Showing posts with label Coolidge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Coolidge. Show all posts

Sunday, February 22, 2026

kingdom, power, glory ...

Blessed are you, O Lord our God, ruler of the universe, who brings forth bread from the earth. You guide us through the wilderness, to the land of your abundance. You guide us through times of trial, and lead us into the place of peace. You refresh us when we are weak, or lonely, or in despair, and give us strength to bear good news into your world.

May the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts and the deeds of our hands, be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer.


America’s best soldier quit his job four times. He resigned three times from the military: first as a Colonel,  second as an honorary brigadier general of the militia,and third as Commander in chief of the regular army. And fourth…


America’s best soldier made a lot of mistakes: setting up a fort in the middle of a swamp surrounded by hills…


Being defeated and retreating several times…


But when it counted, he stayed the course…


And when victory was one or the job was done or it was simply time to go


He resigned. He went home.


George Washington


Born February 22, 1732


When he was a young colonial officer in the Virginia militia, he was sent into the western wilderness, the wilds of Ohio beyond the Appalachian mountains,  to engage in battle with the French, and I think that he was the one who ‘opened the ball’ – that is, began the first firefight– of what became the French and Indian war, known globally as the seven years war between France and England.


But it became clear to him that colonials were not held in the same respect as British regulars, and so he resigned his commission as Colonel. 


But soon he was called back into service and eventually put in charge of all Virginia troops.  


The time came when his work was done, and he resigned his commission and went home and got married and began the life of a gentleman farmer in Virginia.


Then it became clear to him that America needed to become independent of Great Britain, and so he put his uniform on again and became commander-in-chief of all the continental forces of the nascent United States of America.


When that job was done, and independence was won, he bid his officers farewell at Fraunces Tavern in New-York and reported to Congress in Annapolis and resigned his commission and went home…


To the life once again of a gentleman Virginia farmer.


But the United States in its infancy did not have cohesion; they were a loose confederacy and they needed a form of government that would last, and so he went to Philadelphia to serve his country once again, and presided over a convention which created a constitution. 


Part of that constitution was describing the chief executive: after having described the Congress in the first article, the second article of the new constitution described the president. It was a portrait, actually, of the right person for the job.


Everyone knew who the first person to take that job should be.


But the day came when that job was done.


And he knew that it was important that power be transferred peacefully.


And he resigned.


And went home for the last time to the life of a gentleman Virginia farmer.


***


I’m bringing him up not just because this is his birthday, but because he in his day, as we in ours, struggled with temptations–


Temptations, for glory. for power, and for kingdom–


When he became president, it was a time when there was no such thing as a government without monarchy, and there were people who held out to make him King, but he refused. He refused that temptation for the good of the people, the country and his own soul.


When his men were starving in the snows of Valley Forge, he could’ve capitulated. He could’ve given it up and they could’ve walked into warm Philadelphia as prisoners, and that would’ve been the end of the United States of America.


“Plenty of bread here! Only worship us and you can eat. You have the power to feed your men– just say the word…”


But he resisted that temptation.


And he resisted the temptation of despair, of just giving up and hoping that God will take care of him. He resisted all temptations thrown at him.


Not to him were temptations exactly as the Temptations of Jesus.


And he was no secular Messiah.


He was the man of the hour, the father of his country, someone who had lifelong trained himself for the job and succeeded in it.


But he was not Messiah. He was a vestry member of an Episcopal Church. He was the husband of a wife, the father and grandfather to stepchildren, a soldier, a farmer, and a statesman.


***


In our time we face our own temptations as a people and individually: temptation to grasp for security, the first temptation: Jesus faced was the temptation to seek first for material security, and not for obedience to God and dependence on God.


The second temptation was simply temptation to test whether God really loved him. 


Should’ve been obvious. A call to despair and doubt:


It was a test of his own fear. Do I have faith strong enough?


