Showing posts with label 1 Samuel 2:1-10. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1 Samuel 2:1-10. Show all posts

Sunday, November 14, 2021

buildings & grounds

 

Do you see these great buildings?

And now a word from our building committee…

Do you see these great buildings?


Well, guess what…


It’s a heck of a time to bring up such things. This is Stewardship Season, after all. So it’s a good thing it is also Gratitude Season. 


Traditionally this time of year is called, with some derision, the October Ask-a-thon. That is because once a year congregations plan their budgets and how to meet them. And so, modeling on the old sobriety pledge, many congregations ask for a simple commitment, based on faith, that will guide their financial movements during the next year. 


This causes some anxiety. After all, who knows what is going to happen? And who knows, really, if they will be able to meet any promise they make ahead of time?


Piled on top of that are the real worries that gather. Personal tragedies, uncertainties, infirmities. Social and public problems. Extreme weather events that make the inconvenient truth of climate change all too real. It is scary. 


And there is frustration. But we are not the first to face these fears. The people of God have experienced fear before.


Anticipations and predictions of the end of all things are not new. 

For the people huddled around the reassuring, well somewhat reassuring, figure of Jesus, there was personal impoverishment, the oppression of an occupation under the Roman Empire, and the frequent rumors of revolutionary change.


Since their time, there have been times of plague and times of war. Empires rose and fell. Strange new places have become home. And familiar places have been transformed.


Through all these times there has been a thread of hope. We sing the songs of ancient times, brought forward into the present, because they remind us of things that last, that remain true.


We pray. We sing. We celebrate the Eucharist, we baptize the new to faith and welcome the stranger. We tell the story of love.


We can see beyond our anxiety and predictions of destruction to something that lasts. And that is God’s faithfulness.

 

“My heart exults; my strength is exalted in my God;” even, “my mouth derides my enemies”, all these are words of praise and even joy from Hannah which we hear echoed from Mary in the Magnificat when she sings “my soul magnifies the Lord”. 


Hannah says “those were full now scrounge for bread” and Mary says “the rich he sends empty away”--  these are words of joyous praise for that they are certainly words of assurance of God’s faithfulness and vindication.


The letter to the Hebrews assures us that having been forgiven and accepted by God we can approach his throne -- and we can approach life -- with confidence: for he has perfected for all time those who are sanctified. He is faithful and our hope is sure.


And so we pass from gratitude to confidence in knowing that the promise of the one in whom we put our trust is sure: he is faithful and this gives us the attitude, the fortitude, the ---,  to face the new possibilities that come with troubled times. He is faithful: confidence, gratitude, Steadfast hope.


Martin Luther put his finger on something we do well to remember today. We do not give out of fear or obligation, we do not obey in order to be safe: we are saved. That single offering by Christ has once for all made our hopes sure and our faith complete.


We respond to God’s grace with gratitude and in gratitude we respond with our lives, our hearts, all we have to offer; and this is what it means to say all things come from God and of his own I have given him. For he is the source of all being and from him is the satisfaction of our hearts: all we do in gratitude is from the eternal words spoken for all. “You are my beloved child.”


When David dedicated the site of the temple he offered the first fruits of the harvest in thanksgiving. Even of the building materials he brought to the site he said “all this abundance we have provided for a house for your holy name comes from you and is all your own”. In that new confidence in the love of God the gifts, the faith in the Lord, and obedience of a faithful servant, are all offerings given freely and joyfully.


Over and over again we hear in the Hebrew Scriptures, including the Song of Hannah that was our response to the first reading today, of God’s steadfastness. We hear of the grace of God and love of God that last forever. And we hear also of how the people of God have responded with gratitude and love. 


And we hear of how God has vindicated the downfallen, protected the poor, and liberated the oppressed. And the people of God have been the hands of hope that have fashioned the future.


In other words (and council, cover your ears) what really lasts is not our structures, or even our achievements, but the love of God and our love for God and of each other and all of creation.


But don’t shred that pledge card yet!


It still has a purpose.


For the living church that is built is built out of our hearts, our hands, and our response of gratitude for all that God is accomplishing – including in us and through us … and despite us.


