.

 

In that sharing, we find true contentment.

 

We all have our treasures in this life.

 

We all have these special things Godhas given us.

 

It might be our talents, it might beour know-how, it might be a blessing of financial abundance.

 

It might just be our very selves.

 

We have a choice with these treasures.

 

We can take them and we can sit onthem.

 

We can store them away and not let themgain interest.

 

And in the end, all we have is amoldering treasure—which really isn’t a treasure at all.

 

Or we can take a chance, we can investthem and, in investing them, we can spread them and share them.

 

During this stewardship season, themessage is not “Give”

 

The message of this stewardship time is“be grateful.”

 

Be grateful to God for the treasures ofthis life. 

 

These are the things we have—ourtalents, our God-given abilities, the material blessings of our lives—and to betruly thankful for those things, we need to be grateful for them and to sharethem.

 

We can’t hoard them, we can’t hug themclose and be afraid they will be taken from us.

 

And we can’t go through life with acomplacent attitude—expecting that others are going to take of these things forus.

 

We must share what we have.

 

And we must share what we have withdignity and self-assurance and with a graceful and grateful attitude.

 

We must be gracious

 

We must not be the lazy slave whohoards what is given him, afraid to invest what he has.

 

We must instead be like the wiseservant, the one is alert and prepared, the one who is truly gracious.

 

That is what Stewardship is reallyabout.

 

It is about giving of ourselves, evenwhen the times are tough.

 

And it is about making sure that we atSt. Stephen’s can continue to do that and be that place in the future.

 

So, let us be the wise servants thisStewardship season.

 

Let us continue to step up to the plateand do what we must do.

 

Let us make sure that we as acongregation can continue to be a place of safety, of integrity, of holinessand love, when times are good and when times are bad.

 

Let us give thanks to God for all thatSt. Stephen’s does and is and continues to be.

 

And let us make sure that we cancontinue to be this radical place we are, this unique and eclectic and HolySpirit-filled place we are.

 

And let us all do what we are called todo in our service of God and one another.

 

And if we are, we too will hear thosewords spoken to us—those words we all truly long to hear—“Well done, good andfaithful one…enter into the joy of your master.”

 

Let us pray.

Abundant God, you provided us always with just what we need;we ask you during this Stewardship time to continue to provide thiscongregation of St. Stephen’s with the resources we need, with the time and talentneeded, to do the work you have called us to do, to be a place of love andacceptance to those who need shelter, to embody those principals in this oftendark and uncertain world, and to make a difference among those who need us; weask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.  

 

All Saints Sunday

 

November 6, 2023

 

1 John 3.1-3; Matthew 5.1-12

 

 

+ In caseyou might have noticed it, today is a very, very special Sunday.

 

AllSundays, of course, are special.

 

But todayis even a bit more special, if you haven’t noticed.

 

Out inthe Narthex, we do have the All Saints altar.

 

We havethe Book of Remembrance, with the names written in it of all our departed lovedones.

 

Last Wednesdaywe had a very full All Souls Annual Requiem Mass at which we remembered thenames of our departed loved and processed out to the memorial garden wherecandles burned on the graves of the 21 people whose ashes buried there.

 

Wednesdaynight’s Mass, I have to say, was moving on so many levels.

 

Especiallyfor those of us who read those names aloud.

 

For us,we just randomly read a column of names, not knowing which ones we will get.

 

But sometimeswe get the names of our own loved ones.

 

And we foundourselves choking up because no matter how long it has been since they’ve beengone, we realize how real what we are doing when we commemorate those peoplereally is.

 

Today,here in the Nave, we have the paraments on the altar, and of course I’mall decked out in as well (as you can see).

 

The firstclass relics of the saints have been brought out from where they usually lieinside our altar.

 

A firstclass relic, by the ways, means that it is an actual part of the saints—in thiscase we have actual pieces of bone from St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, St. JohnNeumann (not the Anglican priest who became a Roman Catholic cardinal, but ratherthe Bohemian Bishop of Philadelphia), and St. Francis Cabrini, better known asMother Cabrini. Inside the altar are still the relics of our unknown saint,whom we just affectionately call, St. Incognito.

 

And weare celebrating even a bit more than we usually do.