The third temptation Jesus faced was to subordinate himself, to the will and power of someone not God: it would’ve been so much easier to end the conflict and simply give in and be rewarded… to be a king– like Herod!


Jesus passed all the tests: he passed through the furnace of doubt, temptation, the lure of despair, the lure of ambition.


And then he was ready to serve.


###


What we see from then on, is Jesus’ acts of compassion, words of truth to power, and ability to give from apparently nothing but faith a greater abundance, suzerainty, and self-confidence, than any tempter could provide. Strength in faith. 


Give us this day our daily bread. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done. The power, the kingdom, the glory: all are yours O God. 


Those are the three temptations in reverse. Power, Kingdom. Glory. All of which belong to God. 


And Jesus is content to rest in the same hands that hold those three realities. 


*** 


It goes all the way back to that first temptation. Because he lived not for himself but for us. He did not betray us for a crust of bread. He did not sell us out to rule. He did not need to prove anything, for himself or for us, and in that he showed the strength of faith that he gave us. He did not surrender to temptation. And he kept the faith to the end. 


***


Of course our temptations will be different from Jesus – and George Washington. But the call to faithfulness is the same.


The challenge for us is this: are we ready to be servants of love, not rescuers; challengers of self-seeking ambition, not power-seekers; active in perseverance, not passive victims of doubt? Are we ready to live, not by bread alone, but in hope, and faith, and love, by the sure and certain promise, and presence, and challenge, of the word of God?


Are we ready to be transformed? To be servants of God? Proclaimers of his word?


To trust God, serve him only, and become bread for the world?


Lent is a call to conversion, to taking responsibility for our own growth and development as people of faith: for our own behavior, as individuals, and as a community, for all the emotional, intellectual, moral, religious, social and political, and economic aspects of our lives. That is our challenge, and our calling.


How do we in our world acknowledge that the power, the kingdom, and the glory belong to God? How do we see that kingdom come in our lives? Our world? Our community? Our church? 


How do we reveal our dependence on God for our daily sustenance, thank him, and share it? 


How do we share the gifts of providence, thinly spread or overwhelmingly abundant, that we have received?


How do we acknowledge that all things come from him, and in that knowledge offer our gifts?


God is the source of all blessing.


***


***

God of the desert, as we follow Jesus into the unknown, may we recognize the tempter when he comes; let it be your bread we eat, your world we serve, and you alone we worship. Amen.


(New Zealand Prayer Book, 573)



First Sunday in Lent


He did not betray us for a crust of bread.

--Ladislaus Boros, In Time of Temptation (translated by Simon and Erika Young)

http://edgeofenclosure.org/lent1c.html



This Sunday being "Temptation" Sunday - and the actual anniversary of the birth of our first president - I looked for  a way to tie together seeking kingdom, power, and glory, for oneself, to both.  


The first president had military and legislative experience, commanding Virginia militia in the French and Indian War, the Continental Army, and federal troops during an insurrection (Whiskey Rebellion) and presiding over the Constitutional Convention,  but his first civilian role in public administration I think was as president. I like it that he resigned twice from the militia, once from the army, and then retired from the Presidency after his second term (Farewell Address of September 19, 1796) -- ensuring a peaceful and model succession. As every (public) school child would know. 


https://www.britannica.com/biography/George-Washington



https://ndupress.ndu.edu/Portals/68/Images/jfq/jfq-109/arnold-2.jpg



perfect in weakness

Jesus said, "The first commandment is this: Hear, O Israel:
The Lord your God is the only Lord. Love the Lord your
God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your
mind, and with all your strength. The second is this: Love
your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment
greater than these."    Mark 12:29-31

If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the
truth is not in us. But if we confess our sins, God, who is
faithful and just, will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all
unrighteousness.    1 John 1:8,9

Penitential Order II, Book of Common Prayer (USA, 1979)

Almighty God, whose blessed Son was led by the Spirit to be tempted by Satan: Come quickly to help us who are assaulted by many temptations; and, as you know the weaknesses of each of us, let each one find you mighty to save; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.