Christ’s work in us is not on some ethereal, ideal, unreal plane, but is accomplished here and now, where we can see it.


Indeed, we recall the apostle who said, “I speak to you of what I have seen and heard and held in my arms.”


“We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life—” (1 Jn 1.1)


God’s love is physical – manifest – at work in the world. That this world is made by God and saved by God and charged with the power of God is what Incarnation is all about.


For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. (Jn 3.16)

Therefore we acknowledge that all is gift: every day is a gift, every breath, even all we accomplish, comes as a gift from God and so we pray, along with the ancient servant of God, “…all things come of thee, and of thine own have we given thee.” (1 Ch 29:14b)


That familiar prayer of offering comes from the first book of Chronicles, from the story of how David, at the end of his long and eventful life, came within an inch of his dream, to build a house for God, and indeed laid the foundation for what his son Solomon would accomplish. The building of the first Temple, the magnificent structure and opulent furnishings the Torah describes.


That Temple was destroyed, the people it sheltered scattered and dispersed among the nations surrounding them. Assyria, Babylon, Persia, and forgotten lands beyond, became the new homes of a generation of pilgrims, of refugees that would never see what they had left behind. 


Instead their children and grandchildren who returned found a lot of work to be done, to reclaim what they could of what had been lost, and to build a shallow replica of what had gone before.


Among them also were those who did the more glorious work of reclaiming the spiritual heritage, bringing back with them solid achievements of preserving past teachings and developing new understanding of the living truth of the love of God for humankind.


And the Temple that was eventually built was grand indeed, great indeed, and its builders were put to the work by a king himself called Great, Herod, whose monuments still rear above the inhabitants of Palestine and Israel. His tomb, his retreat at Masada, the Temple remnant we now call the Western Wall. 


When Jesus asked, “Do you see these great buildings?” it was those proud structures he was talking about. 


What was happening, on the surface, was an occupation, an oppression, a time of turmoil, disturbance, and woe. But what was really going on, deep in the hidden purposes of God, was the building of a new Temple, a new house of God, that is his people.


Those are the living stones: the people to whom Jesus preached and ministered and brought salvation. And it is the building up of that living Temple, not made by hands, to which we are called. 


Direct our hearts to you O God:


For you are the source of all being, eternal word and Holy Spirit. Amen.




November 14th 2021

BProper28(33) 


https://www.lectionarypage.net/YearB_RCL/Pentecost/BProp28_RCL.html


Daniel 12:1-3

1 Samuel 2:1-10

Hebrews 10:11-14 (15-18) 19-25

Mark 13:1-8



Monday, March 26, 2012

Annunciation 2012

Back on the feast of Epiphany we remembered the visit of the magi to the Holy Family, and the gifts they bring: Gold for the king, Frankincense for the priest, Myrrh for the sacrifice. There is, I submit, one more gift - for us to offer: Praise for the Living One.

Right in the middle of Lent we encounter a part of the Nativity story, nine months before Christmas Day. Raymond Brown, the Roman Catholic biblical scholar, taught that the gospels actually were written beginning with the passion narrative - proceeding through Holy Week, the Passion, the Resurrection, the Ascension, and then on around to the Birth narratives.

The birth narratives begin with the visit of the angel to Zechariah, announcing the coming birth of John. Then the focus shifts to a younger woman, cousin of Elizabeth. It is Mary. The angel comes to Mary – and hails her as full of grace: she is to bear a son, who is to be the Messiah.

Mary accepts the burden of birth and the destiny of motherhood to the Messiah, Conception to Assumption, somehow knowing that she must not count her child as hers to keep, but must let go of him, dedicate him to the Lord, as Samuel's mother Hannah dedicated him, knowing he will go from her.

Mary, mother of Jesus, takes this task on herself, knowingly, as God's servant, because she knew that he, her child to be, was sent to set the people free: that at last God's promise to redeem Israel would bear fruit in the fullness of time, and that that fulfillment was coming very soon, and was beginning to happen, quickening even now in her.

The Word would indeed ripen in her own womb. She would bear forth upon the world he who would himself bear the pain of the world.