 

In just afew moments, we’ll renew our Baptismal vows.

 

You’llget sprinkled with water.

 

We’lltake joy in our baptism.

And inall the company of the saints.

 

See, it’sa Sunday to celebrate.

 

Which, asyou all know, I LOVE to do.

 

I love tocelebrate.

 

I willlook for any little opportunity to celebrate.

 

And,today we have plenty to celebrate.

 

First, weare celebrating the saints.

 

We arecelebrating all those saints that we know of, like the Blessed Virgin Mary andour own St. Stephen.

 

We arecelebrating the saints we have remembered in our beautiful windows. 

 

Wecelebrate the saints whose relics rest inside our altar and which are exposedtoday for veneration.

 

Wecelebrate those saints because they are held up to us as examples of how tolive this sometimes difficult life we live as Christians.

 

And, asthose saints would no doubt tell us,  itis hard to be a Christian sometimes.

 

It ishard, as we all know, to follow Jesus, and to do what Jesus tells us to do—tolove God and love others.

 

It ishard to be, as John says in our epistle for today, the children of God, asJesus himself is the divine Child of God.

 

Thesaints have shown this fact to us.

 

They haveshown us how to be these very children of God.

 

Wecelebrate that today.

 

Wecelebrate, by our baptismal vows, that we are loved children of a loving andaccepting God.

 

We arealso celebrating the saints we have personally known.

 

We arecelebrating the saints we have known who have come into our own lives—thosepeople who have taught us about God and shown us that love does win out, againand again.

 

Thesaints in our own lives are those who have done it, who have shown us that we
can be successful in following Jesus, even if they weren’t always successful attimes in their own lives.

 

But,before we go any further, we do need to ask ourselves: what is a saint?

 

Well, afew years ago I came across this great story.

 

It isabout the great Dorothy Day, who is also being considered for canonization inthe Roman Catholic Church.

 

Thisstory is one we can relate to here.

During the 1970s, in those days after Vatican II and the liturgicalreform that Churches like the Catholic Church and the Episcopal Church weregoing though, some priests were becoming rather casual with the liturgy. Oneafternoon, a priest came into the soup kitchen in which Dorothy Day wasworking. He wanted to offer a Mass for the homeless. He went into the kitchenand grabbed a coffee mug to use for the chalice.

Dorothy, although frustrated at the irreverent use of houseware forthe liturgy, prayed throughout the mass with the priest. After the liturgyended, she quietly got up and started to cleanse the vessels. Then, she walkedoutside with the mug and a shovel.

A man followed her and asked her what she was doing. It is said shekissed the mug and then buried it. She told him that it was no longer a mug,but a chalice. It was no longer suited for coffee- it had held the Blood ofChrist. She didn’t want anyone to mistake it for a mug again. Once somethingholds the Body of Christ, it is no longer what it was. When the mug held theBlood of Christ, it changed its vocation forever. It could no longer holdanything less than Christ again.

The story goes on to say this:

“We are common mugs. Simple, functional, practical, and goodpeople. We have a capacity to hold good things. But when Christ entered ourlives, we became more. We became Chalices. We started to hold Christ—who isfully divine--within our hearts. Now that we have held the Body of Christwithin our bodies, we are no longer common, but rather extraordinary.”

That iswhat a saint is.

 

 A saint is a common mug that has holds withinit the very Presence of God, and by doing so is transformed into somethingdifferent and wonderful—a chalice.

 

That iswhy we celebrate the saints.

 

That iswhat we celebrate today.

 

And whenwe start pondering who a saint is, we then can start looking at ourselves.

 

We canfind the saints are not only in church, in stained glass, or on ikons, or theirrelics we put out.

 

No,rather we find saints looking back at us from our very mirrors.

 

We are the future saints.

 

Wecelebrate ourselves today—we, the future saints gathered here to worship God,to hold within us the very Presence of God.

 

Together,we strive to follow Jesus, to love God and each other and to serve those weencounter.

 

That iswhat it means to be future saints.

 

Often, aswe have known, saints are hidden from us.

 

Saintsoften are the ones we least expect to be saints.

 

But wehave all known saints in our lives.

 

Thismorning, on this All Saints Sunday, and on a fairly regular basis, I thinkabout the saints who have worshipped with us here at St. Stephen’s.