Psalm 32 expresses both a sense of sin and the joy of forgiveness of sins confessed. Those who trust in the Lord and are made righteous after repentance rejoice. It is holding on to sin without seeking the mercy of God that would shut us out from the enjoyment of grace. So Lent is an invitation to joy, to release from the darkness of sin and then fulfillment of the promise of life in the sunlight of God's mercy. 

“My grace is sufficient for you, for [my] power is made perfect in weakness.” So I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ, for whenever I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Cor 12.9-10, NRSVue)

“My grace is enough for you, because power is made perfect in weakness.” So I’ll gladly spend my time bragging about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power can rest on me. Therefore, I’m all right with weaknesses, insults, disasters, harassments, and stressful situations for the sake of Christ, because when I’m weak, then I’m strong. (2 Cor 12.9-10, CEB)


Sunday, April 23, 2023

The Unknown Companion


Matham - Maaltijd te Emmaus. Rijksmuseum.



Who do you break bread with?

Who do you invite to stay with you?

Who is the unknown companion?

How will you know him?


I remember: The Falafel Guy at Sather Gate in Berkeley would fill your pita with lettuce, tomato, falafel, and if you asked, baba ganoush, and hummus. Bless him... Years later on pilgrimage to the Holy Land our last stop was to be in Abu Ghosh, a village with two claims to fame. Most recently it held the world record for the world's largest hummus platter, which alas we did not taste; as it is, Lebanon has taken the title away. More traditionally and lastingly, Abu Ghosh is near the site of the disciples' visit to Emmaus.


There is a church there, the Church of the Resurrection, that houses frescoes depicting the story from today's gospel. We learn how the disciples knew Jesus in the breaking of the bread. And in seeing those pictures and hearing the story, and breaking the bread together ourselves, the past becomes present to us. 


The story begins: It was a long time ago – it was earlier today. On the Emmaus road two were walking – and a third came alongside. Who was the third? They did not think to ask. They were preoccupied, overwhelmed, bewildered and baffled, with troubles of their own.


The news, the good news, was hidden in a maelstrom of fear and anxiety – even terror: for it was an act of terror that set their feet on the road, drove them from Jerusalem. Jesus of Nazareth was crucified under Pontius Pilate. And then, on top of that, came the truly incredible news the women were telling: the tomb was empty. He was not there. Angels spoke to them.


When the disciples set out down the road to Emmaus they did not know where they were going. Sure, they knew where the road led – but they did not know what the future held. They were talking with each other about what had happened, trying to sort out what was really going on. What did it mean?


The third approached, and walked along with them. They did not recognize him. But he accompanied them on the way. And at his inquiry they rehearsed for him the events of those days, almost like a creed, beginning with the words and deeds of Jesus, a prophet mighty before God and the people. They spoke of his betrayal and death, the empty tomb, and the angels’ message. But they didn’t get it – they did not know what it meant, what was really going on beneath the surface of what was happening.


O you foolish Emmæans! How slow you are to grasp it – this is what the prophets were talking about – that the Messiah must suffer, must pass through passion and death and resurrection, before he can reach his glory.


As they reached the village the unknown companion made as if to go on. But they stopped him, offering hospitality. They insisted. Stay with us, for evening is at hand, and the day nearly spent.


So he went in—


“But let me tell you, that to approach the stranger

Is to invite the unexpected, release a new force,

Or let the genie out of the bottle.

It is to start a train of events

Beyond your control. So let me continue.”


[“The Cocktail Party” by T. S. Eliot, The Complete Poems and Plays 1909-1950 (Harcourt, Brace & World, 1952) p.306]


For now the stranger took, blessed, broke, shared the bread; and they knew: this is his Body, and we are in his Kingdom, now. And there in that place the guest became the host. He became the host, as he must always do, when we invite him in. 


When we take Jesus in, as guest, as host, we are transformed, we are enlightened.


We are at his Table, fellowshipping with him.


