el Día de los Muertos

Almighty God, you have knit together your elect in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son Christ our Lord: Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints in all virtuous and godly living, that we may come to those ineffable joys that you have prepared for those who truly love you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen. 

Around Halloween, in downtown Tucson or west in the barrio neighborhoods across the river, there is a procession and a celebration, the latter of which somewhat reminds me of Burning Man. It does that because part of the ceremony is lighting a large temporary structure but this one is a brazier basket that holds tokens in memory of loved ones deceased. I have not gone that far, therapeutic though it might be. 

What I have done is stood along the parade route, noting people in wild or remarkable costumes, and especially noticing a group marching in memory of people lost in the desert. There were among that group founders of early efforts to reach migrants, including members of Derechos Humanos, Humane Borders, Tucson Samaritans, and No More Deaths, and one of the original Casa Alitas / Casa Mariposa hosts. 

We have a lot to mourn in the desert, on behalf of lost loved ones, even anonymous as many of them remain. This festival, and this presence of witnesses, reminds us that these people who have been lost have had lives to be remembered. We can celebrate them even as we deplore their fate. The desert is harsh and unforgiving. We need not be.

https://www.visittucson.org/events/festivals-and-annual-events/all-souls-procession/

Revelation 7:9-17

Psalm 34:1-10, 22

1 John 3:1-3
Matthew 5:1-12

https://hymnary.org/text/for_all_the_saints_who_from_their_labors

1. For all the saints, who from their labors rest,
who thee by faith before the world confessed,
thy Name, O Jesus, be for ever blessed.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

2. Thou wast their rock, their fortress, and their might:
thou, Lord, their Captain in the well-fought fight;
thou, in the darkness drear, the one true Light.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

3. O may thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold,
fight as the saints who nobly fought of old,
and win, with them, the victor's crown of gold.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

4. O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
yet all are one in thee, for all are thine.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

5. And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
and hearts are brave again, and arms are strong.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

6. The golden evening brightens in the west;
soon, soon to faithful warriors cometh rest;
sweet is the calm of paradise the blest.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

7. But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day;
the saints triumphant rise in bright array;
the King of glory passes on his way.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

8. From earth's wide bounds, from ocean's farthest coast,
through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
singing to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost:
Alleluia, Alleluia!


The Hymnal 1982: according to the use of the Episcopal Church #287

love and do what you will

At the end of his life, after leading his people through the desert, Moses stood alone on the mountain. He had climbed to a high place, and he could see all around. He could see as in a vision the Promised Land laid out before him. (Deuteronomy 34:1-12)

It was like the view the Joad family had, in "The Grapes of Wrath", as they came over Tehachapi Pass and caught sight of the Great Central Valley of California, laid out before them like a garden without walls. It was like that same view for me - coming over that same pass, seeing the first green grass I'd seen after traveling for many months and many miles.

For the people of Israel, the view from the mountain meant coming home at last to a place they had never known. 

Moses had led them to this point; now God let him see the land with his own eyes.

God leads him up a mountain and shows him the view. Behind him, in the past, are the concerns for the freedom of his people, their physical safety - under threat from the overwhelming force of their declared enemies, from their hunger and thirst, from their foolish idol worship.

Moses looks out across the land. He stands there, a leader facing the future - knowing it is out there - yet dragging along the baggage of the past.

As he looks over the fair prospect of the Promised Land, he knows that his work is done – 

but that the work of the people goes on.

He has been their lawgiver, teacher, advocate, and guide. He has been their shepherd in the wilderness. He has seen to their needs. He has brought down to them the law - after speaking with God face to face, without a mediator. He has promised them a future with hope. And he has delivered on that promise. Now it is time for a new leader to step up.

Obedient to the last, Moses accepts a peaceful end as a gift from the Lord, at this last place in the desert. He has reached the round old age of 120 - and his strength is unimpaired. He goes silently to his end, alone with God on the mountain; there is no shrine to visit. His monument is the Torah, his memorial the word of God, and his legacy is the freedom of his people.

The Torah, the Law of Moses, can be summed up in two great commandments. 

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength.” (Deuteronomy 6:5) “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:18b) (see Matthew 22:34-40)

All the commandments in the Torah come to their completion in these two deceptively simple statements. If you love and show the love of God in the world, you have gone beyond the letter to the spirit of the laws.

Augustine, a bishop in North Africa when Rome was falling, had a bit of advice about the two great commandments. He summed up all of our duty to God and each other in one phrase: Love - and do as you please. Love - and do as you please. Sounds pretty good, doesn't it? Love - and do as you please.

Wait a minute. Sounds like a Catch-22 doesn't it? If you love, what will it please you to do? What is the loving thing?