 

Today, weare reminded that they are still with us.

 

Ioccasionally look out and I can see still them with us at times.

 

I canstill see Harriet Blow’s wheelchair.

 

I can seeBetty Spur in that back pew.

 

I canstill see Greg Craychee as an acolyte up front.

 

I canstill see Angel Brekke and Betty De La Garza and her mother Georgia Patneaude, andJim Coffey and Jonathan Gilbert and Tom and Ruth Stickney and Marlys Lundberg,  here with us, smiles on their faces.

 

And manyof you might not know who those people are because you have become members heresince they passed.

 

For thosewho might not know who these people were, it’s just a reminder that ordinarypeople worshipped in these pews and in this building over the years and are nowgone, but are still, in some amazing holy way, with us.

 

I haveshared with you many times that despite all the loss of several close people tome in my life over the last decade, the times when I often feel them closest iswhen I am standing at this altar, right after I break the Bread and am lookingdown into that chalice of Christ’s Blood.

WhenJesus says in our Gospel reading for today that “blessed are those who mourn,for they shall be comforted,” we can be assured of that comfort in whatever wayit comes to us.

 

It isthen the veil between this world and the next is lifted for one moment.

 

This iswhy we celebrate the saints.

 

That iswhy we celebrate the saints with the different commemorations we have of themat our Wednesday night Masses throughout the year.

 

That iswhy they are in our windows.

 

That iswhy their bones are in our altar.

 

And thatis why we celebrate them especially on Sundays like today.

 

Wecelebrate the saints because they lead the way for us.

 

They showus how to live this sometimes difficult life as Christians.

 

They showus in their successes and they show us in their failures.

 

Theyremind that we are all chalices, holding within our common, sometimes worn-outand broken bodies, the very Presence of God in our midst.

 

And wecelebrate the saints as well because we too are the saints.

 

We arethe future saints, who will one day be gathered around the altar of the Lamb,where we will partake of that glory without end.

 

I just mentionedthat “veil” that separates us from those who have gone on before us.

 

I mentionedthat that veil is actually a very thin one, even though it often seems like avery thick curtain. 

 

But thereare moments, like the Holy Eucharist,  when that veil is sort of lifted and we cansee that very little actually separates us from those saints who have gone onbefore us who now dwell in the nearer Presence of God.

 

Thismorning, we are actually able to see that veil lifted.

 

Ofcourse, we see it lifted every time when we gather at the altar to celebratethe Eucharist, and God draws close to us.

 

At theEucharist, those saints who are now worshipping God in heaven and those who areworship God here on earth—we are, in that one holy moment, together.

 

Thedistance between us, in that moment, is brought close.

 

And wecatch a clear glimpse of what awaits.

 

This isnot some isolated act we do, here in St. Stephen’s Church in north Fargo onthis morning in November of 2023.

 

Everytime we celebrate the Eucharist, we do it with every Christian on this earthwho also celebrates it.

 

And whenwe celebrate the Eucharist, all we are doing is joining, for this limited time,the worship that is going on in heaven for all eternity.

 

We arereminded this morning that our true vocation as Christians is to be chalices,to carry within us the very Presence of Christ.

 

Ourinheritance is to be children of our loving God.

 

We areall called to be saints.

 

It is awonderful vocation we are called to.

 

So, letus—the future saints of God—truly celebrate today.

 

Let uscelebrate the saints who have gone on and who are still with us in variousways.

 

Let uscelebrate the saints who are here with us, right now, on this joyful morning.

 

And letus celebrate ourselves, as we look into our future with God with delight andtrue joy.

 

Let us pray.

 

God of all ages, you are truly gloriousin your saints; fill us with the Presence of your Christ, so that we, merehouseware that we are, may be chalices of your Presence to those around us whoneed your Presence; we ask this in the name of Jesus our Lord. Amen.

 

 

22 Pentecost

 

October 29, 2023

 

Leviticus 19.1-2, 15-18; Matthew 22.34-46

 

+ I was originally planning on having Deacon John preach thismorning.

 

As some of you know, I haven’t been feeling well recently.

 

And Deacon John has been biting at the bit to preach here.