Like Hannah's son Samuel, Jesus the Son of Mary is one consecrated, set apart for service to the Lord, as a thanksgiving offering to the Lord. Samuel is the prophet who brought justice to Israel, and yet he points beyond himself - to Saul, first, then to David, to David's son Solomon, and ultimately to Jesus.

In the birth story of Samuel, Hannah his mother rejoices that God has remembered the forgotten, and will bring relief to the poor. “My heart exults in the Lord; my strength is exalted in my God,” she sings (1 Samuel 2:1-10).

In the birth story of Jesus, Mary his mother rejoices that God remembers the forgotten and brings relief to the poor. (Luke 1:46-55) And in our prayers, even daily, we join in her song, the Magnificat, the Song of Mary, Canticle 15 in the Book of Common Prayer: “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior...”

Saturday, March 10, 2012

A blessed event, announced in the middle of Lent ...

Back on the feast of Epiphany we remembered the visit of the magi to the Holy Family, and the gifts they bring: Gold for the king, Frankincense for the priest, Myrrh for the sacrifice. There is, I submit, one more gift - for us to offer: Praise for the Living One.

Right in the middle of Lent we encounter a part of the Nativity story, nine months before Christmas Day. Raymond Brown, the Roman Catholic biblical scholar, taught that the gospels actually were written beginning with the passion narrative - proceeding through Holy Week, the Passion, the Resurrection, the Ascension, and then on around to the Birth narratives.

The birth narratives begin with the visit of the angel to Zechariah, announcing the coming birth of John. Then the focus shifts to a younger woman, cousin of Elizabeth. It is Mary. The angel comes to Mary – and hails her as full of grace: she is to bear a son, who is to be the Messiah.

Mary accepts the burden of birth and the destiny of motherhood to the Messiah, Conception to Assumption, somehow knowing that she must not count her child as hers to keep, but must let go of him, dedicate him to the Lord, as Samuel's mother Hannah dedicated him, knowing he will go from her.

Mary, mother of Jesus, takes this task on herself, knowingly, as God's servant, because she knew that he, her child to be, was sent to set the people free: that at last God's promise to redeem Israel would bear fruit in the fullness of time, and that that fulfillment was coming very soon, and was beginning to happen, quickening even now in her.

The Word would indeed ripen in her own womb. She would bear forth upon the world he who would himself bear the pain of the world.

Like Hannah's son Samuel, Jesus the Son of Mary is one consecrated, set apart for service to the Lord, as a thanksgiving offering to the Lord. Samuel is the prophet who brought justice to Israel, and yet he points beyond himself - to Saul, first, then to David, to David's son Solomon, and ultimately to Jesus.

In the birth story of Samuel, Hannah his mother rejoices that God has remembered the forgotten, and will bring relief to the poor. “My heart exults in the Lord; my strength is exalted in my God,” she sings (1 Samuel 2:1-10).

In the birth story of Jesus, Mary his mother rejoices that God remembers the forgotten and brings relief to the poor. (Luke 1:46-55) And in our prayers, even daily, we join in her song, the Magnificat, the Song of Mary, Canticle 15 in the Book of Common Prayer: “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior...”

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Anunciation 2012 (March 25)

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Sunday, November 15, 2009

what her heart most longed for

The glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together. (Isaiah 40:5)

In the name of God, the merciful Father, the compassionate Son, the Spirit of wisdom. Amen.

The good news of the story of God, the long story of the love of God for humanity, is the story that we tell throughout the Christian year:

• from Advent, the coming of the Messiah, the coming of the Christ Child,

• through Christmas season, celebrating the birth of our Lord,

• on into Epiphany – the season of showings, revelations, epiphanies, that make manifest the presence of God in human history, in our lives;

• into Lent, with its sober wisdom that we must prepare our hearts to receive the full assurance of God’s grace,

• into the compressed season of the Church year that is Holy Week – running from the absurd spectacle of Palm Sunday through the horrendous events of Good Friday and beyond hope into the transcending glory of Easter morning;

• absorbing the good news of Christ’s triumphant vitality through the Easter season, and

• then experiencing Pentecost, the long season of coming into the fullness of God’s kingdom, and

• then, again, as December approaches, to find ourselves waiting once again, in hope, in preparation, in anticipation, for the coming of the King.