Love - and do as you please.

How do you love? Micah the prophet put it in three phrases: do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God. (Micah 6:8)

The Torah put it in two: Love God - and show that love in love for your neighbor. But where did this love stuff come from? From God: who loved us first.

Joseph Fletcher put it in one: “Love God in the neighbor.” Now that sounds outrageously simplified, but it is a practical application of the doctrine of the Imago Dei, the image of God, for as we learned from Genesis 1:26, we are made in the image of God.

And so – what we do to our neighbor, we do to the very likeness of the source of being. We damage or repair, honor or shame, grieve or comfort, disdain or enjoy, the image of God, when we do it unto others. And we trespass against God, even as we trespass against our neighbor. And we can forgive, just as we are forgiven. 

Not from compulsion but out of love, the love that came first from God, are we to fulfill all the law and the prophets.  True holiness, obedience to God, is a response in love to the call to holiness, to right living, that is expressed in the two great commandments, the summary of the Law:

Love God with all your being; show that love in love for others.

Obedience to God's commandments - bearing the fruit of faith, hope and charity in the lives of believers - is a manifestation of the love of the God who loves you first and best: love God, love your neighbor.

What are we called to this week, as God's people, in our prayers and in our daily actions?

Sounds like a tough challenge. But the answer is really very simple: Love - and do as you please.

May the Love of God, which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and minds, your souls and your selves, at work or at rest, gathered or scattered, obedient, joyous, and alive with the good news of Jesus Christ - and of the God who always loved you first and best. Amen.

"I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy." – Rabindranath Tagore.

JRL+

Deuteronomy 34:1-12, Deuteronomy 6:5, Leviticus 19:18, Matthew 22:34-40. Genesis 1:26. Micah 6:8. 

Joseph Fletcher, Situation Ethics (1966) p. 26.

An edited version of this meditation appeared in the Arizona Daily Star on Sunday 29 October 2023

in the Keeping the Faith feature of the Home + Life section under the heading "Love God through love of others."

Whose image?

One day some of the people who were vexed by Jesus’ ministry came to him with a challenge. They showed him a coin. The idea was to entangle him in an argument about whether or not it was right to pay taxes, as they would go to the occupying authority. Jesus challenged them back: Tell me: whose image is this? And they said, the emperor. So he said, what belongs to the emperor, give to the emperor; and what belongs to God give to God. (see Matthew 22:15-22)

O my.

And we may ask:  whose image is this, on all the people of Earth?

And then we remember:  “God created humanity in his own image…” (Genesis 1:27)

So we give to God what is God’s – ourselves.

And we respect the image of God in one another. 

So we seek to respond reverently, with respect for dignity and with charity for the needs of others, for in doing so we offer thanks – a gift of gratitude – to the Original in whose image they are made: the true living God who created all of us.

God’s glory is revealed among the nations, all the peoples of the earth, in Christ who becomes present to us as we the body of Christ go to work in the world, acting in concert with his works of mercy.

God has chosen us and called us to be his saints – imitators of the Lord and examples to all the believers. Like the people of the pagan past, who turned from false images of God, we turn from our own false idols to serve the living and true God, and our hope is in his son Jesus Christ.

This is what it takes to declare God’s glory among the nations and his wonders among the peoples: to go out and share your faith, not resting on past achievements – or simply maintaining what we have received; not hoarding it like a pile of old coins – but building up the kingdom.

The kingdom of heaven, the reign of God, the promise of peace, begins to come into being, as we ourselves live and work and act as its people.

As citizens of God’s kingdom, we are sanctified – set apart for a holy purpose – as God’s beloved people, who are called to be saints.

We are the salt of the earth. We are the light of the world.

We witness to the truth that through all things Christ’s light can shine, and that in Christ God’s glory is revealed to all.

Be witness, then, by word and deed, by your gifts of gratitude and works of charity, by your everyday labor and extraordinary kindnesses, as witnesses to the truth, and the grace and mercy and peace of God be with you all, that you, who are called to be saints, may be made holy people, made in the image of the living and true God.

As we look about us, we see God’s image in each other. As we look across the world, we see God’s image in complete strangers, far away. And yet they are, like us, God’s beloved children.

We are in the midst of a season of gratitude, of giving, of thanksgiving. We reflect upon the abundance of the grace of God, and the providence of his blessing.

May God who gives grace to us, give us grace to give others; may God who is merciful to us, and kind, bring kindness and generosity into our lives, that we may share the abundant love of Christ with those around us.

May we, seeking to do your will, find it in serving you; in seeking you to serve you; & find you in the face of others, friend and stranger.

May we, serving you in others, find ourselves at home; and find our home in you.