 

So, I was thinking, I’ll let him preach this Sunday, because nextSunday is, of course, All Saints Sunday, and I LOVE to preach on that day.

 

Then I remembered what our Gospel reading is for today.

 

And I said to myself, nope.

 

I have to preach on this one.

 

Because, as you all know, this, for me, is what it is all about.

 

This scripture is it for me.

 

But I’ll get into all of that in just a moment.

 

First, as you may remember, last week, in my sermon, I preachedabout the Shema.

 

The Shema is a profession of faith from the Deuteronomy 6.5-9 thatgoes like this:

 

Hear OIsrael, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One. You shalllove the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with allyour might. 

The Shema is the prayer all Jewish men are required to pray twiceeach day, once in the morning and once at night.

 

Although I’m of course not Jewish, I also do that.

 

I also pray the Shema each morning upon waking up and each nightbefore bed.

 

It’s a good spiritual practice.

 

But it’s more than that.

 

It’s the heart of what we believe as followers of Jesus andbelievers in the God of Jesus.

 

For me, as you all know, as you have heard me preach over and overagain from this pulpit over the many years I’ve been with you here, this iswhat it’s all about.

 

This Gospel reading isn’t just a summary of the Law.

 

It is a summary of Christianity itself.

 

This is what we must do as Christians.

 

Plain.

 

And seemingly simply (but maybe not so simple).

 

Now, I once was scolded a bit—this was at another congregation,mind you—for preaching too much about love.

 

“You always preach about love,” this parishioner told me.

 

This parishioner is now dwelling the nearer Presence of God, andso is, ironically, literally surrounded, in this moment, by the overwhelming divinelove and is no doubt saying what most people end up saying, “Yup, Jamie wasright.”

 

But she also was right.

 

I ALWAYS preach about love.

 

I sure do.

 

And if it was meant as a criticism, I do not take it that way.

 

I wear it proudly as a badge of honor.

 

Because the fact remains that this is essentially all Jesuspreached about as well.

 

And it it’s good enough for him, it’s sure good enough for me.

 

The gist of everything Jesus said or did was based solidly on whatwe hear him summarize in this morning’s Gospel.

 

In fact,

 

Every sermon and parable he preached, was based on what we heardtoday.

 

Every miracle, and even that final act on the cross, was basedsolidly on what we heard this morning.

 

In today’s Gospel Jesus is clear.

 

Which commandment is the greatest? he is asked.

 

And he replied: “You shall love the Lord your God with all yourheart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatestand first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighboras yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”

 

He can’t get any clearer, as far as I’m concerned.

 

And it is these two commandments, both of which are solidly andunashamedly based in love, that he again and again professes.

 

Every day of his adult life, Jesus prayed this prayer.

 

 It was the basis of hisentire spiritual life.

 

And this commandment, along with the commandment to love others,is the basis for his entire teaching.

 

When he says, “On these two commandments hang all the law and theprophets,” we can also add the Gospel.

 

The Gospel, along with the Law and the prophets, is based on thesecommandments.

 

And so is our entire faith as Christians.

 

I don’t think I can get any clearer on this.

 

I hear so often from Christians—not a whole lot of Episcopalians,but other Christians—that their faith as a Christian is based solely onaccepting Jesus Christ as their “personal” Lord and Savior.

 

I actually have no problem with that, for the most part, inactuality.

 

I don’t think making Jesus a personal savior to any one of us isgood theology, mind you.

 

And nowhere in scripture is there any reference that acceptingJesus as a personal savior that only way to salvation.

 

But having a personal relationship with Jesus, who is our Savior,is a good thing.

 

Our Baptismal promises in the Book of Common Prayer are based onaccepting Jesus as our Savior as well.

 

In the Baptismal promises we are asked that all-importantquestion:

 

“Do you turn to Jesus Christ and accept him as your Savior?”

 

And, of course, we do.

 

But, for Jesus, the real heart of the matter is not in such a professionsof faith.

 

He never commands us to make such statements for salvation.

 

What he does command us to do again and again, to love.

 

To love God.

 

And to love one another.

 

And, as you’ve heard me say, Sunday after Sunday from this pulpit,when we fail to love, we fail to be Christians.

 

Any time we fail in these two commandments, we fail to beChristians.