This is the second Sunday before Advent – in some quarters, this is the Kingdom season.

It is the time of year in which at last we realize that the kingdom of Heaven is with us, within us, around us, waiting to be recognized, lived into as a present reality – it is not some story of a fantastic future but a present which is more than we recognize. God is with us, the glory and the grace are among us; we are called to embody their reality.

This is no easy task. The kingdom is often invisible, even when it is right before our eyes. You lose your job; you contract a disease; you hear bad news from far away or close by.

Where is God in this, in this world? Where is the hope? It is in the whole story of the people of God.

We have a story that will last forever – the story of the love of God for God’s people, and that’s us.

Begin with the child – the child of Hannah.

Hannah, the barren second wife of Elkanah, was mocked by Peninnah, the fruitful one.

Every year she prayed, every year she was tormented. Hannah would not eat she was so upset. And then she prayed – and God answered.

At first the priest thought she was drunk – he was not used to people praying like that.

I am not drunk; I’m desperate. I am praying to the Lord – give me a son! I will give him to you, as a servant in the Temple.

God answered, and gave Hannah her heart’s longing: so she named the boy child Samuel, “I have asked him of the Lord.”

She left him there for the Lord. He would serve the Lord faithfully, as a prophet.

And then she sang: in the exultation of her heart she sang a triumphant song, like the song of Moses, and the song of the prophet Miriam, Aaron’s sister, who took a tambourine in her hand and led the women out with dancing, as Israel was freed from Pharaoh.

And Miriam sang to them:
‘Sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously;
horse and rider he has thrown into the sea.’
(Exodus 15:21)

Hannah sang, as Mary mother of Jesus would sing, of the victory of her God – a victory long awaited, long prayed for.

For the people of Israel in bondage in Egypt, the people of Israel in exile in Babylon, and the people of Israel in bondage under Rome, prayed too: for their deliverance, their vindication, in the sight of their adversaries – that God would save them, bring them hope – and bring them freedom from what bound them.

The story of liberation, of God’s people released from bondage, is a story of a people, and it is the story of a person, any person who feels enslaved or exiled, a-wander in the desert, unable to find their way, or their freedom, or their home, and then appeals to God.

God my savior – the people cry. God my deliverer – says the one who is freed. God my vindicator, my sure defense – this is the one who brought Israel out of Egypt and across the desert to the Holy Land; this is the one who called them home from exile in Babylon – and this is the one who calls to you and me to come to him now for our own freedom.

For we too seek vindication, deliverance, freedom – and our hope is in our God.

That is the story of God – the story that is told throughout the Bible, the Scriptures. And that is why the collect today reminds us, that the whole story of the people of God, which is told throughout the pages of the Bible from Genesis to Revelation, is a story of hope.

This hope finds its final fulfillment in the One that Mary sang about, her son the Savior:

The Song of Mary – Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55)

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior;
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed:
the Almighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his Name.
He has mercy on those who fear him
in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm,
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,
and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of his servant Israel,
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
The promise he made to our fathers,
to Abraham and his children for ever.


This is the child of the promise:

This is the One that the people of God were waiting for, through all the ages. It is the Son who God gave, who gave of himself unsparingly, One once offered for the freedom of all.

At last this is the hope of the ages: that God would in the flesh dwell among us. That is what we wait for, too – to know that we are not left alone but that God is with us. Right here, right now, in the midst of our own situation, however glorious, however painful,

Throughout the Scriptures we hear the story of the love of God for the people of God.

God walks with us, beside us, from our beginning to our ending. He is the beginning and the ending of all our days, and in him is our hope. That is the story of the hope of Glory.

That is what the Bible tells us – that is why we pray, today, in the words of the Collect,

Blessed Lord,
who has caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our edification:
Grant us so to
hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that,
by the encouragement the Scriptures give us,
we may embrace and ever hold fast
the blessed hope of everlasting life,
which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ;
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever. Amen.


St Alban’s Episcopal Church, Edmonds, Wash., Sunday, November 15, 2009.


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