And he himself is the Bread; he is the Life.


As he left them, they were no longer afraid. They turned to each other and said,


Our hearts warmed

as he taught us

on the road, opening

the Word to us

to our understanding.


Word and Table –

in these they knew him –

in these we know him—

as we break the bread

and tell the tale,


of the marvelous events 

of God with us.



They returned immediately to the City and to their company, to tell their friends, to share the news, the good news, that all the world soon should know, that Christ is risen from the dead, Alleluia! That he arose, that he made himself known in the breaking of the bread.


That is not the end of the story. Like manna in the wilderness, like loaves for 5000, like bread for two disciples at Emmaus, but greater, is the gift of himself that the Lord gives us, bringing us life, new life in abundance. For the bread broken that is his body has multiplied across times and places and generations. 


As we, one body, share the one bread, we celebrate that selfsame Lord until he comes again.


And so we ask— how is Christ known among us?


Who do you break bread with? Who is it that you see at the table? Is Jesus there? Jesus, who told us, I will be with you. Jesus, who said, when I was hungry you fed me. Jesus, who said, I am the bread.


Is he there at the table?


Yes— for whenever we bless the bread and break it and share it, whenever we take the cup of wine and share it, we remember his death until he comes. And we know that he is risen— that he is alive and among us— that in this action he becomes known to us.


Do we walk with him on the way? Do we welcome the stranger? Share our table fellowship? With whom do we, now, break the bread? Do we know, in them, friend or stranger, the fellowship of Christ? Do we hear him teaching, are our eyes opened, do we see him, as we study the Scriptures?


There are several useful and specific things that people of faith, connected to traditional religions, have to offer people seeking a new church home, including seekers who are less attached to a faith tradition.


Theological understanding, spiritual practices, reliable mentors and spiritual guides, and faithful communities, are among the gifts we the church have to offer the devout and the seeker, the eager and the bereft, the occasional and ancillary member, and even the “spiritual but not religious.” 


As Herb O’Driscoll points out in his commentary on this gospel, “We live in a time when spirituality is suspicious of structure and form and institution. Yet any spirituality, if it is to last through the vicissitudes of time and history, must take on form”. 

 

What we have to offer as a church is our experience of God, not just in ourselves, but in communities, through the aid of pastors and teachers, through prayer partners and soul friends, through study and service, and in the breaking of bread and in the prayers.


Yet even more than our structures and traditional practices, whose external aspects, memories or associations may act as barriers, we have something to offer to people seeking a way to truth and sane living in an uncertain world, that is much more precious than the institutional containers we have used. 


It is the all-embracing love of God.


When I was back in Tombstone where I once was vicar, I looked for Mongo, who drove the old stagecoach. I didn’t see him. But then after all, when he met me somebody said, “Hey Mongo! He’s from your church.” And he said, “It’s my church - when I go.” “So it’s your church.” “When I go.” 


Someone who knows us as "my church - when I go!" is a member. Someone who returns to bury a family member, or seeks to be married or to be baptized, is a member. 


And someone who knocks on the door when they seek a light may find us to be a lighthouse, and a beacon, and a home.


Open our eyes to your presence,

open our hearts to your love,

that we, openhearted, open-eyed, open-handed,

may share the bread and tell the story,

that you may be present

in the midst of us,

and that we might share

that good news with all those we meet on the way.


Travel with us, Lord, show us the truth;

stay with us, Lord, show us your love;

send us, Lord, forth from this place,

newly strengthened by Word and fellowship

with the knowledge of your love,

and full of news, good news,

to share, in word and deed, with the world.


Elusive God, companion on the way,

you walk behind, beside, beyond:

you catch us unawares.


Break through the clouds of doubt,

the disillusionment and despair,

that obscure our vision,


that

wide-eyed with wonder

open-mouthed with awe

we may find our way

and journey on

as messengers

of your good news.


Amen.  


JRL+


AEaster3, Emmaus, Luke 24:13-35