 

We turn away from following Jesus and we turn away from all thatit means to be a Christian. I think the organized Church sometimes misses thisfact.

 

And we, as Christians, sometimes miss this fact as well.

 

We sometimes think: maybe this is too simple.

 

Love God, love others.

 

It’s just too simple.

 

Well, first of all: it is not.

 

It is not easy to love God.

 

It is not easy to love Someone who is, for the most part,invisible to us.

 

And, as we struggle with all the time in our lives, it is not easyto love others.

 

I don’t need to tell anyone here this morning that is sometimesvery hard to love others.

 

So, it is not too simple.

 

But we still want something more occasionally.

 

We sometimes fall into the trap of depending on things like dogma,or the Law, or Canons (or Church Laws), or liturgical rubrics, or gurus, or anyof the other rules that define it all for us specifically.

 

Certainly, when we start doing so, we enter dangerous territory. 

 

The fact is, all of those things—confessional statements, dogmas,church laws, rubrics, or any of those complicated rules—are pointless if theyare not based on these two laws of loving God and loving others.

 

If anyone wants to know what Christians believe and who we are,these two Laws are it.

 

They define us.

 

They guide and direct us.

 

And when we fail to do them, let me tell you, they convict us andthey judge us.

 

So, yes, I know I am guilty of preaching the same thing all thetime.

 

But I do unashamedly.

 

I do so proudly.

 

I do so without any sense of remorse.

 

This former Lutheran, on this Reformation Sunday, echoes MartinLuther today:

 

Here I stand.

 

Because all I am doing when I preach about loving God and lovingothers, is what Jesus did.

 

I am following Jesus when I preach those laws.

 

But more importantly than preaching about them, I hope we can allstrive to live those laws in our lives,

 

I try to in my own life as Christian and as a priest.

 

I try to help others to do that as well.

 

So, let us love unashamedly.

 

Let us love without limit.

 

Let us love radically.

 

As our reading from Leviticus tells us, “let us be holy” becauseour God is holy.

 

Let the love that guides us and directs and, yes judges us andconvicts us, be the one motivating factor in our lives.

 

Let it be the foundation and basis of each ministry we are calledto do.

 

Let love—that radical, all-encompassing, all-accepting love—bewhat drives us.

 

And let us—each of us—be known to everyone by our love.

 

Let us pray.

Holy God, help us in our following of your Son Jesus that we memight embody and fully live out the Law of loving you fully and loving otherswith a true, all-encompassing, all-accepting love. We ask this in his name.Amen.

 

 

 

21 Pentecost

 

October 22, 2023

 

Matthew 22.15-22

 

+ Last week, in our Gospel reading, Iwas blunt—and honest—with you.

 

I told you then that I did not like theparable we were told by Jesus.

 

It was a difficult story that, bytoday’s standards, would’ve been torn to pieces by critics.

 

But if we’re patient in our faithfullistening to these Gospels, we can almost be assured that for every one storywe might not like—like last week’s story—there will be one that we really get.

 

Today, is one of those Gospel readings.

 

I like this Gospel reading.

 

In it we find Jesus being confronted bythe Herodians and the Pharisees, both of whom are enemies of each other, butfor this brief moment, they are ganging up on Jesus.

 

I love it when Jesus and the Phariseesgo head-to-head.

 

Actually, I feel kind of sorry for thePharisees.

 

They think they’re really smart andclever, but they’re really not.

 

They begin their argument with acompliment of course.

 

Yes, that’s the way to begin.

 

They know: a compliment will trulythrow off the person you are about to trap.

 

But Jesus is too smart for them ofcourse.

 

He turns their question back on them.Jesus asks about the coin.

 

He asks about a coin he, if you notice,does not carry.

 

Nor does he ever touch it.

 

As we know, Roman coins were rituallyunclean in the Jewish culture.

The emperor Caesar was viewed as a god,and that made them unclean to good, pious Jews.

 

Using the coin as his reference, helets them have it.

 

Give to God’s what is God’s, he says.

 

Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s.

 

It seems he is making a cleardistinction between the religious and the secular to some extent.

 

He seems to be making that distinctionbetween God and government.

 

But…not really.

 

The real point he is making here can befound when we put it all in perspective.