Amen.

JRL+

An edited version of this essay was published as 

"Serve God by serving others", Keeping the Faith, Home + Life, Arizona Daily Star, Sunday, October 8, 2023, page E3.

The ultimate feast

Peasant Wedding, 1568 - Pieter Bruegel the Elder 

What wonderful images of the kingdom of heaven the Scriptures give us.

On this mountain … In the book of the prophet Isaiah (25:6-9) we receive the gift of the vision of the ultimate banquet. There is a table spread before all peoples, as at the end of time. The people gather. God provides a rich abundance of food and drink. The food is rich; the wine is clear and well aged. What is more: the people are free of fear. God has vanquished the ruthless. God destroys death forever. No one need ever again live in fear. And all are welcome at the table of the Lord.

It is a picture of Paradise; it is a picture of the kingdom of heaven; it is a picture of the world in peace.

War will be no more; not simply because hostilities have ceased; this is not a mere truce.

It is a picture of peace that is more than the absence of evident conflict. It is a positive peace, a peace of justice and reconciliation.

There is no war and no fear and no hunger. God reigns and the people rejoice.

We know this prophecy from many funerals; we may also know it from weddings or baptisms or any kind of celebration of the resurrection. It is a vision of life in God, rightly lived, and brought to fulfillment.

The visions of peace and paradise, of God protecting, providing, and guiding, continue in the responsorial psalm. It is psalm 23: The Lord is my shepherd. The Lord is my king, my provider, my protector, my leader and my guide. The Lord is the host at the banquet table. He provides my needs.

God loves me. God gives me peace. The abundant mercy and grace of God overflow like wine from a cup, like cool water over the brim of a spring. His generosity and his goodness will pursue me forever.

That is the feast we are welcomed to. That is the feast we celebrate.

At the Lord’s Table we celebrate together the feast of Thanks Giving – the Eucharist.

It is the feast that everybody is called to. Not just us; everybody. All the people around us, on the highways of our county and the back streets of our towns, are welcome – they are invited – to come in and join us at the Table.

We open our doors.

But the gospel of Matthew (22:1-2, 11-12) gives us pause. It is not open season at the mini-bar. It is not you-can-eat-all night at the sushi place. You need to dress appropriately if you are going to attend the feast. Or better not to come. You need to be ready.

Jesus spoke to the people in parables, saying: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. . . But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless.”

So – how do we prepare for this feast? How do we dress for this banquet?

Put on Christ. Allow ourselves to be made over into the image of the living God, the loving God. As the Apostle Paul advised the Colossians (3:12-25):

Put on the garments that suit God’s chosen and beloved people. Clothe ourselves in:

• compassion,

• kindness,

• humility,

• gentleness,

• patience.

Above all, clothe ourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.

JRL+

The Truth about the Birdbath Saint

Francis of Assisi is noted for his voluntary renunciation of worldly wealth. He turned from a life of privilege and embraced poverty like a bride. In his radical embrace of poverty, Francis was actually making a radical embrace of charity, that is, of love, unselfish, even self-denying, love. 

When he set aside his family’s expectations, including his father’s ambitions for him to join the family cloth-selling business, and when he set aside his social circle’s expectations that he would continue to be the life of the party and the engine of merriment, he set them aside not for a simple selfishness, a self-denial of negative ambition. 

Francis set aside worldly expectations, his own and others, to be transformed by love, and in that love to transform the world around him. 

Francis had all the gear for a successful career: he even had the armor of a crusader. But in the course of his conversion to a higher purpose he gave that very weaponry to a poor knight, a passer-by on his way to the crusade (or to a more local quarrel).

In some ways of course Francis never ceased to be a crusader or the life of the party. But in his conversion, in his embrace of radical charity, he became the host of a different celebration than his old friends, and family, had at the outset expected.

Francis, whom we remember largely for his love of the non-articulate parts of creation, wolves that give up wolving, and birds that flock to his shoulders, was more challenging than that. He invited human predators to end their predations, and human lions to make safe space for lambs.

We remember him this fall at the culmination, or kick-off, of the creation season in many churches. Around us it is harvest-time, or a cooling from a hot summer. It is a time of revival or relief. But it is also a time of remembrance, of the world that was not made for our exploitation, but invites us  for our pleasure in its care and our enjoyment of something beyond our making.

October 4th is Saint Francis of Assisi Day. It is our day to celebrate the goodness of creation, and the goodness of caring for that creation, of loving it with a selfless love, not for negative reasons, but out of gratitude and a radical embrace of love, that is, of charity.

Father John Leech is a priest associate at the Episcopal Church of Saint Matthew in Tucson, and a frequent guest preacher at other churches throughout southern Arizona.