 

Jesus and every good, loyal Jewish malethere on that day—including the Pharisees— was required to pray a prayer everyday.

 

Jesus no doubt prayed that prayer thatmorning, as did every devout Jewish male (and no doubt many Jewish females)that day.

 

The prayer is a simple prayer.

 

It’s called the Shema

 

“Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God isone Lord; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and withall your soul, and with all your might.”

 

The Shema is, of course, the summary ofthe Law.

 

It is a summary of all belief for aJew. It essentially renders to God, what is God’s.

 

But if you listen closely to what theShema says, you realize: Jesus’ statement really isn’t an either/or statement.

 

He’s simply saying that once what isGod’s is rendered to God, there is nothing else.

 

There are no other options for those ofus who belong to God.

 

For those who love God with all theirheart, all their soul and all their might, there is nothing else.

 

Rendering anything to Caesar’s issimply not an option.

 

For us, it is a matter of realizing wedon’t have the option of turning our Christianity on and off.

 

We are always followers of Jesus, weare always children of a loving God, in everything we do.

 

Everything we do and say begins andends in following Jesus.

 

We don’t have the option of being aChristian when it suits us and being secular when it doesn’t.

 

We are a follower of Jesus all thetime—in everything we do and every aspect of our lives.

 

And it is important to remind ourselvesof this.

 

So what does it mean to live a life inwhich we give to God what is God’s?

 

It meant to do what we do best asChristians.

 

It means to love fully.

 

It means loving God fully.

 

It means loving others fully.

 

It means loving ourselves fully.

 

It means living that love out in ourlives.

 

For this love that we have receivedfrom God is God’s love.

 

And we must render that love to God andto others.

 

I know.

 

It sounds so simple.

 

It sounds so basic.

 

We wonder why we ever thought it washard or why others thought it was hard.

 

But it is a lot harder than it sounds.

 

Rendering the things that are God’s toGod is not easy.

 

It is much, much easier to render thethings to Caesar that are Caesar’s.

 

It is easy to let the establishmentstay established.

 

It is easy to be chameleons to someextent, to change ourselves to suit whatever situation may arise so that we canquietly fade into the background, or so we can hold on, for a moment, to thecontrol we have worked to maintain.

 

It is easy to be a Christian on Sundaysand to be a “regular” person the rest of the week.

 

It is easy to say we’re Christians, butit’s not always east being a Christian.

 

But for us, who follow Jesus, beinganything other than a follower of Jesus is a sell-out.

 

It truly is a turning away from Jesusand all he stands for.

 

It is, essentially, a way in which weturn our Christianity on and off like a switch to suit our own personal needs.

 

It is hard to be a Christian in everyaspect of our lives.

 

It hard to love God in all things.

 

It is hard to love our neighbors in allthings.

 

It is hard, very often to love evenourselves in all things.

 

But that is what it means to render toGod the things that are God’s.

 

It means giving to God all that isGod’s.

 

And we belong to God.

 

We are the conduits of that all-loving,all-accepting God.

 

We are the bearers of that radical,all-powerful love of God.

 

So let us truly render to God what isGod’s.

 

Let us live out our lives in the lovewe have received from God.  

 

Let us live fully in this holy and all-consuminglove, sharing what we are nourished on here with everyone.

 

And with God’s love within us, let usbe that radical Presence of love and acceptance to all those we encounter.

 

Let us pray.

Holy and loving God, help us in what werender to you, that it will be fruitful and will further the Kingdom you haveestablished here among us; we ask this in the name of Jesus your Son. Amen.

 

 

20 Pentecost

 October 15, 2023

Isaiah 25.1-9; Matthew 22.1-14

+ I believeI’ve shared this with you before, but in case you haven’t heard it, I’ll tellit again.

 

When I was finishing up my Master ofFine Arts some twenty+ years ago, I did my critical thesis on my view thatthere were two types of writers.

 

There were those writers who were onthe inside looking out.

 

And there were those who were on theoutside looking in.

 

If you think about it, it’s actuallyquite true.

 

Think about your favorite writer orpoet or playwright or novelist or filmmaker or theologian.

 

Think of about their perspective onlife or the world.

 

And you can guess about where yourfavorite poet-priest is on that spectrum (it’s not hard to guess)

 

If you examine them closely you willsee that they are either on the inside looking out, or on the outside lookingin.

 

And since the writer’s perspective isall-important to literature, these perspectives are vital.

 

Essentially then there are the “insiders”and the “outsiders.”

 

It was fun for me to explore these twoperspectives in literature for that thesis.

 

But, later, as a priest, I havediscovered that these perspectives—literature itself—truly does reflectreality.

 

As you look at your own life, you nodoubt think you have a pretty clear understanding of where you stand on thatspectrum.

 

You probably think either that you arethe outsider or the insider.

 

But, I always caution people on this.

 

Don’t be quick to claim one or theother, because this perspective might change in your life.

 

Circumstances might often put you inthe opposite perspective.

 

Or sometimes, your own choices put youin that perspective

 

I’ve seen it happen again and again.

 

And I see it very clearly in our Gospel readingfor today—a reading that caused a great amount of personal struggle this pastweek.

 

And “struggle” is definitely the right word forthis reading.

It’s a weird story, to say theleast.

It’s just such a pointless storyisn’t it?

I know, I shouldn’t be sayingthat about a parable.

But, to be honest, I just don’tlike it.

The structure is so off.

There’s almost nothing, at facevalue, worth redeeming.

I just don’t like the story.

But…let’s not throw it out yet.

Let’s not completely abandon thisstory just because we find it unpleasant.

If we did that every time we readthe scriptures…well…I’ll just leave it there.

First of all, it definitely seemsthat Matthew has an agenda in this story.

Obviously Matthew is directingthis to his fellow Jewish believers.  

And when we see it from thatperspective, it kind of starts making a bit of sense.

So, let’s reframe the story abit:

The first guests, as we discover,are Israel.

The first slaves represent theprophets, who were also beaten up and killed for trying to tell them what Godwanted.

The second slaves are theapostles.

And, if you notice, the secondgroup of people are very different than the first group.

That’s because they’re theChurch.

At this point, “everyone” hasbeen invited.

“Everyone” is a very importantclue to this story.

“Everyone” means everyone.

So, what Matthew is trying tohave Jesus tell us is that Israel ignored God’s message, and as a result, theKingdom was given to others.

Last week, I preached about howsobering that thought is—the fact that the Kingdom of God can be given toothers.

So, we have these slaves goingout and inviting.

The apostles were called by Jesusto do just that.

They were called to invite everyone—not just the elite.

Not just the best guests.

Not the fancy wedding guests.

Everyone.

To echo my original thought: forJesus, everyone is invited to be an “insider” in the Kingdom of God.

You don’t have be on the outsidelooking in to this Kingdom.

That’s great. That’s wonderful.

But, what happens next in thestory is the real pivot here.

The second coming happens.

This is the “final judgment.”

The King arrives!

Now, that sounds great.

We’re all looking forward to the Second Coming.

We’re all looking forward to the King—Jesus—arriving.

But wait….

It’s not all pleasant and beautiful.

Why?

Because someone gets thrown out.

This poor guy who isn’t wearing a wedding robegets thrown out.

What?

Wait!

Didn’t Father Jamie just say that Jesus inviteseveryone to be an “insider” in the Kingdom?

So, what’s this now?

If everyone gets invited, who cares if someone iswearing a robe or not?

Now it sounds terrible to us.

But, but, but…

Let’s keep it in the context of its time.

At that time, not wearing the wedding robe thatwas provided to the guests was an insult.

It was essentially a way of saying that, Yes, I’mhere at the wedding, yes I’m going to eat and drink, but I’m not really goingto participate.

I’m going to get what I need out of this, but onceI do, I’m gone.

I’m not really going to make a commitment to thisfeast.

I’m going to be a bad guest.

And this is the real gist of this story.

Now, we’ve all known bad guests.

We’ve seen them at weddings.

We’ve had them at parties.

We’ve seen them here in church.

They’re people who come and take and take andtake, and expect the host (or hosts) to do everything for them, but then don’tparticipate.

They stand off to the side, and complain, andbackbite and fold their arms when something doesn’t go THEIR way.

They nitpick and complain over and over againabout every little detail.

They refuse the wedding garment—they refuse thegifts that have been given to them.

Now, the good thing about this is that, it’s allabout choice.

We all have a choice.

We choose to go to “the wedding.”

We choose to be a good guest or a bad guest.

God did not make us into mindless robots.

But there are ramifications to what we choose.

The fact is, by not wearing the robe, we’re notreally present.

We’re saying “no” to the King.

For us, it’s kind of the same.

We can be here.

We can sit here in our pews or watch at home.

But we don’t haveto be a part of it all.

We can be obstinate.

We can cross our arms and critique everythingabout the sermon or the liturgy or the music or the way the altar is set up,etc.

We can close our minds and hearts and be bitterand complain.

We can nitpick or backbite or stomp our heelsbecause we don’t like it.

We can “choose” to be the outsider.

We’ve all known those kind of people in thechurch.

You know what, sometimes I am that person inchurch.

I, the priest, am often that way in regard to thelarger Church at times.

Sometimes I am obstinate, and I complain aboutthings.

I’ll confess: I pride myself on being the“outsider.”

After all, I’ve been an outsider for a long time.

And to be brutally honest, I’ve been made anoutsider for a long time.

More often than not, it’s a choice I made.

And there are consequences to that choice.

I can be continue to stand aloof, my arms crossedand frown at everything.

 Or I can bea part of it all.

And not just here, in church on Sunday.

As we know, it’s a lot more than just church onSunday that makes us Christians—that makes us good or bad Christians.

Ultimately, it is about what we do out there.

If we are jerks to people, if we are close-minded,if we judgmental, if we’re sexist and homophobic and mean-spirited, or if wesupport fascists and Nazis,  then we’renot really doing a good job as Christians.

If we refuse to love, we’re refusing the weddingrobe.

The fact is, everyone is invited to the banquet.

I say it again and again.

We’re all invited.

And, here’s the rub:

it really isn’t hard to get in.

At all.

But sometimes it is really hard to be a good guestat the banquet.

Sometimes, we really just don’t want toparticipate.

Sometimes, you know what, I just don’t want to bea part of it.

Sometimes it’s just easier to cross my arms and exileourselves to the corner.

Sometimes it’s just easier to critique andcomplain and find fault.

Sometimes it’s easier to not love and respectothers.

Because, we’ve so often not been loved and notrespected by others.

Sometimes, we’re just used to being on the outsidelooking in.

And sometimes it’s just hard to make thetransition to being an “insider” after being outside for so long.

And that’s our choice to react like that.

But it’s not what is expected of us.

We’ve been invited to the banquet!

We have an easy “in” to the banquet!

We are invited, finally, to be an “insider.”

We should be glad!

We should be excited.

We should don that wedding robe and do whateverelse needs to be done to be a good guest.

Because, here’s the other stark reality of it all:

It’s not fun being the outsider.

I can tell you that by first-hand experience.

It is not fun being all by one’s self on theoutside of the party, looking in at everyone who’s there.

But, that’s sometimes where we put ourselves.

That’s where we often go because that’s all weknow.

Luckily God, who truly does love us, who trulydoes want us at the banquet, never lets us stay out there—outside the party—forlong.

God does not let us stay the “outsider” for verylong.

The invitation from God keeps coming.

“Come in,” God says to us. “Come in from the cold.Come in from the dark. Come in and join my party.”

Because, it IS a party.

And all he have to do accept the invitation.

All we have to do is put on the wedding garment.

That’s all the bad guest had to do to rejoin theparty.

So, let’s do just that.

Let’s put on the wedding robe.

Let us not cast ourselves off into the exterior.

Let us not alienate ourselves with our bitternessand anger.

But let us join the banquet in love.

Let us heed the invitation.

Let us celebrate, and be joyful and be glad.

That’s what our Host wants from us.

And when we do, we can truly echo those words wehear today from Isaiah:

“This is our God, the one for whom we have waited…

Let us be glad and rejoice in our salvation.”

Let us pray.

Holy God, gracious God, as we await anxiously thecoming of your Reign, help us to make welcome all those who seek this Kingdomespecially to those who are on the outside looking in. Only then, when we areall gathered together with you, will we actually be your Kingdom; we pray thisin Jesus’ Name. Amen.